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Issue 65.2 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Franciscan Legacy Vocation Religious Implications The Spirit QUARTERLY 65.2 2006 evtew Religtous sters.dia e,.wztl~,, Go dialogue~ with ourselves; anddialogue accordingto cba~s:~of CatboUc reli~o~'l~(~ As Pope Paul I satd~ our way of bet!g church Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \~el) site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must hear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for comlnercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only he considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff. Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Phili'o C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mar~ Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Ciare Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.2 2006 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 138 franciscan legacy Custodians of Franciscan Households Michael Blastic OFM enters us into the meaning of Franciscan fraternity through developing three elements: 1) a life lived in brotherhood, 2) experienced in a household, and 3) qualified with patience~ Questions for Reflection / Group Discussion Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap centers his reflections on the .spirituality of Francis of Assisi by focusing on five passages of Francis's writings that d, eal with Eucharist. vocation 153 159 Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation Julius D. Leloczky OCist invites those following the special call to religious life into a prayerful meditation on the role of Mary as model and mentor. Prayer Just Because I Said So Mary Joseph Schultz SCC considers the importance of commitment and what it means "to give one's word." Personal Reflection / Group Conversation l~eview for Retigious 166 177 r O ji us imp ic io s Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? Vimal Tirimanna CSSR reflects on his experience as major superior and as president of the Conference of Major Religious Superiors of Sri Lanka to share his concern for the proper use of afithority. Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious Brendan Kneale FSC clarifies identity for men and women as embracing two dimensions, personal and social, which are mutually supportive. 186 spiri Led by the Spirit: Julian of Norwich Andrew Ryder SCJ notes the central role of the Spirit in the writings of Julian of Norwich. The Holy Spirit is the dynamic, active agent who brings us into communion with the life of Christ and the Persons of the Holy Trinity. epar rn n s 202 Scripture Scope: The Miracles of Jesus 206 Cdnonical Counsel: The Importance of Procedural Law 211 Book Reviews 65.2 2006 prisms do we think of when we hear the word service? We quickly rush to the n0tion of activity--what we do, how we act, how we spend our days and perhaps even our nights. But in our Catholic tradition service and to serve God have a far richer meaning than just activity. We find the first and foundational stage of service in a traditional saying, "They also serve who only stand and wait." By way of contemporary example, we notice that the esteemed waiter at table is the one who watches and is attentive to what is needed by the people dining. Such a waiter spends a lot :of his or' her time just "watching and waiting." In a similar way, the Christian who wants to serve God should spend a lot of time "watching and waiting." A good part of the watching and waiting is identifiable as praying. It is the prayer of one who listens to God--a God who is speaking in his revealing word, a God who speaks through his human messengers, a God who speaks through nature and through events. A person who listens is one who is obedient, for the roots of the word obedience lie in listening. The young Samuel in scripture describes his listening in the phrase, "Here I am, Lord." In the sacramental oi'dination of ministers, such listening is caught by the expression "ready and willing." It is the attitude of Jesus before the God he calls Abba. The second stage of service is made evident in the stance of surrender. It is the giving over of ourselves to. another in love. As Catholics we are being invited to enter Christ's eternal stance of surrender that is celebrated in every Eucharist. Jesus sacramentalized his total gift of self to God and to us in the giving of his body and his blood at the Last Supper. Historically, that gift was made especially in his passion and death. But the risen Jesus continues to invite us to enter into his eternal stance of surrender in every Eucharist we celebrate. For us, our surrender is measured by all the discrete moments of our life. We might say that, nourished by Jesus' body and blood, we are living "into" our surrender. Finally we come to thai stage of service whose mean-ing we think we have exhausted when we describe activ-ities. It is true that there are many ways of serving as a Christian, and these services are an essential element of living our faith. A faith that is not lived out in action is no faith at all. It is noteworthy that Protestants have often described their Sunday worship as services. Although we Catholics have ordinarily not used this designation, the Mass truly can be identified as a se~'vice, and it contains all the stages of service that we have described. The Liturgy of the Word certainly demands all of tls to be obedient, to be listeners, to be people ready and willing to be formed and directed by God's word. In the Liturgy of the Sacrament we are invited to enter into Jesus' eternal stance of surrender, and we come forward at communion time to ratify that gift and so experience our increasing identity with Christ by letting him be our daily bread. And every Eucharist sends us forth with the mission to share our faith and ~o serve God and his people. At the Last Supper Jesus asked all of us to claim our identity with him by following his example--he signified this by a particular activity as he washed the apostles' feet. Whatever our activities, following the risen Christ, we are identified as "ones who serve." . David L. Fleming SJ ,117 65.2 2006 franciscan MICHAEL BLASTIC Custodians of Franciscan Households legacy In a Newsweek web article posted on MSNBC, Melinda Henneberger wrote that "Katrina has reminded us that Christian morality should be about responding to the wretched and loving the unlovable--not about other people's sex lives" (14 September 2005). While the United States describes itself as a Christian nation, in the aftermath of Katrina we have seen that this label is deceptive. Citing Bill McKibben, "The Christian Paradox" (Harper's, August 2005), who pointed this out, she wrote that American practice really rewards dependency, and so it is better to hold on to your cash. McKibben himself reported on a poll concerning religious practice in the United States. He noted that only four in ten Americans can list more than four of the Ten Commandments, and only five in ten can name the four Gospels. He said that these Michael Blastic OFM presented this paper on Franciscan brotherhood at a province meeting in November 2005. His address is The Franciscan Institute; St. Bonaventure University; St. Bonaventure, New York 14778. Revie~ for Religious statistics really do not matter, but what does matter is that three out of four think the Bible teaches that "God helps those who help themselves" (actually a proverb of Ben Franklin's). Approximately 85 percent of Americans identify themselves as Christian, with about 75 percent claiming they pray to God daily and 33 percent going to church weekly. McKibben points out a number of paradoxes. We are second to last among developed countries in government foreign aid; nearly 18 percent of American children live in poverty--here we come in last among the rich nations-- and 26 percent of households lack sufficient food. We are the most violent rich nation on earth, with a murder rate of four or five times that of Europe. We have prison populations five or six times Europe's rate. We are the only Western democracy that executes its citizens; our marriage breakup rate is more than half, and higher than Europe's. tf one measures Christian identity by Jesus' teaching of helping the less fortunate, we come off poorly indeed. ~ Given these statistics, McKibben argues that Americans have replaced the Christianity of the Bible with another creed which ignores Jesus' radical and demanding focus on the other--"Love your neighbor as yourself." Jesus made it clear who the neighbor is--the poor person, the sick person, the naked person, the hungry person. "On and on and on--a call for nothing less than a radical, voluntary, and effective reordering of power relationships, based on the principle of love," to quote McKibben. I know I am not reporting something you do not already know. But I believe that this social context of North America as described by McKibben, visible in the unjust social reality revealed in Katrina's aftermath, is important for reflecting on our Franciscan life. In fact, 1119, 6~. 2 200~ Blastic ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households such a social context was the occasion for Francis of Assisi's conversion. Here I want to be very clear. Francis of Assisi's conversion was not explicitly, and primarily religious. It was a movement from a social order base& on the creed "God helps them who help themselves" to a social order based on sharing and sacrifice and "Love your neighbor as yourself"--in other words the creed of Jesus. In his conversion Francis first and foremost experienced what it means to be human, and what it implies for social life. The Franciscan movement results from Francis and the brothers learning what is required for human beings to flourish as God intends. From the opposite perspective, it is the medium of fraternity that is the message. A Franciscan fraternity evangelizes to the extent that it embodies human flourishing on the personal, social, and ecclesial levels. First I will describe briefly the early Franciscan experience and vision of fraternal life, and then I will suggest how this may help all of us live our lives as brothers. :120 A Place for Human Flourishing I would describe Franciscan fraternity in this way. I~ is (1) a life lived in brotherhood, (2) experienced in a household, and (3) qualified with patience. I deduce these elements from the Rule of 1223, the Rule that we profess as our form of life. (1) It was the Italian scholar Raoul Manselli who identified Francis's encounter with lepers as the turning point in his conversion. As Francis records in his Testament, that encounter radically rearranged his values and led him to leave the commune of Assisi in order to live with those lepers. He was drawn out of himself so that he could see, perhaps for the first time in his life; the reality of human beings who according to the definitions Review for Religious of life in the commune of Assisi simply did not exist. There was no place in Assisi for the unclean, the unworthy, the unholy, the unbearable, the unlucky, the untouchable, and the unloved. Encountering these suffering human beings, the lepers, Francis showed them a merciful heart. He looked at ., , them and touched them, he stayed with them and shared life with them, he comforted them and served their needs. And Francis tells us he did not do this for himself. He did not go to the~lepers to make himself better. He did not use . them as objects in an ascetical exercise to overcome himself (though this is how hagiographers will understand it). Francis gives the credit for this experiential truth to God: "The Lord led me among them, and I showed them a merciful heart" (Test 2).1 With God's nudge, Francis recognized the lepers as brothers and sisters, as creatures of the same God, as having equal dignity in the eyes of God the Creator. While Assisi's values and practice denied this truth, Francis was led into it by God's grace (what was bitter became sweet), and 'he left Assisi to live among these newly discovered brothers and sisters. Leaving the world of Assisi, Francis ~hus stepped into God's world--creation--where everything was estab-lished by the Creator in relationship. This is the truth that he would later celebrate in the Canticle of the Creatures. Creation sings, creation flourishes, simply by being what it was created to be, by being in relationship with all that exists. In his Testament Francis says, "The Lord gave me some brothers" (Test 14). Experienced as the reality of relationship as established by the Creator, brotherhood is Francis did not go to the lepers to make himself better. 121 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households embodied in the rule in terms of obedience. According to chapter 2 of the Earlier Rule, after those who come have given everything to the poor as they were able, and after the year of probation has ended for them, "they may be received into obedience" (LR II:l 1). Once received into obedience they may not wander "outside obedience" (ER II: 10). The rule speaks of obedience as a place, the space into which the brothers are received. While monks are received into a monastery after their novitiate probation, Francis's brothers are received into obedience. Obedience becomes a synonym for the space in which the brothers live. What characterizes obedience then is that it is the space of relationship, One could substitute the term relationship for the term obedience throughout the early Franciscan writings and not change the meaning of the texts. The relationships of brotherhood define the space in which the brothers live. This is especially significant given that the rule understands the brothers to be itinerant, even though by 1223 this was beginning to change somewhat. Brothers began living in convents in cities. Brotherhood, then, or better our relationships as brothers, is what defines the space in which to live our life according to the Rule. And, as Francis makes clear, brotherhood is only possible if one. turns toward the other, only if one gets out of oneself and willingly places oneself in relationship to the other. This turning toward others is the basis for contemplation in the tradition; it does not imply separation or solitude, but rather engagement and an ecstatic way of being in the world. A second defining element of Franciscan fraternity is Franciscan mission. After lepers, probably the most recognized symbol of Franciscan life is San Damiano and the speaking crucifix. While this story~appears rather late in the hagiographical tradition (1246), it expresses a fundamental purpose of Franciscan life. Francis received a Review for Religious mission to repair God's house, which was being destroyed: "Francis, don't you see that my house is being destroyed? Go, then, and rebuild it for me" (L3C 13). While in the past we translated those words from the Legend of the Three Companions too simplistically as "Rebuild my church," the hagiographical tradition consistently uses the term house in accounts of this event. And, while Francis initially understood that invitation from the cross to mean the broken-down building of San Damiano, he would come to understand that the mission was rather one of repairing a space in which Frariciscan ' holiness was experienced domestically, the. lives of men and women who have been~.broken and destroyed as human beings can be rebuilt and flourish. House and family are central to the brothers' experience of the Christian life. Their relationship to God is expressed in terms of the household. For instance, in the Second Version of the Letter to the Faithful, we read: And the Spirit of the Lord will rest upon all those men and women who have done and persevered in these things, and it will make a home and dwelling place in them. And they will be the children of the heavenly Father, whose works they do. And they are spouses, brothers, and mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are spouses when the faithful soul is united by the Holy Spirit to our Lord Jesus Christ. We are brothers, moreover, when we do the will of his Father who is in heaven; mothers when we carry him in our heart and body through love and a pure and sincere conscience; and give him birth through a holy activity, which must shine before others by example. (2LtF 48-53) Here we can see that for the early Franciscans holiness was experienced domestically. This suggests two things: 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households 124 (1) we are family with the Trinitarian God we believe in, and (2) our relationship with this God is accessible and lived in the ordinary, everyday experience of domestic life. This is an important characteristic of Franciscan .practice, and suggests family life and not church life as the means for working out our way to God. How does Francis envision rebuilding God's house? Bonaventure's insight in his Major Legend of St. Francis is right on the mark here. He comments that, after receiving this mission in San Damiano, he eventually moved to St. MaiT~ of the Angels; he "lived there in order to repair it" (LMj II:8). The repair of God's house is not so much the action of preaching or teaching. The repair is accomplished by life in brotherhood itself, by living among and with brothers and sisters. The term conversatio is used to describe this "living among" in two places in the Early Rule. Francis encourages the brothers to rejoice when they "live among (quando conversantur inter viles . . .) people considered of little value and looked down upon" (ER IX:2); and "they can live spiritually (possunt duobus modis spiritualiter inter eos conversant) among the Saracens" (ER XVI:5). Using the Latin word conversatio, the root of the term conversation, the Rule envisages life as a conversation, and depends on the monastic sense of conversatio as manner of life. The brothers' manner of life is thus to be conversational--sharing life with brothers and ~isters in this conversational manner rebuilds the house of God. In another text of the Later Rule, this conversation is described more concretely: I counsel, admonish, and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world; but let them be meek, peaceful, modest, gentle, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming . Review for Religious Into whatever house they enter, let them first say: "Peace to this house!" According to the holy gospel let them eat whatever food is set before them. (LR III:10- 12, 14) Here we see how for the brothers the mann(r of being with others is the primary means for accomplishing the mission, and is itself the message. The gospel is about life, a way of life, a way of being with and relating to others with the peace that is God's gift freely given in Jesus. The brothers simply speak the gospel honestly with everyone, beginning with one another. But, before the brothers can speak the word of the gospel, they must live the word of the gospel. Here recall the emphasis Celano gives to this fact in his Life of St. Francis, "[Francis] was no deaf hearer of the gospel" (1C 22). Coherence of life and message is the norm. The brothers' honest conversation and engagement with the world and people invites recognition of the presence of the kingdom already in their midst. Conversation, though, is a skill that must be learned, and many of the prescriptions of the rule that describe behavior in a negative way can be read as impediments to the quality of conversa'tion that the brothers engage in as part of their mission. This understanding of household and conversation can be seen in chapter 6 of the Later Rule. There poverty is described as "not making anything one's own" and living as "pilgrims and strangers in this world" and "never seeking anything else under heaven." After describing the brothers' poverty this way as modeled on Jesus Christ, "who made himself poor for us in this world" (LR VI:3), the Rule spells out the implication of this poverty for the life of brotherhood: Wherever the brothers may be and meet one another, let them show that they are members of.the same family. Let each one confidently m~ke known his need 125 65.2 2006 Blasac ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households to the other, for if a mother loves and cares for her son according to the flesh, how much more diligently must someone love and care for his brother according to the Spirit! (LR VI:7-8) Literally the Rule suggests here that the brothers should demonstrate that they come from the same "household," the same family (ostendunt se domesticos invicem inter se). Thus, having nothing, living itinerantly, and desiring only this, the brothers can be at home in their relationships. The brothers should feel at home in the love and. care they have and express for one another. Poverty is the condition for brotherhood. This is an important consideration because poverty can dehumanize. Rebuilding God's house implies offering an alternative to the dehumanizing effects, of poverty. Today we can include everything from forms of work, to abuse, to social structures. The life of brotherhood should provide for humanizing relationships, expressed in turning toward others in their real needs, and their responding with real and mature care. This house is built by God's Spirit as a place where human beings can flourish. Our fraternal life is meant to help human beings prosper, grow, and thrive as "human persons fully alive" and thus to fulfill our mission to repair God's house. A third dimension of fraternal life has to do with what it means to be human. For me, this knowledge comes with the.stigmata of Francis. The stigmata involves unanswered questions. Thomas of Celano in his Life of St. Francis supplied the time, place, and context for the event of the stigmata, but while doing that he was much more interested in unraveling its meaning. Celano recounts that, while at La Verna two years before his death, Francis "saw in the vision of God a man having six wings like a seraph, standing above him, arms extended and feet joined, fixed to a cross" (2C 94). Celano's words suggest that Francis's vision was of a human person taken up into God, burning with desire (like a seraph), and crucified. They suggest the divinization of the human person. Celano is not describing history here. He is interpreting an event whose full meaning was beyond history. He understands the stigmata as demonstrating the fullest potential of being human embraced by God in the incarnation. In Jesus, God embraced the human condition with all of its limitation, fragility, weakness, and vulnerability and, in this embrace of the human condition, revealed God's own divine nature. I.n other words, the crucified flesh of Christ revealed the nature of God. The event of the stigmata reveals both the meaning of God and the meaning of Jesus Christ's human nature. The humanity embraced by Jesus is the same as Francis lived, to the point of knowing it in his own wounds. Marked with the wounds of Jesus, Francis becomes the leper, an icon of the crucified Jesus. Celano says: "While he was unable to perceive anything clearly understandable from the vision, its newness very much pressed upon his heart. Signs of the nails began to appear on his hands and feet, just as he had seen them a little while earlier on the crucified man hovering above him" (2C 94). Francis becomes what he sees, that is, what he has been seeing from the moment God turned him to the lepers to contemplate humanity there as a living icon of Jesus Christ, crucified and fixed to a cross. What does it mean to be human, then, for the early Franciscans? It means to embrace th~ full reality of the human condition as frail, weak, fragile, and vulnerable, and even scarred and wounded. The human person is an image of the Lamb who was slain, who carries even now in glory the scars of the passion. Being scarred and wounded like Jesus is not about imitating Jesus' suffering and pain on the cross. Rather, it is the consequence of t)27 6~.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households self-sacrificing love, of being totally for others, without holding anything back: To be truly human means to bear patiently the human condition of weakness, fragility, and vulnerability. In the stigmata Francis demonstrates that it is possible for a human being to be Godlike, to love as God loved, to be totally and completely for the other, and in addition he demonstrates that human persons are capable of compassion, human persons are capable of bearing the pain of.the other. This, it seems to me, is what the Rule describes as the action of the Spirit of the Lord in one's life: I admonish and exhort the brothers in themLord Jesus Christ to beware of all pride, vainglory, envy and greed, of care and solicitude for the things of this world, of detraction and murmuring. Let those who are illiterate not be anxious to learn, but let them pay attention to what they must desire above all else: to have the Spirit of the Lord and its holy activity, to pray always to him with a pure heart, to have humility and patience in persecution and infirmity, and to love those who persecute, rebuke, and find fault with us. (LRX:7- 0) The eight vices that are listed at the beginning of this text are social vices; they have to do with how one relates to others and to the things of this-world. These vices describe one who is living "from the outside in," that is, one whose meaning and behavior are determined by things, by social position, by prestige, power, and clout, all of which lie outside a person. The Rule admonishes the brothers to a life of poverty, having nothing of one's own and desiring nothing more than the action of God's Spirit. They are not to live from the outside in, but from the inside out, by expressing the Spirit of the Lord in outward behavior. The Spirit transforms us flesh and blood into an image of Jesus, the suffering servant of God. Review for Religious Another way of expressing the action of the Spirit here is in our bearing with everyone and everything in patience and humility. The Saying on True and Pe,fect ffoy, recorded as a conversation between Francis and Leo, says that, as they arrive back at the Portiuncola one night, they are refused entrance because of the time of day and because they are stupid and not needed. They are told to go to the Crosiers for lodging. Francis says that, "if I had patience and did not become upset, true joy as well as true virtue and the salvation of my soul would consist in. this" (TPJ 15). The experience of the 'presence of God so transforms human existence that even persecution and sickness become ways to follow Christ. The experience of the Spirit of the Lord thus expresses itself in patience. The Latin term patiens indicates a willingness to endure or undergo something, to be capable of bearing hardship; it implies that one is vulnerable, able to be wounded. For Francis, patience is an attribute of God. In the--Praises of God, written shortly /. after he experienced-ffie sugrnata on Mount La Verna, he says to God: "You are love, charity; you are wisdom, you are humility, you are patience, you are beauty, you are meekness, you are security, you are rest" (PrG 4). Francis sees Jesus as the face of God, who made himself vulnerable in this world, who exercised patience through life and death. But it is the incarnation even more than the passion and death that Francis looks to, because in the incarnation Jesus put himself into the position of weakness, frailty, vulnerability, and limitation Francis sees Jesus as.the fa~e of God, who made himself vulnerable in this world, who exercised patience through life and death. 6~.2 2006 Blastic * Custodians of Franciscan HouseboMs and. in this revealed the full potential of being human, showing that the acceptance.of human vulnerability is salvific. Here the Rule gets to the heart of Franciscan fraternity because it challenges the brothers to be simply human, to live from the inside out, to be patient in suffering and sickness, to be vulnerable and open to the other, in short, to follow the footsteps of Jesus Christ. Authentic human life can flourish in Franciscan households that are built by brothers who turn toward each other, who engage in honest conversation as a way of life, and who patiently embrace their humanness in weakness, fragility, and vulnerability. Guarding the Franciscan Household The term "guardian" does not appear in the text of the Rule of 1223. It will appear inAater writings such as the Letter to the Entire Order and the Testament. No job description can be found in the early Franciscan writings, but it is understood that as guardian a brother exercises a ministry among brothers on the local level. What the Rule says about the ministry of "those brothers who are the ministers and servants of the others." (LR X:I) certainly applies to guardians. They are to "receive [the brothers] charitably and kindly and have sufficient familiarity with them that these same brothers may speak and deal with them as masters with the servants, for so it must be that the ministers are servants of all the brothers" (LR X:5-6). The ministers must deal with the brothers as family. While this quality of service must characterize the ministers, those who are subjects must also live the sacrificial nature of obedience in their relationships with the ministers and others. This sacrificial quality of obedience. Francis learned from Jesus, especially in his agony in the garden as described in the Second Version of the Letter to the Faithf!~k Rt.view for Religious Then he prayed to his father saying, Father, if it can be done, let this cup pass from me. And his sweat became as drops of blood falling on the ground. Nevertheless, he placed his will in the will of his father saying: Father, let your will be done; not as I will, but as you will. His father's will was such that his blessed and glorious son, whom he gave to us and who was born for us, should offer himself through his own blood as a sacrifice and oblation on the altar of the cross: not for himself, through whom all things were made, but for our sins, leaving us an example that we might follow his footprints. (2LtF 8-13) Jesus' obedience to his father was a struggle to say yes to his father's will, and this is really the only thing Francis says about the passion. Francis never speaks of the pain or suffering of the crucified Jesus, as if the entire passion took place in Jesus' struggle to accept his Father's will. And the Father's will, as Francis describes here, is that Jesus be completely for, others, that Jesus be for us. The passion is about struggling to be for others, and thi~ brings us back to the very nature of what it means to be brother. The brother is one who turns toward others, who is totally for others without holding anything back for himself. This js true obedience, because it is the fulfillment of what it means to be in relationship with others. Given this general sense of service, caring for the Franciscan household might be practiced in the following ways, I. I began with the common American Christian belief and practice that "God helps those who help themselves," a creed that can affect us in various ways. This creed is not authentically Christian, and it is eminently un- Franciscan. It supports behavior and practice that become destructive of God's house. All the brothers are responsible for calling each other to lives of genuine other-centeredness, to lives of authentic obedience 131 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households experienced as fraternal relationship, and to the poverty of having nothing as one's own. Interdepehdence rather than radical independence, mutuality rather than self-centeredness, arid healthy need rather than the fullness of isolation are true qualities of fraternal life. This kind of fraternity is not a given, nor achieved easily or quickly, but remains the goal toward which we live. The guardian's task of caring for fraternal life implies attention to the absence or presence of creeds that conflict with real fraternal life. II. One hard-to-retrieve aspect of fraternal life today, given our institutional structures, is itinerancy. Francis and his brothers lived as pilgrims and strangers in this An important itinerancy !sAhab., while moving abbut; W~ are .s.t.ill at home with each o her: ° world. They were itinerant brothers, literally. They were "houses" on the road--perhaps medieval versions of mobile homes! Itinerancy was a clear aspect of Franciscan identity in contrast to monks--monastic institutions were terrified of wandering monks, called gyrovagues in Benedict's Rule. The. monastic ideal was stability, and part of the difficulty of fitting mendicants into the structure of the church had to do with their itinerancy. The friars were often perceived mistakenly (?) as monks gone bad. How do we recover that dimension of our life? Perhaps by recovering the meaning of itinerancy as metaphor--by not remaining fixed in one place, by taking different perspectives on the same reality, by always being on the way without ever believing that we have arrived, by not claiming the center for ourselves, and so forth. It is easy to get bogged down in our ministry or work, and to Review for Religious disconnect ourselves from the fraternity for reasons of ministry or work, though there can be valid reasons for this. An important aspect of itinerancy is that while moving about we are still at home with each other; our friaries are parts of a much larger provincial fraternity. For fraternity to be healthy and life-giving, it has to be on the move, never settled into stubborn custom or settled convenience or old fears of anything new o'r different. The fraternity must be on the move in a metaphorical sense in order to stay healthy and focused on its purpose. The fraternity has to be kept on its toes, and the guardians' care for households is an appropriate way of keeping the brothers on the move. III. As we have seen, Francis's mission to repair God's house had to do with the quality of human life. It had to do with a style of life or conversation that was inclusive, respectful, honest, and engaging. Conversation does have guidelines. In his book Plurality and Ambiguity, David TracT says: "In conversation we find ourselves by losing ourselves in the questions provoked by the text. We find ourselves by allowing claims upon our attention, by exploring possibilities suggested by others" (p. 19). He suggests some guidelines for honest conversation: ' Conversation is a game with some hard rules: say only what you mean; say it as accurately as you can; listen to and respect what the other says, however different or other; be willing to correct or defend your opinions if challenged by the conversation partner; be willing to argue if necessary, tQ confront if demanded, to endure necessary conflict, to change your mind if the evidence suggests it." (pp. 18-19) To paraphrase Tracy in Franciscan language, we might say that, to have an honest conversation, one must act according to the real d~mands of being brothers in relationship, one must be for the other in honesty, in 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households integrity of life, in respectful listening. But Tracy's words, too, have already described the dynamic of a healthy fraternity. Real fraternal life is possible only if the brothers can have honest conversations. This is a real challenge because I can be so convinced of my truth that I cannot hear anyone else's truth. Conversation brings into play the truth about being human that Francis witnessed to in the stigmata--being vulnerable, being able to be touched by another, It takes much effort and practice to engage in honest conversation of this kind. Well worth the effort, the honest and earnest conversation in my fraternity will affect the quality of my presence and ministry outside the fraternity. Honest conversation iwfraternal life will also improve another central aspect of our life together, our prayer. To move beyond communal vocal prayer to faith sharing or shared prayer, honest conversation is important. If I cannot engage my brothers in honest conversation, how will I share my faith deeply with others. Perhaps there is a correlation between the friary chapters that demand honest conversation about life and ministry and the friaries that have much, or at least some, quality faith sharing. While the guardians cannot force this to happen, they can'challenge the brothers to develop friary chapters as an exercise in honest conversation. Moving from honest conversation into shared prayer is a logical and easy step. IV. Perhaps the best description of the guardians, given this description of Franciscan life, is that they are mentors. They support, challenge, inspire, and foster discernment of what is true, worthy, and life-giving among the brothers. You can find. a fine description of the mentor in Big Questions, Worthy Dreams by Sharon Daloz Parks (Jossey-Bass, 2000). She describes a mentoring Review for Religious environment as one that "can and necessarily must assist in creating norms of discourse and inclusion that invite genuine dialogue, strengthen critical thought, encourage connective-holistic awareness, and develop the contemplative mind" (p. 142). Sounds like a tall order, but we have all experienced a mentoring environment. Franciscan fraternity is similar to what she describes: "Mentoring environments are communities of imagination and practice. Humanizing practices, as we use the term here, are ways of life, things that people do with and for each other to make and keep life human" (p. 154). Parks describes three practices of a mentoring community: (1) the practice of the hearth, that is, places that invite reflection and conversation and times for doing this (hopefully the chapter provides this); (2) the practice of the table, not something that Franciscans have problems with generally, but is table time really a priority, or do we do what most Americans and families do today, simply eat on the run and alone in order to get on to something else? (3) the practice of the commons, a place where people meet and share their interdependent lives, a practice of learning how to stand with each other over time. That is a description of the recreation room, "a place within which to confirm a common, connected life. ¯ . that conveys meanings and orients purpose and commitment" (p. 157). Practices .like these facilitate fraternal life and build up the Franciscan household. For me, the religious genius of Francis and the early brothers lies in their ability to appreciate and value the human as the religious. The brothers understood the Gospels as showing us what it means to be really and simply human as brothers and sisters in contrast to social structures that are often antihuman. To be a healthy human brother or sister is to be a holy human person. Our way of being human is the message Francis was 6~.2 2006 Blastic * Custodians of Franciscan Households called to share. God's house is repaired and renewed in brotherhood and sisterhood, where human .life in its weakness, fragility, and vulnerability is embraced and celebrated and endured and supported in patience and healthy relationships, and where honest conversation is practiced and promoted. This is the vision of fraternal life that the early Franciscan writings set out. By our common profession we are all responsible for seeking this goal. The challenge is, I believe, to live that common profession, not in an ideal place, but in the "space" of th~ brotherhood that God has given us. With his brothers, the guardian has to be an expert in being human in order to be an effective servant. The guardian is charged only with calling us to be faithful to what we say we are. The guardian thus invites and challenges us to be fully human and to flourish in fraternal life. The guardian cannot do this or be responsible for this by himself. It takes all of us just as we are in the: glory of our frail, weak, limited, and vulnerable humanity. Our life is not about rapid perfection. Our life is about truth, the truth of the gospel which we embody together as brothers following the example of Francis and his brothers, who simply tried to follow the footprints of Jesus. We are called to be brothers to our brothers, to turn toward each other, to engage each other in honest conversation, to embrace our own and our brothers' weakness, limitation, frailty, and vulnerability. Desiring nothing else but this, we are heirs of the .kingdom of heaven, the place God has created that we may flourish as human beings! (see LR VO. May God give us peace! Review for Religious Note 1 All citations of the early Franciscan writings and of the Franciscan hagiographical texts in this paper are taken from Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, Vol. 1, The Saint, and Vol. 2, The Founder, edited by Regis Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William Short (New York: New City Press, 1999 and 2000). Questions for Reflections / Group Discussion 1. Michael Blastic OFM was addressing guardianship in a particular Franciscan Province. What elements from his presentation do I find applicable to my own life? 2. What do I need to do to make practical in my way of living some of his reflectiOns on livihg together? 3. Have I ever been mentored by someone? If so, what are the effects of my being mentored? Have I ever considered my owr~ role of being a mentor? What would I need to do ? gently her fingers his head against her lap wherein he rested once before held now between her bloody l~ands her head bentover her task carefully removing the thorfis the skin pulling, resistant, bleeding a little even now gently her fingers so as if not to hurt him she winces as the thorns come out Sean Kinsella 65.2 2006 REGIS J. ARMSTRONG Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist I~ was Pope Paul VI who first used the word harisms" officially in the context of consecrated life.1 He did so in his apostolic exhortation of 29 June 1971, Evangelica~ testificatio, ~11, where, in writing about "the charisn{s of founders," he echoed the teachings of chapter 5 of Lumen gentium and those of Perfectae caritatis and, in doing so, challenged consecrated women and men to focus on their unique gifts to the church. Even the most casual observer of the history of consecrated life notices that, since the Second Vatican Council, the vocabulary of consecrated religious is far more conscious and respectful of particular charisms and, among these, the followers of Francis of Assisi are noteworthy. Part of the reason for the Franciscan preoccupation with their unique charism or charisms is a curious difficulty in arriving at objective knowledge of the ever Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap, editor, translator, and author, first presented these reflections on 31 January 2005 to the faculty, staff, and students of the Theological College of The Catholic University of America, where he is a professor: 220 Curley Hall; Washington, D.C. 20064. Review for Religious popular Francis of Assisi. Until the late 1970s much of our knowledge of Francis's spirituality was mediated through the hagiographic literature that surrounds him. Significantly, the 14th-century Little Flowers of Saint Francis was-~-and perhaps remains--the most widely read source for popular knowledge of the 13th-century saint. Strangely, firsthand acquaintance with the saint was limited to three, possiblyfour,'of his writings and, was only broadened when in 1976 a critical edition of his thirty-eight known writings was published and quickly translated.2 "Deceptively simple" is one way of describing those texts. While some might dismiss them because of their transparency, or view them as irrelevant because of their historical context, Francis's gospel insights continue to challenge those who study them, and their timelessness seems to draw an increasing number of reader~. The task before me is to reflect on what the spirituality, let. us say the "charism," of Francis and his followers might offer to priests and others. At this time of Eucharistic emphasis, it seems appropriate to focus on five passages of Francis's writings. The first of these, a short, fundamentally liturgical prayer, appears in the last of the saint's writings, the Testament. In it he recalls the earliest days of the Franciscan fraternity. The second is taken from a set of documents that Francis wrote upon his return from the Islamic world in 1220. The third comes from a collection of writings' that elude dating but reflect a more mature Francis who has come to grips with what gospel spirituality consists of. The remaining .two seem to have been written during the last year of his life. Three prominent gifts emerge in these writings: the gift of faith, the gift of the Spirit, and the gift of the priesthood, three gifts that form a prism through which to gaze upon the Eucharist. I offer you this prism convinced that Francis's writings envision a Eucharist-centered life and, for a 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist priest, one that is defined by v~hat he does each day: celebrate what is at the very heart of his life. The Gift of Faith Francis's Testament, written in stages toward the end of,~his life, opens with a set of reminiscences that many see as defining his vision¯ After speaking of his embrace of a leper, the beginning ofhis life of penance, he describes ., o his life of faith. ,!'And the Lord gave me such faith in churches that I would simply pray and speak in this way: "We adore you, O Lord Jesus Christ, here and in all your churches throughout the world, and we bless you, because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.'" The early biographers Thomas of Celano and St. Bonaventure maintain that he later taught this prayer to his very first followers. The prayer is ecclesial and soteriological in nature, expressing as it does an understanding of the role of the church in the accomplishment of redemption. Those familiar with the liturgical texts will recognize it as appearing in the Liber Responsalis of Gregory the Great, where it is an antiphon for matins on the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.3 In his Documenta Vitae Religiosae, the monk Arnulphe encouraged its recitation upon entering a church and approaching the (ross.4 What is distinctive, however, is Francis's addition: ". ¯ here and in all the churches throughout the world." His version of the antiphon brings us from the abstract church to a particular, here-and-now church and to those scattered throughout the world. True, Eucharist is not We are made aware,of Francis's understanding the church pla e of encounter or adoratiom Review for Religious present or even implied in the prayer. We are nonetheless made aware of Francis's understanding of the church as the place of encounter or adoration, that is, the sacred space in which the pray-er is reminded of the central place of the cross in our redemption. Curiously, Francis sees this practical, tangible gift of faith as something flowing immediately from the embrace of a life of penance. Should we follow his train of thought in this document, Francis suggests that his discoqery of God's presence began with his encounter with a leper and continued with his entrance into a church, where he discovered what was being asked of him. These Were indeed the first dramatic steps of his spiritual journey, from a chance meeting with the leper to ,his "stumble" into the church of San Damiano, where he discerned his ca|l, His biographers rightly suggest that the two are united, in the Franciscan approach to God, two essential elements on faith's journey,s ,~ Note the focused pragmatism of this passage. The Lord's gift of faith demands expression in the ordina~ day:to-day ebb and flow of life. Francis's faith expresses itself in reverence and respect for the sacred place, the sacred place of encounter. His companions later described him with a broom in his hand gathering the priests of an area and encouraging them to keep clean ,their churches, altars, and everything connected with ~the celebration of the divine mysteries.6 Afew years~ later, the Fourth Lateran Council (canon 20) and Pope Honorius III were to address this matterZ This theme of showing reverence for the place and the accoutrements of worship is easily seen in an exhortation he wrote to all the clergy.8 For years the only existing copy of this was one found in a 13th-century missal in the Benedictine monastery of Subiaco, which boasts of a visit Francis made there during a trip to Rome. This manuscript shows the influence of 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist the decrees of Pope Honorius encouraging implemen-tation of the Fourth Lateran decree. Recently, however, an earlier manuscript of the letter was discovered, one that may have been written before or immediately after the council and confirms Francis's insistence on reverence and respect fog churches and sacred vessels.9 In both exhortations a prominent theme emerges, the central place of the Eucharist. Although Francis never uses the word Eucharist, he does write of "the Body and Blood of the Lord," thereby suggesting the concrete way in which he regards the Eucharistic presence of Christ. "In this world," he writes, "we have and see nothing corporaliter [corporally] of the Most High except [his] Body and Blood, and the words through which we have been made and redeemed from death to life." In that light, it is difficult to ignore his repeated encouragement of respect and care for what we might consider the insignificant things of worship: reservation, cleanliness, decorum, even liturgical books.° Once again Francis's addition to that liturgical antiphon--"here and in all your churches throughout the world"--emerges, so'that we see a faith that is not cerebral or otherworldly, but practical and down-to-earth. Corporaliter! If the Most High chooses to come to us corporaliter, then we. must carefully respect the matters of our worship corporaliter, in simple specific ways. Francis repeatedly and simply calls his followers to be attentive to the details of worship. These are instruments with which God enables us to proceed, in Hugh of St. Victor's words, "from the visible to the invisible." The Gift of the Spirit This leads us to an undated set of Francis's writings: his Admonitions, a title that does not express well in English the nature of these twenty-eight teachings. Each "admonition" simply presents a few biblical passages or l~evie~ for Religious images and then some practical application to daily life. This form is a common catechetical tool used by medieval instructors in the faith.~° The first admonition begins with a series of biblical passages that initially seem unrelated unless they0are viewed as examples of "seeing and believing." Francis's starting point in this first admonition is the struggles of faith of the apostles Thomas~and Philip, given that God "dwells in unapproachable light,' and "no one has ever seen God." He proceeds to the role of the Holy Spirit, who enables them and us to see things differendy, to see with what Tl~omas F. Torrance calls the Spirit's "epistemological relevance." l~ In this .way Francis leads us into the very heart of trinitarian life--the Father looks upon the Son in the Spirit, and the Son looks upon the Father in the Spirit. Francis challenges us to understand what spirituality is, namely, a Spirit-filled life: All those who saw the Lord Jesus according to the humanity and did not see and believe according to the Spirit and the Divinity that he is the true Son of God were condemned. Now, inthe same way, all those who see in the form of bread and wine the sacrament that is consecrated [literally, sanctified] at' thd altar by the Lord's words through the agency of the priest, and who do not see and believe according to the Spirit and the Divinity that it is truly the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, are condemned. To be sure, the challenge of seeing and believing is prominent, but it is cast in the context of the Spirit and the Divinity. Many commentators on Francis's writings suggest that his vision of the spiritual life is besv defined by a simple statement found in his Rule: "Let [the brothers] pay attention to what they must desire above all else: the Spirit of the Lord and its holy activity." ~2 This being the case, the Spirit's activity in making Christ the center of our lives is primary and, in this instance, 143 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 14'4 becomes the medium through which we gaze. upon Christ. The Spirit brings us to gaze upon Christ with "the eyes" of the Father and, by our conformity with Christ, to gaze upon the Father with "the eyes" of the Son. We are confronted with what Catherine Mowry LaCugna calls "the practical Trinity" and with Karl Rahner's words: "The economic Trinity is the immanent Trinity.''t3 Far mor~ simply, Francis understands the Spirit as calling us to look upon both the incarnation and the Eucharist in a trinitarian way, seeing the incarnate Lord Jesus and the Eucharistic Lord Jesus as the Father does, with.the eyes of the Holy Spirit. As Francis describes it in the first of his ~ldmonitiones, the Spirit's presence in our lives challenges us on three levels with each celebration of the Eucharist. It reminds us of the incarnation, with the Son's daily embrace of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability: "Behold, he humbles himself each d~ay (Ph 2:8) as when he came from the royal throne into the Virgin's womb (Ws 18:15); each day he himself comes to us, appearing humbly; each day he comes down from the bosom of the Father (Jn 1,: 18) upon the altar in the hands of a priest." The Spirit's presence also prompts alertness to the revelation that comes from the Eucharist as well as from the incarnation itself: "As [the Son] revealed himself to the holy aposdes in true flesh, so he reveals himself to us in the same way in sacred bread." Finally, in light of this, the Spirit's presence fosters contemplation of the Eucharist with what Francis calls, in words reminiscent of Bernard of Clairvaux, ".spiritual eyes" 14: "And as they saw only his fleshwith their physical sight, yet believed that he was God as they conteInplated him with their spiritual eyes, let us, as we see bread and wine with our bodily eyes, see and firmly believe that they are his most holy Body and Blood living and true." , Revie~v for Religious These three sentences from Francis's Admonitiones provide insight into his understanding of a Spirit-filled life. We could concentrate on these thoughts about Jesus' humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability, or we could focus on his encouragement of "adoration," that primary Spirit-inspired activity which many commentators consider the heart of his theology of prayer. There is another, more noteworthy contribution, however, that Francis makes to Christian spirituality, one that gets overlooked: his concern that our lives be conformed to the Eucharist, that they somehow imitate the life of the Eucharistic Christ. Curiously, very little has been written about this, possibly because of that troublesome word imitation, a word Francis never uses and one that enters strongly into the vocabulary of Christian spirituality only in the 14th, not the 13th, century.15 The more common word for this was conformity. Bernard of Clairvaux says wonderfully that Christ is the form to which deformed man must conform in order to be reformed. One is called to bring one's form into line with the form that is Christ. In the spiritual literature of the time, this is brought about by the work of the Holy Spirit. Contemplation of Christ in the Eucharist, contemplation with "spiritual eyes," is primarily the Spirit's doing.16 In Francis's understanding of the call, the Eucharist demands the daily embrace of the virtues of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability that the Incarnate Word lives and reveals each day. The Eucharist demands the daily embrace of the virtues of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability that the Incarnate Word lives and reveals each day. 65.2 2006 Armstrong * Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 1461 The Gift of Priesthood This brings us to selections from Francis's last two writings, the first of which is actually a return to Francis's very last, his Testament, with which these reflections began. After reflecting upon the gift of faith, Francis continues: Afterwards the Lord gave me--and gives me still-- such faith in priests who live according to the rite of the holy Roman church because of their orders that, were they to persecute me, I would still have recourse to them. And if I had as much wisdom as Solomon and found .impoverished priests of this world, I would not preach in their parishes against their will. And I desire to respect, love, and honor them and all others as my lords. And I do not want to consider any sin in them because I discern the Son of God in them and they are my lords. And I act thus because in this world I see nothing corporally of the Most High Son of God except his most holy Body and Blood which they receive and they alone administer to others. It is a rather curious statement coming from a man facing death, one that contains bits and pieces that tantalize biographers of Francis and historians of the Franciscan movement. There are sufficient anecdotes in the early lives of Francis to suggest that he was indeed ridiculed, abused, and demeaned. More significant are the number of papal decrees insisting that Francis and his brothers be given permission to preach, suggesting that doors were indeed being slammed in their faces. The dying Francis transcends all this and leaves as his legacy an example of "respect, love, and honor" for priests as those who are his superiors, his "lords." Once again that refrain surfaces: "I see nothing corporaliter of the Most High Son of God." Here it does so in reference to priests, who "receive. and administer to others" the most holy Body and Blood of the Lord. All Review for Religious that he may have endured--persecution, being taken advantage of, imposed on--is put into context. Francis refuses even to take notice of a priest's sin--that judgment, he maintains, belongs only to God--because of the priest's sacerdotal intimacy with the Eucharist, with the Body and Blood of the Lord. Naive? Simplistic? Challenging? In our day especially, these attitudes seem unrealistic and, in light of recent scandals, disingenuous. To understand them, we must turn to passages from the last and perhaps most beautiful of Francis's writings, one that almost certainly was written at the same time as his Testament, that is, at the end of his life. Only a man comfortable with himself could have written The Letter to the Entire Order. While clearly written by the "inspirational" figure of the brotherhood, by Francis himself, the letter does not hesitate to admit to negligence or weakness, to being "ignorant or unlettered" and "useless and unworthy." Many of its themes resonate with Francis's earlier writings, especially those on the Liturgy of the Hours and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. The maturity of Francis's Eucharistic spirituality, however, appears clearly in this passage: Kissing your feet, and with all the love of which I am capable, I implore all of you brothers to show all possible reverence and honor to the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, in whom that which is in heaven and on earth is brought to peace and reconciled to theall-powerful God. This comes from the Francis who a year or so earlier had the mystical experience of Greccio, where the Christ Child appeared in his arms. This comes from the Francis who shortly afterwards had that other mystical experience of Christ Crucified, which left him with the stigmata. This comes from the Francis who then composed one of the most mystical of all writings, The Canticle of Brother i147 65.2 2006 Armstrong * Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 148 Sun, where his vision of the peace and reconciliation brought by Christ to all creation is expressed in remarkable poetry. In light of this, what follows is one of his most penetrating challenges: In the Lord I also beg all my brothers who are, or who will be, or who desire to be priests of the Most High that, whenever they want to celebrate Mass, pure themselves, they offer the true sacrifice of the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ with purity and reverence, with a holy and unblemished intention, not for any worldly reason or out of fear or love of someone, intending to please human beings. But, desiring by the sacrifice to please only the most high God himself, let every will be directed to God as far as grace makes possible because there he himself acts alone as he pleases. Here we see the call of the priest to live corporaliter in light of the life corporaliter of Christ now revealed in the Eucharist. The call to purity and to celebrate with purity, the call to be single-minded, and the call to have my every desire directed by God comes from an ongoing call to conversion. The example of the reverence of Mary, the Mother of God, and of the Baptist help bring that call to us. Francis's challenge is simple yet profound: "See your dignity, my brothers [who are] priests, and be holy because He is holy. As the Lord God has .honored you above all others by this ministry, for your part love, revere, and honor him above all others. It is a great misery and a miserable weakness when you have him present in this way and are concerned with anything else in the whole world!" Tree-Huggersmbut Much Much More What does Francis of Assisi, a medieval, Umbrian- Italian mystic offer to American priests in this vital endeavor? My good friend Luke Patrick O'Connell once Review for Religious teased me by characterizing Franciscans as "tree-huggers." Luke, however, was introducing a rather profound discussion on the theological concept of charism. He was attempting to draw me out on what the followers of Francis contribute today to the life and growth of the church. It is a good question, one with which I continue to struggle on many different levels. Pope John Paul once observed that what makes Francis of Assisi so appealing to people of all ages and cultures is his dominant image of God: the One who is all good. "It is what makes you optimists," he suggested, "and, therefore, prophets of hope." Francis's biographers Thomas of Celano and Saint Bonaventure wrote that "he savored in each and every creature, as in so many rivulets, the Fountain of Divine Goodness." In Francis's own writings, however, it is clear that he found God's goodness, the gifts of faith and of the Spirit, more and more overwhelming in the mystery of the Eucharist. In the light of that gift, the daily revelation of God's incredible goodness in his Son, the priesthood became for Francis a reflection of what Eucharist is all about: God's daily humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability. In a word, the Christ of the Eucharist defines the priest! One's sacerdotal character must be molded by the Eucharistic Jesus, who each day places himself in the hands of this priest. Clare of Assisi frequently comes to mind in pondering the mystery of a vocation. Clare begins her own Testament Francis found God's goodness, the gifts of faith and of the Spirit, more and more overwhelming in the mystery of the Eucharist. 1149 6Y. 2 2006 Ar~nstrong ¯ Francis~s Cbaris~n, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist reflecting on the role Francis played in that call. She writes: "Among the other gifts we have received and do receive each day, and for which we must express the deepest thanks to our glorious God, there is our vocation, which the more perfect and greater it is, the more are we indebted to him. Therefore the Apostle [writes]: 'Recognize your vocation.'" In her theology, the vocation is given anew each day and demands each day our most profound thanks. For a priest, Francis would add, each day that gift and that gratitude for the priesthood grow in intensity as the daily celebration of the Mystery of Faith ever so gently teaches the priest its meaning. Thus he writes: Let everyone be struck with fear, the whole world tremble, and the heavens exult when Christ, the Son of the living God, is present on the altar in the hands of a priest! O wonderful loftiness and stupendous condescension! O sublime humility! O humble sublimity! The Lord of the universe, God and the Son of God, so humbles himself that he hides himself under a little piece of bread! See the humility of God, brothers, and pour out your hearts before him! Humble yourselves that you may be exalted by him! Hold back nothing of yourselves for yourselves, that he who gives himself totally to you may receive you totally! Notes ~ Information on charisms may be found in Elizabeth McDonough, "Charisms and Religious Life," Review for Religious 52 (1993): 646- 659. Review for Religious 2 Die Opuscula des H1. Franziskus yon Assisi: Neue Textkritische Edition, ed. Kajetan Esser (Grottaferrata, Rome: Collegio S. Bonaventura di Quaracchi, 1976). This text was the basis for Francis" and Clare: The Complete Works, trans, and intro, by Regis J. Armstrong and Ignatius C. Brady (New York: Paulist Press, 1982). All translations from the writings of Francis and Clare are taken from this volume, though sometimes modified. 3 Gregory the Great, LiberResponsalis (PL 78,804). 4 Arnulphe de Boeriis, Documenta Vitae Religiosae (PL 184, 1177): "Deinde, veniens ad ecclesiam, pone manum super ostium, et dic: Exspectate hic, cogitationes malae, intentiones et affectus cordis, et appetitus carnis. Tu autem, anima mea, intra in gaudium Domini Dei tui, ut videas voluntatem Domini, et visites templum ejus. Sicque veniens ante crucem dic: 'Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.'" (Coming to a church, put your hand on the door and say: Wait here, evil thoughts, intentions, and inclinations of my heart and desires of my flesh. You, though, my soul, enter into the joy of the Lord your God, so that you may see the Lord's will and enter his temple. And so, coming before the cross, say: "We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.") s See Franqois de Beer, La Conversion de Saint Francois (Paris: ]~ditions Franciscaines, 1963). 6 "Assisi Compilation" 60, in The Founder, Vol. 2 of Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William J. Short (Hyde Park, New York: New City Press, 2000), pp. 162-163. 7 For the texts of both Canon 20 of the Fourth Lateran Council and Sane cure olim or Expectavimus bactenus of Innocent III, see The Saint, Vol. 1 of Francis of Assisi: Early Documents (Hyde Park: New City Press, 1999), pp. 53c. 55a. Hereafter The Saint. 8 See The Saint, pp. 54-55. 9 See The Saint, pp. 52-53. ~0 See Regis J. Armstrong, "The Prophetic Implications of the Admonitions," in Francescanesimo e Profezia (Roma: Laurentianum, 1986): pp. 386-464. ~ Thomas F. Torrance, "The Epistemological Relevance of the Holy Spirit," in God and Rationality (London: Oxford University Press, 1971), pp. 165-192. t2 For a full exposition of the theme, see Optatus van Asseldonk, "The Spirit of the Lord and Its Holy Activity," Greyfriars Review 5 (1991): 103-158. ,3 Karl Rahner, The Trinity, trans. Joseph Donceel (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970); "Remarks on the Dogmatic Treatise 'De 151 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Frands's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist Trinitate,'" Theological Investigations, Vol. 4 (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), pp. 77-102. 14 Karl Rahner, "The Doctrine of the 'Spiritual Senses' in the Middle Ages," Experience of the Spirit: Source of Theology, Vol. 16 of Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1983), pp. 104-134. ~s Edouard Cothenet et al., Imitating Christ, vol. 5 of Religious Experience series (St. Meinrad, Indiana: Abbey Press, 1974); Andr4 Rayez, "The Golden Age of Medieval Devotion: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries," in Jesus in Christian Devotion and Contemplation, vol. 1 of Religious Experience series (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1974), pp. 44-85. ~6 This sentiment finds an echo in John Paul II's Dominicae Coenae: "Eucharistic worship., is precisely the expression of that love which is the authentic and deepest characteristic of the Christian vocation . A living fruit of this worship is the perfecting of the image of God that we bear within us, an image that corresponds to the one that Christ has revealed to us." Quoted in L'Osservatore Romano, English edition, 26 January 2005, p. 12. Palm Sunday Dear Lord, ride into my heart today on the stubborn mule of my own self-rule. These garments strewn along your way are the little things to which my will clings. 0 Christt. let your triumph be complete: let nothing remain proud, stubborn, or vain. I lie surrendered at your feet. Now, let my voice raise Hosannas of praiser. Agnes Cunningham SSCM Review for Religious ¯ JULIUS D. LELOCZKY Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation The great Carmelite martyr St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, better known as Edith Stein, wrote somewhere: "The imitation of Mary includes the imitation of Christ because Mary is the first Christian to follow Christ. Indeed, that is why the imitation of Mary is relevant not only to women but to all Christians." Let us meditate briefly on how religious life can be an "imita-tion of Mary." From all eternity Mary was chosen by God to be the mother of the Redeemer, and she was called at the annunciation. We, too, have been chosen and called: "God chose us in Jesus Christ before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him" (Ep 1:4). By this call and her response, Mary became a daughter of God in a special way; she became the new, obedient Eve. Just as Mary must have Julius D. Leloczky OCist joined the Cistercians in Hungary in 1953, later studied in Rome, and in 1964 was sent to the abbey where he continues to live: Cistercian Abbey; 3550 Cistercian Road; Irving, Texas 75039. 6Y.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation wondered why was she chosen, we, too, can ask our-selves: "Why me? Out of the millions of people, why me?" The answer is that it is a mystery, the mystery of love. What happens to us is what happened to the rich young man: "Jesus looked at him, and he loved him" (Mk 10:21). The call of each of us is a call for a unique, spe-cial task, one that no one else can accomplish. Our response should mirror the love of the One who called us, but we are called not just to do a job; we are called to give a loving response. The call has, like a coin, two sides: we are called away from something and we are called to do something, called for something. From the moment the angel appeared to Mary, her whole life was changed. She was no longer her own person, she belonged to Someone else. We have been called away from the average or "normal" way of life, from starting a family, from having a civilian job, from having our own home, car, property. We have been called to a loving unconditional surrender, offering ourselves as Mary did: "I am the maidservant of the Lord. Let it be done to me according to your word." We have been called for a life-long adventure of love, and we do not know where this love will take us. As religious, we have been called to conceive the Word of God in our heart and soul. This conception is "virginal" because it takes place entirely between God and ourselves, without the intervention of anybody else. We have been called to give the Word of God, the Son of God, to others. We can do it only if first we ourselves have conceived Him, carried him in the womb of our soul, nurtured him, let him grow inside us, from our-selves-- if not from our flesh and blood, certainly from our personality. Just as Jesus must have had much like-ness to his Mother, the Word growing within us will take on our likeness. This Word, however, is not just an intel- Review for Religious lectual idea. It does not reside only in our intellect; it must penetrate our entire being, our whole existence. Disciples are not tape recorders to replay the words exactly as we heard them. Sifted through our personali-ties, God's words have to take on the special shade or tint of what we are as persons, just as the gospel of Jesus Christ is different from the pen of Mark and John. Mary's virginity was fruitful; the unmarried state of a religious also must be fruitful. Members of religious orders, when answering God's call to an unmar-ried way of life, do not choose to live in lifeless sterility. They do not give up either love, pas-sion, or motherhood or fatherhood. They just practice them in a dif-ferent way, living, by God's grace, their ability to love on a higher level. Their fruitfulness realizes itself in two ways. Like Mary, they become mothers of the Word of God, and mothers or fathers of many spiritual children. The birth of a child is preceded by birth pangs. No one expressed more dramatically the pain of giving birth to God's word than Jeremiah: "O Lord, you have deceived me, and I let myself be :deceived. You are stronger than I, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all the day. Everyone mocks me . If I say, 'I will not mention him or speak any more in his name,' there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot bear it" (Jr 20:7,9). To give birth to God's Word is a painful but irresistible duty. It is painful to commu- Members of religious orders, when answering God's call to an unmarried way of life, do not choose to live in lifeless sterility. 65.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation 1,56 nicate the Word to others; it is difficult to put Christ's message into human words, to pass on to others Jesus himself and not just our own ego. It can be painful to give Jesus to others, because some people will not accept him, will show a hostile attitude toward him and us, will resist and reject him and us. Yet we have to go on, to continue undeterred, remembering God's word to Jeremiah: "And I, behold, I make you this day a forti-fied city, an iron pillar, and bronze walls, against the whole land" (Jr 1 : 18). If we proclaim God's word, we become parents, and those who listen to us will become our children. This is so even in the case of contemplative religious. It is not by accident that St. Th~r~se of Lisieux has been chosen the patron saint of the missions. If we think back to our young years, we can recall some special persons in our lives whom we can consider our spiritual mothers or fathers. As we advance in age, the roles become reversed, and we should be spiritual parents for others. But it is a frightening realization that we proclaim the Word more by our deeds than by our words; our words and deeds should communicate the gospel message in perfect har-mony. St. Paul dared to set himself as a model for the early Christians. "Imitate me," he wrote. We may shy away from saying the same, but we know that our words will be credible only if they are lived and made a reality in our daily lives. Just as Mary was with Jesus at the wedding at Cana, so she is with us in our apostolic prayer and activity. When we are in any special need, she will tell her Son: "They have no wine." Just as in Cana, with the refined sense of a woman, a housewife, a mother, she perceives if something is missing, if there is a problem, and she will intervene. And, even if Jesus showed some reluc-tance first, Mary knows that her Son will help, and she Review for Religious will tell us to "do whatever he tells you." The interven-tion of the saints is powerful, but the efficiency of Mary's intercessory prayer is unparalleled. Just recall the words of the famous Memorare prayer of the great Cistercian saint Bernard of Clairvaux: "Never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection was left unaided." A mother's life is an unstoppable process of gradual separation from her child. Only during pregnancy can she have the feeling that the child is completely hers. After the baby has been born, as the child is growing, it will spend more and more time away from home, away from its mother. During adolescence the child will claim an ever greater independence. After he or she finishes school and starts a family, the separation will be com-plete. Mary, too, had this painful experience. The twelve-year- old Jesus remained in the temple: "I must be in my Father's house." During his public ministry Jesus called his disciples mother and brothers and sisters, thus in a way pushing away from himself his biological family. On the cross, Jesus gave a mere disciple to his mother in place of himself. Look at Michelangelo's Pietb, this Magnificat prayer carved into marble, and see Mary's generous surrender. Even after all her trials and suffer-ings, she was still the humble handmaid of the Lord. There are two ways of experiencing this separation: (a) to live without the experience of Jesus' presence or close-ness and (b) to allow our spiritual children to grow up and go off and live their lives. Mary, by her suffering and agony, added something to the redeeming sufferings of her Son. Similarly, by car-rying our daily crosses (their heaviness may change from time to time), we complement "what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the church" (Col 1:24). Our sufferings can be physical or spiritual or emotional. They may take the form of sickness, exhaus- 6Y.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation tion, frustration, or burnout, They may be caused by the very people for whose sake we are spending our days and burning our energies, as when the crowd shouted at Jesus, "Crucify him!" We may be attacked or accused without reason, we may be slandered, or we may feel abandoned as Jesus did when he cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" But we should not forget that the sadness lasted only three days. Imagine Mary's joy at Jesus' resurrection, at her encounter with her risen Son. The same joy is waiting for us. We just have to persevere, to continue imitating Christ by imi-tating Mary faithfully, day after day. 158 Prayer Slowly and meditatively pray the Memorare prayer. Remember, 0 most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercesson was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto you, 0 Virgin of virgins, my Mother; to you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. 0 Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen Review for Religious MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Just Because I Said So Sohifting numbers, median ages, and the geography f religious life over the past several decades and today as well do not cause me to pause and reflect on whether we have a future, as many religious have recently been wondering. I believe that religious life most defi-nitely does have a future. For each individual commu-nity, where that future goes must be carefully discerned in the Spirit. But there are other questions with less clear answers. What impels us to go on? What can we offer new members to quench their thirsty hearts once they join us? I would like to reflect on one word as the answer to both these questions--commitment. It is not a popular word today in a mobile and disposable society such as ours. The word commitment is at one and the same time a sign of contradiction to some and a challenge and cause for hope to many others. In some circles a lifelong com-mitment to religious life has fallen under examination in recent years. For my part, I cannot buy into the notion Mary Joseph Schultz SCC, president of Assumption College for Sisters, wrote for us in 2003. Her address is 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. 65.2 2006 Schultz ¯ ~tst Because I Said So of a limited commitment to religious life just as I can-not buy into the idea of a temporary marriage commit-ment. As religious we vow ourselves to a God unseen but not unknown. We embrace centuries-old charisms of peo-ple whose lives and lifestyles were shaped by grace amid definite historical settings and cultural needs. We set aside wealth, sexual activity, and the disposition of our own will in freely choosing poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence for life. It is imperative that we study our own com-mitments in gratitude--and that we find ways to convey its challenge, meaning, and joy to Generations X and Y-- if we truly have hope in our communities' future. Our brothers and sisters in community who celebrate fifty, sixty, and even seventy-five years of religious life overflow with peace and joy in their long, faithful, and fruitful commitments, just as their married counterparts do who celebrate their golden anniversaries. What is their secret? Why and how have they survived and thrived in a world of instant gratification, noise, infi-delity, moral weakness, and faltering leadership and through forty years of post-Vatican II experimentation, discussion, renewal, and change in their communities? They would probably answer the question very simply: "I am still here because I said I would be." Sefin Sammon, in his wise and prophetic book Religious Life in America, speaks of the impact of public commitment to the evangelical counsels: "In carrying out our ministry in a spirit of selfless service, we witness further to countercultural values. How? By avoiding the all too familiar and tragic betrayal of consecrated life that occurs when we give our heart away generously at the time of first commitment, and then take it back, bit by bit, with each passing year" (p. 92). Commitment is not widely modeled for today's youth, either in families or in society at large. Hedonism and Review for Religious materialism erode the very notion of a committed life. The rapidity and challenge of change surround every aspect of our culture today. Opting out of anything dis-agreeable or tiresome is only a mouse-click away. Young people are constantly in and out of hobbies, activities, and relationships without so much as a glance back-ward. Often parents try to be supportive by signing them up for lessons, buy-ing instruments and sports either in families or equipment and providing taxi service to and from in society at large. appointments and games. For the young, broad arrays of opportunity and experience soon become bor-ing- or become irritatingly impossible when parental money or patience runs short. Entering my community as an aspirant in my teens in the late 1960s, I truly aspired to living religious life. It was hard for me and for those my age to understand all the post-Vatican II talk about "returning to your foundress's charism." Certainly we should already be who we say we are! Why wouldn't we be, and how could we not be? Naive teenage questions. But, from the moment I left home to enter as a sophomore, my heart was com-mitted to my dream, and I was just a little puzzled by what I saw and heard going on around me. Wasn't every sister as committed as I thought she was or should be? Through the difficult weeks of homesickness, a cer-tain degree of stubbornness and a huge amount of grace sustained me. I knew my choice was right. From my early years my family realized that I was serious about being a sister. It was all I talked about and I only had to wait (impatiently) until I was old enough to be accepted. My Commitment is not widely modeled for today's youth, 65.2 2006 Scbultz ¯ s~ust Because I Said So ,° 1 21 older siblings at times "tested" me and offered their opin-ions about my leaving home at fourteen. But my parents were supportive in their quiet and undemonstrative way. They were proud of me, I knew, loved the sisters, and backed me up at each step. One day shortly before I was set to leave, my mother said, "You know, you really can change your mind. You don't have to go just because you said so." I believe she wanted to give me a last chance to back out with minimal embarrassment. My reply was simple: "I know, Morn, but I want to be a sister." From that day on no more was said. My father died a year later, and my mother was proud of my life choice. She later became a lay associate in my community. Mom's words often ring in my ears: "Just because you said so." Certainly I am not the same person I was at fourteen, but there are traces of that determined girl still inside. I am not the same person I was at final profession twenty-five years ago. But there is one thing I pray never changes, that I am a woman of my word. To me this is a very positive quality. While "just because I said so" can deteriorate into an authoritarian dictate held over the head of a student (and I confess to having resorted to it more than once in a classroom of questioning teens), these same words are to me a sign of fidelity and com-mitment. I gave my word and I intend to keep it, not grudgingly but joyfully. Whether from genetics or my serious temperament or both, when I tell someone I am going to do some-thing, I make it my business to follow through. This can lead to scrupulosity or unhealthy guilt if I am not care-ful. I can place unrealistic expectations on myself (or on others through transference) as I strive to pray for all the prayer requests, write all those notes, make those phone calls, or do those favors that I promised I would. As I have noticed, other temperaments seem to have no Review for Relig4ous problem breaking those promises, skipping those phone calls, or never getting back to me, but they also have fewer sleepless nights. I believe that giving my word to others is about the best I can give them. In this I share God's own view-- giving God's Word was the best of gifts. Giving my word to God on my profession day symbolized all of me with nothing held back. This perpetual commitment, lived out one day, one moment, at a time, is a beautiful gift that I hope to never take back or take for granted. Not knowing the trials, temptations, or dryness that lay ahead could not lessen the fullness of the gift. In fact it only served to increase the value. God took me at my word, and the journey of religious life has been remarkable. Unlike in a marriage vow, I am guaranteed the fidelity of my Partner, and if there is any cooling in the relationship it can only be on one side! "Just because I said so" is in itself hardly a solid enough motivation for perseverance. These words can easily reflect mere stubbornness or the desire to prove something to myself or others. I have seen some sisters leave the community, even after final profession, because this motivation to please self or a parent was the sole force behind their entering religious life. If love, humility, and grace do not underlie my words, then I am foolish and my life is a sham and an exercise in self-righteousness. Giving my word verbally and on the vow formula signed on the altar came after long years of trial and preparation. My commitment was not made as a naive religious wearing rose-colored glasses. I had seen many "heroes" leave the community, had watched the divi-siveness of Vatican II experimentation, and had been asked to step forward and take my place as a responsible member of the community. Publicly pronouncing the words "I vow to almighty God perpetual chastity, 6~ .2 2006 Schultz ¯ ~st Because I Said So poverty, and obedience" was the best I could do, then and now. I would do it all over again today, even know-ing what would lie ahead. I would once again give my word. At the time of my entrance, I believe I had it much easier because, while there were hundreds of communi-ties, my familiarity with them was very limited. Many girls entered a community whose members had taught them or with whom there was already a relative or a close association. This is not the case today, especially with so few religious left in the classrooms. A young person discerning religious life today has a greater challenge than I did forty years ago, partly because of the wide array, of choices open to her. Even after deciding to become a religious, someone could literally spend years of her life visiting monasteries and convents for "Come and see" weekends. With the easy availability of appeal-ing vocation literature and online access, a serious and thorough examination of multiple communities might even turn her into a delayed vocation! What is it that makes a young woman decide on a particular community? What makes a heart resonate and feel at home with one group rather than another? I feel that, when all is said and done, communities must sim-ply be who they say they are. Authenticity is the key that will unlock commitment. After forty years of communal soul-searching, it is time for communities simply to move on. It is time to claim who we are, corporately commit to the charism, and put all our energies into authentic liv-ing of our foundress's spirit here and now in the 21st century. There can be no going back. Now is the time for simply joining hands, holding tight, and boldly moving ahead according to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. This is the gift we have to offer new members, a gift that will enliven our future. Review for Religious Young people, seeking authentic community, will go where they find the real deal. And how can such a com-munity survive today except through common prayer, deep spirituality, shared vision and lifestyle, corporate witness, and joyful life in the Spirit of Jesus. This is what they seek, hoping against hope that such groups exist and will provide them with the challenge they desire so ardently. We have a responsibility to live up to our word. We are here because we said we would be. I am here because I said so. And is this not a Godlike quality--giving one's word? God's Word and our own are why we are all here in the first place. Personal Reflection / Group Conversation 1. What has been my experience of "growing into a com-mitment"? 2. What led me to joining this religious congregation of which I am a member? 65.2 2006 religious VIMAL TIRIMANNA Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? implications In January 2002, I was in a bus on my way from Colombo to Kandy, Sri Lanka. Next to me in the same seat was a Buddhist monk. He was very friendly and kept me engaged in a lively con-versation on various matters about our two reli-gions till we reached Kandy, a journey of some three hours. At one stage he wanted to know why the cardinal archbishop of Boston had to resign (an issue widely reported in our local newspapers). I said that it was due to allegations (especially by the media) of his not having made responsible decisions regarding several errant priests of his archdiocese who were involved in sexual abuse. The Buddhist monk was visibly surprised, for till then he was of the opinion that the archbishop had to resign because he him-self was involved in sexual abuse. This Buddhist monk may be excused for his inaccurate impres-sion, but one wonders how many of our own Vimal Tirimanna wrote for us in May-June 2001. His address until October 2006 is Redemptorists; Frangipani; No. 80 Ampitiya Road; Kandy, Sri Lanka. Review for Religious Catholics, including religious and priests, are unaware of why Cardinal Law had to resign. If the factors and reasons that led him to resign from the prestigious Archdiocese of Boston had been applied to various other bishops and religious superiors around the world today, one wonders how many would have had to follow Cardinal Law and resign their posts. It is no exaggeration to say that, in cases of sexual abuse and also in other crucial areas of priestly and religious life, a good number of church leaders are badly wanting in their pas-toral responsibility and accountability towards their sub-jects and institutes. This arises from not making responsible timely decisions, decisions that ought to have been made for the common good of the diocese or reli-gious congregation and for the good of the church. Note that in this article we are not dealing with an occasional failure to make a responsible decision, which is some-thing normal since bishops and superiors are human; we are dealing with habitual negligence to make decisions on the part of bishops and religious superiors. Consistent, habitual evasion of making decisions has contributed immensely to the contemporary difficulties in priestly and religious life and in church life in general. This is the main point of this article. I write this article from my fifteen years of experi-ence as a retreat preacher to the clergy (both diocesan and religious) in Sri Lanka and elsewhere, and also from the experience I gained from my close association with major superiors as president of the Conference of the Major Religious Superiors of Sri Lanka (for two terms, four years) and from being the major superior of the Redemptorists in Sri Lanka (for three terms, nine years). I limit myself here to consecrated life and then to show-ing how the irresponsibility and unaccountability of a good number of religious superiors have contributed to 6Y.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? 168, the present disturbed state of consecrated life. I will ana-lyze briefly what authority means in the Christian tradi-tion, and then I will try to show how secular democratic political trends have affected the role of superiors, how their craving for popularity among their subjects has often inhibited them from making many a vital consci-entious decision. I will show that in these situations it is impossible for prophetic and diplomatic roles to func-tion simultaneously. I will conclude by highlighting the need today for religious superiors to make conscientious, pastoral, and courageous decisions for the sake of the common good of their institutes, and thus give prophetic leadership to today's world. Authority in the Christian Tradition Jesus clearly condemns oppressive and despotic power wielded by the rulers of nations (Mk 10:42). He tells his disciples who were arguing about which of them was the greatest that he who wants to be great must make him-self the least of all and serve others (Mk 9:33-35). For him, true authority is for service in truth, as he so tellingly demonstrated throughout his earthly life, which reached a climax at the last supper when he washed the feet of his own apostles (Jn 13:115). Emulating Jesus' teaching, the Christian tradition has always held that authority is for service. Accordingly, all leaders, civil as well as ecclesiastical, are expected to be servants of the common good of the group that is entrusted to them. A New Testament image dear to the early Christian community was Jesus the good shepherd. This is shown especially in the frescoes in the early catacombs. A shep-herd carrying a sheep on his.shoulders is a common fig-ure in those early places of worship. In fact, the concept of shepherd or "p, astor" and the adjective "pastoral" are woven into our inherited tradition regarding authority. ¯ Review for Religious To be a pastor or shepherd is to take flocks to where there is food and water, looking out for their safety and well-being. In our Christian tradition, leadership, whether in consecrated life or in a diocese, requires the care, compassion, and concern of a shepherd towards his sheep. The well-being of the flock and of each individ-ual sheep ought to be the - - - shepherd or pastor's top priority. If shepherds or pastors are more concerned about themselves, they cease to be shepherds and become hirelings concerned first of all with fattening themselves (see Ezk 34, Jn - - 10:7-18). Superiors, then, are supposed to be shepherds, serving the flock entrusted to them, not seeking their own good, not even their own survival. It is, of course, true that consecrated life has changed drastically in our day and so has the style of community leadership. It is sufficient to compare and contrast the era before Vatican Council II and afterwards. No one would argue today for the type of leadership that was prevalent in consecrated life before the council. It is also true that the way "authority" and "leadership" are under-stood varies from culture to culture. Regardless of the differences in worldviews and the ways of exercising authority, one essential and undeniable element of authority is that superiors' decision making must be for the common good. In the church in general and in con-secrated life in particular, such decision making is vital. After the initial stages of involving as many members as possible in the decision-making process, religious supe-riors must not abdicate their own decision making under any pretext. If they do so, they cease to serve the good of The Christian tradition has' always held that authority is for service. 6L2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correa'? 170 the community. This was expressed well in the instru-mentum laboris of the ordinary assembly of the Synod of Bishops held in 1994, on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World": The role of authority is that of a sure and authorita-tive guide, of inspiration and encouragement, so that an environment of fraternal communion can be cre-ated, one which can facilitate personal spiritual growth and the fulfillment of the apostolic mission, without, however, declining the responsibility to decide when-ever necessary. (§59) The postsynodal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (1996) of Pope John Paul II said: While authority must be above all fraternal and spir-itual, and while those entrusted with it must know how to involve their brothers and sisters in the deci-sion- making process, it should still be remembered that the final word belongs to authority and, consequendy, that authority has the right to see that decisions made are respected. (§43, emphasis in the original text) Superiors Seeking Popularity in Their Communities The latter decades of the 20th century are noted for the spread of democracy in different parts of the globe. Democracy has become a universally accepted human value. Even countries that are not yet democratic are striving, indeed yearning, for it. This is surely a wel-come change for the whole of humanity. Normally democracy not only guarantees human rights on the basis of individuals' inherent dignity, but also for the com-mon good assures the participation of every citizen in the political decision making. Since democracy assures citizens' right to change those in authority after an agreed term of office, those officials normally spend a lot of their energy and resources to be popular, for it is their popularity that ensures their success at elections. Rarely do they offend citizens in public or make unpop- Review for Religious ular decisions even when such decisions are necessary for the common good. If they do, their very survival is at stake. With the mass media often playing the role of watchdog, political leaders today are pressured to say and do the "politically correct" thing. The phrase is fast becoming common parlance. The more "politically cor-rect" you are, the more popular you become. Political leaders who dare to make unpopular decisions, even though such decisions are dictated by their consciences and demanded by the common good, are being thrown out of office. Parallel to happenings in the secular world are some of the ways that religious congregations do things. Thanks to Vatican II, gone are the rigid (and sometimes absurd) practices that marked consecrated life in the years before the council. Although religious congrega-tions cannot be considered democracies in a literal sense, wider participation in congregational and community decision making has brought a lot of relevance and good sense to consecrated life. Today sensible persons heave a sigh of relief and thank God that most of the irrational and dictatorial ways of being a religious superior are over. Today religious superiors are really meant to serve the common good of the flock entrusted to them. The secular concept of democracy surely has had a positive influence on these changes in religious life. Our own experience during the past couple of decades, however, shows that the same concept of democ-racy also seems to have had a negative effect on many religious superiors. Just as secular political leaders earnestly seek popularity, and survive and eventually move up the political ladder because of their popularity, today's religious superiors often seem to seek such pop-ularity within their own congregations for their mere survival and sometimes for their upward mobility either !171 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correa'? 172 in the congregation or in the hierarchy. Many of our contemporary religious superiors are doubly careful not to make "politically incorrect" decisions that would make them unpopular among the members of their congrega-tions and thus bring about their own downfall. The wider consultations (and, in many congregations, elections) that since Vatican II are rightly carried out in electing or appointing religious superiors seem to put the supe-riors in a dilemma. On the one hand, to be elected or reelected, they have to be popular or well accepted. On the other hand, to be popular or well accepted, they have to play to the gallery by not making decisions that would upset the majority of the members. Note that by "pop-ularity" I do not mean the mere acceptability of superi-ors to the other members of the community, which is a must in consecrated life. I mean the kind of "popular-ity" that is gained by not offending numbers of influen-tial people. People accrue such "popularity" by not making decisions that are badly needed for the common good--even when their conscience prompts them to do so. They avoid certain good decisions simply because they would offend the majority of the members. It is a "popularity" that is gained and sustained by pandering to a lumpenproletariat. The more superiors do not make deci-sions that would make them unpopular with the major-ity, the more acceptable they become all around. The more they evade their bounden duty to make decisions that could make them unpopular, the greater their chances of getting reelected or reappointed. This is why today, in quite a number of congregations, we hear mem-bers saying: "We made sure to have so-and-so elected because we are sure he (or she) will not rock the boat." To illustrate the point here, let us look at the now popular sabbaticals. Is it always those who really deserve a real break after a tedious involvement in the congre- Review for Religious gational apostolate who get a sabbatical today? Are all those who go for sabbaticals the "burnt-out" persons? What about the way some superiors treat members who complain that they lack self-fulfillment? Are they not fre-quently permitted to find their "self-fulfillment" by get-ting into any and every personal apostolate or pet project, even when these cut them off from their communities? Today it is not uncommon to send abroad for higher stud-ies persons who are erratic or wanting in their basic reli-gious commitment. The persons concerned may not even have the capacity for studies, but to some superiors this seems a diplomatic way of handling the problem, at least temporarily. They do not realize or do not wish to real-ize that such evasions leave the problem for their suc-cessors in office. Such ways of acting are neither just nor charitable even from the point of view of the persons thus treated. Instead of addressing the real problem of the person with genuine charity and justice, they tem-porarily circumvent the issue, not out of sympathy, but instead out of concern for their own survival. Regrettably, avoiding good hard decisions has become an accepted way of being "politically correct" in consecrated life today. So has making decisions that are only temporarily satis-factory, and may be disastrous in the long run. In both these cases, the problematic root is "political correct" words and deeds or superiors' spui'ious "popularity." Prophecy and Diplomacy Do Not Sit Well Together But is conscious evading or circumventing of deci-sions morally correct? Is it the way to be prophetic? Time and again one hears it said: "Well, this is the way things have turned out in consecrated life today, and so what can we do?" "This is the way even most of the bish-ops act, and so what is wrong if our own religious supe-riors do the same?" Unfortunately, this way of looking at 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? 174 1 things seems to ignore the very nature and purpose of consecrated life. From its very origins, one of the char-acteristics of consecrated life has been its prophetic nature. Pope John Paul II in his ~ta consecrata enunciated this point well: There is a prophetic dimension which belongs to the consecrated life as such, resulting from the radical nature of the following of Christ and of the subse-quent dedication to the mission characteristic of the consecrated life. The sign value, which the Second Vatican Council acknowledges in the consecrated life, is expressed in prophetic witness to the primacy which God and the truths of the gospel have in Christian life. (§84) A careful scrutiny of history would show us how, at different moments of decadence in church life, it was consecrated life that raised the church out of decadence through its witnessing, thus giving the church prophetic leadership: In effect, the consecrated life is at the very heart of the church as a decisive element for her mission, since it "manifests the inner nature of the Christian calling" and the striving of the whole church as Bride toward the union with her one Spouse. At the Synod it was stated on several occasions that the consecrated life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God, since it is an inti-mate part of her life, her holiness, and her mission. (~ta consecrata, §3; emphasis in the original) So, to argue that the superiors are only emulating the way things are done by the hierarchical church lead-ership is not correct, for consecrated life has to give the lead to the rest of the church, even regarding pastoral leadership. As the late moral theologian Father Bernard Hiiring often told his students, prophecy and diplomacy (in today's parlance, "politically correctness") do not and Review for Religious cannot sit together comfortably. One has to give way to the other. A good number of contemporary religious superiors fail to make proper decisions because they wish to be "politically correct." Thus they not only betray their own vocation to be prophetic, but they gravely damage the common good of the communities entrusted to them. Besides, if a religious superior is supposed to be a pastor, then he has the bounden duty towards the well being of the members. This duty includes fraternal cor-rection. If members go astray and deviate from the group's charism, it is the duty of the shepherd (the reli-gious superior) to begin fraternal correction in charity, even if it hurts. The supe-rior owes such correction to the individuals and the group. Their integral well-being as consecrated peo-ple is one of the superior's top priorities. If superiors shirk this difficult role of fraternal correction in order to be "politically cor-rect," they have no right to Consecrated life has to give the lead to the rest of the church, even regarding pastoral leadership. remain in office, because they have failed in their pri-mary duty of working towards the well-being of the con-gregation and the church. Superiors who do not have as their goal the common good of the congregation and the church contribute to their decadence. Instead of swimming against the popular secular currents, they clearly betray the consecrated prophetic life so well explained by Pope John Paul II: In our world, where it often seems that the signs of God's presence have been lost from sight, a convinc-ing prophetic witness on the part of consecrated per- 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? sons is increasingly necessary. Consecrated per-sons are being asked to bear wimess everywhere with the boldness of a prophet who is unafraid of risking even his life. (VC §85) Prophetic Leadership Will the majority of superiors in consecrated life con-tinue to allow the secular democratic political trends to be their model in the coming years? Or will they give prophetic leadership to their own communities by acting according to the moral norms of what is right and wrong? Will they act for their own "good" or for the common good of their institutes? The writer is con-vinced that it is high time that religious superiors become more responsible and accountable in their decision mak-ing as animators, and thus allow their consciences, their specific religious charisms, and the common good to be the norms in their decision making. The norm of being "politically correct" should be the last in their list of pri-orities, for they are certainly not to be "politicians" who eagerly seek popularity, as in the secular world. In this way, they not only will arrest the decline in the quality of contemporary consecrated life, but will also be giving prophetic leadership to the church and the world. 176 Review for Religious BRENDAN KNEALE Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious Before Vatican Council II most Catholic priests, eligious, and laypeople had no "identity crisis." We knew who we were, our place seemed well defined, and we had no impending threat of change. Our per-sonal identity and our .social identity were clear and unthreatened, It may, however, be a good thing that after the council we had to take a close look at our identity. Perhaps we ought to question the quality of our earlier identity. Did it show signs of the identity claims that Pharisees made in Christ's time? They and the scribes were quite self-assured groups. Some of us were, too, maybe to the point of blind confidence in our identity. Among religious there was a saying:?'Keep the Rule and the Rule will keep you." It was, we can see now, a dan-gerous motto, even though it assured our identity. St. Paul, who had been a strict Pharisee, came to realize the danger. Brendan Kneale FSC taught for many years at Saint Mary's College of California. Now retired, he lives at De La Salle Institute; 4405 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among, Nonclerical Religious What should have happened after Vatican II was a strengthening and sharpening of our identity. Unfortunately, that was not the popular perception of the changes that had been made. Even though changes initiated by the council were intended as clarifications and improvements, we tended to feel, instead, that things were no longer well defined. Shortly after the council, we heard of religious teachers here or there whose dress, teaching, and behavior led students to express surprise that they were religious or even Catholics. After Vatican II, people asked, "Is this the same church?" Some religious and priests asked, "Is mine the same apostolate?" "Is my school or hospital still Catholic?" "Is there any longer a place for the conse-crated life?" After Vatican II many teachers wondered, "Does the syllabus for my catechetical instruction in the classroom truly represent what I believe?" Or "Are all the liturgical innovations good?" And religious asked, "Have laypeople taken over our role?" "Who am I now?" A Definition of Identity It would be refreshing if all who talk about "iden-tity" were really sure what they are talking about. Few people have a clear definition of the term. In various contexts we confuse identity with "self-image" or "per-sonhood" or "character," or perhaps with "individual-ity," "uniqueness," or an adopted "persona." Fortunately, there are careful thinkers available to address the prob-lem of identifying identity. We are told that Erik Erikson, the psychologist who coined the term "identity crisis" (right after Vatican II, significantly), believed that an identity crisis is "the most important conflict human beings encounter." His defi-nition of psychological identity ran as follows: "a sub-jective sense as well as an observable quality of personal Review for Religious sameness and continuity, paired with some belief in the sameness and continuity of some shared world image." Such a definition has the virtue of pointing squarely at both personal and social identity, that is, both private and public. Lexicographers agree that there are two chief emphases in the notion of identity. Etymologically "iden-tity" (from the Latin idem, the same) is, first of all, an enduring and distinctive individuality and, second, a social or relational "belonging." That is, peo-ple are identifiable by their unique and continu-ing sameness (generally indicated by a permanent - name and fixed array of recognizable psychological traits), and they are identifiable by what membership they have within a recognized group. Thus, in answer to "Who are you?" we will give our name to help the questioner to recall our uniqueness, or we will describe (if our uniform does not indicate it) what recognizable place we occupy in a clear social category. Thus we have a private identity and a public identity. Note that the two identities support each other. In fact, an African proverb has it that "I am because we are." A way to gain insight into identity is to contrast it with related ideas. We should try to keep the terminol-ogy clear about what identity is not. It is not "charac-ter," which is "a constellation of enduring motivational and other traits that are manifested in the typical ways that we react to various challenges." Character, then, may be taken as the moral side of one's identity. Nor is identity simply "self." "Self is a unified being which is the source of an idiosyncratic consciousness, the agent We have a.private identity and a public identity. 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious responsible for the thoughts and actions of an individual to which they are ascribed." Hence self is an abstract or generic term for "personal identity"; it is not the same as the important and complementary "social identity." None of the following words is a synonym for iden, tity. "Individual" is mostly a quantitative term; it is related to the words undivided and indivisible. "Person"~ is, according to Thomas Aquinas, "the individual substance of a rational soul" and does not disappear if one's identity is vague or shifting. "Personality" is something different; it includes the social as well as the more strictly personal. Dictionaries say that personality is the complex of char-acteristics that distinguishes an individual or a group or nation--but especially the totality of an individual's behavioral and emotional characteristics. Identity is at the core of this "complex of characteristics" (which makes the loss of identity a serious matter). "Persona" and "role" derive from drama, from play-acting, and are of co,urse the weakest versions of what we mean by identity. In an extended article in Consecrated Life 24, no. 2 (February 2003), Father Amadeo Cencini has developed the notion of social identity by emphasizing the id.entity which comes from "belonging." He uses that word because, in identifying ourselyes, we often specify the career, occupation, group, race, persuasion, and so forth to which we "belong." Those of us belonging to conse-crated life may identify ourselves as members of a named religious institute and belonging here or there within it. This answer makes our personal identity derivable, to some extent, from that of the larger group. Sometimes our identity is seen as tied to "our roots" within a social group. Suppose, however, that the group to which one iden-tifies oneself.as belonging (say, a religious institute) has itself no clear identity. If that group has an identity that Review for Religious is fuzzy or vague, then one of the two main sources of identity (namely, "belonging") is comproinised. A reli-gious institute could have evolved (perhaps calling the change "refounding the order") into something different from .what it was. Moreover, even the larger church, to which the institute belongs, could itself also change enough to confuse people about its own identity. For example, the church could seem to speak without a clear voice about itself, and an institute of consecrated life could becom~ canonically unsure about whether laypeo-pie are "members." Or it might interpret certain changes (like emphasis on adult education or on political involve-ment) as challenges to its identity as teachers of youth or caretakers of the sick. It could wonder if other forms of social service rather than classroom or hospital work should be what the church asks for. Official Ecclesial Positions Readers will know that since Vatican II the church has taken up the problem of identity officially and for-mally. The Vatican (following special synods of bishops) has published three clarifying documents, one each for the benefit of priests, laypeople, and religious. The doc-ument about religious is called ~ta consecrata (1996) and addresses the nature and identity of consecrated life. In particular, and depending heavily on the work of a pre-vious world synod of bishops, Vita konsecrata devoted its section 57 to the role of sisters and section 60 to broth-ers. These paragraphs include the following excerpts: By virtue of their dedication lived in fullness and in joy, consecrated women are called in a very special way to be signs of God's tender love toward the human race and to be special witnesses to the mystery of the church, virgin, bride, and mother . Certainly the validity of many assertions relating to the position of 181 65.2 2006 Kneale * Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Relig4ous .women in different sectors of society and of the church cannot be denied . Women's new self-awareness helps men to reconsider their way of looking at things, the way they understand themselves, where thE)) place themselves in history and how they interpret it, and the way they organize social, political, economic, reli-gious, and ecclesial life . The consecrated woman . . . can help eliminate certain one-sided perspectives which do not fully rec-ognize her dignity and her specific contribution to the church's life and pastoral and missionary activity. Consecrated women therefore rightly aspire to have their identity, ability, mission, and responsibility more clearly recognized, both in the awareness of the church and in everyday life. The consecrated life by its nature "is neither lay nor clerical" . The "lay consecration" of both men and women constitutes a state which in its profession of the evangelical counsels is complete in itself. for the individual and for the church . . . apart from the sacred ministry. The synod expressed great esteem for the kind. of consecrated life in which r.eligious brothers provide valuable services of various kinds, inside or outside the community, participating in this way in the mission of proclaiming the gospel and bearing witness to it with charity in everyday life. Although [lay institutes] perform many works in common with the lay faithful, [members] do so inso-far as. they are consecrated and thereby express the spirit of total self-giving to Christ and the church, in accordance with ~heir specific charism. The term "brother" suggests a rich spirituality. ¯ Brothers are an effective reminder to religious priests themselves of the fundamental dimension of brother-hood in Christ, to be lived among themselves and with every man and woman, and they proclaim to all the Lord's words: "And you are all brothers" (M(23:8). We might add that, when Father Amadeo Cencini wrote about the problem of identity, he called attention Review for Religious to the important role of an institute's charism--a point also emphasized in Vita consecrata. An obvious way to increase a sense of our belonging (and our identity) is by attachment to the institute's charism (provided that the corporate identity is itself clear). Cencini notes that some individual reli-gious are weakly con-nected to the charism of their institute, or hold divided loyalties, or, on the other hand, immerse themselves within it in a psycho-logically unhealthy way. We can recall in Some individual religious are weak!y connect, ed to the charism of their institute or hold divided loyalties. this connection the recommendations of the classic work The Future of Religious Orders in the U.S.: Transformation and Commitment by Father David Nygren and Sister Miriam Ukeritis. The proper connection to the charism and the best sense of belonging are to be found, says Cencini, by a deepening of one's attachment to the charism in three ways: by way of prayer and spiritual-connection, by ascetically conforming to the lifestyle of the institute's norms, and by real engagement in the common aposto-late. (Perhaps he could have added: study and grasp of the relevant literature.) This last point about "real engagement" raises an acute problem for some conse-crated religious: What identifies us as distinct from our secular associates and coworkers? If one uses a simply functional definition of our state, then the problem is indeed acute. Many of our secular associates, such as Gospel Catholics, practice in accordance with their voca-tions a chastity, obedience, and poverty that are often more difficult than ours. They sometimes show more 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious 184 talent, dedication, and leadership than their religious colleagues. If, however, we consider who we are and do not just look at our function, then we see a.radical dif-ference between us and them. If we are aware what we are in relation to the evangelical counsels and in rela-tion to auxiliary vows, what we are in terms of commu-nity life, what we are in relation to mobility, to the radicality, quality, and scope of our availability and ser-vice, then we should not have a problem. In addition tb ~vhat Cencini writes about an insti-tute's common and received charism, wecould emphasize the desirability of our contributing to the charism in some innovative way. If we could do that, it seems to me, we would increase our sense of belonging, and even of "ownership." Each of us should bring to the charism, by conscious effort, an enrichment that stems from our personal talents, from our studies, and from our auxiliary memberships in professional and religious associations (in relation to which we can see our own identity more clearly). Charism is not static. Individuals enrich the charisms of their communities. The differing charisms of various consecrated reli-gious groups illustrate a principle that helps clarify cor-porate identity, namely, the principle of an institutional subsidarity and "division of labor" within the church. Each institute has its own apostolic charism and thus its own responsibility. It is true that numerous apostolic needs are great and pressing, and occasionally they are overriding, but normally we keep our corporate identity by doing our own apostolic labor, not th

Issue 70.1 of the Review for Religious, 2011. ; Determining Change Making the: Spiritual Exercises ,Growing Spiritually Exploring Religious Life QUARTERLY 70.1 2 0 i 1 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul vI said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯\Veb site: ~-w.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2011 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 1{)8 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 distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournal of Ca~hohc ~piri~uah~ Celebrating 70 Years Editor Book Review Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board Michael G. Harter sJ Rosemary Jermann Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martir~ Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 70.1 2011 contents prisms 4 Prisms 6 17 determining change Agents of Change: Six Models Louis M. Savary shares and explains six models of being a change agent that were created by a long ago deceased Jesuit, Joseph Grau. Christ-like Empathy in Those Who Govern John H. Zupez SJ draws on Mark's gospel to encourage religious superiors and anyone exercising authority to learn from the empathy of Jesus shown towards others. 25 44 making the spiritual exercises The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Path to Virtue James Menkhaus explores the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, using the language of virtue ethics and emphasizing a new understanding of the virtues of friendship and presence. Reflecting on Readiness to Make the Spiritual Exercises Myree Harris RSJ offers some possible questions and reflections for a better assessment of retreatants' readiness to enter into the full 30oday Spiritual Exercises experience. Review for Religious 59 growing spiritually Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective Julius D. Leloczky OCist reflects on the contemporary obsession with death and recalls how our Christian faith gives us a life-perspective. Spiritual Direction 101 J. Thomas Hamel SJ reflects on the practice of spiritual direction understood as a dual ministry with the roles of giving and receiving by the director and the directee. 73 84 exploring religious life Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons Phyllis Zagano suggests that in light of the Apostolic Visitation of U.S. women religious the monastic framework proposed applies to the minority of institutes and religious vocations, whereas the larger body of institutes and new vocations are moving to other ways of ministering, presaging the church's return to the ancient vocation of the diaconate for women. Revisiting Obedience William P. Clark OMI reviews the challenges that contemporary culture has presented to the understanding and practice of religious obedience. departments 95 Scripture Scope: Jeremiah: A Messenger of God Caught between a Rockand a Hard Place 100 Book Reviews 3 70.1 2011 prisms 4 I t seems strange to me to be writing my own farewell as editor. In the 68.4 issue of the 2009 journal, I had written in this space that I had been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and knew only that I had as long to live here as God wanted. As I write this, my death is not imminent, but I did want to see an orderly transition of my editor's responsibilities. I have completed 22 years as editor, and it has been for me a privilege to publish so many authors, a call to a continuing learning experience, and an occa-sion of the deepening of my own religious life. I hope and pray that our readers can also identify a learning and deepening for their religious lives as their experience of this journal. As the title page indicates, Father Michael G. Harter SJ is the new editor, beginning with this current volume. Father Harter brings his own rich life experience to this job. He has been involved in religious formation both as assistant novice director and as novice director and director of Ministry Training Services in Denver, Colorado. He has been managing editor of the Jesuit maga-zine America. He has been called to religious leadership as a community superior and as the provincial executive assistant. He has served on the board of Praesidium, the accrediting agency in abuse risk management. He has traveled exten-sively and knows church and religious life from Europe to Africa to India to Australia. In fact, he served as associate editor of Review for Religious for two years before he became novice director Review for Religious for the Jesuit St. Paul novitiate and wrote the single Prisms not under my name. At the same time, I would also like to introduce Rosemary Jermann as our new book editor. Rosemary Jermann also brings a rich experience in editing; she has been a co-editor of Theology Digest up to its last publica-tion in June 2010. Because Theology Digest was sponsored by the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Louis Unversity, Jermann also had the opportunity to teach within the department. She will also contribute her edito-rial skills to the final product of each issue. Any editor is only as good as the staff and board that monitor and support him. I have been extremely fortunate in having a devoted staff identified in Mary Ann Foppe, Judy Sharp, Tracy Gramm, and Jean Read (t), and asso-ciate editors as Iris Ann Ledden SSND, Regina Siegfried ASC, Clare Boehmer ASC, Philip Fischer SJ (t), Michael Harter SJ, Canon Law editors Richard Hill SJ (~') and Elizabeth McDonough OP, and Scripture Scope editor Eugene Hensell OSB. We as editors and staff have received invaluable help from our past and present advisory board members since 1990: David J. Hassel SJ (~), Mary Margaret Johanning SSND (~'), Iris Ann Ledden SSND, Sean Sammon FMS, Wendy Wright, Suzanne Zuercher OSB, Edmundo Rodriguez SJ, Joanne Wolski Conn, David Werthmann CSSR, Joel Rippinger OSB, Patricia Wittberg SC, Jim and Joan Felling, Kathryn Richards FSp, Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ, Adrian Gaudin SC (?), Raymond Marie Gerard FSP, Eugene Hensell OSB, Miriam Ukeritis csJ, Lou and Angela Menard, Martin Erspamer OSB, Kathleen Hughes RSCJ, Bishop Terry Steib SVD, Margaret Guider OSF, and Paul 5" Coutinho SJ. My thanks to everyone. Remember me in your prayers. David L. Fleming SJ 70.1 2011 LOUIS M. SAVARY Agents of Change: Six Models determining change We are all called to be agents of change. It is a human calling as well as a Christian call-ing. However, we are not all called to be the same kind of change agent. A dear friend of mine, long ago deceased, Joseph Grau, a Jesuit priest for many years, created a simplified way of identifying the different kinds of change agent styles available. His naming and defining of these six models is a genuine contribution to contemporary spiritual practice, and his insights deserve to be re-presented. I share this article as a tribute to him. The Three Players in Making a Change According to Dr. Grau, there are six mod-els of change agency, each of which has three major players: (I) the People, (2) the Structure, (3) the Change Agent. Louis M. Savary PhD, STD, may be addressed at 3404 Ellenwood Lane; Tampa, Florida 33618. Review for Religious The term "People" refers to the set of persons who want or need change. Included in "People" are the individu-als and groups experiencing treatment that is unfair, unjust, unsafe, abusive, prejudicial, or cruel but who cannot effectively defend or protect themselves from the harmful situation or who cannot change and correct the unwelcome situation by themselves. Certain groups may be enduring racial prejudice, unsafe working conditions, unfair employer demands, denial of human rights, political oppression, gender discrimination, rejection by a church, or unequal treat-ment by institutions such as insurance companies, credit card companies, banks, educational institutions, or law enforcement. Individuals who want or need change might include children who are physically or sexually abused by family members, students being bullied at school, employees being harassed at the workplace, or those in neighbor-hoods that are unsafe because of gang warfare. "People" may also be extended to include animals and other forms in nature, since animals (that is, endan-gered species) and nature (that is, forests, the ozone layer) are often helpless by themselves to change an unsafe or destructive environment caused by humans. The term "Structure" refers to the unjust societal or institutional structure that is in need of change. "Structure" is the generalized term used here .for any existing politi-cal, social, cultural, ecclesiastical, or familial situation or system that allows, promotes, or condones practices that are unjust, unfair, illegal, uncaring, biased, abu-sive, or cruel to individuals or groups who usually can-not defend or protect themselves from such situations. These harmful situations may have been caused or cre-ated by unfair or unjust laws, lack of awareness, corrupt 70.1 2011 Savary ¯ Agents of Change If you choose to be a Change Agent in an unfair situation, you can play at least six different roles-- in helping to effect the needed change. 8 political organizations, racially biased societal norms, prejudicial cultural prac6ces, religious bigotry, oppres-sive government, inadequate social services, or abusive family behavior. The "Change Agent" (CA) is one who chooses to try to change an unsafe, unjust, or unfair Structure in favor of the affected People. The "Change Agent" is usu-ally viewed as an individual but could be a small group of people. If you choose to be a Change Agent in an unfair situation, you can act in at least six different ways--or play at least six different roles--in helping to effect the needed change. 1. The Advocate Agent of Change ~ The most common model of change agent is'the advocate (CA) who personally confronts the Structure on behalf of the People. The Advocate Agent is often inde-pendent of and outside the group of people for whom he or she is advocating. For example, in a class action suit against, say, a pharmaceutical company (the Structure), a lawyer (CA) personally advocates in court on behalf of the consumers who have been treated unfairly or unjustly (the People). Thus, on behalf of the People, the Change Agent tries to affect or influence the Structure: People--> CA--> Structure Lawyers are not the only Advocates. A teacher (CA) can approach the school administration (Structure) to Review for Relig4ous advocate on behalf of students (People) who need spe-cialized care or tutoring. A parent (CA) can approach the local police (Structure) and advocate for protection of children (People) who are being bullied on neighborhood streets. A therapist (CA) can write letters to Medicaid (Structure), advocating for certain patients (People) to receive disability payments. A teacher (CA) can write let-ters of recommendation to colleges (Structure), advocat-ing for certain students (People) to receive scholarships or financial aid. A physician (CA) can contact hospice (Structure) to advocate on behalf of dying patients (People). Pastoral ministers (CA) can approach the prison system (Structure), requesting religious training and other forms of spirituality for inmates (People). 2. The Empowerment Agent of Change In this second model, the Change Agent organizes and empowers the People, who then directly confront the Structure. There is a big difference between the first two models. In the Advocacy model, the CA deals directly with the Structure; in this second model the CA deals directly with the People wanting change, and not with the Structure. In this model, the CA teaches the People how to approach the Structure directly and advocate for themselves. The most obvious example of Empowerment is the community organizer. Empowerment Agents may or may not belong to the community they are empowering, but they obviously have charisma and organizing skills that most others don't possess. The Empowerment CA teaches people how to get organized, how to formulate and present their request, how to approach the people who representthe Structure; what their legal rights are, what to do in the face of resistance, how to develop a Plan B. 9 70.1 2011 Savary ¯ Agents of Change The Empowerment Agent works directly on the People, organizing and training them, so that the People are prepared to approach the Structure directly. Thus, CA--> People --> Structure In one of the social ministries at our parish, a min-istering couple (CA) trains unemployed people (People) in how to get jobs in the business world (Structure) by teaching them how to write effective resumes, how to answer questions in a job interview, how to dress prop-erly, how to network with other job seekers, and other skills useful in landing a job. Some professionals (CA) teach groups of unfairly treated workers (People) how to form labor unions in their workplaces (Structure) or how to demand safer working conditions. The Empowerment Agent knows how to generate "people pressure" to change a situation on behalf of cer-tain groups. Some years ago in Washington, DC, when natural childbirth procedures were becoming popular among mothers but not among doctors and hospitals, workshop leaders (CA) told expectant mothers (People) that they had a legal right to demand natural childbirth in a hospital (Structure). Although obstetricians pre-ferred to deliver babies through chemically-induced childbirth, the mothers' repeated demands for natural childbirth practices in hospitals prevailed. 3. The Lifestyle Agent of Change Grau's third model of change agency is the Lifestyle Agent. Here, the CA is one of the People and acts as one of them. Thus, the CA belongs to the very group of those seeking their rights or some concession they believe to be rightfully theirs. A common example is a group of college students (People) protesting some policy of the college (Structure) that they wish to change. Each of the protesting students is a CA. Or, to put it another way, Review for Religious the group of students as an entity (the People) is the CA. Although you or I as specific students in that group seem to be merely one of the protesting students, nevertheless, you and I are legitimately called CAs. In this scenario, People (CA) People --> Structure The most common forms of Lifestyle Agents include the protest march, the worker strike, the sit-in, the let-ter- writing campaign, and the political campaign. In each case, groups of people (who are both People and Change Agents) coordinate, organize, and mobilize their time, money, and efforts to change an unjust situation (Structure). During the 1960s, there was much resistance to racial integration of African Americans into white public institutions such as schools, churches, restaurants, and clubs. Two white couples in a Southern state desired to live a non-racially-prejudiced lifestyle. To an exclu-sive private school their own children were attending (Structure), they (CA) gave scholarships for a number of academically qualified African American children (People), whose applications the school could not reject. The same two couples invited African American cou-ples (People) to dine with them (CA) at their favorite exclusive "white" restaurant (Structure). The restaurant owner could either welcome the African Americans or lose the business of two wealthy white families who were regular and generous customers. The owner chose to keep earning money. 4. The Direct Service Agent of Change In some cases, the Structure (that is, the local gov-ernment) is incapable of meeting the needs of a group of People, such as the poor, the hungry, the homeless, or immigrants, because of a lack of funds or personnel. So, someone must step up and directly meet those needs. 70.1 2011 Savary ¯ Agents of Cl~ange 12 The Saint Vincent de Paul Society in church parishes is a Direct Service Agent, as are people who work in soup kitchens, who deliver food to shut-ins, or who tutor children who wouldn't otherwise ever learn to read. What is interesting about this model is its inde-pendence of the Structure. The Structure may refuse to meet the needs of such People, may be ignorant of those needs, or may even enact laws that outlaw such help. In this case, the Direct Service Agent provides direct service to the People in need, whether or not the Structure approves. Thus, CA--> People Structure Although the schema shows no arrow going from the People to the Structure, there is inevitably an effect produced on the Structure. Sometimes, the Structure is relieved and very grateful for the Direct Service CA, as was India (Structure) in the case of Mother Teresa (CA) and her service of the poorest and lowest classes (People). In other cases, as when those in church min-istry (CA) care for the needs of illegal immigrants (People), the CA may be acting in opposition to a civil ordinance (Structure). 5. The Ideological Agent of Change Most parents, teachers, counselors, and health pro-fessionals exemplify the Ideological Agents of change. Ideological Agents are shaping the minds and souls of the People in their care. Such CAs are working at a much more fundamental level than the Empowerment Agents are. Empowerment Agents typically organize and train a group of people to encounter the Structure on a specific issue, such as better treatment of gays in the community or requesting representation or a voice at a university's Board of Directors meetings. By contrast, the Ideological Agent is shaping the minds of people at a more general level. For example, Review for Religious religious teachers train students to think rationally and ethically, no matter what issue may arise in the future. Parents may instruct their children in proper social behavior--how to show gratitude, how to ask for things, how to play cooperatively. An English teacher may instruct students in how to communicate effectively through the written word and how to appreciate good writing. A history - - teacher may show students how to learn and grow wise from the study of history and the successes and failures of great men and women. A math teacher equips students for dealing with the financial and scientific dimensions of life. The counselor and health profes-sional help people deal with their basic emotional and physical issues so that they can be productive members of society. Financial advisors teach people how to man-age their money. Workshop leaders can teach people how to create the lives they desire. The work of the Ideological CA is, above all, foun-dational in nature. The CA is preparing persons (People) not only to live in society or in the church (Structures), but also to become intelligent and contributing members of such groups. In effect, the work of the Ideological CA is to prepare people to become effective agents of change themselves. Symbolically, CA--> People --> Structure In one sense, the effects the Ideological Agent has on the Structures of society or the church are mostly The effects the Ideological Agent has on the Structures of society or the church are mostly indirect, ~b~ut yet very powerful. 13 70.1 2011 Savary ¯ Agents of Change 14 indirect, but yet very powerful. Persons who have not learned to think for themselves, or who have little or no control over their emotions or instincts are not likely to become the best agents of change in society. The role of the Ideological Agent is therefore crucial for the development of society and of the church. Also not to be forgotten among the Ideological Agents are editors of newspapers and newsletters and writers of books, professional articles, and how-to pam-phlets. Many people today have websites or blogs that provide inspiration, give helpful hints, or steer people in the right direction. 6. The Institutional Agent of Change The sixth and final model is called Institutional. In this approach, the Institutional Agent (CA) is part of the Structure. Thus, in the church (Structure), a priest or bishop who is a part of that Structure can be an Institutional Agent (CA) if he works to change the Structure so that it benefits the People by meeting their need(s). A truly Institutional CA is always con-sciously thinking of the People and how he or she can make things better for the them. Structure (CA) --> Structure --> People Institutional CAs would also include elected politi-cal representatives, school officials, academic adminis-trators, mayors, governors, civil officials, ranking law enforcement officers, members of boards of directors, business managers, hospital supervisors, and officers of professional organizations. More Than One Style Most people use more than one style of change agency in their life and work. Some get to use all six. In the life of Jesus, we can find examples of most styles. Review for Religious He was certainly an Advocate (1) for the People when he spoke to the scribes, Pharisees, and priests. He was an Ideological CA (5) in the ways he taught people to live their lives. He used Direct Service (4) in healing the sick. As an Empowerment Agent (2), he trained his apostles and disciples on how to go among the people to preach and heal. Since he was neither a scribe nor a priest, he could not use the Institutional model. Members of Alcoholics Anonymous combine Lifestyle Agency, Direct Service Agency, and Ideological Agency in their various ways of working. They are affecting many layers of social and religious Structures, since they (and others in related twelve-step groups) are turning individuals, who were burdens on society and their families, into productive, income-producing, tax-paying citizens, good parents, and upstanding church members. What Are Your Preferred Styles of Change Agency? Dr. Joseph Grau, a student of the writings of French Jesuit Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, wrote his doctoral dissertation (as yet unpublished) on the ethics of Teilhard. In much of traditional Christian spirituality, Grau wrote, we are seen as independent persons, each seeking our own individual salvation by avoiding serious sin. In contrast, for Teilhard, as for St. Paul, all humanity (and the rest of creation) is living in the Cosmic Christ, who is daily growing, changing, and evolving toward his ultimate completion. In this perspective, Christians are not primarily isolated individuals, each independently seeking to save their own souls, but we are all inextricably interconnected in this great God Project. In St. Paul's words, we are the hands and feet, the eyes and ears of Christ on earth today, helping bring this Cosmic Christ to 70.1 2011 Savary * Agents of Change his fulfillment as destined by the Creator. Thus, we see the need for all to become effective change agents. Therefore, our spirituality today cannot be focused simply on avoiding sin. Rather we must be focused on consciously choosing actions that are designed to make a positive difference in the world. For Teilhard, we are all called to be Agents of Change in helping the Structures of our world become more just, kind, and caring for all those in need (People). We consciously choose to become Agents of Change so that Christ may be all in all. To accomplish this will require a lot of change and improvement in our world. What part will you play in the great God Project? Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Savary raises the question for our reflections: What are my preferred styles of change agency? Why are these my preferred styles? How is it helpful to reflect on the different models of change agency? Review for Religious JOHN H. ZUPEZ Christ-like Empathy in Those Who Govern One might address this topic through a study of "Paternal/Maternal Governance as an Ideal in Religious Communities." But that could get us into arguments over whether it is overstating the type of governance called for by our constitutions, or whether such governance is realistically possible. So I choose to focus on Jesus' way of dealing with people as an ideal and as inspiration for all followers of Christ, whether they be in a religious congregation or not. In religious congregations new challenges have arisen to experiencing empathy from those who gov-ern. Such empathy has suffered on several fronts in our times: the sophistication of relationships with those out-side our immediate circle of friends; the administrative burden of major superiors which puts more burden on the local superior; the diminishing pool of prospects for appointment as superior. You can probably think John H. Zupez SJ wrote for us on prayer in 1992 and 2009. He is currently pastor of Corpus Christi Church; 1005 N.E. 15th Street; Oklahoma City, Oklahoma 73117. 17 70.1 2011 Zupez * Christ-like Empathy in those Who Govern of other reasons why relations between religious and their superiors become strained. Empathy in superiors is most important since their community has no choice but to relate to them. These reflections may also help in keeping relations among community members from becoming strained. Empathy Wikipedia on the Internet has a long article on empa-thy that begins with the following description, involv-ing various aspects. It seems suitable to our purposes. Empathy is a "feeling of concern for other people that creates a desire to help them, experiencing emotions that match another person's emotions, knowing what the other person is thinking or feeling." This is a good description of Jesus' approach to people. Even if his keen intelligence and sensitivity bordered on the mirac-ulous at times, his dealings show his desire to get inside the mind and heart of those he addressed, to experi-ence and know from their perspective before trying to help them, at times with reproof. It didn't rule out an ever-sharpening critique of some religious attitudes he wanted to correct. But one never gets the idea that he missed the point, that he judged too harshly or without sufficient empathy for what others thought and felt. His empathetic way of understanding how people thought and felt typically led to his sympathetic and caring way of ministering to them. Reflecting on ways Jesus exhib-ited empathy in the gospel accounts can help us follow him more closely in this regard. Not all instances are equally illustrative, but together they show Jesus' great sensitivity as a model for his followers. References will be to Mark's Gospel. Even if some of Jesus' sayings here originated in the early church, Review for Religious they reflect a consistent personality trait of Jesus that was well-remembered by his followers. In Mark's Gospel ¯ In Mark's Gospel only Jesus hears his vocation call at the Jordan, after which he immediately goes "on retreat" and doesn't begin his ministry until John's arrest (1:10- 14). If we attribute greater historicity to this account than to the other Gospels, it shows great sensi-tivity on the part of Jesus to the feelings of the Baptist and -- complete appreciation for John's ministry, even though this would contribute to the survival of the Baptist move-ment alongside Christianity. ¯ Jesus calls James and John to follow him, leaving their father Zebedee alone with the hired hands (1:20). Scholars point to this as one of many signs that Jesus saw the end-time as imminent, for otherwise he would have shown more sympathy for the father who was left without his sons' help. ¯ Many times in the Gospels Jesus attributes ill behavior not to the free choice of persons but to unclean spirits that have taken possession of the persons (1:25). Can we see this as a case of empathy, of Jesus' most merciful judgment? ¯ When his disciples disturb his morning prayer, he doesn't reproach them but agrees with them that they rightly understand his mission (1:35-38). Again and again Jesus attributes his cures to the patent faith he perceived in those to whom he ministered. 19 70.1 2011 Zupez ¯ Christ-like Empathy in those Who Govern ¯ Jesus healed the leper and fed crowds that were hungry and "without a shepherd," being "moved with pity" or compassion (1:41, 6:34, 8:2), knowing how they felt. He also began his ministry showing great sensitivity toward the temple priests, allowing them to profit from the effect of his cures (1:44). ¯ Again and again Jesus attributes his cures to the patent faith he perceived in those to whom he minis-tered (2:5), and he "perceived in his spirit" the lack of faith in those who "questioned in their hearts" (2:6, 8). ¯ Jesus' only mention of fasting in Mark's Gospel came in order to defend the Baptist who required his disciples to fast (2:18-20). ¯ Jesus gave an opportunity for Jewish leaders to defend their traditions, feeling "anger" when they "were silent" and refused to communicate with him (3:4, 5). ¯ When Mark says that Jesus appointed 12 apostles not just to proclaim his message but "to be with him," he shows the intimate community that would help them to see deeply into one another (3:14). ¯ Many of Jesus' parables were addressed to the Jewish leaders whom he so much wanted to bring on board his movement. He carefully fashions suasive argu-ments to move these intelligent adversaries, and only after rejection by them does he conclude that they have simply closed their hearts to God's Spirit (3:23-29). ¯ When his family thinks him "out of his mind," he gives an inclusive description of who his family is, knowing that they also "do the will of God" (3:21, 35). ¯ He shows himself a careful observer of nature and of human behavior, distinguishing between ways his word goes unheeded in people. The faith of some is rootless, in some it is destroyed by others, in some it is choked out by the cares of this world (4:15-19). Review for Religious ¯ He commends those who are translucent, who let the light within them shine out clearly for all to see: "nothing is hidden but will be disclosed" (4:21-22). ¯ He intuits the concern of his listeners over the smallness and hiddenness of the kingdom in his ministry and responds with the parables of hidden growth and of the mustard seed (4:26-32). ¯ Sympathy for Jairus leads Jesus to put up with the ridicule of the crowd, and when he had cured Jairus' daughter he mentions the hunger of the girl: "give her something to eat" (5:43). This last touch must have struck Mark as typical of Jesus' thoughtfulness of oth-ers, and so merited inclusion in his Gospel. ¯ When Jesus is rejected by the people of his own hometown, he makes up a good excuse for them, rather than blaming them; "Prophets are not without honor except in their hometown" (6:4). Then he anticipates how people would feel if his apostles went house-hop-ping, looking perhaps for a nicer place to stay. He advises them to stay with whoever first welcomes them (6:10). Jesus also perceives the fatigue of the work for his apostles and invites them to "come aside and rest awhile" (6:31). Then, respecting their close feeling for him, he "goes up the mountain to pray" only "after say-ing farewell to them" (6:46). ¯ When the Jewish leaders criticize his disciples for not washing their hands before eating, Jesus doesn't dis-miss their objection lightly but defends the disciples by quoting at length Jewish. traditions (7:5-15). He can also quickly correct his response to a person when he perceives a need for self-correction, as in his change from rejecting to commending the Syrophoenician woman (7:2 7-2 9). ¯ Jesus took the deaf man with a speech impediment "away from the crowd, in private," perhaps to compen- 70.1 2011 Zupez ¯ Christ-like Empathy in those Who Govern From all who wish to enter the kingdom, Jesus demands childlike curiosity and openness to new ideas sate for the crowd's ridicule of the man, becoming close and personal with him (7:33). ¯ Though his disciples fail to see, hear, or remem-ber in spite of the powers he had demonstrated, Jesus continues to work with them patiently, conclud-ing only with the gentle rebuke "Do you not yet understand?" (8:18,21). When admonished by Peter for predicting his suffering, Jesus' response focuses not on himself but on the good of Peter, who has set his mind "not on divine things but on human things" (8:33). Instead of further chiding Peter, he calls together "the crowd with his disciples" and explains the centrality of the cross in the Christian life (8:34-38). ¯ When Jesus sees that "a crowd came running together" he expedites his cure of the possessed young man, saving him further embarrassment (9:25). ¯ Jesus says that our dealings with others should not be from a sense of superiority ("whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all") but with the warmth that we show to a very loveable child (9:35-37). Jesus crowns this with a breadth of appreciation that extends to even our "giving a cup of water to drink" for which we will receive his reward (9:41). (Since Jesus did not refer to himself as Christ or Messiah, that seems here an addition of the early church.) Jesus' love for his dis-ciples doesn't stop short of "scaring the hell out of them" lest they stray from the right path (9:42-48). He goes on Review for Religious to encourage his disciples to vigorously pursue their own gifts while respecting others' differences (9:50). ¯ From all who wish to enter the kingdom, Jesus demands childlike curiosity and openness to new ideas, traits sorely lacking in the Jewish leaders who never gave him a fair hearing (10:15). ¯ Jesus' appreciation for all the goodness in others is revealed in his love for the young man who had kept the commandments from his y~)uth (10:20-21). He further points out that God can overlook our deficiencies and make up for them (10:27); God doesn't demand more than we can give. ¯ When James and John come forward with incred-ible hubris and pushiness, Jesus gently admonishes them that "you do not know what you are asking" (10:38). He then throws the focus away from James and John to advise the twelve together that Christian leadership is gauged enti!~qly in t.~rms of humble service (10:41-44). ¯ Jesus' empathy for people's differences, everyone believing in themselves, is reflected in what is arguably the most distinctive Christian virtue, ready forgiveness of others (11:25). ¯ In the question of giving tribute to Caesar, Jesus leaves off criticizing his adversaries for their flattery and feigned praise and keeps loving, keeps saying what could awaken them to their own hypocrisy and be their salva-tion, leaving them "amazed" (12:13-17). ¯ When a woman anoints Jesus with oil worth more than a year's wages, Jesus may have been taken aback by the extravagance but instead thinks of an even more extravagant way to compliment her: her deed will always be preached as a part of the Gospel (14:5, 9). ¯ When his closest disciples fall asleep during his agony in the garden, he doesn't blame them but thinks 70.1 2011 Zupez ¯ Christ-like Empathy in those grbo Govern of an excuse for them: "The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak" (14:38). And so also throughout his Passion he shows forgiveness on all sides and attributes his fate rather to the fulfillment of Scripture (14:27, 49). Conclusion We see here an ideal to strive for even if we can never reach it. Superiors may have little wiggle room to change their decisions. But if they exercise author-ity in a spirit of open dialogue and sincere empathy, then those under them will respond more as if to Christ himself. February Snow Snow fresh fallen and still spilling subdues the trees out your windows and muffles the world. You watch it blow, all of winter in your eye. Suddenly a wingedflame pierces the scene and swoops to the feeder. Red as a tulip, it's Isaiah of the seasons prophesying the return of color to this bleached-out world. If not tomorrow, then soon. Soon. Patricia Schnapp RSM Review for Religious JAMES MENKHAUS The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Path To Virtue The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius is a clas-sic work of Christian spirituality. Ignatius created the Exercises by reflecting on the expe-rience of God working in his life. In a memo-rable excerpt from his autobiography, Ignatius recalls, "God treated him [Ignatius] at this time just as aoschoolmaster treats a child he is teach-ing.''~ Ignatius's insight reflects his belief that God not only loves God's creatures, but slowly reveals God's will to them. Just as a child grows and slowly uncovers knowledge with the help of a teacher, so do human beings, with the help of God, slowly uncover God's call. Hoping to impart his insights, Ignatius created a series of meditations and reflections to help others discern their own call from God. In the final making the spiritual exercises James Menkhaus is currently involved in h~s doctoral work in Systematic Theology at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, and teaches part-time at John Carroll Universi~ in Cleveland, Ohio. His address is 2965 Hampshire Road; University Heights, Oh{o 44118. 70.1 2011 Menkbaus * The Spiritual Exercises of St. IKnatius years of his life, Ignatius crystallized his reflections by finalizing the Spiritual Exercises. While it is true that the Spiritual Exercises can help an individual discern God's call, another potential ben-efit from undergoing the retreat experience can be described by using the language of virtue ethics. Virtue ethics is an approach in normative ethics that emphasizes the moral significance of an agent's character. Instead of focusing on the question "what action should I take?" virtue ethics asks people to reflect on "what sort of per-son should I be?''2 This reflection, which then leads to action, is exemplified in the Ignatian retreat process. In this essay I will apply the language of virtue ethics to the experience of undergoing the Spiritual Exercises, examining the roles of narrative, friendship, presence, and renewed friendship. Using virtue ethics to describe the transformative effect of the Spiritual Exercises dem-onstrates that the experience is not only a tool for the discernment of God's will, but a method for the devel-opment of character. Narrative Foundation in Week One In the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises, using the exercitant's narrative as a starting point lays the founda-tion for the subsequent weeks. Ignatius instructs, "The First Point is the court-record of my sins. I will call to memory all the sins of my life, looking at them year by year or period by period.''3 Ignatius hopes the exerci-rant will take the time to reflect on how sinful a person can be and, in reflecting on one's past narrative, will acknowledge those times of turning away from God's offer of love. Exercitants are often offered the cl~ance for confession during this time as they uncover aspects of their narrative that they have either forgotten or tried to Review for Relig4ous deny to themselves. Ignadus' own experiences of sin and the way one can become ensnared by sinfulness, influ-enced his decision to give the chance to consider one's sins and bring them before God. The reflection on sin could be damaging if Ignatius did not ask the exercitant to concurrently recall God's forgiveness. Another meditation [23] is titled "The Principle and Foundation." The foun-dational principle for Ignatius is that God loves creation and never with-draws the offer of love. Ignatius hopes that during the First Week the exerci-tant will be able to balance these two concepts--the Creator's unlimited offer of love and one's own sinfulness. Both are important. Without God's love, the focus on one's sins could lead the exercitant to a sense of despair. Awareness of one's own sinfulness, however, is also key because God's love is a gift, not something earned. Because the Exercises rely so heavily on narrative, nar-rative is an important concept to unpack. Some virtue ethicists, such as Nancey Murphy and Stanley Hauerwas use narrative as a starting point for ethical reflection. "The acquired characteristics needed for participation in practices," writes Murphy, "are merely candidates for vir-tue until we see how they contribute to the whole human life from birth to death."4 To consider virtues divorced from the living experiences of human beings deprives them of life. The narrative, or human experience, gives an arena for virtue to be explored, developed, and fos- Without God's love, the focus on one's sins could lead the exercitant to a sense of despair. 70.1 2011 Menkbaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius tered. It is through human experience and development that virtues are acquired. Therefore, any discussion of virtue must begin by looking at narrative. In A Community of Character, Hauerwas relates a story from his own narrative about the time and effort his father put into making a gun for him as a gift. Instead of responding with love and thankfulness for the gift, Hauerwas replied that guns would one day be taken away from "you people." The love of the father in the formation of the gift was rejected by the son who thought it was more important to prove a point about social policy. The son sought to form his own narra-tive by rejecting his father's world, his father's narrative. Hauerwas reflects, "But in fact what I did was deeply dishonest, as it revealed a lack of self, the absence of a sustaining narrative sufficient to bind my past with my future.''5 Forming one's own narrative is about respect-ing the tradition that comes before, while taking the responsibility of creating the future. Hauerwas's personal example fits very well with the First Week of the Exercises. The relationship of children and parents often involves struggle, and the revelation that love was not returned from child to parent, or par-ent to child, is a common difficulty. Someone facing a narrative like Hauerwas's would likely be drawn to focus on the guilt of rejecting the offer of love from father to son. Such guilt, if carried through life without being faced and worked through, could have damaging effects on a person's identity. More often than one might think, these feelings are buried deep within, and only through taking time in prayer and reflection can one realize that they have played a formative role in one's development. Once one uncovers these feelings, the guide would likely suggest a meditation or prayer that focuses on Revie~v for Religious forgiveness--for example, the story of the prodigal son (Lk 15:11-32). In this parable Jesus tells of a son who squandered all that the father had given him. When the son was at his lowest point, he thought the father might take him on as hired hand. Indeed, as the son returned to the father, "While he was still a long way off, his father caught . sight of him, and was filled with compas-sion. He ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him" (Lk 15:20). It is often pointed out that the father saw him from a long way off, indi-cating that he had been watching for his son, hoping that he would return. This parable encapsulates the duality of the First Week because it involves the sinful son, or human being, and the loving and forgiving father, or God. Again, it is nar-rative that communicates the key elements. In this case, narrative in the form of story symbolizes God's love for and willingness to forgive humanity. The First Week experience is impossible without one's reflection on one's own narrative and experience. Because of the individuality and uniqueness of each exercitant's experience, it is the personal narrative that sets the stage for the rest of the retreat. The subsequent Weeks are also heavily dependent upon narrative, but in a different context. The Weeks that follow advance through the narrative of Jesus' life as the exercitant is asked to enter into that life at different stages of Christ's mission. It is through entering into Christ's narrative The First Week experience is impossible without one ,s reflection on one's own narrative and experience. 29 70.1 2011 Menkhaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius that the virtues of friendship and presence can be devel-oped in the exercitant. Narrative is, in many ways, foun-dational to the Spiritual Exercises. Developing Friendship in Week Two Once exercitants come to terms with their own sin-fulness in the light of God's offer of love, at least to some extent, the retreat moves to Week Two. During the Second Week, the focus shifts to meditations on the life of Christ up to the passion. Exercitants read passages from the Bible and place themselves into the scenes. Ignatius hoped that the experience of allowing the Spirit to move the narrative forward would help communicate God's will to the individual. For example, an exercitant who continually feels drawn to healing others during these meditations might consider if God is calling to some sort of healing vocation or work in medicine. The exercitant who is constantly drawn to Christ the teacher might reflect more deeply if there is a call to a profes-sion in education. No matter what vocation one is called to, however, the experience of being with Christ during this time will likely lead to a cultivation of the virtue of friendship. Through the narrative reflection on Christ's life, friendship is both developed with Christ and learned as a virtue to cultivate in other relationships. Ignatius describes the grace to be prayed for in the Second Week: "Here it will be to ask for an interior knowledge of our Lord, who became human for me, that I may love him more intensely and follow him more closely.''6 In order to foster this interior knowledge and love, Ignatius begins the gospel contemplations with scenes from the nativity. The desire to follow Christ should begin at the start of his humanity. Ronald Modras elaborates the method: "Ignatius asks retreatants to con- Review for Religious template ("look at") the birth of Christ, using all their senses. One is to imagine the road, feel the wind, listen in on the conversation between Mary and Joseph, gaze at the newborn infant--all activities intended to arouse the affections.''7 The use of all the senses during the meditation can lead the exercitant to be truly moved by the experience. It is during the early stages of Week Two that the virtue of friendship begins to be explored in the narrative formed between the exercitant and Christ. Hauerwas and Charles Pinches in Christians among the Virtues provide key insights about friendship as a virtue. They write, "We learn virtue, which is necessary for happiness, not alone but in communities of friends.''8 No one would ever desire to live without friends, and these friendships help form communities. Later they explain, agreeing with Aristotle, "It is like watching ourselves, only bet-ter, for we see the activity that is ours--both the friends' and our own--all the more clearly.''9 Those people we surround ourselves with are those whose actions mirror our own. Likewise, when our friends do virtuous acts, it encourages us to behave similarly. Friendship is valuable for helping people learn virtue. Hauerwas and Pinches also state that true friendship is not simply an unachievable ideal. "Rather, friend-ship itself is an activity by which we acquire the kind of steadfastness necessary for our being true friends. True friendship is . . . a growing relation which, as it ¯ increases, makes possible our becoming virtuous in a manner that transforms ourselves and our friendship."1° A good friendship helps a. person learn what it means to be a good friend because, friendship grows through shared experience. Transformation and change are nec-essary because friendship never remains static. Friends 31 70.1 2011 Menkbaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius One does not become a follower of Christ without effort and prayer and an honest attempt to follow him. learn virtue together as both realize what it means to have a good friendship. It is certainly possible to have a bad or dishonest friendship, but the insights we are offering on growth of virtue in friendship assume that both friends are trying in good faith to respect and love each other. The insights of Hauerwas and Pinches on friendship help unpack how the Second Week can lead to a deepen-ing desire to follow Christ. Learning through these medi-ations to love and follow Christ and to become friends with the human Jesus should lead us to behave more like our new friend. As we see Christ do miracles of heal-ing, accepting the outcast, and giving life to the hope-less, we are inspired, as his friends, to do the same. As Hauerwas . and Pinches pointed out, the virtuous actions of our friends inspire us to behave accordingly. The insight that friendship is developed through a process of transformation is impor-tant as well. One does not become a follower of Christ without effort and prayer and an honest attempt to fol-low him. An exercitant might be asked to contemplate the story of the paralytic (Lk 5:17-26), which highlights the virtue of friendship from a variety of angles. The primary focus of this story is that Jesus tells a man to get up and walk and that his sins are forgiven. The Pharisees are enraged that Jesus thinks he can tell a man Review for Religio~ts his sins are forgiven because, for them, God alone could forgive sins. However, a subplot to the story involves the friendship of the men who brought the paralytic to Jesus: "But not finding a way to bring him. in because of the crowd, they went up on the roof and lowered him on the stretcher through the tiles into the middle in front of Jesus"(5:19). Because the group thought that Jesus might be able to help their friend, they did every-thing they could to get him to Jesus. When their first attempt failed, they turned to extraordinary means to accomplish their' goal--going so far as to lower their friend through the root~ The first example of friendship is the desire of the friends to get the paralytic to Jesus, even when their first attempt failed. The friends were willing to take extraor-dinary measures to help someone they loved. The second example is Jesus' willingness to heal the paralytic. Jesus' action invites the exercitant to imitate that healing by healing others. The exercitant could contemplate that as Jesus heals those he cares for, in what way can he/she heal others? As the exercitant becomes friends with Jesus, Jesus' actions should be mirrored in the exercitant. The virtuous actions of one's friends should encourage a rep-lication of those actions beyond the retreat experience. Another vital aspect of the Second Week, the elec-tion, occurs as the Week comes to a close, when the exercitant has come to be Christ's friend and must decide to follow him. It would be rar~ for a non-Christian to undergo the Exercises, so Ignatius did not see this as a matter of full conversion from one religion to another. Indeed, many people, during the time of the election, reaffirm what they held before they began the retreat. However, for some, the experience of coming to know Christ could lead to a different sort of election, perhaps 70.1 2011 Menkbaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius 34 the desire to enter religious life or to change one's life-style to include more time for prayer, works of mercy, or being with one's loved ones. It is important to consider the election in light of virtue because the friendship that has begun to grow reaches its first point of verification. If it is not a true friendship, the exercitant will not choose to follow Christ. A much greater challenge awaits in the Third Week, but for now the exercitant must decide if the meditations from infancy throughout the life of Christ have cultivated a sense of love and a knowledge of the human Jesus. Jesuit Howard Gray reflects, "The elec-tion that comes at the climax of the Second Week is then less a decision than a surrender to the specific and intimate ways the Spirit of Christ leads me through my humanity to union with his humanity.''11 This union that Gray describes is one aspect of a friendship. Friends come together to form a union of care and respect for each other, a union in which each challenges and sup-ports the other. This support is put to the test through the suffering of Christ during the Third Week. Suffering Presence in Week Three The meditations of the Third Week begin with Christ's sending of two disciples from Bethany to Jerusalem to prepare for the last supper; they conclude with the death of Jesus. While feelings of sadness are often associated with the exercitant's experience, the third week is not a recapitulation of the First Week's turmoil. The desolation experienced in reflecting on the sufferings of Christ is different from the desolation caused by reflecting on one's own sins. The Exercises are developmental; the experiences of the weeks build upon each other. Michael Ivens, a scholar of the Review for Religious Spiritual Exercises, explains, "Thus the exercitant comes to pray the Passion in the Third Week having in the First Week contemplated the cross as a sign of both sin and mercy.''~2 A consideration of the virtues in the Exercises reveals a similar pattern because the virtues are also developmental. The friendship developed in Week Two will now be put to the test and, if successful, strengthened through the exercitant's presence with the suffering Christ. Ignatius writes that the grace of the Third Week to pray for is "heartfelt sorrow and confusion, because the Lord is going to his Passion for my sins.''13 Ignatius instructs the exercitant to become aware of the betrayal, brutality, and abandonment that Christ undergoes and, during meditations on these, to pray for the grace to suffer with Christ during his ordeal--the betrayal when Judas handed Christ over to be arrested, the brutality Christ underwent through the beatings and the cruci-fixion, and the abandonment he felt when his disciples fled and even Peter denied that he knew Christ. These three related elements, betrayal, brutality, and abandon-ment, all exemplify the experiences of Christ during the passion and are a powerful reminder for the exercitant of all that Christ underwent for humanity. In Week Two the exercitant was instructed simply to enter the scene, but Week Three calls for prayer to experience Christ's suffering. This does not mean the exercitant should seek pain for trivial purposes, such as purposely making daily life harder and deceiving oneself into thinking it is for Christ. Rather, it means being willing to put Christ first. One should be willing to leave behind whatever keeps one from putting Christ first. Jesuit Peter Fennessy explains, "The reality of the situation is that compassion is a deep love of Christ that 70.1 2011 Menkhaus * The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius 36 unites us [to Christ] in his suffering and in doing so brings us to renounce our own selves.''14 It is certainly possible that God could call one to physical suffering, such as serving the poor in a dangerous location or put-ting one's life at risk. However, this is not the case for all exercitants. For most, the suffering that Ignatius chal-lenges them to undergo is to detach themselves from attachments that disorder their lives. On choosing which disorder to remove, Fennessy states, "We will not choose too much below our ability, since that would be insin-cere; nor too much beyond our ability since that would invite, even intend, failure.''s However, the exercitant must be willing to die to any inordinate desires that pre-vent union with Christ. This detachment, in many cases, will involve an aspect of suffering. Another way of understanding the grace of the Third Week is through the virtue of presence. Hauerwas's Suffering Presence offers insights about what it means to be present to another's suffering and how this presence can have an impact. He again uses narrative to describe a time when he was a suffering presence to his friend Bob. Hauerwas and Bob spent a lot of time together as they grew up and were very close friends. One morning he went to see Bob and found him weeping uncontrol-lably. Bob's mother had committed suicide earlier that morning. He embraced Bob, and they spent the rest of the day together. He describes that time: "We never talked about his mother or what had happened. We did what we always did. We talked girls, football, cars, mov-ies, and anything else that was inconsequential enough to distract our attention from this horrible event . All I could do was be present.''16 The transformation of character that occurs by undergoing the Third Week of the Exercises is the cre- Review for Religious ation of a person who understands what it means to be present to the suffering, dying, and abandoned people in society. Just as exercitants learn to be present with the befriended Christ, so should they be transformed into a greater capacity of being present with their friends. However, this presence should be extended to others, beyond their friends, just as Christ taught. The seeds planted in Week Two, when one meditates on how Christ ate with sinners and tax collectors and approached those in society that were considered out-casts, continue to grow in Week Three. Often those who suffer the most in society are not those who are friends with the exercitant, but those who have no friends at all. The poor and oppressed are the ones that Christ ministered to and who are often the examples of suffering in society. These are the people who need the presence that Hauerwas (and Christ) describe. Joy and New Friendship in Week Four If the Gospel ended with Christ's death, the Christian faith would be empty. Similarly, if the Exercises ended with Week Three, there would be no hope to move the exercitant beyond the suffering of Christ. However, the resurrection accounts in the Gospel and Week Four of the Exercises provide hope. Ignatius writes, "Consider how the divinity, which hid itself during the Passion, now appears and manifests itself so miraculously in this holy Resurrection, through its true and most holy effects.''17 The Fourth Week meditations revolve around how the divinity manifests itself during the appearance narratives in the Gospel, and these narratives lead to a glimpse of understanding what it means to act as the divine. Appearance stories that the exercitant can be asked to reflect upon are those of the disciples on the road to 70.1 2011 Menkhaus * The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Emmaus (Lk 24:13-35) and of Jesus on the shore (Jn 21:1-14). In each case, Jesus appears to the disciples who were lost and afraid and who feared that their hope in Jesus had been misplaced. When he appears to his friends on the road to Emmaus, even though they did not recognize him at first, he walked with them. He then broke bread with them and opened the scriptures. Reflecting after he disappeared from their sight, the dis-ciples asked each other, "Were not our hearts burning within us when he spoke to us on the way and opened the scriptures to us?" (Lk 24:32). In John's account, Jesus also takes time to eat with the disciples as they share a meal on the shore. In both accounts, Jesus appears to console his suffering friends, offering his own example of being a suffering presence. These appearances lead to a new friendship between the disciples and the risen Lord, just as the Fourth Week meditations lead to a new friendship between the exercitant and Christ. The same kind of new friendship emerged after Hauerwas spent time with Bob. Once one has been there for the other in a time of extreme trial, the friendship is never the same. In some cases it may be awkward or dif-ficult, but it is never unchanged. For Christ and the disci-ples, however, the friendship was not awkward, but led the disciples to be willing to give their lives to spread Christ's message. Jesus instructs them to "Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:16). It is because of their belief in Christ, developed by their friend-ship with him and tested through his passion, that the dis-ciples take up this task of proclamation. What is hoped for is that the exercitant, while medi-tating on the resurrection at the end of the retreat, will experience joy. Gray explain~ that joy for Ignatius is not simply being happy, but is a "participation in the joy Review for Religious of the risen Christ. Ignatian joy is the psycho-religious energy that desires to bring others happiness, harmony of heart, insight, peace, reconciliation . -18 This joy drives the exercitant to want to be joy in the lives of others after the retreat. It is the joy experienced by the disciples when they realized that Christ had risen and their hopes had not been misplaced. Servais Pinckaers describes joy from the perspec-tive of virtue ethics in Morality: The Catholic View. He writes, "Joy is lasting, like the excellence, the virtues, that engender it. Joy is communicable; it grows by being shared and repays sacrifices freely embraced . Joy belongs to the purity and generosity of love.''19 For Pinckaers, joy helps order pleasure so pleasure does not take control of one's life. Joy lies in the inner depths of our being and is experienced when we align ourselves with the love of God. Joy cannot be separated from truth and the struggle towards the good. Pinckaers believes that joy unites the virtues which are "like the arteries that carry strength and disperse joy through the entire organism of the moral life.''z° Pinckaers's view of joy as a culmination of the virtues connects well with Gray's assertion that the experience of Ignatian joy is the culmination of the Spiritual Exercises. Living the Virtues in the World The new friendship between Christ and the exerci-tant is formed by the transformation of being a suffer-ing presence. But the fruit from the retreat must keep growing after the retreat. The exercitant's friendship with the risen Christ should one move to action. Just as virtue ethics begins with the agent but leads to action, so should the Spiritual Exercises. The movement into the world, of the ideals enshrined in the virtues is one way 70.1 2011 Menkbaus ¯ The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius A virtue ethics pei'spective of the Exercises calls one to apply these virtues in the future. 4O to counteract claims that the Exercises are an individual experience. Without the drive to live out these newly acquired virtues and change the world, transformation is never complete. Just as Ignatius would have said the exercitant should apply what is learned about God's will for the individual, a virtue ethics perspective of the Exercises calls one to apply these virtues in the future. Another way to describe the experience of undergoing the Exercises is as moral formation or moral development that pushes one to action. Pinckaers describes this forma-tion as "the interior revolution that the grace of Christ works within us. It teaches us to employ institutions and exercise authority in a spirit of service . . . imitating the service of Christ.''2' Moral formation can develop or . -- refine the virtues of friendship or pres-ence, and once these begin to grow, they are seen to imply a call to action, an emulation of Christ. They make one sen- - -' sitive to those who have no friends and need friendship or those who have no comforter and need presence. Pinckaers describes this movement, writing, "Just as we appreciate health bet-ter when we are sick, so too we become sensitive to our inclinafon to the good when we are confronted with evil and suffering.''22 In this way, the Exercises help form a more moral individual who is called to action. The kinds of action that an exercitant should engage in are, simply put, virtuous actions. By emulating the actions that Christ carried out both before his death and during the appearance narratives, one can become Review for Religious a more virtuous person. Albert Nolan, in Jesus Before Christianity, challenges Christians to look to Christ to see how God wants human beings to act: We have seen what Jesus is like. If we now wish to treat him as our God, we would have to conclude that our God does not want to be served by us, but wants to serve us; God does not want to be given the highest possible rank in society, but wants to take the lowest place and to be without any rank and sta-tus; God does not want to be feared and obeyed, but wants to be recognized in the sufferings of the poor and the weak.23 Nolan challenges followers of Christ to reflect on who Jesus was during his lifetime. Those who have undergone the Spiritual Exercises have encountered Christ through meditation and contemplation. The encountered Christ has likely been one who fits Nolan's description. A Jesus who wants to serve, who takes the lowest place in society, and who wants to be recognized in the sufferings of the poor is the Jesus who has been encoun-tered in prayer. If Nolan is correct, Jesus has given humanity a glimpse into how God wants creatures to live, and the Spiritual Exercises help us come to this awareness as we move through the retreat. The Spiritual Exercises are a tool for the discern-ment of God's will, but the retreat is also an experience that can form a more virtuous person. By examining one's narrative during the First Week, areas of sinful-ness and growth can be discerned in light of God's love. The Second Week helps the exercitant know what it means to be a friend and to learn from Christ how to emulate his actions. The Third Week tests the virtue of presence, challenging people to be present to those in need, especially those who have no one else. Finally, 41 70.1 2011 Menkbaus * The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius the Fourth Week teaches the joy associated with the resurrection and a new friendship tested by suffering. The exercitant who takes to heart the experience of the Spiritual Exercises should leave the retreat a more virtu-ous person, seeking to emulate the actions of Christ in a world broken by sin and needing redemption. Notes ' Ignatius of Loyola, "The Autobiography," in Ignatius of Loyola: The Spiritual Exercises and Selected Works, ed. George E. Ganss SJ (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), p. 79. z Rosalind Hursthouse, On Virtue Ethics (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001), p. 17. 3 Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises [56]. 4 Nancey Murphy, "Using MacIntyre's Method in Christian Ethics," in Virtue and Practices in the Christian Tradition, ed. Nancey Murphy, Brad J. Kallenberg, and Mark Thiessen Nation (Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 2003), p. 41. ~ Hauerwas, A Community of Character, p. 146. 6 Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises [104]. 7 Ronald Modras, Ignatian Humanism (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2004), p. 47. 8 Stanley Hauerwas and Charles Pinches, Christians among the Virtues (Notre Dame: University of Norte Dame Press, 1997), p. 33. 9 Hauerwas and Pinches, Christians among the Virtues, p. 33. 10 Hauerwas and Pinches, Christians among the Virtues, p. 38. 11 Howard Gray SJ, "Joy and Friendship in the Fourth Week," The Way Supplement: Resurrection and Beyon& The Fourth Week 99 (2000): p. 18. ~2 Michael Ivens SJ, Understanding the Spiritual Exercises (Trowbridge: Cromwell Press, 1998), p. 147. '3 Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises [I 93]. 14 Peter Fennessy SJ, "Praying the Passion: The Dynamics of Dying with Christ," A New Introduction to the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, ed. John E. Dister SJ (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 77. is Fennessy, "Praying the Passion," p. 83. 16 Stanley Hauerwas, Suffering Presence (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1986), p. 64. Review for Religious 17 Ignatius, Spiritual Exercises [223]. is Gray, "Joy and Friendship," p. 20. ,9 Servais Pinckaers OP, Morality: The Catholic View (South Bend, Indiana: St. Augustine's Press, 2001), p. 78. 20 Pinckaers, Morality: The Catholic View, p. 80. 2, Pinckaers, Morality: The Catholic View, p. 94. 22 Pinckaers, Morality: The Catholic View, 102. 23 Albert Nolan, Jesus Before Christianity (New York: Orbis Books, 1976), p. 167. Tremblement de Terre (Earthquake) Sun, wind blizzards, Raging waters, cyclones Have pommelled Me and my house, Struck sideways as if it were __ at eye-level. But on the day The Earth beneath my feet Failed me Nor I nor anyone could save me, Only God __ That day guaran teed When my time comes I shall recognize The approach of death When things fall apart. Mary Alban CSJ 43 70.1 2011 MYREE HARRIS Reflecting on Readiness To Make the Spiritual Exercises 44 The concept of readiness for developmental change is an idea that has interested me for many years. From 1981 to 1989 I worked in Staff and Executive Development at the Catholic Education Office, Sydney. Back then, the Sydney Archdiocese and the Catholic Education Office covered the whole of Sydney, with a population of around four million. Our team designed and ran a diverse range of adult education courses for school leaders, with an emphasis on management skills and small group participation. We were also called in to do long-term organizational development in schools. Each program began with a full day collaborative prob-lem identification process followed by facilitation of an elected staff group to work on the action plan. We met with these groups weekly for a period of years. Readiness for Developmental Change In the course of these activities, we encountered individuals and school groups who were not ready for Myree Harris RSJ may be addressed at Gethsemane Community; 3 Oxford Street; Petersham NSW, 2049; Australia. Revie~ for Religious such a process. We started to read literature on the topic1 and to draw up our own criteria for readiness or unreadiness for participation in the process. In the case of those who arrived late for sessions or who lacked motivation, interest, or willingness to participate, there was often one obvious reason. They did not want to be there. They had been sent by a school principal who thought it might do them good or "fix them up." We contacted principals and asked them not to send unwill-ing participants, as it spoiled the experience for those who were motivated. Anytime we identified disgrunded participants, we offered them the opportunity to have the day off, assuring them that we would not report them to the school authorities. Readiness for Organizational Change In the case of schools that asked us to come in and work with them, we asked a few questions. First, whose idea was it to call us in? If it were just the principal's bright idea, the process would go nowhere. Second, was the school going through a lot of growth or change at that time, or, conversely, was it dying? Neither state would foster developmental change. The first step in the problem identification process was an anonymous strengths/weaknesses survey. Any downright nastiness or personal attacks in the survey were an alarm signal. We would report back on the survey to the staff, stating we would not allow personal attacks made on leaders who had no chance to respond. We undertook to carry out the day's problem-identification process, but warned that, in some cases, it might be counterproductive to go further. In one school, as the survey results were being shown, I noticed the staff reading, crocheting, doing crossword puzzles, yawning, and generally looking unin- 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises terested. I alerted my colleague, who was also finding in the survey results an abdication of responsibility for discipline on the part of the staff and a blaming of the senior executive. We reflected back our perception of their lack of interest and closed the proceedings. Readiness for the Spiritual Exercises: Twentiethth Annotation In 2003, I was at a retreat center in Canada, participat-ing in Internship training to direct the Spiritual Exercises. One of our tasks was to do a major study or project. I decided to follow up on my long interest in readi-ness. 46 Methodology: A. Indicators of Readiness A set of twelve questions (see Appendix) was devel-oped and given to staff members with the request that they agree to a thirty- to sixty-minute audio taped inter-view. Interviews were carried out and the tapes tran-scribed under the question headings. The responses showed some consensus about indica-tors of readiness. These have been grouped under gen-eral headings: 1. Personal qualities: ¯ a moderately strong sense of self and ego strength ¯ a basic personal stability and mental/emotional health ¯ a lot of basic healing already done ¯ not too tired ¯ able to reflect on and to articulate inner experience ¯ a capacity to be in silence and solitude Review for Religious 2. Desire: ¯ openness and willingness and generosity ¯ a sense of quiet that can be developed and a contemplative attitude ¯ a habit of prayer with a desire to go deeper ¯ a degree of spiritual freedom ¯ a desire to experience the Exercises ¯ a ministerial goal 3. ~ln adequate theological base: ¯ grounding in the Faith ¯ belief in the divinity and humanity of Christ ¯ an image of a loving God ¯ the ability to ask for a grace 4. Experience and skills: ¯ experience of at least one eight-day, silent, individually directed retreat using Ignatian methodology ¯ experience of ongoing spiritual direction ¯ experience in using imagination in prayer, in reflecting on the experience of prayer, and the capacity to articulate that experience to a director ¯ capacity to pray for forty-five to sixty minutes at a time B. Indicators of Lack of Readiness 1. Personal qualities: ¯ major psychological issues ¯ insufficient ego strength to tolerate desolation ¯ major issues that need healing ¯ blockage by overwhelming effects from trauma ¯ wrong timing ¯ inability to tolerate silence and solitude 2. Lack of desire: ¯ lack of a desire to be open to God 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises 48 ¯ sent by a bishop or major superior ¯ coming as part of a group with no personal decision to make the Exercises ¯ coming as part of a sabbatical, but mainly wanting a rest or a nice prayer time ¯ no outward apostolic focus 3. Inappropriate or unhelpful theological base: ¯ an image of God as distant, disinterested, and punitive ¯ lack of a belief in the divinity of Christ ¯ problems with the church that cannot be dealt with 4. Lack of experience and skills: ¯ no capacity to pray for any length of time or to articulate experience ¯ no experience of an eight-day directed retreat ¯ no experience of using the Ignatian "tools" such as the use of imagination in prayer or repetition ¯ no awareness of interior movements, of how to do a review of prayer, or of how to articulate the experience of prayer Eliciting Our Better Practices 1. How effective are the disposition days in assisting readi-ness? (The Preparation days involve directed prayer on themes such as one's faith history. They also introduce Ignatian "tools" such as gospel contemplation, review of prayer, repetition, use of the examen.) (Each bullet point indicates an individual response.) ¯ In general, they provide enough time for a person to be ready to begin the Exercises. Segments on graced and unredeemed history lay the ground for the First Week. Seeds are sown. If a person "bites" in this early material, it is a good indicator that the individual will "bite" all the way Review for Religious through. It helps the director get a sense of who the per-son is, what is really drawing the retreatant. It helps people get in touch with their own history. They may come to see where the blockages are, the need for healing. Sometimes people get in touch with that material and find out there is a lot more stuff than they had realized. If the director does a lot of faithful listening, the desire surfaces. ¯ Coming to the end of the disposition days, the question is "Where is the focus? Is the person ready for the First Week?" ¯ What you are testing for in the disposition days is willingness versus willfulness. A skilled director can spot the generosity and can fan those flames, can keep the person in that gener-osity. ¯ You don't pre-pare people for the Exercises, God does. God gives the desire. ¯ A Very, very poor self image might indicate it could be harmful to go into the Exercises. Some directors will hold a person back for a few days. Some will go forward because they know it is not going to hurt the person. If it will be hurtful, you don't go forward. If I'm not quite sure, I would give the Exercises the benefit of the doubt. 2. What is the place of the Exercises in healing mode? (The healing mode refers to an adaptation to assist people who are dealing with the effects of trauma or deep hurt.) Ignatius does not have any healing texts in his selection of gospel contemplations. In fact, he does not seem interested in healing, but rather in evangelical What you are testing for in the disposition days is willingness versus willfulness. 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises witness. However, often people present or come to the Exercises for healing. ¯ If healing is an issue, no amount of time may be sufficient. There may be sexual abuse or some very painful experience. The initial focus needs to be on the love of God. ¯ Healing mode may start with the graced his-tory and move all the way through the Exercises. Even though it is not in the literature, I would maintain that this approach still gives an experience of the Exercises. The graces received are roughly the same. You are just coming to the experience in a very different way.I don't know how universal an acceptance this would have. ¯ In healing mode, the First Week has the emphasis on having been sinned against, rather than sinning. The Second Week becomes growing up with Jesus, or the Inner Child healing of memories with Jesus, as Jesus grows up. It doesn't take away from the content but just shifts it so that healing can take place. It is still a matter of getting to know Jesus. The Exercises are more directed towards the person than towards discipleship, because sometimes it is too soon to focus on disciple-ship. Sometimes the two things can go on together, and sometimes the biggest emphasis is on healing. The meditations of the Second Week are geared to deci-sion- making. They don't fit here, but as soon as I hear the content of decision-making being spoken, I move to that, giving the meditations or appropriate scripture. 3. What if the person were still "flooded" by recent or past trauma? (In such cases, the person may not be able to focus on any other issue.) ¯ One avenue is to take the person out of the Exercises and work around the traumas, moving into the healing mode. Perhaps go through all the Weeks in Review for Religious this mode. The trauma becomes the focus of the graces of the Weeks. Usually, those who are flooded by trauma are reacting to more than the recent trauma. The recent event has just dragged up all kinds of other traumas in the person's history. The First Week exercises for healing (in the healing mode) could be very helpful for such a person. Rather than a block to the Exercises, the trauma could be the source of a major grace. ¯ It may indicate they should not go on with the Exercises but deal with the issue, and the thirty-day process may not be the place for that. What I would listen for is whether the hurt is purely psychological or if it can be brought to prayer. Tremendous healing can take place through the Exercises. ¯ I directed a person over five consecutive years for eight-day retreats, and it was all healing. I wouldn't allow her to make the Exercises. When she did eventu-ally make them, from day one the orientation was apos-tolic. ¯ This kind of situation is coming up more and more. ¯ Hopefully you can make referrals for when they go home. The grace of the retreat may be to realize how deeply they need psychological assistance. ¯ The director has to make a judgment as to whether the person is stable enough to stay and if there is enough psychic strength to take the next step. Then the director has to ask, "Am I the best director for this person?" It's up to the director to get as much help as possible from the team in terms of the healing of memories prayer, Inner Child work, continuing to walk with the person, following God's lead, and doing what is necessary. Then, the question is whether the retreatant is willing and able to do this. The team has to find a 51 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises A person could pray for thirty days, without actually doing the Exercises: Y2 way to ensure that the person is with a director who can work with this issue. 4. What ira person were not yet ready for the Exercises? ¯ When one person came, we already felt she might not be ready and that she was not staying for the appropriate days. Disposition days were fine. After that, the material used was fairly typi-cal, but we didn't pretend it was the Exercises. I just fol-lowed where she was. I used some Exercises material, went into the life of Christ, and just went wherever I felt the Lord was calling her. ¯ A person could pray for thirty days, without actu-ally doing the Exercises. There would be enough healing and growth that it would be very helpful. ¯ Most people who get through the screening pro-cess would be candidates for praying through the prayer pattern of the Exercises, whether or not they are capable of making the full Exercises from the decision-making mode. Y. What if there is resistance to the process of the Exercises? (For example, there may be reluctance or refusal to try different forms of prayer or particular themes, to main-tain timed prayer periods, or to do a review.) ¯ With someone who hates process, I would tackle it head on: "Are you willing to go along with it, for now?" The same for someone who hates structured prayer periods: "The Exercises are structured. Face the resistance." "It's not forever; it's just for now. Take it to Review for Religious the Lord." The key is intentionality. Are they willing to make the Exercises as they are? ¯ For the retreatant it can raise the issue "How do I respond in the face of something that doesn't fit me perfectly or that I might not like?" Then it becomes retreat material. Once knowledge of the reluctance comes to awareness, God works in it. It can burrow away underneath until it comes to consciousness. Once it's out, God deals with it. ¯ If you have a resistance in which the person wants something to happen in the Exercises that isn't happening and the person resists the pattern of the Exercises, then you have to bring that out clearly and say "What do you suggest you do next?" You could also lay out your options, saying "I don't think, given the way this pattern is devel-oping, that I am the right person to be directing you, or that this is the right place." It's not just their choice, it is also your choice. ¯ Using the imagination can provoke resistance, or it may mean the person is praying in another mode. If there is resisting, I let it continue until the person says "This isn't working, and I have to do something differ-ent." So I say, "Well, what would you like to do?" ¯ There is a huge scope about how to pray that is permissible in the Exercises. The director needs to be flexible and to understand that, for Ignatius, it isn't the Exercises as such, but it is encountering God that is important. That's why the questions are "Where's the consolation? Where's the desolation?" If there is reluc-tance to talk about one's inner life at that level, that's one issue. If there is a whole different sign language, making it difficult to draw out what is happening in prayer, that's a problem of communication, not resis-tance. If you can enter into that sign language, then the 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises Sometimes the grace can be given, but not opened for years. process works. If you can't, it's fairly clear there isn't a path of communication and you can't direct. ¯ For me, a good way to handle resistance, if it is in the long retreat, is to let it develop to the point where retreatants have to deal with it, rather than trying to force them to do what they don't want to do. All you can do is just be with a person as the resis-tance develops. It is important for the director to be comfortable with this and not try to truncate the pro-cess, because God is using that situation in some way. That can be hard on the director. That's why you need a team and supervi-sion. You need to be enabled just to allow the resistance to develop. ¯ Someone says that she is uncomfortable with Ignatian spirituality, that her background is Franciscan. It's true that your background affects you, but it doesn't determine you. The Exercises are Ignatian. There are huge Franciscan elements in Ignatian spirituality: the sense of witness, the sense of joy, the sense of poverty. If generosity is there, the Exercises will work. ¯ Coming to an Ignatian retreat and then resisting the process because you prefer a different spirituality is like going to a Chinese restaurant and ordering steak. 6. Is it better for a person to experience the Exercises, even in a limited way, than not to experience them at all? ¯ Sometimes the grace can be given, but not opened for years. ¯ If a person has not been able to enter into the Review for Religious experience and is not able to absorb it, the whole thing could be destructive. ¯ It depends on the person. A person may have an opportunity now to do a thirty-day retreat but may not have that opportunity later, when she is really ready to do the Exercises. ¯ It can be better for a person to make a 30-day retreat, as contrasted to the Exercises, than not to. One person came to the retreat to make a decision but was unable to do so. At the end she realized she needed to have psychological counseling. ¯ To a person who experienced the Exercises in the healing mode, it could be suggested that at some later time in life it might be worth doing them again from a new perspective and that it could be a different experience. ¯ Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all? 7. Are the current application and referee forms effective in screening out people who are not ready for the Exercises? ¯ People lie on the application forms or leave things out. Some people do better in writing their stories; oth-ers can be more open in answering the questions. The question may be whether or not the story is complete. It's what's not there that we can do nothing about. It may not be deliberate. It may be an oversight that becomes critical and makes a huge difference that may not be realized by the person. ¯ I have found that people use codes. One code is that if you think the applicant is a problem, at the end of the reference you put "And if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call me.' ¯ If we get any indication at all that the person is being sent, that's when the referees would be called to check it out. 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises ¯ The way they write the letter is important. What we are looking for is humility, not pride. Applicants may not talk about their lives at all. It may be more like a job application. In the letter, there may be no sense of where a person is, no sense of history. On the other hand, some people are very honest. 8. What could be done to improve the screening process? ¯ You could provide a description of the Spiritual Exercises, showing the challenges to a person's physical, emotional, and spiritual capacities. ¯ It may be helpful to provide referees with a profile of a "ready" person and ask them to comment on any aspect of concern. ¯ Check that the major superiors who write the ref-erences understand the Exercises. Require that at least one of the referees have made the Exercises. Ask the referee to indicate any knowledge and experience of the Exercises. ¯ Even if the referee did not know the Exercises, the description of the process should alert the person as to the qualities necessary. There should be an indication of the need for an ability to tolerate solitude, the ability to pray, and psychological and emotional stability. 9. What is the process of assessment of applicants at this center? Four individuals read each application and make comments. There is a draft approval form on which three people make assessments in terms of preparation, health, maturity, balance, motivation, timing, spon-sors (any reservations), expectations, helpfulness of the experience, and a proposal of the most suitable director available. The Director of the Center would make the final decision. Review for Religious Overall Reflection on This Process Since 2003, I have directed thirteen men and women in the Nineteenth Annotation Spiritual Exercises (often called the Retreat in Everyday Life). They come here to Gethsemane Community, a community house for a small group of men and women who have mental ill-ness. Entering this environment each week and getting to know the residents as individuals does a great deal to break down stigma and open directees to one aspect of social justice. In some instances this environment has enhanced their experience of the Exercises and led to some involvement in social justice. In reflecting with applicants wishing to make the Nineteenth Annotation, I have found it helpful to keep in mind some of the issues raised in the Readiness project. Appendix: Readiness for the Spiritual Exercises We offer for reflection some questions which may form the basis for an interview with retreat house team members. 1. In your experience as a director of the Spiritual Exercises, what would you look for as indicators that a directee was ready to move into an experience of the Exercises? 2. What would indicate that a directee may not be ready? 3. Given the limitations of time, specifically the time allocated for the disposition days, what would you do to help the directee come to a state of readiness? 4. What is the place of the Exercises in healing mode? 5. What would you do if you decided the directee may not be ready for the Exercises as such or for the full Exercises? 70.1 2011 Harris ¯ Readiness for Spiritual Exercises 6. If you encountered a resistance to the process of the Exercises or to Ignatian spirituality, how would you assist the directee? 7. What would you do if you found that the directee was still emotionally "flooded" by recent trauma which blocked openness to experiencing the Exercises? 8. What would you do if you found that, without real understanding of what would be involved, someone had come as part of a sabbatical and just wanted a nice prayer experience? 9. Do you consider that the current application and referee forms are effective in screening out people not yet ready for the experience of the Exercises? If you have any concerns or uncertainties, have you any sug-gestions as to how the forms could be improved? 10. If you judged from someone's application and referee forms that the person was not ready for the Exercises, what alternatives or further preparation would you suggest? 11. How could referees (e.g., major superiors, bish-ops) without any personal experience of the Exercises, be better informed so they could act more judiciously as referees? 12. Is it better to experience the Exercises, even in a limited way, if constrained by degrees of readiness, than not to experience them at all? 13. What other questions should I have asked? Have you any other comments? Note ~ Beckard, Richard, Organization Development: Strategy and Models, (Reading, Massachusetts. Addison-Wesley, 1969). J. William Pfeiffer and John E. Jones, The 1978 Annual Handbook for Group Facilitators (University Associates). Review for Religqous JULIUS D. LELOCZKY Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective The last enemy to be destroyed is death (1 Co 15:26) Our secularized age is obsessed with the idea of death. Some thirty to forty years ago it was fashionable to talk about the death of God, a shocking phrase borrowed from Friedrich Nietzsche. There was a "death of God" theol-ogy, and there were "death of God" theolo-gians who produced a whole library of books on the topic. Today, some thinkers seem to be ready to declare death itself as god. While the Christian churches and numerous other religious groups, in general, emphasize the preeminence of life on their scale of values, a large percentage of our contemporary society is obsessed with the idea of death. It is true that the thought of our unavoidable mortality is a main human concern in any time period, Julius D. Leloczky OCist writes from Cistercian Abbey of Our Lady of Dallas; 3550 Cistercian Road; Irving, Texas 75039. growing spiritually 70.1 2011 Leloczky ¯ Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective but today, it seems, for many people, death dominates their entire existence and is the ultimate governing principle of their lives. A few weeks ago I noticed in a recent issue of The New York Times Book Review that in the best seller list of paperback fiction, six of the twenty listed books had in their titles the word "dead." A shocking expression of this macabre existential mood is the image painted by John Dominic Crossan: There is no lighthouse keeper. There is no light-house. There is no dry land. There are only people living on rafts made from their own imaginations. And there is the sea.l In this image the guard in the lighthouse represents the traditional image of God, and the ocean that besieges non-stop and finally breaks to pieces these fictitious rafts holding up the people stands for death itself. What is suggested by the image is that, ultimately, death rules. Yet we can understand that, without faith in God, with-out revelation and redemption, surrounded by the expe-riences of the coundess horrors of our age, the human mind almost unavoidably ends up with such a chilling worldview. 6o] Absurdity Yes, indeed, no one can deny it; death is the greatest absurdity. A beloved person, with an entire treasury of knowledge and skills, of kindness and loveliness, vibrancy of intellect, sense of humor, familiar play of a smile, the whole spectrum of various talents and skills, an entire lifetime of memories--all the wealth of a unique per-sonality-- is just gone from one moment to the next, without any possibility of return. Such a senseless and shocking end to human life makes life itself look absurd and tragic, just as a divorce or a failed friendship may Review for Religious make bitter many years of beautiful memories. Why should we work, struggle, dream, suffer if one day we have to leave everyone and everything? Why should we see, hear, experience beauty and goodness and happiness if all of that is only a transitory moment like a pleasant passing breeze and we cannot enjoy it forever? If we cannot live and love forever, why live and love at all? Forever Forever. This is the key word of our life. Whatever we like and whomever we love, we wish to possess for-ever. It is written in our genes, in our blood, in our instincts that we want to live for-ever. We feel in our bones that we have been created for eternity. That is why the pharaohs built their pyra-mids, why the painter paints his pictures, why the poet writes his poems, and why parents want to have children and grandchildren--all these in order to leave some-thing, some part of themselves, behind in this world after they die. We know that we have been created for eternity because we know from the Bible that we have been created in the image of God. That is why we want to live forever, why we find death an absurdity. We ask God defiantly, "If you created us to share in your hap-piness, why did you not create us immortal?" If we cannot live and love forever, why live and love at all? Freedom and Obedience Well, man and woman had originally been created immortal, but also free, just as God is free. In giving 70.1 2011 Leloczky ¯ Looking at Deatb from a Christian Perspective human beings freedom, God gambled--took a tremen-dously great risk---and lost, because man and woman miserably misused their freedom. God lost, and when God lost, we all lost; we lost our immortality, and there-fore we all have to die. Absurdity entered our world. But God is a stubborn God who did not give up but continued to gamble and took an even greater risk by sending the Son on earth as a man. This Son, unlike Adam, was obedient, and he was sent to restore what Adam had squandered by disobedience. But God lost again. When this Son of God was made human in Jesus of Nazareth, his fellow human beings rejected him, condemned him to death, and killed him. The Son was obedient unto death, and being obedient he shared the plight of human life to its very depths: he suffered torture and died on the cross. The worst case scenario became a reality: evil, rebellion, and disobedience tri-umphed over God's goodness, and God's loving plan was seemingly frustrated for good. But enter God's wisdom and almighty power, which out of the worst can make the best. Jesus solemnly declared to Martha just before he raised Lazarus, her brother, from the dead: "I am the resurrection and the life" (Jn 11:25). This Son, the man Jesus Christ, was Life itself, with God's own eternal Life that death could never overpower or defeat dwell-ing within him. This Life proved to be stronger than death and thus ultimately defeated death: on the third day Jesus rose from the dead; he won over death, and his resurrection became the death of death itself. The result of this victory was that the death and resurrection of the one who is Life changed the character and mean-ing of death forever. What used to be the sign of final annihilation became for the friends of Jesus the sign of a new, eternal life: the sign of resurrection. Review for Religious One Life When a person receives Christ's risen life through faith and baptism, as far as that person is concerned, order returns in the world, absurdity is expelled, and death takes on a positive meaning. Formerly, death was a tragic end; now it is the source of new life. Jesus is the seed of this new life, and the seed of new life is planted into us by baptism. We carry the new, eternal life hidden in our fragile bodies. We still have to die. However death no longer means the end of life but the breaking out of eternal life (till now hidden in us by the limitations of our mortal bodies) into eternal dimensions. In an ancient prayer the church is expressing what happens when we die: "Lord, for your faithful people life is changed, not ended." In death we just leave behind all weakness and sickness, all imperfection and decay, and we look forward to a glori-ous, jubilant, eternal life in which all tears will be wiped away. A glory is waiting for us that eye has not seen, ear has not heard, and no mind is able to imagine. Life is one and indivisible; it cannot be separated into a life here on earth and another life after death. Human life, as redeemed by Jesus Christ, is like a tree that keeps growing and growing, and when it cannot grow any further on earth, it breaks through the sky, grows into heaven, and continues growing there. Death is no longer a horrifying enemy or a stumbling block but our ally, a stepping stone toward God, or, as St. Francis of Assisi joyfully called it, "Sister Death." Life is one and indivisible; it cannot be separated into a life here on earth and another life after death. 70.1 2011 Leloczky ¯ Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective One Love Not only is life one and indivisible; so also is love. We read in the Song of Songs that "Love is strong as death" (8:6). Saint Paul writes to the Corinthians, "Love never ends . Faith, hope, and love remain, these three, but the greatest of these is love" (1 Co 13:8-13). Just as the soul is immortal, just as the body, at the end of time, will rise to eternal life, so also the love which a person had in earthly life will live on and continue to grow even after death. Our departed loved ones take their love, with all the other beauty and wealth of their personalities, with them into eternity. I think our risen bodies, with all their skills and talents, will look and act as they looked and acted at the peak of our lives--but without any brokenness--at the point when they reached the epitome of life, before they started the decline into old age. In addition, they will become more beautiful and more precious than they ever were in earthly life because they will be freed from all traces of selfishness. As we think of our friends and relatives who died, we should think of them with the awareness that this wealth of their personalities is with them even now, and if it is with them it is also with us. As long as we are alive on earth, our lives are "unfinished symphonies." When we die, our lives become completed masterpieces on which God puts the divine finishing touch. We should value greatly as our own treasure--hidden for eternity in heaven--the masterpieces of those we love who have gone before us. Preparing for Death We should look also at our own lives from the per-spective of death, and we should ask ourselves from time to time, Am I really working on the masterpiece I am Review for Religious supposed to become? Am I living my days in such a way that my words and deeds and thoughts keep building up in me that temple of the Holy Trinity that God meant me to become? Yes, we realize that most of the work is being done by God, but we should not forget that our cooperation is essential. With a simple metaphor we might say that God provides the building blocks for this temple but our free decisions are the mortar that holds the structure together. It is said that we will die in the way we live. Are my actions, my words, and my thoughts such that they are preparing for me a peace-ful death? In keeping with the above image of life as a tree, is my life growing toward heaven or in a different direction--or, maybe, not growing at all? A Question I frequently hold this question in mind: is there any reason why we could not communicate with our loved ones who have died? I don't think so; if we can ask any of the saints for their intercession, we should be able to be in touch also with our deceased friends and loved ones. I am sure that our loving ghoughts passing from here to there can reach them, more reliably than our call can reach someone through the telephone. Those in heaven and on earth are connected in a loving union by the grace of God, by the presence of God's trinitarian life in all of us. Our departed loved ones are not living light years away from us: they are near us, with us, right next to us. Only hell, the condition of total frozen isola-tion and loneliness, is separated from us. Outside of that state all people are united, in union with each other in God in love, just as the Abbess reflects in the last few words of Thornton Wilder's novel The Bridge of San Luis Re),: "There is a land of the living and a land of the dead 70.1 2011 Leloczky ¯ Looking at Death from a Christian Perspective and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only mean-ing." Or, as St. Paul puts it even more succinctly, "Love never ends" (1 Co 13:8). Note ' John Dominic Crossan, The Dark Interval: Towards a Theology of Sto~y (Polebridge Press, 1988), p. 28. Ask the Birds (Job 12:7) A flock of sparrows speckles the blue-gray sky swooping as one over the November park, slate silhouettes navigating the air with precision. Nuns used to look like this: dark habited, veils streaming in the wind, clustered freely within invisible enclosures. Some inner rule draws the birds to the barren branches of the tallest tree in the straight rank of elms waving to the lake. Despite their gentle bones, the birds' combined weight slows the sway. Stillness. They come each day for prayer or discernment, perched like transient blossoms crowning the tree's skyward arteries. This daily practice suggests permanence, yet I marvel that multiple revisions cast shadows on their family tree: life-sustaining changes in size, shape, speed, and song. I watch their aura of stability and belonging knowing from experience they'll soon be gone. For a few moments, though, their presence comforts me. Then, self-dismissed, the group leaves as it came, a compact community ascending gracefully into unknown and unfeared futures. Terri MacKenzie SHCJ Review for Religious j. THOMAS HAMEL Spiritual Direction 101 ~Ehxerecnis Iegs naantdi,u fso rw eaxsa mcopmlep, goasvine gin tshtreu Sctpioirnist utoal Consider the office of consoling which Christ Our Lord bears and to compare how friends are accus-tomed to console friends (224),~ is it possible that he was still experiencing that kind of consolation? Every now and then, if I should jot down a note in my diary, I can still feel the experience as I record it. The very same re-experiencing, I believe, takes place in speaking as it does in writing, and that fact has led to the ministry of spiritual direction. Thus the prayer experience of a directee is not necessarily wholly taken in until spoken to the sl~iritual director. At this point, the conversation 'takes. on. the complexion of praying. I should add, however, that in all my years of giving direction I have never begun a meeting with formal prayer. My principal reason for this is the fear of presenting myself as an authority figure. Instead, the Father J. Thomas Hamel sJ wrote for us in 2010 in our 69.1 issue. His address remains College of the Holy Cross; 1 College Street; Worcester, Massachusetts 01610. 70.1 2011 Hamel ¯ Spiritual Direction I01 68 simple courtesies of welcome and personal concern are not only appropriate but also serve to prepare the way for contemplative exchange. Ignatius speaks of the one who gives the Exercises and the one who receives the Exercises (Annotation 1). The same roles are present in the ministry of spiritual direction, except that the giving and receiving become a dual ministry. Over time, a directee actually begins to minister to the director by the Way she presents her narrative. Sharing the experience of God is a gift to the director, whose own ministry of giving invited the directee to explore her experience in the first place. In desiring to see what the directee sees, to hear what the directee hears, and to notice what the directee notices, a contemplative director is being a good teacher. By contrast, when not contemplating, a director is merely gathering information, which often results in the direc-tor's primary focus being on the directee rather than on what God is doing. The seed scattered on the ground and beginning to sprout, while no one knows exactly how (Mt 4:27), is an apt metaphor for spiritual direction as it gets underway. The image of the sprouting seed captures what God is doing in both the director and directee. In this spiritual climate, choices begin to blossom. Witnessing a directee coming to reflect in a new way is like being with God in slow motion. A director, not wanting to rush ahead, might nevertheless, if nudged by God, say something he has never said before--and say it with confidence. In a direction session, things do happen for the first time, both for the one giving and for the one receiving direc-tion. For example, the directee may say, Last week in prayer I said to God "I love you." The words just came out of me from my toes to the top Review for Religious of my head. I am fifty years old. This is the first time in all my fifty years I could say that to God. It just poured out of me. I can scarcely believe I said it, but I did, and I meant every word. A first-time experience is wrapped in wonder, creat-ing new inner space. In saying to God "I love you," the directee was newly finding himself lovable. That may account for wanting to share the experience with the spiritual director. When a directee finds a home in Scripture, the door of the imagination opens wide to the director. The sim-ple key to remaining in a gospel scene is to get involved as if we were present -- (114). That involvement is part of being contem-plative. Moreover, just imagine what a directee is feeling when taking time to think of what to say to the Blessed Trinity or to the Eternal Word Incarnate or to our - - Mother and Lady (109). Imagine what a director is feeling when the deepening relationship with Jesus more and more becomes the major narrative of the directee or when moments of silence become moments of prayer. It is normal for a director to refer to an experience of God brought to a previous meeting with the directee. The Prayer of Rememberance These silent interludes are capable of suggesting a particular form of prayer. For example, it is normal for a director to refer to an experience of God brought to a previous meeting with the directee. In addition, the memory of what happened six months ago may be brought into the present conversation. Looking back 70.1 2011 Hamel ¯ Spiritual Direction I01 on the retreat made last year could affect the outcome of moments of quiet during direction. Such memories turn into a prayer of remembrance, especially when the relationship with Christ, his personal attraction, and his challenge are the focal point of the dialogue. Gathering up the leftovers of the past which feed the present is one way we carry out Jesus' everlasting desire that we "do this in remembrance of me" (Lk 22:19). The prayer of remembrance is to have the mind and heart of Christ by taking up the cup and eating the bread of ongoing prayer, of daily life itself, and the cup and bread of spiritual direc-tion. Essential to this prayer is the flexibility to adapt, to be open to what comes up in a spiritual direction session, so that the seed of a new moment may not fall by the wayside without taking root but may be brought to good soil that touches the soul and sprouts afresh. The operative word, of course, is contemplation as in contemplatio--Contemplatio ad amorem--the Contemplation to Keep on Loving (230). This prayer of morning, noon, and evening in everyday life brings to memory the ben-efits received--of my creation, redemption, and partic-ular gifts (234). One might easily name as among the benefits the particular gifts that come in the process of spiritual direction itself: trust, supervision, discernment, spiritual insight, self-knowledge, and the sense of security generated by the clear boundaries between director and directee. Each gift is like a parable that reveals a par-ticular place where God dwells. "See how God dwells in creatures likewise making a temple of me, being created to the image and likeness of His Divine Majesty" (235). The temple is no longer a place, but a person to be con-templated. In the ministry of giving spiritual direction, the spiritual director may grow aware of imitating Jesus, who has truly been contemplating the directee. This Review for Religious might be a new experience for the director as well as for the one receiving direction¯ Being looked at is one thing; being contemplated is noticeably different and reassur-ing. How much the deed of love is shown in contemplat-ing the other! At one time that love expresses itself as an exuberance of joy and gladness, while on other occa-sions it shows itself -- as the urge to labor and work: "consider how God works and labors for me ¯ . ." (236). It is no wonder that spiri-tual direction takes on a life of its own outside of meetings and in the psalms of everyday life. - . That life outside of spiritual direction may be as modest as noticing people reading the Bible on a sub-way and feeling connected with them. It may be coming across God's beauty at the sight of children feeding the swans and their cygnets in a local pond. The crowded streets of the city may bring to mind the picture of Jesus, who was surrounded by crowds of people but never lost sight of the poor among them. Conversations at home and at work may take on a kind of fragrance associ-ated with the conversations in spiritual direction. To put a gloss on St. Paul's "our citizenship is in heaven" (Ph 3:20), our eternal citizenship begins with our feet planted on the earth. That is the test of good spiritual direction. With both feet planted on the earth, Jesus covered a lot of territory in the towns, villages, and synagogues In the ministry of giving spiritual direction, the spiritual director may grow aware of imitating Jesus, who has truly been contemplating the directee. 71 70.1 2011 Hamel * Spiritual Direction I01 of Palestine. Ordinary people would hang on his every word as he spoke in the Temple area. Theologians like Nicodemus would seek his counsel at night. Children would run to him. He loved to tell stories, host picnics, do some fishing in all kinds of weather. Throughout his travels he gave new hope to the poor and marginal-ized. In all his comings and goings, Jesus was a light to old and young, enabling them to contemplate their own goodness, mercy, and faithfulness, thereby elicit-ing from them a response radiant with gratitude to the "bright morning star arising in their hearts" (2 P 1:19). In the light that was Jesus, new sights and sounds came to birth. A spoken word of his echoes Isaiah: And when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left, your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it" (Is 30:21). An interior word, voiceless, reaches the heart. Like the dawn from on high, luminous as the sun and the brightness of rushing waters, the ministry of spiritual direction is a journey into the light of contemplative giving and receiving. Note I David L. Fleming, Draw Me Into Your Friendship: The Spiritual Exercises. A Literal Translation and a Contentporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 168, n. 224. Hereafter I will refer to the Exercises by giving the paragraph number in parentheses 72 Review for Religious PHYLLIS ZAGANO Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons The twin events of the Apostolic Visitation of Women Religious in the United States and the doctrinal investigation of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious present an opportunity to revisit and reconsider the tra-dition of women deacons. While the Apostolic Visitation appears to be primarily involved with lifestyle and ministry, and the doctrinal investigation of LCWR is more inquisitorial in style, each in its own way points toward a reflexive institutional recognition of the place of women in diaconal ministry. The Apostolic Visitation, which moved from initial and unscripted general inquiry, through a detailed three-part questionnaire, to on-site visitations of approximately 25% of U.S. institutes of women religious, is widely Phyllis Zagano is a well-known authority on women in ministry and senior research associate-in-residence at Hofstra University; 104 Heger Hall; 115 Hofstra University; Hempstead, New York 11549. exploring religious life 73 70.1 2011 Zagano ¯ Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons viewed as a corporate insult to the 59,000 or so U.S. women religious under scrutiny and to the local bishops responsible for overseeing them. The doctrinal investigation of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious ballooned from a request for position statements on the matter of women priests, homosexuality, and the primacy of Christ in interreligious dialogue to a full review of publications and positions, directed by American Cardinal William J. Levada, Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Read positively, the subtext of the combined events can provide information about the re-evolution of wom-en's ministry, now through apostolic religious life for women, to the restored permanent diaconate, which is both historically and contemporaneously properly understood as a ministry of prayer and service. Understanding the Diaconate Deacons are ordained to a ministry of service, spe-cifically to the word, the liturgy, and charity. They are not "mini-priests," but clerics with a specific vocation to diaconal ministry. Their distinction from priests is clear in The Catechism of the Catholic Church, No. 875: From [Christ], bishops and priests receive the mis-sion and faculty ("the sacred power") to act in per-sona Christi Capitis; deacons receive the strength to serve the people of God in the diaconia of the liturgy, word and charity, in communion with the bishop and his presbyterate. On 26 October 2009, Pope Benedict XVI issued a Motu proprio entitled Omnium in mentem, which codifies the distinction between priesthood and the diaconate as the distinction is articulated in the Catechism. As stipu- Review for Religious lated in the Motu proprio and now entered into law, dea-cons serve the people of God through the diaconia of the liturgy, the word, and charity. The clear distinction between the priest (who acts in the person of Christ, head of the church) and the deacon (who serves the people of God) both reflects arguments against the ordina-tion of women to the priesthood and deflects arguments against the ordination of women to the diaconate. The essential points raised against women priests are (1) the argument from authority--Jesus chose male apostles and (2) the iconic argu-ment- one must phys-ically represent Jesus. Of course, neither of these applies to the diaconate for several reasons. First, the Apostles, not Christ, are gener-ally understood to have created the diaconate (Ac 6:1-6). Second, the only person in Scripture specifically called "deacon" is Phoebe (Rm 16:1). Third, the deacon is ordained "not to the priesthood, but to the ministry." It is important to recognize both that the diaconate is not the priesthood and that diaconal service is a legitimate vocation for women. Apostolic Religious Life and the Diaconate It is important to recognize both that the diacon-ate is not the priesthood and that diaconal service is a legitimate vocation for women. Without entering into a determinative debate about the immediate possibility of restoring the female diaconate in the Western Church, we can review the twin investigations of women reli- 70.1 2011 Zagano ¯ Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons 76 gious in light of the possibility of an increasingly evident vocation of women to apostolic ministry as deacons. The evolution of what has come to be termed "min-isterial religious life''1 in the United States has moved sufficient numbers of women away from monastery and cloister practices toward ministerial life inserted into the lives of the people, a way of life supported by com-mon life and sometimes,.but not always, lived in com-mon ministry. This ministerial life has many similarities to the ministerial life of the ordained deacon. The Apostolic Visitation's questionnaire is divided into several sections: Identity, Governance, Membership, Spiritual Life, Common Life, Mission & Ministry, and Finances. If each section is considered in the light of apostolic women religious doing the diaconal work of the church--now as unordained lay ministers--we can easily intuit the divergent directions taken by the Visitation and a given institute guided by the Spirit to address the needs of the times. If there indeed is an emerging femi-nine vocation to the diaconate, then perhaps some apos-tolic women religious are demonstrating it. Vatican documents provided by the Visitation team present an investigation into what has come to be under-stood as traditional apostolic religious life, and the over-all attitude of the event itself seems to call for a return to common habit, horaria, mission, and ministry. Indeed, recent statistics gathered by the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate demonstrate that the larger numbers of new vocations to religious life are to insti-tutes that demonstrate such commonality.2 The com-mon- if unstated--criticism of other institutes (those not living according to more traditional expectations) is that they would have more new vocations if they would return to a traditional religious life. But those new voca- Review for Religion, s tions would then be looking for a religious life that is more monastic or cloistered. They would not fit among the evolving charisms of the institutes without common horaria or habit, whose members have moved toward independent and/or less traditional ministries while retaining the public identity of their mem-bership in an institute of consecrated life. The choice appears to be between an institute adopting or retaining common habit, horaria, mission, and ministry, or dying out. Such presents a classic either-or fallacy. The criti-cism ignores the possibility of new life and rebirth into something new. That is, the choice is not between tradi-tional religious life and nothing but between traditional religious life and a new thing. There is no dearth of young women who wish to ded-icate their lives to ministry. Religious life is not identical to lay ecclesial ministry, and such criticism overlooks the fact of increasing numbers of lay ecclesial ministers (some statistics point to 35,000 in the United States today) and, especially, the large number of young women entering lay ecclesial ministry. Neither is religious life the diacon-ate, but such criticism also overlooks the large number of ordained deacons (approximately 36,000 worldwide, with more than 16,000 in the United States). Is it possible that the vocations to apostolic religious life are being overtaken by newer vocations, specifically, to lay ecclesial ministry (being lived out by those married, single, and in religious life) as well as by the vocation to the ordained There is no dearth of young women who wish to dedicate their lives to ministry. 77 70.1 2011 Zagano * Looking for Nuns, Finding Women Deacons diaconate (now being lived out by those married, and by both secular and religious celibates)? Is it possible that the young women who once might have entered many of the now fading institutes of religious life are choos-ing lives more akin to those of secular--or religious--lay ecclesial ministers or deacons? Apostolic Religious and the Diaconal Ministry To assess the possible findings of Rome's twin investigations, it is well to look at the severest critics of contemporary U.S. women's religious life, including journalist Ann Carey, whose 1997 Our Sunday Visitor book, Sisters in Crisis: The Tragic Unraveling of VVomen's Religious Communities, connects abandonment of the habit with what she terms "the deconstruction of min-istry." Carey presents at least one modern case study that pits a religious community of women against the local hierarchy. That case study, the story of the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary in California, is remi-niscent of medieval tugs-of-war between bishops and abbesses over control, not only of the conventual living arrangements of the women, but of their properties and very status as well. The eleventh century saw the initia-tion of the Gregorian Reform, which eventuated in the elevation of the clergy and concurrent diminution of women, including and especially women religious. That thousand-year split between what can be viewed, at least in retrospect, as the "men's church" and the "women's church" echoes throughout Carey's book, which at every turn criticizes the move of women religious away from common habit, horaria, mission, and ministry. Carey's book, however, speaks only to what she per-ceives as a movement away from, without any consider-ation of what the institutes of women religious moved Review for Religious toward as they modernized habits and horaria. Neither she, nor others of the deepest critics of contemporary apostolic religious life for women in the United States, note that the changes were and are specifically in the service of mission and ministry. Granted, missions may have been redefined and broadened, along with minis-tries, but

Las críticasEn el marco de este derrotero por el que ha pasado la tesis de la Paz Democrática, se han montado diversos ángulos de críticas hacia la misma. Una primera vertiente destaca la implausibilidad de las explicaciones que intentan dar cuenta de la supuesta "ley". Así por ejemplo se ha señalado que en momentos de crisis aún en las democracias se produce una reducción del tamaño en el círculo decisor final. O que los dirigentes de los estados no democráticos también enfrentan condicionamientos de índole institucional o por parte de grupos de poder a los que están vinculados. O, incluso, que la opinión pública no es necesariamente una fuerza pacificadora. Asimismo, una crítica de índole realista se refiere a la escasez histórica de democracias que se traduce en pocas oportunidades de conflicto (Peñas, 1997: 133).Otro ángulo ha sido la existencia de serios problemas en la recolección y clasificación de los datos que sustentan la tesis. Su génesis yace en buena medida en la definición de los dos conceptos centrales detrás de la idea de la Paz Democrática: la democracia y la guerra. Sobre el concepto de "democracia" se advierten importantes diferencias en los criterios constitutivos del mismo. ¿Qué es una democracia? ¿Qué rasgos la definen? ¿Cuál es su condición? ¿Son éstas frágiles? Además, existen discrepancias entre las bases de datos y/o bien calificaciones bastante arbitrarias como por ejemplo la consideración en la basePolity II de Francia entre los años 1981 y 1986 como una "anocracia", mientras que El Salvador de la misma época, enfrascado en una cruenta guerra civil sí figuraba como "democracia".En cuanto a las guerras, el criterio de selección de datos más aceptado fue el implementado por Small y Singer que consiste en catalogar como guerra internacional a un conflicto que involucra uno o más participantes estatales y que provoca un mínimo de mil víctimas. Esto excluye intervenciones violentas que causan menos víctimas, pero no por ello políticamente menos significativas o bien las operaciones encubiertas (Salomón, 2001: 247). Tampoco ésta conceptualización da cuenta de las tendencias más modernas en los conflictos internacionales, entre las que se destaca la caída relativa de las disputas interestatales frente a las intraestatales ). En definitiva, "[lo] que caracteriza a nuestros días no es la desaparición de la violencia del sistema internacional ni la ausencia del recurso a la fuerza por parte de los Estados, sino la disminución del número de guerras formalmente declaradas y el aumento de guerras de guerrillas, guerras a través de terceros, subversión interior de los Estados instigada por otros Estados, acciones encubiertas, etc., menos costosas y que no necesitan ser justificadas, por lo menos tanto como una declaración formal de guerra" (Peñas, 1997: 135). Asimismo, los estudios cuantitativos en general han olvidado distinguir entre agresores y agredidos, o también la medición de la intensidad de la guerra (determinar si las democracias causan más muertes que otros Estados). La tesis de la Paz Democrática a su vez no ha logrado dar respuesta a ciertas anomalías que denotan la existencia de variables perturbadoras. Una anomalía es la existencia de zonas de paz en regiones del mundo donde no todas las sociedades son democráticas, como es el caso de América del Sur. Otra es que la correlación entre paz y democracia es más fuerte en el período posterior a la Segunda Guerra Mundial (Farber y Gowa, 1995). Este tipo de anomalías ha llevado a que explicaciones alternativas cobren fuerza. Entre estas, la más destacada es la teoría de Comunidades de Seguridad Pluralistas de Karl Deutsch (1957) que refiere a zonas donde sus miembros tienen la certeza de que sus disputas no se resolverán por medio de la fuerza. También se advierten reajustes y matizaciones de la tesis que debilitan su poder. Un ejemplo es la afirmación de Raymond Cohen (1994) de que la única conclusión razonables es que "los Estados democráticos del área del Atlántico Norte/Europa occidental, compartiendo una serie de circunstancias históricas particulares y una herencia cultural común, han evitado enfrentarse en una guerra" (en Peñas, 1997: 134). Asimismo, es posible encontrar evidencia en contra. Es el caso de la investigación de Charles Kegley y Margaret Hermann (1996) que arroja el interesante resultado de quince casos de intervención militar con uso de la fuerza, entre 1975 y 1995, por parte de democracias estables contra otras democracias estables, de las cuales ocho de ellas correspondían a intervenciones estadounidenses. Más recientemente, Thomas Schwartz y Kiron Skinner (2002: 160-161) identificaron un listado de conflictos que contrarían la tesis o están muy próximos a hacerlo y que hacen a lo que ellos llaman el "problema histórico" de la Paz Democrática:American Revolutionary War, 1775 (Great Britain vs. U.S.)Wars of French Revolution (democratic period), esp. 1793, 1795 (France vs. Great Britain)Quasi War, 1798 (U.S. vs. France)War of 1812 (U.S. vs. Great Britain)Texas War of Independence, 1835 (Texas vs. Mexico)Mexican War, 1846 (U.S. vs. Mexico)Roman Republic vs. France, 1849American Civil War, 1861 (Northern Union vs. Southern Confederacy)Ecuador-Columbia War, 1863Franco-Prussian War, 1870War of the Pacific, 1879 (Chile vs. Peru and Bolivia)Indian Wars, much of nineteenth century (U.S. vs. various Indian nations)Spanish-American War, 1898Boer War, 1899 (Great Britain vs. Transvaal and Orange Free State)World War I, 1914 (Germany vs. Great Britain, France, Italy, Belgium, and U.S.)Chaco War, 1932 (Paraguay vs. Bolivia)Ecuador-Peru, 1941Palestine War, 1948 (Israel vs. Lebanon)Dominican Invasion, 1967 (U.S. vs. Dominican Republic)Cyprus Invasion, 1974 (Turkey vs. Cyprus)Ecuador-Peru, 1981Nagorno-Karabakh, 1989 (Armenia vs. Azerbaijan)Yugoslav Wars, 1991 (Serbia and Bosnian-Serb Republic vs. Croatiaand Bosnia; sometimes Croatia vs. Bosnia)Georgia-Ossetia, 1991 (Georgia vs. South Ossetia)Georgia-Abkhazia, 1992 (Georgia vs. Abkhazia and allegedly Russia)Moldova-Dnestr Republic, 1992 (Moldova vs. Dnestr Republic and allegedly Russia)Chechen War of Independence, 1994 (Russia vs. Chechnya)Ecuador-Peru, 1995NATO-Yugoslavia, 1999India-Pakistan, 1999 Como se advierte, la teoría de la Paz Democrática se enfrenta a problemas tanto de índole empírica como de índole explicativa. Frente a este tipo de críticas, las reacciones se han dividido entre las defensivas (Maoz, 1997), las que han ignorado los hallazgos, las que han empezado a considerar otros factores (Russett, 1998) y las que se han dedicado a verificar su validez mediante estudios de casos (Elman, 1997). En definitiva, el debate ha sido prolífico y entre una de sus evoluciones más interesantes es la que ha recomendado evitar "las dicotomías simplistas y estudiar el mayor número posible de interacciones entre factores de conflicto internos e internacionales" (Salomón, 2001: 253).La materialización política de la Paz DemocráticaEn el contexto del "optimismo liberal" despertado por el colapso soviético y el fin de la guerra fría, la tesis de la Paz Democrática suscitó gran entusiasmo, sobre todo entre aquellos estudiosos de las Relaciones Internacionales que ansiaban acabar con la hegemonía retórica del realismo-neorrealismo en la disciplina. Como señala Peñas (1997: 130), "la gran virtud de esta tesis (…) es que en su discurso disuelve o reconcilia la escisión entre principios e intereses: una política de extensión de las democracias de libre mercado es a la vez una política éticamente justa y políticamente adecuada". Por tanto, el corolario político de la tesis de la Paz Democrática no es otro que la presunción de que el imperio de la paz y la cooperación internacionales requieren de la democratización de los Estados en el Sistema Internacional. Esto ha dado lugar al plano prescriptivo de los teóricos de la Paz Democrática. El más destacado en este sentido ha sido Russett al recomendar al gobierno en Washington la activa promoción democrática en base a las "pruebas sólidas de que las democracias no se hacen la guerra entre sí". Su propuesta se cuida de no alentar intervenciones militares unilaterales, sino apoyadas y legitimadas por organizaciones como la ONU o la OEA; y sus preceptos, en efecto, se materializaron durante la administración Clinton en la estrategia de Engagement y Enlargement ("compromiso y expansión"), en la que primacía global estadounidense, democracia y libre mercado caminaron de la mano.Pero lejos está de ser la Paz Democrática algo reciente o coyuntural en el discurso de política exterior de Estados Unidos. John Ikenberry sostiene que "[the] American preoccupation with promoting democracy abroad fits into a larger view about the sources of a stable, legitimate, secure, and prosperous international order. This outlook may not always be the chief guiding principle of policy, and it may sometimes lead to error. Still, it is a relatively coherent orientation rooted in the American political experience and American understandings of history, economics, and the sources of political stability" (Ikenberry, 1999). Sus orígenes políticos se remontan, claro es, a Woodrow Wilson quien en 1917 señaló: "A steadfast concert of peace can never be maintained except by a partnership of democratic nations. No autocratic government could be trusted to keep faith within it or observe its covenants". De acuerdo con el análisis de Henry Kissinger (1995), Wilson retomó postulados ya volcados en su momento por Thomas Jefferson, a saber: a) que la misión especial de Estados Unidos trasciende la diplomacia cotidiana, y los obliga a servir como faro de libertad para el resto de la humanidad, y b) que la política exterior de las democracias es moralmente superior porque el pueblo es, en esencia, amante de la paz. Esta misma línea de argumentación fue bien visible en la prédica de Harry Truman sobre las naciones libres, en la visión maníquea del "Imperio del Mal" de Ronald Reagan y, además del mencionado Clinton, más recientemente en las administraciones Bush (h) y Obama, como puede verse en los siguientes extractos obtenidos de distintos documentos estratégicos. Estamos en presencia por tanto de una constante de política exterior estadounidense.A National Security Strategy for a New Century, October 1998."…We seek international support in helping strengthen democratic and free market institutions and norms in countries making the transition from closed to open societies. This commitment to see freedom and respect for human rights take hold is not only just, but pragmatic, for strengthened democratic institutions benefit the United States and the world" (p. 33).The National Security Strategy of the United States of America, September 2002."…We will (…) use our foreign aid to promote freedom and support those who struggle non-violently for it, ensuring that nations moving toward democracy are rewarded for the steps they take (…) [and we will] make freedom and the development of democratic institutions key themes in our bilateral relations, seeking solidarity andcooperation from other democracies while we press governments that deny human rights to move toward a better future" (p. 4).National Security Strategy, May 2010."… The United States supports the expansion of democracy and human rights abroad because governments that respect these values are more just, peaceful, and legitimate. We also do so because their success abroad fosters an environment that supports America's national interests. Political systems that protect universal rights are ultimately more stable, successful, and secure. As our history shows, the United States can more effectively forge consensus to tackle shared challenges when working with governments that reflect the will and respect the rights of their people, rather than just the narrow interests of those in power" (p. 37).Esta prédica democrática, sin embargo, pareciera marchar a contramano de ciertas realidades. Señala Peñas, "la historia demuestra que las islas liberales no sólo han hecho la guerra por doquier, sino que además han sido responsables de un alto grado de militarización del mundo y han contribuido significativamente a la militarización y los conflictos entre los Estados no democráticos: esta militarización podría poner en peligro la paz democrática que el liberalismo propugna" (Peñas, 1997: 136). Estados Unidos, una de las democracias más importantes a nivel mundial (sino la más), posee en particular una historia reciente de retroalimentación entre militarización y conflictividad en el Tercer Mundo. Vale recordar, cómo a través de la CIA, Washington ayudó armar a la red al-Qaeda para combatir a la ocupación soviética de Afganistán en la década del '80, lo que a la postre generó una guerra civil en dicho país y el surgimiento de un importante enemigo en la figura de Osama Bin Laden, o bien el apoyo a Saddam Hussein durante la guerra irano-iraquí por aquellos mismos años en coexistencia casi paradojal con la venta encubierta de armamento a Irán —destinada a su vez a financiar la guerra sucia de los Contras nicaragüenses contra el gobierno revolucionario sandinista. La invasión a Iraq en marzo de 2003 y el posterior caos del país, también constituye un buen ejemplo del fracaso y los peligros que conlleva la aplicación de una retórica democrático-mesiánica a través de la manu militari.Ciertamente, el repaso de estos eventos despierta temores si se contempla el actual caso de Libia. Allí, la intervención bajo autorización del Consejo de Seguridad de Naciones Unidas para frenar la crisis humanitaria en curso en el país, por iniciativa de Francia, Estados Unidos, Italia, Gran Bretaña y España (todas democracias), se ha convertido en una operación liderada por la OTAN, donde se está financiando y proveyendo a las fuerzas insurgentes opositoras a Kadafy y en la que el objetivo del cambio de régimen parece cada vez más claro (van Tijen, 2011). A pesar del importante despliegue de poder aéreo y naval, la balanza del conflicto parece no sólo equilibrada sino estancada, contrariando las expectativas iniciales de los mandos políticos y militares occidentales, lo que a su vez augura una potencial inestabilidad en el corto y mediano plazo para todo el Magreb. ¿Es esta la clase de escenario regional que desea la comunidad internacional? ¿Es esto lo que pretenden las principales democracias occidentales? Difícilmente.Resulta por tanto un desafío tan grande como imperioso el lograr romper con la trampa entre democracia, militarización y conflictividad en aumento. Más aún si se advierten datos tan desalentadores como el tamaño del gasto militar de Estados Unidos, el cual eclipsa el gasto correspondiente al resto de las potencias y regiones del planeta.Tal contrariedad entre discurso pacífico-democrático y los hechos, en parte, se explica porque el objetivo estadounidense de la difusión de la democracia liberal a nivel mundial no es el único que compone su política exterior. Existen otros intereses (de seguridad, económicos, poder, etc.) y los medios para conseguirlos no siempre son pacíficos, ni justificables. Desde la Segunda Guerra Mundial, la política exterior estadounidense ha oscilado entre métodos como la negociación, disuasión, unilateralismo y multilateralismo (Barceló Sasía, 2006: 64). En este marco, por momentos el discurso político de la Paz Democrática ha generado la impresión de actuar más como una mera justificación retórica, como un auxilio para encubrir ideológicamente motivaciones de otro orden, antes que como el verdadero leit motif de las acciones emprendidas.Reflexión finalEn definitiva, la Paz Democrática, la idea de que las democracias no guerrean entre sí, cuyo corolario nos dice que la construcción de estados democráticos promueve la estabilidad en las relaciones internacionales, resulta una sugestiva noción desprendida del Liberalismo cuya corroboración científica, a pesar de las frases pomposas que puedan emitirse sobre su certeza y fiabilidad, se encuentra aún en juego. Siendo una tesis por demás atractiva, defendida y cuestionada en el mundo académico, resulta aún más trascendente su estudio dada su cristalización fáctica como supuesto criterio guía en el comportamiento exterior de los Estados democráticos más poderosos a nivel internacional. Los dilemas que ello entraña no son menores, como los intentos recientes y actuales de "democratizar" Medio Oriente y el Mundo Árabe nos recuerdan. Dobles discursos —morales de doble-standard de acuerdo con la célebre crítica de Stanley Hoffman— parecen conjugar anhelos democráticos con intereses geopolíticos y/o geoeconómicos, o más bien encubrir estos últimos bajo el manto de los primeros. En el medio, se resuelven y dirimen en el tablero mundial las corrientes de cambio pacífico o revolucionario, de progreso democrático o de restauración autocrática, las viejas lógicas de poder, de conquista y de influencia, la estabilidad internacional, el porvenir de la guerra y las sombras de la paz. *Candidato doctoral, Universidad Nacional de General San Martín (UNSAM, Argentina). 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A Social Constructivist Interpretation of the Liberal Argument", European Journal of International Relations, No. 1 (1995), pp. 491-517.Rummel, Rudolph: "Libertarianism and Interstate Violence", Journal of Conflict Resolution, No. 27 (1983), pp. 27-71.Russett, Bruce: "A neo-Kantian perspective: democracy, interdependence, and international organizations in building security communities", en Emanuel Adler & Michael Barnett (eds.):Security Communities (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998).Russett, Bruce: Grasping the Democratic Peace (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993).Salomón, Mónica: "El debate sobre la «paz democrática». Una aproximación crítica", Revista de Estudios Políticos (Nueva Época), Núm. 113 (Julio-Septiembre 2001), pp. 237-265.Schwartz, Thomas & Kiron K. 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Issue 45.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1986. ; Direction and Reconciliation The Prayer of Being Responses to Rape The Key to Spiritual Direction Volume 45 N umber 6 Nov.IDec. 1986 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR REt.IGIOOS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REL~OOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVtEW YOn RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. 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The World Synod of Bishops: The Extraordinary Session of 1985 The Ordinary Session of 1987 Jan Schotte, C.I.C.M. Archbishop Schotte is General Secretary of the World Synod of Bishops. This article is based on his address to the Catholic Press AssOciation Convention, June 7, 1986, the text of which was first published in its The Catholic Journalist, July, 1986, pp. 5-8. ~n this article I will deal with what I have learned, during the past~months since my transfer to the office of Permanent Secretary, about one of the youngest institutions of the Catholic Church, the World Synod of Bishops. When in the course of my remarks I intend also to say a few words about the relationship between the Synod and the media, please accept my contribu-tion as the expressio~n of a deeply held conviction that the media have a major role to play in the mission of the Chm:ch, and especially with regard to the Synod of Bishops. This conviction is based on my experience as a priest and missionary who has been privileged to serve the Gospel of the Lord and his Church in many different functions. I worked with the media as the briefing officer for French-speaking journalists in the 1980 and 1983 Synods of Bishops. In those days, I was somewhat biased in favor 0f media people. Today, as Secretary General of the Synod, I dare to hope that I still carry within me that same favorable bias. I will confine my remarks to.three areas. In the first place, I will share some insight into the preparation, the process and the final product of the Extraordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, held in 1985. 801 802 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 Secondly, I will brief the reader concerning the next Ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops on the theme "Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and the World, Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council," which is scheduled to take place from October 1 through 30, 1987. Finally, I will offer some very tentative comments on the relationship between Synod and media, telling what the Secretary General of the Synod expects from the media, and at the same time expecting to hear from the media professionals, what they expect from the Synod Secretariat. I. The Extraordinary Synod of 1985 The Extraordinary Synod, which received more media attention than any of the previous synods, was first and foremost a Synod of Bishops-- just that, but totally that! What Is the Synod of Bishops? It is not easy to give a brief reply to this question. It becomes especially difficult when the person asking the question expects an answer in terms of civil or political administration. Is it a parliament, a Church senate, a private council of the pope, a mini-ecumenical council? Each of these bodies has some analogy with the Synod, but none is apt to explain the true nature of the Synod. The Synod is explainable only in terms of the interior logic of the Church, from within her structure and her life. Dealing with an ecclesial entity, a juridical-institutional explanation is not sufficient, but it is necessary to have recourse to the notion of the Church as mystery and as communion. The Synod of Bishops has become part of the life of the Catholic Church; we accept its existence as normal, undisputed. From 1967 onwards we have witnessed the synodal assemblies treating topics and arguments of great importance and attracting the attention not only of Catholics but also of many others. The Synod of Bishops has become one of the propulsion centers of the pastoral activity of the Church, introducing into its life the more important reforms called for by Vatican I1. We recall the 1967 Synod which discussed several topics: the basic orienta-tion for the New Code of Canon Law; orientations for the reform of semi-naries; mixed marriages; and institution of the International Theological Commission. The first Extraordinary Synod of 1969 contributed to the clarification of the role of the bishops' conferences their relationship to the Holy See. The Synod of 1971 againdiscussed two fundamental topics: one on the identity of the Catholic priest and the meaning of priestly celibacy; the other on The World Synod of Bishops / 803 social justice. The 1974 Synod was dedicated to the theme of evangeliza-tion. It was followed in 1977 by the Synod on catechesis. The Synod of 198Odiscussed the Christian family. The Synod of 1983 addressed the issue of reconciliation and penance. The Second Extraordinary Synod of 1985 evaluated the implementation and impact of the Second Vatican Council. Truly an impressive list for only twenty years of activity. Such fundamental and vast themes together with their links to the Council and the post-conciliar period suffice to show the growing importance of the Synod of Bishops in the life of the Catholic Church. It is an institution with connotations of universality, agility and topicality, which seeks to fulfill its role as Syn-odos, the "walking together" of bishops for the benefit of the universal Church and all humankind. The Synod of 1985 It is necessary to understand that any .session of the Synod of Bishops is a fruit of the Second Vatican Council, and an expression of collegiality and communion in order to fully grasp the meaning of that special event that was the Second Extraordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, which took place from November 24 through December 8, 1985, on the theme: "The Second Vatican Council on the Twentieth Anniversary of Its Closing." In recent years, the Church has been subjected to surprises: the death of the smiling Pope John Paul I after only thirty-three days in office; the election of the first non'Italian Pope in four centuries; the vitality and charm of Pope John Paul II who travels to all continents and keeps drawing massive crowds of Catholics and non-Catholics alike. In some way, we have become used to such surprises. Despite all this, when John Paul II made his announcement of an extra-ordinary general session of the Synod of Bishops to evaluate the impact of the Second Vatican Council, the Church and the world were not prepared for this new surprise, so much so that immediately a full-blown debate started in the news media about the purpose Of the Synod, about the intentions of the Holy Father, to say nothing about the feasibility, of calling the bishops to Rome with only eleven months of advance notice. Yet this announcement was fully consistent with the personality and style of the Holy Father, and more especially in accord with his deepest faith convictions. It is no secret that John Paul II has a deep sense of his mission, and that he is constantly looking for ways and means to confirm in the faith his brother bishops and the whole people of God. We also know that he attaches great importance to significant gestures and symbols. We have learned that he is not afraid to face reality and tO assess situations with 804 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 utmost lucidity. All these factors taken together would have been sufficient to explain why he deemed it necessary to convene on short notice an Extra-ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, But there is more. John Paul II is a firm believer in the collegiality of the bishops and he is a convinced defender and promoter of the Second,Vatican Council. The Holy Father has always believed and continues to believe in. the Council, not for strategic ~r.easons but for reasons of faith. Vatican II was for him, who participated in all its sessions as a young bishop, an experience which deeply marked .his entire episcopate and pontificate. A faithful analysis of the unwavering support of the Pope ~for the Council seems the only serious and objective method for interpret!~ng the reasons behind the convening of the Second Extraordinary Synod .without falling into the trap of putting the Pope's intentions on trial or of expressing purely subjective judgments. The Pope could not have stated the objectives~of the Synod more clearly: to celebrate,and re-live the extraordinary spirit of the Council; to verify what has been done to implement the Councilteachings; to promote a deeper awareness of the Council and the application of its principles to present and future problems. To look again at the Second Vatican Council and to assess its implemen-tation was, for the bishops at the Synod, a massive program. Yet it was unrealistic to think that the Pope intended to review every single Council document in a comprehensive way within the twelve ~working days that were available. It was equally unlikely that the Holy Father had a further agenda, a hidden one, to throw into reverse the process of renewal initiated by the Council, or to use expressions from certain journalists, "to bury the Council," "to put the brakes on renewal," "to set the clock back," "to roll back the tide," or "to let theprophets of doom back in after they have been banned from the Church by John XXIII." Preparation of the Extraordinary Synod After the surprise announcement by the Holy Father, the General Secretariat of the Synod began immediately the preparation of this unusual event. N,Iy predecessor, the then Archbishop, now Cardinal, Jozef Tomko initiated a series of consultations with a number of bishops and theologians who had participated in all sessions of the Second Vatican Council. Some of those had played a role of primary importance, either as officers of the Council or as participants or experts involved in the drafting of the Council documents. They were asked to react to the three objectives indicated by the Pope and to formulate guidelines for a consultation of all the bishops' conferences. The World Synod of Bishops / 805 The fifteen members of the Council of the General Secretariat were called to Rome for a two-day meeting, March 14-15, 1985, to examine the answers to the preliminary consultation. It was then decided to mail a questionnaire to the patriarchs and metropolitans of the Oriental Churches, to the presidents of bishops' conferences, to the Union of Supefiors General and to the heads of the various departments in the Roman Curia. This questionnaire Went out on April 1, 1985, with a covering letter in which strong emphasis was put on the necessity for a consultation that would reach as many persons and levels of the Local Church as was feasible in so shol~t a time. It was felt that the opinions should be sought not only of the bishops and the experts of the Conference, but also of the priests, religious and laity at large. It was further stressed that the inquiry should try to focus on the major documents of Vatican II, without excluding any of the others. Th6re was no doubt that the debate in the Synod should focus on the nature of the Church and its mission: what is the inner reality of the Church? How does she see herself and, in the light of that perception, how does she organize herself? How does she relate to the complex structures and needs of the world? Such had been the original and genial inspiration of Vatican II itself; any evaluation twenty years later had to concentrate on those same questions. The answers were expected at the General Secretariat by September 1, 1985. However many factors contributed to delays so that the deadline was not respected. The General Secretariat had received only eighteen answers by September I. In the end, however, the result was quite satisfactory: 73.75°70 of the answers'(out of a possible total of 141) were received in time to be incorpo-rated in a summary which reflected the different regional realities, cultures and problems and which~ represented in an objective way the situation of the Church twenty years after the closing of Vatican II. Not every single response to the questionnaire had the same value or authority; some were very detailed while others remained rather schematic; some reflected the thinking of the bishops while 0thersdrew on a large grass-roots response; some had been fully discussed and formulated by the bishops in conference, while others were the work of experts or the secretariat of a conference; some replies reflected rather local concerns while others definitely attempted to see the problems at the level of the Universal Church. All taken together, however, gave a true image of the situation in the Church. I want to share with you a particular observation with regard to this consultation: the formal answers which we received were not the final answers! After the national hierarchies mailed in their submissions, reflection and discussion continued at the level of the single bishop or layperson as well as in the circles of experts, theologians and ecclesial groups or communio 806 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 ties. Many bishops arrived thus at the Synod with different ideas than those expressed in the answers of their respective Conferences. The Final Product The 1985 Synod issued two documents which I am sure you are all familiar with. I feel therefore dispensed from recalling the content of the "Message to the People of God" or of the "Final Report." I only want to clarify a few points. In the media, the fact of the immediate publication of the Final Report was highlighted as an unusual event. Some saw it in terms of a victory of the bisl~ops who wrested this concession from the Pope. The truth of the fact is somewhat different. Every Synod transmits the result of its exchange for consideration to the Holy Father in the form of a report or a list of proposals, or even by entrusting all relevant working papers to the Holy Father, who then decides in what form the results of the Synod will be made public. After the Synods of 1974, 1977 and 1980, the Pope published an "Apostolic Exhortation" in which he presented the results of the Synod. After the 1983 Synod on "Reconciliation and.Penance" however, John Paul II enlisted the collaboration of the bishops elected to the Council of the General Secretariat in preparing a "Post-Synodal Exhortation." During the preparatory phase of the 1985 Extraordinary Synod, many different possibilities for coricluding the Synod had been examined, and the Holy Father did not exclude any, postponing his decision until the Synod had finished its task. When the reports of the small language group~ were presented to the assembly halfway through the proceedings, it became clear that they contained a very rich material, reflecting a large consensus among the participants in evaluating Vatican II's impact and in proposing ways to promote its further implementation. It was then decided to ask the Rappor-teur to .try drafting a final report that would reflect the consensus and the richness of the contributions. This report was debated and finally voted upon. Separate votes were taken on eighteen different sections of the report, and the approval of each one was almost unanimous. In his closing r.emar~s, which followed immediately after the proclamation of the results of the final balloting, the Holy Father stated: Right from the beginning of this Synod, it has appeared clearly how much all those who. were called to participate in it truly shared in its objectives. The results of your work--contained in the "Message" and in the "Final Report"--are witness to your clear-sightedness and your diligent care as well as to your fine ecclesial sense . Therefore, with joy and with sincere gratitude I accept from your hands the "Message" and the "Final Report" which demonstrate this sense of communion: with my consent these docu- The World Synod of Bishops / 807 ments will be rendered public. May the Lord see to it that they bear abundant fruit. It is now your task to ensure that the great force and the awareness of the importance of the Council penetrate deeply into the Universal Church, into your particular churches, and into the various communities. With these words, the Holy Father indicated his approval for the publica-tion of the "Final Report," and manifested at the same time his profound sense of mission and of collegiality. What the "Final Report" makes especially clear is that the Second Vatican Council is the most important event for the Church in the twen-tieth century. The Council offered orientations and answers not only for the questions of the last twenty years, but for the problems of the future as well. The total richness of the documents of the Council, taken together and not separated one from the other, consists in that it explains what the Church is and how she must be Church in the world. The Extraordinary Synod exploded as it were a number of myths which got hold of the minds of many Catholics in the years after Vatican II, and which conditioned the implementation of the Council teaching. Allow me to list just a few. 1. The myth of the primacy of the pastoral over the doctrinal. The "Final Report" affirms: "Special attention must be paid to the four major Consti-tutions of the council, which contain the key for the interpretation of the other Decrees and Declarations. It is not licit to separate the pastoral character from the doctrinal vigor of the documents." 2. The myth of presenting the Vatican Council as a mere historical event, to be left behind as soon as possible in order to work towards Vatican III. The teachings of Vatican II, although looking at the Church and her mission in the light of the prevailing situation, remain valid because they recall funda-mental tenets of the faith and of the Church. 3.The myth of the contradiction between the teachings of Vatican I and Vatican H. The 'Final Report' states: "The Church is one and the same throughout all the Councils." 4. The myth of the preeminence of the spirit over the letter of the Council. The "Final Report" affirms: "It is not legitimate to separate the spirit and the letter of the Council." 5. The myth that pluralism in doctrine o f faith is the way of the future. The "Final Report" states: "The pluralism of fundamentally opposed posi-tions., leads to dissolution, destruction and the loss of identity." 6. The myth that human development is to be promoted without reference to the mystery of the Chu, rch. The "Final Report" says: "It is. necessary to put aside the false and useless opposition between the Church's spiritual mission and diaconia for the world." 81)8 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 7. The myth that any meeting of the world episcopate dissolves auto-matically into opposing camps of North versus South, of East versus West, of liberals versus conservatives. The openness of the debates and the fraternal spirit that was evident from the very first days of the Synod made manifest that there was complete unity. 8. The myth of the intended "'restoration, "" The Bishops affirmed: "The Synod has been for us an occasion which has allowed us once again to experience communion in the one Spirit, in the one faith and hope, and in the one Catholic Church, as well as in the unanimous will to translate the Council into the practice and the life of the Church." We leave to history the final assessment of the Extraordinary Synod of 1985. However it is not presumptuous to state that it was, in many ways, a truly extraordinary event in the life of the Church. The Ordinary Synod on the Laity, 1987 The Synod of Bishops reconvenes in 1987, in ordinary general session, to discuss the "'Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council." Inevitably the bishops will return yet again to consider the nature of the Church and the responsibility of all baptized for her mission and ministry. The 1985 Extraordinary Synod has provided us with the right theological context in which to prepare for the Synod on the Laity. As you know, the Synod on the Laity was originally scheduled for 1986, The announcement by the Holy Father of an Extraordinary General Session of the Synod in 1985 made it advisable to postpone by one year the con-vening of the Synod on'the Laity. In so doing, the Holy Father acceded to a suggestion that was made by the many bishops' conferences who feared not to have sufficient time for a thorough preparation and consultation with the laity. The deadline for the submission to the Synod Secretariat of con-tributions by the bishops' conferences was therefore extended by six months to May 1, 1986. Not the First Synod on the Laity? The coming Ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops will not be the first that deals with the laity. A simple enumeration of the arguments discussed at the past Synods readily demonstrates the continuing and signi-ficant attention which the Synods have devoted to th& theme of the laity. Thus we had the 1971 Synod with its double theme of "Justice in the World" and the "Ministerial Priesthood." Both topics had a particular relevance for the laity: the first in that it touched upon the role of the Church in society--a privileged field of activity for the Christian laity, and the second The World Synod of Bishops / 809 which explored the ministerial priesthood in its connection also with the common priesthood of all the faithful. The 1974 Synod on "Evangelization" recognized and explicitly promoted the specific mission of the laity. It stated: "Lay people, whose particular vocation places them in the midst of the world and in charge of the most varied temporal tasks, must for this very reason exercise a very special form of evangelization." While the 1977 Synod on "Catechesis" stimulated further appreciation of the role of the laity, especially with regard to youth, even more so did the 1980 Synod in its presentation of the Christian family as the primary and basic form of secular vocation and mission in the Church. Finally, the Synod of 1983 recognized and promoted the task of lay people in the work of Christian reconciliation, which finds expression not only within the ecclesial community but also within human society. Reconciliation is not only a personal challenge for each Christian, but a corporate task for the laity. This summary listing of the topics of the Synods amply demo0strates how the Church, through one of her more important institutions, has taken to heart the deepening of her understanding of the vocation and mission of the laity. It could not have been different, since it was one of the major thrusts of the Second Vatican Council to enhance and promote the partici-pation of the laity in the mission of the Church for the salvation of the world. How Was the Theme for the 1987 Synod Chosen? After twenty years of existence, the Synod of Bishops has developed its own procedures and methods, which are all specifically "synodal." This applies also to the selection of a theme for the Synod. At every Ordinary Synod, towards the end of the proceedings, an open debate is organized on possible themes for the next Synod. The Synod Fathers then express their preferences, indicating at the same time why they propose one topic: rather than another. Already at this stage some themes emerge as being especially timely. Immediately after the closing of the Synod, the General Secretary con-tacts all the patriarchs and metropolitans of the Catholic Oriental Church, the heads of the departments of the Roman Curia, and the presidents of national and international conferences of bishops, inviting them to indicate a theme of their choice. This step is necessary since an Ordinary Synod con-sists only of a relatively small number of bishops, and it is imperative to hear from all bishops through their respective conferences. When all the replies have been tallied, the fifteen members of the Council of the Synod Secretariat are then convened to examine the material and 810 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 to formulate more adequately the themes that seem to emerge. Such a further step is necessary because many suggestions from the bishops' conferences will sometimes deal with the same general topic but under different aspects. The top three themes are then prepared for presentation to the Holy Father, who, as the President of the Synod, sets the agenda and determines the topics to be discussed. Up to now, the Holy Father has always been able to honor the results of the consultation, and has steadfastly chosen the theme that emerged as number one. "Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World, Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council" was requested. The Holy Father, acceding tO this request, told the members of the Council of the General Secretariat on May 19, 1984, the following: It is not difficult to grasp the motives for such a convergence of opinion. In reality, the mission of the laity, as an integral part of the salvific mission of the entire People of God, is of fundamental importance for the life of the Church and for the service which the Church herself is called to render to the world. Among the different motives which have been presented in favor of the theme, the following can be singled out. Within the context of the specifically secular vocation and mission of the laity, there have been numerous posit.ive results and achievements, such as the commitment of many lay men and women in the area of human development, social justice, human rights, peace and international solidarity, politics, human labor and culture. There are also in this area a number of problems which require critical evaluation. Two tendencies which are prob-lematical and raise questions cannot be ignored. A first tendency concerns those among the laity who are so influenced by secularism and by the values, or non-values, of the world that they no longer see that their whole activity in the temporal order is necessarily linked with their faith. This is the case of those men or women who engage in social, political, economic or cultural activity and feel that the inspiration and motivation for their commitment must be found outside their faith. It is the case as well of Catholic public officials who in order to serve all their constituents assume that they must promote positions or norms of behavior which are in contradiction with their faith and their Catholic identity. Another tendency exists where Christians believe that they can carry out their mission by abstaining from any involvement in the problems of society. They withdraw into a purely spiritual or devotional world and close in upon themselves or upon the very private circle of any group or movement to The World Synod of Bishops / 811 which they belong. The Council has very clearly stated that "by reason of their special voca-tion it belongs to the laity to seek the kingdom of God by engaging in the temporal affairs and directing them according to God's will." The same Council also noted that "the laity can be called in different ways to more immediate cooperation in the apostolate of the hierarchy" and that "they have the capability of being appointed by the hierarchy to some ecclesial offices with a view to a spiritual end." In accordance with this conciliar doctrine, a more direct and wider participation of the laity in the pastoral activities of the Church came about. But together with this positive develop-ment, there exists also on the part of some of the laity a far more extensive and stronger demand fo~: access to various "ecclesial ministries." Not all lay participation in ecclesial ministries is without problems. In some local churches, one notices a tendency to restrict the mission of the laity to ecclesial ministries only. This can involve the danger of confusion with regard to the correct understanding of the respective missions of the clergy and of the laity in the Church. We thus see in some situations a real attempt at "clericalization of the laity," while at the same time we assist at the phenome-non of the "laicization of the clergy," when the latter take over the specific mission of the laity in temporal affairs by becoming merely social workers, or p61itical activists. These and other phenomena derive from a particular interpretation given to the vocation and mission of the laity in the Church and in the world presented by Vatican.II. If that interpretation is not correct, the vocation of the laity will not be ~ruly lived out, with the result that harm is done not only to individuals and groups but to the entire ecclesial community. The latter's credibility is impaired and its pastoral efficacy is restricted. It is therefore clear that the doctrine of the Council on the participation of the laity in the mission of the Church and on their own specific mission in the world must be studied in depth at this time. The Preparation of the Synod As soon as the theme of the 1987 Synod had been established, the Secretariat of the Synod invited the bishops' conferences, the Pontifical Council for the Laity and other representative bodies to submit their views on how to approach the theme. The answers were examined first by a task force of theologians, and afterwards by the members of the Council of ti;e General Secretariat. Following the indications contained in the answers from the bishops' conferences and the guidelines elaborated by the fifteen members of the Council, the General Secretariat then produces a preliminary paper called Linearnenta or "outline of the theme." 812 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 The Lineamenta has been sent to all the Hierarchies, not as a working paper for the Synod, but as a help for further study of the theme and for wider consultation in all Local Churches. The outline document is in no way--nor does it pretend to be--a complete and logically ordered treatment of the theme. Neither is it an outline or a draft of a possible future synodal document. It aims to offer a point of departure for analysis, discussion and reflection on the laity: on the doctrinal and pastoral aspects of the question, on values and needs, on achievements and diffict~lties. Its main aim is to stimulate discussion and help the Local Churches deepen their own thinking in. the matter. In the covering letter which accompanied the Lineamenta, the General Secretary insisted that the consultation not be limited to the bishops or to specialized commissions of the bishops' conferences. The letter strongly emphasized that the very nature of the theme, as well as the direct experience of those who fully live their vocation as lay Christians, demand a large scale consultation of the laypeople themselves. This consultation should not be limited to comments on the Lineamenta only, but should continue up to the opening of the Synod itself, so that the participating bishops can truly reflect the situations and expectations of the laity in their particular Churches. Past experience has proven that such a consultation can be a truly bene-ficial event for the Church. It can initiate a process of deeper awareness of all the faithful concerning their own baptismal vocation. In preparation of the 1980 Synod on the Family, the Bishops' Conference of France was able to collect fifty thousand answers from groups and families. Prior to the 1983 Synod on Penance and Reconciliation, the Bishops of Chile gathered twenty-five thousand answers from parishes and small ecclesial communities. The very process of the consultation cannot but have d profound impact on the life of the Local Church when it is carried out at all levels. In order to facilitate a consultation at the grass roots level, the Lineamenta was published in seven languages, and bishops' conferences have translated the document into many more local idioms. It has become one of the most widely distributed texts. At the end of the three chapters of the Lineamenta some questions have been formulated. The answers to the questions, duly synthesized at the level of the bishops' conference of each nation and supplemented by any con-sideration which the bishops themselves might add, will then serve as the basis for the "working paper" which we hope to forward to the future par-ticipants sometime before the opening of the Synod. As of May 1, the cutoff date for the submissions from the particular churches and bishops' conferences, the Secretariat had received answers to the questionnaire from a grand total of three conferences of bishops! The The Worm Synod of Bishops / 813 Extraordinary Synod has certainly interfered with the preparation of the Synod on the Laity. But I also feel that Synods which follow too closeiy must allow sufficient time for a thorough preparation in a way that the whole People of God can feel involved. When I left my office some days ago, the submissions had begun to arrive in larger numbers. Within the next month a Task Force of experts--priests and laity-~will study all the responses and prepare an outline for the working paper (Instrumentum laboris). The fifteen cardinals and bishops, members of the Council of the Synod's General Secretariat, will discuss and finalize ~the outline at the next Council meet-ing, October 8-11. It is clear that the preparation, of the Synod constitutes a unique chal. lenge but also a sterling opportunity for lay men and women to undertake an assessment of their own involvement as baptized Christians in the Church and the world. For the whole Church, it will be an occasion to deepen the understanding of the true nature of the Church on the eve of the Third Millennium of her history. It is an occasion that the Church cannot afford to miss. For Catholic professional media people, the coming Synod offers the possibility to look at their own involvement in the Church and in society, and to assess the role they are called to play as Catholics and as communi-cators. But at the same time the whole People of God, pastors together with the laity, must reflect on the sacredness of the communic~ator's vocation, charisma and ministry. I hope that the following remarks may somewhat contribute to this process of reflection on your part. The Synod and the Media The surprise announcement of the Extraordinary Synod and the relatively short time allotted for its preparation attracted right from the beginning an unusual amount of comment and speculation. Within the Catholic Church, some seemed to fear that the Synod would be used to point the Church in a new direction, signaling a kind of retreat from the principles and attitudes of the Second Vatican Council. Some, on the other hand, saw the Synod as providing an opportunity to identify and correct what they judged to be the mistakes and abuses of the past twenty years. Most however--and this contrary to the impression given by the mass media in the months preceding the Synod--accepted the Synod gratefully as an oppor-tunity to deepen their understanding of the Council, while others, of the younger generation, hailed it as a welcome occasion to discover for the first time in a deeply personal way the message of Vatican II. In spite of the clearly stated intentions of the Holy Father, a debate con-tinued to rage well up to and into the time of the Synod itself. Taking into 814 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 account that some media people have difficulty not to inject into their report-ing their own perceptions and biases, the future debate at the Synod was presented erroneously as a battle between liberals and conservatives. Some seeds of misunderstanding concerning the aims of the Synod may also have been found in the polarization which exists today within many sectors of the Catholic community concerning the nature of the Church and her role. Not a few h~ve retained a position which has not moved beyond the First Vatican Council, and see the Church almost exclusively in structural, institu-tional terms. They have not given enough weight to the work of the Second Vatican Council. They have failed to recognize the essential truth that the Second Vatican C6uncil does not contradict the First Vatican Council, but complements it. The primacy and infallibility of the pope, defined at the First, are not contradicted but developed further at the Second Vatican Council by a fuller consideration of the role and ministry of the bishops. The Second Vatican Council lays emphasis, then, on the collegiality of bishops, on their respon-sibility for their own dioceses and for the good of the Universal Church, on the true nature of the diocese as the Church of God in each locality, and on the dignity and calling of all the baptized. Part of the Church's task in the past twenty years has been to try to find ways of expressing these complementary truths of the First and Second Vatican Councils in struc-tures and attitudes that do justice to both. Inevitably we have failures as well as successes to look back on. But some people have never accepted that that effort had to be made. Others have failed to see how the Church relates to the modern world. In the past, some Christians saw nothing but threat and danger in the world. According to those, the Church stood apart from the world and tended to oppose, reject and condemn it. The Second Vatican Council taught that the Church must be open to the world, its aspirations and struggles, and seek to provide it with a soul and a conscience. Because of those and similar factors, some Catholics came to view the Extraordinary Synod as a moment simply of crisis or conflict. They failed to understand that there is a very real sense in which the life and work of the Church, of a Council as well as of a Synod, can only be seen through the eyes of faith. Many, however, and towards the beginning of the Synod they were a majority, acknowledged the true intentions of the Holy Father. This progres-sive acceptance of the objective and of the true nature of the Extraordinary Synod was the result of many converging factors. The Holy Father himself spoke repeatedly, on the occasion of the Angelus prayer on Sundays, of the teaching and orientations of Vatican II. Bishops, bishops' conferences, The World Synod of Bishops / 815 theologians and lay people engaged, everywhere in a process of further reflec-tion about the Council. Each in their own sphere and field, they began to take stock of where they stood and what ,they had done to implement the Council. And so it could be said that even before the Synod convened its objectives had already been partially achieved through a greater awareness of the total richness of Vatican II for the Church of today. The media interest during the Extraordinary Synod was exceptional. Over and beyond the two hundred fifty journalists with permanent accreditation to the Holy See, some four hundred ten correspondents from thirty-four countries came to Rome for the sole purpose of covering the Synod event. The media of the whole world followed the 1985 Synod with more interest than any of the preceding Synods. Never had the Church attracted so much attention since the days of Vatican II, not even during the Conclaves of 1978, nor even on the day the Pope was shot. The large majority of media professionals.~faithfully reported the true content of the proceedings and of the concluding documents. Wherever I went after the Synod, I was truly amazed at seeing how most of the people that I met had a correct knowledge and understanding of the Synod. And yet, some publications still keep hammering away at the so-called secrecy of the synodal process, at the insufficient briefings or press releases, at the reluctance of Synod officials to talk, at the exclusion of the journalists from the Synod Hall during the meetings, and so on. I will not endeavor to give a deta!led account of all that was done before and during the Synod in order to improve the flow of information. I can only pledge that Archbishop Foley and myself are determined not to put aside any legitimate suggestion that will contribute to better and more objec5 tive information. Today, I only want to share some general observations regarding the relationship between the media and Synod, hoping that those of you who will cover the next Synod may be helped in their task. 1. A Synod of Bishops is an event that must totally and specifically be seen in the context of the Church. Information on ihe Synod has to do with the image of the Church. When one speaks of the image of the Church, there is more at stake than "image" understood in a public relations sense. Something far more fundamental is at stake, namely the self-understanding on the part of the Church of her very nature and mission. Upon that self-understanding or "image" so much else depends, and, in the case that con-cerns us here, on it depends the understanding of the nature and functioning of a Synod of Bishops. 2. The Synod of Bishops is not an ecumenical council where all the bishops of the world, together with the pope, exercise directly and collegially the supreme authority in the Church. The Synod, as set out in the Code 816 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 of Canon Law, is a limited group of bishops who have been chosen from different regions of the world, and who meet at stated times with the pope-- normally every third year. The scope of such meetings is threefold: to fos-ter closer unity between the Roman Pontiff and .the bishops; to assist the Roman Pontiff in safeguarding faith and morals and in strengthening ecclesiastical discipline; to consider questions concerning the Church's activity in the world (Can. 342). It is the role of the Synod of Bishops to discuss the questions on the agenda and to formulate suggestions, but not to decide the issues or to issue decrees, unless the Roman Pontiff in certain cases has endowed the Synod with deliberative power, and even in this event, it is the pope's prerogative to ratify the decision (Can. 343). It is most important to be clear on this point. 3. It is important to realize that the Synod of Bishops is directly under the authority of the pope, who convenes its assembly, ratifies the election of its members and appoints other members, determines the agenda, presides over the Synod and brings it to conclusion (Can. 344). The Synod, then, is not to be seen as a kind of constitutional "check and balance" to the authority of the pope; it is most certainly not an alternative or rival authority; it is one means by which the bishops of the world are given an opportunity to collaborate with the Holy Father for the good of the whole Church. The bishops gathered in Synod together with the pope are not called to promote their own priorities. In listening to and in exchanging with their brother bishops from all continents, they try to achieve a consensus regarding specific recommendations which they wish to propose to the pope. While aware of the needs of their own particular Churches, they must view all questions from the perspective of the universal good of the Church, and thus give equal consideration to the situations prevailing in their own dioceses or nations, as to those of the most distant regions and peoples. 4. The synodal process is unique and cannot be compared with any other process of group dynamics. In a Synod, bishops come together in function of the episcopal mission which they received through sacramental ordination. A Synod will therefore always be first and foremost an event with a spiritual dimension. All through the days of a Synod, bishops open their hearts and minds not only to their brother bishops but to the voice of the Holy Spirit. They allow their convictions to be shaped by human reasoning, by speak-ing out and by listening, by dialogue and discussion, but above all by their willingness to accept the message of Jesus Christ, while together they fathom its depth and relevance under the inspiration of the Spirit. It is therefore normal that at the end of a synodal process bishops approve proposals and express ideas which they did not hold at the beginning, or which differ from what had been stated by their own conference of bishops before the Synod. The World Synod of Bishops / 817 The process of discernment is so essential to the Synod that it should not be made dependent on the ebb and flow of public opinion. That process would be hampered or even distorted if bishops were concerned more with posturing for the media back home than with the collegial search for insight and consensus. 5. Religious editors and correspondents are by and large professionals in the true sense: they know their business and they have a thorough under-standing of the business of the Church. However, time and again some media send to the Synod correspondents who have earned their kudos on the polit-ical scene but are mere apprentices when it comes to Church activities and religious events. The editor of a serious national newspaper or wire service would not dream of sending one of the staff to cover the tennis open unless he or she had demonstrated a solid grip of the intricacies of the game. Nor would a network dispatch to the Pentagon a reporter who has never heard about military strategy, tactics and hardware. And yet, at every Synod we meet media people who see in the Church nothing more than just another political convention or parliamentary assembly where all results are produced through a majority vote. They do not know that the magic of the majority vote does not work when it comes to the formulation of theological principles or moral doctrine! It is not fair to the professional integrity of journalists when they are put in a position of having to relate or interpret events and statements that are totally outside the scope of their qualifications. Goodwill and hard work are not always substitutes for expertise, knowledge and com-petence. A lack of knowledge about religious matters or Church affairs may lead a correspondent to discard whatever news or issue cannot be reduced to "material" or "secular" or "political" categories. 6. A Synod is also a good place to observe trends that are developing in the Church. The last Synods have clearly shown how the presence of bishops from Third World countries is becoming stronger and more influ-ential. Their voices are listened to with greater interest, all the more so since the churches in Africa, Asia and Latin America often present a picture of dynamic growth and joyful celebration that we so sorely miss in many of the churches in the Western world. The Church is no longer Eurocentric or Occidental. Yet among the journalists and correspondents at the Synod, the overwhelming majority comes from Europe and North America, a situa-tion that accurately reflects the distribution of media power in today's interna-tional community. As a consequence, churches in the Third World are almost totally dependent on secondhand information from western sources, except in the case of the few diocesan bulletins that have the good fortune of receiv-ing reports from their own bishops, faithfully composed at the end of each week during a Synod. 818 / Review for Religious, November-Decetnber, 1986 The situation of the Third World churches merits our attention. It is important, therefore, to become more fully aware of the information needs of the younger churches. Media persons should ask themselves whether some-thing more could be done by their publication, by their diocese, at the level of the national Church, particularly of such entities as the Catholic Press Association. It should not be too difficult to come up with some truly imaginative projects, such as sponsoring a religious correspondent from a Third World Church to theupcoming Synod, or organizing internships for young'journalists from Africa or Asia or Latin America who could accom-pany a Western staff to the Synodl These have the means, and I am sure also the motivation, to find a solution to a problem that cannot be solved by them alone, but that will never be solved without their help. I conclude my remarks. Every Synod of Bishops deals with some aspect of the truth of the Church, and always with the entire truth of the Gospel message. The service which the communications media render is, to use an expression dear to John Paul II, "service of truth." In the realm of religious information, the medium cannot be separated from the message of the Lord. We live in an age of increased complexity, confusion and helplessness. In a time of great change and upheaval, there is always, in the Christian com-munity, the human urge to withdraw in a Church-under-siege mentality, to become obsessed with difficulties and dangers, or to suffer paralysis from too much analysis, In the Church we always have a fair share of prophets of doom, those that pull their hair and wring their hands in lament for the loss of faith in our society, while in their own lives they fail to witness to the truth of the Gospel message. Such prophets of doom deny the power of Pentecost and the working of the Spirit, and go forth to proclaim the Good News. In a very special way Catholic media people must be the bringers oftruth, the heralds of the Spirit and the witnesses of love of the Father as revealed in Christ Jesus. The streets and the squares of our cities and villages are teeming with people who wait to hear the truth of the Lord Jesus. We cannot fail them. Pilgrim and Penitent: Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father McCarty writes in his covering letter: "It seems like ages since I've sent in any-thing . A stint on our general council broke the flow of writing." Actually his last article was in 1978, and was entitled: "Religious Roots: Knowing and Owning Our Own Story." He may be addressed at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. The emergency call from my niece came early one Friday last winter. Her seven-year-old was balking at the prospect of first confession with her class several weeks hence. Reassurances seemed of little help. But Heather was willing to talk with her great-uncle. Faced with the formidable task of meeting with a seven-year-old (I'm used to dealing with grown-ups!), I agreed to come over after school that day for., what? Was it to be penitential catechesis? Spiritual direction? Pastoral counseling? Talk about intimidation! In my own mind I settled for just an avuncular chat! Some hours later, I found myself in peripatetic fashion sloshing through the melting snowbanks at a local park. In between kicking her patent leathers into every icy puddle along the way (and stopping to watch a freight train pass), Heather's predicament unfolded. (It's O.K. to write about this. She said I could tell.) Yes, she was clear about the meaning of the sacrament (she called it "reconciliation" !) and about the ritual involved. Yes, her God-image was in good shape (God was her "friend"). No, she didn't have trouble telling God she was sorry when she didn't behave properly (though she did have some trouble telling her brother!). No, she wasn't afraid of the priest (he was "real nice" with the kids). What her hesitation came down to was: (a) she didn't want to have to 819 820 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 tell all her sins to anyone (at least no one "outside the family!") and (b) she was afraid that, if she did, the priest would tell her parents (apparently they didn't count as part of "the family"!) After some reassurances that lots of grown-ups had difficulties with confession (she was surprised that grown-ups had to go too!), but many I knew found it very helpful. I asked if she thought she might give it a try. Her response: "I'11 have to think it over." By that time we were back to the house. It seemed right to end this avuncular chat at this point. There is a certain irony in what appears to be a simultaneous rise of interest in prayer in the United States~ and a sharp decline in the number of sacramental confessions by "grown-ups" in the last two decades.2 Nor is the latter decline limited to the United States. Church-wide concern was manifest at the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops which addressed "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church.''3 At the close of the synod, Pope John Paul II called for a "contemporary penitential catechesis." With personal prayer "up" and sacramental confessions "down," there has been correspondingly an increased search for spiritual directors and a decreased demand for confessors. Perhaps it would be mutually advantageous for both the sacramental ministry of reconciliation and the non-sacramental ministry of spiritual direction to see them in relationship to one another. That might be one step toward a contemporary catechesis, hopefully leading to a deepened understanding and appreciation of both ministries. It is my purpose here neither to analyze the reasons for this simultaneous rise and decline, nor to trace the historical development of either ministry to any great extent. Rather, I shall explore some distinctions'and similarities between the two; weigh the comparative merits of keeping them together or separate; and, finally, suggest ways in which the two ministries might be kept correlative and complementary in the lives of Christians called to be both pilgrims and penitents. My two basic premises are: (1) it is generally helpful and sometimes necessary to talk about one's experiences of both grace and sinfulness; (2) spiritual direction and the sacrament of penance are two distinct, but not necessarily separate forms of pastoral care providing forums for such sharing. The choice is not to be pilgrim or penitent; it is how, when and where to assume the modality of each. I use the term pilgrim in a symbolic sense to indicate a person's graced movement towards God which often leads to spiritual direction; I use the term penitent in a symbolic sense to indicate a person's movement away from sin which often leads to confession. To expand the symbols somewhat, a pilgrim might be described as one Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 821 who chooses to embark on an intentional faith-journey. The journey becomes intentional to the extent that a person makes a commitment to give serious and consistent attention to the quest for holiness of life as a disciple. Life becomes a faith-journey to the extent that one believes in and acts as though there is a transcendent dimension to all reality and belief in a God who con-tinues to provide for and to guide creatures as they move through life. There is an outer dimension to this journey as the pilgrim interacts with people, places and events that occur in providential sequence and become part of one's sacred geography. There is an inner dimension to this journey as the pilgrim follows a path that leads to deeper union with the divine. Above all, the pilgrim style is prayerful in that, it provides for uncluttered space for reflection so that the people, places and events of the journey can become revelatory of God's beauty, design and call. For help with this discerning prayer, pilgrims often seek out spiritual directors who act as companions, counselors, guides for the journey. ,. As a symbol, a penitent might be described as one involved in an ongoing process of conversion as a sinner loved by God who shows a spirit of true penitence in seeking forgiveness of sin and reconciliation within the community of believers. Conversion is a lifelong process of allowing the grace of God to unify and to free our divided hearts for perfect love. It is a movement away from self-absorption and towards self-surrender to God's designs. True penitence involves knowing and owning the reality of one's sins, being sorry for them and seeking forgiveness. This inner disposition of penitence becomes outwardly manifest in acknowledging one's sins not just to God, but to another who, as an agent of reconciliation, can enable the process of for-giveness. This mediation can happen in both sacramental and non-sacra-mental ways. Sacramentally it can occur in baptism, anointing and Eucharist as well as in penance. Non-sacramentally, it can happen in a variety of ways including healing services, therapeutic counseling or just a talk with a trusted confidant. There is a splendid example of this latter means in the Fifth of Alcoholics Anonymous' Twelve Steps which states: "Admitted to God, to ourselves, and. to another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs.''4 Prescinding from any canoncial necessity, A.A. attests to the efficacy of confessing to another human being: This practice of admitting one's defects to another person is, of course, very ancient. It has been validated in every century, and it characterizes the lives of all spiritually centered and truly religious people. But today religionis by no means the sole advocate of this saving principle. Psychi-atrists and psychologists point out the deep need every human being has for practical insight and knowledge of his own personality flaws and for a discussion of them with an understanding and trustworthy person. So 822 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 far as alcoholics are concerned, A.A. would go even further. Most of us would declare that without a fearless admission of our defects to another human being we could not stay sober. It seems plain that the grace of God will not enter to expel our destructive obsessions until we are willing to try this.5 Finally, a penitent seeks reconciliation within the community of believers. Since one's sins break or fray the bonds of relationship and tend to alienate or isolate the sinner, there is need to seek at-oneness with others who have been affected by one's dark deeds, words or omissions. And this applies to societal as well as personal sin. For help in seeking forgiveness and recon-ciliation, penitents often seek confessors and confidants with whom they can share their failings and seek absolution. Distinctions Between Spiritual Direction and the Sacrament of Penance Before drawing distinctions between the two ministries, a brief historical sketch of the roles of confessor and spiritual director may prove illuminating. In the tradition of the Eastern Church, there has always .been a clear distinction between confessor (parish priest) and spiritual director (starets). According to P. de R6gis: One confesses to his parish priest, and does so by way of an ecclesiastical obligation. He thus accomplishes a duty of community life. However, he goes to the starers solely with the pure desire for personal perfection . A second trait sets the starets completely apart from the confessor. He is chosen not because of his priestly character, but solely because of his charis-matic gifts which people think they see in him. This situation, without doubt, has always existed everywhere, and it was St. Francis de Sales who recommended that we choose our director carefully from "among ten thousand . ,,6 In the tradition of the Western Church, spiritual direction came to be increasingly combined with sacramental confession, a development that paved the way for the later "confession of devotion.''7 A significant influence in the development of Western sacramental prac-tice has been that of St. Alphonsus Ligouri who, in explaining the duties of a confessor, declares that one of the most important of these duties is that of "directing devout souls.''8 B. Haring reflects this strong Alphon-sian tradition of uniting the role of spiritual director with that of confessor: The confessor must also form the conscience of his penitent to an awareness of the obligation to grow in the love of God . The confesso~:'s role is to guide the penitent through the various pathways to holiness, lighting the way to Christ by helping him to develop a fuller prayer life.9 Others who highlight the liturgical role of the confessor tend to separate Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 823 more the ministries of spiritual director and confessor as, for example, L. Hamelin: Nor is the priest I encounter in this sacrament primarily a director of con-science. All the better if he is this, since such direction is a felicitous pro-longation of confession. But it is not essential to the sacrament of reconciliation that the confessor be a good director. The important thing is that he is charged with a mission, namely, the proclamation of the world's salvation. ~o Notwithstanding a variation of stress on the confessor's role as spiritual director, certain distinctions between the ministries of spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation can be made on the basis of purpose (why), minister (who), content (what), process (how), time (when), place (where) and recipient (for whom). These are not meant to be sharp distinctions. Often what happens more properly in one forum occurs also in the other, but in a more secondary way. For example, healing can happen in direction; prayer does occur in the sacrament. Purpose (Why?): Spiritual direction aims primarily at enabling growth in a person's relationship with God and with others in Christ. In addition to proclaiming the world's salvation, the sacrament of penance aims primarily at mediating God's forgiveness and a person's reconciliation with God, self and others. As A. Von Speyer says, "To put the matter simply, we may say that the main function of the confessor is to set free from sin, that of the director to foster growth in divine love.''~ A further distinction should be made within the sacrament itself -- that of penance as a sacrament of necessity, following mortal sin and that of devotion, useful for spiritual progress. This classical distinction is repeated in the revised Rite of Penance (1973) in numbers six and seven, yet, as L. Orsy points out: Strangely enough., it seems that these two distinct operations of penance are lost from sight; the very term "reconciliation" is used indiscriminately for both, although in its proper sense it should be used for those who "have left the house of their Father," not for ttiose who have remained there.~2 Minister (Who?): The present complex practice of the Church is that confessors be ordained priests with faculties granted by an Ordinary for the administration of the sacrament to specified individuals or classes of people. Spiritual directors, on the other hand, do not hold formal office in the Church. Ideally, they are those charismatically gifted and who have the requisite knowledge, experience and skills to enable spiritual growth, and who are sought out by the community. Content (What?): The focus of content in spiritual direction is on the God-consciousness in a person's life and how that person is responding to 824 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 what is heard/seen/felt. The ministry of direction embraces the entire range of a person's religious identity. Key are the questions: Where is God and his offers of grace in the experiences of my everyday life? What are God's desires for me? What am I doing about it? In the sacrament of penance, the focus of content is on a person's need for the forgiveness of sin by an all-loving and merciful God. Key are the questions: What is the shape of my sinfulness for which I am sorry and seek forgiveness? Can I experience God as merciful and myself as a loved sinner? Process (How?): Confession takes place in the internal sacramental forum according to a prescribed rite and is governed by specific laws. In the revised Rite of Penance, there are three modes of sacramental celebration: two com-munal, one individual. For individual, auricular confession, there are pro-visions for praying with and for the penitent, sharing of texts from Sacred Scripture, listening compassionately to the confession of sins on behalf of God and the community, helping to discern the spiritual situation of the penitent, conveying the forgiveness of God by absolution, expressing the exigence of God's call to conversion by the imposition of an appropriate penance and possibly offering counsel as it seems fitting?3 Spiritual direction takes place in the internal, non-sacramental forum, does not follow any set ritual, noris it generally governed by specific legis-lation beyond the basic norms of moral conduct. Direction involves an inter-personal exchange helpful in discerning God's action in the life of the directee. It proceeds according to a style congenial to a particular director and direc-tee, though there are dynamics foundational to all healthy spiritual direction. Time (When?): Spiritual directors meet with directees on a regular basis determined by a working alliance/contract/covenant mutually agreed upon. Penitents are obliged to receive the sacrament of penance as soon as feasible following mortal sin. For confessions of devotion, frequency rather than regularity seems to be the norm suggested for current Church practice. Place (Where?): The ordinary setting for sacramental confession is either a confessional with screen between priest and pentitent, or a reconciliation room specifically appointed for a more personal and informal exchange between the two. (Heather calls the first "the old way" and the second "the new way"! She likes "the old way"!) There is no designated place for sessions of spiritual direction, though consideration should be given to a discreet setting that provides the requisite comfort and confidentiality for a fruitful exchange. Recipient (For whom?): The sacrament of penance is for Christians assuming the modality of penitent.s. Sp.iritual direction is for those assum-ing the modality of pilgrims. Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation Similarities Between the Two Ministries Just as there are differences I~etween spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation, so are there similarities on the bases of purpose, minister, content, process and recipient. Purpose: Both are concerned with the spiritual condition of the pilgrim/ penitent; one stresses the turning away from sin, and the other, the turning towards God -- two sides of the same coin, conversion. Minister: Both confessor and spiritual director see their roles as instrumental, with the Holy Spirit as the principal agent of both forgiveness and spiritual growth. Their instrumentality is enhanced by many of the same qualities and dispositions like prayerfulness, a listening heart, fraternal exchange, respect for the freedom of the other, observance of confidentiality, Christlike love. Content: On the one hand, matters of spiritual growth often receive attention, especially in confessions of devotion. On the other hand, matters concerning forgiveness frequently are dealt with in spiritual direction. A report to the 1983 Synod of Bishops indicates several ways in which this happens: ". certain forms of spiritual direction are of the nature to redeem sins, as, for instance, the revision de vie, the capitulum culpae, a talk with one's spiritual director, confession to a starets in connection with monastic practice." 14 Process: Many of the activities and dynamics that enable effective com-munication with each other and fruitful mutual listening to the Spirit are the same, These would include: prayer with and for the pilgrim/penitent; sharing of texts from Sacred Scripture; affirming grace; challenging growth; occasional instruction; co-discerning the spiritual condition of the recipient; observing periods of silence; gestures communicating God's prodigal love manifested in Christ. Recipient: Pilgrim and penitent are modalities of the same person. Both modalities build on a foundational awareness and acceptance of being a sinner unconditionally loved by a graciousand merciful God. The qualities that dispose one for a more fruitful use of both spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation are much the same: honesty; openness; trust; humility; gratitude and not least of all, the ability to keep one's gaze up and out towards God, and not down and in on one's feet! Together or Separate? There are some notable advantages in combining spiritual direction with the reception of the sacrament of reconciliation: (1) This situates spiritual direction within a liturgical/sacramental context, thus lending it a more visible ecclesial dimension. To the extent that sacramental celebration brings a 826 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 deepened and broadened sense of Church, one can experience more solidarity, support and nourishment in the twin tasks of reconciliation and spiritual growth. J. Sudbrack goes so far as to say: As Catholicism sees it, the most initmate transactions between man and God become authentically visible in the sacrament of the Church. Now as a matter of fact spiritual guidance has often taken place, historically, in the sacrament of penance. The modern practice of consulting the priest in confession is a revival of an old tradition. Even when confession and spiritual guidance cannot be one and the same., it is desirable that such guidance culminate in sacramental confession.~5 (2) Combining both can lessen the tendency to dichotomize one's growth in prayer from the moral attitudes and behaviors of one's life; (3) The for-giving, healing, reconciling action of the Holy Spirit is particularly evident in the revised Rite of Penance. It would seem particularly appropriate that these issues so inimical to spiritual growth -- alienation, isolation, selfish-ness, woundedness -- be dealt with in the same context as one's growth in the Spirit; (4) With keener discernment in "naming one's demons," in being specific about the shape of one's sinfulness, a person is likely to see more clearly those factors as they dull one's sensitivity to the Spirit; (5) Com-bining spiritual direction and confession can become an occasion when one can catch a fuller glimpse of self, both the sin-side and the grace-side. With such fuller perspective it would seem less likely that a person would fall prey, on the one hand, to a self-absorbing remorsefulness over sins or, on the other hand, to hubris (spiritual pride) over spiritual progress; (6) The penitent/pilgrim might see more clearly that God saves and sanctifies right in the midst of one's sinfulness, using even sinful acts and attitudes to lead to deeper union. G. Croft has expressed this well: Like the father with his prodigal son, God permitted Israel's waywardness of old in order that his chosen people might experience what it meant to be separated from their Father, and thus recognize afresh their need of him. So, too, our Lord's consciousness that he had come to save the lost sheep is reflected in knowledge of him as savior, particularly in the moment when the sinner experiences separation from God and the need of his love and mercy. This moment of grace and of conversion each one of us has experienced . not once but many times; so that even when we cry "out of the depths," our seeking is fraught with thanksgiving as we remember his past mercies.~6 (7) The sacrament is a humbling reminder that no one can grow a whit spiritually on his or her own initiative; (8) As both guilt and giftedness are brought to the same session, it can be seen more clearly that both need con-version, lest one become' self-absorbed in either guilt or gift; (9) Coming Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 827 at once as pilgrim and penitent can bring a more genuine realization of St. Paul's observation, ". power is at full stretch in weakness" (2 Co 12:9); (10) Finally, having the same person for confessor and director seems more conducive to the integration of these two valuable outside helps to holiness in that one person hears the whole story in the same context. Difficulties in Combining Roles On the side of the confessor/director, the most obvious difficulty is that this limits the ministry of spiritual direction presently to celibate, male clerics. With increasing demands on time and ministerial skills along with decreasing numbers of priests, it seems hardly likely that they could even begin to satisfy the rising need for spiritual directors. Besides, not all priests have the charisms for this ministry, not to mention the knowledge, skills and experience that facilitate the use of the gifts. Confessors who feel called to and who are willing to give a priority to spiritual direction for their penitents need adequate preparation for it. The commission's report to the 1983 Synod expressed this strongly: It is true that today the authentic form of private confession needs to be profoundly renewed in its spiritual aspects, and this in connection with the revised Ordo paenitentiae. Without such a renewal the Church will not be able to cope with the crisis of the sacrament of penance. For this a better spiritual and theological formation of priests is required, in order that they be able to deal with what is now demanded from confession, viz., the latter should contain more elements of spiritual direction and of fraternal .exchange. Under this aspect the so-called confession of devotion retains its importance.~7 On the side of the pilgrim/penitent, unless care is taken, the integrity of the two distinct ministries can become clouded. There may be some danger, too, that by locating spiritual direction within the context of confession, the project of spiritual growth could become too sin-oriented. At times, a person's sense of sinfulness ~can become so humiliating and/or immobilizing that open and honest exchange is flawed. Or the preoccupation with sin can so capture a penitent's consciousness that there is little room or energy for dealing with matters of spiritual growth. When Distinct But Not Separate In practice, the two can be kept distinct, but not necessarily separate. This is more likely to happen when both confessor/director and pilgrim/ penitent are clear about the distinction and habitually differentiate between the two ministries. If a choice is made to combine them, certain considera-tions may prove helpful: (1) Every session of spiritual direction need not 828 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 occur in combination with the sacrament of penance; (2)Especially appropriate times for combining them might be the seasons of Advent and Lent as well as periods of retreat; (3) In preparing beforehand, the very nature of one's examen can be such as to lead to a reflection not only on sinfulness, but also on graced invitations for further growth. For example, the Beatitudes might provide such a growth-oriented examen for pilgrim/ penitents. D. Barry makes this recommendation: The Beatitudes immediately recommend themselves as a blueprint for an updated, life-affirming ethical spirituality especially suited to the Christian mission of healing and reconciliation. Since they summarize the essence of Christlike living in a form that makes for easy recall, the Beatitudes offer a particularly rich source of meditation or conscience examination matter for the maturing Christian . They readily lead us to questions about our attitudes and conduct that get right to the heart of what contemporary discipleship is all about.~8 (4) If the penitent chooses to combine both, there should be some indica-tion of this intent at the beginning of the session. The penitential ritual might then be celebrated by itself at the beginning or the end of the time together or the penitent might indicate a desire to use the entire time to open before God his whole spiritual condition, graced and sinful, with a view to abso-lution at the end. As alluded to previously, one can develop a sensitivity to God speaking in the midst of one's sinfulness showing a side of self not otherwise open to awareness and conversion; (5) It would seem appropri-ate, on the occasion of confession/direction, that a pilgrim/penitent, in addi-tion to expressing sorrow for sins, also express gratitude for the graced times that have occurred. This, too, is with a view to keeping the more complete self in perspective as one considers his or her relationships to God, self and others. When Distinct and Separate Though the 1983 Synod of Bishops was primarily concerned with the sacrament of penance and, consequently, the role of the priest-director, the theological commission's report to the Synod did give recognition to extra-sacramental direction: That form of confession of sins, which is tied to spiritual direction, is a' very ancient treasure of the Church. On the one hand, it belongs to the very structure of the Church. On the other hand, as can be seen in the mg.nastic and spiritual traditions, it also has a place outside the sacrament. Both these data are factors in the development which is guided by the spiritual experience of the Church.~9 In the increasing likelihood that more spiritual directors will not be priests, Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 829 it would seem appropriate that the ministries be kept correlative and comple-mentary to the sacrament of penance. Some provisions that might help this happen are: (1) Alert and resourceful confessors might recommend qualified spiritual directors to those whose confessions indicate they would benefit from such further help; (2) Both directors and confessors might alert those who come to them to issues that might be dealt with better in the other forum. For example, a director may uncover some significant area that needs sacramental healing. Even if the person feels more comfortable in dealing with the issue in direction, there is the further possibility of celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation later; (3) The relationship between director and directee should be such that the latter will feel free to confide his or her sinful as well as graceful side with a director, lest either side get compart-mentalized; (4) Confessors and directors would do well to cultivate a mutual understanding of and respect for each other's ministries so as to see them-selves not in competition, but in collaboration with each other in their care of souls. Summary In the preceding pages, using the symbols of pilgrim and penitent, I have attempted to further such an understanding and appreciation of the ministries of spiritual direction and sacramental reconciliation by indicating some dis-tinctions and similarities between the two; by weighing the comparative merits and deficits of keeping them together or separate; and, finally, by suggesting some ways in which they might be kept correlative and complementary in the lives of Christians who are called to be both pilgrims and penitents. I close with some verses from the heart of one such pilgrim/penitent who has been on the journey somewhat longer than Heather (by about ninety years)! They are entitled, "Confessor-Director": And then above the dark horizon of my night There beamed a star that bathed my soul with light And beckoned me upon my pilgrim way. My spirit soared to meet the guiding flame That traced a path illuminated by His name And led me on to greet the dawning day! The Day that dawns to span Eternity. P.S. By the way, Heather did join the class for the sacrament of reconcilia- 83!1 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 tion! It seems that Father offered them the option of sitting in his lap. I forgot to ask if she opted for the "new" way! NOTES ~K.A. Briggs, "America's Return to Prayer," New Yoi'k Times Magazine (November 18, 1984), pp. 107-18. 2T.P. Sweetser~ "What Ever Happened to Confession?" New Catholic World (January-February, 1964), pp. 31-2. 3j. Ratzinger, "The Necessity for Personal Confession," Origins 13 (October 20, 1983), pp. 331-2. 4Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 1953), pp. 56ff. 51bid, pp. 57-8. 6p. de R6gis, "Confession and Spiritual Direction in the Oriental Church," The Sacrament of Penance, C. de Vaux St. Cyr et al. (Paramus, N.J.: Paulist, 1966), p. 94. 7H.B. Meyer, "Confession or Spiritual Direction?" Making Sense of Confession, 0. Betz, ed., (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1968), p. 128. 8St. Alphonsus Ligouri, Praxis confessarii, nn. 121-27. 9B. Haring, Shalom: Peace (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giraux, 1967), p. 140. ~°L. Hamelin, Reconciliation in the Church, M.J. O'Connell, trans. (Coliegeville: Liturgical Press, 1980). ~tA Von Speyer, Confession (New York: Herder and Herder), p. 214. ~2L. Orsy, The Evolving Church and the Sacrament of Penance (Denville, N.J.: Dimension, 1978). ~3See M. Hellwig, Sign of Reconciliation (Wilmington: M. Glazier, 1982), especially Chapter VIII which treats the role of the confessor. ~41nternational Theological Commission Report to 1983 Synod of Bishops, Penance and Reconciliation, Origins (January 12, 1984), p. 521. ~sj. Sudbrack, Spiritual Guidance (Paulist, 1983), pp. 24-5. ~6G. Croft, "The Sinner Finds God," The Way (January, 1968), pp. 34-40. ~TReport to 1983 Synod, supra, p. 522. ~SD. Barry, Ministry of Reconciliation (New York: Alba House, 1974), p. 111. ~9Report to 1983 Synod, supra, p. 520. Freed for Life in the Spirit -- Together Romans 12:1-8: A Meditation Daniel J. Harrington, S.J. This biblical meditation on Christian life and community was presented at the assembly of the Jesuit New England Province on June 12, 1986. Father Harrington is professor of New Testament at the Weston School of Theology; 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. In an extraordinary act of boldness, Paul addressed at great length the Chris-tians of a church that he had not founded. He was bas.ically asking for a room in which to stay before moving on in his mission to Spain. Even before that, he had to bring the proceeds of the collection to J~rusalem, and perhaps also explain his activities to the Christian leaders there. Meanwhile he was hearing reports about frictions within the Roman community, chiefly with regard to divisions between Gentile Christians and Jewish Christians. With all these situations in mind, Paul wrote what has come to be recog-nized as his theological masterpiece -- his letter to the Romans. I find an uncanny parallel between the dynamics, of Romans and of St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises. Paul first establishes the need of all persons -- Gentiles and. Jews alike -- for something or someone beyond themselves if they are to find right relationship with God. Then he roots the person of Jesus and his followers in the tradition of salvation history reaching back to Abraham. Next he reflects on the difference that Jesus has made by freeing us from sin, death and the Law, and by freeing us for life in the Holy Spirit. These first eight chapters laid the foundations for reflection on the mystery of Israel in chapters 9-11, and for addressing problems within the Roman com-munity in chapters 12-16. Romans 12:1-8 presents Paul's vision of life within the Christian com- 831 832 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 munity. That life is first and foremost a response to the difference that Jesus has made. That life is communal, the task of persons freed from sin, death and the Law as potential masters of their lives, and freed for life under the prompting of the Holy Spirit. That life takes a variety of forms with the clear recognition that all the tasks undertaken within the Christian com-munity are important. "Freed for life in the Spirit -- together" -- that was Paul's understanding of Christian life. Perhaps he can help us as we try to give shape to our life as religious together. A Response Paul begins his exhortation in this way: I appeal to you, brothers, through the mercies of God to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this age but be transformed by renewal of mind so that you may discern what is God's will, what is good and pleasing and perfect (vv. 1-2). With these words, Paul provides us with a way of understanding our-selves and our brothers and sisters in Christ. Calling upon familiar terms associated with sacrifice and temple worship, Paul insists that genuine worship of God takes place not merely in a designated place at a set time but rather in all that we do and whenever we do it. Everyday life is the "place" in which the Father of Jesus Christ is worshipped. The sacrifice that we offer to God is ourselves, no more and no less. In this framework, when we Christians do come together in a designated place at a set time, we are simply making concrete what happens throughout our 'lives. All our life is an act of worship, a time for praise and thanksgiving, a sacrifice holy and pleasing to God. Our Christian lives can be a continuing act of worship precisely because of the difference that Jesus Christ has made. Even though the kingdom of God, or the age to come, is not yet here in its fullness, we believe that in some way it has been inaugurated in Christ. Therefore we need not be con-formed to what Paul calls "this age"; that is, we need not be dominated by sin, death and the Law. Christ has freed us to live in the age to come, which he has already begun. And because Christ has freed us and invited us to share in the inaugurated kingdom, we can discern God's will. In Paul's perspective, discernment is not simply clear thinking coming to closure. Rather discernment has been made possible by what God has done for us in Christ. Discernment is our way of living in the inaugurated kingdom, in the age to come. Discernment is the way in which we shape our response to the freedom won for us by Christ. Freed for Life in the Spirit / 833 Christian life as continued worship, as living in the kingdom, as dis-cernment in response to Christ's gift of freedom -- these are the chief ele-ments in Paul's understanding of Christian life. Paul's exhortation continues: For by the grace that has been given to me I say to everyone among you not to think more highly than he ought to think but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith God has assigned to him (v. 3). Paul speaks sternly here. He wants the Christians at Rome to be more modest and realistic. He wants them to put an end to factionalism and com-petitiveness. He wants to deflate their pretensions. Nevertheless, Paul's way of deflating the Romans' pretensions is amazingly creative and positive. He does not downgrade them or criticize their abilities. Instead, he reminds them about the real source of their powers and indeed about the real source of his own power. In appealing to his own apostolic authority, Paul describes it as "the grace that has been given to me." In urging a more sober estimation of their own intellectual power, Paul tells the Romans to recall that whatever spiritual gifts they have were portioned out to them by God. So in the process of calling to task the Roman Christians, Paul insists on the gift that gives shape to all of Christian life. The fundamental gift of God is Jesus Christ. The ways in which that fundamerital gift is made concrete are themselves gifts. Thus the Christian community is the gathering of gifted persons, who all bear witness to God's most basic gift in Jesus Christ. On the one hand, Paul's doctrine of grace encourages humility, does a~ay with factionalism and competitiveness, and deflates pretensions. On the other hand, Paul's doctrine of grace underlines the "gift" character of Christian life, allows us to look on one another as gifted persons, and helps us to see our lives together as reflections of God's fundamental gift of Christ. No one can boast, precisely because all is gift. Life Together Paul continues: For as in one body we have many members, and all the members do not have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, members each one of the others (vv. 4-5). What coach, what director of a play, what overseer of a trip has not used the body analogy in order to urge greater cooperation among individuals? People of Paul's time were surely familiar with this analogy from a famous fable about the city as a body recorded by Livy. Thus our 834 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 own term, the "body politic." Indeed, there is no need to search for prece-dents or ancient parallels since the analogy is so easy. We all have bodies. Our bodies have many parts. When all the parts work together, each per-forming its proper function, we can accomplish our goal. When one part hurts or fails to function, the whole body suffers. The body analogy is so obvious that we could pass over it quickly if it were not for the small qualifying phrase "in Christ." We are one body in Christ. That is an enormously important qualification. What makes us a body of Christians is not a desire to win a game; or put on a play, or go on a trip: Christ makes us into a body. We become the body of Christ. The life that runs through us all, the spirit that animates us, the force that enlivens us is Christ. Therefore, as we live out our Christian lives as religious, we do so as members of the body of Christ.We are conscious that God has called us to this form of Christian life with other members of Christ's body. We have been called together as a way of responding to God's gift to us. As we work side by side, what we should try to see first and foremost is the life of Christ expressing itself in one another. Service Having laid his foundations about the nature of Christian life and having insisted on Christ as the 'basis of our communal life, Paul now considers the proper response to God's gift of freedom. For what have we been freed? We have been freed for service. In one Of the most tightly packed and meaningful sentences in the entire Pauline co~'pus, Paul says: "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them . . ." (v, 6a). This dense sentence summarizes Paul's approach to the place of service iri Christian life. In addressing the Romans, he assumes that all Christians are gifted ("having gifts"). The word for "gifts" here is charismata, the singular of which is charisma. But Paul does not use the word charisma as we do in our own day when we talk about charismatic politicians or movie actors -- those who have that certain undefinable something, that magic that makes them attractive to us, whose power comes from some unknown source. Paul knows the source of the Christian gifts. It is the Holy Spirit. Paul knows why Christians can do what they do. It is through the Holy Spirit. Paul knows why Christians do what they do. It is to build up the body of Christ. These gifts (charismata) are according to the grace (charis) given to us, By making this qualification; Paul reminds us that charisms flow from the fundamental grace, which is Christ. Charisms make concrete the grace of Christ. They are the means by which the grace of Christ expresses itself Freed for Life in the SpMt / 835 in our place and in our ~ime. These gifts differ. What sounds like an obvious statement on the logical level is not so easy to recognize in practice. Just as in a body the different members have different functions, so in the body of Christ there is astonishing variety.But sometimes variety is intimidating or frightening, and we want to shape others according to our own conceptions of what is good for them. Paul says no to all such attempts at imposing uniformity on the body of Christ. Variety must be respected not because it is refreshing or interesting but .because it witnesses to the marvelous power of God that can work through so many different instruments. "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us . " All of us are gifted. Our gifts are rooted in God's fundamental gift to us. Our gifts differ. The next and, indeed, necessary step is to use our gifts in service. God's gifts are not our personal possessions to be polished and stored away. They are not occasions for pride or boasting. God's gifts are to be used in free response to Christ our Lord~ Unlike most people today who understand freedom as the absence of any restraint upon them, Paul looked upon freedom as service under the only master worth serving. Whereas for many of our contemporaries "free-dom's just another word for nothing left to lose," for Paul freedom meant putting aside false masters for the sake of serving God and his people. Paul gives us some examples of service: ¯ . . if prophecy, according to the proportion of faith; if service, in service; he who teaches, in teaching; he who exhorts, in exhortation; he who shares, in simplicity; he who presides, in zeal; he who is merciful, cheerfulness (vv. 6-8). The list illustrates concrete ways in which God's gifts are made manifest. The'list includes prophecy, service (diakonia), teaching, exhortation, sharing, presiding or administration, and acts of mercy. I will not comrfient on each of these gifts.Nor do I suggest that we can bE satisfied with merely transferring them into the twentieth century. Nevertheless, the list is instructive fo? us on several counts. The emphasis is on activities rather than offices or the persons who hold the offices. Also, there is no discernible hierarchy in the list, unlike 1 Corinthians 12. All the activities are important. Moreover, there is a stress on the spirit in which the activities are carried out -- moving backward on the list, in cheerfulness, in zeal, in simplicity, and so forth. Paul reminds us that actions are more important than status or office, that all the charisms are significant and help toward the health of the body, and that much depends on the attitudes with which we carry out our activities. Prayer of Being: Intimacy at the Center David Hassel, S.J. ,, In this article Father Hassel continues his study of prayer and intimacy. The work he has done on this subject, much of which has appeared in our pages, is being gathered into a book entitled Dark Intimacy; Hope for Those in Difficult Prayer published in the near future by Paulist Press. Presbntly, Father Hassel, as Research Professor, is devoting him-self fully to writing, primarily in the area of philosophy. He may be addressed at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 N. Sheridan Road; Chicago, Illinois, 60626. People lose heart when God is drawing them into prayer of being, prayer of simple presence. Here is where people feel most useless to God and to themselves, most empty and unworthy of God. For this prayer is quite silent, ord!narily dry, sometimes hollow, angry-fearsome, briefly joyful, and lacking many former certitudes. If ever a praying person feels far from intimacy with God, it is at this critical growth-point of developing union with God. Here, then, such a person needs reassurance against diffidence. Perhaps assurance will be gained if this prayer of being is recognizably described within one's prayer experience, if its nature is revealed in Scrip-ture, if the disciplining action of this prayer can be sketched accurately, and if the way of living in this prayer can be clearly depicted. All these "ifs" form the strategy of this article. How to Recognize Prayer of Being Prayer of being, lying hidden underneath, at least three layers of expe-rience, has paradoxical features. Probably this is because the depth at which prayer of being occurs makes it describable only in limit-statements. The latter plot out the extreme boundaries of any mysterious experience; 836 Prayer of Being / 837 they do not offer a clear X-ray picture of its inner structure. For example, the first feature of thisprayer of being is its silence. It is gestureless, wordless. When one prays, there seems tobe no response, no sense of God's even hearing one's attempts to reach him. The silver arrows of one's petitions seem to hit the tabernacle and to fall shattered at its base. Praying becomes like the mocking echo of one's own voice when. shouting across.a river to a great bluff on the other side. At the same time, paradoxi-cally, the prayer may be noisy with distractions. One's mind feels like a huge warehouse at which gigantic "semi's" are unloading fresh cargoes of distractions on the warehouse dock and forklift trucks are delivering the boxes of distractions to the center of one's attention. Naturally, such distractedness is accompanied by dryness, the second characteristic of prayer of being. One feels no ready satisfaction, no lifts of the heart with joy. One gains no splendid insights to light up one's path; not even the tired insights of past years arise to illuminate the desert darkness. There is little or no heartfelt attraction for Christ, for Gospel reading, or for generous actions; there is only a certain blankness of mind and a wrinkled leathery feeling in the heart. Yet at the same time, after one has weathered the time given to this prayer (e.g., early in the morning) and started towards breakfast, one experiences a quiet worthwhileness and even a restored strength for the day's duties. These qualities are palpably missing when one omits this prayer; instead, one knows an indefinable seine Of loss and a certain lethargic heaviness. Of course, such experience seems somewhat hollow, the third feature of the prayer of being. The absence of satisfaction felt inside oneself is matched in one's outer activities. Hobbies, entertainment, daily work, favorite diversions--all seem strictly routine, not attractive, and rather superficial as though the silence and dryness of prayer had seeped into one's more exterior doings. Yet in the prayer of being itself and in these activities, there is a remote sense of fullness, as though through the deepest caverns of one's praying/working self there runs a great underground river. This remote fullness expresses itself indirectly when the praying person finds himself or herself saying: "Where else would I want to be than here? Nowhere else. What else would I rather be doing? Nothing else." What is this peculiar sense of rightness amid silence, dryness, and hollowness? Because the person now doing the prayer of being has already lived faithfully with the Lord not a few years, there is the fear that he or she is backsliding, is caught in a web of self-delusion. And yet the person may also feel deep anger towards God at the "unfairness of it all." This is the fourth feature of theprayer of being. For the individual begins to question: "What am I doing wrong that the Lord should be so distant?" And then 838 / Review for Religio'us, November-December, 1986 begins some rummaging around in the past for a disastrously wrong deci-sion, a fatal flaw of character, a refused grace of strategic importance. For example, a retreatant was asking these questions of himself from the fifth to the nineteenth day of his. Ignatian thirty-day retreat and came upon this answer on the nineteenth day: "This retreat is a fraud; your life leading up to this retreat has been equally fraudulent; in fact, you've been embezzling yourself from adolescence till now." On recounting this dazzling insight to his director, the latter said to him: ''Be sure to keep up this type of question-ing. And don't for a moment trust yourself, others, me, or God." This response shocked the retreatant into recognizing both the superficial evi-dence that provoked the questioning and the serenity he experienced deep at the center of his being--paradox of paradoxes. Even as he felt whirled about in swirls of confusion, he also knew that in the depths of his being he was resting at home with the Lord in the center of the universe. He felt like the weather-pilot who had been fighting a bucking plane through the tornado and now has suddenly broken into its quiet eye. But where there is fear, there is often also an accompanying anger. Frustrated with my work, my family, my own self, and embarrassed by my anger at God for all this frustration, I am restless, eager to break out of this suffocating cocoon of self. 'Repulsed by, my negative mood, by the stark vision of my sins .and limitations, by my own littleness compared to God's greatness, I experience a profound, but false sense of guilt. For I have forgotten that one gets most deeply angry only with those one loves best and that to be angry with God is to take seriously his goodness and his providence. Anger with a friend (even with God) can be a secret compliment. ~ Thus the angry Jeremiah felt free to call God to his face "a treacherous brook" (Jr 15:18) and to accuse the Lord of duping him (Jr 20:12). For this reason guilt at my anger is a false guilt, which acts like a suit of armor so that I cannot feel God's touch. Even if I did feel his touch I would deny it, because "what god would want to deal with me." Yet eventually, as a fearful, angry person who is doing the prayer of being, I find myself repeating the words of the fiercely angry prophet in the Book of Lamenta-tions: "The favors of the Lord are not exhausted, his mercies are not spent. They are renewed each morning, so great is his faithfulness" (3:22-23). Amid all this confusion, there are occasional leaps of the heart at God's dim presence. They are very brief and widely spaced, with only.a rare moment when he seems to take over completely. Prayer of being, then, is not one long, monotone bore, A person can, however, overlook these quick touches of the Lord. Once a directee confessed: "If I had not kept a daily diary of this dry prayer Prayer of Being / 839 of mine, I would have complained that God was completely absent these past fifty days. But when I read back, I found four or five spots where the Lord made his presence felt for a few moments." Of course, this informa-tion makes quite a difference not only to the directee but also to the director. Soprayer of being is not a state of prayerlessness; its fifth feature is the Lord's quiet signaling of his companionship in our fears and anger. There is, nevertheless, in this prayer of being a gradual loss of youthful certainties. This constitutes the sixth characteristic of the prayer of being. One feels quite uncertain about so many things: political issues, the nature of holiness, the future of the United States, theological schools of thought, personality theories, economic cure-alls, long-standing family arguments, the proper raising and education of one's children, and so on. This deep wondering issues not so much from tired cynicisms as from a new sens( of mystery. Too often the failure of simple solutions has proved the myste-rious complexity of a person or of a situation, or of some vast plan of social improvement. Sometimes the praying person mistakes the deep wondering at such failures fora faith-loss---especially when a glance at the vine of one's apostolate seemingly reveals only shrunken grapes. A compelling temptation can then arise to find new works to do, new people to consult, new plans to promote. There can be even tears at this point though one is not sure why they come frustration, hope, self-pity, consolation? The most acute sufferings occur when the praying person feels seating doubt about whether he or she can love anyone fully, or be lovable to anyone else. And yet as the praying person descends deep into the self without knowing what lies ahead, there is no desire to go back up, even though the darkness seems to be heavier, for one experiences a strange contentment with the, situation--because one feels loved intimately. Does Prayer of Being Deny Intimacy? These six characteristics of prayer of being: silence, dryness, hollow-ness, fearsome anger, rare inbursts of joy, and loss of certainties would seem almost to deny the presence of any intimacy in this prayer. But the opposite is true. First of all, only by going through the various stages of prayer which require deep intimacy (one-to-one prayer, forgiveness, sinful-ness, apostolic more, and powerlessness) can one enter into the prayer of being. To declare that these stages of intimacy lead only to non-intimacy is to join the absurdist philosophers in stating that the human person is a living contradiction for self-destruction. In fact, the state of dryness charac-teristic of prayer of being is normal to all prayer, just as it is the normal 840 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 condition of any human relationship. It is the state lying between the extremes of consolation and desolation, just as the dryness in marriage or in work is the normal feeling between the ecstacy of love or of high success and the despair of lost love or bankrupt business. Dryness in prayer is the balanced state for enduring well everyday living. It is a secret strengthening joy; it is that sustaining intimacy which arises out of suffering well the everyday routines of prayer and life. Indeed, dryness is very instructive for the praying person. It forces the one who prays to distinguish the various levels of human experience, to enter their depths, to learn, more accurately what passive prayer is, and finally to develop a faithfulness to God which is more independent of consolations or desolations, of elations or depressions, and of subjectively estimated successes and failures. Let us glance at the levels of human experience so as to better under-stand dryness in prayer. There is, first, a superficial level, which consists of pleasures and pains present to our awareness like the constant purr of an air conditioner, the heavy perfume of lilacs, the irritation of a skin rash or a raspy voice, the comforting warmth of a May.sun or the soft touch 9f an April breeze and shower. The first level, then, is a constant stream of sensual impressions, the context of life. Underneath this is a second level of deeper experiences, such as the constant ache of neuralgia, or the deep pleasure of loving interchange, or the delight of solving a perplexing business problem, or the lyric leap of an evening at the symphony, or the exuberant planning for the first baby, or the panic fear of a flashing knife. This second level is more meaningful, and it lends depth to the first one. But underlying both these levels is a still more profound set of expe-riences which make up the third level. It is on this level that one experiences the enervating worry at not having a job, the satisfaction of affectionate family living, the sorrow of watching the alcoholic spouse struggle for respectability, the fulfillment of a project successfully completed which demanded ten years of one's life, the sense of worthwhileness in the costly sacrifice for one's beloved. At this third level, a person's deepest hopes are raised or dashed, a person's finest joys are brought into full bloom, a person's crushing sorrows test the stamina of one's very being. Believe it or not, there is also a fourth level, which is the dynamic basis of the three higher levels of experience. Although the top three levels are directly knowable to the subject, this fourth level is discovered and known' only indirectly, that is, only in contrast with the other three. Thus, a woman can be in good health on the first level, can enjoy a full family life on the second level, can see her role in life as richly meaningful on the third Prayer of Being / 841 level, and yet be restless and pain-filled on the fourth level. If it were not for this dramatic contrast with the top three levels, .she could not possibly come to know the fourth level as part of her experience. This revealing contrast can also occur in the opposite manner. A man may be suffering from a fourteen-day cold on the first level, may feel misunderstood by the family on the second level, experience sharp doubt on the third level about his ability to handle his new and complicated position in the corporation--and yet be peaceful at the fourth level, under-neath the disturbing events of the top three. He could well find himself asking: "What's wrong with me? I should feel depressed and desolate, but I don't. Am I becoming schizoid? Or have I lost interest in my family and my career?" But this startling contrast lets him know, if he reflects on it, that there is a fourth level of his experience, one known only by contrast with the upper three levels. This long explanation is meant to lead to the conclusion that great dryness of prayer at the top three levels of experience can be accompanied by a serene peace and sense of personal worthwhileness lurking underneath at the fourth level. Such a discovery lights up prayer of being, since such prayer happens at this fourth level where one comes into contact with one's being, one's fullest identity. Here, too, is the best rendezvous-point for meeting God. As any prayer which leaves us feeling powerless indicates: God is the one doing the praying in us; and he starts it at the fourth level, then lets it percolate up through the other three levels. In prayer of being, however, God may shut off this percolation into the top three levels. When this happens, one can find God only indirectly, through the contrast of the upper three levels with the fourth-level. At this point the praying person finally recognizes that he or she is totally at the mercy of God's initiative. Again, he or she more sharply appreciates the need to be more pa~ssive under God's action. Most of us, nonetheless, fight hard to be the active senior partner in prayer, and so we struggle mightily On the top three levels to keep control. At the first level we may try new vocal prayers, new Zen techniques, new spiritual reading books; at the second level we may try to pump up old emotions we once felt and duly inscribe in our spiritual diaries, or we may review magnificent panoramic insights of our personal salvation history. On the third level, we may investigate our motivations for being good family people, for becoming career enthusiasts, for entering the life of religious vows, for being unmarried or married, for being lazy or aggres-sive, for being liberal or conservative, and so on. In other words, to avoid the passivity of prayer, we strain to climb the sheer glass mountain of mystery by our fingernails. Inevitably we end up at 842 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 the bottom of the mountain, looking at our bloody hands. Slowly it dawns on us that maybe only God can lift us to the top of the glass mountain, that we have to rest passive in his hands as he lifts us gently and gladly, that only after we admit our total dependence on him, will he lift us to the top of the mountain. We learn, then, what the passivity of prayer is: letting God do the praying in and through our four levels of experience, while we simply furnish ourselves--and some basic conditions for prayer, e.g., time carefully set aside, some reading of Scripture and other spiritual works, a reverent body-position, a readiness to go in prayer wherever the Lord leads, and so on. These conditions God can use or not use as he sees fit. There is a third result of recognizing thi.s fourth level: because of dry7 ness at the upper three levels, one develops a faithfulness to God which is more independent of consolations or. desolations, of elations or depres-sions; one becomes aware of the constant presence of God in this fourth level. There, likea great underground river, he quietly nourishes all one's activities on the top three levels, rendering the praying person serene in the sure direction of the fiver, and letting the person know that he or she is never alone, never far from the center of the universe. This quiet reas-surance can occur in the midst of the most joyful, or the most sorrowful happenings on the upper three levels, and thus it nurtures the wholesome independence of the praying person. So it is no surprise that the person finds the edge taken off deep fears, fierce angers dampened down, and pestering doubts stilled. Thusprayer of being is never a lonely experience, since it is a constant, indirect awareness of God at one's deepest level of experience, at the center of one's being. In this way, divine being speaks within the individual person's being. Paradoxically, such communion is wordless at this silent depth. It is a simple presence to each other like that between long-married partners who have great mutual devotion to each other. In this one-to-one awareness, God and the praying person have, by a kind of osmosis, an underlying, indirect appreciation of each other rather than a direct face-to-face meeting as in the beatific vision. Their co-pres.ence is more by being than by insightful action or by tangible feeling. It is as though the praying person reaches behind his or her back to touch God. For each affects the other by pure presence of being, as happens when people are aware of each other even though separated by oceans and mountain ranges. Because this presence is so deep and subtle, it takes long years and much experience for the average praying person to recognize its potential for intimacy. Such mutual awareness is a beingrfor-the-other. This has a rema~:kable effect on the human partner. He or she finds greater empathy for other human beings at a deep level of experience, namely, that of being, of Prayer of Being / 843 radical person-hood. It is this which enables the praying person to enter more profoundly into the routinized lives of God's marginal people, to feel more deeply the emptiness of their sometimes meaningless lives, and the gestureless silence of their listless suffering. As a result the person in prayer of being becomes more ready to sacrifice, more apostolic in intent, in order to fulfill the needs of the Lord's anawim. Perhaps this is the cosmic com-passion of which Christ speaks: "Love your enemies, pray for your persecu-tors. This will prove that you are sons of your heavenly Father, for his sun rises on the bad and the good, he rains on the just and the unjust. In a word, you must be made perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:44-48). Because this prayer of being issues in close union not only with God but also with his marginal people, it leads to a dynamic compenetration of the two great commandments: to love God is to love neighbor and vice vers~a. In this way, prayer of being becomes like the background music permeating my consciousness as I wait for a client or work over financial accounts or have my teeth cleaned or do housework and gardening. It is a quiet, strengthening, enlivening presence which I may even take for granted until its temporary shutoff leaves me cold and bereft. Perhaps better, it is like a long-term friendship highly prized yet often taken for granted because it has always been the~:e to guide, envigorate, and challenge me, and, finally, to assure me of a happy future in serving others. Thus prayer of being, if it is anything, is a new depth of intimacy not only with God and self but also with all other human beings. Prayer of Being in Scripture Prayer of being is profoundly embedded in Scripture. Among the multiple translations of 'the divine name Yahweh in the Old Testament is: "he-who-is-for-others." Since Yahweh is the continuing creator and perdur-ing animator of all things, he clearly lives up to his name. He literally brings all things into being out of nothingness and then remains in them to pulse their existence constantly lest they sink back into nothingness. He is being for all other beings. It is no wonder, then, that in theprayer of being, the praying person becomes so sensitive to nothingness or emptiness at the same time as he or she notes the fullness of being around and in him or her. Yahweh, nonetheless, is not satisfied with this degree of intimacy within all created beings. Out of all the nations, he selects the weakest, that motley throng of mixed breeds from Egypt called the Israelites, and begins to form them into his people. To do this, he makes a covenant with them; they are to be his people and he, their God. Actually, it later becomes a marriage covenant since he comes to consider the Hebrew nation his bride. To 844 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 demonstrate this, he even tells Hosea, who had unfortunately married a woman turned prostitute, to remarry his bride. In this way is symbolized Yahweh's remarriage with his adulterous Israelite people, and so drama-tized the intimate relationship which Yahweh wants with the Hebrew peo-ple-- a relationshipfar beyond, yet built out of, the intimate relationship of creator and creature in being. Thus any turning of the Hebrew people to another or false God is considered nothing less than adultery--to be pun-ished, for example, by the great exile of 587 B.C. Such being-for-others (Yahweh himself) makes understandable why the second person of the Trinity would be sent into the womb of Mary to become the Jesus of history. The Christ intimately immerses himself in the being and life of his Jewish family, his town of Nazareth, and his country of Palestine. Jesus becomes. Jewish from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Thus he literally is the wedding covenant of Yahweh with the Hebrew people; his very flesh and all his historical actions are divine and human, Godly and Jewish, inextricably. In this way, the God-man can enter into and share our gestureless, wordless silence in the hidden life of Nazareth, our dryness from routinized lives in his daily handyman tasks, our felt hollowness from self-emptying sacrifices for those dear to us (Ph 5:2-7), our fears ("My soul is troubled now, yet what should I say-- Father, save me from this hour?" [Jn 12:27]), and our angry frustrations ("What an unbelieving and perverse lot you are! How long must I remain with you? How long can I endure you?'[Lk 9:41]). He also shares our rare leaps of joy ("At that moment Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit"ILk 9:12]), and our hollowness felt at the center of our beings (Jesus sleeping the sleep of exhaustion in the storm-tossed boat). He knew all the ingredients of being human; he, too, did theprayer of being in relation,to the Father. In his bones and nervous system Jesus felt his being-for-others at the three upper levels of his experience. This being-for-others is best seen, however, in his joy at the fourth level underneath his passion at the upper-three levels. The seven last words of Christ express an exquisitely beautiful and expensive intimacy. When Jesus said: "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me. Weep for yourselves and for your children" (Lk 23:28), could he have been other than a being-for- others amid terrible dryness and felt fear? When he cried out: "Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing" (Lk 23:34), was he not a being-for-others amid the deaf silence of his crucifiers? When he turned his head towards Dismas to say: "This day you .will be with me in paradise" (Lk 23:43), was he not a being-for-others in the brief joy of this moment? When he looked to Mary and John and said: "Woman, there is your son; [son,] there is your mother" (Jn 19:28), was he not a being-for- Prayer of Being / 845 others emptying himself of his last possession? When he screamed out: "I am thirsty" (.Jn 19:28), was he not revealing that his being-for-others felt hollow and dry in its helplessness? When he spoke to the Father appeal-ingly: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Lk 15:34), was he not a being-for-others feeling the loss of cherished certainties? When in a final burst of profound trust he shouted: "Father, into your hands I com-mend my spirit~' (Lk 23:46), was he not a being-for-others stripped down to nothing but trust, having given over to the Father all that was dear to him: Mary, the apostles, Mary Magdalen and the other loyal women, his work of the past thirty-five or so years, and the whole future of his Church? Underneath this crush of even~ts commemorated by Jesus' seven last words, underneath the excruciating agony of the physical, psychological and spiritual levels of Christ's ex.perience, is the fourth level of his joyous strength in the Father's love for him, and in the beautiful "background music" of the Father's tender, caring affection for him. For the death of Christ on the three top levels was simultaneous with the subdued resurrec-tion on the fourth level. This was Christ's continual prayer of being within the Paschal mystery. Has there ever been such intimacy in suffering and joy as that of Christ with the Father and with his people? Thus is revealed dimly the structure of the prayer of being beneath its previous paradoxical features. As Letter,to the Hebrews notes: "For the sake of the joy which lay before him he endured the cross, heedless of its shame" (12:2). The Terrible Liberating, ~iscipHne Of the Prayer of Belng Theprayer of being, therefore, carries within it a terrible, yet beautiful, discipline: the willingness to suffer for what is right and just, true and good. The author of Heb~rews put~ ihe meaning of discipline .bl.untly for us:~ "Endure your trials as the discipline of God who deals with you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you do not know the disciplineof sons, you are not sons but bastards" (12:7-8). Evi, dently God disciplines his people out of affection by allowing them to suffer. As a result, aware of powerlessnes.s, they can be endowed with his power without any fear that th, ey wohld claim this power to be their own. Chapters six to nine of Deuteronomy illustrate how a ,terrible discipline prepares for intimacy with God, for prayerof being. There God declares: "You shall not put the Lord to the test" (6:16), that is, demand that he act in your way at your time and place. Clearly, "It was not because you are the largest of all nations that the Lord set his heart on you and chose you, for you are really the smallest of nations. It was because the Lord loved you" 846 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 (7:7-8); in your littleness you do not set the music of the dance with God. "For forty years now the Lord, your God, has directed all your journeying in the desert, so as to test you by affliction and find out whether or not it was your intention to keep his commandments" (8:2); ". the Lord, your God, disciplines you even as a man disciplines his son" (8:5); ". [lest] you become haughty of heart and unmindful of the Lord" (8:14). God's guid-ance through the desert (of prayer of being) may seem directionless to us and may seem to undermine our certainties. But our trustful following keeps us from the crazy deviations of pride and of secret contempt for God's providence. This discipline of the prayer of b'eing is necessary because "otherwise you might say to 3)ourselves, 'It is my own power and the strength of my own hand that has obtained for me this wealth'" (8:17). "No, it is not because of your merits or the integrity of your heart" (9:5). This last statement is strangely reassuring for the person doi.ng prayer of being and feeling virtueless, angry, fearful and empty. Such a person has reason to hope because Christ anticipated this: "Son, though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when perfected, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him" (Heb 5:8-9). There is, therefore, a scripti]ral basis for the discipline found in prayer of being. This discipline itself, though painful, is actually a liberation produced by the prayer of being. This liberation, however, is not a secret contempt for the bodily and the sensual; such would be a disincarnation, not an incarnation, of Christ. Nor is this liberation the ability to leave a beloved person or a f~ivorite place-possession-job-ambition without suffering regret; this would be more a cold self-centeredness that is ready to detach itself only in order to grab something or someone better. Rather this liberation is: 1) a willingness to be separated from what one loves for the sake of the beloved without ever ceasing to love this beloved' (seeing off the mis-sionary friend withoUt hope of ever meeting again); 2) a'willingness to let someone dear grow freely without trying to control, even though this means great suffering for both (the parent letting the stubborn twenty-year-old make a d(astic mistake in choosing a job--for the sake of his growth in wisdom); 3) a willingness to risk everything to put God or another person ahead of one's business, sporting succesg, work, comfort, or career, even as one continues tO pursue these ventures; 4) a willingness tO choose the good consistently, i

Issue 50.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1991. ; Review fOl~ Religious Volume 50 Number 4 July/August 1991 P()STMAS'I'I'.'ll: Send mhh'c.~.~ chang~'s Io Rl.:Vll.:W 1.~ nt ll,.:i.i~ ;i, ~i,s; P.(). Box 6071); l)llhli h, M N 55806. .~lll~scriplioll raics: .~illglc c.py $3.51) plus lll~lililig 1991 RI.:VIEW I)avid L. Fleming, ~.l. Philip C. Fischen S.I. Michad G. I-hzrter, ~.l. Elizabeth Mcl)omm~h, 0.1: Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Edilor Asxocial~" Cammical Co.nsc/Edilor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. July/August 1991 Volume 50 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~vl~w rot R~lous; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Elizabeth McDonougb, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ° ST.LOu1S, MO 63108 1-91" PRISMS. The word ordinary seems to imply the bland, the unexciting, the run-of-the- mill, the everyday. In fact, for many of us even the liturgical year of the Church suffers from being divided into two parts: the Seasons and Ordinary Time. Although liturgy properly speaks of our celebrations, we tend to find it hard to celebrate what is called ordinary. Perhaps the very distinction which the Church highlights in so dividing the liturgical year calls us to a deeper reflection upon our understanding of the ordinary. God creates the ordinary., and calls it good. It is true: the ordinary is the very substance of our world. While being itself God's cre-ation, the ordinary is also the substance with which God works. We, by being ordinary, can be touched and molded and transfigured by God. Often we try to escape from being ordinary, and in the process we shut ourselves off from being available to God's action in our lives. In the bibli-cal accounts of creation, we find the lure of an escape from the ordinary the root crisis of properly using our God-given freedom. The story of Lucifer and the fallen angels is a story of beings discontent with being ordinary. As they try to move beyond the ordinary by shutting out God, this becomes their hell. So, too, the story of Adam and Eve is a story of two people, in the freshness of human life, already desirous of escaping the ordinary--to be like gods. Sacramentally we are reminded that God continues to take the ordi-nary- water, bread and wine, oil--to make extraordinary contact with us. Even when our prayer or the spirituality we live is--try as we may---ordi-nary, we thus have the very quality which allows it to become the vehicle of God's action. The difficulty for us in accepting the ordinary is not just from an inherent human tendency to want to be noticed and praised, but also from the graced impetus to strive, to struggle, to desire to grow beyond where we are. How are we to distinguish these spirits within us, distinguish move-ments that would lead us to close ourselves off to God by our self-focus from movements whereby God is drawing us ever closer in our surrender? Our writers in this issue provide us with various approaches to a lived answer. John Wickham goes right to the heart of our reflections in the lead article by focusing on our choice of being "just ordinary." McMurray and Conroy and Kroeger turn our gaze to the whole complexus of activities 481 482 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 which make up our spirituality--how do we work at making a spirituality our "ordinary" life-source? A different question is posed by Samy and Fichtner when they ask whether the ordinary practices which we find in a spirituality which is not Christian can be an aid in our openness to God. Vest and Schwarz and Gottemoeller draw our attention to various aspects of the ordinary Christian lay life as influenced by a spirituality which is described as monastic, by a new kind of membership relation to a traditional religious congregation, or by a new responsibility within the institutions formerly identified with a particular religious order. In the midst of some of the liturgical renewal stimulated by Vatican II, the practice of a daily Eucharistic celebration has sometimes been a point of dispute, especially among those priests and religious whose congregational rule or custom clearly called for such observance. The confusion often turned on what was celebratory and what was ordinary or daily. John Huels weaves his way through various schools of thought in order to provide a group with a whole cloth of ordinary spiritual practice. Although contemplative life in its dedicated form is recognized as truly a special calling in the Church, Clifford Stevens would have us all draw some nourishment today from its age-old sources. And finally, four different writers--Navone, Monteleone, Seethaler, and Billy--lead us further along in the most common activity of human interaction with God, our attempt at praying. As portrayed in the gospels, Jesus had to spend a lot of his efforts both in his ordinary apostolic life and then again in his resurrected life to prove his ordinariness. He gets tired, he eats and drinks, he needs friends, and he takes time to pray--all ordinary activities for us humans. And yet it was in these very ordinary dealings that God is fully present to us in Jesus Christ. Perhaps the part of the Church year we call "ordinary time" is a necessary reminder to us of how God wants to work with us. David L. Fleming, S.J. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" John Wickham, S.J Father John Wickham, S.J., is a member of the Upper Canada Province of the Society of Jesus. He is the author of The Common Faith and The Communal Exercises (Ignatian Centre in Montreal): His address is Ignatian Centre; 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec; Canada H4B 2A7. There is something new, I believe, about the feeling often experienced today of being "just an ordinary person." Many recurrently feel that way despite their natural gifts, highly developed skills, or honored positions. Nor do they need to deny those advantages. In contrast to what others may tend to think, or what the world expects of them, their subjective experience of themselves--what it feels like from within their own skins--is that of a worthwhile even if unfinished, rather unique and yet uncertainly striving, interesting enough but still "just ordinary" life. It is midway between what is heroic and what is base. It is not very glamorous, but neither is it paltry. Its special taste, which is quite different from these alternatives, makes it a rather new kind of experience. If at times we do recognize that experience in ourselves, then we may face a range of questions. Should I accept the feeling as a true and good one? Or would I be better off without it? Should I choose it so often and persis-tently that it becomes habitual for me? Or would that turn into an inauthentic pose? Should I try to find some part of my real identity there? And what exactly would that imply? For example, would it mean I am choosing to be mediocre? The fact that a feeling arises, St. Ignatius tells us, does not prove it to be from God. The latter point needs to be discerned. And kinds of feeling that become widespread in a given society need to be discerned just as much as do feelings that arise only in a particular individual. In fact, our faith com-munities must often set themselves against cultural trends in the world around them. 483 484 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 In order to get at underlying issues, I wish to consider this topic in two stages. The first will be restricted to the phenomenon itself of a "just ordi-nary" feeling as a secular event in our world. Only then will I turn to the sec-ond stage, namely, to take up the kinds of faith response which we might wish to give it today. The first part, then, attempts an analysis of the "feel-ing." The second considers when, or in what circumstances, we might "choose" in faith to make it our own. Our New Cultural Situation To rephrase my opening statement, I believe that a "just ordinary" feel-ing about oneself is somewhat new as a more widespread and recurrent experience in Western culture. In recent years nearly everyone I have spoken to about this has nodded at once and said, "Yes, that's exactly how I often feel." While I possess no statistical data on its prevalence, my impression is that quite a few people have come to recognize its presence in themselves. Let me try to locate this experience more precisely. I am referring to something secular in origin and not necessarily Christian or religious in itself. Like God's rain and sunshine, it may affect everyone, just :and unjust, believer and unbeliever alike. Perhaps it was triggered off by the countercultural movement of the nineteen-sixties, since during the seventies commentators often pointed out the exaggerated attention then being given to inner feel-ings- to the personal self of each one apart from their external involvements. At that time many were being thrown back upon their subjective states of awareness to a degree that had rarely happened before. The seventies were called the "Me Decade," one that belonged to the "Me Generation" whose subjective responses (often referred to then as "getting in touch with your feelings") were given unprecedented emphasis and publicity. What had previously been mostly private now became blatantly public. But perhaps during the eighties not only the novelty but some of the disturbing quality, too, of that rather messy explosion of "subjectivity" in our midst has worn off and subsided to a degree--enough to allow "just ordinary" feelings to rise to the surface and gain attention today. What had occurred, then, was an intensification of self-awareness, a heightening of subjective consciousness among much larger segments of our population than before, and even a thematization of this event in our culture. "Souls" had been transformed into "subjects." Individuals became persons. This had happened much earlier, of course, for some exceptional people and even for smallish groups here and there, but it had never before become such a widespread phenomenon. And it involves matters of considerable importance, not easily dis- Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 41~5 missed. Bernard Lonergan has written of "the shift to interiority" in the twentieth century as the emergence of a new "realm" of human reality, i At the opposite end of the scale, the usual wild and foolish misuse of a new gift by the more excitable members of society should not blind us to its underly-ing significance. That is the larger context. More in particular I wish to stress, first of all, the quieter reverberations which those noisy events have left with many per-sons today. The gift itself of interiority is multifaceted, of course, but a first approach would notice that in part it may belong with the newly "expressive self' which has emerged alongside, and often independently of, the older "utilitarian self.''2 While the latter continues to exert a dominant influence in our midst, it must now share the public table with a more mystical parmer. From a slightly different viewpoint the "just ordinary" feeling should be seen mainly as a response to the puritan "strong self' of modern culture. After the nineteenth century in the West we gained the capacity-- appropri-ate to a technocratic society---of developing our ego-strengths. That is, a cer-tain knack, at least for special purposes, of withholding or excluding deeper levels of feeling can free an individual to concentrate on impersonal obser-vations, accurate calculations, and carefully directed efforts of the will. Further development of this inner self-control is required for any kind of efficiency and productivity in the working world. It is clear that the requisite skills are not given by nature but must be culturally developed. Not only our workplaces but our schools and colleges, too, call insistently for the formation of habits (especially of technical reason and will) which enable entry into the competitive society with all the bureau-cratic ladders and graduated salary scales of a successful career---or not-so-successful, as the case may (more often) be. In contrast to this still urgent public arena of "strong selves," individual members also return to private worlds of rest, relaxation, and entertainment, to times of weakness when they may face their own ignorance about the questions posed to them in life and recogn!ze their lack of energy for the continual efforts required. Human beings, it should be stressed, when separated from their social roles and active commitments and thrown back upon their private resources, usually do not find a great deal of their own to sustain them. Modern urban ways have cut people off from the deeply penetrating and densely inter-twined supports of rural societies. As a result, the rootless city dweller becomes conscious of boredom, of empty times to be filled up, of personal neediness and spiritual hungers not easily satisfied. An individual person, after all, is usually endangered by too much isolation from others, and mod- 4~16 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 em technologies often weaken or destroy traditional communities (families, neighborhoods, parishes). Besides, whenever institutions let us down or defeat our aims, or when hurtful clashes disturb our feelings for others, we are left alone to deal with a diminishing present and a more uncertain future. That is when a loving spouse and intimate friends (if available)become essential to our very sur-vival; without them, depressed feelings all too easily turn to thoughts of nonexistence. It was the countercultural movement which reacted against the giant bureaucratic institutions of our world and forced into the broader stream of public life the previously underground resource of subjective feelings. It transformed leisure moments of the kind just mentioned into recurrent times of self-expression which are portrayed and celebrated in our electronic media. This revealed to large numbers of fairly well-off persons in Western societies that their interior selves need to be cultivated in ways that differ enormously from the older patterns of successful selfhood modeled for them in corporate institutions. The counterculture managed to give sustained pub-licity to a host of "alternative lifestyles"---that is, a diverse range of subjec-tive modes in self-identity and interpersonal relating. This vastly expanded "realm of interiority" provides a cultural context for, and is itself fostered by, many recent movements: affirmations of per-sonal rights, the reawakening of charismata, the turn to the East, the renewal of contemplative prayer traditions, and the broadly secular interest in spiritu-alities of all kinds. It is surpi'ising to notice how the word "spiritual" and its cognates have gained such widespread use not only in the arts but in sports, politics, business enterprises, salesmanship, the military--almost every-where today. In our faith tradition, on the other hand, the interior life had a much more restricted meaning. Medieval interiority was exclusively religious--the very opposite of anything secular or worldly. In order to develop one's union with God, according to the late-medieval Imitation of Christ, believers were expected to withdraw from external involvements--at least, from all the habits and attitudes belonging to them--and to cultivate an inner commu-nion with the Lord deep within their hearts. The Imitation, we should remember, is the most popular spiritual classic of all time.3 A crucial aspect of its teaching has to do with the personal self so poignantly revealed by means of a prolonged withdrawal of the kind rec-ommended. But when thrown back upon oneself in this way, what does one find? The oft-repeated answer to this question shows how bare the cup-boards of subjectivity can be: Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 487 This is the greatest and most useful lesson we can learn: to know our-selves for what we truly are, to admit freely our own weaknesses and failings.4 I am nothing, and I did not even know it. If left to myself, I am noth-ing; I am all weakness. But if you turn your face to me, [Lord,] I am at once made strong and am filled with new happiness.5 Oh, how humbly and lowly I ought to feel about myself, and even if I seem to have goodness, I ought to think nothing of it . I find myself to be nothing but nothing, absolutely nothing . I peer deep within myself and I find nothing but total nothingness.6 No doubt, older Christians today will recall teachings of this kind as familiar features of their early training. And some of its emphases tend to give us pause. What about the inherent goodness of each human self?. This was occasionally noticed in the Imitation, but should it not have received much more attention? On this question two historical points should perhaps be made. First, the Imitation itself arose from the Devotio Moderna's care for many ordinary members of society who desired to cultivate a devout life amid late-medieval disruptions of Christian Europe (the Black Death and subsequent plagues, persistent warfare, economic hardship, the Great Western Schism).7 Out of their prolonged experience of public calamities came this first popular expression of the personal subject in the West--at least, among the little seg-ments of the population influenced by the "new devotion." The point for us here is that a faith response to those troubled times made possible an interior life for many more persons than before (including lay members living in the world). An inner self could then be cultivated by means of the careful religious teachings extended to them by The Imitation of Christ and similar writings of the movement. Thus, interiority was initial-ly a sacred realm, not a secular one. In order to develop at all, it had to define itself against the secular world. This meant, of course, that the self had precisely "nothing" of its own to fall back upon--no widely accepted norms of individual worth had as yet been formulated. The themes of individualism which we take for granted today as "natural" were simply not available in the Middle Ages. The Devotio Moderna may, in fact, have contributed notably to the first social expression of our individual sense of self. It follows that to blame it for not supplying what it was in the very process of begetting seems misguided. That would be reading history backward--a frequent modern failing. Secondly, it seems that the difference between selfhood (a good sense of self) and selfishness (a bad sense) had not as yet been separately felt. In that 488 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 sacred milieu the differentiation of a secular goodness of creation apart from the fallen condition so frequently stressed in spiritual teachings remained for the future to bring about. In other words, the self-in-its-own-being could not possibly then have been "tasted" distinctly from the self-as-sinful or the self-as- saved-by-grace (or both together). True enough, humility was sometimes considered apart from habits of sinfulness--namely in Mary and in the saints--but even there what received emphasis was the divine grace of their redemption (in Mary's case extending to her prior preservation) from sin's more normal dominion. These excep-tions only proved the rule that humility--as we hear its accents in the Imitation--arises from the sharpened interior taste of one's sinful self that usually follows upon forgiveness. In view of this cultural moment of The Imitation of Christ in the early fifteenth century, its lack of any emphasis on natural goodness for the indi-vidual self is understandabl~. It is true that, by the later sixteenth century, Montaigne's Essays and Shakespeare's Hamlet and Richard II had begun to anticipate modem feelings of individual selfhood, but this was still an excep-tional happening within the sacred medieval precincts, it may be said. So many developments have taken place in the centuries since that time--the Cartesian ego, theKantian turn to the subject, the Romantic movement, nineteenth-century liberalism, as well as the already mentioned "shift to interiority" ~ind countercultural movement in our own century, that we cannot have recourse solely to a retrieval of medieval gifts. In short, the new interiority of our day differs a great deal from the "interior life" handed down to us in our spiritual tradition. The old interiority was (a) fully sacred in meaning, (b) defined in opposition to the "world," (c) low in self-esteem while high in reliance on God alone, and (d) rarely to be shared with others socially. By contrast, the new interiority is (a) mainly sec-ular in meaning, (b) defined against the mainline institutions of society (including those of the Church), (c) self-affirming and self-accepting, even if admitting one's need of friends and of the divine Other, and (d) eagerly shared with others in public lifestyles. Like many others, in my Jesuit formation I was often counseled to ignore, set aside, or "offer up" my individual feelings as distracting or, more likely, harmful to my fuller appropriation of the uniform spiritual teachings provided. These latter consisted in learning the general answers true for everyone alike and in keeping the rules set down for all without exception. That way of forming members, as we know, has been in great part aban-doned in recent decades. In any case, it had introduced painful distortions into our medieval heritage. Choosing to be 'Just Ordinary" / 489 The main "warp" in question was directly related, I believe, to the nine-teent~ h-century rise of the "strong self" already mentioned. Let me briefly review that development. As I have noted, humility had traditionally been ~'ocused on the sinful condition of those converted to the Lord. It did not dwell merely on mortal sins committed prior to their deeper conversion, but much more on the venial sins which they came to recognize in present self-awareness. This medieval tradition may be gathered in detail from Alphonsus Rodriguez's Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues.8 Against that backdrop the modem ideal of a "strong sell" to be fash-ioned in youth by anyone hoping to succeed in the secular world, or even to survive in it, presented a considerable contrast. Prior to 1965, our Catholic parishes and schools managed to combine this modem requirement (a strong selfhood formed in the conscious mind through repression of deeper feel-ings) With traditional teachings on humility (reliance on God alone because of personal sinfulness and the "nothingness" of self). This was made easier by means of the invisible wall erected around the distinctly Catholic world. By the later nineteenth century, of course, Christian faith had already become to a large extent privatized, separated from public life and domesticated in family and parish activities. For Catholics in North America, the immigrant Church had developed its own "garrison" mentality so effective!y that one could cultivate a traditionally humble self in the narrowly religious realm and at the same time a secularly aggressive self in the business, professional, political, or broadly social realm. That was the religious situation in which I was raised, and I did not then advert to its inconsistencies. Perhaps many others today can recall this com-bination of strivings. However opposite they were in character, we tried to attain them both and to some extent we succeeded--by the grace of God. In recent decades that whole effort has disappeared and as a result (among many other quandaries) a whole spectrum of possible selves has become available today. It is a somewhat unsettling set of choices. But amidst all our struggles to find or fashion personal identities (or perhaps to fortify older ways in the very teeth of these developments), the curious new event has made its presence felt--the "just ordinary" feeling. Contemporary Faith Responses At this point I wish to bring into our discussion a distinction rather dif-ferent from any mentioned so far. In a recent book, Hopkins, the Self and God, Walter Ong, S.J., has emphasized the "taste of self" which figured so prominently in Gerard Hopkins's poetry, letters, and notebooks.9 As a chap- 490 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ter on the Victorian context makes clear, the theme was not unusual even then. But Hopkins, because of his unique attention to it and extraordinary gifts of language and feeling, managed to anticipate many of our present concerns. The distinction employed by Fr. Ong in his discussion is between the self as "I" or "me" in the densely concrete, subjective stance underlying all one's experiences and, on the other hand, the self as objectified in various characteristics, habitual attitudes, and acquired abilities. Ong names the first of these "the subject-self' and the second "the self-concept"--a terminology already in use. More is meant than merely a difference between subjective and objec-tive qualities of the self. The so-called "objective" side points to an individu-al's attempts to gain a sense of developing identity--at first through the reactions :of other people, and then through one's own continued striving. Often a variety of contrasting possibilities are "tried on for size" and lived out for a time, but later modified or rejected. But underneath every such effort lurks a richer source of seifhood that unifies the ongoing and often interrupted sequence. Moreover, the subject-self also feels--at least indirectly--the inadequa-cy of whatever aspects of self-conception are presently entertained. The lat-ter are never quite right. There is always a certain sense of"more to come": Why do I doubt my capacity to keep this up any longer? Maybe I should change my mind about the whole business? Or am I trapped in a "fate" of being the way I am?l° And as soon as some new aspect of the self gains initial clarity, there is often a tendency to react in a different direction. Even if I should rejoice in a rather flattering or at least affirmative symbol of myself, my subconscious feelings may tend to exert a counterinfluence. Or if snubbed by others or blamed in any way, I might resent it at several levels at once (despite a ten-dency to self-doubt), but I will also search for memories of my better qualities. A great variety of varying patterns of such "identity searches" may be noted in spiritual direction. But what I wish to stress here is the unifying "I" in every pattern or in every sequence of changing patterns over years of per-sonal growth. "I" am the enduring (somehow even unchanging?) recipient, resource, and agent of all such reflexive feelings, perceptions, visions, and (as Eliot has taught us) endless revisions. For I am always the one who is unfinished. I exist amid processes that are ever moving me into uncertain futures. This mysterious "I" may be used, of course, in a way that includes the self-concept of my current identity. Most often the two blend together in my Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 49'1 experience of them. Wider, more inclusive self-affirmations are normal and even important. For the self-concept can never really be independent of the subject-self--the two functions are inherently connected and interactive. My various self-conceptions (especially at their least vague, most fully articulat-ed stages) need to be tested repeatedly in the subject-self. Do I feel at home in them? In fact, their authenticity becomes known only insofar as they truly actualize my subjectively felt potentials. On the other side, the subject-self cannot long endure without some kind of self-concept. Even when denied previous realizations in the social world, the subject-self may have recourse to fantasy roles in the theatre of imagina-tion. For I cannot avoid notions of selfhood altogether--my neediness finds relief only in the movement to some form of self-realization, however indi-rect, implied, or even self-sacrificial it may become for a time. But what is new today for many persons is that 'T' may recurrently refer quite exclusively to the subject-self alone. In such cases the needful relation to identities is not denied but somehow "bracketed out" or "put on hold." This distinction appears to be called for by what I have named the "just ordi- ¯nary" feeling. More precisely, the "just ordinary" feeling belongs especially to the subject-self. Now, this distinction may unlock several, of the puzzling questions which arise .from our cultural situation today. It might resolve the problem for all who try to decide whether or not--even precisely as a Christian-- they should choose to be "just ordinary." Not Mediocrity, but Limitation A first question to be faced concerns mediocrity. If one settles into a "just ordinary" feeling of oneself, would this not bring an end to growth, to any serious striving for improvement? Would it not ring the death knell of idealism (in a good sense)? Would it banish from the competitive society believers who chose to accept it--as though our economic system as such is inherently alien? Even more traditional spiritualities sought to refute the accusation that Christian faith necessarily inclined believers to accept the established pow-ers and to resign themselves to exploitation by cle4er elites (Marx's "opium of the people" view about the role of religion in society). But that false use of Christian faith is not in question here. If a devout life means acceptance of manipulation and coercion by others, then it has simply lost its roots in the prophetic teachings of Christ. Instead, what is relevant here is the insight that only the subject-self can feel "just ordinary." Such a feeling cannot rightly belong to the self-concept. 499 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 My position is that only insofar as one becomes aware of one's "purely" sub-jective selfhood in contrast to current or possible fulfillments of one's poten-tials (the self-concept always means that) does the "just ordinary" feeling arise in the first place. It would follow, then, that for persons who do not experience this newish feeling (and no one is required to do so!) a decision to be "just ordinary" might mean choosing to be mediocre. That is not the case, however, for those who do recognize the new feel-ing in themselves; what they experience, I would say, is a new sense of per-sonal limits. No doubt, our knowledge of limitations is pluriform. Each person would tend to stress different aspects of the overall human "contin-gency" (its more technical name) as this comes home to individual lives. Limits are reached in our work, our relationships, our different life-stages, our suffering of reverses, rejections, sickness, injuries, or close encounters with death and dying: Our knowledge and abilities have a great variety of limitations, but so do our energies and our capacity for making creative responses. There are traditional ways of coming to know and accept our littleness, but what I have in mind here gives a different resonance to these more familiar events. In Western cultures it may seem natural to invest one's whole identity in a career role, with its achievements, or with honors already received (here the "strong self" makes its presence felt). But against this tendency I find it possible, like Hopkins, to identify mainly with my subject-self--even though my developed talents, skills, and other acquisitions (whatever their true worth) may be kept in view. I do not deny the crucial importance of these factors in my life as a whole. But I know I could lose all use of them if I suffered a grave stroke or a debilitating heart attack, for example. And throughout that illness, whose effects could be long-lasting, I would contin-ue to experience myself as "me"--a limited person, unique in my special taste of self, the same as I was as a child and teenager, and surely to remain so until death. If I am unable to make this sort of self-identification, but insist on claiming my developed self-concept as the only true "me," the danger is that a debilitating illness may tend to destroy me altogether. And those who live into old age, even if they never suffer a health crisis of the dramatic sort mentioned, may eventually experience their subject-self as "just ordinary"-- stripped of any actual use of their various gifts. In traditional Christian teaching our need for reliance on God will nor-mally be heightened and dramatized by major experiences of suffering (',limit" situations). This will surely continue to exert a central influence on personal realizations of Christ's paschal mystery. The unusual note to be Choosing to be "Just Ordinary '" / 493 sounded here, however, concerns the dimension of selfhood which our cul-tural moment may be bringing alive. The 'T' whom Jesus calls and unites to himself, the "I" who undergoes spiritual deaths and who may then receive new life in the risen Lord--this 'T' may now choose to identify with "just ordinary" feelings rather than either "nothing" or "something good denied." It is a form of limited selfhood available today to a much larger number of persons than ever before. Humility in a New Key As cultural events bring forward different ways of experiencing not only the humanized world but also the human subject in and by whom the world is humanized, individuals growing aware of their own gifts are always exposed to new dangers from pride. In his "Two Standards," we remember, St. Ignatius highlights the time-honored medieval teaching that pride is the source and origin of every other vice, and that humility, as St. Bernard puts it, is "the foundation and safeguard of all virtues." It follows that the emer-gence of a "just ordinary" feeling raises another question: precisely what effect might this have on our traditional sense of what the virtue of humility requires? No doubt, the rise of modern democracies brought a stronger emphasis on equality into social relations in the West (in contrast to earlier ideals of "subordination," of submission to those in higher orders). Every member, rich or poor, is supposed to stand on the same ground, in a civil sense as well as "before God," as every other member. But this opened the way to compe-tition in the public "free marketplace," where the many levels of social clas-sification become even more clearly marked than in the premodern world. Personal evaluations and interpersonal judgments are so much more intense than previously that the "neurotic" society of our day has become familiar to US.11 In this context modern teachings on humility tended to stress the differ-ence between the office and the office holder. And this traditional distinction was often combined with a focus on teamwork or group contributions. In sports, the heroes who score the highest number of points, even the winning goals, humbly acknowledge the help of their teammates and the glory of the whole team, rather than their individual merits. In short, modern humility consists mainly in putting oneself down. Self-abasement, especially after some signs of achievement appear in the struggle for success over others, is felt to be essential. This means that humility and humiliation are closely approximated in modern competitive societies. But in the postmodern world (if that is where we are today) many are 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 beginning to sense their subjective distance from the very structures of suc-cess and achievement themselves. Perhaps this is why human vulnerability and powerlessness have received so much attention in recent years. If I am right in this--to some extent and for some members only, of course--then the "just ordinary" feeling would denote an ability to experience self-worth independently of competition for successful contributions in the established institutions of the world. When the feeling does mean that, I would argue in favor of seeking to realize it in one's life. This would not necessarily signify nonparticipation in the large struc-tures of society--whether in business, politics, sports, communications, or whatever. But it could qualify the style of our participation because our main sense of self would no longer consist in whatever we might be able to achieve. To gain this rather sophisticated balance, of course, might not always be easy. It would mean learning how to give one's whole energies to highly skilled performances without pinning one's sense of self to success in performing well. Whatever the-degree of success or failure realized over time, those who contribute would continue to experience themselves to be "just ordinary" members of a community which regularly affirms their worth on a basis other than that of competition, success, or failure. This would bring a newish tone, a new chord, I think, to the age-old music of humility. Sacred and Secular Community The "just ordinary" feeling may also raise a question because of its very secularity. Normally the Church lives in a certa{n state of tension with the secular society in which its witness to Christ's message is to be given. But the quality of that "creative tension" can vary a great deal. In our day the tension may disappear whenever a new secular discovery affecting human growth is announced in a book or magazine, or its virtues are proclaimed in the media. It may then be taken up by skilled practitioners and made available in local programs. In recent decades we have received many such gifts. An example might be the interpretation of dreams by means of Jung's psychological theories. This can become quite an interesting activity, valu-able in itself. But there is a danger that believers who are attracted to it may then transfer most of their religious energies to essentially secular programs of this kind (think, too, of the many self-help groups claiming attehtion today) and thereafter give little attention to more central Christian practices. In particular, our own question concerns the "just ordinary" feeling. Is it another "brand-new discovery" of the type just mentioned? Does it not sug-gest a secular facet of human life which may all too easily replace more Choosing to be 'Just Ordinary" / 495 authentic 'teachings? Are we simply "shaking holy water" on secular objects and calling them Christian? I would reply that, while its potential misuses are undeniable, its right use may also be safeguarded if the underlying issue is kept clearly in sight-- the issue of the human call to transcendence. I will conclude this essay by exploring that deeper concem. At one level we remember that any new discovery may be claimed by Christian faith because all that is human belongs to God the Creator. Thus, we may recognize and welcome every fresh gift of human expertise, inte-grate it within the larger faith (making it subordinate, not dominant), and in this manner sanctify all things in Christ. No doubt this should be so. But at a deeper level of analysis the question arises in a new form because secularity (secular realities taken in a good sense, as differing from secularism) is always related to the sacred as its opposite. In this way Judaism and Christianity themselves initiated a radical process of secularization. For us the world is no longer "full of gods" since we believe in the one Creator who is beyond all created things (transcen-dent). Our faith has secularized the cosmos. Later on in history the civilized world, too, took further giant steps on the same journey. In great part today our political, economic, social, and cultural institutions are experienced not as immediately God-given but as humanly devised. In this more radical sense, then, whenever ongoing secularization enables a new gift of human life to be realized, the sacred powers of tradi-tional faith need to be adapted to the new situation. What had formerly been handled indirectly by religious beliefs has now come directly (even if incom-pletely) under human management. In faith we may welcome such events as fulfillments of God's intentions in creating humans "in his own image and likeness" (that is, cocreative with him). But we also note an important clue: there should be no change in secularity without a corresponding change in sacrality. The frequent failure here is a simple transfer of energies from the sacred into the secular realm while reducing religious operations to empty words alone. More specifically, if the emergence of "just ordinary" feelings can bring new aspects of human existence within the range of human competency, then we may rejoice in this prospect on condition that a corresponding, positive change occurs in our sense of specifically sacred gifts. But if the change should be merely negative, a loss of religious energies, then something has gone wrong. For example, the work of Carl Rogers and others on self-actualization and self-realization has an obvious bearing on our topic, but even here the 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 "just ordinary" feeling takes the process a step further, I think. All of these factors, we should remember, are secularizations of human powers which previously had been contained or implied within sacred gifts. 12 In Gerard Hopkins's poetry the sacred envelope remained untorn: Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves--goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying What I do is me: for that I came. I say more: the just man justices; Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces; Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is-- Christ--for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his . 13 Even more to the point are his famous closing lines in another poem: In a flash, at a trumpet clash, I am all at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, Is immortal diamond. 14 The eternal worth to be realized at last in Christ is anticipated by a believer who knows his subject-self as "poor potsherd" and "matchwood." Surely this comes close to our "just ordinary" feeling even if its validation depends on faith in the resurrection. If we look back to Hopkins, we can per-ceive its secular potentials lurking within his very religious lines. In any case, now that it has emerged to stand on its own feet in our midst, we are challenged to respond afresh in faith to a new aspect of human self-realization. We may rejoice inthis event, but without a positive religious response of some kind the 16ss of transcendence becomes palpable. We may happily accept the growth of a human value, but its simultaneous excision from religious meanings calls for new initiatives, for real adaptations which do not downgrade the relevance of our transcendent faith but rather give it fresh impetus, redirecting its energies in new ways. Two principles may be l~ormulated in this regard. I have already been exploring the first of these, which might be put as follows: The Principle of Adaptation: Every new growth of secular competence should stimulate a corresponding renewal of sacred powers. The second may'be named: The Principle of Intensity: In our creative response to a given process of secularization, one important criterion would be a specific heighten-ing, rather than any lessening, in the experience of transcendence. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 497 Whenever the Christian component is subtly reduced to a comfortable repetition of now irrelevant phrases, this second principle has been ignored. The urgency of transcendent faith for human affairs can easily be diminished without any advertence to its loss. Our "just ordinary" feeling, for example, simply cries out for creative faith responses. But what are these to be? That is the real issue. Will our sense of Christian humility be intensifie~l instead of being replaced? What fresh meaning can we now give to the crucial "poverty of spirit" which indicates membership in the Lord's kingdom? The heightened subjectivity that often seems to afflict us may also serve to awaken creative potentials previously unknown. Even though it makes us experience our human limits as never before, our acceptance of "just ordi-nary" feelings could, in fact, lead to new dimensions of liberation. But this will not be automatic. Our spiritual behavior will need to adjust itself cre-atively to the new gift. Possible responses are always at hand. Whenever in faith the members of our new communities reflect upon the significance of feeling "just ordinary" togetherl I believe the Real Presence of the risen Christ may receive a fresh emphasis. This heightened communal awareness may correspond in a unique way to our traditional poverty of spir-it. Precisely here a new intensity of faith may be gathering force. During the nineteen-twenties T.S. Eliot insistently employed the symbol of the Angelus bell, a traditional reminder of the moment of Incarnation. In that extraordinary instant, and whenever it is made present to us today, tran-scendent powers cut through the secular time dimension to disturb our mod-em preoccupations. In similar fashion a few decades earlier, wher~ striving to resist new inroads of modernity Pope Pius X led Catholic parishes to give renewed attention to the Real Presence in the Eucharist (mainly as reserved in the tabernacle or received during Holy Communion). Whatever judgments we may wish to pass upon those earlier modes of resis-tance, it seems clear that a creative response for today will need to focus on the Eucharist as an action performed by the whole community. We may be able to enter the eucharistic action as full participants because we surrender in faith to the Lord who makes his Real Presence felt in our ways of relating to one another. The "just ordinary" feeling may be chosen as a means to that effective recognition. When in a small faith community the members have learned how to act and speak out of their newfound sense of ordinary selfhood, all their gifts may be appreciated warmly and without exaggeration. They can be put into action zestfully since the members are set free from the anxieties of personal competition. Each one's acceptance by all the others may become intensified through the distinctly felt presence of the risen Lord in their community today--not merely by anticipat.ing the Second Coming. 498 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 In short, we are being graced, membered in a new life, invigorated, and turned in hope to the future by this much more active presence of Christ. That intensification of God's "reigning" in us may correspond accurately and be found to dovetail beautifully with the newly released "just ordinary" feelings of the members about themselves. NOTES l Method in Theology, New York: Herder & Herder, 1972, pp. 257-262. 2 On this distinction see Robert Bellah and others, Habits of the Heart, Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: Univ. of California Press, 1985, pp. 32-35 and passim. 3 SeeThomas ~ Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, trans. Wm. Creasy, Notre Dame, Ind.: Ave Maria Press, 1989; "Introduction," pp. 11-13. Also Devotio Moderna: Basic Writings, trans. J. van Engen, New York: Paulist Press, 1988; "Introduction," p. 8: "The Imitation of Christ has undoubtedly proved the most influential devotional book in Western Christian history." It has also been translated into all the great lan-guages of the world. 4 Book I, chap. 28; trans. Creasy, p. 32. 5 Book III, chap. 8; trans. Creasy, p. 95. 6 Book III, chap. 14; trans. Creasy, p. 102. 7 Details are given in J. Leclercq, E Vandenbrouke, L. Bouyer, The Spirituality of the Middle Ages (vol. 11 of The History of Christian Spirituality), London: Bums & Oates, 1968, pp. 481-486 (text by F. Vandenbrouke). 8 Trans. Joseph Rickaby, S.J., Chicago: Loyola Univ. Press, 1929; vol. II, pp. 165- 352: "The Eleventh Treatise: On Humility." See chap. IIl: "Of Another Main Motive for a Man to. gain Humility, which is the Consideration of His Sins." (The first main motive, given in chap. II, is "To know oneself to be full of miseries and weak-nesses.") 9 Walter J. Ong, S.J., Hopkins, the Self, and God, Toronto, Buffalo, London: Univ. of Toronto Press, 1986; see especially pp. 22-28. For a recent philosophical discus-sion see Frederick Copleston, S.J., The Tablet, 11 Nov. 1989 (vol. 243, no. 7791), pp. 1302-1303. l0 Cited by Alphonsus Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, p. 168, see n. 8, above. Chap. II, "That Humility is the Foundation of All Virtues," pp. 168-170; chap. III, "In Which It Is Shown More in Detail How Humility Is the Foundation of All Virtues, by Going Through the Chief of Them." ~l On this, see Bellah and others, Habits of the Heart (n. 2, above), pp. 117-121, for its development in the U.S.A. But similar versions of "modem nervousness" and "therapeutic culture" could be gathered from the other Western traditions (Continental, English, Canadian.). ~2 Confer Paul C. Vitz, Psychology As Religion, Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1977, pp. 20-27, for a discussion of Carl Rogers, Abraham Maslow, and Rollo May as moving from religious into secular concerns. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 499 ~3 The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, ed. W.H. Gardiner and N.H. MacKenzie, 4th ed., London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1967; poem no. 57, p. 90. 14 Ibid, poem no. 72, p. 106. The Hunter Yahweh's manifest love has all the proud and fierce majesty of a turkey buzzard flying with outstretched wings upon hot afternoon breezes, which are thrust upward unconstrained from ocher grabens below. This carnivorous bird is the other side of the symbolic dove. It is the Master of the Universe when he is not content waiting for hesitant or indifferent souls who fail to seek him. Rather, he becomes the strident hunter pursuing those who choose hiding in dark shadows caused by lichen-covered trees, or along cow-trodden riverbanks, where brown mud oozes into slowly flowing, opaque waters. Yahweh spreads his wings, searches for the goats and lambs, such as you and me, when we forget how to look for him circling over us in the translucent sky. Brother Richard Heatley, F. S. C. De La Salle, "Oaklands" 131 Farnham Avenue Toronto, Ontario Canada M4A 1H7 At the Threshold of a Christian Spirituality: Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal Method John McMurry, S. S Father John McMurry, S.S., cun'ently serves at the St. Mary's Spiritual Center and as a spiritual director for St. Mary's Seminary and University in Baltimore, Maryland. He has taken part in thirty workshops led by Dr. Ira Progoff since 1976, and he has led some sixty Intensive Journal workshops since 1978. His address is All Saints Church; 4408 Liberty Heights Avenue; Baltimore, Maryland 21207. Since 1978 1 have been teaching Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal method occasionally at weekend workshops. Dialogue House, the umbrella organiza-tion covering all of Progoff's works, describes his method as a program of "professional and personal growth with a spiritual point of view." It is a non-analytic means for individuals to attain two goals. First, it enables individu-als to recognize and accept the wholeness of their life without denying the reality of any of its contents, no matter how unpleasant or embarrassing. Secondly, it enables individuals to get a feel for the consistency in the direc-tion that their life is taking as they discover potentials for the future hidden within their personal past. The goals of the program are attained by means of a variety of written exercises which are done in a group setting under the direction of an experi-enced leader who is committed to follow authorized guidelines. Individuals in the group work in private with the contents of their own life. The only prereq-uisites are an atmosphere of quiet and mutual respect, and an attitude of open-ness and acceptance on the part of each exercitant toward his or her own life. The program is not only nonanalytic; it is also nonjudgmental and is structured to help people experientially discover answers to questions such as the following: Where am I in the course of my life right now? How did I get to the place where I am in the course of life? Where is my life trying to go from here? What is the next step? 500 Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 501 The Intensive Journal method itself has no content. The method is a dynamic structure to which each person supplies the content from one's own life. The structure aims at enabling individuals to establish deeper contact with the flow of creative energy in their own life. It is especially useful for people engaged in decision-making, for people who feel confused about the next step in life, for those who have lost contact with the direction their life wants to take, for those who feel alienated, isolated, or meaningless, and for those who simply want to expand their personal horizons of creativity. In creating the Intensive Journal program, Progoff had in mind people in a secular culture who are unfamiliar with or alienated by traditional religious language. However, the awarenesses stimulated by the exercises of his method serve to help Christians experience meaning in traditional doctrines which might otherwise remain merely propositional. In the case of people who approach it from the perspective of faith, the Intensive Journal program is a form of prayer. The Intensive Journal Method as Prayer In a chapter entitled "Prayer as Dialogue," Karl Rahner discusses prayer in terms apropos of the Intensive Journal method. He is addressing a com-mon problem of people who are earnest in their efforts to enter into dialogue with God. They often state the problem something like this: "When I pray, I cannot tell whether I am talking to myself or to God." Rahner challenges the presupposition that God says "something" to us in prayer. He raises some "what-ifs": What if we were to say that in prayer we experience ourselves as the utterance of God, ourselves as arising from and decreed by God's freedom in the concreteness of our existence? What if what God primarily says to us is ourselves in the facticity of our past and present and in the freedom of our future? Rahner concludes that when, by grace, we experience ourselves as the utterance of God to himself and understand this as our true essence, which includes the free grace of God's self-communication, and when in prayer we freely accept our existence as the word of God in which God promises him-self to us with his word, then our prayer is already dialogic, an exchange with God. Then we hear ourself as God's address. We do not hear "some-thing" in addition to ourself as the one already presupposed in our dead fac-ticity, but we hear ourself as the self-promised word in which God sets up a listener and to which God speaks himself as an answer. 1 Rahner is suggesting that God's word to me in prayer is not an idea; rather, God's word to me in prayer'is myself, that is, my personal, individual life story--past, present, and future. The implication is that my life story is 502 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 important in my relationship with God because it is the way God speaks to me and I to God. A further implication of Rahner's proposal is that I enter into dialogue with God ipsofacto under three conditions: 1) when I experience my life story as God's word addressed to himself; 2) when at the same time I understand that God is really present in my actual life story--past, present, and future-- as a free and undeserved gift of himself to me; 3) and when I freely accept my life story as the word of God in which God promises his Word to me. The Intensive Journal program is an instrument which lends itself to the discovery of the real presence of God in one's own personal life story. The content of the program is the content of the life of the Journal-writer; hence it is through the life of the Journal-writer that Christian faith may enter into the individual's use of the Intensive Journal exercises. Progoff has described the prayer dimension of his method as follows: The Intensive Journal work is indeed a species of prayer and meditation, but not in isolation from life and not in contrast to active life involve-ment. Rather, it is meditation in the midst of the actuality of our life experiences. It draws upon the actualities of life for new awarenesses, and it feeds these back into the movement of each life as a whole.2 The Intensive Journal Method and Spirituality In his "handbook of contemporary spirituality," Rahner raises the ques-tion whether the term "spirituality" is good, understandable, useful, or even has any meaning. Then he makes the observation that the crucial point for personal and pastoral life today is not so much a matter of getting the "spiri-tual" dimension of existence into our heads or other people's by means of abstract and conceptual indoctrination (which he says is ineffective anyway) as it is a matter of discovering the Spirit as that which we really experience in ourselves.3 Perhaps Rahner slightly understates the case. It may be that the crucial point for us personally and in our pastoral work today is simply to discover "the Spirit" as a fact of our own personal experience and to help others do the same. Furthermore, in order to be able to use the word "spirituality," we might let it refer simply to the individual's .relationship with God or, in other words, to what goes on in the creative process between God and each of us. This article presents Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal program as an aid to the process which is going on between an individual and God. The program adds no content to the life of the individual; it mirrors the movement which is already going on and stimulates that movement by feeding new aware- Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 503 nesses back into the movement of life. ("Journal feedback" is one of the main features which distinguish this method from an ordinary diary.) This program, then, is a dynamic structure for evoking self-transcendence from the factual contents of a life story. For a person of faith it is a way of discov-ering the Spirit "as what we really experience in ourselves." Genesis of the Intensive Journal Method Following Progoff's discharge from the U.S. Army, he earned a doctor-ate in the area of'the history of ideas from the New School of Social Research in New York City. On the basis of his dissertation, Jung's Psychology and Its Social Meaning, published in 1953 and still in print, Progoff was awarded grants for postdoctoral studies with Carl Jung for two years. By virtue of those studies Progoff was licensed as a therapist by the state of New York, where he went into private practice after returning from Switzerland. In 1959 Progoff founded the Institute for Research in Depth Psychology at Drew University in New Jersey and served as its director until 1971. During those twelve years-he and his graduate students searched out the dynamics of creativity in published biographies of creative people whose life stories had ended. From his research Progoff concluded that creativity occurs through the interplay among various dimensions of life which may at first seem disparate. On the surface it may appear that the process in one dimension is unrelated to the process in another dimension, whereas in fact something new comes into being when the individual makes correlations among the dimensions of life. It is as though the individual is a complexus of certain processes which occur throughout life on different planes. Progoff has developed, the Intensive Journal method over more than a quarter-century of helping his clients apply the fruits of his research by dis-covering hidden sources of creativity within their own lives. He began teach-ing his method to groups in the late 1950s. In 1975 he published At a Journal Workshop, a thorough description of his haethod up to that time. In 1980 he published a companion volume, The Practice of Process Meditation, which added another dimension to the program. Dimensions of Human Existence In Progoff's view, the artist is paradigmatic. Each individual is both the artist and the ultimate artwork of life, and yet individuals execute the art-work which is themselves by engaging in outer activity which has inner meaning for the one doing it and beneficial consequences for society. In other words, in order for each of us to be fulfilled as an individual, we must 504 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 do some work (opus as distinguished from labor) which is both personally and socially meaningful. At the same time as we are creating our lifework, the doing of the work is creative of us. The basic dialogue of life is the dynamic actual (as distinguished from logical) dialogue between human cre-ators and their works. In Progoff's words, "Outward activity propelled from within is the essence of creative existence.''4 From his research on the lives of creative people Progoff learned to dis-tinguish certain dimensions of life as loci of the components of creativity. The Intensive Journal method recognizes those dimensions as sources of the raw material of creativity in anybody's life, They are the dimensions of time, ¯ of relationships, and of personal symbols. The Intensive Journal workbook uses color-coded dividers to mark off various sections in each of which the Journal-writer deals with the move-ment in one particular dimension of life. Within each of the main sections are tabbed subdividers of the same color as the main divider. Each tab bears the name of the specific exercise to be entered there. For example, the "Life/Time Dimension" is indicated by a red divider and contains four tabbed red subdividers; each of the four tabs bears the title of the written exercise to be entered there by the Journal writer. Similarly, the dimension of personal relationships in life, called the "Dialogue Dimension," is indicated by an orange divider and comprises five tabbed subdividers for each of the five "dialogue exercises." The part of the Intensive Journal workbook for making entries which deal with dreams and personal imagery is called the "Depth Dimension." It is indicated by a blue divider and five tabbed blue subdividers. In summary, the workbook comprises sections which reflect and stimu-late the movement of an individual life in each of its dimensions. Each of the main sections of the workbook represents a dimension of life and comprises several subsections for various written exercises which deal with the con- "tents of that life in styles appropriate to that particular dimension. The Dimension of Life/Time We do not get the chance to start life over, but the Intensive Journal pro-gram does offer us a tested means of restructuring our life from the perspec-tive of the present. At the same time it provides a means of discovering unactualized potentials which we may have overlooked the first time around, or which were not ripe then and may at some point in time be able to take a form they could not have taken originally. In studying the biography of a deceased person generally recognized as creative, the end or goal of that career may be clear and unmistakable, even Progof['s Intensive Journal Method / 505 though the lif'e story includes setbacks, stalls, reversals, and obstacles. It may be easy to see how everything in that life was leading up to some great scientific or philosophical work because we are viewing it from the perspec-tive of the end. But what if I am the life story I am working with? In that case the life process is still in progress. I am not looking at a still photograph but a mov-ing picture, and I am looking at it from the inside. In that case I start with the present epoch of my personal life and get a feel for this period of life from the inside. That is, I allow myself to feel the quality or tone of my life during this present period and record it objectively. The record I make of the pre-sent period will be an objective statement of my subjective experience of life at present. Then I am in a position to allow the course of my life to present itself to me from the perspective of the present in the form of about a dozen significant events. Each of those significant events serves to characterize a whole period of life. Of course, many other things also happened during that period. There are other exercises for dealing with them. The idea in this exercise is to get a feel for the wholeness and continuity of my life as I allow it to present itself to me in an articulated form so that I can use other Journal exercises to deal with it one period at a time. All the Intensive Journal exercises presuppose the attitude of openness and receptivity mentioned above, a nonjudgmental attitude toward life. It is not so much the objective contents of a life that affect its degree of creativi-ty, as the subjective attitude toward that life. In the creative restructuring of a life, a relaxed, friendly approach which allows surprises is important. Dimension of Relationships In the life/time dimension treated above, there is a principle of whole-ness, continuity, and direction,toward-a-goal at work. In the dimension of relationships, the dynamic is that of dialogue, that is, the give-and-take of equals listening and responding to each other in a spirit of mutual trust and acceptance. The principle of "dialogue relationship" applies first of all to significant people during various epochs of life. The. same dynamic applies analogously to meaningful work-projects (opera), which, like persons, seem to have a life of their own. In his research on creative lives, Progoff discovered that creativity occurs when people approach several kinds of meaningful contents of their life not as inert matter to be manipulated but as personal entities. That is, he discovered that creativity occurs when people acknowledge that each of sev-eral meaningful contents of their life has a life story of its own analogous to 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 that of a person. Each of these contents of life has a life story with blockages to growth toward a goal, with hopes, disappointments, successes, and so forth. He found that for the sake of movement toward acceptance of life and all it holds, it is of paramount importance to establish a "dialogue rel~ition-ship" not only with persons and works but witl~ the physical and societal dimensions of life, and with events, situations, and circumstances of life which "just happen." Progoff's research into de facto creative lives yielded two important corollaries. First, the movement which the dialogue relationship fosters is intrinsic to the "creative spirit. Secondly, in the dimension of relationships as well as in other dimensions of life, the factual contents of life are less impor-tant in the creative process than the way people relate to whatever the con-tents of their life are. The "Dialogue Dimension" of the Intensive Journal workbook offers a format for a variety of exercises which enable the Journal writer to engage in written dialogue with people who have played meaningful roles in their life, with work projects, their own body, sources of values in their life (v.g., fami-ly, ethnicity, religious commitment), and things over which they had no con-trol. The purpose of these dialogue scripts is to give a voice to the meaningful contents of life, that is, to provide them a forum in which mutu-ality can flourish in the form of a "dialogue relationship" rather than a mere-ly utilitarian relationship. This leaves the Journal writer open to the possibility of something new emerging from an old relationship from the past. That new something may contribute an insight or an awareness which is of benefit to another relationship or which creatively affects the movement in another dimension of life. The Dimension of Inner Symbols This dimension of life refers to dreams, "twilight imagery" and personal wisdom-figures as the vehicles which come forward spontaneously to carry the movement of life further. The aim of the exercises in this part of the Journal, called the "Depth Dimension," is to facilitate spontaneous correla-tions between inner imagery and outer life so that new insights, awarenesses, and possibilities for action and decision-making might come to the surface of consciousness. Then, by means of appropriate Journal exercises, they can be fed back into the ongoing movement of life and thus stimulate growth by creating new configurations in the way things fit together in life. Progoff tends to shy away from the use of dreams in his method because many people seem unable to deal with them except analytically. The Intensive Journal method of working with dreams is basically to allow the movement Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 507 in a recurring dream or in a cluster of dreams to suggest some correlation with movement in one of the other dimensions of life. Then the exercitant may use appropriate Journal exercises to work in that dimension of life. The Fourth Dimension: The Spiritual As mentioned above, Progoff sees the Intensive Journal work in geoeral as "a species of prayer and meditation., in the midst of the actuality of our life experiences." However, he came to appreciate the role of the spiritual dimension in creativity only after he had developed Journal exercises in the three dimensions of life treated briefly above. The specifically spiritual dimension is reflected in his program as the dimension of meaning. The procedures for working in that dimension are called "Process Meditation." In the Intensive Journal program, formal work in this dimension is reserved for those who have already taken part in the "Life Context Workshop," which deals with the three dimensions of life treated above. As Rahner has said, "A basic and original transcendental experience is really rooted [in] a finite spirit's subjective and free experience of itself.''5 The "process" of "Process Meditation" refers to "the principle of conti-nuity in the universe" which is found on three levels: the cosmic, the s6ci-etal, and the personally interior.6 The Intensive Journal method helps the individual relate to "process" on the interior level. The movement of life in the three dimensions treated above is character-istically movement toward personal wholeness and the integration of the individual with oneself. Progoff calls that movement "core creativity." "In terms of individual lives," he writes, "the essence of process in human expe-rience lies in the continuity of its movement toward new integrations, the formation of new holistic units [of life/time].''7 In the spiritual dimension of life the movement is characterized by rela-tionships which transcend the core creativity of the individual. The roots of such relationships--even the personal relationship of the individual to God--are to be found in the stuff of everyday life, but at a deeper than ordi-nary level. Rahner speaks of the knowledge of God as "concrete, original, histori-cally constituted, and transcendental." He further says that such knowledge of God "is inevitably present in the depths of existence in the most ordinary human life.''8 Progoff interprets "meditation" broadly. In his usage it refers to whatev-er methods or practices one uses in the effort to reach out toward meaning. "The essence of meditation," he says, "lies in its intention, in its commit- 508 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ment to work inwardly to reach into the depths beyond the doctrines of our beliefs.''9 Hence, "Process Meditation" refers to a set of exercises which draw on the individual exercitant's intimations or experiences of connected-ness to the principle of continuity in the universe. Progoff describes his method of Process Meditation as follows: Our basic procedure is to reenter the process by which our individual spiritual history has been moving toward meaning . We reenter that pro-cess so as to reconnect ourselves with the inner principle of its move-ment, and especially so that we can take a further step toward the artwork that is our personal sense of meaning,l° Conclusion In a review of The Practice of Process Meditation, William V. Dych, S.J., translator of Rahner into English, compares what Rahner calls "the uni-versal presence of grace and the Spirit" with Progoff's thesis that "there is in every human being an inner source of new light and life that expresses itself whenever the circumstances are right." Dych views Progoff's thesis as so supportive of Rahner's position that it would be hard to imagine a more pos-itive affirmation of it. ~ NOTES i Karl Rahner, The Practice of Faith: A Handbook of Contemporary Spirituality, ed. Karl Lehmann'and Albert Raffelt (New York: Crossroad, 1984), pp. 94-95. 1 Ira Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation: The Intensive Journal Way to Spiritual Experience (New York: Dialogue House Library, 1980), p. 18. 3 Rahner, op cit, p. ! 86. 4 Ira Progoff, At a Journal Workshop: The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal (New York: Dialogue House Library, 1975), p. 35. 5 Karl Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Christianity, trans. William V. Dych (New York: The Seabury Press, 1978), p. 75. 6 Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation, p. 40. 7 Ibid, p. 58. 8 Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith, p. 57. 9 Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation, p. 34. l0 Ibid, p. 82. II William V. Dych, "The Stream that Feeds the Well Within," Commonweal, 25 September 1981 Our Journey Inward: A Spirituality of Addiction and Recovery Maureen Conroy, R.S.M. Sister Maureen Conroy is co-director of the Upper Room Spiritual Center; EO. Box 1104; Neptune, New Jersey 07753. [~qany of us travel a great deal throughout our lives. With advanced means of transportation, traveling around the state, country, or world has become second nature to us. However, no matter how much or how far we travel, as we journey through life we discover that there is no journey more challeng-ing and scary than the journey inward, the journey to find true happiness and our most authentic self. We search for what is fulfilling and life-giving, but at times our searching takes us down the dark road of addictive behavior. We search for happiness in compulsive ways that deaden us rather than give us life--until we experience a desperate need for help. In this article I reflect on the darkness pervading the addictive process and some ways to journey through the darkness to our truer self. I discuss three aspects of our journey from addiction to recovery--woundedness and wholeness, powerlessness and surrender, and pain and compassion--and describe some dimensions of a spirituality of addiction and recovery related to these three aspects. A Spirituality of Woundedness and Wholeness As human beings God has given us the gifts of strength and freedom; we are called to live in the light. It is also true, however, that we are wounded, weak, vulnerable, broken people. We come from an environment of dark-ness. The brokenness in our ancestry and the dysfunction in our families has influenced our growth as free human beings. We are broken and we are in deep need of healing and redemption. We cannot save ourselves. In our addictive stance we want to avoid our woundedness, ignore our 509 510 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 weakness, and run from our vulnerability. We seek fulfillment through an object, a substance, or a process; that is, we form a pathological relationship with a mood-altering reality in order to find wholeness and happiness. We find it difficult to be honest about the dysfunction in our families and the brokenness in ourselves, so we look for something outside ourselves to keep us from facing our darkness. Spiritual growth and recovery, however, are just the opposite of this avoidance. To grow humanly and spiritually we must journey in and through our woundedness; we must face it head on. We need to feel the messiness of our brokenness and to discover God there. As Psalm 50 says, "a broken and humbled heart, O God, you will not spurn." We must discover that God's heart of love encompasses and holds as precious our wounded hearts, bodies, and spirits. It is through dwelling in our woundedness and vulnerability that we experience our authentic self and that we enable our addictive self to grow less powerful. We come to experience the child within and integrate our dark side with our light side. How do we make this journey in and through our woundedness? We do it by uncovering our addiction layer by layer. By this I mean we allow the walls of denial and layers of dishonesty to reveal themselves; we honestly appraise our unhealthy behaviorL Denial blocks our inner journey. It is a buffer against any reality thatis not acceptable to us, a way to protect our-selves from awareness of realities that are too difficult to face. Spiritual growth happens when we remove layer upon layer of denial that covers over our woundedness and our truer selves. Rather than avoiding our wounds, we need to expose them to the fresh air, to expose our broken hearts to the heal-ing .heart of God, to bring our darkness out into the light of day, to bring hid-den realities out to the light of God's love and the care of others. As Meister Eckhart says, "God is not found in the soul by adding anything, but by a pro-cess of subtraction." So it is through peeling off layer upon layer of denial and dishonesty that we discover God in our brokenness. We discover the original blessing that we are, our deeper and truer selves. We see and feel the aspects of ourselves--minds, hearts, and bodies--that mirror God's pres-ence. We experience the truth of the Genesis story where God says, "Let us make people in our image and likeness." We discover the authentic self that God desires to be fully human and fully alive. Growth in wholeness, therefore, takes place through integrating our dark side with our light side, through accepting our brokenness as we journey through it, by seeing the original blessing that we are. We discover that "darkness and light are the same" (Ps 139:12), that God is present in every dimension of our being. Thus, our woundedness becomes a gift, so rather Our Journey Inward / S'l'l than covering it over with layers of denial, we come to feel at home there because God is there. We discover our truer self underneath the layers of an addictive self. We integrate our wounded and blessed self, our darkness and our light, and we become more and more a whole person. We experience the truth proclaimed by St. Irenaeus: "God's greatest glory is a person fully alive." A Spirituality of Powerlessness and Surrender The journey through addiction to recovery is also one of powerlessness and surrender. God sent Jesus in the flesh to free us from our enslavement to sin and to show us the way t6 live in freedom. It was through Jesus' total surrender to his death on the cross that he experienced new life and showed us the way to true freedom, the freedom of letting go and surrender. In our addictive stance, we are trying to control everyone and everything around us. We grow hardheaded and hardhearted, and we attempt to control the sub-stance or process that we are abusing--alcohol, food, money, sex, work, or an obsessive relationship. We are out of control, and the more we try to con-trol everyone and everything around us, even the substance we are abusing, the more out of control we become. Our addiction is enslaving us to our own self-centered needs and desires. We are "number one" when we are addicted; our addictive needs come bei'ore everyone else. Our addiction enslaves us to an object or process that we think is going to bring us lasting happiness when it is really bringing us misery and isolation. It enslaves us emotionally, spiritually, physically, and socially. The more we try to control the use of our addictive reality, the more we lose con-trol. We deny the basic reality that Paul~ expresses: "The desire to do right is within me, but not the power. What happens is that I do, not the good I will, but the evil I do not intend. But if I do what is against my will, it is not I who do it but sin which dwells in me" (Rm 7~18-20). In our denial we keep think-ing we can choose to keep this substance in right order; however, the rbality is that our will is not working, it is diseased. We are powerless. So how does spiritual growth and recovery happen in relation to our being out of control? It begins when we admit our powerlessness, realize the insanity of thinking that we can control all aspects of our lives and our des-tiny. Spiritual growth happens through the journey of surrender, not control; it begins at the moment of surrender. We need to admit that our ability to choose has become greatly impaired through the disease of our addiction. Our trying to choose not to drink, not to overeat, not to overwork, not to engage in compulsive sexual activity, is just not working. Our willpower simply does not work. As we begin to admit our powerlessness and surrender to God, we find 512 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 new life. When we surrender rather than control, we are choosing life: "I have set before you life and death, a blessing and a curse. Choose life, then, that you may live, by loving the Lord your God, heeding God's voice and holding fast to God. For that will mean life for you" (Dt 30:19-20). As we admit our powerlessness and surrender to God, true power grows within us--the power to love others, the power to experience God's love, and the power to love ourselves. Through our surrender we come more deeply in touch with our authentic self--the self that is alive and not dead, free and not enslaved, joyful and not depressed. True freedom grows--a freedom that heals rather than hurts, that brings about growth rather than destruction, that results in life rather than death. In our surrender we begin to make positive choices for recovery, attend-ing twelve-step meetings and living the twelve-step program. We choose to take responsibility for our lives and our recovery, like the paralyzed man who had lain at the pool of Bethsaida for thirty-eight years until Jesus asked: "Do you want to be healed?" We need to respond to that same question in our addiction because recovery is hard work; it involves a gre.at deal of sacri-fice and responsibility. Also, through our daily admission of powerlessness and constant atti-tude of surrender, we discover God in a new way--a God who supports us in our weakness and strengthens us in time of need, a God who will not leave us even in our most out-of-control moments. We discover in Jesus a God " who has experienced weakness and powerlessness, a God who has stood totally stripped and poor, a God who invites us to have the attitude of a vul-nerable child rather than a controlling adult: "Unless you become like a little child, you shall not enter the kingdom of God." We experience a God whose power takes over in our weakness, as St. Paul discovered through his strug-gle: "Three times [which means numerous times] I begged the Lord that this might leave me. God said to me, 'My grace is enough for you, for in weak-ness power reaches perfection.' " It was through constantly admitting his powerlessness that Paul's spiritual growth and recovery took place. So he says: "I willingly boast of my weaknesses instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I am content with weakness., for when I am powerless it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12:8-10). Thus, through admit-ting our powerlessness over an object of addiction and surrend.ering to God our weakness, we experience the power of God, the love of God, new life, renewed freedom. We move forward on the journey ,of recovery. A Spirituality of Pain and Compassion Finally, the journey through addiction to recovery is one of pain and Our Journey Inward / ~313 compassion. One of the hard facts of life is that suffering is an integral part of it. Jesus himself had to suffer great pain in order to bring new life. Our God is not a distant God but a compassionate God who experienced great pain, the pain of loving us. In our addictive stance, we deal with pain in an unhealthy way. We want to run from it, cover it over, deny it. We are caught in a "Catch 22" situation because, in using a substance to avoid our pain, we are really in great pain-- the pain of loneliness, isolation, and alienation from our true self and from healthy relationships with others. As our addiction progresses, it becomes increasingly painful to maintain our denial. We are overcome by the pain of shame and self-disgust. Spiritual growth and recovery take place when we face that pain, feeling it, looking at it square in the face, rather than avoiding it by abusing a sub-stance. As our walls of denial break down, we begin to feel the pain we have been covering up--the pain of living, the pain of loss, the pain of being human, the pain of developing intimate relationships, the pain of childhood neglect and abuse. We find out that healing involves pain, as in the case of lepers. Leprosy causes numbness. When Jesus healed the leper, he invited him to feel pain in the areas of previous nrmbness. The same is true of the leprosy of our addiction: as we begin to let down the walls of denial, we begin to feel pain. We realize that recovery and healing are not easy. As we journey through deeper levels of pain in our recovery, we discover a God who knows what it is to suffer. As Meister Eckhart says: "Jesus becam~ a human being because God, the Compassionate One, lacked a back to be beaten. God needed a back like our backs on which to receive blows and therefore to perform compassion as well as to preach it." Our compassionate God became a suffering God. Our God feels with us, suffers with us. Again, Eckhart says, "However great one's suffering is, if it comes through God, God suffers from it first." What a gift we have in a God who suffers with us! As we experience this tremendous love of a compassionate God, we become people of compassion, persons who can feel with others in their bro-kenness. We become more vulnerable and grow toward greater wholeness because love is the greatest healer. As our walls of denial are penetrated with God's compassionate love and we become more vulnerable, we can be with people in their brokenness. That is one of the beautiful realities of the twelve-step program: it is a group of people who are in touch with their bro-kenness and therefore have great compassion for those who are struggling. They live out these words of McNeill, Morrison, and Nouwen: "Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into places of pain, to share in broken-ness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with 514 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human" (Compassion, p. 4). As we feel the pain that our addiction has tried to cover, we become wounded healers--people who minister out of our woundedness as well as our strength. "What you have received as a gift. give as a gift" (Mt 10:8). Our pain becomes a gift that we can give to other addicted people as we compas-sionately help them to face the devastation of their addictive behaviors. In sum, our inward journey involves walking down the dark paths of our brokenness into the light of God's presence and our authentic self. A spiritu-ality of addiction and recovery must include two sides of reality: awareness of our woundedness, powerlessness, and pain as well as growth in wholeness, surrender, and compassion. Without a vivid sense of the depths of our bro-kenness in our addicted self, we cannot move toward the wholeness of our authentic self. Without a keen awareness of our darkness, we are blind to the light of God's healing presence. Without an acute sense of our vulnerability, we cannot become compassionate healers who stand with others in their pain. Though scary and challenging, our journey through our own darkness will lead us to the light of true happiness, deeper fulfillment, and new life. Awareness Examen for Recovering People In God's presence, take ten to fifteen minutes to prayerfully reflect on your day. Contemplate your day together--you and God. Prayer of Thanksgiving I thank God for the gift of this day, the gift of my sobriety, the gift of my recovery. I thank God for specific git~s of life that come to mind, such as my health, my family, my community, my friends, my job, my twelve-step program. I thank God for gifts of my inner life, such as the ability to feel and think, energizing feelings I had during the day (name them), specific values and beliefs that guided my actions, ways I used my thinking and imagination for growth, positive choices for recovery which I made today, God's life within me. I thank God for two or three concrete life gifts and inner gifts that I am particularly aware of and grateful for today. Prayer for Light I humbly ask God to help me see myself and my life today as God sees Our Journey Inward them. I ask God to remove blindness and denial from my mind and heart. I ask God for the gift of honesty with myself and God. I ask God for a dis-ceming heart and a truthful mind. Prayer of Awareness God and I contemplate my life, my heart, and my thinking this day from the moment I woke up until now. What specific feelings did I feel today? When did I feel most alive today? most my true self?, most joyful? most peaceful? most in tune with my deeper self?. How did I feel God's presence today? What was that feeling like? What was God like? At what moment did I feel God's presence the strongest? When did I feel powerless today? out of control? enslaved? unfree? What was I powerless over? Did I surrender that reality to God? When did I feel vulnerable today? When did I feel pain today? What was the pain about? Did I share that painful feeling with God or another? With whom have I been most honest today? myself?, another? God? What was I honest about? How did I struggle with honesty today? With what issue or feeling? ' What were my feelings underneath the struggle? fear? anger? guilt? Which of the twelve steps was my strength today? How did I live it, carry it out, in a practical way? In what concrete ways did I strive to improve my conscious contact with God? What choices did I make for my recovery today? How do I feel about those choices? When did I feel compassion for another person today? How did I reach out to others today? show concem and care? make amends? Prayer of Amends I ask God to forgive any specific wrongdoings of today. I ask God to have mercy on any negative attitudes or feelings that I got stuck in today. Prayer of Surrender I surrender all to God: my life, my will, my brokenness, my addictions, my imagination, my thoughts, my feelings. I surrender to God specific attitudes, feelings, thoughts, actions over which I felt powerless today. I ask God's strength to take over in my specific weaknesses. I ask God's power to be present in the specific areas in which I feel helpless and powerless. 516 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 O God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Take, O Lord, and receive my liberty, my memory, my understanding, my entire will, all that I have and possess. You have given all to me. To you, O God, I return it. All is yours, dispose of it wholly according to your will. Give me your love and your grace, for this is sufficient for me. (Prayer from the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius) RECOMMENDED READING Larsen, Eamie. Stage H Recovery: Life Beyond Addiction. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1985. May, Gerald. Addiction and Grace. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988. McNeill, Donald; Morrison, Douglas; and Nouwen, Henri. Compassion. New York: Doubleday & Co., 1966. Nakken, Craig. The Addictive Personality: Roots, Rituals, Recovery. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden, 1988. Whitfield, Charles L. Healing the Child Within. Pompano Beach, Florida: Health Communications, 1987. A Gift to Share The Jesuit Heritage Today "Ignatian prayer puts the history of salvation into the present tense." --Walter Burghardt, S.J. A Spirituality for Contemporary Life ¯ presents six stimulating reflections on the Jesuit heritage today. Theologians Walter IBurghardt, David Fleming, Monika Hellwig, Jon Sobrino, ElizabethJohnson, andJohn Padberg speak about living with God in ordinary life. ISBN 0-924768-02-9 112 pages List Price $5.95 A Resource to Keep See Order Form Inside Back Cover for Special Offer for Readers of Review for Religious Apostolic Spirituality: Aware We Are Sent James H. Kroeger, M.M. Father James Kroeger last appeared in our pages in May/June 1988. He has a doctor-ate in missiology from the Gregorian University and has published five books. His address: Maryknoll Fathers; EO. Box 285; Greenhills Post Office; 1502 Metro Manila; Philippines. Adequately capturing realities in the spiritual life always demands the use of dynamic, expansive language. For this reason, spirituality is frequently described in relational categories--between a Christian and a personal God, between the servant-herald and the crucified and risen Lord. Such a relation-ship of intimacy is at the heart of biblical spirituality: "I will be your God and you shall be my people"; Christians are Jesus' friends and call their heavenly Father "Abba." Spirituality may also variously be described as growth, an evolution toward maturity, a pilgrimage. Each category presents an authentic, albeit partial, grasp of the human-divine dynamic operative in our lives. In this article, "consciousness" or "awareness" is the category for our insight into spirituality, and it naturally overflows with an apostolic or missionary dynamism. Consciousness: A Window into Spirituality Consciousness may seem to be an elusive concept, yet no one would deny the reality. An individual is in a conscious state when perceptual and cognitive faculties function normally. One continuously synthesizes various stimuli from within and from without; ideally, the result is a healthy personal integration. Notice that many constitutive elements are included in consciousness: seeing, hearing, feeling, thinking, desiring, experiencing. Consciousness incorporates perceptions, emotions, observations, thoughts, aspirations, 517 5"11~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 choices. It also includes an introspective awareness of the personal impact of all events and experience. In light of this brief and rudimentary description of the phenomenon of human consciousness, one may begin to elaborate the relationship between consciousness and a spirituality of the apostolate. Our service--all focused on raising our God-consciousness and expanding the horizons of our spiritu-al awareness. We want to use our eyes to see perceptively and our ears to hear attentively; we hope to gain deepened insight into our lives through faith's mirror (Jm 1:22-25). In another vein, a look at the venerable Eastern traditions of many Asian nations reveals that the man of God or the God-conscious, God-focused per-son is essentially a seer, sage, or mystic. Such a person "sees" and experi-ences God; God is not an object of knowledge, but a subject of experience. To grow in holistic spirituality is concomitant with an experiential awareness and consciousness of God's presence and activity in all dimensions of one's life (Arguelles, 50-51). The beautiful prayer in the Upanishads, one of the Hindu sacred books, expresses the aspiration and spiritual desire to come to this deeper conscious union with the divine. In Sanskrit and English it is: Asato ma satgamaya Tamaso ma jyotir gamaya Mrutyu ma amrutam gamaya. God, lead me from untruth to truth Lead me from darkness to light Lead me from death to immortality. Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk and spiritual writer (1915-1968), has enabled countless people to gain insights into their spirituality. Merton inti-mately links spirituality and prayer with the transformation of conscious-ness. He sees that a renewed conscious awareness underlies all spiritual growth; Christians must cease to assert themselves as the center of con-sciousness and discover God's presence as the deepest center of conscious-ness within them. Thus, as their self-consciousness changes, they are transformed; their self is no longer its own center, it is now centered on God. It is important to note that for Merton no one will ever be capable of communion with God and others without ttiis deep awakening, this transfor-mation of consciousness. Such transformative growth "consists in a double movement, man's entering into the deepest center of himself, and then, after passing through that center, going out of himself to God" (Higgins, 49). Merton asserts that, unless our spirituality or prayer "does something to awaken in us a consciousness of our union with God, of our complete depen- Apostolic Spirituality / 5'19 dence upon him for all our vital acts in the spiritual life, and of his constant loving presence in the depths of our soul, it has not achieved the full effect for which it is intended" (Merton-A, 67). In today's world, "What is required of Christians is that they develop a completely modern and contemporary consciousness in which their experience as men of our century is integrated with their experiences as children of God redeemed by Christ" (Merton-B, 279). The renowned Indian theologian D.S. Amalorpavadass has written elo-quently on the role of consciousness or awareness in attaining spiritual inte-gration and interiorization: "If wholeness is a state of being at which one should finally arrive in stages, awareness is the running thread and unifying force. Awareness needs to flow like a river, like a blood-stream . Awareness is also the core of spirituality and God-experience." He repeats: "Awareness or consciousness should flow through the various actions of our life. One should maintain awareness in all that one does. It should serve as a running thread and connecting bond., through the various activities of our day, and the different periods and stages of our life, in an uninterrupted and continuous flow. This flow will make our whole life a continuous prayer and a state of contemplation" (Amalorpavadass, 4, 24). Brief glimpses of Scripture, Eastern traditions, a Trappist monk, and a contemporary theologian have shown that "consciousness" helps one grasp the human-divine dynamic operative in the Christian life. Within this catego-ry- which is foundational--a vibrant spirituality and a concomitant mis-sionary dynamism can flourish. And, in a Marian spirit, Christians who are missionary will grow ever more conscious of the marvelous deeds that God is accomplishing in us, our neighbors, our society, our Church, and the entire world. The Consciousness of Paul the Missionary The New Testament describes Paul's radical awareness of God's active presence in his life. Though not naturally prone to humility, Paul admits that he was knocked to the/~round; in Damascus "something like scales fell from his eyes," By grace h~ perceived that he was the chosen instrument to bring Good News to the Gentiles and that he would accomplish his mission only with hardship and suffering (Ac 9). Paul's consciousness of his apostolic calling was certainly at the basis of his extraordinary missionary journeys. Without a vivid perception and faith commitment, no one would willingly endure the challenges Paul faced. Such endurance would be foolishness. Yet Paul is never willing, even momentari-ly, to minimize his authority and commitment as an apostle; the introductory 520 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 verses of many of his letters are clear evidence of this. Paul's conversion was no superficial or passing phenomenon. It penetrated the core of his person and totally transformed his way of thinking and acting--his consciousness. Further investigation into Pauline theology and spirituality reveals the depth of his convictions. Paul is absolutely certain that God has a wonderful, marvelous, loving plan of salvation for the entire world (note his frequent use of the words mysterion and oikonomia). His letter to the Ephesians con-vincingly, almost mystically, explains how "God has given us the wisdom to understand fully the mystery,'~ "the mysterious design which for ages was hidden in God." Pauline reflection on God's loving plan of salvation (mysterion) synthe-sizes his belief that this design has been fully revealed in Christ and will be recapitulated in Christ at the end of time. This manifestation is focused on salvation, not condemnation or judgment, and is open to all peoples. It unfolds in stages: God, Jesus, Spirit, Church, world. Humanity's response is faith or personal appropriation of the mysterion (Fitzmyer, 807-808). A recent scholarly investigation (Plevnik, 477-478) has concluded that "Any center of Pauline theology must therefore include all these components of the apostle's gospel, his understanding of Christ, involving the Easter event and its implications, the present lordship, the future coming of Christ, and the appropriation of salvation. The center is thus not any single aspect of Christ, or of God's action through Christ, but rather the whole and undivided richness and mystery of Christ and of the Father's saving purpose through his Son" (mysterion). Mystery, in one word, captures the Christian message. Paul is the missionary par excellence because he believed, lived, prayed, served, reflected, witnessed, preached, and suffered so that God's mysterion would be known, extended, loved, and freely received. Obviously, Paul's missionary consciousness had the "mysterion encounter" as its central focus and driving force. Paul's self-awareness as an apostle was rooted in being chosen as a ser-vant and minister of God's loving plan of salvation. It might be asserted that the mysterion engulfed and consumed Paul; his consciousness was so trans-formed that he could assert that Christ lived in him, that fellow Christians could imitate him, that life or death no longer mattered, and that he gloried in giving his life for Christ. In a word, the mysterion is foundational to Paul's missionary identity and consciousness. Mission and Mysterion Consciousness The Second Vatican Council in its decree on the missionary activity of the Church places mission and evangelization at the center of the Church-- Apostolic Spirituality / 52'1 not allowing this task to float somewhere on the periphery: "The pilgrim Church is missionary by her very nature" (AG, 2). Pope Paul VI continues in the same vein: "We wish to confirm once more that the task of evangelizing all peoples constitutes the essential mission of the Church . Evangelizing is in fact the grace and vocation proper to the Church, her deepest identity. She exists in order to evangelize." (EN, 14). To evangelize--what meaning does this imperative have for the Church? It is to be no less than the living proclamation of the mysterion, God's loving design of universal salvation. As the community of Jesus' disciples, the Church realizes her "deepest identity" and "her very nature" when she ful-fills her mission of evangelization. She is to be always and everywhere "the universal sacrament of salvation" (LG, 48; AG, 1). For her, to live is to evangelize. In contemporary terms, the Church accomplishes her "self-realization" or "self-actualization" through mission and evangelization. She is only authentic and true to herself when she is announcing and witnessing the mys-terion. A nonmissionary Church is impossible; it is self-contradictory. The great missionary pope Paul VI writes that the Church "is linked to evange-lization in her most intimate being" (EN, 15); mission is not "an optional contribution for the Church" (EN, 5). In addition, the Church's missionary identity is not a late afterthought of the risen Jesus--though this outlook may seem true today of some Christians and local churches. Animation and rededication are necessary because Christians "are faithful to the nature of the Church to the degree that we love and sincerely promote her missionary activity" (EE, 2). These few paragraphs may invite the comment "I have heard it all before." True, yet all of us often hear without hearing, see without seeing, and listen without comprehending. It is precisely at this juncture that conscious-ness is poignantly relevant. Many Christians do not deny the missionary nature of the Church, but their level of conscious awareness is weak or mini-mal. This fact is unfortunately true even of many full-time Church personnel. The intention here is not to berate or castigate individuals. Rather, it is a stark statement of the need for "consciousness-raising"; it is a call for Christians to expand and deepen their awareness; all urgently need "conscientization-into-mission." In short, the entire Church herself must experience a profound reevangelization in order to become a truly evangelizing community. Recall the themes presented earlier on the centrality of consciousness in Christian life and spirituality. They seem particularly relevant as the Church struggles with her fundamental missionary identity. Is not this a central burn-ing question in the Church today: What has happened to her mission con- 522 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 sciousness--where is its urgency and dynamism--where are the contempo-rary St. Pauls? A rephrasing in mission terms of earlier quotes on consciousness from Amalorpavadass may prove enlightening. Church-as-mission is "the running thread and unifying force"; it "needs to flow like a river, like a blood-stream"; it is at "the core of spirituality and God-experience"; ira"will make our whole life a continuous prayer and state of contemplation." Trinitarian Basis of Mission Consciousness and Spirituality In the same breath that the Vatican Council spoke of the Church's mis-sionary identity, it presented the foundational rationale of mission. In a word, the why of Church-as-mission is Trinitarian, "for it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she takes her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father" (AG, 2). This mission vision, expressed in Trinitarian language, must not frighten or intimidate readers. Do not say, "I do not understand Trinitarian theology, so I cannot grasp this." While a bit difficult and challenging, this insight is also beautiful and rewarding. It transports us to the heart of mission; it flows from the core of our faith in the Trinity; it greatly enhances our mission con-sciousness and spirituality. The most inviting manner to appreciate mission--via the Trinity--is to remember that it is an eminently personal approach. The Father is a person, his son Jesus is a person, their girl of the Spirit is also a person. This is only a statement of a basic dogma of the faith. Grasping the immanence and closeness of the three Persons appears far more fruitful than grappling with the incomprehensibility of the transcendent Trinity (Billy, 602-611). Growth in conscious awareness, experience, and encounter with each of the three Persons richly broadens our vision of mission. It also manifests that mission theology and spirituality draw from the same wellspring. An appre-ciation of the roles of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit in mission produces an integrated missiology, incorporating "Abba" theology, Christology, and pneumatology. The result will certainly be a more holistic theology and spir-ituality of mission. Finally, it is the conviction of this author that such an approach relieves some current tensions and answers some questions in mission. For example, debates centered on interreligious dialogue with the living faith traditions of the world can probably be better resolved more from a pneumatological approach than from only a Christological one. Therefore, if mission theology and spirituality are an integrated endeavor, the deepened consciousness will provide insights for both theoretical and practical questions. Apostolic Spirituality / 523 Our attention now tums to the roles of Father, Son, and Spirit in mis-sion. How does each person of the Trinity send and accompany us into mis-sion? Recall the title of this presentation, which links mission and spirituality with a consciousness of being sent. The Role of the Father The Father is presented in Scripture as the harvest master and vineyard owner. Mission, therefore, originates with the Father; mission is God's pro-ject. The Father determines its parameters. Already this awareness places the Church and her evangelizers in an auxiliary, servant role. Vatican II clearly set aside triumphalistic ecclesiology as well as any simplistic identification of the Church and the Kingdom of God. As servant of the kingdom or laborer in the vineyard, the Church is to be "the kingdom of Christ now present in mystery" and the "the initial budding forth of that kingdom" (LG, 3, 5). In addition, the Council, situating the Church within the larger framework of God's design of salvation (mysterion), entitled its first chapter of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church "The Mystery of the Church." The Church and all missioners must radically see themselves serving the mysterion "according to the will of God the Father" (AG, 2). The Father desires generous cooperators and humble workers for the harvest. He freely chooses them and they are to belong to him (Lk 6:13; Mk 3:13-16; Jn 15:15-16). These passages remind evangelizers that all mission is a sending (missio/mittere), originating in the Father; their vocation is God's gratuitous gift. Missioners do not send themselves; mission cannot be defined in legal terms; all must be according to the Father's gracious design. Affirming mission, therefore, as a gratuitous gift in the Father's gracious vision, emphasizes the centrality of grace. Thus, missioners understand, as the country priest in Bernanos' novel says on his deathbed, in all vocations "Grace is everywhere" (Bernanos, 233). Trinitarian mission is always soteriological; its purpose is liberation and salvation. The Father has no other goal, as Paul clearly reminded Timothy: He "wants all to be saved and come to know the truth." Condemnation or rejection are inconsistent with the Father's design (Jn 3:16-17; Mt 18:14). The Father, overwhelmingly "rich in mercy" (Ep 2:4), extends his great love to everyone, as the universalism of both Luke and Paul make clear. All evangelizers have experienced "the kindness and love of God" (Tt 3:4); it is out of their deep consciousness of the Father's personal graciousness that they journey to all places, peoples, and cultures. They are aware that they have received all as girl, and they desire to give all with the same generosity (Mt 10:8). Any missioner would relish being described as "rich in mercy." 594 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 The Father cannot be surpassed in his kindness and generosity (Jm 1:5, 17); his mercy is made concrete and visible when he sends Jesus, his Son. This is definitely a new mode of God's presence with his people; it is love in personal form. This unfolding of the mysterion far surpasses previous mani-festations of Yahweh's presence to his people Israel (Heb 1:1-2). Missioners strive to be continuations of the love of God manifested personally in Jesus, and this approach brings transformation and deepened consciousness. Our discussion of the Father's role in mission carries us back to the heart of the Trinity: God is love (1 Jn 4:8), and all manifestations flow from this identity. No less than the inner life of the Trinity is founded on the dynamism of divine love. Thus, the mysterion necessarily is a loving design since it arises "from that 'fountain of love' or charity (fontalis amor) within God the Father" (AG, 2). It is imperative that missioners and evangelizers become mystics like John the Evangelist (see 1 Jn 4:7-21); nothing less can explain the love of God for a fallen world and rebellious humanity. No other motivation is ade-quate to the missionary calling--of the entire Church. Mother Teresa of Calcutta has named her congregation the Missionaries of Charity, and she never tires, of reminding her audiences that this is the fundamental vocation of all Christians. It sounds fantastic, but it is true: The love of the Trinity is personally poured into our hearts and it transforms all evangelizers into mis-sionary messengers of God's limitless love. Knowing our personal God as the font of love is the highest level of consciousness possible. Mission spiri-tuality becomes a conscious centering on Trinitarian love. This is the solid missiology-become-spirituality promoted by Vatican II. The Mission of the Son Jesus declares openly that he has been sent by his loving Father; the phrase "the Father who sent me" occurs forty-six times in the Gospel of John. And a salvific thrust is evident in the missioning of Jesus by his Father. Vatican II expresses Jesus' missioning as a reconciling presence "to establish peace or communion between sinful human beings and himself . Jesus Christ was sent into the world as a real mediator between God and men" (AG, 3). In Paul's theology, mediation and reconciliation are vital ele-ments of the mysterion (2 Co 5:19; Col 1:13; Rm 5:1)~ Jesus' continuing "Abba experience" (Kavunkal, 9-15), enabling him to faithfully accomplish his mission, has several dimensions: his coming or proceeding from the Father (noted above), his remaining with the Father (Jn 10:38; 16:32), and his eventual return to the Father (Jn 16:5; 7:33; 13:36). This means that Jesus fulfills his mission in light of a particular conscious- Apostolic Spirituality / 525 ness: continual intimacy with his Father. Luke tells us that, before making such a decisive move in his ministry as the choice of the Twelve, Jesus "went out to the mountains to pray, spending the night in communion with God" (Lk 6:12). Mission in the Jesus mode has its source, continuation, and fulfill-ment in the Abba experience. This dimension of Jesus' living of his mission provides evangelizers an inviting model for their own mission consciousness. In its holistic vision of God's design for salvation, the Council sees the Church as continuing, developing, and unfolding "the mission of Christ him-self" (AG, 5). The apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi (13-16, 59-60) and the pastoral statement on world mission of the United States Bishops To the Ends of the Earth (25-27) also confirm mission as an ecclesial act in fidelity to Jesus. Contemporary evangelizers, cognizant of the Jesus-Church continuity, seek to live and witness as the community of Jesus' followers. They recall his promises (Mt 16:18; 28:20), but readily admit they are fragile "earthen vessels." They faithfully accept that "Christ in his mission from the Father is the fountain and source of the whole apostolate of the Church" (AA, 4). A missioner's model is "sentire cum ecclesia'" (feel and think with the Church), frankly admitting that one is "simuljustus et peccator" (concomi-tantly both upright and sinful). Who among Jesus' followers does not need a deeper consciousness of these realities? Central to the mission of Jesus is the mystery of the Incarnation: "The Son of God walked the ways of a true incarnation that he might make men sharers in the divine nature" (AG, 3). This radical identification of our broth-er Jesus with us mortals (Heb 4:15) makes us rich out of his poverty (2 Co 8:9). He became a servant (Mk 10:45) and gave his life "as a ransom for the many--that is, for all" (AG, 3). Consistently, Church Fathers .of both East and West have held that "what was not taken up [assumed] by Christ was not healed" (Abbott, 587, note 9). Thus, when Jesus took to himself our entire humanity, he healed, renewed, and saved us. In brief, incarnation is the fundamental pattern of all mission. Today evangelizers are deeply conscious of the ramifications of mission as incarnation. No missioner worthy of the name underestimates the impor-tance of indigenization and inculturation; they develop a spirituality of "depth identification," becoming as vulnerable as Jesus was in his humanity. This same pattern is the model of growth and development of all local churches (AG, 22). While it is certain that the mission of Jesus is initiated at the Incarnation, his baptism by John in the Jordan is an act of public commitment and conse-cration to mission. Jesus pursues his ministry; though it will encounter grow- 526 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ing opposition and lead to the human disaster of Calvary, he will not betray his commitment. Note that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all juxtapose Jesus' baptism and the triple temptation in the wilderness. The tactic of Satan is to subvert Jesus with possessions, pride, and power; at the core, all Satan's promises tempt Jesus to renege on his dedication to mission. The more conscious an evange-lizer becomes of the struggle involved in mission faithfulness, the closer he will be drawn to Jesus. "who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin." The missioner will constantly and with confidence "approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and favor and to find help in time of need" (Heb 4:15-16). Instructive for the Church and her evangelizers is an appreciation of the continual action of the Spirit in the life of Jesus. The creed affirms that he was conceived "by the power of the Holy Spirit." The same Spirit descends on Jesus at the moment of his baptism (Mt 3:17); he is led by the Spirit to the desert (Mt 4:1); he returns to Galilee in the power of the Spirit (Lk 4:14); he begins his preaching mission at Nazareth asserting that "the Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Lk 4:18). As Jesus was empowered by the Spirit, he sends forth his own disciples saying: "Receive the Holy Spirit" (Jn 20:22). Peter (Ac 4:8), Paul (Ac 9:17), Stephen (Ac 6:5; 7:55), and those who listened to their preaching (Ac 10:44) were all filled with the Spirit. In fact, the entire nascent Church brims with the Spirit's presence (Ac 2:4), and thus the community increases while it enjoys the consolation of the befriending Spirit (Ac 9:31). Jesus, his disci-ples, and likew.ise today's evangelizers all are in mission through the mar-velous action of the Spirit (Kroeger-A, 3- 12). Concretely in the practical order, Jesus carries out his mission through evangelization--proclaimiog the GoodNews of the Kingdom. The first words that Mark places on Jesus' lips are centered on this very theme (Mk 1"15). Luke also portrays Jesus' mission as focused on glad tidings to the "little ones of this world" (Lk 4:18-19). As Paul VI has noted, this theme "sums up the whole mission of Jesus" (EN, 6). Jesus could not be impeded in his ministry: "I must announce the good news of the reign of God, because that is why I was sent" (Lk 4:43). Contemporary evangelizers, reflecting on the urgency and scope of Jesus' kingdom proclamation, will find themselves imitating Jesus' ministry as he lived it in silence, in action, in dialogue, in teaching, and in prayer. Yes, the Good News of the Kingdom for Jesus means an integral, holistic approach to evangelization--because all dimensions of the total gospel are expressions of his enduring love (Jn 13:1). Apostolic Spirituality / 527 Jesus' entire life, from the Incarnation to the Ascension, was a procla-mation. All he said and did were a testimony to the Father's loving design (Jn 3:31-35; 7:16; 8:38; 14:24). Jesus existed on nothing else; his "suste-nance/ food/meat" was to do the will and work of the one who sent him (Jn 4:34). In everything Jesus was faithful to the Father. Reflective, insightful evangelizers interiorize the fidelity mind-set of Jesus (Ph 2:5); they also imitate St. Paul in his concern for faithful transmis-sion of the message of Jesus preserved by the Church (1 Co 15:3, 11). In prayer and meditation missioners refocus themselves on Jesus and his king-dom, and often this demands setting aside personal opinions and ambitions. Mother Teresa of Calcutta notes that Jesus does not always call us to be suc-cessful, but he always invites us to be faithful. This fidelity to Jesus and his message should not be interpreted in too narrow a sense. As announcers of Good News, we consciously interiorize Jesus' gospel values; however, we seek to transmit them to humanity in all its cultural, social, religious, and politico-economic diversity. Certainly, this is a fantastic challenge; it is central to contemporary evangelization. Paul VI expressed it wisely and poignantly: "This fidelity both to a message whose servants we are and to the people to whom we must transmit it living and intact is central axis of evangelization" (EN, 4). Lifestyle is key in any vision of evangelization. For our contemporaries, who willingly listen only to witnesses (not theoreticians), the missioner's authenticity and transparency are generally the first elements in evangeliza-tion; wordless witness is already a silent, powerful, and effective proclama-tion. It is an initial act of evangelization (EN, 21, 41). Jesus himself adopted a particular, concrete lifestyle. His mind-set was fidelity and obedience to his Father; his outward manner manifested the lived values of poverty, total dedication, persecution, apparent failure. The Church and her evangelizers "must walk the same road which Christ walked, a road of poverty and obedience, of service and self-sacrifice to the death" (AG, 5). Bluntly, there is no authentic Christian mission without the cross and all its surprises, foolishness, and scandal (1 Co 1:18-25). True mission is always signed by the cross, and without it we cannot be Jesus' disciples. The evan-gelizer is always generous in bearing a personal share of the hardships which the gospel entails (2 Tm 1:8). Constantly the Christian disciple is measuring his life and apostolate against the lifestyle of Jesus and the patterns of the gospel. Sustained prayerful reflection and an ever deepening consciousness of one's personal relationship with the Trinity are the unique way of interior-izing the paradox of the cross and the power of the resurrection. 528 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 An anonymous poet, speaking of the centrality of the Incarnation and Redemption in Christianity, noted that there are no definitions in God's dic-tionary for these terms. One must search for the meaning of Bethlehem and Calvary under another category. Their significance is to be found only when one reads how God defines love. Indeed, God's loving plan of salvation is a message of hope for all peo-ples. It is universal and should be preached and witnessed "to the ends of the earth." To spread this universal message demands great dedication and faith, as seen in the practical advice that Paul gave to Timothy (2 Tm 4:1-5). The evangelizer, conscious of his role in the actualization of the mysteri-on, will surrender enthusiastically to the invitation of Jesus: Come and fol-low me in my mission. This conscious surrender will open his eyes to perceive, not so much what his efforts are accomplishing, but how Father, Son, and Spirit are working fruitfully in and through his life. With this vision, contemplation and actibn harmoniously blend and sustain one anoth-er; the evangelizer experiences living the mysterion. Eventually, all will be recapitulated in Christ and God will be

Part one of an interview with Amelia Gallucci-Cirio. Topics include: Recognition of the September 11th tragedy underway. Amelia's involvement in the Center for Italian Culture and the Alba Program. Pride in the Italian heritage and the importance of preserving it. The history of where Amelia lived in Connecticut and Massachusetts, while she was growing up. Memories of her relatives. What Amelia's childhood was like. Where in Italy her parents were from. Amelia's experience attending Fitchburg Teachers College from 1934-1938. Attending band concerts in Caldwell Park. Dressing up for Sundays, holidays, and to go downtown. How Fitchburg has changed. How people's values have changed. The role of church in a community. Social clubs. How Amelia met her husband. Where Amelia and her husband have traveled together. What inspired Amelia to donate money towards the education of others and the preservation of Italian culture. ; 1 LINDA: This is Linda [unintelligible – 00:00:02] for the Center of Italian Culture. We are interviewing Amelia Gallucci-Cirio. And I'm sure I didn't say that in the Italian way. I'm sorry. AMELIA: Yes, you did. That was right. LINDA: Okay. It's Wednesday, September 11, and we are in the home of both Anna [unintelligible – 00:00:23] and Amelia's cousin, Rachel Montorri, and the address is 479 Lindell Avenue in Leominster. It's a beautiful morning. It's 10:20 a.m., and we're starting a little bit late today because there was a national tragedy today, and there are unconfirmed reports that there was a terrorist attack against the United States, and there have been two planes, at least two planes, that have flown and struck the World Trade Center. There was a plane that struck the Pentagon about a half an hour after that. There are unconfirmed reports of a fire at the State House, and The White House has been evacuated and the Blair House, many buildings in Washington. People are very, very nervous today. So we will talk a little bit about that, I'm sure, but Anna and Amelia and Rachel are here with us today, of course to talk about the Italian-American experience, particularly in Fitchburg and Leominster. And Amelia, thank you very much. I suppose that we have to thank you for a lot of different things. Not just for appearing today to… AMELIA: Well, I'm happy to do it. May I preface this by quoting something from Cicero? Cicero, the great Roman orator and statesman, said, "Not to know what happened before we were born is to remain perpetually a child, for what is the worth of human life unless it is woven into the life of our ancestors by the records of history." I think that's so important. LINDA: Now, did that sort of formulate your reason for creating the center? AMELIA: Yes. Yes, and one of the reasons was I wanted to -- I'm very much interested in Western civilization and the Italian language and its culture, and I thought I think I'm capable of making donations, and my Fitchburg 2 State College would be the first to accept it, although I've also made donations to other organizations. In Waterbury, Connecticut, we have a program that I hope is going to carry on here in Leominster also. It's the Alba Program, in which children ages 6 to about 13, 14, study Italian through playing games and celebrating holidays and birthdays and so on. And we've been doing that in Waterbury, Connecticut for about five years, and I hope the Center for Italian Culture will also take that on as another project. And I've already talked to Anna, and they're very much interested in it. LINDA: Now, this is in Italian language? AMELIA: Yes, studying the Italian language and its culture, and there will be four or five teachers teaching the youngsters. LINDA: Now, has it been successful in Waterbury? AMELIA: Oh, yes. They've been working for about five years, and it's down to Teikyo Post University in Waterbury, Connecticut, and they meet there at the center every Saturday morning for about an hour and a half, two hours. And the children play games and they learn Italian expressions, and when it's a birthday they celebrate and say buon compleanno and so on. And the grandmothers just love it because the children go up and talk to Nonna and Nonno and so on. Yeah. And I hope that that is one of the projects they're going to take on, and talking to Anna they seem to be very interested in doing that. LINDA: Certainly anything that perpetuates the culture. AMELIA: Yeah, that's right. LINDA: Now, what's that, the Fitchburg State College website—and I'm not sure, you probably know this, but your profile has an alumni. AMELIA: Yes. LINDA: And I read -- and the very first item is that there is, "Know thyself." AMELIA: Yes. Socrates said, "Know thyself." And so we've translated that into Italian. [Foreign language – 00:04:58], meaning "Know thyself." And I 3 think I'd like to use that as our motto for the Center for Italian Culture, and not always is it included, but that's what it means. LINDA: What does it mean specifically to you? And how does it help you live your life and give donations? AMELIA: It means that… well, I know when I was a child it was difficult. We didn't have everything. My father died when we were quite young, and there were seven in the family. My older brother, Joseph, who Rachel knows, took on the responsibilities of father. It was an old Roman custom that the oldest son in the family would take over when the father died. So I thought since I am capable of doing it, I want to help children who weren't capable of learning their language or taking part in going to school, and that's what I'm doing now. LINDA: And why do you think that's important to learn about your heritage? AMELIA: It's so very important because today with so many different ethnic groups, oftentimes Italians of the TV and radio programs always talking about the mafia, and I feel that we are somehow -- Italian people don't defend themselves. But I think during the Clinton Administration they did pass a ruling wherein the Italians during World War II -- I know my mother, she wasn't a citizen, and during that time she couldn't travel. She had to go to the post office to get permission to attend a wedding in Waterbury, in Rhode Island, rather. And we are often made the scapegoat, and I think that we have to educate our people and teach them something about our background, something about our culture. We have a great culture, and the school systems at one time didn't talk about that, but I think it is being included in the curriculum today. LINDA: How do you feel about The Sopranos then? AMELIA: Oh, I'm very much not in favor of that at all. And I think that the Sons and Daughters of Italy and the NIF, and now that we have several, much more than we did in the past, congressmen of Italian origin, I think they are working to try to get them to remove that stereotype and talk more 4 about what Italian Americans have contributed to society. Going back to the time of the Romans and so on. LINDA: How did you feel when Geraldine Ferraro was running for vice president? Not necessarily her as a person or what she stood for, but was there a particular pride, ethnic pride? AMELIA: I don't know, but I know when she was running for vice president, we attended the NIAF dinner in Washington, D.C., my brother Joe, Christine, my two sisters and I, we all went down to Washington. We all went there, and she was a speaker, and we were very much in favor, naturally, being Italian American. But unfortunately there was some negative advertising about Geraldine, and that didn't help at all. LINDA: I remember specifically that there were some questions about her husband's dealings, possibly in the mafia. AMELIA: Oh, yes, yes. LINDA: There was a real backlash with that just because they have an Italian last name, and just because they're successful, it doesn't automatically make you… ANNA: What is she doing now? LINDA: I think she's quite sick, or she was. AMELIA: Yes, I think she is. LINDA: I'm not sure the form of cancer. ANNA: Oh, that's too bad. LINDA: One thing has confused me, because I read that you were born in Fitchburg… AMELIA: Yes, I was born in Fitchburg. LINDA: We'll have to change that on the website. It says that you were born in Connecticut. AMELIA: No, we were born in Fitchburg. We were born on my grandpa, my grandpa Luigi Scarano came from Italy with my mother. Mama was 17 years of age, and with Rachel's mother, Filomena, who was 13. Grandpa came with his two daughters to America, and then my grandmother came 5 with the rest of the family, and they settled down first in Boston, I think. [Foreign language – 00:10:10] Did you hear your mother talk about it? They went there and then they all came to Fitchburg, and Grandpa built that tenement house on Second Street? Did you see it? RACHEL: Middle Street Lane. AMELIA: Right. When my mother married my father, they lived in Clinton. My brother Joe was about 5 years old. Then we moved to Fitchburg, and my sister Christina was born in the block where Grandpa, Grandma, your mother was there. We all lived in the block. And then I was born the following year, May 12, 1915. And we were there for a couple of years. RACHEL: Yeah, not very long. AMELIA: And then we moved back to Connecticut. My father followed a young sister—he was always protecting her—and we lived there for a while and then back again to Fitchburg, and my brother Tommy was born here. LINDA: No wonder you like to travel. AMELIA: And then we moved back again to Waterbury, Connecticut. My father was a baker. He came from a family of bakers, and he set up a grocery store and a bakery shop, and we were there about three years, and then we moved to Naugatuck, Connecticut because his sister moved closer to another brother, and we have been there ever since 1925. But I came back to Fitchburg where I was born to attend -- it was called Fitchburg Teacher's College, and I lived with my grandmother and my uncle Joe, who was a violinist. And Anne studied violin with my uncle, and I remember when she was downstairs practicing and I was upstairs studying. So I was going to Fitchburg, we lived in Connecticut, and then I came back to Fitchburg for my bachelor's degree, and then I taught in Naugatuck in Connecticut for about eight years, and then I married in '52 and went to Phoenix. LINDA: Could you spell Naugatuck?6 AMELIA: Yes. N-A-U-G-A-T-U-C-K. It's a small community. Well, I wouldn't say small. It's about 35, in between Waterbury and New Haven, Connecticut. ANNA: That's what it is now? The population? AMELIA: Yeah, I would say. But my mother was never happy there because her mother was in Fitchburg and her sisters and brother and so on. LINDA: So do you have any memories of Fitchburg? Let's say your earliest memory. AMELIA: Yes. I remember when we all lived on 2nd Street in the block. [Unintelligible – 00:13:07] Oh, I thought it was 2nd Street. ANNA: I think you're right. AMELIA: I always remembered 2nd Street. And I remember when Anna's mother also lived there. Her uncle, who was Rachel's father -- was he responsible for bringing your mother to Fitchburg? RACHEL: Yeah. AMELIA: I remember her father must have been courting her mother, and he was such a wonderful man. Oreste. We used to go there and we'd sit on his knee, and he would give us all – that, I remember very distinctly. Those were happy days. LINDA: So what were their names? We should get that on tape. ANNA: Oreste. O-R-E-S-T-E. Guglielmi. G-U-G-L-I-E-L-M-I. And my mother, Carmela. C-A-R-M-E-L-A. Giammarino. G-I-A-M-M-A-R-I-N-O. And my mother came to America when Rachel's father, who was Michael Giammarino, called for her to come, and my father at that time was living in that neighborhood. He was boarding in a house there. Yeah, he was boarding on 3rd Street, at the Lily House. And he courted my mother, and they were married in 1920. LINDA: So your father -- tell us the relations. ANNA: Yeah, okay. My mother, Carmela, and Rachel's father, Michael, were brother and sister. Now, Rachel's mother, who was Filomena, F-I-L-O-M-E-N-A, and Amelia's mother…7 AMELIA: Anna Maria. ANNA. Her first name was Anna, Anna Maria, were sisters. So we're first cousins. AMELIA: What would the relationship between you and me be? RACHEL: Distant cousins. AMELIA: Yeah, I guess. LINDA: So getting back to your earliest experiences, so you remember her father? AMELIA: Oh, yes, yes. ANNA: He would bounce them on his knee. AMELIA: In fact, my sisters always say that -- yeah, we remember when Oreste used to sit us on his knee and… ANNA: He loved children. AMELIA: Yeah, he did. He was a wonderful man. And then of course I remember when I lived on Blossom Street with my uncle after they moved, Uncle Joe with Grandma and Grandpa moved to Blossom Street, 82 Blossom Street, and that's where he taught violin. And he used to come there summers, and they had a beautiful home, and Tommy would get on the banister and slide all the way down to the first floor. RACHEL: We've gone by that house. AMELIA: Oh, it's terrible. RACHEL: There was one house that we went by and you were disgusted. Maybe that was your first home? ANNA: No, I remember just saying what a shame to see it like that. RACHEL: But it wasn't Blossom Street. LINDA: So now is Blossom Street considered part of the Patch also? ANNA: No. Blossom Street is towards Fitchburg State College. LINDA: Okay. Who owned that house? ANNA: Her uncle? AMELIA: Oh, Uncle Joe. And Grandmother and Joseph Scarano. ANNA: Who was the son of her grandfather, her grandparents? LINDA: Okay. So tell me more about the Patch.8 ANNA: The Patch started at First Street right near where St. Bernadette's Church. RACHEL: It used to be the school. ANNA: St. Bernadette's Elementary School at that time. And it went down to Fifth Street where they have the Fifth Street Bridge, which is now being repaired and remodeled. And it started from Water Street going back to Railroad Street. That whole small section, they called it the Patch. RACHEL: And it was predominantly Italian. ANNA: Yes. LINDA: But Amelia, do you have any vivid memories of maybe what you did for fun? AMELIA: As a child? LINDA: As a child. AMELIA: I really don't know, because when I left Fitchburg, I was about 3 or 4 years old, and then we did come back there during the summer months in our teen age. Prior to that, we didn't. Uncle Joe used to come down with Grandma during the summer months when we lived in Naugatuck, but not until my late teens, probably. LINDA: How did you travel back and forth? AMELIA: Uncle Joe used to come down and pick us up. Uncle Joe would come down and pick us up in Naugatuck. LINDA: What kind of car? What kind of automobile was he using? AMELIA: Uncle Joe always had a Chrysler. ANNA: We were young, and we thought that was special. AMELIA: And he always got a Chrysler because I think he had stock in the Chrysler. RACHEL: Could be. LINDA: When he came down to Connecticut to pick you up, how many of you were there? AMELIA: Well, my brother Joe was always working to support us. There was Christine, Connie and I, Tommy and Donald, and Mama. ANNA: Anne.9 AMELIA: Oh, and Anne too. Yeah, we used to come summers for a couple of weeks or so and then go see an aunt. The youngest of the Scaranos was Aunt Rosella. Do you remember her, Anna? ANNA: I do. AMELIA: She played the piano. RACHEL: She was the most Americanized than the rest of them. She played the piano… AMELIA: Well, she was the youngest and had more schooling than the older ones. LINDA: And where are you in relation to your siblings? Are you -- you're in the middle, perhaps? AMELIA: There's Joseph, Christine, and then I. I'm about the middle, the third. There were seven in the family. Two boys are gone, and there are four sisters, three are in Phoenix. No, two are in Phoenix, and I'm with them, too. So there will be three in Phoenix and one sister is still in Naugatuck, Connecticut. And Donald, the youngest -- actually, his name was Dante. Papa called him Dante. But when they went to school they Americanized it to Donald. Donald is in Phoenix also. LINDA: How was it growing up in Connecticut? Did you see… maybe you didn't get to Fitchburg enough to notice any differences, but do you recall any differences? AMELIA: In what? LINDA: On just growing up in your area in Connecticut and then coming up to Fitchburg, which is probably booming at that time. AMELIA: In Fitchburg? LINDA: A lot of different people. AMELIA: No, we lived in this tenement house that we bought, and my father ran a grocery store and a bakery shop on the first floor. You know, I have a lot of pictures that -- did you say that you wanted them? I could send them to you. I don't have them with me. And there's a picture of the family is standing in front of the grocery store and going to school in a two-room schoolhouse on Groveside School and going to the Naugatuck High 10 School. Christine and I were very much interested in books and studying, and we spent a lot of time in the library. So the years in Naugatuck when we didn't come to Fitchburg were not very interesting. It was mostly studying and being with my brothers and sisters and my mother, because my father left -- well, he went back to Italy when Donald was a baby, and my brother, Joe, being the oldest went to work. So Papa left when I was in the 7th or 8th grade, and when I was a sophomore in high school we found out that he passed away. So he's buried in Italy, and I've gone to visit him many times when I went to Italy with my husband. LINDA: Did you live in a predominately Italian section? AMELIA: Yes. We lived on what they call Little Italy. And speaking about Italian section, for the past couple of years when I go back to Connecticut, to Naugatuck, we have a little reunion. We had it last year, and all the Italian Americans from that Little Italy section, we get together and I entertain them to dinner. We had a trio come and play for us. We've done that for several years, but because my two sisters didn't come with me this year I'm not going to do it. I'm spending more time in Fitchburg. LINDA: So tell me a little bit about growing up in your family with seven children, your father's a baker, then he leaves to go back to Italy… AMELIA: Well, the reason for going back to Italy was that he wanted to claim his share of the inheritance, but unfortunately it didn't work out that way because his brother, his oldest brother, Pasquale… Oh, hi Kathy. This is Rachel's daughter. LINDA: Hi, I'm Linda. KATHY: Hi, Linda. [Crosstalk - 00:24:04] RACHEL: So, what have you heard from the last half hour?11 KATHY: Well, you know about the Pentagon? And now they just said there was another plane crash outside of Pittsburgh about 30 miles. They don't know if it's related. Pittsburgh, a big aircraft went down. ANNA: Another building? KATHY: No. It crashed. RACHEL: That's too bad. KATHY: Are you crying? AMELIA: No. I have tear duct blockage, so I've got -- no, no. I'm fine. KATHY: Well, don't let me interfere. [Crosstalk – 00:24:38] LINDA: Are there any reports of who's responsible? KATHY: What's his name, Arafat there, he said he thought it was a horrible thing, and he would never ever have caused such a turmoil – but who knows if you can believe him? But that's what he said. A lot of people. I called [unintelligible – 00:25:19] because she had worked there at the Trade Center, but she and her husband are okay. They weren't there at the time. [Crosstalk – 00:25:27] KATHY: Hopefully all the planes are now secure. All right, ladies. RACHEL: Where are you going? KATHY: I'm going to the dentist now. I'm getting my teeth cleaned. I'll see you. Take care. Goodbye. Nice meeting you. AMELIA: So you asked me about what was it like growing up in a family of seven? LINDA: Yes. AMELIA: So where was I now? So my father went to Italy to claim his share of the inheritance. The family came from a business family, and they were well to do, and Papa was one of four. So he went back, and his brother, who was the oldest in the family, and he evidently didn't get along, so he didn't get anything. He just passed away in '31 when I was a sophomore and Christine was a senior in high school. We were a very close-knit family. We worked together and studied together, and as I said Christine and I 12 were very much interested in the library. We worked at the Naugatuck Public Library, and we got a scholarship that summer, both Chris and I. RACHEL: And she lived in Spain. AMELIA: Well, Christine studied Spanish. This is after I got married. LINDA: Which town was your family from in Italy? AMELIA: My mother was from Lacedonia. Her mother was born there, and of course Rachel's mother. Lacedonia [unintelligible – 00:27:45] Cavallino, Italy. And I've been to there. When I went with my husband after we married and lived there for two years, we were coming back to America and he said, "You've got to see where your mother was born." So we went to Lacedonia, and we met some relatives. I have pictures; that was back in Connecticut. And then we also went to visit my father's home place. My father came from [unintelligible – 00:28:13] in Italy, and we went to visit the family home. And at that time we met this aunt who I asked if I could visit my father's grave, and she had a niece of hers take me to the cemetery, and he was not buried in the family mausoleum. He was buried just as a commoner. She didn't want him there. So we visited… LINDA: What region is that in? AMELIA: Pardon? LINDA: The region. AMELIA: Well, it's all Campagna, it's all that region, it's Campagna, but it's [unintelligible – 00:28:55]. Mama's was Campagna also, but it was [unintelligible – 00:29:00]. It's a little inland from Naples, right. And you know, right at the foothills, going up to [unintelligible – 00:29:10], it's in the mountains, it's a little town by the name of Galluccio. It ends in an "o." Our name was Galluccio. When Papa came to Ellis Island in about 1902, the immigration authorities couldn't spell it, so they left the "o" out. So "Gallucci" means roosters, it's the plural. And "Galluccio" is the singular rooster.13 LINDA: That's interesting. AMELIA: And we have roosters all over the house. LINDA: Did your parents ever share with you their trip to Ellis Island? AMELIA: No. I don't remember, but I know my mother said that when they came to America with Grandpa and her sister Filomena, it was a rough crossing on the French ship Nuestri, N-U-E-S-T-R-I. Mama did tell me that. And she said it was a very rough crossing. LINDA: The courage… AMELIA: Oh yeah. I don't know what ship my father came on, but he must have come about the same time. LINDA: It's really simple now. There's a website, although it's impossible to log on. AMELIA: Oh, I know. My brother Donald had a hard time getting that information. Grandpa came on May 27, 1902. He did get that information. LINDA: So it sounds like you're a very educated family, or at least you and your sister. And musical, too. Who instilled those qualities? AMELIA: Pardon? LINDA: Who instilled those qualities? AMELIA: Well, when we came to visit Grandma in Fitchburg there was always music, you know. Uncle Joe played the violin, Bella played the piano, and the [Guiliamus] were all musicians in their family. The four girls all played an instrument. Did you know that? Yeah. Her sister Lena played the piano, Anna played the violin, Mary played the… LINDA: The saxophone. AMELIA: Saxophone. LINDA: And Helen, drums. AMELIA: Right. And Helen the drums. And then my father learned opera. We had an old mahogany victrola that you used to wind up, and we had all the records of Caruso and [Jean B.[ and [unintelligible - 00:31:45], so we grew up in a family that was always moving. [Crosstalk] So in fact, even now, they're still very much interested in music. The opera season starts 14 in Phoenix during the second week in October; that's one of the reasons I want to get back. LINDA: Yeah. Where do you go for opera? AMELIA: [Unintelligible - 00:32:19] LINDA: Yeah. They do have opera. I think the music season begins in mid-October. AMELIA: October, yes. Pavarotti is coming to Boston. Oh, I'd love to hear him. He came to Phoenix one season but we just couldn't get tickets. ANNA: [Unintelligible - 00:32:41]. It's a movie. AMELIA: Oh, that's right, yeah. LINDA: Well we'll have to make a copy of this if this is okay. ANNA: She's responsible. AMELIA: Oh yeah, I'm the family historian. I think that was my graduation. ANNA: I hardly recognize her. AMELIA: No, that was Peter's wedding. There's Aunt Rosella. My mother was the oldest. Aunt Clair was the next, then Aunt Fil was third, and Uncle Joe, and Aunt Rosella was the baby. Yes. Filomena, that's Rachel's mother. My mother and Aunt Fil came with Grandpa. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures of Grandpa. ANNA: That's Joe the violinist. AMELIA: Yeah, Uncle Joe. ANNA: I know. Clair and Rosella. LINDA: So how do you feel about Andrea Bocelli? Is he too much of a pop, more than opera? AMEILA: Well, I listened to him, and he hasn't come to Phoenix, but I still like Pavarotti, old days, more polished singing. Yes. LINDA: I went to see Andrea Bocelli when he was in Connecticut probably two years ago. AMELIA: He was in Connecticut? LINDA: It was at the Hartford Civic Center, and people were actually crying, waving Italian flags. It was quite an experience.15 AMELIA: I've seen him on television when they had that program, what was it? New York? LINDA: Radio City? AMELIA: Mm-hmm. LINDA: So mostly, I usually talk to interviewees about Fitchburg, but maybe what we should do -- actually, why don't we stay with Fitchburg a little bit since you attended school here, and you graduated in 1938? AMELIA: Yes. LINDA: So that means you began in '34? Was it a four-year program? AMELIA: It was a four-year program. I graduated from high school in '34. I got a scholarship for $150—that was money in those days—so I came to Fitchburg. LINDA: What was the tuition? Do you remember how much it was? AMELIA: Oh, I don't think tuition was -- well, being an out-of-stater was the reason why I had to pay more, and I think that the tuition was about $150 to $200. What I -- the scholarship I got in Naugatuck took care of that. But then the second year, being a resident of Fitchburg, I don't think there was much of a fee. LINDA: And was there any question of you attending college, or did you always assume that you would go on? AMELIA: Oh yeah, I always assumed that I would go on to college, and of course my sister, Christine, was very much interested going to school, but she and my brother had to work to support a family of seven and my mother, so because I had gotten a scholarship and Christine was working and Peter Paul at the time, right after high school, but she wanted to go to college so bad. So after I married, my husband said to me, "We've got to help your sister to go to school." So Christine after working for 26 years at Peter Paul went to college. She graduated from the University of Connecticut with a bachelor's, and she went on to study Spanish—she majored in Spanish—and she studied in Madrid and Mexico City. LINDA: What a nice story.16 AMELIA: And she's a retired teacher now. She doesn't teach now. Yeah. LINDA: So there were two of you from your family… AMELIA: Yeah, Christine and I, and my youngest sister Anna, she was interested in commercial, and she went into bookkeeping and that sort of thing. She went to a business school for a couple of years. And Donald too, the baby in the family -- oh dear, Rachel's going to take it out of me -- Christine, Connie, and I, we took that in Las Vegas. Yeah. ANNA: That's a nice picture. AMELIA: We're so close to Las Vegas; we go there a couple of times a year. Yeah. LINDA: So now getting back to Fitchburg, you came in 1934. AMELIA: Right. Four years. LINDA: Did you consider going to college anywhere else, or did you consider only Fitchburg? AMELIA: No, I considered -- maybe it's because we had relatives there. You know, my grandmother was still there and mama said, "It would be nice if we could come and visit you," and so on. ANNA: Was that a normal school then? AMELIA: Well no, it was the Fitchburg Teacher's College. It was known as a teacher's college. It trains teachers and industrial arts teachers. LINDA: That's right. AMELIA: But now they teach everything, don't they? Amazing. LINDA: And who did you live with? AMELIA: I lived with my Uncle Joe and grandmother at 82 Blossom Street. LINDA: Did you and Anna and Rachel go to visit? AMELIA: Oh yeah. Always together. LINDA: What kinds of things did you do together for fun activities? AMELIA: Oh, we used to go to Whalen. We used to go to Whalen Park, we went swimming. We used to go on picnics and family gatherings. Anna's mother was a great cook. LINDA: All of you were unmarried at this time?17 AMELIA: Yes. We were all single. I married late in life. I think it was 37 when I got married. ANNA: I still remember that time. AMELIA: Yeah, you were still in high school, Anna. And we attended concerts. Uncle played with the -- what was it? ANNA: The symphony. AMELIA: No, that was in Boston. He played with a band here in Fitchburg. What was it called? ANNA: It was a marching band, Fitchburg Community Band. They had Sunday afternoons at Caldwell Park. AMELIA: Yeah, Caldwell Park. Right. So we used to go to that. LINDA: Tell me more about that, about the concerts at the park. Was there a bandstand? ANNA: Gazebo, right? On Mirror Lake. LINDA: It's still there? I played there too. AMELIA: Do they still have concerts there now? ANNA: Mm-hmm. Sunday afternoon. AMELIA: Tell me what it was like going. For example, did you dress in your Sunday's finest to go? AMELIA: Oh yeah, we always did dress on Sunday. ANNA: We didn't wear jeans and sneakers unless you were in your own backyard. And if you had to go downtown, you had to change your clothes. AMELIA: Right. And girls always had to wear stockings. ANNA: And skirts or dresses. On Sunday you'd have your hat and gloves and bag. AMELIA: Oh yeah, and attend church first, right? LINDA: And when you would go downtown and it wasn't Sunday, would you wear a hat and gloves, or was that primarily… AMELIA: I think that was mostly for church on Sundays. ANNA: But you always dressed to go downtown. AMELIA: Oh yeah.18 ANNA: I think they had more pride in their appearance than they do today. I used to pick up my mother as well, and she always had the hat and the gloves, and they had to match. Every Easter you had to go out and buy a new hat. LINDA: Would you go downtown by yourselves, or would you travel with girls? ANNA: We would walk most of the time. A mile and a half was nothing, right? There were no cars. You'd walk downtown, and I think the main activity was going to a movie once a week. I liked going to the movies. And then you'd stop and have an ice cream on the way home. AMELIA: Uh-huh, and wasn't there a movie at Blossom Street theater where Uncle used to play? The Cummings Theater. That's right. And they always had music there, and it was live music. ANNA: Right. Because Uncle Joe played the violin there. AMELIA: Oh, but Blossom Street has changed so. ANNA: Oh, it's terrible. LINDA: What was it like then? Your memories? AMELIA: They were nice-looking buildings, there were some -- what was that building where your mother worked with Mr. [Burren]? That brick building. ANNA: [Chimmers]. AMELIA: And then there was an apartment there next to that, and Dr. Ames, who lived right next to Uncle Joe, that was a nice building. And across the street from Uncle Joe's building was the -- what was that funeral home? ANNA: No, that was the Knight of Columbus home. AMELIA: Oh, the Knights of Columbus home was next to that. So they were good-looking buildings, and they have taken me up there last year and this year, and I just don't… ANNA: Oh I know. It's sad. LINDA: What happened? AMELIA: I think a lot of Puerto Ricans have come in, haven't they? And a lot of blacks have moved in. And for some reason or another, the buildings are not kept up. You should see what they did to Uncle Joe's building. Now,19 Uncle Joe's—the house that he lived in—was a beautiful classical building. The man who built it was a contractor. I can't think of his name. He was a contractor and had beautiful columns on the porch, and whoever lives there now boarded it all up. It's not the same Blossom Street. ANNA: They were mansions, I think, on the street at that time. Beautiful mansions. Big homes and huge homes. And there are other things now. AMELIA: Right. Although, the upper part of Blossom Street is not as bad. It's still very -- it's still a nice neighborhood. And that's where Mike lived didn't he? Mike, your son? ANNA: Yeah. I think it's still nice. AMELIA: And I used to walk from Blossom Street along Pearl Street all the way to teacher's college every morning. ANNA: We did a lot more walking in those days than we do today. AMELIA: Ann, didn't you walk down from where you lived to go for your violin lesson with your violin in your hand? ANNA: Yeah. AMELIA: And your mother always walked to church, every morning. LINDA: I imagine that you're talking pretty much great distances? Like a mile and a half. AMELIA: Oh, I would say a good mile and a half, two miles, yes. ANNA: And I walked that to high school. A couple of miles. LINDA: You must have felt very safe. AMELIA: Yes. There are a lot more cars now than we had, too. ANNA: Especially in Coggshall Park. Nowadays they warn you not to walk alone. Walk as a pair. AMELIA: Right. And it was even safe at night walking. You can't do that today. LINDA: We can't have any movement on the table. I'm just afraid that we're not going to -- I feel bad telling you, but I don't want the tape to be… [Crosstalk - 00:44:50]20 ANNA: They would freeze it in the wintertime, and we used to walk up there for skating, ice skating. We'd come home at 9:00. There were no lights on, you know. But we had no fear. LINDA: When would you say things start to change? ANNA: After the '40s, I think. LINDA: After the '40s? ANNA: After the '50s? AMELIA: I know sometimes in Connecticut, when I used to go to meetings in Waterbury and I wasn't driving, I would take the bus home at night, even as late as 11:00, and walk up the hill to Culver Street where we lived then, and it was still safe. I would say, yeah, maybe I would say starting with the fifties, it wasn't safe, you know, to walk, to be alone. LINDA: So what happened though? Did people lose a sense of pride? ANNA: I think so. In the city we have the hippies and the campus unrest in the '60s. LINDA: But did anything like that happen specifically in Fitchburg? ANNA: Well, you read of accidents and crimes, and they would happen in the areas like Coggshall Park, for instance, and there were crimes up there. And then, you would, be wise not to go, and you wouldn't walk alone. And now, I don't think you'd even go up there in the daytime by yourself, never mind at night. LINDA: Well, I'm wondering is it a gradual feeling to see your city decay a little bit? I'm not from Worcester, but I've lived in Worcester since 1978, and that was certainly after the heyday and the booming industry, and things started, I suppose, or had already gone downhill. Now there's a real rebirth, but I was wondering, how do you feel living in a city you're so proud of and that your parents came to make a better life, and they worked so hard to make your life better, and they worked very hard to own their own home and they probably took very good care of it and had a garden in the back, whatever. And how do you feel, just being part of that generation that saw both ways of life: the working hard, striving hard, 21 having to work for every penny, to perhaps new ethnic groups coming in and being given money and not working? ANN: That's right. That's happening. AMELIA: I know when our parents came, a lot of them went to South America because they weren't allowed -- the immigration laws today are a lot more lax, I think. They allow everyone to come in, but at the time that our parents came to the United States, the laws were a lot stricter. A lot of them went to South America. Now, Grandpa's brother emigrated to South America, Argentina. He couldn't come here to the States, couldn't come to America. A lot of them went to Argentina and Australia, too. LINDA: Did your dad have to come -- so he must have tried to come later. AMELIA: Yeah, a little later. That's when the immigration laws, I think they were a little strict. But today they're allowing all types of people to come in. I don't know why, and… ANNA: There's a lot more crime. Either that or we're hearing about it. AMELIA: Well, I think when we were brought up we didn't have television. If we had radio, we were lucky to have a radio, and we were taught to knit, and to crochet, and to sew. Children are not taught that today. Our parents were at home. When we came home from school our parents were home, and they taught us all these crafts. Today, parents are working, they're not at home, they have television. I think we have a lot more outside influences that affect our way of living. And with the drug trade, too -- we didn't have that when we were growing up. I think that's why we had such change. LINDA: When you were growing up and you came home from school, your mother was there cleaning, cooking, washing. AMELIA: That's right. Washing clothes or getting ready for -- uh-huh. LINDA: And you were probably expected to help? AMELIA: Well, Mama would say to me, "You do your homework, and afterwards you can help me." And she taught me how to sew. I used to make all my clothes through high school. Of course I don't have time now, but yeah, 22 young people were taught crafts. They were taught to knit and sew and crochet. Kids don't know how to do that today. LINDA: What about values? ANNA: We were taught to say "Thank you," [unintelligible - 00:50:23]. AMELIA: Yeah, that, too, has changed, and I think it's all because of the fact that mothers are not at home to teach their children, and there are a lot more outside influences that affect children, and they don't have mannerisms. I don't know why but… ANNA: Well it all comes from the family background. AMELIA: Yeah, well that's true. ANNA: It's a changing world. LINDA: As I sit here and record, I'm interested in my own family history too, and that's really how I got involved in this project: because my great-grandmother and my great-grandfather came from Italy. AMELIA: Really? What part? LINDA: Calabria. AMELIA: Calabria, yes. LINDA: Sometimes I wish—and I know a lot of people from my generation—almost wish we could go back to a more simple time. And a lot o f times what I hear is that we have too many choices today, and that confuses people. Do you feel that you had choices growing up? AMELIA: Yes. I think they were restricted. There were certain things that we had to do, and after we completed those, then there were choices. ANNA: A handful. AMELIA: Well, I didn't have to be told to do my homework but if I hadn't done my homework and if I hadn't helped my mother with some of the cooking, then I was rewarded on Sunday. We were given five cents, and we could do whatever we want. And she would take us shopping and buy us a new pair of shoes or something that we don't usually have at home. But today I think the children have too much. At the age of 16 they're taught -- they're given a car. At the age of 16.23 LINDA: Now, if someone from your generation ever had a car at 16, would they have to work for it? ANNA: I don't think that would happen. If you had your license you may borrow. If you had to do an errand, borrow your parents'. For your own benefit? I don't think that would happen. AMELIA: I think that children are given too much today by their parents. Look at the parking lot, the high school parking lot. The cars that are there, I think that creates a lot of trouble. I think the parents are partly to blame for the shenanigans of the young people. They're not fit for them; they haven't taught them the value of… ANNA: Even bus transportation, you know, they were all bussed to school, then they join the gym for exercise. AMELIA: Right. LINDA: I never thought of that. ANNA: They could walk, save a lot of money. AMELIA: Of course, they use the excuse that there's a lot more traffic, which is true, and there is a lot more traffic and more dangers, that's true. ANNA: We have a lot of traffic here. Worse, isn't it? LINDA: But as I talk to second-generation Italian Americans and, again, just going back one generation, everyone had to work hard, and all of you seem very happy and stable and have good values. Are those being promoted in your own families? ANNA: In my family, I think I passed it on to my children. They're all good. And I think they are passing it on to their children. But they're still young, and you wonder, as they grow up are they going to get into other things. You don't know. There's a lot of outside influences now. AMELIA: That's right. Going to school and intermingling with other children, other children that haven't had the upbringing and are taught the values that you have taught yours, and they're influenced by them, you know. LINDA: How much of that is an Italian-American experience? ANNA: I think it is a Italian-American experience.24 AMELIA: Oh, definitely. I think there is that among the Italian-American families. ANNA: There's that spiritual and moral life. AMELIA: And helping within the family. ANNA: They're helping their family by helping other families too. AMELIA: As well, yeah. ANNA: You see that need and you try to alleviate the problem if you can, lessen the problem. AMELIA: And the fact that they're Catholic religion helps, you know, from the start, and you can bring it on to your children. ANNA: Loads of people don't go to church like they used to. AMELIA: That's true. ANNA: I think that should help a lot. Truthfully. LINDA: Speaking of church, did all of you -- perhaps not you, but you probably attended St. Anthony's? AMELIA: Oh yeah, my mother was married there. Rachel's mother, your mother. St. Anthony's of Padua, is that the St. Anthony's… ANNA: St. Anthony of Padua. I was there until I married, and then I moved to Leominster. LINDA: So you think that that was a great influence on people? ANNA: Definitely. AMELIA: Oh yeah. I think it's up to the parents to instill that in their children, and I think among the Italian Americans it's far greater than maybe in any other group. Don't you think, Anna? ANNA: I do, yes. It probably came from the old country too. And if you go to Catholic school, that all helps. LINDA: Now, did both of you go to Catholic school? AMELIA: No. There wasn't any. No. ANNA: The only reason I was able to go to St. Bernard's for eight years was because Uncle gave them lessons. AMELIA: Oh, at St. Bernard's school? ANNA: You don't remember that?25 AMELIA: No. ANNA: I think that helped them to get that in. AMELIA: Grammar school? ANNA: Grammar school. Eight years. LINDA: They didn't allow Italians, or there wasn't enough room for Italians? Which was it? ANNA: I think it was mostly their own parishioners, right? The children of their own parishioners that would attend the St. Bernard's school. And it wasn't until the mid '60s that the other parishes built their own schools. AMELIA: But did you have to pay anything to attend? Oh you did. There was a minimum. Uh-huh. I know that the Catholic school that we have in Naugatuck, they have a lot of the children from not necessarily the Irish or the Italian, but a lot of the Protestants are going there too. They feel that they're doing a better job teaching than they are in the public schools. ANNA: I think it is that way now. I think there are Protestants of other nationalities who go to, for instance, St. Anna's school, which is a mostly Italian parish. But I'd say half of the students at the school are of other nationalities. AMELIA: Yeah, and the tuition is very high too. ANNA: Yes. It's not affordable for many, many people. AMELIA: I know my sister Christine, she made a donation to the appropriate school in Naugatuck, and she gets thank-you notes from parents saying "Thank you, we appreciate the scholarship that you gave to our child so he could attend a Catholic school." LINDA: So tell me: what it was like going to St. Anthony's? ANNA: Church. AMELIA: I don't recall, because I was a little girl when we left Fitchburg, but we went to Naugatuck. And as Anna said before, we would dress up in our finest, you know, and attend mass. And then after that go home and have a nice big Italian dinner with the family. ANNA: The whole family would go to church together.26 AMELIA: Father and mother and children, yeah. LINDA: And when would you go to confession? AMELIA: The day before, Saturday. ANNA: About two in the afternoon, you'd be called in. "Clean up, get ready for confession. Dress. Go to church." Confession, I haven't gone in years. AMELIA: And we always dressed up. Isn't it a shame to see children in shorts going to church? ANNA: The parents sometimes are worse than the kids. LINDA: If you weren't going to a parochial school and you were Catholic, where did your Catholic education come from? AMELIA: They had classes. ANNA: They did? AMELIA: Yeah. ANNA: The parish had nuns, and Saturday would be catechism. Saturday morning. And in fact, a lot of -- we spoke of knitting and crocheting and embroidery. They would have classes taught by the nuns. AMELIA: The nuns would teach, yeah. ANNA: And your summer was not spent out on the street. You'd go to a school where you would learn to embroider and crochet and knit. Cutwork, beautiful cutwork. Nuns would teach. And this is how summers would go. LINDA: Every day? Every day of the summer? ANNA: Every day. You'd have either the morning session or the afternoon. Or both. If your parents -- especially if the mother was working, the nuns would take over. LINDA: When you were kids or even when you came to college here in Fitchburg, did you ever go to any of the social clubs with Anna or Rachel, or…? ANNA: Marconi Club. AMELIA: Oh, that's right. Was that in Fitchburg? ANNA: Yes. AMELIA: I don't remember.27 ANNA: They still have it, but you weren't [unintelligible - 01:02:36]. AMELIA: Your father was really [unintelligible - 01:01:44]. Oh yes. ANNA: He built that club. AMELIA: Oh really? ANNA: He built the building, and all the Italians that came from that region would meet with him. AMELIA: Do they still have…? ANNA: The still have it. AMELIA: They still have it. Isn't that nice? LINDA: Did you belong to any social clubs in Connecticut? ANNA: There weren't that many there. AMELIA: Yeah, they did have a social club. I remember going to high school with my sister Christine and some of the other Italian girls living down with [Litley], that's where we lived, we would get together every Saturday night, and we would knit or sew or crochet or do something. ANNA: Parishes had social clubs. We had the Children of Mary that all the young girls that were not married would belong to that, and they would meet maybe once a week, and they would have breakfasts, trips; they would organize trips. Then they had the Lady of Mount Carmel for the married women, and they would have the Sacred Heart of Jesus for the men, the young boys. And they would organize trips, and there would be a bus going up to Caldwell Park -- not a bus, they would walk there -- but there would be a bus maybe going to some other distant park where they would take a picnic lunch. I remember going up to Simon Park… AMELIA: Oh, the family. ANNA: Yes. We would cook the dinner at home and bring it up there and eat with all the friends at Simon Park, right? That was… AMELIA: Still around? ANNA: Yes. So I think that was the social life. It was all within the parish or the Italian-American community. LINDA: Amelia, when did you get your interest in art?28 AMELIA: Interest in art? Well, that started in high school. I was very much interested in art. Our high school, Naugatuck High School, had a lot of Roman statues throughout the corridors, and they took -- it was through the library that we took courses, my sister Christine and I. We would go there and they would have different people in the community talk about art during the time of the Romans, during the time of the Middle Ages and so on. LINDA: So when you came to Fitchburg was the art museum established? AMELIA: No. I wasn't down; I don't know if it was established at the time. I had become interested in the art museum just recently after Fitchburg State College, last year when I told Mr. Peter Chin, who is the Director of the Fitchburg Art Museum, that I was very much interested in Western civilization, and that's when we became involved In Fitchburg State College working with the museum. LINDA: Do you ever wonder how your life would have been different if you perhaps fell in love and married someone from Fitchburg? AMELIA: Not necessarily, no. I think that the man that I married was a businessman and very much interested in Italian culture. Even though my father and mother instilled in me the love of Italy and the love of Italian culture, I still feel that he got me more interested. We've traveled to Italy and saw a lot of art, architecture, and learned more about our background. LINDA: How did you meet him? AMELIA: Oh -- did you ask me that question the other day? Someone asked me, "How did you meet your husband?" LINDA: Maybe I did. AMELIA: Well, I was studying here at -- it was during the time I got my master's at BU, and Uncle Joe played with the Boston Symphony in Boston. And they were having a concert, and -- oh no, I was teaching in Naugatuck -- and they were having a concert in Boston, so I took a train from New Haven to Boston. I was supposed to meet my uncle. And on the train, I went into the dining car, and there was a gentleman sitting across, and he 29 looked over and he said to me, "May I join you?" I said yes, so we had dinner together, and it was my husband whom I had met. ANNA: She was getting the idea. AMELIA: Yeah, so we started correspondence, and that went 'til he came to see to visit my mother and the family and so on. And the summer of '52 we got married. 1952. That's a long time ago, isn't it? LINDA: Did he live in Boston? AMELIA: No, he had a -- his place of business was in Brooklyn. He was originally from New York, and he had a vending repair shop and did very well. And he was going to Italy in '92, and he said to me, "Why don't we go together?" LINDA: In '52? AMELIA: Yeah, in 1952. So that's when I got married. And we married and then we went to Italy on honeymoon on the Conta Bianca Ma, on the ship that my father sailed on, never returned. And we stopped in North Africa, in Casablanca and all those beautiful places, Algiers, and -- with the ship, you know, Conta Bianca Ma, it took about 12 days and many of the passengers aboard that ship were World War II veterans. So we had a lot to talk about because my kid brother, Tommy was… ANNA: In the service. AMELIA: In the service, right. And then we got into Sicily and then went to Naples and disembarked and traveled all over Italy. We lived in the Busi area for two years, and in '54 we returned to America, and then that's when I went to see, visit my mother's home place. My husband said, "You can't leave Italy without seeing your mother and father's birthplace!" and that's… LINDA: So had he sold his business in Brooklyn and went to… AMELIA: Yeah, he sold his place in Brooklyn and wanted to get married, and he always wanted an Italian-American girl, so that was it. LINDA: Was he older than you? AMELIA: Yes. He was about nine years older than I. He died in 19 -- very bright man. He had a lot of money. He went to Phoenix and invested in 30 property, but we came back every summer because it was hot in Phoenix, temperature of 107, 108, 110, and we used to come back to Connecticut and then we went to Italy. I've been on all the liners: the Sistulia, the Independent, the Lucania, the Julius Caesar. LINDA: So did you enjoy taking a liner instead of -- do you still do that? AMELIA: No, we fly. The only liner, really, is the Queen Elizabeth, and then you go to London. I took that in '92. My sister, Connie, on the Queen Elizabeth about five days, and then we flew back on the Concorde. Nice experience. LINDA: What was that like? AMELIA: Oh, in 3 hours, 19 minutes, we were at Kennedy from London. LINDA: Do you feel differently when you're on that plane? AMELIA: It was wonderful. There was absolutely no turbulence, and my sister Connie is definitely afraid of flying. And even on the Concorde she said, "Are we all right? Are we all right?" Lovely, smooth flight. LINDA: What was it like taking off? AMELIA: You hardly know you take off, and we did not aboard the Concorde from the outside. They have a beautiful reception room where you go in from the airport. Let's see, what was it? What was the airport? ANNA: Kennedy? AMELIA: No, in London. Heathrow. Right. And you approach it from the inside, a beautiful dining room where they had all kinds of food, breakfast and all kinds of drinks, champagne in "orange," as it's called, boxes, which is mimosa, it's a mimosa. And all kinds of things. So actually, we boarded the Concorde from the inside. I wanted to get on from the outside so you could see her, you know. A wonderful experience. LINDA: But do you feel yourself really reaching great heights? AMELIA: No, you don't. You don't feel a thing. In about five minutes, we had climbed 26,000 miles. LINDA: Incredible.31 AMELIA: I have all those pictures in an album with all the notations. Yep, it's such a voluminous thing that I didn't want to take with me. But that was lovely. I'd like to do it again. LINDA: Well on July 17th, I was leaving London and there were cameras everywhere and I thought "Oh no," and we pulled into the airport and I thought there was a plane crash but it was the first Concorde taking off after that crash, I think from Paris. AMELIA: Yeah, Paris. Right. LINDA: They're rebuilding. AMELIA: Oh, they're rebuilding it? Have you been on a Concorde? LINDA: No. AMELIA: Oh, I see. Quite an experience. I think we reached the height of 58,000 feet. LINDA: Incredible. AMELIA: Wonderful. You don't feel yourself descending at all. And the food they serve, everyone has an individual table, there's all kind of linens and sterling silver. There are only 96 passengers. We tried -- Christine was supposed to come with us. She said, "No, I don't want to come." But she said she'd like to go on the Concorde. ANNA: Sounds like Connie. AMELIA: Yeah, I think British Airways -- what is it? About nine hours to cross? I think it's a long flight. LINDA: Well, it's longer coming back because of the wind. Actually, I think it's a little bit less now, maybe seven. So did you ever feel different being Italian? AMELIA: No, I don't. I'm very proud to be an Italian. LINDA: Yeah, I know. But ever growing up, did you ever feel discriminated? AMELIA: No, because at home my father always talked about Italians and what they've contributed, you know. And he was an educated man. In fact, did you know that my father was supposed to be a priest? LINDA: No, I didn't know that.32 AMELIA: Yeah. He attended -- what do they call it? Gymnasio was their high school. Was that right? LINDA: Gym -- AMELIA: Gymnasio. Is that the word for gymnasio? Papa attended the… yes, Papa attended the gymnasio, which was the high school, and then he attended Luceo, which is the junior college. ANNA: This is where? AMELIA: In Italy, in [Salunca]. Most families that had visited, they were bakers and they had a nice -- most families sent one child to study to be a priest, and my father was chosen. He was there two years and he didn't like it. What he saw, he didn't like. So he got on his horse and ran away, and the horse was riding along, went galloping up along a body of water. And he was so afraid that the horse was going to go into the water, so my father threw himself off and he had a great big gash here. Yeah. I remember him telling me that. Now there was always -- my father always told us about things of Italy, you know. Things Italy had done and the records that we played so that there was always culture at home. I was always proud to be an Italian. LINDA: So you're hoping that Alba Program, is that what you… AMELIA: Yes. LINDA: What does Alba mean? AMELIA: Alba means dawn, and since these young people are young, they're just beginning, the beginning of the day, Alba. And I gave it that name, and we've been doing that for five years in Waterbury. And I have an appointment at the University of Connecticut, where my sister graduated, and I have three nieces, all graduated from the University of Connecticut, majored in Italian. They have their doctorate in Italian. So I want to set up a center for the study of Italian culture there. I'm meeting with them on Monday of next week. LINDA: At the University of Connecticut? AMELIA: Yes. UConn, we call it. 33 LINDA: They have the Oral History Project. Like, at the Dodd Center I think they call it. AMELIA: I don't know. I'm meeting one of my nieces who teaches at UConn. She teaches Renaissance art, and she's going to take me there. Do you know any of the professors there? John Davis, I have an appointment with him. LINDA: So what was the turning point for you to start donating? AMELIA: To what? LINDA: Start donating money and trying to establish… AMELIA: My husband was always interested in doing something for -- in the school system, and it was he that said I should contact the Italian-American community in Waterbury when they advertised they wanted money for the Italian classes. Remember I told you? So shortly after he died, I decided to do that, and he was a very smart man at buying property, and I have sold property that has run into the millions, and I want to donate it to the school. So that's why I'm donating to the Center for Italian Culture, to Fitchburg State, to Post College in Waterbury, and to UConn. And also, the Society for the Promotion of Roman Studies in London, I am a lifetime member there, and my husband was always interested in that. LINDA: How did that come about? AMELIA: I just love Western civilization. Done a lot of reading, and then there are -- the Romans occupied London for almost -- let's see, about 500 years, and they are very proud of what the Romans had given to London. In fact, Queen Elizabeth, when she visited Italy and she attended one of the sessions of Parliament, she got up and said, "I want to thank you people for bringing civilization to London." So we are members for the Society of Promotion of Roman Studies, and they will be a contributor upon my death. I mention them in my will. It was he, really, my husband that started all this interest in Western civilization. LINDA: Truly admirable. /AT/pa/rjh/es

Interview with Irene Beaudoin of Leominster, Massachusetts. Her husband Bill was also present. Topics include: Irene's father came to Leominster, MA from New Brunswick, Canada in 1894, when he was sixteen years old. Her mother's family was from Canada, but her mother was born in West Boylston, MA. Her father's work history, how he eventually ended up in the insurance business. Her parents met and were married in Leominster, MA. Her parents' involvement with Saint Cecelia's parish in Leominster, MA. Where Irene and Bill went to school as children. Rumors surrounding a fire that burnt the original parish school. Irene went on to Leominster High school, Becker College, beauty school in Worcester, and then worked as a hairdresser until she was married. Her father's work in real estate and as the director of the Leominster Home Federal Bank. Her father's work on the Selective Service Board. Organizations her father belonged to and his work to help Franco-Americans become citizens. Bill and ; 1 SPEAKER 1: Where, where were you born, Irene? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Right here in Leominster. SPEAKER 1: Right here in Leominster? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm. SPEAKER 1: And your maiden name? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Uh, Lejier. SPEAKER 1: Lejier. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm. SPEAKER 1: Um, your parents, where did they come from? IRENE BEAUDOIN: My father came from New Brunswick, and my mother was born right here in the United States in West Boylston. SPEAKER 1: Uh, about when did your father come to the United States? IRENE BEAUDOIN: In 1894. SPEAKER 1: How old was he then? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Sixteen. SPEAKER 1: Why did he come here? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, I guess he just heard so much about the U.S. he decided he, you know, wanted to come out here and he had 50 cents in his pocket when he came out. SPEAKER 1: And when you say 'when he came out' where is that? Uh, did he arrive here Worcester or Leominster or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, he came to Leominster and from what I can remember he was waiting for a train to take him to Rhode Island, [unintelligible - 0:00:55] Rhode Island, but evidently he didn't like and came back to Leominster and found work. And then a short while after he was here, he found work at the woodshop in – back on [unintelligible - 0:01:12]. I can't remember. BILL BEAUDOIN: Bartlett. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Bartlett. And he finally became superintendent of the manufacturing company but had to leave because he was getting 2 wood sawdust in the lung and the doctor told him either he had to leave or he would die within a year, which he did leave. SPEAKER 1: So, what did he do after that? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well he had to take a year's absence [unintelligible - 0:01:46] and went back to his home in New Brunswick and stayed there for six months until he felt better and came back here. And then he started a grocery business, and then from that, he went into the insurance company. SPEAKER 1: Where was his grocery business? IRENE BEAUDOIN: On 6th Street going down the hill. SPEAKER 1: On 6th Street? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mechanic. BILL BEAUDOIN: [Unintelligible - 0:02:13]. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, [unintelligible - 0:02:16]. SPEAKER 1: Oh is that right? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm. SPEAKER 1: Yeah. Oh, they had a store there. How long was he in business there? IRENE BEAUDOIN: That I don't know. I couldn't tell you how long he was in the grocery. I really have no idea. He was in a few years, but how long, I don't know. SPEAKER 1: Right. About when was that, what year approximately? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Perhaps '96,'97. SPEAKER 1: I see. So, your father was a very [unintelligible - 0:02:50] businessman in the French community. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm. You see for a while he worked for a Mr. [Wingman] who owned a grocery store, and from there, this is how he got started in the grocery business. SPEAKER 1: So, did he cater mostly to the Franco-Americans? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh yes. He – I remember him telling me. So, he used to deliver, you know, the [unintelligible - 0:03:17] and he used to do this at 3 night many times and he used to carry these heavy bags of flour and sugar. SPEAKER 1: The location is right on the edge of what's called French Hill and then when you get down below there are many Italians. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Do you know if… IRENE BEAUDOIN: There were Italians at the time, yes. SPEAKER 1: There were Italians there at the time. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes. SPEAKER 1: And do you know if they bought from the store also? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, yes. There were, you know, neighbors around that area that would come to the store to buy that were Italian. SPEAKER 1: In that case, did he have a language difficulty or did he have enough knowledge of English to carry him through or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: I think my mother helped him a lot in that area because I do believe he spoke French. I don't believe he knew too much English at the time but… SPEAKER 1: Well, you mentioned that your mother spoke English then. IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right. SPEAKER 1: Where did she learn the English? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, she had to go to public school. There were no parochial schools where she came from. SPEAKER 1: Was your mother born in the United States? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, she was born in West Boylston. SPEAKER 1: She was born in West Boylston, and what was her name? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Gonville. SPEAKER 1: Gonville. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: Was that related to the Gonvilles that lived on 7th Street when they were here? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Sure.4 SPEAKER 1: Oh, it was. IRENE BEAUDOIN: The father was my mother's brother. SPEAKER 2: [Unintelligible - 0:04:55]. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Of course. They lived right near you. SPEAKER 1: Yes, now I remember. I remember my folks mentioning it, yeah. Well, you mentioned they were born here? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Now who are you talking about, my mother? SPEAKER 1: Your mother, I'm sorry, your mother. IRENE BEAUDOIN: In West Boylston. SPEAKER 1: In West Boylston, I see. So, what brought her here? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Because they took the town over to make a reservoir and that's the reason why she came up here. SPEAKER 1: I see. Well, have your grandparents on your mother's side lived in the United States for a while? Did they come from Canada? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, they've been here for a long time, yes. SPEAKER 1: They had been here for a while? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: I see. You don't recall anyone mentioning when… IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, no. Evidently they've been here for a long time because my grandfather owned the grocery store and the fish market in West Boylston. SPEAKER 1: In the area as a reservoir? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes, yeah. SPEAKER 1: I see. IRENE BEAUDOIN: In fact, it was their home, and the store evidently was very close to the church that still remains there but just collapsed. SPEAKER 1: Oh, is that right? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. So, your mother went to the public schools of West Boylston, picked up her English, and somewhere she met your father. Was that Leominster or in West Boylston?5 IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, when she came out here to look for work after the –you know, preparing to make the reservoir. SPEAKER 1: Oh I see. She came here to look for work. And where did she go for work? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Clewett's. SPEAKER 1: At Clewett. IRENE BEAUDOIN: And then she did work in a dry goods store downtown. SPEAKER 1: Do you recall the dry goods store? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, but it would be in the vicinity of the Metropolitan Theater, in that area. SPEAKER 1: Do you ever recall your mother talking about wages and working conditions at Clewett's at the time? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, I remember them saying how, you know, the wages were like perhaps $7 a week is what they earned. SPEAKER 1: Did they consider that good or was she satisfied or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, evidently that was about what everyone earned in shops at that time. SPEAKER 1: Do you remember if your mother ever mentioned the people that worked at Clewett's, whether or not they were Franco-Americans largely or a great number of them or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, there were several French people working there, but I think the majority were American and Irish, I think, more than French. SPEAKER 1: I see. And that would be approximately what year or what time? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Probably around, you know, 18… SPEAKER 1: '96? IRENE BEAUDOIN: '96, '97, '98, around. SPEAKER 1: Right around there. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, around that, yeah. SPEAKER 1: All right. So then your parents met in Leominster. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm, and were married here in Leominster.6 SPEAKER 1: And were married here in Leominster. Where were they married? IRENE BEAUDOIN: At Saint Cecilia's. SPEAKER 1: At Saint Cecilia's. So by the time they met, the Saint Cecilia's had been established as a parish? IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right. It was a very small church but it was already established, but they helped the parish grow. I believe they were married by Father Balthasard. SPEAKER 1: -Which was the first pastor. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm. Yeah, they were married by Farther Balthasard. SPEAKER 1: Your parents were married, your mother worked at Clewett's, and your father had his grocery store. Now, you say he remained in business three or four years, what did you say? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, possibly longer because he started in the insurance business in 1919. SPEAKER 1: Oh I see, so from just prior to 1900 until 1919, he was in the grocery business. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Right. SPEAKER 1: Where did he start his insurance business and how? IRENE BEAUDOIN: He started from this own home. SPEAKER 1: Up on 6th Street? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, on Mechanic Street. SPEAKER 1: On Mechanic at this point. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm, and from there he had his office across the street from the church. I believe there's a hairdressing parlor there. [Unintelligible - 0:09:50] was on one side and my father's office was on the opposite side. I don't know who's in there now, but then he moved from there to the present location, which is at the corner of Walker and Mechanic. SPEAKER 1: I see. What kind of businesses? You mentioned insurance business. What did he do, sell insurance or…?7 IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. He started with life insurance and then into all types of insurance: general insurance, car, fire insurance and automobile insurance. SPEAKER 1: So, he became an agent for various insurances. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Right. SPEAKER 1: How long was he in that insurance business? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, when he left, it was 50 years. He retired two years after they saw the 50th anniversary. SPEAKER 1: He left the business. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: He sold that business. IRENE BEAUDOIN: He sold it, right. SPEAKER 1: When he first started, did he make it a habit or did he try to cater specifically to Franco-Americans or did he…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes, he did. SPEAKER 1: He did. IRENE BEAUDOIN: He did but he had all types, all nationalities that came to the office for insurance. He was liked, very well-liked by all, yeah, and he helped a lot of people. Grandma said that he did help a lot of people, but no one else knew about it. SPEAKER 1: Yeah. Was he associated in any way with a Mr. Gordon who was also in the insurance business? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No. He was always alone in business. No one that I – I know he worked in the insurance [unintelligible - 0:11:52]. SPEAKER 1: So, he was a very early parishioner at Saint Cecilia's, one of the founders of the parish. I presume that he became an active member of the parish? IRENE BEAUDOIN: They both were very active, raising funds to someday build the church that we now have. SPEAKER 1: Were they involved in preparing for the original school? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, yes, they worked very hard for that.8 SPEAKER 1: Did you go to that school? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes, I sure did. I graduated from there. BILL BEAUDOIN: We were going to school there when the fire… IRENE BEAUDOIN: The fire broke out. BILL BEAUDOIN: When the school burned down and we went to class in various houses around. IRENE BEAUDOIN: I went in [Lamont's]. BILL BEAUDOIN: I went to [Holme's] house which was where the school yard is now. SPEAKER 1: Oh yeah. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. BILL BEAUDOIN: There was an old house there. That's where I went to school. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, and I went in Lamont's Hall which is… SPEAKER 1: It's across the street. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. BILL BEAUDOIN: It was in the old town square. That's where I went to school. She went to… IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, something's now. SPEAKER 1: There was approximately a thousand students in the school at the time. Where did they all go? IRENE BEAUDOIN: In homes. BILL BEAUDOIN: All over third… IRENE BEAUDOIN: Third and fourth. Different people offered their homes and converted a room or two into classrooms. And then there were several classes in Lamont's Hall. They divided that up into, you know, several classes. I don't remember how many. BILL BEAUDOIN: Then we got the old church, the old church, the old white church which is where the [back lot], where the present school is – or the present church. SPEAKER 1: When they built the school, the first brick school, did they have the church in there?9 IRENE BEAUDOIN: No. They still had the… SPEAKER 1: They still had the white… IRENE BEAUDOIN: White church across the street. And they had a school house there, next to the church. BILL BEAUDOIN: They had the eighth and ninth grades there. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Right, right. SPEAKER 1: Yes, I think I remember the same pictures – IRENE BEAUDOIN: I remember it, but we didn't go to school there ourselves; in fact, my cousin, Sister [Elinya] who was a convent girl taught there. And I remember, you know, having to go there with my mother to visit her, but I never attended school in that building. SPEAKER 1: Where is your cousin now, the nun? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, she passed away quite a few years ago. SPEAKER 1: Quite a few years ago. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: All right. Now, the first time I asked this question, I've heard stories told about the fire at the school. Does anyone know to this day what actually happened, how the fire got started? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, I've always heard it had been set, but whether that was so or not, I don't know. SPEAKER 1: Wasn't there rumors that the Ku Klux Klan was involved or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: I heard that, I don't know. BILL BEAUDOIN: The Ku Klux Klan was very active in those days, because I remember, you know, we would see from where I lived, we always see the crosses burning on Prospect Hill. SPEAKER 1: And where was that where you lived? BILL BEAUDOIN: On 6th Street, right where the fire was. We could see right across Whitney Field and up into Prospect Hill, and one of the police officers saw it. He was an officer in the police department, Mr. [Karl] lived next door to us. We would always see him go into 10 the room, and if the crosses were burning they would be out chasing these guys around. I'll never forget that. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, it must have been around town, you know, around the hill, because I remember my folks talking. I wasn't supposed to be hearing this, I guess, but I would overhear different things. And I'm sure they used to go up Mechanic Street. BILL BEAUDOIN: They attacked his home one time on Sixth Street, Mr. Karl. They tried to burn that. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Of course, I remember them talking about the white sheets that they put over their clothing and, you know, crosses. SPEAKER 1: So they actually did this in Leominster? BILL BEAUDOIN: Oh, yes, we testified – IRENE BEAUDOIN: I was petrified of them that whenever they spoke of them, I was very petrified. SPEAKER 1: But it was never – the fire was never actually shown to… IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, it was never proven that it was set by anyone. That was a rumor, I suppose. SPEAKER 1: I always heard another rumor that one of the local parishioners had done it, someone's family had trouble with. I don't remember. IRENE BEAUDOIN: I never heard that one. SPEAKER 1: I heard that one a few times. BILL BEAUDOIN: I don't remember how it happened. I just remember very vividly the day it happened and [unintelligible - 0:16:58] was running over, wanting to see the fire. SPEAKER 1: Oh, it was a terrible night. It was all ice. And, of course, living not too far away from the convent, we really could see it well because my father went, but my mother and I naturally didn't go because it was such a bad night out. But, it really hit, you know, the parishioners because they really had worked to have the 11 school and then to have somebody let that happen, it meant starting all over again. SPEAKER 1: Who was the pastor at the time? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh Father [Shiquin]. SPEAKER 1: Father Shiquin. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes. SPEAKER 1: How many years was Father Shiquin in Leominster? Was it forty? SPEAKER 1: I don't know. I know he celebrated his 50th anniversary as a priest here but… IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, he came from Worcester here, which would have been – what, Bill? BILL BEAUDOIN: Oh, when Father came here, he'd been … IRENE BEAUDOIN: It was 1919? BILL BEAUDOIN: Yeah. He's been here, I think, five or six years then. SPEAKER 1: And so then the parishioners had to begin all over again? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm. They used to have fairs and minstrels. SPEAKER 1: Minstrels? IRENE BEAUDOIN: They had one or two a year. And then recitals from the different students that took piano. In the music department, they used to have recitals and I guess they sold tickets for that because we used to hold it at the Realtor. I know I used to perform as a piano student, and then, of course, the minstrels was a variety affair. I remember as a little kid, I perhaps was seven or eight years old, dancing on the stage for different little skits they had. SPEAKER 1: Do you recall if the parish received any outside help to rebuild the school or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, I don't know about that, but I'm – perhaps from the Diocese of Worcester or… BILL BEAUDOIN: No. The only thing I ever heard about it as I recall is a gift from Mr. [Doyle].12 IRENE BEAUDOIN: Because we were in the Boston diocese at the time, weren't we? BILL BEAUDOIN: Springfield. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Springfield, that's right. Whether they got help from the bishop at the time, I don't know. SPEAKER 1: All right. So, you, Irene, graduated from Saint Cecilia's, and from there, where did you go? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Leominster High. SPEAKER 1: You went to Leominster High. And did you graduate from Leominster High also? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: What did you do after graduation? IRENE BEAUDOIN: I went to Becker College and then I went into hairdressing. SPEAKER 1: You went to Becker's and then you went to hairdressing. What did you take up in Becker's, what course? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Business course. SPEAKER 1: Business – one or two years? IRENE BEAUDOIN: One year. SPEAKER 1: One year, and then off to hairdressing. That's a switch, isn't it? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm. BILL BEAUDOIN: She went to hairdressing school in Worcester. IRENE BEAUDOIN: I went to hairdressing school in Worcester also, yeah. SPEAKER 1: Was that at girls' trade? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, no, no. It was beauty school. SPEAKER 1: And did you go into business for yourself or did you work for someone? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No. I worked as a beautician in two different beauty shops, and then I got married and that was the end of my working days. SPEAKER 1: [Laughs] These beauty shops were they located on French Hill or were they in town? IRENE BEAUDOIN: I worked for Olivia who was on Washington Street. SPEAKER 1: On Washington.13 IRENE BEAUDOIN: She has passed away, and I also worked in Fitchburg and she has passed away also. SPEAKER 1: So that… IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, I worked at [Selligs] also. I must say that. I worked at [Selligs] as a biller. SPEAKER 1: Is this right after Becker's then? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, after hairdressing. I went back to the business world. SPEAKER 1: [Laughs] So Sellig's must have been new at the time. IRENE BEAUDOIN: They had just come in. BILL BEAUDOIN: Her father was instrumental at bringing Sellig's] here. In fact, he did bring Sellig's here. IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right. SPEAKER 1: Oh, is that right? BILL BEAUDOIN: Her father had that building. SPEAKER 1: Which building is that, the one on Green Street? IRENE BEAUDOIN: On Green Street, right. SPEAKER 1: And when you say your father had that… BILL BEAUDOIN: Well, he was a realtor. SPEAKER 1: Oh. As time went by with his insurance business, he had realty as part of the business. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, he had realty, right. He went into realty and… SPEAKER 1: And he had the place on Green Street. Do you recall how he managed to get Sellig's in here, where they came from or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: There's a lot of concessions [unintelligible - 0:22:38]. SPEAKER 1: Well, it was through – he was also, you see, director of the bank. SPEAKER 1: Which bank was that? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, it's Monument Federal now. It was Leominster Home Federal at the time. SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. BILL BEAUDOIN: Leominster Home loan. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Home loan.14 SPEAKER 1: Home Loan, which is now Monument, I see, and he was a…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Director. He was a director since, I believe, 1919 or 1920. Right after he got into the insurance business, I think he became a director. He was for many, many years. SPEAKER 1: I see. And it's through that, his position as director and in the real estate business that he was able to bring Sellig's into Leominster. IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right, that's right. SPEAKER 1: Where were they from? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Gardner. SPEAKER 1: Oh they were in Gardner. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: That was their home base then? IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right. And he formed a committee with different businessmen in Leominster, and Mr. Buckley was one of the other gentlemen that [unintelligible - 0:23:55]. SPEAKER 1: Which Mr. Buckley? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Cornelius. SPEAKER 1: Cornelius? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: The father of the present Cornelius Buckley? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Right, right. SPEAKER 1: I see. IRENE BEAUDOIN: And the two of them, I remember, worked very hard to get this like concern into Leominster. SPEAKER 1: Now who owned the building at the time, do you recall? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, I don't know… BILL BEAUDOIN: There was a trust [unintelligible - 0:24:21] formed and it was purchased by the group. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, right. BILL BEAUDOIN: Anybody could be a shareholder if they wanted to.15 SPEAKER 1: This was in what years, in what year did this occur, the Depression years? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, no. It was 1937. I would say '38, '37, '38. SPEAKER 1: So, we're still a little in the Depression. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, just about at the end of it, yeah. SPEAKER 1: This was a rather brave attempt then… IRENE BEAUDOIN: And it helped; it did help, yeah. SPEAKER 1: I gather then they must have had to deal with the city officials at the time? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, yes. That's right. SPEAKER 1: The city officials were receptive of bringing them in, I take it? BILL BEAUDOIN: Yes. IRENE BEAUDOIN: It was – Pete Lapierre, I think, was mayor at the time, wasn't he? I think he was. SPEAKER 1: Mayor Lapierre. How did the Depression affect your father's business, or did it affect it at all? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, it did affect it, as far as people being able to pay for the insurance. It was quite head-on at the time, but he managed to hold on to all his customers by paying a lot of premiums himself. And he also was appointed to appraise property at that time, which was a big help. SPEAKER 1: Did he ever hold any position in city government? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. During World War II, he was appointed to be on the Selective Board and was chairman… SPEAKER 1: Selective Service Board? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Service Board, yeah. He was chairman of that board for a number of years. SPEAKER 1: Do you recall any other people that were on the board at the time? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes. Mr. Harris was one of them. BILL BEAUDOIN: Paul Holman.16 IRENE BEAUDOIN: Paul Holman. BILL BEAUDOIN: Are we talking about the carriage company that Paul Holman owned – was one of the owners of… IRENE BEAUDOIN: Of the Whitney Carriage. BILL BEAUDOIN: Mr. [Hart]. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh Mr. Hart, right. BILL BEAUDOIN: Who was the president of [unintelligible - 0:27:04]. Those were the Selective Service Board. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Now another thing, I don't know if I mentioned this, though, where my father was on the board of directors for a bank. SPEAKER 1: Yes, you did. IRENE BEAUDOIN: I mentioned this before, didn't I? He did a lot of appraisals for the bank also on property. SPEAKER 1: Apparently your father was the only Franco-American on the Selective Service Board for quite some time. IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right, that's right. Then later on in years, of course, Mr. [Golden] was on the board also. SPEAKER 1: Henry Golden later on joined the… IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes, Henry Golden was on. SPEAKER 1: Did your father ever work for the state of Massachusetts? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, just – no, I don't really think he ever had been. No, no, he didn't. SPEAKER 1: When he was an appraiser, was he an appraiser for the banks or was he an appraiser for the city of… IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, that was for the state. That was for the state. SPEAKER 1: For the state, I see. IRENE BEAUDOIN: He was appointed by the governor. SPEAKER 1: He was appointed. Who was the governor then? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Dever, Governor Dever. SPEAKER 1: I see. Now, as far as the city is concerned, besides the Selective Service, did he ever serve on any other, any commissions? Or 17 did he ever run for – was he ever elected to office or anything of that kind? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, no. SPEAKER 1: Was he interested in politics or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, he enjoyed politics but he never really cared to run for an office. SPEAKER 1: Did he ever work to help Franco-Americans become citizens? Was he ever involved in that? IRENE BEAUDOIN: He certainly was. In fact, he sponsored many people that came from Canada here. SPEAKER 1: In that sense, did he belong to – was it Club [Nordier]? It seems to me that they were active, politically active in the city. BILL BEAUDOIN: [Unintelligible - 0:29:33]. SPEAKER 1: He belonged to [unintelligible - 0:29:36]? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, yeah, he belonged to that. SPEAKER 1: And was he ever a member of the Saint-Jean-Baptiste? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, yeah, yes. SPEAKER 1: Any other organizations that you remember that he might have been in? BILL BEAUDOIN: [Unintelligible - 0:29:47]. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, [Jasons], the Elks. BILL BEAUDOIN: [Unintelligible - 0:29:53]. SPEAKER 1: In that case, Irene, your father must have become acquainted with Bill's father? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Oh, he knew Bill's dad and mother for – well ever since his father and mother came here from Worcester. SPEAKER 1: Was that through your… IRENE BEAUDOIN: They were friends for many, many years. SPEAKER 1: I see. Do you think that – how many children did you and Bill have? IRENE BEAUDOIN: We have three boys.18 SPEAKER 1: You have three boys. And were they all educated locally or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, they all went to high school here. BILL BEAUDOIN: Saint Cecilia's. IRENE BEAUDOIN: They went to Saint Cecilia's first naturally, and then two of them went to Notre Dame and one went to Leominster High. SPEAKER 1: And what are they doing now? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, the oldest boy is in Connecticut and he's a doctor. The second boy is in Connecticut and is working with addicts. He… SPEAKER 1: Drug addicts? IRENE BEAUDOIN: He took up psychology. BILL BEAUDOIN: He's an assistant to a psychologist there, a doctor. IRENE BEAUDOIN: And works with drug addicts. SPEAKER 1: Is he working out of the university or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, right in a hospital. SPEAKER 1: In a hospital, I see. IRENE BEAUDOIN: And the youngest is in business with his father. SPEAKER 1: Oh I see. That's the solder business? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Right. SPEAKER 1: You said, when I asked you where they went to school, you said Saint Cecilia's naturally. Why did you say 'naturally'? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Because that's the school we went to as youngsters and it seems to be the school that you sent your children to. SPEAKER 1: So, they teach as much French when your children went through as when you went through. IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, no. SPEAKER 1: How much French did they teach when your children went through? IRENE BEAUDOIN: I believe they only had like 15 minutes or a half hour and, it's all they have; very, very little French. SPEAKER 1: And those were lessons in the language then?19 IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right, that's right. And you could – they could choose catechism, either having a French catechism or an English catechism. SPEAKER 1: I see. And what year did they go through? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Let's see. It would be 1954. BILL BEAUDOIN: What – at Saint Cecilia's? IRENE BEAUDOIN: He went in '54. BILL BEAUDOIN: I don't remember the date that well. SPEAKER 1: They were in school at Saint Cecilia's in the 50s then, the three of them. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yes. SPEAKER 1: So that by the 1950s… IRENE BEAUDOIN: Not the three of them. SPEAKER 1: So, that by the mid-50s and into the 60s, the French had just about disappeared from the school except for… IRENE BEAUDOIN: I would say so, yes. SPEAKER 1: Except for that 20 minutes a day of lessons in language. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Exactly. SPEAKER 1: Quite a change from the time that you were there. IRENE BEAUDOIN: We were there, right, because our afternoon was complete French from catechism to Bible to your French language and so on, which took all your afternoon in French. SPEAKER 1: So, coming back to your father now, it seemed to me from having asked you a number of questions that from relatively early in his insurance and real estate business, he was run outside of the French community quite early. Would that be correct? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Mm-hmm. SPEAKER 1: In other words, he did a lot of business with many other people in the community, other than French Canadians from almost the beginning?20 IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right, that's right, but the majority of his business was done with the French Canadian but he had many other people, you know, different nationalities: Italian, American, Irish… SPEAKER 1: Yeah. What kind of an education did your father receive? He went to… IRENE BEAUDOIN: He had no education whatsoever. He was a self-made man really. SPEAKER 1: He didn't get through the eighth grade or anything like that? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No, no. He had to go work on the farm. I… SPEAKER 1: While in Canada, he worked on the farm? IRENE BEAUDOIN: While in Canada, they lived on a farm and he worked on the farm, and if I remember correctly now… BILL BEAUDOIN: He worked in a coal mine. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, he worked in a coal mine also. SPEAKER 1: In New Brunswick? IRENE BEAUDOIN: New Brunswick. Springhill, was it? BILL BEAUDOIN: Springhill, the one they had all the very serious collapses there [unintelligible - 0:35:13]. SPEAKER 1: Yeah, yeah, Springhill mine, in New Brunswick. BILL BEAUDOIN: Yeah. And this happened – oh, God, I remember there was that shack and, you know, he can remember the track to the shack. He remembered that shack because he worked there. SPEAKER 1: And he came to the United States at 16; then he was rather young when he was working in the mine. IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right, because in those days you went to work at any age. BILL BEAUDOIN: If you could do any kind of work in the pit. IRENE BEAUDOIN: If you could carry a shovel and a pick. But I think he went as far as the fourth grade and I don't believe he went any further than that. BILL BEAUDOIN: And that was in New Brunswick.21 IRENE BEAUDOIN: In New Brunswick. And, of course, they lived so many miles away from a school or a church. It was very… SPEAKER 1: Then when he came to the United States, his intention was to go to Rhode Island, was that it? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: And this was for work. IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right. SPEAKER 1: Where did they plan on working when he went to Rhode Island and do you recall…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: They had nothing in mind. They were just looking for work. SPEAKER 1: Do you recall where they went in Rhode Island? Was it Woonsocket or…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Woonsocket. SPEAKER 1: It was Woonsocket. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, Woonsocket, Rhode Island. SPEAKER 1: And he came back here to Leominster. IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right. SPEAKER 1: Why did he stop in Leominster? This puzzles me. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, evidently they had to change trains or something. I don't know just what it was, but he was downtown. I remember him saying he was down town, waiting for another train, and all he had was 50 cents in his pockets. SPEAKER 1: Did he meet relatives when he went to Rhode Island? IRENE BEAUDOIN: He had no relatives out here whatsoever. He came on Canada with another friend of his, and they were both 16. SPEAKER 1: And both of them had intentions of going to work in Rhode Island? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: Did his friend stay in Rhode Island? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah. The friend stayed in Rhode Island; he came back here alone.22 SPEAKER 1: And now your great grandparents on your – well, your grandparents on your father's side remained in Canada? IRENE BEAUDOIN: His mother came. His father died, then he went back to get his mother and his sister and they lived in Fitchburg in Cleghorn. He found them an apartment in Cleghorn. Why Cleghorn, I don't know now. I couldn't tell you why they lived there. Why not Leominster, I don't know. SPEAKER 1: There were many French Canadians in Cleghorn probably. IRENE BEAUDOIN: And my grandmother died in Cleghorn, and my aunt died in Worcester, and his sister, his only sister who was in a home there in Worcester… I'm trying to think of the name of that place. SPEAKER 1: You mentioned that your father delivered groceries by horse and buggy. When did he eventually get a car? IRENE BEAUDOIN: I believe it was around – in the 20s, early 20s. It was a turn car; he called it a turn car, which he just loved. And I can remember so many times, well, I guess, I was five or six years old when there was a rainstorm or thunderstorm that came up in the summertime, how he would stop the car and put up the side pieces and then the windshield wipers were on the inside. They had to this by hand. SPEAKER 1: They had to work the manual windshield. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, or the windshield wipers were on the outside but I guess you had to work it from the inside. SPEAKER 1: Exactly, a little handle. IRENE BEAUDOIN: That's right, yeah. SPEAKER 1: And so he got his first car after he went into the insurance business? IRENE BEAUDOIN: Well, I'm sure it must have been at that time, yes. SPEAKER 1: And how long did he drive? IRENE BEAUDOIN: He was almost 91 when he retired from driving. We mentioned several times, you know, "How I wish – why don't you give 23 up?" I didn't ask him to give up. I would say, "If you want to give up, I can take you wherever you want to go." And he'd just reply, "What's the matter with you? I can drive as well as you can." So, that was that. SPEAKER 1: Though your father was not active in politics, holding office or anything like that, was he involved in politics in any other way or no? IRENE BEAUDOIN: No. SPEAKER 1: I found that many of the Franco-Americans voted or tended to vote Republican until about the 1930s. Was your father a Republican or was he a Democrat? IRENE BEAUDOIN: He was a Republican and changed when Bill's father ran. BILL BEAUDOIN: And always went back to Republican. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Went back to Republican but to give his father that vote, he had to change – BILL BEAUDOIN: Her father did run for the city council once. IRENE BEAUDOIN: Yeah, that's right. BILL BEAUDOIN: But he was defeated and only because he was a Republican, no other reason. SPEAKER 1: Oh your father did run for…? IRENE BEAUDOIN: He did run. That's correct. BILL BEAUDOIN: Republicans were non-existent at the time – or close to it. /AT/cw/ee

In this dissertation I explore the co-emergence of multinational corporations and the consolidation of the discourse on human rights at the level of the United Nations throughout the second half of the twentieth century and analyse the resulting conceptual gap that created tensions in the international legal order. Despite attempts by developing countries to alleviate this imbalance through the New International Economic Order (NIEO), a multitude of soft law initiatives and the reluctance to address human rights issues in MNCs at the level of the United Nations failed to make MNCs incorporate human rights standards in their operations. The merging of the two concepts became increasingly more challenging throughout the 70s and 80s when the world was faced with the oil crisis and the rise of neoliberalism. This shift in the global legal architecture forced the Third World to take a new approach to tackle the conceptual gap, this resulted in the emergence of the Third generation of human rights and ultimately, the concept of Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR). CSR is a concept of international private business self-regulation that aims at merging human, socio-economic, and political rights into the world of the corporation. As a response to the concerns for human rights violations by corporate actors, CSR slowly came to the forefront of the global business scene to enable the continuation of the operation of multinational enterprises. CSR presented a platform for global soft law initiatives to minimise the conceptual gap they had created over throughout the preceding decades. This allowed people such as John Ruggie to develop the Guiding Principles, the most successful initiative to date. This dissertation will provide its readers with a fruitful understanding of the crucial role that international law played in this development and further, what implications this had on the political and economic level. - Introduction In the words of Sundhya Pahuja and Anna Saunders, the second half of the twentieth century staged a 'series of encounters between rival practices of world making, each of which travelled with rival accounts of international law'.[1] Anti-colonial disputes, the Cold War, the rise of developmental issues and the increasing popularity of neoliberalism are only some of the events that generated these competing views of the international legal order. These events brought different coalitions across the Global North and Global South, and different 'alliances of interest between 'public' and 'private' actors'.[2] At the heart of the system that emerged lie two fundamental elements: the modern multinational corporation and human rights. How to conceptualize multinational corporations (MNCs) and how to define their relation to the law and the State was part of these rival stories. In this paper I explore the co-emergence of multinational corporations and the consolidation of the discourse on human rights at the level of the United Nations throughout the second half of the twentieth century and analyze the resulting conceptual gap that created tensions in the international legal order. In particular, I examine how this encounter, which became evident as calls for a New International Economic Order (NIEO) were being advanced within the UN, came to produce the idea of 'Corporate Social Responsibility' (CSR). I show that CSR emerged from the failure of the NIEO, particularly in relation to the roles and responsibilities of private actors in the global economy and how this can be traced to the limits of initiatives addressing the tensions between human rights claims and the interests of multinational corporations. In so doing I provide an understanding of the crucial role that international law played in this development and the implications this had at the political and economic level. The first section of this essay examines the lack of direct use of human rights language in the UN literature focusing on MNCs and their role in world development from the 1960s to the 1970s. This includes an analysis of the report entitled 'Multinational Corporations in World Development'.[3] I demonstrate the emphasis and enthusiasm for multinational corporations displayed at the level of the United Nations and how the concepts of the corporation and human rights were kept separate due to their respective supporters during the Cold War. I then focus on the attempts by the Organization for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD), the International Labor Organization (ILO) and the 'Group of 77' (G77) to bridge this conceptual gap through the imposition of policies and initiatives, though without major success. The second section analyzes the influence of the oil crisis and the rise of neoliberalism on the shift of the global legal architecture, ultimately promoting the birth of the new developmental state. Here concern is with the new legal structures' attempt to merge the concepts of multinational corporations and human rights through a third generation of human rights, [4] and I engage in theoretical approaches by legal scholars such as Samuel Moyn and Antonia Darder. In the third section investigates the concept of Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) and analyzes its application and limitations. CSR is a concept of international private business self-regulation that aims at merging human, socio-economic, and political rights into the world of the corporation. As a response to the concerns for human rights violations by corporate actors, CSR slowly came to the forefront of the global business scene to enable the continuation of the operation of multinational enterprises. I demonstrate how CSR aspired to close a gap between human rights and corporate action in a way that would harmonize them through a multitude of soft law initiatives. This leads to the question of whether direct regulations can apply to MNCs under international law and a discussion of the UN Global Compact, at the time the world's largest and most far-reaching CSR initiative.[5] Finally, this paper closes with the most recent developments in the global legal order designed to tackle the conceptual gap between MNCs and human rights, namely through the United Nations Norms on the Responsibilities of Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises[6] and the development of the Guiding Principles. Dawn of co-existence The United Nations lies at the heart of the international regime with its normative, institutional and procedural human rights activities.[7] By adopting the Universal Declaration of Human Rights in 1948, the UN created a milestone document in the history of human rights. The Declaration has had an enormous influence on the world both in terms of 'spreading the philosophy of human rights, and in terms of inspiring legal texts and decisions'.[8] New states have used the Declaration as a basis for their constitutions, while domestic and international courts have invoked the Declaration in their judgments.[9] As human rights law developed, the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, followed by the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, were both drafted under the auspices of the United Nations, adopted in 1966 and entered into force in 1976. Together, these three instruments make up the 'International Bill of Human Rights'.[10] Throughout the 1960s and 1970s, the world became a stage for global changes that altered the legal order. The end of colonialism dawned in the Global South, and during the height of the Cold War the West faced the Soviet Bloc and its mission of 'exporting revolution'.[11] Leaders of nationalist resistance movements received military as well as financial aid from the Soviet Bloc which intensified anti-colonial mobilization for self-determination.[12] Simultaneously, globalization was increasing rapidly, with multinational corporations emerging onto the global scene with heightened awareness of their existence as an entity with legal personality. As outlined by Sornarajah, their distinct bases of power allowed them to assert their interests through the law. With economic resources often exceeding those of their host state, MNCs had the ability to sculpt and manipulate legal outcomes through arbitration processes concerning foreign investment protection. This was done by exerting lobbying pressure on a host state which might be reluctant or even unable to object to the activities of MNCs.[13] The 'Multinational Corporations in World Development', report drafted by the UN Secretariat's Department on Economic and Social Affairs in 1973, considers 'the role of multinational corporations and their impact on the process of development, especially that of developing countries [.] [and] international relations'.[14] From the outset, the Report identifies the emerging phenomenon of the MNC in international economic affairs, how its size and spread has increased, and identifies the wide array of its activities and its use of natural resources which 'rival traditional economic exchanges between nations'.[15] It is surprising therefore, that a Report from the Department on Economic and Social Affairs, does not contain the term 'human rights' throughout the entire document. In the Report's introduction the UN makes a clear distinction between the differing views of impacts MNCs have on host countries. While 'depicted in some quarters as key instruments to maximizing world welfare, [they] are seen in others as dangerous agents of imperialism'.[16] The fact the United Nations recognized the potential neo-colonial nature of multinational corporations further highlights the need for guidance on human rights violations by MNCs. Yet the Report's reluctance to engage in the area of human rights provides a first glimpse into the divergence of the concepts of multinational corporations and human rights. An explanation for this can be identified by analyzing the Conventions, on Civil and Political Rights and on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, with the UN's reluctance to avoid tensions between the supporters of both Conventions, respectively the United States and the Soviet Union. The US pushed for the development of civil and political rights, reflecting the protection of the freedom and liberties of individuals. Stemming from a Western philosophy, John Locke identified that in a 'state of nature' humans had 'natural rights' including the right to life, liberty and property. Similarly, French legal philosophers such as Rosseau, Montesquieu and Voltaire argued that such rights emerge from the inherent nature and virtue of man.[17] As Joseph and Castan argue, 'natural rights theories were highly influential [.] particularly in the revolutionary fervor of the United States'.[18] The advancement of civil and political rights reflects the capitalist ideology of the United States, conforming to the libertarian nature of Western capitalist societies.[19] In contrast, the Soviet Union pushed for the advancement of economic, social and cultural rights. These included the right to work, the right to an adequate standard of living, and the right to physical health. Contrary to the civil and political rights, these rights were based on the idea of equality, one deeply rooted in the political ideology of socialism. As the US would not commit to a proposition that there is a right to social goods, the US has never ratified this Convention.[20] The Soviet Bloc promoted the right of self-determination by providing military and financial aid to indigenous political activists in their fight for independence; an idea enshrined in Article 1 of the Covenant which states that: 'All peoples have the right to self-determination'.[21] For the Soviets 'national self-determination was an adjunct to revolutionary communism'.[22] They envisioned self-determination as the tool for the transition from dismantling a colonial empire to establishing a socialist state.[23] However, while the United Nations was reluctant to adhere to human rights in the framework of multinational corporations, other international institutions were motivated to develop this area. The OECD attempted to impose human rights on MNCs by adopting the Guidelines for MNCs (hereinafter 'OECD Guidelines') in 1976.[24] These were 'voluntary recommendations for business practices relating to human rights, disclosure of information, anti-corruption, labour relations, taxation, the environment and consumer protection'.[25] The Guidelines were intended to strengthen the international investment climate by improving the relationship and confidence between MNCs and host countries. National Contact Points (NCPs) were created that bore the responsibilities of enforcing and promoting the Guidelines, and any natural person could make a claim related to the violation of the Guidelines.[26] This aspect of the Guidelines provided an enforcing mechanism accessible to the public. But although the Guidelines were formally adopted by member states as a corporate responsibility instrument, they were subject to widespread criticism in the international legal order. As explained by Cernic, the Guidelines are ambiguous while the NCPs are limited in their influence on host states. Even though they outlined the need to respect human rights, the obligations were not framed in mandatory terms.[27]. Since the Guidelines lacked legal basis, the OECD was unable to assert sanctions on non-compliant corporations, and critics labeled them weak and ineffective. However, it was the intention of the OECD to guide rather than to legislate, because they saw voluntary versus legally binding standards as less of a dichotomy and more a continuum.[28] Although voluntary, corporations would be under scrutiny and potentially harm their reputation if they violated the Guidelines.[29] Yet, the Guidelines were hardly successful in the international legal order. A year later, in 1977, the ILO attempted to bridge this gap by adopting the Tripartite Declaration of Principles Concerning MNCs and Social Policy. These also attempted to 'encourage the positive contribution the MNEs can make to economic and social progress'.[30]. Article 8 emphasizes the respect for the Universal Declaration and the International Covenants. However, its voluntary and non-binding nature, as well as its weak monitoring process made this instrument as frail as the OECD Guidelines.[31] The lack of responsibility and perseverance stemming from international organizations and their disappointing attempt at bridging the gap between multinational corporations and human rights forced national and regional change. On the one hand, developing nations began taking matters into their own hands. To portray unity and solidarity throughout the 'Third World' the G77 coalition, formed in 1964 by developing member countries with the primary intention of promoting its members' economic and humanitarian interests through cooperation at the level of the United Nations, took a strong initiative. In the late 1970s the Group expressed its concern at the 'imbalance of negotiating power between TNCs [transnational corporations] and their host countries and inability on the part of the latter to control the activities of the TNCs within their territories'.[32] Simultaneously, home countries wanted to ensure their investments abroad would be protected, 'specifically from expropriation without a commitment to compensation based on international law'.[33] In accordance with the principles and concerns of the freshly adopted NIEO, developing countries raised the issue of the dominance of MNCs over natural resources and strongly urged the UN for a reaffirmation of their sovereignty over their resources. The NIEO was an attempt by Third World developing states, in the wake of decolonization, to deploy international law to achieve economic justice and improvements in the areas of development and socio-economic rights.[34] Pushed by the G77, the United Nations General Assembly (UNGA) member states devised a set of NIEO proposals in 1974 including (1) that developing states are entitled to control and regulate all activities of MNCs within their territory; and (2) that international trade must be based on equitable, stable and remunerative prices for raw materials.[35] Despite its impressive aims and careful compilation, the NIEO was unsuccessful. It failed 'to displace the power and advantage held by influential states', it failed to alter international law which favoured the economic interests of capital-exporting states and, most importantly, it demonstrated the Third World's acceptance of the economic ideology of the capitalist mindset, inflating the value of foreign capital including the exploitation of local labour in developing countries.[36] Consequently, the UN set up the United Nations Commission on Transnational Corporations which drafted a code of conduct for TNCs, one of the first formalized instruments drafted by the UN that set an obligation upon MNCs to respect human rights in host countries.[37] However while developing countries insisted on the idea of adopting an international instrument that was binding on MNCs, developed countries were not prepared to go beyond the voluntary sets of guidelines already in place.[38] On the other hand, due to the ineffectiveness of the international institutions, some MNCs that sought to abide by human rights law attempted to create some provisions themselves. An example is the Sullivan principles designed by Leon Sullivan, former member of the General Motors' Board of Directors. These principles included the elimination of discrimination based on race, and the concept of equality in the workplace. The objective was that by engaging in human rights concepts like dignity and respect, MNCs could be a lever for the elimination of apartheid in South Africa. However, like the previously established soft law on obligations on multinational corporations, these principles were voluntary and unlike the OECD Guidelines which had the NCPs, there was no enforcement mechanism. The great majority of MNCs that adopted his principles did so with the sole motive of being able to continue to prosper in South Africa.[39] In summary, throughout the 1960s and 1970s, there were attempts at a variety of levels to bring together the concepts of human rights and multinational corporations. Though it was largely absent on the level of the United Nations until the late 1970s there were many first steps by international institutions to bridge this gap. The NIEO was the first set of concrete economic principles that were prescribed in international law 'articulating a form of justice based not on domination of one people over another'.[40] It was an 'effort to assert the sovereign autonomy of the non-western world',[41] exemplifying the importance of linking human rights and development, and the fundamental values of duties of international cooperation. However, there was still much to be done as the new decade of the 1980s saw a drastic restructuring of the global trade and investment system - ultimately ending in massive international debt and a dramatic increase in foreign direct investment. A Change in the Global Legal Architecture An accumulation of capital obtained by the main oil producing states in the Middle East led to the establishment of the Organization for Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) Cartel in 1972. With the intention of creating a monopoly and obtaining major profits, OPEC raised the price of oil by approximately 400%, with its members keeping revenue in US or European banks, from which developing countries regularly borrowed in the form of aid and loans.[42] However, banks were now lending at higher interest rates to these countries as they were deemed less creditworthy. As a result of sovereign debt and the surplus problem in the international banking system, developing states were forced to rely on foreign direct investment (FDI), as opposed to private borrowing. The very principle that developing states wanted to control with the establishment of the NIEO was now negated by Western states selling MNCs to the developing world as necessary for their survival.[43] Simultaneously to the effects of the oil crisis, the political ideology of neoliberalism emerged on the global scene. Conservative governments gained power in western countries, communism collapsed in Eastern Europe with a move towards market economics, and Latin America implemented stabilization policies to boost their economies.[44] This process saw neoliberalism became an enemy for structural equality, political inclusion, economic access and human rights.[45] Prior to the implementation of neoliberal policies, the relationship between multinational corporations and their host state was formed through the conflict between the host country's national developmental interests as opposed to the corporation's global investment interests. The state being the more powerful actor, attempted 'to channel its private investments to serve its own developmental objectives'.[46] However, as Michael Peters argues, neoliberalism provides 'a universalist foundation for an extreme form of economic rationalism'[47], which according to Paul Haslam, was a re-forming of the modern state rather than the perceived notion of the state 'unambiguously withering away'.[48] As a result, power shifted from host countries towards multinational corporations as the era was characterized by liberalization of foreign investment rules.[49] As the United Nations World Investment Report of 2000 showed, out of the 1035 changes made in national legislation regarding Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) from 1991 to 1999, only 5.9% were directed at restricting FDI.[50] Now more than ever before, the existence and nature of human rights were jeopardized in the sphere of multinational corporations led by neoliberal politics. Yet when analyzing human rights and neoliberalism, the two concepts have a plethora of similarities that run counter to this assertion. Samuel Moyn states that human rights and neoliberalism share (1) a predecessor and (2) a target, namely the welfarist West and the post-colonial nation state seeking economic autarky respectively.[51] Both concepts emerged and were formalized in the West. As a target, developing countries need both economic (neoliberalism) and social (human rights) elements to establish economic control. Furthermore, the two concepts share key foundational building blocks. Firstly, the principle of prioritizing the individual 'whose freedoms matter more than the collectivist endeavours' and secondly, their shared antipathy toward the state due to their rejection of its moral credentials.[52] As described by Darder, neoliberalism is characterized by a rampant greed that subsumes any notions of equality and public responsibility.[53] At the heart of this lies the ultimate subversion of human rights. When faced with the powers of global capitalism, human rights struggle to maintain themselves in the Third World. A prime example countering this thesis is the idea that human rights are a handmaiden to neoliberal policies. The argument follows that human rights are so tightly related to the role of a freely functioning market that there could be no socio-economic rights without extreme capitalism.[54] Unfortunately under this notion, human rights fall victim to being seen as dependent upon the capitalist order, creating the illusion that multinational corporations enhanced and promoted human rights in the developing World. What Wolfgang Streeck termed as 'non-market notions of social justice' became impossible to secure. Any attempt to place social commitments over economic ones were expelled, leaving market pressures to form human obligations and be governed by the dictatorship of neoliberalism.[55] The World Bank and the IMF, backed by the United States and other western states, became key in the project for liberalization, privatization, and market-friendly policies, known as the Washington Consensus. MNCs were given the protection they needed to flourish, be it proprietary or intellectual property rights. The interests of human rights on the other hand were not regarded. Though excelling and growing more than ever before, human rights had done so 'on a discrete track spearheaded internationally through the UN'.[56] Directed by developing states, human rights were intentionally dealt with by the United Nations while international economic law was being dealt with by the international institutions where they hold the balance of power.[57] Simultaneously, the developing world saw the third generation of human rights emerge as a result of anti-colonialist movements in the post-Second World War era. Newly born independent nations voiced their concerns over repeating their colonial past and demanded a new set of rights. These included the right to self-determination, the right to a healthy environment and the right to participation in cultural heritage. These are reflected in Declarations and Conventions such as the Declaration on the Granting of Independence to Colonial Countries and Peoples of 1960, the Proclamation of Teheran of 1968 and the Stockholm Declaration of 1972.[58] What makes this generation of human rights exceptional however is that while they reflect neither the traditional individualistic approach of the first generation, nor the socialist tradition of the second generation, they simultaneously demand certain recognitions from the state while being able to be invoked against the state. Most importantly though, as articulated by Vasak, the third generation of human rights 'can be realized only through the concerted efforts of all the actors in the social scene: the individual, the State, public and private bodies and the international community'.[59] In other words, these rights belong to the community as a collective, rather than to an individual.[60] Drafted in 1986 by the UNGA, the Declaration on the Right to Development [61] (DRD) calls for effective international cooperation towards development objectives through the enhancement of human rights and the distribution of benefits.[62] The DRD gained inspiration from the NIEO as it relied on providing equal national opportunity through measures of fair distribution of natural resources and income. Alongside neoliberal policies, the two contradicting concepts were forced to work in tandem. Foreign investment in the developing world could proceed under the neoliberal ideology as long as it did not infringe the DRD. Interestingly, the right to development was coined by the former UN Independent Expert on the Right to Development, Arjun Sengupta, as 'growth with equity'. Growth should not only focus on the economic aspect, but also emphasize human rights and the principles of justice. This focus on equity, would require a 'a change in the structure of production and distribution in the economy to ensure growth was equitable', including the required international cooperation and not having to rely on the market.[63] Though the United Nations are promoting and enhancing the development of human rights, they are disregarding the fact that their work should be focused more on the human rights aspects entailed in the market, rather than solving human rights issues outside of the market framework. The development of human rights and the regulatory frameworks supporting multinational corporations attended very different interests. The new global legal architecture born of the oil crisis and rise of neoliberalism reorganized the relations between the Global South and Global North. At this point human rights and the regulation of corporations, with their distinctive genealogies, were forced to come together, but the failure of this exercise could not be challenged until the late 1980s when the third generation of human rights provided another opportunity for the merging of the two concepts. The outcomes of these new sets of discussions produced a more clearly defined relationship between human rights and multinational corporations which, although more sophisticated, was still unable to produce a satisfactory result. Nevertheless, the right to development began to take root in the corporate world. For the sake of their reputations, corporations were forced to appreciate the power held by vulnerable individuals that could act together as a strong collective.[64] As Claire Dickerson argues, multinationals became more aware of their relationship with human rights not only in regards to the individual, but rather to the society as a collective.[65] These were the first formalized steps to the recognition of what came to be known as Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR). The Heterodox Approach What became apparent in the sphere of business and human rights were two situations, (1) that states were either unable or unwilling to implement human rights; and (2) that multinational corporations acting in such states were unprepared to deal with the risks of harming human rights through their activities. This was seen especially in the private extracting sector, such as oil, gas and coal, using aggressive means to exploit remote areas and leaving large physical and social 'footprints'. Local communities began resisting the activities by the multinationals and the language of human rights became increasingly popular in challenging corporate norms.[66] Some of the world's largest MNCs had become culprits of violating human rights standards, including Nike, Shell or Yahoo. Nike was guilty of using child labour, while Shell misused public funds to practice corruption and theft at all levels.[67] The effects were reflected in local communities that resorted to violence and criminal behaviour, significantly affecting the living conditions of these areas. In the early 1990s, some corporations began adopting measures to comply with responsible business conduct. CSR was a voluntary form of business self-regulation that attended the current societal goals. It involved the creation of monitoring schemes that regulated the workplace standards and policies of the global supply chains. However, what caused CSR to emerge, was not only pressure exerted by nations that felt their human rights had been impinged, but also a wider global political ethos. With its emphasis on privatization and deregulation, neoliberalism promoted CSR initiatives in order for corporations to gain self-control and rely less on direct government initiatives. Due to its voluntary nature, CSR was not conceived as a regulatory instrument but as a learning forum to promote strategies that enhanced socially responsible policies. This included the enhancement of human rights, environmental protection and anti-corruption efforts. [68] CSR had now progressed to the forefront of the global business scene by morphing out of corporate philanthropy.[69] Corporations began adopting voluntary schemes that not only adhered to social policy, but at times even went beyond the standard set by local requirements, which occasionally created conflict between the two.[70] Unilateral corporations produced company codes, with companies such as Gap and Nike adopting theirs in 1992. This involved internal audit teams and ethics officers to be established, verifying that contractors were complying with their company's codes of conduct. Gradually, social audit teams emerged onto the global scene. As one of the most prominent, the Fair Labour Association (FLA) monitored the working conditions for some of the top athletic brands such as Nike, Puma and Patagonia. In the food industry, the label of Fair Trade emerged, ensuring for local farmers the social, economic and environmental standards they deserved. Corporations adopted CSR measures mainly to improve their reputation. However, perhaps a greater incentive for corporations to adopt CSR measures lies in the financial risks posed by community pushback as a result of human rights violations. These pushbacks cause delays in design, operation, construction, siting, granting of permits etc. Further, they can create problems and relations with local labour markets, higher costs for financing, insurance and reduced output.[71] In a study of a large multinational company that wished to remain anonymous, Goldman Sachs found that it had accrued $6.5 billion in such costs over a two year period.[72] A great percentage of these costs could be related back to the staff time in managing conflicts that arise in communities as a result of human rights violations. In some instances between 50% and 80% of an assets manager's time can be devoted to these issues. Thus, it is clear that in this lose-lose situation, where MNCs violate human rights and thus incur losses, it makes sound corporate sense to adopt some sort of CSR measures.[73] Despite the improvements and the clear step forward the business world took in addressing human rights, CSR involved limitations and fragmentations that challenged its success. It was built on the assumption that it is an effective mechanism for a corporation to positively reconnecting with the community it is based in. Thus, in practice, CSR operates under the presumption that society has granted authority to corporations with naturally applying legal responsibilities.[74] In 2000 John Ruggie conducted research in the Fortune Global 500 and a wider range of corporations to assess the extent and success of voluntary initiatives promoting human rights. Staff monitoring schemes had evolved, demands by socially responsible investors had grown, and large public sector funds all aided in this development. However, the research also found 'company-based initiatives fell short as a stand-alone approach'.[75] Most companies still did not have the capabilities of managing human rights risks and instead were acting on a reactive based notion. Moreover, it was within the company's discretion to decide which human rights the company would address and furthermore how to define its measures. Thus, their voluntary nature could often be used as a camouflage to delay real reform.[76] A logical response to such a broad limitation would be to impose direct obligations under international law upon MNCs. Though only states and international organizations have legal standing in international law, the general view on this contention is that it would be possible to impose obligations upon MNCs due to their major economic and political influence as explained earlier, and their capabilities of influencing the enjoyment of human rights.[77] However, as explained by Zerk, the challenge lies in 'developing jurisprudence which refines and makes precise the vague aspirational statements [.] in the CSR debate'.[78] However, as the law stands, the most promising and efficient method for applying obligations on multinational corporations remains to be the national courts. Yet the fact that claims must be raised as a tort-based litigation proving a violation of domestic tort principles rather than claiming a violation under international human rights casts doubt over this method. An interesting exception to this is the US Alien Tort Statute of 1789. The tort states that district courts 'have original jurisdiction of any civil action by an alien for a tort only, committed in violations of the law of nations or a treaty of the United States'.[79] The original intention of the statute was to establish a civil remedy for violation of international law norms such as piracy, mistreatment of ambassadors and the violation of safe conducts.[80] This piece of legislation lay dormant until the 1980s when human rights lawyers discovered its potential for foreign plaintiffs to raise a claim for certain human rights abuses against an individual of any nationality, or a corporation as long as they had a presence in the United States. The question whether the Act could be enforced against a corporation was considered in 2012 in the U.S. Supreme Court case of Kiobel.[81] The court held that there was a presumption against extraterritoriality applying to claims under the Statute. There is therefore no application of the statute abroad unless it is explicitly stated in the international law which is the subject of the claim.[82] As stated by John Ruggie in his advice to the Human Rights Council in 2007 'no single silver bullet can resolve the business and human rights challenge. A broad array of measures is required, by all relevant actors.'[83] Ultimately, as a measure to seek guidance on the matter, this led to the UN Global Compact in 2000, the largest global CSR initiative.[84] The UN Global Compact was a strategic policy initiative posed by the former UN Secretary General Kofi Annan that aimed at improving corporate conditions in areas such as human rights, environmental protection and labour rights.[85] It was a prospective and hopeful initiative that was designed as a learning forum to develop, implement and disclose sustainability principles among corporate actors.[86] At its time, the Global Compact was the most far-reaching, non-governmental set of policies aimed at catalyzing the voluntary nature in the corporate citizenship movement.[87] Legal scholars such as Meyer and Stefanova felt the Global Compact could shape the relationship between MNCs and human rights through 'rewarding responsible TNCs [MNCs], while shaming at least some of the irresponsible TNCs [MNCs] into better promoting human rights'.[88] Their only concern about the extent of the success of the Global Compact lay, in the Global Compact's voluntary nature. Comparing it to the OECD Guidelines implemented 25 years earlier, an initiative like the Global Compact will only be successful if there is commitment to the initiative at all levels of the international system. Thus, the main task is to put a human face on globalization through the values and principles shared by the people, the corporation and the state.[89] However, Aravalo and Fallon dispute this. Published in 2008, their Report uses the Compact Quarterly and UNGC Annual Review to critique the Global Compact's activities and practices throughout its eight years of existence. Published by local networks and the UN respectively, they evaluate new businesses adhering to the Global Compact, as well as Global Compact practices and responses. Aravalo and Fallon found that after evaluating the various progress reports, the Global Compact falls short of being a successful initiative. According to the UNGC Annual Review, there are a multitude of gaps existing in the Global Compact framework. Research instruments for instance, under the principles of human rights and labour protection, have been deemed as inadequate as participants have failed to voice their concern over the protection of such rights within their corporation. The Global Compact has solely used online surveys to administer data, which smaller businesses are often unwilling or unable to provide. The methodology applied by the Global Compact was ambiguous and did not show the extent of the success of CSR initiatives.[90] Alavaro and Fallon argue that it would be highly beneficial for the Global Compact to re-think its methodology process of evaluating its success by introducing a chronological component into its future research models. [91] It would allow for a clearer comparison not only for participants of the Global Compact, but also for the comparison with non-Compact companies in the area of corporate responsibility.[92] As a result of this poor research methodology, the Global Compact has difficulty assessing its direct influence on the broad and voluntary concept of CSR. There are key principles of CSR that fail to receive the attention they deserve in the scope of the Global Compact. However, this is not to say that the Global Compact has been an outright failure. The Annual Review, though lacking quantifiable data, has provided a wide array of case studies providing evidence for the practical influence of the Global Compact on participants. These include programs in education and working relationships the Global Compact has encouraged and facilitated. It can be said therefore, that the Global Compact is making a difference, even if only in these cases. Until shortly after the turn of the millennium, neither company codes nor multilateral initiatives such as Global Compact, successfully achieved the necessary, concrete obligations in regard to human rights and environmental protection demands. This was set to change with the arrival of the United Nations Norms on the Responsibilities of Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises (Norms). Drafted in 2003, the United Nations Sub-Commission on the Promotion and Protection of Human Rights attempted to merge the concepts of MNCs and human rights and transform these newly developed principles into hard law. The intention was to impose human rights obligations upon companies through the domestic legal systems of their host countries. The Norms clearly express that 'states retain primary, overarching responsibility for human rights protection' and that corporations are identified as 'Duty-bearers' based on that expectation of following human rights principles.[93] The expectations expressed by the Norms are supported by enforcement mechanisms for their implementation which address the requirements that MNCs must adopt in terms of their internal practice. Furthermore, there are a multitude of rights that go beyond what is traditionally accepted as international human rights law. Examples include rights associated with consumer protection, the environment or corruption which are covered by different areas of the law.[94] However, the Norms failed to achieve promising results. Described as a 'train wreck' by John Ruggie, the Norms fell under heavy criticisms for a plethora of reasons. Firstly, the Norms fall under heavy scrutiny for attempting to impose obligations upon corporations, while simultaneously imposing parallel obligations on the state. The intention was to address the fact that MNCs operate in a legal vacuum due to their status of acting as a multinational. To alleviate this issue, it was thought that binding MNCs to hard international law would be the best option. On the one hand, minimalists argue that binding multinational corporations to international law is not an appropriate method as this would go beyond the concept of soft law initiatives such as Global Compact. This argument is developed by stating that binding corporations to international law would 'privatise human rights'. The Norms would be placing obligations on an entity that was never democratically elected, nor eligible to make reasonable decisions in regard to human rights at the level of international law.[95] On the other hand, maximalists lobby for a judicial body solely focused on the practice of multinational corporations and argue that corporations should be bound by international law.[96] Secondly, there was severe backlash against the Norms from states, corporations and businesses who argued that there was a lack of consultation from the Sub-Commission when drafting the Norms. However, this argument has since been disputed by institutions such as the Corporate Europe Conservatory or the scholars Weissbrodt and Kruger.[97] In regard to the discontent presented by states, many argued that there was a lack of involvement on their behalf in the Norms' development. As stated by Kinely, Nolan and Zerial, it is of vital importance that in issues revolving around CSR and their wide variety of stakeholders, everyone's voice must be heard when protecting human rights.[98] Thirdly, issues were raised regarding the language used by the Norms. Terms like 'sphere of influence'[99] and 'complicity' were deemed as vague and unclear.[100] It is agreed upon, even by supporters of the Norms, that such terms must be defined more definitively and where possible, draw definitions from more grounded areas of the law like criminal law, tort or contract law. This attitude towards the Norms from corporations shows the extent of their distrust and the scare factor used to attempt to dismantle the Norms.[101] However, even though the Norms failed as a concept, as Kinley, Nolan and Zerial maintain, 'the Norms have been a beneficial and fruitful initiative, reinvigorating debate on business and human rights'.[102] Previous to the imposition of the Norms, CSR had found itself in a position that was stagnant, focusing solely on codes of conduct that should be implemented by corporations using a bottom-up approach. The Norms altered the position of CSR to now provide a top-down approach and provided human rights activists with hope that human rights protection in regard to multinational corporations was now in the hands of the United Nations. However, the reactions to the Norms from the CSR community varied. CSR had been a newly emerging concept which was still unclear when fitted into the international legal order. It was still in its early years of development with highly broad-reaching initiatives in the fields of both soft and hard law. The playing field for CSR was simply too big for such an underdeveloped concept to handle. Further, it was attempted to implement CSR through domestic laws and quasi-legal initiatives raised to the level of international law. It is therefore often perceived that the implementation of the Norms were an attempt to remedy CSR by uniting these various aspects into one document at the level of the United Nations. The Norms conjoined national and international levels of CSR while maintaining that states continued to hold the primary responsibility of ensuring that businesses protect human rights. The world was a 'deeply divided arena of discourse and contestation lacking shared knowledge, clear standards and boundaries; fragmentary and often weak governance systems concerning business and human rights in states and companies alike'.[103] A range of governments still expressed their demand for further attention to be given to the relationship between human rights and the practices of multinational corporations. Thus, the United Nations appointed a team led by John Ruggie to establish the Guiding Principles. Rather than establishing a new international framework as was previously attempted with the Norms, Ruggie was 'urged [.] to focus on identifying and promoting good practices and providing companies with tools to enable them to deal voluntarily with the complex cluster of business and human rights challenges'.[104] Ruggie moved away from the traditional 'mandatory approach' which involved the compliance of national laws in correspondence to a corporation's voluntary measures and practices, to a heterodox approach. This heterodox approach was devised to create an environment of mixed reinforcing policy measures that provided cumulative change and large-scale success. The Guiding Principles lay on three foundations: (1) the state duty to protect against human rights abuses; (2) the responsibility by corporations to respect human rights and the implied obligation of acting in due diligence; and (3) the need for greater access to remedies for victims. However, there are two things that the Guiding Principles fail to accomplish. Firstly, to create binding international law and instead rely on normative contributions which further elaborate the implications of existing standards. Secondly, the Guiding Principles 'fail to ensure the right to an effective remedy and the need for States' measures to prevent abuses committed by their companies overseas'.[105] Amnesty International goes further by reiterating that aside from lacking accountability measures, the Guiding Principles should mandate a due diligence approach rather than only recommending it, as this would solve internal as well as extraterritorial accountability issues. Alongside Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch criticized the Guiding Principles for not adopting a global standard in corporate responsibility, and instead resort to a 'sliding scale' based on a corporation's size and geographic location.[106] However, when compared to other governance regimes in the past and present, the Guiding Principles seem to be a robust framework. Although various human rights organizations and NGOs identify neglect of human rights in the framework of MNCs, the Guiding Principles reiterate business as an instrument to contribute to societal welfare.[107] Thus, it acts as a basis for the empowerment of society and a benchmark to judge practices and conduct of corporations and governments.[108] Conclusion The discourse of the co-emergence of multinational corporations and human rights took the world by storm. The ongoing globalization of multinational corporations and the evolution of the concept of human rights were born attending different aims in the global legal order. Their greatest challenge however was not necessarily their harmonization and co-existence, but more importantly co-existing under the intentional gap created through the world's largest and most influential actor, the United Nations. This was clearly visible in the 1960s and 1970s. Throughout the various Reports and Declarations that were passed through the international institution, the two concepts were kept separate. While the United Nations was enthusiastic for the growth of both MNCs and human rights, it intentionally avoided discussing the harmonization of both concepts. Due to the underlying pressures imposed on the United Nations by the tensions from the Cold War, the UN was left in a legal vacuum unable to merge the two distinctive genealogies. The global international legal order was unaware of the extent of the importance of such a gap being eradicated before adopting a resolution as complex as the NIEO. Thus, from this point onwards, the NIEO was therefore already bound to be unsuccessful. Not only had international law not developed enough to impose such obligations upon MNCs, the corporations themselves were not aware of the ramifications and necessity for abiding human rights obligations as I showed in the third section of this dissertation. Enthusiasm for further initiatives such as the push by the G77 or the United Nations Commission on Transnational Corporations was only short lived. The events of the 1980s greatly disrupted the already turbulent environment of the global international legal order creating a greater gap between the concepts of multinational corporations and human rights. The 1980s became a stage which saw a great change in the global legal structure. The NIEO was an already broken concept from the outset as the conceptual gap had already created a disparity in the relationship between MNCs and human rights. This meant that although they were not aware of it at the time, the Global South could not rely on the imposition of the NIEO. Fostering the Western neoliberal policies, the conceptual gap between MNCs and human rights was now well established. For human rights to become a globally instructed concept, MNCs are a useful tool to spread, promote and enhance human rights across the globe. This of course is under the condition that the MNC does not violate human rights. From the other perspective MNCs rely on human rights in terms of their societal and financial risks. It becomes clear that when this is not realized by the proponents of both concepts, it can lead to major discrepancies and disparities as was proven in the Global South during this period. If there had not been this conceptual gap, and instead there had been a clear and devised relationship between MNCs and human rights, the effects of the oil crisis and neoliberalism would not have left the detrimental mark in developing countries that they did, potentially allowing the NIEO to prevail. However, the ongoing persistence of developing countries and their call for the third generation of human rights to gain prominence forced MNCs to catch up with their relationship to human rights. What emerged, were essentially the first initiatives and practices of CSR. CSR was heavily affected by the fact that it relied on the voluntary nature of businesses to adhere to as well as practice CSR. Even though corporations had an incentive to adopt CSR measures, weak monitoring systems allowed violations to still occur on a grand scale. The issue was that the multinational corporation as a concept was still unclear and lacked definition and that tying MNCs down with hard international law was not possible due to the diversity of MNCs. CSR allowed for too large a divergence from the issue at hand and required to approach human rights at a different angle. This was the key reason for the partial success of the Guiding Principles. Ruggie's unconventional, heterodox approach provided clarity and distinct concepts that individuals, business and states could adhere to. Although the conceptual gap has still not vanished, the UN has after an array of various attempts, managed to narrow the gap that it had created almost sixty years ago by continuously forcing society to rethink and redefine the relationship. What exactly lies in the future is uncertain and impossible to foresee. It can be said with great certainty however, that if initiatives such as Global Compact or the Guiding Principles are enhanced and given more attention, the world will be faced with a much clearer and concise relationship between multinational corporations and human rights. Focusing on monitoring mechanisms, methodological research and greater transparency and accountability among all actors involved will undoubtedly seal the conceptual gap that has caused the international legal order to experience such unsettling times. [1] Pahuja, Sundhya. Saunders, Anna. Rival Worlds and the place of the Corporation in International Law in Dann and Von Bernstorff (eds). Decolonisation and the Battle for International Law (OUP, 2018) p.1 [2] Ibid. [3] UN, Multinational Corporations in World Development ST-ECA/190 [4] Linarelli, John. Salomon, Margot. Sornarajah M. The Misery of International Law. (OUP, 2018) p.245 [5] Ruggie, John. Just Business. (W.W. Norton & Company, 2013) p.70 [6] United Nations Norms on the Responsibilities of Transnational Corporations and Other Business Enterprises E/CN.4/Sub.2/2003/12/Rev.2 [7] Alston, Philip. Mégret, Frédéric. (eds) The United Nations and Human Rights: A Critical Appraisal (Second Edition, OUP, 2020) p.1 [8] Clapham, Andrew. Human Rights: A Very Short Introduction (OUP, 2007) p.42 [9] (n.8) p.108. [10] ibid . p.109 [11] Allina, Eric. Imperialism and the Colonial Experience in Paul A. Haslam, Jessica Schafer and Pierre Beaudet, Introduction to International Development (3rd Edition, OUP, 2017), pp. 24-42. p.39 [12] Ibid. p. 40 [13] Sornarajah M. International Law on Foreign Investment (CUP, 2010) p.5 [14] United Nations Department of Economic and Social Affairs, Multinational Corporations in World Development, 1973 ST-ECA/190 p.VI [15] ibid. p.1 [16] ibid. [17] Joseph, Sarah. Castan, Melissa. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights: Cases, Materials. (3rd Edition, OUP, 2013) p.4 [18] ibid. p.5 [19] ibid. [20] Alston, Philip. U.S. Ratification of the Covenant on Economic, Social And Cultural Rights: The Need for an Entirely New Strategy. The American Journal of International Law Vol.84, No.2 (CUP,1990) pp.365-393, p.4 [21] UN General Assembly, International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, 1966, Article 1 [22] Simpson, Gerry. The Diffusion of Sovereignty: Self-Determination in the Post-Colonial Age (Ashgate Publishing, 2000) p.266 [23] Ibid. [24] Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development, OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises, 1976 [25] Carasco, Emily. Singh, Jang. Towards Holding Transnational Corporations Responsible for Human Rights. European Business Review Vol.22, No.4, (Emerald Publishing Group, 2010). p.4 [26] Cernic, Jernei. Corporate Responsibility for Human Rights: A Critical Analysis of the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises Hanse Law Review, Vol.4, No.1, (2008). p.16 [27] Ibid. p. 12 [28] Sanchez, Juan Carlos Ochoa. "The Roles and Powers of the OECD National Contact Points Regarding Complaints on an Alleged Breach of the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises by a Transnational Corporation." Nordic Journal of International Law (2015) Vol.84, No.1, pp: 89-126 p. 18 [29] Bolt, Cassidy. "Leveraging Reputation in Implicit Regulation of MNEs: An Analysis of the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises' Capacity to Influence Corporate Behavior." Corporations and International Law, 20 Jan. 2018, Available at: sites.duke.edu/corporations/2018/01/20/leveraging-reputation-in-implicit-regulation-of-mnes-an-analysis-of-the-oec

Issue 32.1 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right © 1972 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor January 1973 Volume 32 Number 1 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Review for Religious Volume 32, 1973 / 1 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~ 1973 by Review ]or Religious. AIIocution on Secular Institutes On September 20 1972 members of the International Congress of Leaders of Secular Institutes were granted an audience with His Holiness, Pope Paul VI. During the audience the Holy Father delivered the following allocution, presented here in the English translation given in the Osservatore romano, English language weekly edition, October 5 1972, pages 3-4. Beloved Sons and Daughters in the Lord, once more we have the oppor-tunity of meeting you, Leaders of the Secular Institutes, who are and repre-sent a vigorous and flourishing section of the Church at this moment of history. The circumstance that has brought you before us is, this time, the International Congress which you have carried out and are about to con-clude here in Nemi, near our summer residence at Castel Gandolfo, and at which you examined the statutes of the "World Conference of Secular Institutes" (C.M.I.S.), about to be erected. We do not wish to discuss your work, which was certainly carried out with thoroughness and enthusiasm, under the watchful care and with the participation of the competent Sacred Congregation. We hope that it will reap rich fruits in relation to the increase of your institutions. Your Presence a Testimony We rather desire to dwell on some reflections about what the function of the secular institutes could be in the mystery of Christ and in the mystery of the Church. When we look at you and think of the thousands and thousands of men and women of whom you are part, we cannot but feel consoled, while a deep sense of joy and gratitude to the Lord comes over us. How strong and flourishing the Church of Christ appears in you! This venerable Mother of ours, whom some people today, even among her sons, take as the butt 4 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 of harsh, pitiless criticism; about whom some delight in describing fanciful symptoms of decrepitude and in predicting ruin; here we see her, on the contrary, bursting continuously into bud and blossoming beyond all expec-tation with initiatives of holiness. We know that it must be so and could not be otherwise, because Christ is the divine inexhaustible source of the vi-tality of the Church; and your presence offers us a further testimony of this, and is for all of us an opportunity for renewed consciousness. But we wish to scan your face more closely, in the family of the People of God. You, too, reflect a "specific way" in which the mystery of Christ can be lived in the world, and a "specific way" in which the mystery of the Church can be manifested. Christ the Redeemer is such a fullness, which we will never be able to understand or express completely. He is everything for His Church. In her, what we are we are just because of Him, with Him, and in Him. Also for the secular institutes, therefore, He remains the ultimate example, the in-spirer, the source on which to draw. Based on Christ the Savior and following His example you are carrying out, in your own characteristic way, an important mission of the Church. But the Church, too, in her way, like Christ, is such a fullness, such riches, that no one by himself, no institution by itself, will ever be able to understand her and express her adequately. Nor would it be .possible for us to discover her dimensions, because her life is Christ, who is God. So also the reality of the Church, and the mission of the Church, can be expressed completely only in the plurality of members. It is the doctrine of the Mystical Body of Christ, the doctrine of the gifts and charisms of the Holy Spirit. A Consecrated Secularity This is the point, as you have understood, to ask ourselves about your particular way of carrying out the mission of the Church. What is your spe-cific gift, your characteristic role, the "quid novum" brought by you to the Church of today? Or: in what way are you the Church today? You know the answer; you have by now clarified it to yourselves and to the Christian community. You are at a mysterious confluence between the two powerful streams of Christian life, welcoming riches from both. You are laymen, consecrated as such by the sacraments of baptism and confirmation but you have chosen to emphasize your consecration to God with the profession of the evangeli-cal counsels assumed as obligations with a stable and recognized bond. You remain laymen, engaged in the secular values characteristic of, and peculiar to, the laity (Lumen gentium, 31), but yours is a "consecrated secularity" (Paul VI, Discorso ai Dirigenti e Membri degli Istituti Secolari nel XXV della "Provida Mater," L'Osservatore Romano, 3 February 1972), you are "secular consecrated" (Paul VI, Discorso ai partecipanti al Congresso ln-ternazionale degli lstituti Secolari, 26 September 1970, Insegnamenti A llocution on Secular Institutes VIII, p. 939). Though "secular," your position differs in a certain way from that of mere laymen, since you are engaged in the same worldly values, but as consecrated beings: that is, not so much to affirm the intrinsic validity of human things in themselves, but to direct them explicitly according to the evangelical beatitudes. On the other hand you are not religious, but in a certain way your choice is concordant with the religious, because the con-secration you have made sets you in the world as witnesses to the suprem-acy of spiritual and eschatological values, that is, to the absolute character of your Christian charity. The greater the latter is, the more relative it makes the values of the world seem, while at the same time it helps their correct implementation by yourselves and by your other brothers. Both Aspects Essential Neither of the aspects of your spiritual nature can be overrated at the expense of the other. They are both equally essential. "Secularity" indicates your involvement in the world. But it does not mean only a position, a function, which coincides with living in the world by practicing a trade, a "secular" profession. It must mean in the first place awareness of being in the world as "your specific place of Christian re-sponsibility." To be in the world, that is, to be engaged in secular values, is your way of being the Church and of making her present, of saving your-selves and of announcing salvation. Your existential and sociological con-dition becomes your theological reality; it is your way to realize and testify to salvation. Thus you are an advanced wing of the Church "in the world"; you express the will of the Church to be in the world in order to mold it and sanctify it "from within, in the manner of leaven" (Lumen gentium, 31), a task, too, which is mainly entrusted to the laity. You are a particularly concrete and efficacious manifestation of what the Church wishes to do to construct the world described and desired by Gaudium et Spes. "Consecration," on the other hand, indicates the intimate and secret carrying structure of your being and your acting. Here is your deep and hid-den wealth, which the men in the midst of whom you live cannot explain and often cannot even suspect. Baptismal consecration has been further radicalized as a result of an increased aspiration for love aroused in you by the Holy Spirit; not in the same form as the consecration of religious, but nevertheless such as to induce you to make a fundamental option for life according to the evangelical beatitudes. So that you are really consecrated and really in the world. "You are in the world and not of the world, but for the world," as we ourself described you on another occasion (Paul VI, Discorso ai partecipanti al Congresso Internazionale degli Istituti Secolari, 26 September 1970, lnsegnamenti, VII, p. 939). You live a real consecra-tion according to the evangelical counsels, but without the fullness of "visi-bility" characteristic of religious consecration; a visibility that is constituted, 6 / Review lor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 in addition to the public vows, by a closer community life and by the "sign" of the religious habit. Yours is a new and original form of consecration, prompted by the Holy Spirit to be lived in the midst Of temporal realities, and to bring the strength of the evangelical counsels--that is, of divine and eter-nal values--into the midst of human and temporal values. The Cross of Christ Your choices of poverty, chastity and obedience are ways of partici-pating in the cross of Christ, because they associate you with Him in the renunciation of goods which are elsewhere permissible and legitimate; but they are also ways of participating in the victory of the risen Christ, since they free you from the hold that these values might have on the full avail-ability of your spirit. Your poverty tells the world that it is possible to live among temporal goods and use the means of civilization and progress, without being enslaved by any of them. Your chastity tells the world that it is possible to love with disinterestedness and the inexhaustibility that draws on God's heart, and to dedicate oneself joyfully to everyone without tying oneself to anyone, taking care particularly of the most abandoned. Your obedience tells the world that it is possible to be happy without stopping at a comfortable personal choice, but remaining fully at the disposal of God's will, as it appears from daily life, from the signs of the times, and from the aspirations to salvation of the world of today. Thus, also your activity in the world--both personal and collective, in the professional sectors in which you are engaged individually or as a community--receives from your consecrated life a more marked orientation towards God, it, too, being somehow involved and swept along in your consecration. And in this singular and providential configuration, you enrich the Church of today with a particular exemplarity in her "secular" life, liv-ing it as consecrated beings; and with a particular exemplarity in her "con-secrated" life, living it as secular persons. Priests in Secular Institutes At this point we would like to dwell on a particularly fruitful aspect of your institutions. We are referring to the numerous group of those who, consecrated to Christ in the ministerial priesthood and wishing to be united to Him with a further bond of donation, embrace the profession of the evangelical counsels, joining the secular institutes in their turn. We are thinking of these brothers of ours in Christ's priesthood, and we wish to encourage them, while we admire in them, once more, the action of the Spirit, indefatigable in arousing desire for ever greater perfection. What has been said so far, certainly applies to them, too, but it would require further study and clarifications. In fact, they arrive at consecration in the evangelical counsels and commitment to "secular" values not as laymen, but as ecclesiastics, that is, bearers of a sacred mediation in the People of Allocution on Secular Institutes / 7 God. In addition to baptism and confirmation, which constitute the basic consecration of the laity in the Church, they have received a subsequent sacramental specification in holy orders, which have constituted them hold-ers of certain ministerial functions with regard to the Eucharist and the Mys-tical Body of Christ. This has left the "secular" nature of Christian voca-tion intact, and they can therefore enrich it by living it as "consecrated" persons in the secular institutes. The requirements of their spirituality are very different, however, as well as certain external implications in their practice of the evangelical counsels and in their secular commitment. Ecclesiai Communion In conclusion we wish to address a pressing and fatherly invitation to everyone: to cultivate and increase ecclesial communion, to have it at heart always and particularly. You are vital articulations of this communion, because you, too, are the Church; never make an attack on their effi-ciency. It is impossible to conceive or understand an ecclesial phenomenon outside the Church. Never let yourselves be overcome by, or even give thought to, the temptation, too easy today, that authentic communion with Christ is .possible without real harmony with the ecclesial community gov-erned by the legitimate pastors. It would be misleading and illusory. Of what value would an individual or a group be, however lofty and perfect their intentions might be subjectively, without this communion? Christ asked us for it as a guarantee to admit us to communion with Him, just as He asked us to love our neighbor as documentation of our love for Him. You are, therefore, of Christ and for Christ, in His Church; this Church is your local community, your institute, your parish, but always in the communion of faith, of Eucharist, of discipline, and of faithful and loyal collaboration with your bishop and with the hierarchy. Your structures and your activities should never lead you--be you priests or laymen--to a "bi-polarity" of positions, or to an "alibi" of interior and exterior attitude, far less to positions in opposition to your pastors. This is our invitation; this is our wish, in order that you may be in the midst of the world authentic operators of the one saving mission of the Church, in your own characteristic way, to which you have been called and invited. May the Lord thus help you to prosper and fructify further, with our Apostolic Blessing. Address on Religious Life Paul On October 19 1972 Pope Paul gave an audience to the.representatives of the national conferences of religious institutes of men and women together with the "Council of the Sixteen," a group composed of eight superiors general of men religious and of eight superiors general of women religious. During the audience the Holy Father delivered the following allocution which is printed here in an adaptation of the English translation that appeared in Osservatore romano, English language weekly edition, November 5 1972, page 5. Dear Sons and Daughters: Let Us first of all express to you the joy and emotion that we feel on receiving you. With Us you bear the honor and the weight of a great responsibility: the guidance and the authenticity of religi-ous life today. Beyond your persons we behold the thousands of men and women who devote their lives to following Christ in the practice of the evangelical counsels. They represent an immense hope for Us and for the entire Church. You have responded to the appeal of the Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes to review during these few days the aggiornamento that the Council and your chapters have aroused and implemented, par-ticularly on the plane of prayer and common life. You have tried to ascer-tain how to overcome the tensions that are appearing--they are probably inevitable--within your different congregations and how to live, in a certain pluralism, the deep unity to which the disciples of Christ must bear witness. We are deeply satisfied with your collaboration with the Congregation which is charged with attending to and presiding over the solution of these problems and thereby with serving you. We hope that this collaboration will be more and more frequent, trusting, and fruitful. Religious Spirit Within the framework of this brief meeting today, it is not possible for Address on Religious Li]e / 9 Us to take up all the questions raised by the adaptation and renewal of religious life. Last year in our apostolic exhortation Evangelica testificatio, We set forth for you Our concerns and hopes on this matter. In the Lord's name We defined the criteria of discernment that will help to guide you along this demanding but compellingly attractive path to a more evangelical life. Webeg you to keep before your eyes and to meditate upon the various elements of religious life which We emphasized and to do this without ne-glecting any of them. This morning our only hope is to revive in you the "religious spirit" that must mark your persons and your communities as well as your positive adherence to the Church. You have chosen to live your baptismal vocation in the particular frame: work of the religious life; rather you have agreed to serve the Lord in this radical way which is a deep response to an evangelical appeal, a way which has p~'oved itself in the Church for centuries and which the Church has authenticated as an unequaled and indispensable testimony of the Beatitudes. We speak frankly to you: Be consistent with yourselves, be faithful to your vocation, do not let this essential character of religious life--which is youi" role in life--dissolve either in theory or in practice. Most Christians are called to affirm their faith and to exercise their charity as laymen with all the temporal responsibilities incumbent on them; their testimony is essential as We have often stressed. Some of them ale doing so today with the sup-port and according to'the requirements of a secular institute; and we have recently [see the preceding article in this issue of Review ]or Religious] praised again this new initiative. But all of thes6 laymen need your faith-fulness to your specific vocation as religious men and women. In addition to the vows of consecrated chastity, poverty, and obedience, religious life demands, as you know, a common life lived in complete brotherhood. It requires a particular kind of asceticism which leads you to renounce freely and joyfully the goods of this world as a sign of your attachment to the Lord Jesus loved for His own sake and above everything and even to the cross. It is manifested in an obedience which makes you completely available for the will of our Father. in heaven through the con-crete appeals of the Church and" of your superiors; it is the way that Jesus lived in obedience to His Father through the conditions of His incarnation (see Jacques Guillet, Jdsus-Christ hier et aujourd'hui .[Paris: Descl6e de Brouwer, 1963], pages 109-25). In short, you must aim at evangelical per-fection (see Mt 5:48) so as to be permanently living signs of the tran-scendency o[ the kingdom ot' God. Paradox of the Gospel Certainly, tl~is sign will not always be understood, and this not only by the "world," as understood by St. John, but even by men of good will and even by your Christian brothers and sisters. And as a result you will suffer. For this world is not only attracted--and sometimes enslaved--by posses- Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 sions, power, and the flesh, but it has become supersensitive to the demand for personal development in the framework of complete autonomy. Accord-ing to some, your life may assume an aspect that is somewhat mysterious, strange, and even inhuman. And yet you know that what is foolishness in the eyes of men is wisdom in the eyes of God (see 1 Cor 1:25-7). Besides, would not the real scandal be to perceive that, on the pretext of adaptation, you renounce the requirements of prayer, humility, poverty, sharing, purity, simplicity, and disinterested service that Christ has asked of His disciples? Let us be clear: The form of religious life must not despise natural talents or personal charisms; it must serve the vocation of each person. And it is a heavy task for you as superiors to see to it that each of your brothers and of your sisters may develop in it and may be treated with con-sideration. But the paradox of the gospel--which you more than others have the mission to carry out fully--must not be forgotten: "For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 16:25). Be assured that this love of the Lord, lived to the extent of renunciation of yourselves, cannot remain without fruit. As it brings you deep joy and the hope of eternal life, it will mysteriously open up for souls the way to the God of love. In this sense, do not fear to be fully religious. Concern for the Missions We will now deal briefly with the second subject of our talk. Such love of God, continually awakened by deep prayer and stimulated by fraternal life, cannot turn you aside from the missionary concern animating you today --a reality in which We greatly rejoice. Whether you live a contemplative or a directly apostolic life, love of the Church will be at the heart of your con-cerns. You will, of course, adhere to the true faith that she professes. You will welcome confidently the guidelines she lays down, the decisions she takes, in different fields for the good of all. At this time this testimony of loyalty of all religious in their union with the See of Peter seems to Us to be of vital importance. Look at history: This loyalty was always decisive at the periods when the Church undertook her great reforms. But, according to the specific charism of your institutes, you will also share the Church's determination to really meet this world, new as it is in so many respects. It is not a question of conforming to it, but of accepting it, of understanding it, and of loving it to the extent of announcing Jesus Christ to it with evan-gelical patience and according to the means best suited to its understanding. In each of your dioceses, regions, and countries, the bishops have the task, with their priests' and pastoral councils, of discerning priority needs, of directing pastoral efforts, and of coordinating them. Each institute must clearly define its personal identity in order to find its place in this service with its own vocation. There is no question of absorbing the wealth of your multiform, traditional charisms in an authoritarian grouping or in an impov- Address on Religious Li]e / 11 erishing leveling process. Nevertheless, each one must participate, in complete availability, in the mission of the Church in harmony with the apostolate ex(rcised in the People of God as a whole under the responsibility of the hierarchy. You will always remember that "exemption" itself concerns particularly the internal structures of your congregations (see Evangelica testificatio, no. 50); it must never be an obstacle to the implementation of a close, deep, cordial communion of sentiments and of action with your bishops. Conclusion Dear Sons and Daughters, We have been thinking of you these days and as we celebrated Mass in honor of St. Luke. You are among those disciples that the Lord is sending before Himself today. We beg the Master of the harvest to send you numerous companions, men and women, of tested loyalty. Already it seems to us that the moment has come for a revival of religious life in depth. Therefore go forth throughout the entire world. Take Christ's peace to it. By your own consecrated life, proclaim His good news: "The Kingdom of God has come near to you" (Lk 10:9). With Mary turn to the Lord in thanksgiving and with perfect availability. And We willingly im-part to you Our blessing. Instruction on Intercommunion Secretariat [or Promoting Christian Unity This English translation of the Latin text of the Instruction is taken from the August 1972 issue of ln[ormation Service published by the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity. 1. The Question We are often asked the question: in what circumstances and on what con-ditions can members of other Churches and ecclesial communities be ad-mitted to Eucharistic communion in the Catholic Church? The question is not a new one. The Second Vatican Council (in the decree on ecumenism Unitatis redintegratio) and the Directorium oecumeni-cure dealt with it.1 The pastoral guidance offered here is not intended to change the existing rules but to explain them, bringing out the doctrinal principles on 1The Decree on Ecumenism (Unitatis redintegratio), no. 8: "Yet, worship in common [communicatio in sacris] is not to be considered as a means to be used indiscriminately for the restoration of unity among Christians. There are two main principles upon which the practice of such common worship depends: first, that of the unity of the Church which ought to be expressed; and second, that of the sharing in means of grace. The expression of unity very generally forbids common worship. Grace to be obtained sometimes commends it. The concrete course to be adopted, when due regard has been given to all the circumstances of time, place, and persons, is left to the prudent decision of the local episcopal authority, unless the Bishops' conference ac-cording to its own statutes, or the Holy See, has determined other~vise." See also the Decree on the Eastern Churches (Orientalium Ecclesiarum), no. 27. Directorium ad ea qaae a Concilio Vaticano Secundo de re oecumenica promulgata sunt exsequenda (~ Directorium oecumenicum), A cta A postolicae Sedis, v. 59 (1967), pp. 574-92: "'1. Sharing in Liturgical Worship with Our Separated Eastern Brothers. Besides cases of necessity, there would be reasonable ground for encouraging sacramental sharing if special circumstances make it materially or morally impossible over a long period for one of the faithful to receive the sacraments in his own Church, so that in Instruction on Intercommunion / 13 which the rules rest and so making their application easier. 2. The Eucharist and the Mystery of the Church There is a close link between the mystery of the Church and the mystery of the Eucharist. (a) The Eucharist really contains what is the very foundation of the being and unity of the Church: the Body of Christ, offered in sacrifice and given to the faithful as the bread of eternal life. The sacrament of the Body and Blood of Christ, given to the Church so as to constitute the Church, of its nature carries with it: --the ministerial power which Christ gave to His Apostles and to their successors, the bishops along with the priests, to make effective sacramentally His own priestly act--that act by which once and forever He offered Him-self to the Father in the Holy Spirit, and gave Himself to His faithful that they might be one in Him; --the unity of the ministry, which is to be exercised in the name of Christ, Head of the Church, and hence in the hierarchical communion of ministers; --the faith of the Church, which is expressed in the Eucharistic action itself-~the faith by which she responds to Christ's gift in its true meaning. The sacrament of the Eucharist, understood in its entirety with these three elements signifies an existing unity brought about by Him, the unity of the visible Church of Christ which cannot be lost.~ (b) "The celebration of Mass, the action of Christ and of the people of God hierarchically ordered, is the center of the whole Christian life, for effect he would be deprived, without legitimate reason, of the spiritual fruit of the sacraments" (no. 44). "2. Sharing in Liturgical Worship with Other Separated Brethren. Celebration of the sacraments is an action of the celebrating community, carried out within the com-munity, signifying the oneness in faith, worship, and life of the community. Where this unity of sacramental faith is deficient, the participation of the separated brethren with Catholics especially in the sacraments of the Eucharist, penance, and anointing of the sick, is forbidden. Nevertheless, since the sacraments are both signs of grace and sources of grace (see the Decree on Ecumenism, no. 8), the Church can for adequate reasons allow access to those sacraments to a separated brother. This may be permitted in danger of death or in urgent need (during persecution, in prisons) if the separated brother has no access to a minister of his own communion and spon-taneously asks a Catholic priest for the sacraments--so long as he declares a faith in these sacraments in harmony with that of the Church and is rightly disposed. In other cases the judge of this urgent necessity must be the diocesan bishop or the episcopal conference. "A Catholic in similar circumstances may not ask for these sacraments except from a minister who has been validly ordained" (no. 55). See also "Una dichiarazione del Segretariato per l'Unione dei Cristiani: La posizione della Chiesa Cattolica in materia di Eucaristia comune tra Cristiani di diversi confes-sioni," Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 62 (1970), pp. 184-8. ~-See Lumen gentium, no. 3; Unitatis redintegratio, no. 4. 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 the universal Church as for the local Church and for each Christian.''3 Celebrating the mystery of Christ in the Mass, the Church celebrates her own mystery and manifests concretely her unity. The faithful assembled at the altar offer the sacrifice through the hands of the priest acting in the name of Christ, and they represent the com-munity of the people of God united in the profession of one faith. Thus they constitute a sign and a kind of delegation of a wider assembly. The celebration of Mass is of itself a profession of faith in which the whole Church recognizes and expresses itself. If we consider the marvelous meaning of the Eucharistic prayers as well as the riches contained in the other parts of the Mass, whether they are fixed or vary with the liturgical cycle; if at the same time we bear in mind that the liturgy of the word and the Eucharistic liturgy make up a single act of worship,4 then we can see here a striking illustration of the principle lex orandi lex credendi.~ Thus the Mass has a catechetical power which the recent liturgical renewal has emphasized. Again, the Church has in the course of history been careful to introduce into liturgical celebration the main themes of the common faith, the chief fruits of the experience of that faith. This she has done either by means of new texts or by creating new feasts. (c) The relation between local celebration of the Eucharist and uni-versal ecclesial communion is stressed also by the special mention in the Eucharistic prayers of the pope, the local bishop, and the other members of the episcopal college. What has been said here of the Eucharist as center and summit of the Christian life holds for the whole Church and for each of its members, but particularly for those who take an active part in the celebration of Mass and above all for those who receive the Body of Christ. Communion during Mass is indeed the most perfect way of participating in the Eucharist, for it fulfills the Lord's command, "Take and eat.''6 ¯ ~lnstitutio generalis Missal& romani, cap. I, n. 1. ¯ ~See Presbyterorum ordinis, 4. 5See Pius XI, Quas primas, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 17 (1925), p. 598; Vatican Council II, Presbyterorum ordin&, 5; Sacrosanctum Concilium 2, 6. ~"'Perfectior Missae participatio"--Sacrosanctutn Concilium, n. 55. And see the in-struction Eucharisticum mysterium, n. 12, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 59 (1967), p. 549. The fact of having received the same baptism does not of itself afford a title of admission to Holy Communion. Eucharistic sharing expresses the integral profession of faith and full insertion into the Church toward which baptism leads. This sacrament "constitutes the sacramental bond of unity existing among all who through it are reborn. But baptism, of itself, is only a beginning, a point of departure, for it is wholly directed toward the acquiring of fullness of life in Christ. Baptism is thus or-dained toward a complete profession of faith, a complete incorporation into the system of salvation such as Christ Himself willed it to be, and finally, toward a complete integration into Eucharistic communion"--Unitatis redintegratio, n. 22. Instruction on lntercommunion / 15 3. The Eucharist as Spiritual Food The effect of the Eucharist is also to nourish spiritually those who re-ceive it as what the faith of the Church says it truly isBthe body and blood of the Lord given as the food of eternal life (see John 6:54-8). For the baptized, the Eucharist is spiritual food, a means, by which they are brought to live the life of Christ Himself, are incorporated more profoundly in Him and share more intensely in the whole economy of His saving mystery: "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me and I in him" (John 6:56). (a) As the sacrament of full union with Christ~ and of the perfection of spiritual life, the Eucharist is necessary to every Christian: in our Lord's words, ". unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you" (John 6:53). Those who live intensely the life of grace feel a compelling need for this spiritual sustenance, and the Church herself encourages daily Communion. (b) Yet though it is a spiritual food whose effect is to unite the Christian man to Jesus Christ, the Eucharist is far from being simply a means of satis-fying exclusively personal aspirations, however lofty these may be. The union of the faithful with Christ, the head of the Mystical Body, brings about the union of the faithful themselves with each other. It is on their sharing of the Eucharistic bread that St. Paul bases the union of all the faith-ful: "Because there is one loaf, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the same loaf" (1 Cor 10:17). By this sacrament "man is in-corporated in Christ and united with His members.''~ By frequent receiv-ing of the Eucharist the faithful are incorporated more and more into the Body of Christ and share increasingly in the mystery of the Church. (c) Spiritual need of the Eucharist is not therefore merely a matter of personal spiritual growth: simultaneously and inseparably, it concerns our entering more deeply into Christ's Church "which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all" (Eph 1:23). 4. General Principles Governing Admission to Communion Where members of the Catholic Church are concerned, there is a perfect parallel between regarding the Eucharist as the celebration of the entire ecclesial community united in one faith and regarding it as sustenance, as a response to the spiritual needs, personal and ecclesial, of each member. It will be the same when, in the Lord's good time, all the followers of Christ rSee Presbyterorum ordinis, 5. sCouncil of Florence, Decretum pro Armenis, DB 698 = DS 1322. In the work of St. Thomas Aqu!nas we often come across the expression "sacra-mentum ecclesiasticae unitatis" (for example, S.T., q.73, a.2, sed contra). The Eucharist effects the unity of the Church or, more strictly, it effects the Mystical Body because it contains the real Body of Christ. 16 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 are reunited in one and the same Church. But what are we to say today, when Christians are divided? Any baptized person has a spiritual need for the Eucharistic. Those who are not in full communion with the Catholic Church have recourse to the ministers of their own communities, as their conscience dictates. But what about those who cannot do this, and who for that or other reasons come and ask for communion from a Catholic priest? The Directorium oecumenicum has already shown how we must safe-guard simultaneously the integrity of ecclesial communion and the good of souls. Behind the Directorium lie two main governing ideas: (a) The strict relationship between the mystery of the Church and the mystery of the Eucharist can nev+r be altered, whatever pastoral measures we may be led to take in given cases. Of its very nature celebration of the Eucharist signifies the fullness of profession of faith and the fullness of ecclesial communion. This principle must not be obscured and must remain our guide in this field. (b) The principle will not be obscured if admission to Catholic Eucharis-tic communion is confined to particular cases of those Christians who have a faith in the sacrament in conformity with that of the Church, who experi-ence a serious spiritual need for the Eucharistic sustenance, who for a pro-longed period are unable to have recourse to a minister of their own com-munity and who ask for the sacrament of their own accord; all this pro-vided that they have proper dispositions and lead lives worthy of a Christian. This spiritual need should be understood in the sense defined above (no. 3, (b) and (c): a need for an increase in spiritual life and a need for a deeper involvement in the mystery of the Church and of its unity. Further, even if those conditions are fulfilled, it will be a pastoral responsibility to see that the admission of these other Christians to com-munion does not endanger or disturb the faith of Catholics.9 5. Differences between Members of the Eastern Churches and o| Other Churches The Directorium oecumenicum1° gives different directions for the admis-sion to Holy Communion of separated Eastern Christians, and of others. The reason is that the Eastern Churches, though separated from us, have true sacraments, above all, because of the apostolic succession, the priest-hood and the Eucharist, which unite them to us by close ties, so that the risk of obscuring the relation between Eucharistic communion and ecclesial communion is somewhat reduced.1l Recently the Holy Father recalled that ~See Orientalium Ecclesiarum, 26. lOSee Directorium oecumenicum, nos. 44 and 55. liThe ~ollowing are two important passages from the Directorium derived from Council documents: "39. Although these [Eastern] Churches are separated from us, yet they possess Instruction on Intercommunion / 17 "between our Church and the venerable Orthodox Churches there exists already an almost total communion, though it is not yet perfect: it results from our joint participation in the mystery of Christ and of His Church.''1'' With Christians who belong to communities whose Eucharistic faith differs from that of the Church and which do not have the sacrament of orders, admitting them to the Eucharist entails the risk of obscuring the essential relation between Eucharistic Communion and ecclesial communion. This is why the Directorium treats their case differently from that of the Eastern Christians and envisages admission only in exceptional cases of "urgent necessity." In cases of this kind the person concerned is asked to manifest a faith in the Eucharist in conformity with that of the Church, i.e. in the Eucharist as Christ instituted it and as the Catholic Church hands it on. This is not asked of an Orthodox person because he belongs to a Church whose faith in the Eucharist is conformable to our own. 6. The Authority to Decide Particular Cases Number 55 of the Directorium allows fairly wide discretionary power to the episcopal authority in judging whether the necessary conditions are present for these exceptional cases. If cases of the same pattern recur often in a given region, episcopal conferences can give general directions. More often, however, it falls to the bishop of the diocese to make a decision. He alone will know all the circumstances of particular cases. Apart from the danger of death the Directorium mentions only two ex-' amples, people in prison and those suffering persecution, but it then speaks of "other cases of such urgent necessity." Such cases are not confined to situ-ations of suffering and danger. Christians may find themselves in grave spiritual necessity and with no chance of recourse to their own community. For example, in our time, which is one of large-scale movements of popu-lation, it can happen much more often than before that non-Catholic Chris-tians are scattered in Catholic regions. They are often deprived of the help of their own communion and unable to get in touch with it except at true sacraments, above all--by apostolic succession--the priesthood and the Eucharist, whereby they are still joined to us in closest intimacy. Therefore some sharing in liturgical worship [communicatio in sacris], given suitable circumstances and the approval of Church authority, is not merely possible but is encouraged (Decree on Ecumenism, n. 15; see also the Decree on the Eastern Catholic Churches, nos. 24-29). "40. Between the Catholic Church and the Eastern Churches separated from us there is still a very close communion in matters of faith (see Decree or! Ecumenism, n. 14); moveover, 'through the celebration of the Eucharist of the Lord in each of these Churches, the Church of God is built up and grows in stature' and 'although separated from us yet these Churches possess true sacraments, above a.ll--by apostolic succession--the priesthood and the Eucharist' (ibid., n. 15)." 1"-'Letter to Patriarch A thenagoras, February 8, 1971, printed in Osservatore romano, March 7, 1971. It had been given to Metropolite Meliton of Chalcedon during his visit to the Holy Father on February 8, 1971. 1~1 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 great trouble and expense. If the conditions set out in the Directorium are verified, they can be admitted to Eucharistic Communion but it will be [or the bishop to consider each case. The Supreme Pontiff Paul VI approved this pastoral instruction and ordered it to be a part of public law through a letter of the Cardinal Secre-tary ot~ State dated May 25, 1972, and sent to the undersigned Cardinal President. Given at Rome in the offices of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity, June 1, 1972. JOHN CARDINAL WILLEBRANDS President JEROME HAMER, O.P. Secretary Commentary on the Instruction on Intercommunion Jerome Hamer, O.P. The following commentary on the preceding instruction was written by the secretary of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity and was published in Italian in Osservatore romano, July 8, 1972. The English translation is that published in the August 1972 issue of the lnIorrnation Service of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity. 1. The instruction just published proposes to explain the doctrinal rea-sons for the regulation of the Church as outlined in the Conciliar decree Unitatis redintegratio and in the first part of the Ecumenical Directory which was published on 14 May 1967. It is intended as a help to the bishops in the concrete decisions they have to make in regard to admitting to Eucharistic Communion Christians not in full communion with the Catholic Church. The doctrinal reasons for the regulation made by the Church are to be found briefly expressed in the two documents mentioned above. It seemed useful, however, to give a more ample exposition of these reasons in order to facilitate the application of a regulation which touches on certain basic points of our faith. 2. On the one hand there is a close bond between the mystery of the Eucharist and the mystery of the Church, and on the other hand the Eucharist is a spiritual nourishment whose effect is to join the Christian in person with Jesus Christ and to bring him yet more deeply into Christ's Church. These two statements are of equal importance and have both to be safe-guarded, whatever may be the pastoral decisions which pastors are called upon to make in particular circumstances. As it is, generally speaking, on the second statement that those who ask for "Eucharistic hospitality" in the Church base their request, the instruction aims to remind those concerned what may not be done at the expense of the first statement in which the inde- 19 20 / Review lor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 structible bond between the Eucharist and the Church is underlined. The regulation itself in regard to this matter, however, changes with the times. That brought in by Vatican Council II offers somewhat more of a welcome than the one in force previously. But the profound doctrinal reasons remain unchanged, because these are bound up with the very nature of our Eucharistic belief. The instruction does not simply take its stand on a general question of principle. It shows how the two statements can be safeguarded at the same time, and are in fact safeguarded, in the actual regulation laid down by the Church. Those called upon to express their views on this matter must constantly be concerned not to sacrifice the one statement in favor of the other. We have no intention of repeating here what can be found explicitly stated in the instruction. We wish simply to underline one point which this document puts very clearly. To ask a Catholic priest for the Eucharist, a member of another Christian community must feel "a serious spiritual need of nourishment from the Eucharist" (cf. 4b and 6). That sets the problem on a high level, that namely of profound spiritual needs. 3. The regulations laid down for admission to Eucharistic Communion are less stringent in the case of those belonging to the Eastern Churches, not in full communion with us, than they are in the case of other Christians. Why this discrimination? The reason is to be found in the first of the two statements mentioned above. On the question of profession of faith, of the sacraments, and of ecclesiastical structure, the Eastern Churches are very close to us, and so the risks of obscuring the essential bonds between the Church and the Eucharist are notably less. The instruction recalls the Holy Father's recent declaration as to the "communion almost total, though not yet perfect" between the Orthodox Church and our own. On the particular point of belief in the Holy Eucharist these Eastern Churches hold a faith conformable to ours in virtue ol the prolession ol ]aith made by the same Churches. On the occasion of being admitted to Holy Communion, therefore, their members will not be asked for a personal profession of faith in this sacrament "as instituted by Christ and in ac-cordance with the tradition of the Catholic Church." 4. The instruction ends with a brief comment on no. 55 of the Ecu-menical Directory. It recalls first of all the extent accorded by the Directory itself to the authority of the bishops in applying the general criteria to par-ticular cases. It then makes it clear that the two cases mentioned as examples in no. 55, namely deprivation of freedom and conditions of persecution, are not the only ones in which there is to be discerned a great spiritual need for the reception of the Holy Eucharist. It is clear that a need of this kind can be felt even apart from situations of suffering and danger. The case given of the diaspora (groups of non-Catholics settled in a Catholic country) is illuminating on this point. Instruction on lntercommunion / 21 5. The instruction is, then, an expansion of certain points of the 1967 Directory, which itself still remains in force. We may recall that this Direc-tory was the work of a "plenary meeting" of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity (this "Plenary" is the annual session on the part of the mem-bers of the Secretariat, composed of 7 Cardinals and 24 Bishops), to meet a need already made manifest in the Council. It was produced with the active collaboration of experts from different countries, of episcopal confer-ences throughout the world, and of various organizations pertaining to the Roman Curia, such as the Sacred Congregations for the Eastern Chu:ches, for the Evangelization of the Peoples, and for the Doctrine of the Faith. The Directory was approved by the Holy Father during an audience granted to the "Plenary" of the Secretariat on 28 April 1969. 6. A more or less similar procedure was adopted and followed in the case of the present instruction: --In February 1968 a mixed commission was set up, chosen from the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity and from the Sacred Congrega-tion for the Doctrine of the Faith, to study the interpretation to be given to certain norms laid down in the Conciliar decree Unitatis redintegratio and in the Ecumenical 'Directory on the question of "communicatio in sacri$." --In November 1969, the "Plenary" of the Secretariat was informed as to the conclusions arrived at by the commission, and then discussed the whole problem on the basis of a document prepared by a committee of its own Consultors. The "Plenary" requested the Cardinal President to set up a commission limited to three bishops to pursue the study of the whole matter. --As a practical result of this resolution there was a meeting of the three bishops concerned from May 30 to June 2, 1970, in which the question was studied, use being made of nine considered opinions given by as many specialists (Biblical scholars, historio-patrologists, theologians). This com-mission produced a report which was submitted to the "Plenary" of 1970. --In 1971, a new mixed commission, chosen from the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity and the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, determined the line to be followed in the production of a new pastoral instruction. This commission worked on two basic documents: the conclusions of the first commission (1968-69) and the report from the meeting of the three bishops (May-June 1970). --Along the lines determined upon, a sample instruction was worked out, which the Cardinal President of the Secretariat for Promoting Christian Unity submitted to the Sacred Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith with a view to agreement and possible observations. A definitive reply was given by this Congregation on 8 February 1972. --On being submitted to the Holy Father, the present instruction was approved on 25 May 1972. 7. With this approval of the Holy Father the present instruction is Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 now offered to all those who have need to formulate exactly the motives for the practice adopted by the Church, whether it be in pastoral directives, or in preaching, or in teaching, or in catechetics. Both the faithful of the Catholic Church and also the other Christian brethren who read it can judge how clearly our mode of action in this matter flows from our most profound religious convictions. We feel sure that this text will be studied by all with the same anxious desire for truth, for understanding, and for fraternal charity, as that which has inspired all those who have contributed to its production. Rome, June 29, 1972. The Prophetic Challenge of the American Sister Segundo Galilea Segundo Galilea is the Director of the Instituto Pastoral Latinoamericano in Quito, Ecuador. His article was sent to the REVIEW through the kindness of Hermana Lucy Martinez; State Coordinator of Las Hermanas of Colorado; 3635 Humboldt; Denver, Colorado 80205. I write this during the Bishops' Synod in Rome. They are discussing situa-tions of injustice in the world--above all, in the Third World. I do not know what solutions they will arrive at, but the theme of the Synod is in itself a message: it reminds us that the Third World is a world of injustice and poverty. I write as a Latin American priest. This means that I belong to a part of the Third World whose population suffers from chronic conditions of misery and injustice, while at the same time it becomes more and more conscious of the causes and their possible solutions. This is why Latin America is a continent in the process of revolution: its people look for rapid changes in order to arrive at a more just society. The Old Vision and the New Until a short time ago there was talk of poor countries and rich ones, o[ progressive countries and backward ones. The United States was a progressive, rich country and Latin America was backward and poor. What was needed, then, was to help the backward regions to progress. Govern-ments and individual North Americans have dedicated themselves for several decades to make loans and investments in South America. Idealistic and generous individuals have continuously traveled south in a hardy pilgrim-age, to collaborate in that development. The Christian layman and the American religious have participated in the vision of these things by degrees extending from paternalism to the conviction that there is a need for more 23 24 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 intense help lent by the North to the Latin Americans towards a develop-ment of themselves by themselves. Nowadays, for the conscientious Latin American, the existence of this vision has ended. In this fact is rooted his awareness of change. He has seen that the poverty of some countries is not only backwardness, but that it is due in a high degree to the richness of others. That is to say, wealth in the modern world consists of the power to impose international systems of markets, of interchange, and of industry which benefit the rich coun-tries and do further harm to the poor. Today the whole world knows that the poverty of Latin America is simply the shadow of the wealth of the United States, that there are not underdeveloped countries and developed ones, that there are only independent ones and those dependent upon them from a socio-economic point of view. (Latin America depends upon the United States.) We know today, too, that there are no rich countries and countries on the way to development, but only rich countries and countries on the way to greater underdevelopment. While the United States becomes richer every day, Latin America becomes poorer in the same measure. The loans and investments of North America do not really help us; they only tend to make the masses of Latin America more beggarly. Every economist knows that for each dollar that the United States invests in Latin American countries today, it gets back four per year. Therefore, when President Nixon fourteen months ago asked of a South American President if in his judgment the United States had sufficiently helped along the progress of his country within the past decade, the answer may have come as a surprise to any malinformed North AmeriCan: "On the contrary, I believe that my country has contributed considerably to the enrichment of the United States." Principal Source of Third World Poverty This very serious situation is the principal source of the poverty and in-justice of the Third World, more especially of Latin America, since the African Poverty is due in a larger manner to Europe. But it would be sim-plistic to particularize responsibilities blaming the government, or the com-panies, or the citizens of the United States, or the South American oli-garchies which benefit from this situation. The blame lies not in groups or persons who in their good will have often thought they were of help, but in the system: a system of economic and social relations which has made slaves of poor countries and has left rich ones to bask in a dulled conscience, believing that they apparently cannot do much else outside of extending personal and economic help. This is sufficient to calm their worry but does not allow them a vision of the basic problem: the necessity to liberate poor countries and to convert rich ones into abandoning their privileges according to the system. The liberation of Latin America and the conversion of the United States within a system of justice and not Challenge o] the American Sister of domination depend one upon the other. It seems to me that the differ-ence lies upon the more vital conscientization of the Latin American, inso-far as his need for liberation is greater than the North American's con-scientization of his conversion to a system which would tear him out of a consumer society and an economic domination. Furthermore, this conversion is not made easier by the degree in which the people of the United States has become, because of its riches, closed in upon and satisfied with itself. If this conversion does not come about, though, there will not be justice in the world---which paves the way in the coming decade for the violent revolution of the Third World. Prophetic Role of U.S.A. Church Confronted by these circumstances, I think the Church in the United States has a decisive and prophetic role. It should be the moral force-- disinterested and.free--to voice the interests of the poor fighting for their liberation, be they Negro, Chicano, or Latin American. It should be a prophetic voice capable of awakening the consciences not only of Catho-lics but of every North American of good will, to his responsibility as an influence within his own country towards ch~inge ending in international justice. The reason is that nowadays it is no longer a matter of going to Latin America to work for its development but of remaining in the United States to work for the reform of a system responsible for the misery of others. More important than going to teach the poor children of the Andes is the formation of a Christian youth convinced of the necessity to push for internal change once they attain to influential positions. This is why I believe that the North American sister confronts a prophet-ic challenge. My impression is that she is still the apostolic agent exerting the greatest influence in the North American Church given her position, up to now, as educator and catechist. For the same reason I believe that she must re-examine radically her educational attitudes and decide up to which point in time she will continue to form Christian generations of conform-ists satisfied with the prevailing system and little conscious of any serious social responsibilities. Each sister, then, should represent the prophetic conscience of the Church who frees its sons out of their "good conscience" and leads them towards social change. On the other hand, many sisters who have discovered either the Latin American situation or the poverty of the world have thought that the best way to make a personal response is to migrate south as missionaries. This, I repeat, is today more and more unnecessary. The role of the religious is to work for the conversion and conscientization of her native country, to be an impulse toward its social justice, rather than work in development programs in neighboring countries which in the end do not solve the basic cause of poverty--found more with the United States than Latin America. Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 Escaping Future Mediocrity I believe that if the North American religious communities want to escape from future mediocrity, they will have to create ways of making their sisters aware of these problems. This work is the responsibility of every Christian seeking justice, and it is nothing distant or alien to him. Each religious community should make of each one of its sisters a prophet of justice and of war against misery, capable of transmitting her message to various groups and generations of American Christians educated by her to a diversity of social roles. This means that evangelization in the United States should remind each citizen and the whole society that conversion to the kingdom implies not only personal changes but also a collective responsibil-ity towards social and legal transformations opening the way for the libera-tion of the poor countries. If religious life avoids these problems in its preaching of the gospel, it shall remain at the margin of history and will become irrelevant--because, in the end, the surest signs of reform within religious life are not external ones involved in activity, but the capacity to give prophetic answers to the problems of today's history. Contemporary Religious Spirituality and the Signs of the Times Robert S. Pelton, C.S.C. Father Robert Pelton has served as the Vicar for Religious Institutes in the Arch-diocese of Santiago, Chile. He is now the theological adviser for the programs of religious renewal within the same archdiocese. He is also the theological adviser of the Sisters of the Holy Cross in the United States. His United States address is: The Presbytery; St. Mary's; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. The text of the article was originally an address given at Mundelein College on July 16 1972 at the request of the Theology Committee of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. Preliminary Observations In his 1971 Exhortation to Religious, Pope Paul said: The aspirations of men to a more fraternal life among individuals and nations require above all a change in ways of living, in mentality and hearts. Such a mission, which is common to all the People of God, belongs to you in a special way. How can that mission ever be fulfilled if there is lacking an ap-preciation of the absolute, which results from a certain experience of God? This does but emphasize the fact that authentic renewal of the religious life is of capital importance for the very renewal of the Church and of the world,x I now wish to reflect upon such an authentic renewal in the context of the reality of our world--the "signs of the times.'"- I wish to discern with you the hopeful implications of this document, relating this to other docu-ments of the Church, and in particular those of Latin America where a special effort is being made to relate to the extraordinarily rapid changes in our times. 1Evangelica testificatio, § 54. "A Scriptural expression (Mt 16:1-4 and Lk 12:54-7) which was used in the Second Vatican Council and in particular in the Pastoral "Cotzstitution on tile Church in the World (nos. 4, 11, 40, and 44). 27 28 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 Fresh Implications for Our Spirituality In a particular way we, as religious, are being called to a deeper in-volvement in the Church's contemporary mission? This implies a more Scriptural understanding of "world" and a fuller understanding of "ascetics." In the New Testament those who spoke about the world belonged to a small and threatened group. Thus, for the early Christians, "world" referred to an attitude hostile to the Lord? In Christ's actions we see that the sep-aration between God and the world is fundamentally that of sin. It is in the understanding of "new life" that we come to grasp what our attitude to-ward the world should be. It is in the context of redemptive life and growth that theology describes the world for us. In contemporary theology, we may say world is all that touches us in our human experience, that which gives meaning to our lives, that which affirms life, that which has been completed and that which is still in process and projection, that which suffers. In the documents of Vatican II we have a similar description: ¯ . . the Council focuses its attention on the world of men, the whole human family along with the sum of those realities in the midst of which that family lives. It gazes upon that world which is the theater of man's history, and carries the marks of his energies, his tragedies, and his triumphs; that world which the Christian sees as created and sustained by its Maker's love, fallen indeed into the bondage of sin, yet emancipated now by Christ.5 Christian Asceticism Authentic Christian asceticism in any age is essentially a Paschal exis-tence, a creative and dynamic struggle in which new life emerges only through death. Both theology and modern day social sciences contribute significantly to the understanding of this asceticism. 1. Theological Principles In the Gospels we find ample evidence of the necessity to renounce oneself in order to arrive at Christian perfection: 3Evangelica testificatio, §§ 52, 53. aSee Jn 17:15-21. This is a classic text which develops this point: "I am not asking you to remove them from the world, but to protect them from the evil one. They do not belong to the world any more than I belong to the world. Consecrate them in truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, I have sent them into the world, and for their sake I consecrate myself so that they too may be consecrated in truth. I pray not only for these, but for those also who through their words will believe in me. May they all be one." The last sentence points out in particular the social mission of Christians. ¯ "Gaudium et spes, no. 2. The description of world and the later observations on asceticism are taken from Reflexiones pastorales, no. 4, 1971 (Vicario de Religiosos, Archdiocese of Santiago, Chile). This is a pastoral study prepared by the present author with a team of religious. Contemporary Religious Spirituality Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mt 16:24-5). Then he said, "If anone wants to be a follower of mine, let him re-nounce himself and take up his cross every day and follow me" (Lk 9:23). We must see this call to renunciation in terms of. the central mystery of Christianity: that of the death and resurrection of Jesus, and in terms of man's existential relation to the world. For Jesus, His death was His total gift of self to the Father, and for man and the world who are in-separably related. In His final prayer at the Last Supper, Jesus speaks of his "sanctification" or "consecration" to God by means of a total renuncia-tion of self. He often repeated, "I go to the Father." There was a distance that He had to overcome between Himself and the Father. He returns to the Father by a sanctification, by dying to the world of sin, and by rising to God. In Christ's return to the Father the personal sanctification of Jesus and the redemption of mankind take place. Jesus experienced the incompleteness of man and the need to over-come the distance that exists within man himself and the distance that exists between man and the Father. This "distance" or lack of integration is part of man's lot. Perfection for Jesus, as for all men, was overcoming the forces of disintegration, the forces which tend to make communion with men and God impossible. Man's incompleteness, his situation of imperfection is one in which there exist forces of evil and sin; that is, forces which tend to man's disintegration. Man's existence is a constant struggle to overcome these forces and to attain a union, a harmony, an integration within himself, with his fellow man, with nature, and with the world which is the place where he realizes this process. For the Christian the more he comes to live the Paschal mystery, the more he attains integration. And in order to attain it, he must enter with Jesus into an attitude of "consecration" by a total renunciation of the forces which tend to his dissolution. In this way the Christian accepts the call to renunciation of self and lives in a very personal way the death and resurrection of Jesus. With Christ he thus reduces the distance between himself and the Father. It must be noted here more explicitly that the aspect of renunciation (death) for the Christian operates only in function of his perfection or integration (resurrection). A renunciation .which is practiced apart from this spirit is neither Christian nor humanly of value. 2. Creative Discipline If there is anything the movement toward secularization has taught us, it is that man's search for perfection or integration is at its core a deeply human process. This articulates what Irenaeus said many centuries ago 30 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 about God being greatly glorified by man who is fully alive." .We have also come to see with greater clarity that complete integration is only at-tained through our total harmony with God as well as with the world. Expressed differently, integration is a process which includes all the ele-ments of our human experience, our relationship with ourselves in our own unique psychological and physical make-up, our relationship with the world in which we live, and our relationship with God who is the ground and center of our being. Certain aspects of this process seen in secular terms help us to amplify our understanding of Christian perfection, salvation, and particularly the role asceticism plays in its realization. Let us consider, first of all, the example of a human interpersonal rela-tionship. For a relationship to be of deep and lasting value it must be rooted in the dynamic rhythm of a mutual active sensitivity as well as a certain mutual creative discipline. Both grow out of an interior harmony within ourselves. To attain this harmony we must be sensitive to ourselves, and the relation that exists between ourselves and our friend, including both our capabilities and our limitations. The depth of our relationship will de-pend upon the quality of our perception together with a type of interior discipline. A denial of self is essential to the development of a meaningful inter-personal relationship. In this there is a need for creative fidelity which demands a balance between activity and receptivity in struggling to over-come the distanc~ which separates us from the other. This fidelity includes a faithfulness to what is perceived through sensitive listening as well as an excrcise of delicate initiative. Such an interpersonal relationship is a fragile, delicate, and tenuous experience. We enter into a reflection upon ourselves in a simultaneous act of identification with and separation from the object of our love. At certain moments we will assume a posture of disciplined separation to gain perspective, to evaluate, while constantly maintaining a sensitivity toward further growth. In' such growth there is an analogy with that which Christ achieved as He approached the Father in the redemp-tive act. Such an interpersonal relationship frees a person to be even more crea-tive in dealing with others. This whole process might be described as an ac-tive sensitivity which is quite different from a determined manipulation of self which has been understood and practiced as Christian discipline by many in the past. 3. Christian Asceticism as Creative Discipline Now let us look at this same human process in a more specifically reli-gious context to explore more deeply our understanding of Christian asceti-cism. The Christian, therefore, finds himself in the world, which is the place in which he works toward a fundamental integration and union with "See Adversus haereses, V, 3, 2; IV, 2. Contemporar[y Religious Spirituality / 31 himself, with his fellow man, with nature, alnd with God. His vocation is precisely this struggle for perfection, or lntegrat~on, as it might more aptly be called. Redemption comes to us through Jesus who in His gift of self overcame the incompleteness of man and the distance tl~at exists between man and the Father. The Christian attains his own personal sanctification in his identi-fication with Jesus. The renunciation of self; in this process is parallel to that of the development of a true human friendship. In his work of inte-gration the Christian must be sensitive to him~self, to his possibilities, to his limitations. His work, which is defined in tertrns of his human and Christian I vocation, demands the same discipline: openn,ess and sensitivity to the world in which he lives, to the inspiration of the Spirit, to his fellow man. He must be open to the Spirit in order to recognize His inspirations. He must enter into reality, into profound relationships with the world, in an attitude of complete giving, presence, a~nd service to that portion of reality which is his. He makes his activity in Ithe world an extension of him-sel~ and his inspiration. At the same time hie draws back in a disciplined separation from his activity in an attitude ~f quiet listening. By attaining a clearer recognition of inspiration, his activity once again becomes in- I ¯ spired and attains a greater quality of expression. Active sensitivity might ¯ also describe Christian asceticism. The ~deas of asceticism expressed in I terms of disciplined separation, of a drawing close in identification and of active sensitivity, might also be expressed in terms of a "rhythm of develop-ment and renunciation" and of "attachment and detachment" according to the thought of Teilhard de Chardin.~ f 1 Within the context outlined, we must be care u to recognize that Chris-tian asceticism is not merely an exercise of abnegation for the sake of ab-negation. Neither ~s it a practice that wdl automatically result in the per-sonal sanctification of the individual by the mere fact that he has denied himself. This concept of asceticism is an error that has continued too long ¯ in the formation of Christians and of relig~ou,s. Abnegation is part of a total process; apart from that process it has no value. God does not wish the suf-fering of men. The element of suffering that enters into the process of crea- I tive discipline defined in Christian terms is merely a side effect and not a goal. The Christian must not concentrate on the "value of his suffering," as if suffering were that which is of value. I~ itself, suffering has no value. It is merely an element of the dialectic into lwhich the whole person enters as a response to the Spirit and in identificati6n with Jesus in his self-giving. Asceticism depends not only upon man b~t upon the Spirit who invites the Christian to a free response and active cooperation. Christian asceticism consists in fidelity to the inspiration of the Spirit in a response of active sen-sitivity to that call. ;Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu (London: Fontana, 1965), p. 99. 32 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 It is only through such a liberating spirituality that we will be open to discover the "signs of the times" and thus contribute our share to the build-ing of the kingdom in Christ's vision that He may be fully all in all. An Integrated Vision In enabling our mission to have greater effectiveness it is essential to relate what has been said in the Exhortation with other documents. For instance, the necessity for religious to share in the Church's mission (§ 50) can be more fully understood when reflecting upon Vatican II's discern-ment of "the birth of a new humanism where man is defined before all else by his responsibilities to his brothers and to history" (G.S., no. 55). This, in turn, is related to a statement in the Development o[ Peoples: "What must be aimed at is complete humanism . . . the integral development of the whole man and of all men" (no. 42). This leads to a deeper apprecia-tion of Christian liberation which is: . . in its broadest meaning . . . the process of freeing man from all that prevents him from developing his potentialities and his obligations as a person who is created in the image of God.s Forming the New Person The Exhortation speaks of the necessity to form the "new man" spoken of by St. Paul (§ 38). But to achieve this newness it is necessary to go beyond what Pius XII referred to as the "technological spirit.''9 This is a spirit in which the quantitative and the measurable take precedence over the qualitative. Increasing material growth becomes an ultimate norm of a suc-cessful human society. To avoid being entrapped in such a mentality calls for a continuing conversion of heart. The Latin American Bishops said at Medellin that "new and reformed structures" cannot be built "without new men who know how to be truly free and responsible according to the light of the Gospel.''1° Necessary Discernment In order to make the necessary discernment in this dynamic process our prayer needs to be deep and constant as well as truly concerned with the needs of the "earthly city" (§ 49). It will be a prayer which, while it makes more profound our experience of God, will at the same time make us more aware of our own humanness and that of others. It leads us to a mor~ meaningful experience of what Douglas Steere refers to as "the prayer of presence": ¯ SFifth Inter-American Bishops' Conference, Statement, February 1970. ~'Christmas Address, 1953. 1°Second General Conference of the Latin American Bishops, The Church its the Present Day--Trans]ormation in the Light o] the Council (1968), v. 2, pp. 58-9. Contemporary Religious Spirituality / 33 ¯ . . in prayer where intercession is involved, I make those for whom I am praying present for myself by thinking of them and of their need and of the One who can meet that need in its deepest sense. Perhaps my friend is swept away by a persistent temptation to which he has yielded often enough to threate~ to glaze over his life, to numb the heart core in him, and finally to cut him off from ever sensing the deepest spring of love in another person or in the One that sustains him with both an unceasing and unspeakable love. In my prayer I make him present to me by thinking intensively of him and of the threshold over which both God's and my own caring must pass in order to reach him. I think, too, of this whole solace of intercessory caring which God's love and the love of the whole communion of saints is forever drawing at his life. My own caring for him is frail in comparison to this, but I feel that it is swept up into this greater net of attracting energy and that for all of its frailty it may be the decisive impulse that may touch my friend's decision and open to him those ever present forces that could change his whole perspective,al Our Spiritual Lives and the Signs o| the Times The Exhortation (§ 19) encourages us to avoid being carried away by an uncurbed seeking for our own ease, and in doing so repeats what the Council said about that bondage which modern man can suffer when he "indulges in too many of life's comforts and imprisons himself in a kind of splendid isolation" (G.S., no. 31 ). An authentic poverty and sense of justice (§ 18) must find a real echo in our lives since without these we shall contribute to what Medellin has entitled "institutionalized violence.''r-' Rather than being heralds of libera-tion and social catalysts we give scandal. By our failure to take social posi-tions, others can legitimately assume that we are in favor of the status quo. Spiritual Fruitfulness for the World It is in the building up of the earthly city with its foundation in the Lord that we give clear testimony to the presence of the Spirit among us. The religious life itself is a "little Church" in which the network of loving rela-tionships should become more and more evident among us. When the lov-ing bond among us is very evident we shall, in fact, be heralds of liberation and vital participants in the building up of the kingdom of God. Our Political Obligations In closing, it is appropriate to say a few words--particularly at this mo-ment in U.S. history--about our political duties. The construction of "a new humanity" cannot be left solely to the technocrats.13 Religious should contribute to this. This implies the art of politics, not in the narrowly parti- 11Douglas Steere, On Being Present Where You Are (Pendle Hill, 1968), p. 18. r-'This occurs when institutions do violence to others through unjust practices; for a development of this see Medellin, "Peace," no. 2,2,2. a3Paul VI, Acta ,'lpostolicae Sedis, v. 60 (1968), p. 393. 34 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 san sense, but rather that type of statescraft which fosters the common good through the moral use of power (Pacem in terris, no. 54). In the use of this statescraft we need to ask ourselves the type of searching questions which were proposed-at the World Conference on Religion and Peace at Kyoto, Japan, in October 1970:14 31. Religion cannot in good faith demand of society that it reform its struc-tures without honestly examining its own institutions and programs, including problems related to the ownership and use of property and the possibilities of self-taxation for development purposes. 32. In this examination we might ask the following, among other, ques-tions: What role is assigned to the young and to women in our institutions? Are these institutions designed to preserve the status quo or do they point the way towards the future? Is our institutional apparatus used to convey real knowledge to people, to relate them to their environment, and to teach them their rightful place in society? Is worship used as an escape from or as a means of relating men to reality? Do we fulfill our prophetic role by denounc-ing injustices not only in distant countries, but more dangerouly at home? Do we give voice to the voiceless or only echo the rationalizations of those who sit in the places of power? Finally we need to ask ourselves more explicitly just what is the con-temporary sense of politics and what should our competence be in this area in the United States. Recently the Confederation of Latin American Religious distributed a research text to pastoral leaders on "The Religious Life and the Socio-political Situation in Latin America" in order to probe more deeply into these relationships on that continent. As the text becomes more refined, thousands of Religious will be invited to respond to it. This in turn takes us back to the beginnings of our reflections which hopefully have led us to appreciate more the relevance of our religious spirituality in the context of the "signs of the times." We have seen that in Latin America at this moment there is a type of liberating theology which is very helpful in establishing these relationships. t~Working Group II on Development, Report, §§ 31-2. The Eucharist as a Central Theme in the Ghent Altarpiece Maurice B. McNamee, S.J. Maurice B. McNamee, S.J., is a faculty member of the English Department of St. Louis University; 221 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is becoming increasingly clear that, by all odds, the most persistent theme in Flemish iconography is the Eucharist. Some of my own studies have pointed up the pervasive interest in that theme in Medieval Flemish art;1 and other recent studies have called attention to the same fact.z The new-est ~orroboration of the importance of that theme in the art of Flanders is a recently published book by Professor Lotte Brand Philip, The Ghent Altarpiece.3 The work is something of a landmark in van Eyck studies. It presents a reconstruction and reinterpretation of the famous polyptych which is very persuasive and suggests new solutions to the many problems that, in the past, have intrigued and sometimes baffled such great art historians as Max Friedl~inder, Erwin Panofsky, Hermann Beeken, and Charles de Tolnay. Professor Philip's thesis that the twelve panels were originally part of an elaborate stone framed, multi-level altarpiece, which adapted ele-ments from reliquary shrine-altars, tower tabernacles, and rood screens, is brilliantly argued. It does handle the many problems of authorship (Hubert or/and Jan van Eyck), and apparent aesthetic and iconographic incon-sistencies between the various panels far better than any interpretation 1M. B. McNamee, "Further Symbolism in the Portinari Altarpiece," The Art Bulletin, XLV, 1963, 142-143; "The Origin of the Vested Angel as a Eucharistic Symbol in Flemish Painting," The Art Bulletin, LIV, 1972, 263-278. °-See, for instance, Ursula Nilgen, "The Epiphany and the Eucharist: An Interpreta-tion of Eucharistic Motifs in Medieval Epiphany Scenes," The Art Bulletin, XLIX, 1967, 311-316. :~Lotte Brand Philip, The Ghent Altarpiece and the Art o] Jan van Eyck, Princeton University Press, 1971. 35 36 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 previously advanced. The thesis advanced here, I am sure, will be discussed and perhaps challenged by art historians for many years to come. Methodology But what may be of particular interest to the readers of Review Jot Religious is a statement by Professor Philip in her Preface about the method-ology which she thinks ought to be followed by an art historian at-tempting the interpretation of a religious work of art from the past. She feels that too often these works have been approached in artificial isolation as "pure" works of art abstracted from the religious and sometimes liturgi-cal purpose for which they were created, with the result that their thematic, iconographic, and even aesthetic values have sometimes been misconstrued. This is Professor Philip's own pertinent statement on the matter: It is this isolated work of art which art historians have often sought to put into a broader context by linking its form and content to modes and trends of the period which were known to them from other fields. But while it may be instructive to see art in a general framework of Geistesgeschichte or sociology applied to it, as it were, artifically from without, we should not forget that for each individual work there had once existed a specific and natural "framework" quite palpable and concrete and supremely "sociologi-cal" in essence. Perhaps the simple and direct method of placing a work of art back into the very context of its own original setting and practical purl~ose can supply important new insights on the nature and meaning of a master-piece.' t Professor Philip's application of this method to the study of The Ghent Altarpiece is an excellent example of the fruitfulness of the method. I can-not here go into all the intricacies of the arguments for her reconstruc-tion of the .setting and purpose of The Ghent Altarpiece but I would like to call attention to some of the important new insights on the nature and meaning of this masterpiece that her study provides. General Plan In the first place she shows that the polyptych was probably planned as part of an altar complex in a chapel in Saint Bavo's Cathedral in which the Blessed Sacrament was reserved. It is this fact which may have suggested the all-pervasive Eucharistic motif of the whole polyptych. Professor Philip rather convincingly postulates the presence of a tabernacle in the center of a predella just above the mensa of the altar in the original compo-sition; and, on the analogy of The Mystical Fountain panel in the Escorial, which was undoubtedly derived from The Ghent Altarpiece, she further postulates a sculptured representation of Ecclesia accepting the mystery of the Eucharist on the left and of Synagoga rejecting it on the right. Above the tabernacle and predella and revealed through an arcade of columns 4Philip, ibid., p. viii. The Eucharist in the Ghent Altarpiece / 37 reminiscent of the supporting columns of a raised reliquary casket in a reliquary altar-shrine, would have been seen the existing panels of the Mystical Lamb and the four side panels of the judges, the knights, the her-mits, and the pilgrims . . . all converging on the Altar of the Lamb in the central panel. On the upper level, in the center, framed like the figures on a raised metal reliquary shrine, there would have been displayed the ex-tant great figure of Christ enthroned, accompanied by the Virgin Mary on His right and St. John the Baptist on His left, along with singing vested an-gels in panels on each side. This upper range would have been terminated horizontally at either end by the nude figures of Adam and Eve in a different perspective from that of the figures in the five central panels. They would have actually been incorporated into the sculptured frame of the entire composition rather than into the space of the center panels. And above this range Professor Philip postulates, again rather convincingly, the existence of a sculptured tower like the traditional Gothic tabernacle towers such as the one still in existence in St. Peter's Church in Louvain. And in it she further postulates, again on the analogy of several comparable com-positions in illuminated manuscripts and altars, the existence of a sculptured figure of God the Father. Christ the Priest Hence, in the complete composition as she reconstructs it, the icono-graphical program begins with the figure of God the Father on the top tower commissioning the Incarnation of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity. (This scene of the Incarnation itself would actually be revealed in the An-nunciation scene which would appear immediately below the sculptured figure of God the Father when the panels were closed.) At other times what would appear in this position is the figure of Christ enthroned ful-filling the destiny consequent upon this Incarnation--that of functioning as the Eternal Highpriest offering Himself as the Eternal Sacrifice to God the Father. His priestly function is symbolized by the crossed stole He wears and by the triple tiara. He is accompanied to the right and left, as He always was represented in the Byzantine Heavenly Liturgy, by angels vested in the dalmatics and copes of deacons and subdeacons of the Mass, who join Him in offering up the Eternal Sacrifice of the Mass. Mary sits crowned on His right in recognition of her part in that sacrifice because of the human body she gave Him in which He suffered and died. And St. John the Baptist, the precursor who foresaw and foretold that Christ was the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world, is enthroned on the left and points to Christ in the central panel. On the far extreme ends of this upper range, but properly represented in a different perspective than that of the figures in the central panels, are the realistic nude figures of Adam and Eve. They do belong here be~;ause it was their sin that occasioned the De- Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 cree of the Incarnation by God the Father and because they are also the first fruits of the redemptive Sacrifice of Christ commemorated in this range by the figure of Christ functioning as the Priest of the Eternal Mass. Art historians have spoken of Adam and Eve as being out of place in this range and put there by the artist to fill up empty spaces created by a clumsy combination of panels originally meant for separate altarpieces. This is so far from being the truth, Professor Philip points out, that the whole com-position was originally called The Altar o[ Adam and Eve rather than The Mystical Lamb. The fact that iconography and decorative details of the three central upper panels are derived from and simulate the raised metal reliquary of a reliquary altar symbolize, Professor Philip suggests, both the arks of the Old Testament and the Eucharistic Tabernacle of the New Testament. This again brings us back to the central Eucharistic focus of the whole polyptych. Related to this, too, is the beautiful gemmed crown at the foot of the enthroned Christ--a reminder of Christ's own glorification which followed His sacrificial offering of Himself and His resurrection as well as of the reward that.follows the Martyrs' sacrificial offering of themselves with and for Christ. This symbolic meaning of the crown occurs in many early Christian representations and is often actually associated with the Of-fertory of the Mass as it is, for instance, in the procession of Virgin Martyrs carrying crowns in an Offertory procession in the beautiful mosaics of San Appolinare Nuovo in Ravenna. The Mystical Lamb On the lower painted range and seen through an arcade of columns at a simulated greater distance than the large figures in the upper range and therefore in a much smaller scale, appears the figure of the Mystical Lamb. He is mounted on an altar and is shedding His blood into a chalice. He is on a vertical axis with the postulated figure of God the Father, and with the enthroned figure of Christ as Highpriest. Between Him and the figure of Christ as Highpriest above appears the much controverted figure of a dove, the symbol of the Holy Spirit. The Mystical Lamb on His altar is the central focusing point of a vast landscape stretching across all five panels of this range and acting as a setting for the great processions of figures from all walks of life moving towards the Altar of the Lamb. The altar itself is sur-rounded by figures of the prophets and apostles and by angels, all vested in amices and albs, either carrying the instruments of Christ's passion or incensing the Lamb on the altar. The whole vast scene is obviously focused on another symbolic representation of the Sacrifice of the Mass--but this time represented in the Heavenly Jerusalem. And Christ appears here not as the priest but as the Lamb--the Sacrificial Victim pouring out His blood for the redemption of mankind. In the figure of the dove hovering The Eucharist in the Ghent Altarpiece / 39 over the scene we are reminded of the action of the Holy Spirit in the Incarnation by which the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity became man and was thus enabled to become the redeeming Sacrificial Lamb. The Great Fountain In" the foreground of the central panel and again on an axis with God the Father, Christ as High Priest, and Christ as Sacrificial Lamb, is the figure of a great fountain, which, as it were, is being fed by the Saving Blood of the Lamb above. And from the fountain runs a stream which, in Professor Philip's postulation, terminates at the tabernacle housing the ci-borium which contained the real Eucharistic presence of Christ Himself. She remarks pertinently of this probable juxtaposition: With the representation of the Lamb's sacrifice shown directly at his eye level, the viewer was compelled to feel that he was witness to this scene. He saw the sacred water, the result of the celestial sacrifice, flowing directly into the vessel from which the priest would hand him the Host. The believer thus virtually became a participant in the celestial rite.g In this way the work of art becomes almost a part of the liturgical and sacra-mental function and underlines the significance of that function. There are many other insights that this new interpretation of The Ghent Altarpiece provides but I have room to call attention to only one more. Professor Philip presents good evidence for the former existence of a water color antependium that once hung before the altar table of The Ghent Altarpiece which represented Hell. Hence, with this antepen-dium in place, the whole composition could also have been read as a Last Judgment scene arranged vertically very much as the Eyckian Last Judg-ment panel in the Metropolitan Museum. In such a reading it is the accept-ance or rejection of the Sacrifice of the Mass, represented by the enthroned figure of Christ as High Priest and by Christ as Sacrificial Victim in the Mys-tical Lamb, and of the Mass in time as offered by the priest at the real altar in the chapel of Saint Bavo's Cathedral, that results in either the welcome extended to the blessed in the Heavenly Jerusalem or the condemnation meted out to the lost in Hell. Conclusion But, however you read the various motifs combined in this great polyp-tych, and there are several other motifs discussed by Professor Philip be-sides those that I have detailed here, the central focus of all of them is the Mass and the Eucharist. Professor Philip's relook at this greatly con-troverted masterpiece "in the very context of its own original setting and pur-pose" has indeed provided important new insights on its nature and mean-ing. Her study shows a marvelous interplay in this great masterpiece be- ~Philip, ibid., p. 67. 40 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 tween theology, liturgy, and art. And this more contextual study of the work has suggested some cogent solutions to the problems that have plagued the study of it throughout its history. Whether the reader can accept all Professor Philip's postulations and suggested reconstructions or not, her study does show how intimately art can serve theology and the liturgy; and, in turn, how much inspiration both theology and the liturgy can bring to a creative artist when they are all as happily married as they seem to be in her interpretation of this great work by Jan van Eyck. To Pray Is to Work Sister Marilyn Feehan, C.S.J. Sister Marilyn teaches religion at Cohoes Consolidated Catholic School and lives at St. Agnes Convent; 32 Johnston Avenue; Cohoes, New York 12047. The strong reactions of years past to the "to work is to pray" adage indi-cated the seriousness with which the dictum was taken. Conflicting opin-ions have explored, exposed, and explained not only both sides of the question but also the solid base of agreement that will eventually underpin any solution. Would that the same expansive reaction could be expected to the state-ment, "To pray is to work"! The self-evident quality of those words may appeal to some, but to at least two points of view, the phrase hardly qualifies as a defensible opin-ion, let alone an axiom. Two Objections On the one hand, those who are deeply immersed in visible, concrete activity often view time spent in preparation for, and pursuit of, the prayer experience, as time "taken from" rather than "given to." Measured in the scales of the unfinished business remaining on the agenda of man in general, and the Church in particular, prayer seems to weigh light, much as the scholar's pen is easily outweighed by the soldier's sword. The tangible ex-haustion of pouring oneself out for another testifies to the work aspect of so many activities, but is prayer seen perhaps as a private, esoteric action, a relic of the God-and-I syndrome? For some, then, prayer is not work because it does not seem to demand the exertion and effort of the concrete apostolates. On the other hand, those who see life iri terms of free, spontaneous gift, view prayer as an instinctive turning of the heart in its overflow towards 41 42 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 the Source of all that is good. What place i~ there i'n this for "work," foi" serious directed activity towards a foreseen goal? Have not the days of meditation points, reflections, and resolutions at least been replaced, if not repudiated? The insertion of a serious work element into the prayer ex-perience seems to threaten the human freedom of the act, to foreshadow perhaps a return to confining structures that once satisfied and now con-strain. For others, then, prayer is not work because it ought not to be such. This segment of the Church is skeptical of any view of prayer as a discipline to which one responds in reason, rather than with feeling. Both objections, in seeing prayer from too restricted a point of view, miss the overall scene. By zeroing in on the work quality of one kind of activity, the first group ignores the effort required in true prayer because it is not recognizable to them as work. One might well say: "The work involved in prayer is not identical to the work involved in concrete activity." Agreed, but need one add: "Therefore, it does not call forth real effort"? In fact, dare one add that judgment? Contrarily, by pinpointing the spontaneity of prayer, as a free response to the ever-approaching, ever-approachable God, the second group ignores the human process and fantasizes that prayer is somehow excluded from rather than the culmination of the normal cause-and-effect character of man's actions. To fail to reach the goal of union with God in prayer is a great sadness; to cut oneself off from that goal in the very name of seeking it is a tragedy. Prayer Is Work The thesis of this article is indeed simple: To pray is to work. The two notions in the proposition could well be clarified if the phrase is to be properly understood. In this context then, what is prayer and what exactly is work? Prayer is the union of the human person with the very Person of the absolute Good by means of tentative responses to the overtures made by God in this present life. This union may be fleeting or steadfast, whole-hearted or weak, clear or confused, but always directed in some manner to the God who first called out, from the man who humanly responds. Of particular importance in the definition is the overriding creative role of the personal Lord who initiated the whole process and elicits from man all that he is capable of giving at any one time. Seen from the viewpoint of the pray-er, the union can be dissatisfying, often marred by his very humanness, so unsure in both its verbal and sensible manifestations, but always pointed in vague hope to the future when he will know even as he is known. This prayer involves real work, that is, the physical and mental efforts To Pray Is to Work / 43 and activities that are directed towards the accomplishment of something, in this case, union with God. Again, any restriction of outlook to this single aspect of prayer as work would be a serious error. Let no one assume that personal effort is the only element of importance or that striving ever takes the place of receptivity to God's initiative. No, but on the other hand, let no one ignore these fac-tors. What kind of work is usually helpful in the pursuit of union with God in prayer? Three classifications of human effort immediately suggest them-selves: the physical, the intellectual, and the psychological. Physical Work Because God is the initiator, no formula of quantitative physical activi-ties can possibly signal the prayer experience. However, one can mention two observable physical efforts that usually assist it to take hold: presence and place. By presence is meant the conscious choosing of a situation that to the pray-er is sacred. Just as the needs of the body are faced, met, and often celebrated, as at meals, the need to pray should be faced squarely, met honestly and celebrated openly. To be consciously present to the Lord once or twice a day can well be termed "work" because of the effort and dis-cipline a man must exercise to examine the day, to plan out a possible time, and then to set the seal of sacredness on it in a very real sense. To wait for an available hour, to let choice melt into convenience, is to forego the human right to choose and follow through, intimating that man's role in this adventure is mere formality, ritualistic at most. By place is signified the thoughtful selection of a particular setting that has proved to be a means for opening the person to life, especially to Life Himself. For one, the choice is the quiet of a chapel; for another, a hillside in the evening; for one, the noise and stimulation of a city street; for an-other, the silence and peace of a private room; for one, the strain of dis-comfort; for another, the ease of a favorite chair. This is indeed a worthy search for any man: to seek out the physical scene in which the hand of God has easy access to him. But if the search is not made, if the meeting place is left to chance, will God come? Yes, but not as forcefully and fully ¯ as He would have if the pray-er had reasonably prepared himself. Intellectual Work Intellectual work is the second kind of exertion that prayer calls forth, or rather, that calls forth prayer. Two areas of overriding importance are serious study of God and deep thought about life, both of which require real effort. To meet a person and be fascinated by him is to want to know more about him, to come closer to him. In prayer, one meets God in a strange, 44 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 personal way and the natural reaction is to wander off, awe-struck, in search of more knowledge of Him and closeness to Him. In very fact, the Scriptures serve just that purpose in explaining bits and pieces of His actions, in exposing aspects of His person, in hinting at His secrets. Leaving the sacred writings on the shelf is tantamount to asserting that one has no need of or interest in them. They represent the inexhaustible source of truth and inspiration, one that is accessible but useless unless man's intelli-gence reaches out to it. In a lesser category are the spiritual writings that collectively trace man's aspirations towards God across the centuries. No one is called upon to master that myriad of books but certainly insights can be gleaned and deep feelings triggered by exposing oneself to those movements of other men towards God. The second practical intellectual work that prayer fathers forth is serious thinking on personal questions, religious or not. Nothing is easier to do than to put off, sometimes indefinitely, the reasoning through of a troubling situa-tion or the planning out of a future course of action. The outcome is fre-quently an inability to pray because the unresolved problem lies in wait to capture the attention as soon as man turns to the Unseen. Of particular importance is the exploration of the question put by Jesus to Peter: "What do you think of Me?" Often the picture-book images of God fade with the years while man carefully avoids examining the change for fear of what he will have to face, a fear that feeds on his closed intellectual attitude. Can man reach union with God in prayer without serious intellectual ac-tivity? Yes, but in this culture and time, for most persons, the intellectual effort is a practical necessity, though not a speculative one. Psychological Work Psychologically, a man works to keep his person open and at the same time to channel negative intrusions into growth situations, both of which require considerable effort. Because the pray-er is so vulnerable in the very act of praying as he ex-poses himself to the Lord, he is often struck, almost mortally, by his own weakness. Reacting to this wound, he can turn in confusion and deny his prayer in hopes of obliterating the pain. Or else he can work to face the truth, examine it, feel its deep shame, and wait in faith for the calm that will eventually come when he accepts himself as completely as God has al-ready accepted him. Of equal importance is the work involved in man's use of negative emo-tions to nurture positive development towards God. Self-pity in all its guises drives one away from prayer because of its centering on the person rather than on God, as a kind of subtle idolatry. Effort is needed to accept this weakness, then offer it as sacrifice to the Lord, and receive back from Him the self-knowledge that means growth. Merely collapsing in the face of such To Pray Is to Work / 45 an embarrassing self-revelation is hardly a stepping stone to prayer, but the end result can be a meaningful asset. God is certainly not bound to unite Himself to a man on the basis of his psychological maturity but He is clearly worshiped by a person's attempt to reach out to the unseen hand that in turn reaches out so lovingly towards him. To repeat the original thesis: physical, intellectual, and psychological work are an integral part of the prayer experience, with no claims of absolute necessity but rather a serious call on man's consideration in view of his very human needs. To ignore or belittle the work aspect of prayer is to fail to understand either work or prayer. To pray is indeed to work, not as a slave to fulfill a command and escape a punishment, but as a son to experience a joy and answer a loving Father. The Prayer of the Heart Michael Azkoul Father Michael Azkoul is a priest of the Russian Orthodox Church outside of Russia and lives at 912 Bellstone Road; Shrewsbury, Missouri 63119. A preliminary version of this ,article appeared under the title "Out of the Heart" in the March 1972 issue of The Russia, Orthodox Journal. In the Western world, the "heart" is considered to be the scat' of the emo-tions, especially the emotion of "love." Eastern spirituality, however, dis-covers in the "heart," kardia, not the source of emotions, but the spiritual center of man. As Father Meyendorff once observed, the "heart" is some-thing akin to the "subconscious." In fact, it is the very fount of good and evil in every man. In the words of our Lord: "For out of the heart proceeds evil reasoning, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, lying, blasphemy . " (Mt 15:19). Without the "pure heart," it is impossible to "see God" (Mt 5:8). We are commanded to love God with all our "heart" (Lk 10:27). It is with the "heart" that we attain salvation, for St. Paul writes: "If you con-fess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved" (Rom 10:9). Guarding the Heart According to the Eastern fathers, the "heart" is the central force in human nature. A man becomes what his "heart" is and the "heart" is what we permit it to become. Therefore, it must be protected from all evil in-fluence. "Guard the heart," phylake kardias, they admonish. Keep away from anything which might pollute it, that is, any situation, person, or thing that leads to sin, amartia. The Scriptures, the fathers, a spiritual guide,1 and 1In the East spiritual guides are almost always monks. The word for such a monk is starets (Slavonic) or hegemon (Greek), that is, an "elder" or "old man" who by the grace of God has received spiritual gifts such as spiritual insight and discernment, enabling him to act in a special way to be a spiritual guide or director. Anyone accepting that direction must expect to be absolutely obedient. 46 The Prayer of the Heart / 47 sometimes our own experience teach us what to avoid. Generally, we can "guard the heart" through obedience, humility, chastity, fasting, prayer, and the sacraments. In particular, the "heart" is protected by controlling the faculty of "imagination." This faculty of the mind, nous, is the power with which we form, compare, connect, and separate images. With it we speculate, phanta-size, and ruminate. The "imagination," phantasia, arranges the data given to it, whether from the world of objects and persons, a priori knowledge, or the experience of the mind with God or demons. The devil and his angels are man's great antagonists, according to the fathers. From the imagination, the "image," now received by the mind, passes irresistibly to the "heart" and from the "heart" to the "flesh." The body, then, is excited, agitated, sometimes driven to acts of violence, murder, lust, and malice. St. Silouan of Mount Athos (d. 1937) observed that every "passion," pathe, is the result of a "sinful image." And since, as St. Macarius of Egypt (c. 330) says, "the heart commands and rules the whole body," what enters the "heart" must reign over all the members of the body. So long, too, as "vexatious and lying images" govern the mind (and, therefore, the "heart"), we have no right to "philosophize about God," as St. Gregory the Theologian (Nazianzus) tells us in his Theological Orations. Indeed, such "philosophizing" is useless, for the impure mind and "heart" will bring no true knowledge, no union with God. Conversion of the Heart Conversely, the Holy Spirit will, by our sincere effort to achieve "pur-ity of heart," bestow the grace for its realization: Grace engraves the laws of the Spirit in the hearts of the sons of light. There-for. e, they should not draw their assurances from the Holy Scriptures alone, but the grace of God also inscribes the laws of the Spirit and the heavenly mysteries on the tablets of the heart. For the heart commands and rules the whole body. And grace, once it has filled the heart, reigns over all our mem-bers and thoughts. For in the heart are the spirit and all the thoughts of the soul and its hope. Through it, grace passes to all the members of the body. We become unlike the children of darkness in whose heart sin rules and from which sin infects the the entire body . . . (St. Macarius, Homily 15). Spiritual perfection comes only when every haunting of memory, every se-ducing idea, and every wicked image is renounced whenever they presume to enter the mind. There is, to be sure, no end to the struggle for perfec-tion in Christ. Objectively, the cure for sin is, of course, the redemption of Christ, but His saving acts must be appropriated, subjectively acquired, and ap-plied. The principal way is "purity of heart," a "purity" which is accom-plished, in the first place, by "mental prayer." Now, this "prayer" is im-possible if the mind is continually exposed to evil sensations, that is, when 48 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 the senses are subjected to spiritually debilitating perceptions. Reception of them by the mind induces the "imagination" to act and the results are cast into the "heart." "Evil images" in the "heart" eventually affect the body and, if not removed, the body finds itself in the grip of evil habits or pas-sions- greed, lust, hate, envy, gluttony, pride, and so forth. By means of the passions, declares St. John Karpatbius, the demons "torment our flesh with all manner of sin and throw the soul into confusion" which leads to "fancies," "heaviness of body," "increase of animal needs," "arrogance and haughtiness," "vainglory," "rejection of repentance," "forgetfulness of death," "despondency and boredom," "a special inclination for earthly occu-pations," and "hardness." The devil is relentless. He uses every means to "drag the soul after him," warns St. Barsanupius. He bombards our sense with sights, titillating, agitating, and licentious; with foods and drinks, delicious and pleasant to the eyes, with voluptuous aromas, and so forth; and, indeed, all the allure and power of the aeon rush upon our weak and vulnerable natures, ever-enticing, ever-proliferating, mounting, everything soft and warm and tanta-lizing, anything to storm the suburbs of the soul in order to conquer the "heart," its citadel. The temptations men face are those of Adam which St. John described as "the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life" (1 Jn 2:16). Spiritual Combat and Prayer The surest response to the incessant barrage of evil is "withdrawal," but not all men are called to be monks. We must, nevertheless, undertake the "spiritual combat" (Eph 6:10-9) which differs from the monks' struggle only by degree--only by the fact that "the field of battle" is slightly altered. It is true, nevertheless, that the spirituality of the Eastern Church is the spirituality for all her members. Monks are not a special class, only the highest stratum within the Church, albeit "the true and authentic Chris-tian," as St. Basil the Great calls him. For both monk and "ordinary Chris-tian," the enemy is the same, the weapons fundamentally the same. The great weapon is "mental or interior prayer," prayer with the Name of Jesus. In the words of St. Macarius: Be attentive to the Name of the Lord, Jesus Christ, by contrition of heart. When your lips are moving, draw it to yourself and do not lead it to your mind only to repeat it, rather ponder your invocation, "O, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy upon me!" Then, in your repose you will be aware of His Divinity present to you. It will drive away the darkness of passions . . . it will purify the inner man . . (Apoph, 16). The believer must turn away from the "outside world"-and seek the things of the Spirit--"The kingdom of God is within you"--a "turning," incidentally, symbolized by the Eastern Hesychasts who prayed with heads bowed and eyes fixed on the abdomen. To be sure, no one can avoid sense The Prayer o] the Heart / 49 perceptions altogether, but the believer can fortify himself against those in-imical to him. Also, the Church offers spiritually beneficial alternatives to the destructive sensations of the "world"--rites, icons, incense, psalmody, candles, vestments, prostrations, flowers, palms, and so forth. She well understands that man cannot exist within an "imageless world." Nor is the destiny of man to be a "pure spirit." The Jesus Prayer It follows, then, that Orthodox spirituality relates body to spirit in prayer. Posture and attitude, sound and sight are utilized. "Interior" or "mental" prayer also begins at the empirical level. It is initiated with words spoken aloud and only when we have perfected "interior prayer" does it become "prayer of the heart." The petition most common in Orthodox spirituality is the Jesus Prayer--"Oh, Lord Jesus Christ, Thou Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner" (an adaptation of the prayer of the publican in Lk 18: 10-4). This prayer is not only the epitome of Orthodox doctrine, but is implicitly the totality of her piety. As St. John Cassian wrote: "Let the Name of Jesus cling to your breath and your whole life, for it is your faith and your salvation." The technique of this prayer is not complicated. "Those who approach the Lord," writes St. Macarius, "should make their prayer in a state of calm (hesychia), peace, and great tranquility, without anxiety and con-fusion. Rather let him come to the Lord with complete attention (prosexein ton noun), with effort of the heart and sobriety of thought (nepsis)." When we come to pray, therefore, we must come humbly, without hate for anyone, without desire, ready to yield everything to God, confessing our sins, and holding to true doctrine. Neither must we be concerned what we are to say, for "the Spirit helps us in our weakness . . . himself interceding for us with sighs too deep for words. And He who searches the hearts of men knows the mind of the spirit, because the Spirit mediates for the saints according to the Will of God" (Rom 8:26-7). Furthermore, the body is involved in the Jesus Prayer (as in all types of prayer). There is no particular position, for it, although, in the Orthodox Church, kneeling is forbidden between Pasch and Pentecost and on Sun-days. Sitting, often in'a Yoga position, lying on the back are acceptable. When the invocation of God begins, we ought .to be relaxed. To keep the eyes from wandering, it is useful to use a candle and icon. Incense may con-tribute to the atmosphere, to give a sense of the Divine Presence and to set the mood for the great physico-spiritual task about to commence. Then, as The Pilgrim says, we must pray sincerely and ~lowly, "without ceasing," the Jesus Prayer. The words are repeated again and again. Some ascetics have recited as many as fifteen hundred in one night, some many more. Simul-taneously, the believer must str.uggle against contrary thoughts and fatigue, but persistence, night after night, will bring the victory. (Of course, there is 50 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 no reason to limit the Jesus Prayer to night and a certain physical posture; it may be recited at any time.) The Prayer o| the Heart Gradually, as we persevere in obedience to our guide (if one is avail-able) and continue diligently in prayer, the mind will be cleansed. The soul and body will be kindled with "the flame of grace," to use the phrase of St. Symeon the new Theologian. This is the sign of the Holy Spirit's presence. If we perfect ourselves sufficiently through prayer, fasting, obe-dience, chastity, and good works--prayer intensifying all the time--we may be privileged to see "the divine light," "the Light o~ Mount Tabor," "the Light of the Glorified Christ," "the Light of God's Uncreated Energies," "the Light of the Transfiguration." In other words, as the mind or spirit trains itself to resist evil sensations and control the imagination, the believer learns "to collect the mind in the midst of the heart and pray with silent words." Soon words will not be necessary, then, not even thoughts, because the Name of Jesus has entered the "heart" and is repeated, automatically, with the beat of the physical organ itself. The soul, like a flower reaching for the sun, ascends to God; the warmth of God's Uncreated Energies, Light and Grace, increase; the "heart" is "purged" (katharsis); and, finally, the total man becomes "di-vine" (theosis). Thus, being "like God," we shall "see" Him "face to face" (that is, the "deified" will "see" the eternal God-Man, the enthroned Christ --no one may ever behold the "face" of the Father). This "union" (he-nosis) is the final end of the Jesus Prayer, of all prayer, for, according to the Eastern Church, salvation is nothing else but "union with God," deifi-cation, the mortal becoming immortal, the corruptible becoming incorrup-tible, the sinful becoming sinless, eternal "rest," "partaking of the divine nature" (2 Pt 1:4). Bibliographical Note For those interested in making a more detailed study of Orthodox spirituality and of the prayer of the heart, the following books are recommended: The Arena: Art Offering to Contemporary Monasticism by His Grace, Bishop Ignatius Brianchaninov (originally published in Russian in 1867 but now rendered into English) (Madras, 1970). The Art o[ Prayer, trans, by Kadloubovsky and Palmer (London, 1966). The intro-duction to this work provides an excellent discussion of the Jesus Prayer. Early Fathers [tom the Philokalia, trans, by E. Kadloubovsky and G. E. H. Palmer (London, 1954). The same scholars have translated Later Fathers o] the Philo-kalla; at present, they are involved with other scholars in a complete translation of this formidable treasure of Eastern spirituality. The Ladder of Divine Ascent by St. John Climacus, trans, by Archmandrite Lazarus Moore (London, 1959). Mystic Treatises by St. Isaac the Syrian (Isaac of Niniveh), trans, by A. J. Wensinck (Amsterdam, 1923). Ott the Prayer o] Jestts, trans, by Archmandrite Lazarus Moore (London, 1952), Prayer and Work: Protestant Religious Orders for Women Elizabeth Moltmann-Wendel The following article is a translation of a German article that appeared originally in Evangelische Kommentare, May 1972, pages 280-283. The translation was made by Charles W. Pfeiffer, a doctoral student in the Divinity School of St. Louis University; 3658 West Pine Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. The translation is published with the kind permission of the editor of Evangelische Kommentare. The address of the author is: Dr. Elizabeth Moltmann-Wendel; Hausserstrasse 43; 74 Tiibingen, West Germany. In a poor quarter of Algeria there live three women. One works during the day as a teacher, another as a nurse, and the third keeps house. They subsist in the hot and arid poverty of those countless millions who live on the edge of society and suffer in their environment a spiritual and material deprivation which defies description and far outweighs any relief provided by social organizations. Their neighbors stand in amazement. The children are the first to approach and to quizzically explore the significance of this house which is always open to everyone. Out of these initial contacts a mutual trust begins to grow. The Muslim understand trust and come with their personal and social problems while the three women, having come from the security of bourgeois, European homes, learn from the Muslim how to survive and manage with a small amount of water. When the revo-lution breaks out, the white people hasten to flee the country, but the three women stay on to the even greater astonishment of their neighbors: "They have not fle!! God is present among us!" The Sisterhood of Grandchamp To live with neither missionary ambitions nor in direct diaconal engage-ment but in solidarity and friendship with the poorest of the poor is the basic premise of the Sisterhood of Grandchamp, a French-Swiss religious 51 52 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/1 order for women to which these three women belong. Similar to the French Catholic orders, the Little Sisters of Jesus and the Little Brothers of Jesus, without special words or deeds they "live friendship" at the apex of social distress. Thus they have founded cells in Lebanon, in the industrial area of the Parisian suburb of Saint-Quentin, in Vlaardingen near Rotterdam, in a high-rise apartment building in a suburban settlement near Lyons, in Israel, and in Lucerne. The sisters maintain their financial independence from the order by earning their keep as cleaning ladies, workers, nurses, and secretaries. One of them is always at home to keep the house or apart-ment open for those who seek advice or companionship. Their motto is "Pray and Work," and the community rule sums up their purpose in one sentence: "Be among men a sign of brotherly love and joy." In the beginning this order was actually of a quite different nature. During the Thirties some women from French-speaking Switzerland de-cided that through reflection and contemplation (retreats) they wanted to experience once again the meaning of their lives. They rented a house in Grandchamp near Areuse on Lake Neuenburger. An increasing number of guests desirous of some days of quiet meditation began to assemble. The reception of these guests allowed the women to gradually grow to-gether into a community. They designated themselves as sisters and asked the initiator of the first retreats, Madame Micheli, to join them in the capac-ity of Mother. In 1952, eight of the sisters and the Mother committed themselves to remain together for life. One year later they joined the young, Protestant, Swiss Brotherhood of Taiz6 in Burgundy and adopted the brotherhood's rule and liturgical prayer. During the closing years of the War the Swiss Brotherhood of Taiz~ grew fr

The Situation In Guinea-Bissau Report Of The Secretary-General On Developments In Guinea-Bissau And The Activities Of The United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office In ; United Nations S/PV.8186 Security Council Seventy-third year 8186th meeting Thursday, 22 February 2018, noon New York Provisional President: Sheikh Al Sabah . (Kuwait) Members: Bolivia (Plurinational State of). . Mr. Llorentty Solíz China. . Mr. Ma Zhaoxu Côte d'Ivoire. . Mr. Tanoh-Boutchoue Equatorial Guinea. . Mr. Ndong Mba Ethiopia. . Mr. Alemu France. . Mr. Delattre Kazakhstan. . Mr. Temenov Netherlands. . Mr. Van Oosterom Peru. . Mr. Meza-Cuadra Poland. . Ms. Wronecka Russian Federation. . Mr. Nebenzia Sweden . Mr. Skoog United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland . Mr. Hickey United States of America. . Ms. Eckels-Currie Agenda 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. 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). 18-04815 (E) *1804815* S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 2/19 18-04815 The meeting was called to order at 12.10 p.m. Adoption of the agenda The agenda was adopted. The situation in the Middle East The President (spoke in Arabic): In accordance with rule 37 of the Council's provisional rules of procedure, I invite the representative of the Syrian Arab Republic to participate in this meeting. In accordance with rule 39 of the Council's provisional rules of procedure, I invite Mr. Mark Lowcock, Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Coordinator to participate in this meeting: Mr. Lowcock is joining the meeting via video-teleconference from Geneva. The Security Council will now begin its consideration of the item on its agenda. I give the floor to Mr. Lowcock. Mr. Lowcock: My colleagues and I have given the Security Council a lot of updates on the situation in eastern Ghouta over the past three months. I want to start today by bringing members some voices directly from eastern Ghouta. The Office of the Special Envoy in Geneva has, just in the past three days, received thousands of messages on instant messaging applications from civilians there. They are pleading for help. Here is one of them, from a humanitarian worker in the area — a person well versed in international humanitarian law: "During the past two months, military operations turned into a process of systematic targeting of civilians. Most air raids have intentionally targeted civilian residential buildings. Whole families have died under the rubble. Today, and as battles intensify, I call on you, as a father now expecting my first child to be born, and as a humanitarian worker trying to maintain what is left of life, to act to stop the systematic operations against civilians and open the roads for humanitarian assistance." Here are more voices. "There are entire families being targeted. A mother and her three children. Four pregnant women; one died, another is in a critical condition, the third lost her baby, and the fourth is under observation. A young girl lost both eyes, and it is continuing." "We do not want war, we do not want war, we do not want war." "Can you hear our messages, voices and fear?" "Our situation is so tragic. Our basements are not safe and lack basic needs. Help us, be with us." "Instead of saying 'no more', the world is saying 'one more.'" As representatives of Member States, all here aware that their obligations under international humanitarian law are just that — they are binding obligations. They are not favours to be traded in a game of death and destruction. Humanitarian access is not a nice-to-have; it is a legal requirement. Counterterrorism efforts cannot supersede the obligation to respect and protect civilians. They do not justify the killing of civilians and the destruction of entire cities and neighbourhoods. The Council has been briefed in minute detail, month after month, on the scale of the suffering of the Syrian people. Our reports have indeed been endless: dead and injured children, women and men; airstrikes, mortars, rockets, barrel bombs, cluster munitions, chemical weapons, thermite bombs, suicide bombs, snipers, double-tap attacks on civilians and the essential infrastructure they depend on, including hospitals and schools; rape, illegal detention, torture, child recruitment and sieges of entire cities reminiscent of medieval times. Over the past 24 hours, heavy shelling and aerial bombardment of multiple communities in eastern Ghouta have reportedly continued, resulting in the deaths of at least 50 people and wounding at least 200. According to some sources, the total death toll since 19 February is close to 300 people. Twenty-three attacks on vital civilian infrastructure have been reported since 19 February. At least seven health facilities were reportedly hit on 21 February. The only primary health-care centre in Modira town was reportedly rendered out of service by airstrikes. A hospital in Duma city sustained significant damage from nearby barrel bombs. Also in Duma city, an obstetrics centre was damaged A hospital in Jisrein town was reportedly attacked, resulting in the death of a nurse. The two Syrian Arab Red Crescent centres in Duma city and Harasta town were reportedly damaged 22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 3/19 by the bombardment. Meanwhile — and this is also a point I have consistently emphasized — mortar shelling from eastern Ghouta is reportedly killing and injuring scores of civilians in Damascus city, too.Members all know the statistics of this conflict. They know that half the Syrian population has either fled the country or faced repeated internal displacement. These people have lost everything. They have seen their homes destroyed, their neighbours killed, their loved ones disappear. Everyone knows that the repeated confirmed or alleged chemical attacks in Syria have killed and terrorized Syrian civilians.Eastern Ghouta is a living example of an entirely known, predictable and preventable humanitarian disaster unfolding before our eyes. Everyone knows that nearly 400,000 people are besieged and that they have been besieged for more than four years. Everyone knows that in eastern Ghouta thousands upon thousands of children are facing acute malnutrition the likes of which we have not seen elsewhere in Syria since the onset of the conflict. Everyone knows that more than 700 people are in need of urgent medical evacuation to hospitals just miles away in Damascus city.We have all seen in recent days the images of bombs and mortars raining down on bakeries and medical facilities. According to reports documented by United Nations human rights colleagues, at least 346 civilians have been killed since the beginning of this month and close to 900 people have been injured. Members all heard the Secretary-General yesterday, in the Chamber, describing eastern Ghouta as "hell on Earth" and saying that we cannot "allow things to go on happening in this horrendous way". They also heard him pleading for "the immediate suspension of all war activities in eastern Ghouta" (S/PV.8185, p. 2).Earlier this week, UNICEF issued a blank statement, as it could no longer find the words to describe the brutality of this war. Its only message was that "no words will do justice to the children killed, their mothers, their fathers and their loved ones."This appalling violence is happening as we face significantly increased constraints on our ability to reach people trapped behind conflict lines. In recent months we have encountered greater difficulties in accessing people in hard-to-reach and besieged areas, particularly through cross-line convoys, than during any period since 2015. Since 1 December, for nearly three months, we have been able to deploy only three cross-line convoys, reaching just 67,200 people. Only 7,200 of those people were in besieged areas, less than 2 per cent of the overall besieged population. In 2017, through November, approximately 53 cross-line convoys reached people in need, an average of nearly five convoys per month. A cumulative total of nearly 2 million people were reached in the first 11 months of 2017, or around 175,000 people per month. Therefore in 2017 we reached 175,000 a month; in the past three months we have reached 22,000 a month. Those are not reports or allegations. We have complete, factual information on this, because they are our convoys.Moreover, the 2017 access levels were themselves nearly 40 per cent below our access levels in 2016. Access is not only limited on aid deliveries, but we are also seeing growing challenges to our ability to independently assess needs on the ground and to monitor aid delivery.When an entire generation is robbed of its future, when hospital attacks have become the new normal, when sieges of entire cities and neighbourhoods have become a lasting reality for hundreds of thousands of people, the international community must take urgent and concrete action. I have said this before and I will say it again. What we need is a sustained cessation of hostilities, and we need it desperately — a cessation of violence that will enable the immediate, safe, unimpeded and sustained delivery of humanitarian aid and services, the evacuation of the critically sick and wounded and an alleviation of the suffering of the Syrian people.The Council can still save lives in eastern Ghouta, and elsewhere in Syria. I urge it to do so. Millions of battered and beleaguered children, women and men depend on meaningful action by the Council.The President (spoke in Arabic): I thank Mr. Lowcock for his briefing.I shall now give the floor to those members of the Council who wish to make statements.Mr. Nebenzia (Russian Federation) (spoke in Russian): We are grateful to you, Mr. President, for the prompt response to our delegation's proposal to convene a special meeting on the situation in eastern Ghouta, in Syria. That certainly does not mean that other problematic areas require any less attention. In particular, not long ago, at our initiative, the Security Council discussed the dire situation in Raqqa in detail. S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 4/19 18-04815 And in general, over the past month we have revisited Syria's humanitarian issues more than once. I would like to ask Council members to listen carefully to what I have to say.It is past time to discuss frankly what is going on in this Damascus suburb. The mass psychosis in global media outlets of the past few days, working in coordination to circulate all the same rumours, is certainly not contributing to an understanding of the situation. When eastern Aleppo was in the news, propagandistic disaster scenarios were put forward for it — a city where, after it was liberated from the terrorists, warehouses full of medicines and medical equipment were discovered. At the time we demanded that the Secretariat conduct an investigation, but the report presented to the Security Council was blatantly superficial.We are constantly seeing images of the activities of the White Helmets, who pass themselves off as rescuers. They were long ago shown to be supported by generous foreign assistance, and they work closely with terrorist groups. As a general rule, they serve as the original sources of well-rewarded disinformation. We are given the impression that the whole of eastern Ghouta consists of nothing but hospitals and that it is the hospitals that the Syrian army is attacking. That is a well-known tactic in information warfare. It is a very well-known fact, however, that the militants everywhere make a habit of locating their military facilities in medical and educational institutions, but for some reason that inconvenient truth is not advertised.It would be a good idea to begin with the fact that there are still several thousand defiant militants in eastern Ghouta, including some affiliated with terrorist organizations, mainly Jabhat Al-Nusra. Some time ago, they breached the agreement on a cessation of hostilities with an attack on an armoured tank unit of the Syrian armed forces in Harasta. They are shelling Damascus, and the intensity of the attacks increases daily. Dozens of missiles are launched every day, and not a single area of the capital has been spared. For some reason, those statistics are not being taken into account by United Nations representatives, although the Permanent Mission of Syria distributes them regularly. We have pointed out that in a 20 February statement, an official representative of the Secretary-General described factual information as "reported" (see S/PV.8183). And today the Under-Secretary-General talked about reported shelling. But those reports could easily have been verified by United Nations staff if they had inspected the areas of destruction and visited the victims.The Russian Embassy facilities have been repeatedly shelled, and each time the same delegations in the Security Council have made up excuses to lay off the blame for these terrorist acts. One is compelled to conclude that someone is purposely helping the criminals avoid accountability. Incidentally, we are disturbed by the fact that not so long ago, representatives of some delegations who view themselves as leaders in the protection of human rights and international humanitarian law quite seriously said that the damage resulting from the shelling in Damascus did not reach a level deserving of the attention given to eastern Ghouta. Our immediate response was to ask how many people have to die to attain, as it were, the gold standard of sympathy? There has been no answer. Is it appropriate to pass over the tragedies in Ramadi, Fallujah, Mosul and Raqqa in silence while drumming up hysteria about Madaya, Daraya, eastern Aleppo and eastern Ghouta, encouraging militants to to further humiliate civilians?Incidentally, the coalition forces' methodical destruction of Raqqa is extremely recent. The memory of it is hardly likely to have faded so quickly. For some reason, when the Coalition bombing flattened Raqqa, no one sounded the alarm, demanded compliance with international humanitarian law or proposed an immediate ceasefire. Yes, the Coalition smoked the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL) out of Raqqa. We know that. But with that done, the United States has forgotten about the city. No one is clearing any mines there. Who is aware of the fact that as many as 50 returning civilians are blown up by mines in Raqqa every day? Nor do we see much enthusiasm from these famous activists about the worst humanitarian crisis of our time, which happens to be unfolding against the backdrop of the armed conflict in Yemen.The militants have turned the people who are left in eastern Ghouta into hostages who are not allowed to leave the area under rebel control through the Al-Wafideen checkpoint. The Russian Centre for Reconciliation of Opposing Sides has urged the illegal groups to lay down their arms and resolve their status, but they broke off negotiations yesterday, on 21 February. It is quite obvious that they do not care about the life and safety of the residents of eastern Ghouta, whom they use as human shields to hide behind. Their aim consists of continuing to negotiate 22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 5/19 tactical and logistical advantages for themselves. That does not seem to particularly worry these groups' foreign sponsors, who might be able to exert crucial influence on them. But no, they would rather maintain the status quo and organize loud campaigns blackening Syria and Russia.Energy is also being wasted on fragmenting the international efforts regarding a settlement in Syria. Instead of giving due backing to the Astana de-escalation process and the Syrian National Dialogue Congress in Sochi, which have become an important support to the inter-Syrian negotiations under the auspices of the United Nations in Geneva, we see ongoing backroom efforts designed to openly undermine the work being done through those platforms. On top of that, exclusive clubs are being created, one striking example of which is the so-called International Partnership against Impunity for the Use of Chemical Weapons, which undermines the established frameworks for international cooperation on non-proliferation. We know that preparations are being made for an unofficial presentation of that initiative in Geneva. We would like to reaffirm our position in that regard, which is that in view of the neutral status of respected international organizations such as the United Nations and the Organization for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons, representatives of their secretariats should not be associated with narrow initiatives such as these, which do not enjoy universal support.Many are now asking the logical question of how de-escalation in eastern Ghouta and other problematic areas of Syria can be achieved as soon as possible. The delegations of Sweden and Kuwait have come up with their recipe for this, in their role as informal monitors of the humanitarian dimension of the Syrian conflict in the Security Council. Their draft resolution — which has now been officially prepared for a vote, despite the fact that the authors know perfectly well that there is no agreement on it — proposes an apparently simple idea, which is the establishment of a ceasefire throughout Syria for not less than 30 days. We would very much like to know how such a truce will be guaranteed, but we have had no intelligible answers. The important thing, they say, is adopting the decision, and we can come up with the details later. An issue as complex as the Syrian conflict does not respond to such logic. We have been through this before, including, once again, in the case of eastern Aleppo.In principle, a ceasefire would be extremely significant, and not just for ensuring the delivery of humanitarian aid. The challenge is in how to achieve it. What we need here is not resolutions for the sake of resolutions, but measures that correspond to the realities on the ground. We are constantly talking about ensuring that the Security Council agrees on feasible decisions that are not divorced from reality or that cater to populist demands. This is about the credibility of the principal organ of the United Nations, responsible for the maintenance of international peace and security, in accordance with the Charter, whose purposes and principles we were discussing only yesterday. If we could stop the violence in crisis zones with resolutions, we would already be living in a completely different world.It will take long and hard work with the sides to the conflict to stabilize the situation so that the parties can sit down at the negotiating table and come up with the parameters for a ceasefire. There is no other way. It will also be impossible to ensure on paper that in 48 hours, or any other amount of time, humanitarian convoys can get going and mass medical evacuations begin. By the way, specific parameters for normalizing a number of complex issues are currently being formulated in Geneva, including by using the potential of the specialist International Syria Support Group. They include the Rukban camp for displaced persons — where, we understand, the United States military presence occupying the area has finally given the United Nations written guarantees — the Yarmouk camp, where the ISIL terrorists still have a presence, and the Fua and Kefraya enclaves.In that connection, I would like to know if the authors of today's initiative genuinely do not understand its utopian nature or if there is some other purpose at work here that has nothing to do with a desire to help struggling Syrians. Unfortunately, the story of eastern Aleppo in 2016 suggests that the second is true, and that the aim is to start a fight so as to strengthen international pressure on the Syrian authorities and slander Russia. Besides that, it shifts the focus from the importance of reviving the Geneva process as quickly as possible on the basis of the agreements that the Syrians arrived at in Sochi to indiscriminate accusations against the Syrian Government. Will that improve Geneva's chances of success?I will say it again to make sure that everyone hears it one more time. Russia will continue to do everything S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 6/19 18-04815 possible to achieve peace in Syria and restore stability to the Middle East. We call on our partners to do the same in a spirit of constructive cooperation and in cooperation with the United Nations, rather than continuing to sow confusion, ramp up support for jihadists and tear the region apart. For this draft resolution to be meaningful and realistic, the Russian delegation has prepared some amendments to it that we will now circulated to Council members.Mr. Skoog (Sweden): I would like to thank the Russian Federation for calling for a meeting on the horrendous situation in eastern Ghouta, and Mr. Mark Lowcock for his briefing. I will now make some brief remarks on behalf of Sweden and Kuwait.In seven years of war, the situation in the besieged area of eastern Ghouta has never been worse. I would like to thank the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs for another briefing reminding us of the horrific reality for citizens in eastern Ghouta and of the Council's responsibilities. Yesterday, in this Chamber, the Secretary-General said that the 400,000 inhabitants of eastern Ghouta live in hell on earth. His appeal to all of us in the Council was to act — to immediately suspend all war activities in eastern Ghouta, allowing for humanitarian aid to reach all of those in need, allowing for the evacuation of the hundreds of people that need urgent treatment and that cannot be provided for and allowing the possibility for other civilians to be effectively treated. I want to take this opportunity to remind all parties, as Mark Lowcock just did, of their obligations under international law to protect civilians and hospitals and other medical facilities.The co-penholders, Sweden and Kuwait, have put forward a draft resolution to respond to the constant legitimate calls from the United Nations for a nationwide cessation of hostilities for 30 days in order to allow for humanitarian access and emergency medical evacuations. Our draft resolution also calls for the lifting of the siege directed against eastern Ghouta. We plead to all Council members to come together to support the draft resolution and to urgently adopt it so that we can halt the incessant attacks against eastern Ghouta and beyond, and we can avert a situation that is beyond words in its desperation. We, Sweden and Kuwait, furthermore urge the parties to the de-escalation agreement in eastern Ghouta to comply and implement it. We call upon the Astana guarantors — Russia, Iran and Turkey — to spare no effort and bring all their influence to bear on the parties to that end to avert the human disaster unfolding before our eyes.In response to our Russian colleague on our draft resolution, the United Nations convoys and evacuation teams are ready to go, subject to standard security procedures. The draft resolution that we are putting forward is not a comprehensive peace deal. Its aim is a much-needed humanitarian pause for an initial period of 30 days. There are already ceasefire agreements in force for the areas where fighting has escalated the most recently. They must be complied with. There are existing monitoring mechanisms that can be utilized. The role of the Council, I believe, is to push the parties to the conflict to comply with the proposed cessation of hostilities. Compliance is on the shoulders of the parties. I think that we can make a difference, and I think that we are tested today — not just as Ambassadors representing our countries, but as human beings. That is a massive responsibility.The President (spoke in Arabic): I shall now make a statement in my capacity as the Deputy Prime Minister and Minister for Foreign Affairs of Kuwait. At the outset, I would like to thank Mr. Mark Lowcock, Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Coordinator, for his briefing today. The remarks in Mr. Lowcock's statements are in line with the Secretary-General's remarks yesterday morning (see S/PV.8185) — that eastern Ghouta can wait no longer. There is tremendous suffering there, with 400,000 people who are living hell on Earth.We support all what the Permanent Representative of Sweden, Mr. Skoog, said in his statement on behalf of Kuwait and Sweden as co-penholders of the humanitarian dossier in Syria. It is unfortunate that the number of people killed since the beginning of this month in eastern Ghouta has reached 1,200 civilians. The international community is silent; it stands still. The question here is: How long we are going to remain silent? How many more civilians, women, children and elderly must die or be displaced until the international community starts taking action and speaking in one voice and saying enough — enough carnage and grave violations of human rights law and international human law? In that regard, I would like to make the following points.22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 7/19 First, Kuwait and Sweden, in response to the clear-cut demands of the United Nations on the humanitarian situation in Syria, have jointly submitted a simple and clear draft resolution that demands a cessation of hostilities across Syria for a 30-day period in order for the United Nations and its partners to be able to deliver humanitarian aid and services and provide critical medical evacuation to the sick and wounded, in accordance with the provisions of international law, and end the blockade on residential areas.Secondly, action on the part of the the State of Kuwait is based on our religious and national duty to our brothers in Syria. We have a legal, human and ethical responsibility to end their suffering. In that connection, we call on all Member States to support the draft resolution and vote in its favour. We should rise above our political differences to protect civilians.Thirdly, a failure to ende the systematic and horrendous carnage and bloodshed that has continued for seven years with various weapons would only serve to encourage the perpetuation of such crimes without accountability, as those who commit them are heartened by impunity.I now resume my functions as President of the Council.Ms. Eckels-Currie (United States of America): I thank Under-Secretary-General Lowcock for his briefing, particularly his noting of the systematic targeting of civilians in eastern Ghouta and the toll that it is taking on the people there.Yesterday, Russia's Permanent Representative requested this meeting in order to "make sure that all parties can present their views". The view that Mr. Lowcock presented today is, as the Secretary-General said and others have repeated, one of hell on Earth for the people of eastern Ghouta. I would also like to share the vision of some of the people of eastern Ghouta.Bilal is 22 years old, with a wife who is five months pregnant. He says, "We are waiting our turn to die; this is the only thing I can say". Abdullah is a construction worker, with a wife and six children. He says,"Bombs were falling everywhere near our house. We have been spending the last week digging into the rubble of nearby areas with our bare hands."Malik is a doctor treating the wounded. He says,"The hospitals have been overflowing with blood. We are doing what we can to help, but the situation is becoming unbearable."Those are just a few of the overwhelming number of horrific stories coming out of eastern Ghouta everyday. The pictures and videos are everywhere — screaming parents digging through rubble to find their children; doctors working frantically with no medicine and no equipment in underground hospitals to save whoever they can. Those are not terrorists showing up in these makeshift emergency rooms — they are civilians. They are ordinary people, under attack by a barbaric Al-Assad regime that is bent on levelling eastern Ghouta to the ground, with no regard for the 400,000 men, women and children who live there.No one needs to use their imagination to know what the Al-Assad regime is planning. It is exactly what we saw in Aleppo in 2016, and in Hama and Homs before that. The Al-Assad regime wants to bomb or starve of all of its opponents into submission. That is why, except for two small deliveries of aid, the regime has not allowed any medical convoys or deliveries of food into eastern Ghouta since November, and the bombing attacks have been relentless. The regime wants to keep bombing and gassing these 400,000 people, and the Al-Assad regime is counting on Russia to make sure the Council is unable to stop their suffering.Yesterday the Russian representative asked for the parties to present their views, and has put forward a deeply cynical one today. Those present have now also heard from the United Nations humanitarian leader and from people, like Bilal, Abdullah and Malik. The assault from the regime is relentless, and the suffering is overwhelming. The Russian Permanent Representative also asked that we "come up with ways of getting out of the situation." Yet it appears to be intent on blocking any meaningful effort to do so.None of us on the Council need to look very far for the way out. Thanks to the tireless efforts of our colleagues from Kuwait and Sweden, the way is sitting in front of us. We have a draft resolution establishing a 30-day ceasefire to help shield the people of eastern Ghouta and allow for deliveries of food and medicine to arrive. All 15 of us have spent the past three weeks negotiating that text, patiently attempting to work with each other, including the Russian delegation. We believed we had an agreed text. There are no surprises here. The United S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 8/19 18-04815 States is ready to vote on the draft resolution — right here and right now. All of us should be ready. Sweden and Kuwait have consulted everyone on that text. They have done their part. There is no reason to delay. Literally, the minute this meeting ends, the Council can take the clearest possible step to help — vote for a ceasefire and vote for humanitarian access.What the people of Eastern Ghouta need is not complicated, and do not just take our word for it. The International Committee of the Red Cross head of delegation in Syria summed it up, "This is madness and it has to stop". The United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights, Prince Zeid, asked,"How much cruelty will it take before the international community can speak with one voice to say enough dead children, enough wrecked families, enough violence, and take resolute concerted action to bring this monstrous campaign of annihilation to an end?"UNICEF can hardly put words on a page. All UNICEF said in a haunting statement was, "No words will do justice to the children killed, their mothers, their fathers and their loved ones". The Secretary-General made his point clearly yesterday. He supports the cessation of hostilities because eastern Ghouta cannot wait.Yesterday Russia's Permanent Representative asked what we should do about eastern Ghouta. The people of eastern Ghouta, United Nations officials, humanitarian and human rights leaders and, indeed, pretty much the entirety of the Council have answered: stop the bombing of eastern Ghouta and allow medical assistance in. The rest of the Council is ready to act. We urge the Council to move forward with the ceasefire and humanitarian draft resolution immediately.Mr. Ma Zhaoxu (China) (spoke in Chinese): I would like to thank Russia for its initiative in convening this meeting. I also thank Under-Secretary-General Lowcock for his briefing.Recently, the security situation in parts of Syria, including its capital, Damascus, and the eastern Ghouta region, has escalated, causing significant civilian casualties, which is drawing broad attention from the international community. China would like to express its profound sympathy to the Syrian people for their suffering. We condemn all acts of violence that target civilians and civilian facilities and harm innocent lives. China has always believed that there is no military solution to the Syrian issue; it would only aggravate the suffering of the Syrian people. A political settlement is the only way out.The present situation is now such that the international community needs to support the Syrian parties in the resumption of dialogue and negotiations under the United Nations mediation as soon as possible and in seeking a solution that is accepted by all parties through a Syrian-owned and Syrian-led political process. That is the only way to fundamentally ease the humanitarian situation in Syria and rid the Syrian people of their suffering at an early date.Terrorist organizations are still launching attacks in Syria, which have caused significant civilian casualties and impeded humanitarian relief efforts by the United Nations. The international community should strengthen its cooperation on counter-terrorism, adopt unified standards and resolutely combat all terrorist organizations designated as such by the Security Council.As part of the Syrian issue, the humanitarian aspect in the country is closely linked to Syria's overall situation, in addition to its political process. Actions taken by the Security Council on Syria's humanitarian issue should not only help ease the overall humanitarian situation in the country, but also help consolidate the momentum for a ceasefire in Syria and be conducive to the bigger picture of a political settlement to the issue. China calls upon the Security Council to remain united on the issue of Syria, speak with one voice and create favourable conditions for substantive progress in Syria's political process at an early date.Mr. Delattre (France) (spoke in French): I would like to thank Mr. Mark Lowcock for his enlightening briefing of the situation of the inhabitants of eastern Ghouta. Mr. Lowcock has said it all — the torrent of fire that is indiscriminately falling eastern Ghouta is relentlessly pushing the limits of horror and human suffering. There are no words to describe what is taking place in eastern Ghouta as we speak.The regime is not merely bombing its own people. It is methodically targeting hospitals and vital infrastructure for the population with the macabre aim of ensuring that the injured who have not perished during the shelling do not survive the wounds inflicted upon them. We must insist that the attacks against hospitals and health-care personnel constitute war crimes, and the perpetrators must be held accountable.22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 9/19 The reports we have received from non-governmental organizations and the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights are unbearable. Twenty eight attacks struck 20 hospitals in eastern Ghouta since January. More than 700 individuals are in need of urgent medical evacuation. Those evacuations are systematically blocked by the Damascus regime, which has been the case for months. More than 400,000 people, including 130,000 children, have been besieged for months by the regime as part of a siege that is reminiscent of the Middle Ages.We should make no mistake: the Syrian regime and its allies are brandishing the fight against jihadist fighters, the need for which no one is disputing, as justification of an offensive aimed at entirely different goals. Its real intentions are indeed to annihilate any and all opposition and break the morale of civilians by indiscriminately massacring them. The offensive against eastern Ghouta, which has seen an unbridled acceleration in recent years — the worst of which is undoubtedly yet to come — has added to both the methods and consequences of the new Aleppo. Let us recall that in that city the intensification of bombing preceded a reconquest operation and unknown levels of violence that never sought to shield civilians or rule out the use of chemical weapons. We shall be particularly vigilant on the latter.Yesterday, through President Macron, France emphatically condemned the indiscriminate shelling of residential areas and civilian infrastructure. We called for the immediate establishment of a ceasefire to enable medical evacuations and humanitarian access to the people. The Secretary-General also spoke resolutely along the same lines. As was recalled this morning by the French Foreign Minister, Mr. Jean-Yves Le Drian, any lack of action is an indication of guilt. We must act swiftly, for the Council has the means at its disposal, if the willingness is put forth.Sweden and Kuwait, the commitment of which France commends, have proposed a draft resolution demanding an immediate cessation of hostilities to enable humanitarians to evacuate the wounded and gain access to the people. The draft resolution before us does not seem to me to be a political judgement. It conveys the humanitarian imperative that, as such, must bring us together. Accordingly, we have noted Russia's intention to propose changes to the draft resolution. We will consider them, but it is crucial that we quickly adopt the draft resolution so that a cessation of hostilities takes place immediately, as addressing the situation on the ground is of the utmost urgency.A cessation of hostilities is not a concession. It is the minimal form of response to the repeated requests of the United Nations and humanitarian actors, which have been communicated by members of the Council. Subsequently, it is up to the regime's supporters to ensure full respect and to respond to all calls for access to humanitarian assistance and medical evacuations under international humanitarian law. It is inconceivable to us that a Council member could be opposed to that.At the same time, we must — and France stands ready to — redouble our efforts to establish a neutral environment that will allow for a credible political process and the holding of elections in Syria. Since the beginning of the Syrian crisis, France has consistently advocated for the priority of achieving a negotiated solution to the military situation and of finding a political solution that satisfies the aspirations of the Syrian people, ensures lasting peace and stops terrorism in its tracks. France will not deviate from the road map adopted by the international community. We have already said, and will say once again, that only a political, inclusive solution, established under the auspices of the United Nations through enabling a political transition within the framework of the Geneva process and resolution 2254 (2015), will end the suffering of the Syrian people in a credible and lasting manner.I should like to conclude with both a warning and an appeal. Not only has the situation in Syria reverted to the tragic darkest hours of the crisis, but, if we fail to react robustly and immediately — let us make no mistake — the worst is yet to come. The worst is the endless escalation of the humanitarian crisis that is crushing the people, any semblance of humanity and the very values underpinning the United Nations. A widespread ground campaign directed against eastern Ghouta might well be the next deadly stage. The worst is also the expansion of the conflict. The combination of circumstances before us today might lead to a potentially major regional or even international confrontation. That risk must be taken very seriously.In the name of our shared values and interests, I call on every member of the Council to join and act together. We owe that to the civilians who are dying by the hundreds in the hell in eastern Ghouta. We owe it to the security of the region and of the world, which S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 10/19 18-04815 we have the collective responsibility to protect. We owe it to upholding the credibility of the United Nations, which is our shared heritage. Let us beware that the Syrian tragedy does not also become the grave of the United Nations.Mr. Meza-Cuadra (Peru) (spoke in Spanish): We thank Mr. Lowcock, Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs and Emergency Relief Coordinator, for his briefing today on the tragic situation facing the more than 400,000 people living in eastern Ghouta and in other cities.We heard with dismay that, in that area, the basic principles of international humanitarian law and human rights continue to be disregarded. That has been evidenced by the incessant and merciless bombardments resulting in hundreds of civilian casualties — many of whom are women and children — on a daily basis. Far from decreasing, the bombardments have intensified over the past several days and weeks, as has been the case with regard to the number of people with urgent medical issues who are dying because they cannot be evacuated. We deeply regret that humanitarian convoys are unable to reach besieged and difficult-to-access areas, such as eastern Ghouta, among others, despite repeated appeals from the United Nations and various countries, including Peru, to facilitate immediate, safe and unrestricted access in eastern Ghouta, as well as other areas of Syria.All those facts, which are ultimately allowing for and fuelling a hell on Earth, as the Under-Secretary-General just pointed out to us, warrant our strongest condemnation. We must remind all parties, including the Syrian authorities, of the responsibility to protect the civilian population. The United Nations has determined various actions that can be taken to alleviate the suffering of civilians in eastern Ghouta and other affected areas. We stress the importance of the immediate implementation of a 30-day cessation of hostilities to allow for providing aid and setting out and implementing the humanitarian assistance response plan and the five priorities that Mr. Lowcock mentioned. Those are all indispensable and urgently needed measures that Peru fully supports.Implementing them will require a genuine political will to reverse direction and turn them into a reality. Accordingly, we thank Sweden and Kuwait for their generous efforts to reach a consensus on a draft resolution on a cessation of hostilities, which we hope can be adopted as soon as possible. It is of the utmost importance that Council members, in particular those who are able to exercise their influence on the ground, show the world their unity, sense of duty and willingness to compromise, and that we send a clear signal that prioritizes human beings over other interests.The Council must be able to rise to the occasion and fulfil its sensitive and important responsibilities. All can count on my delegation's commitment to carrying out actions that will alleviate the human suffering in eastern Ghouta and throughout Syria.Mr. Van Oosterom (Netherlands): We thank the presidency for convening this meeting, and I thank Mark Lowcock for his sobering briefing. I will address the following three points: first, the escalation of violence in eastern Ghouta, secondly, international humanitarian law, and, thirdly, action by the Security Council.First, with regard to the escalation of violence in eastern Ghouta, we are meeting at a moment of grave distress for the people in eastern Ghouta and elsewhere in Syria. We have seen the extreme escalation of violence in Idlib and eastern Ghouta, which was initiated a few weeks ago by the Syrian regime and its allies. That has severely intensified over the past several days and continues without pause, as Mark Lowcock clearly described. We condemn all indiscriminate attacks directed against civilians. Communities in eastern Ghouta have experienced the most intense bombardments since the beginning of the siege in 2012. Mortars are also being fired into Damascus. Families do not have a safe place to hide. Women and children are dying. Last Monday, the United Nations reported, over a period of just 13 hours, at least, 92 civilian deaths in eastern Ghouta, and the total death toll since Monday appears to stand now at approximately 300.We continue to receive reports of attacks on hospitals and of the renewed use of chemical weapons, thereby leading to the inhumane suffering of civilians and those who try to help them. We pay tribute to the humanitarian efforts of the White Helmets. We condemn targeted attacks against them. While the indiscriminate bombardment of civilian-populated areas continues, desperately needed humanitarian aid, including medical aid, for the people of eastern Ghouta cannot be delivered. We condemn the incessant violence and the barbaric tactics of besiegement. We have seen those tactics before. If we think back to Aleppo in December 2016, the same scenario took place. The regime turned 22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 11/19 that city into an unlivable hell where civilians were imprisoned, constantly targeted from the air and cut off from any form of aid. The Council should not stand by and watch a repetition of such events in eastern Ghouta.Secondly, concerning the erosion of international humanitarian law, in witnessing the sheer disregard for human life, we must ask ourselves: What has become of the hard-won gains in the area of international humanitarian law? The lack of compliance with the Geneva Conventions by parties to the Syrian conflict erodes the very norms enshrined therein. It also erodes the rules-based international order. We cannot let that happen. The carnage in Syria must stop. The Council must take effective, credible and decisive action today. The world is watching. We call upon all parties to the Syrian conflict, in particular the Syrian regime and its allies, to stop the targeting of civilians, stop the attacks on hospitals and facilitate immediate access for humanitarian organizations to deliver much needed aid.That brings me to my third point, which is action by the Council on the cessation of hostilities. We thank penholders Kuwait and Sweden for negotiating a draft resolution during the past two weeks that addresses the dire situation in Syria. We pay tribute to the prudent, inclusive manner in which Sweden and Kuwait have organized negotiations on the draft resolution. We wholeheartedly support the Swedish-Kuwaiti appeal to support their text.The draft resolution includes clear and implementable measures. We fully support an immediate cessation of hostilities in Syria to enable aid convoys to deliver food and medicines to all those in need, and the safe medical evacuation of the critically ill and wounded. That must happen as soon as possible. Parties to the Syrian conflict and those with influence on them have a heavy responsibility to assure the safety of humanitarian operations and to ensure that no forced evacuations of civilians take place.In conclusion, some Council members say that the draft resolution cannot be implemented because it is not realistic. But with sufficient political will on the part of the parties involved in Syria, the cessation of hostilities can become a most urgently needed reality. The Council showed forceful action when it adopted resolution 2393 (2017) in December 2017 to alleviate the suffering in Syria by allowing for vital cross-border humanitarian aid. Let us again show forceful action. Let us prove to the world that we can agree to put the safety of civilians first, throughout Syria.The human suffering in Syria, in particular in Ghouta, must end. We need a cessation of hostilities now. We call on the Russian Federation in particular to use its influence, do its utmost to achieve that objective and allow the Council to act effectively. Let us adopt the realistic, clear and balanced draft resolution as it stands, end the violence and allow access for humanitarian assistance.Mr. Alemu (Ethiopia): We thank Under-Secretary-General Mark Lowcock for his briefing. We appreciate his efforts and understand the challenges he faces.We are deeply concerned about the military escalation in eastern Ghouta and its devastating impact on civilians. We are also equally concerned about escalating conflict in other parts of Syria. The continued reports of attacks against medical facilities, resulting in a number of civilian deaths and injuries, is indeed extremely worrying. We stress that it is absolutely imperative to protect civilians in eastern Ghouta and other affected areas.Nonetheless, we should never overlook the fact that the capital, Damascus, is being shelled from eastern Ghouta — one of its suburbs. All the same, it is impossible to deny the fact that life-saving aid must reach all Syrians in need of urgent assistance. In that regard, while we welcome the fact that the United Nations inter-agency convoy delivered life-saving assistance to more than 7,000 persons on 14 February, we acknowledge that, given the severity of the humanitarian situation, it is obviously not enough.To address humanitarian needs, the United Nations and its humanitarian partners should be allowed safe, improved and unhindered humanitarian access. As the Secretary-General recalled in his statement on 20 February and through his strong appeal yesterday in the Chamber (see S/PV.8185), a cessation of hostilities is desirable to enable humanitarian aid deliveries and medical evacuation. We see no problem with reaching a consensus on the matter. In that connection, members of the Council have been engaged in constructive discussions on how to ensure the implementation of a cessation of hostilities.As the situation on the ground becomes increasingly complex, we understand that implementing a humanitarian pause will not be easy. We understand S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 12/19 18-04815 the concerns of some in that regard. We do not ignore the possibility that terrorist elements might exploit that tool to advance their goals. It will require the political will and tangible cooperation, in good faith, of all Syrian actors, as well as of all States with influence over the parties. Let us not forget that the situation in Syria is becoming extremely complicated and that the humanitarian situation has not remained unaffected. We are extremely worried about the current trajectory.As a human tragedy unfolds before our very eyes, it is expected that the Council will take meaningful, collective action that could help save lives on the ground. That is why we have reiterated that the Council should extend its unified support for the humanitarian work of the United Nations and its partners. Only by working together will the Council convey a strong and unified message that could help facilitate the much-needed humanitarian work of the United Nations and alleviate the continued suffering of the Syrians. In that regard, the humanitarian draft resolution will perhaps provide us with a good opportunity to demonstrate our resolve for concrete action. It may not be a perfect text but we believe it paves the way for all parties to coordinate their existing efforts to halt hostilities for the sake of civilians who are in an extremely difficult situation.Let me take this opportunity to thank the two penholders Kuwait and Sweden, which have been working tirelessly to achieve a consensus outcome. We hope they will continue their much-appreciated efforts until the last minute to address the concerns — real, legitimate concerns — of all delegations.Let me conclude by reiterating that the escalating violence in eastern Ghouta and other parts of Syria should reinforce the importance and urgency of finding a comprehensive political solution, without which the suffering of Syrians will continue unabated.Ms. Wronecka (Poland): I would like to thank Mr. Mark Lowcock for his briefing.As our Minister for Foreign Affairs, Mr. Jacek Czaputowicz, stated yesterday with regard to eastern Ghouta, there is no justification for the indiscriminate attacks on innocent civilians, including children, or on civilian infrastructure, such as health facilities. They must stop immediately and all parties to the conflict must strictly comply with their obligations under international humanitarian law. We would like to stress that all actors should use their influence to bring about immediate and improved conditions on the ground.Once again, we urgently call for the cessation of hostilities in the whole of Syria. Attacks against civilian targets, including medical facilities, must stop now in order to relieve the enormous and unreasonable suffering of the Syrian people. We therefore call upon all parties to alleviate the suffering of civilians, including children, by granting them urgent, free and safe access to humanitarian assistance.With regard to the de-escalation zones, which include eastern Ghouta, I should recall that they were aimed at ensuring a ceasefire and humanitarian access in accordance with international law, including international humanitarian law. In the light of this fact, I call on all parties engaged to respect their ceasefire-related commitments. I also call on States members of the Security Council to use their leverage on the parties in order to implement relevant previous commitments and to create conditions for a permanent ceasefire.In conclusion, I would like to stress the importance of maintaining the unity of the Council on the question of humanitarian access. We should find a mutually acceptable way to express a clear position of the Security Council in this regard. Accordingly, Poland would like to reiterate its support for the work of Sweden and Kuwait as penholders of the draft humanitarian resolution for Syria. Now more than ever do we need to make every possible effort to adopt the draft resolution as soon as possible. It is the Council's responsibility not to fail to stop the ongoing humanitarian tragedy in the eastern Ghouta.Mr. Hickey (United Kingdom): I thank Under-Secretary-General Lowcock for his very detailed and clear briefing today. It was very powerful to hear through him the voices of the people of eastern Ghouta.Russia called this meeting today to allow us to present our understanding of the situation on the ground and come up with ways of getting out of the situation. We have heard very clearly from Under-Secretary-General Lowcock today and from the Secretary-General yesterday about the situation on the ground (see S/PV.8185). This is hell on Earth; the scale of the human suffering and destruction is unbearable. The suffering of the Syrian people, while primarily the responsibility of the Syrian regime, brings shame on all of us in the Security Council.Let us be very clear about the main cause of this hell on Earth. It is the direct result of an escalation by 22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 13/19 the Syrian regime of its aerial bombardment of civilian areas, using cluster bombs and chemical weapons and systematically killing hundreds of its own civilians. As others in this Chamber have said today, these are breaches of international humanitarian law and are war crimes. The United Kingdom will be unrelenting in its campaign to ensure accountability and justice for these crimes using all mechanisms at our disposal.We owe it to the people of eastern Ghouta to highlight the utter devastation facing them and then to take measures to stop it. According to the Syrian American Medical Society, in the first 48 hours of this week, 250 civilians were killed and 460 injured. Those who survived these attacks have been further targeted by the regime while trying to get help for their injuries. There have been 22 separate attacks on 20 different hospitals in the three days since Monday. We applaud the incredible work of the brave doctors on the ground who risk their own lives to save others. And like the Netherlands, we salute the heroes of the White Helmets who have demonstrated incredible bravery, courage and resilience to save the lives of thousands of Syrians on all sides of this conflict.From the start of the conflict, the Al-Assad regime has peddled the myth that all of those opposing Al-Assad are terrorists. This is manifestly not the case. The people of eastern Ghouta are not terrorists. Jabhat Al-Nusra has only a small presence in eastern Ghouta; its fighters number less than a quarter of 1 per cent of the population of that area. Nothing can justify the barbaric bombardment we have seen in recent days or the blocking of humanitarian aid or the denial of medical evacuations. We also condemn the mortar shelling from eastern Ghouta of civilian areas of Damascus and attacks against the Russian embassy in that city.The Security Council has failed to uphold its responsibilities in Syria. We all know why this is the case, but we have all agreed that there can be no military solution to the conflict — only a political one. The actions of the Al-Assad regime in recent weeks and the military escalation in an area guaranteed by Russia and Iran as a de-escalation zone show cynical disregard by the regime for every member of the Security Council and for our resolutions. It is therefore vital that we all send a clear and unified message in response.The solution to the situation is not difficult. We need to see an immediate cessation of hostilities, including an immediate end to the aerial bombing of eastern Ghouta. If everyone in this Chamber were to commit unequivocally to this today, it could have an impact on the ground. It could save the lives of thousands of innocent men, women and children who are being killed as we speak here in this Chamber today. We therefore welcome the draft resolution put forward into blue by you, Mr. President, and by the delegation of Sweden, and we look forward to a vote later today.In conclusion, yesterday we discussed the principles of the United Nations Charter, which our predecessors drafted in the name of the peoples of the world to help save succeeding generations from the scourge of war (see S/PV.8185). It is clear that we have fallen woefully short of this aim. We have failed the people of eastern Ghouta. But let us reverse this trend today. Let us adopt the draft resolution and take the concrete actions needed to ease the suffering in this zone of death and destruction.Mr. Ndong Mba (Equatorial Guinea) (spoke in Spanish): Equatorial Guinea thanks the Russian Federation for convening this meeting of the Security Council and hopes to contribute to the adoption of a decision aimed at alleviating the enormous suffering and regrettable loss of human life in eastern Ghouta and other parts of Syria. We thank the representative of the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, Mr. Mark Lowcock, for his informative briefing.For the Republic of Equatorial Guinea, the changing humanitarian situation in eastern Ghouta requires urgent action to alleviate the critical state of affairs of the most vulnerable members of the civilian population. In recent days, the number of victims and amount of material damage to infrastructure have increased considerably, and the international community is obliged to take some urgent action so as to halt the ongoing loss of lives, mostly of children and women.We reiterate the appeal made by the delegation of Equatorial Guinea on 14 February for the parties to the conflict to allow humanitarian aid to reach those most in need (see S/PV. 8181). The cessation of hostilities is imperative in order to ensure safe access for relief teams, the distribution of humanitarian aid and the evacuation of the wounded and sick. Equatorial Guinea calls on all parties to the conflict to take the necessary steps to cease hostilities.S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 14/19 18-04815 Frank, direct and inclusive dialogue is the only viable way out of the Syrian crisis. The Council must redouble its efforts and persuade the opponents to return to the negotiating table. In that sense, resolution 2254 (2015) remains a valid instrument. The recent history of this conflict has taught us the devastating implications that it can have for the entire region. A definitive and sustainable solution to the conflict is in the interests of all the countries of the world.The Republic of Equatorial Guinea urgently calls on all parties to the conflict, be they directly or indirectly involved, to declare a ceasefire with immediate effect that will be respected and guaranteed by all parties so as to allow for the evacuation of civilians and the delivery of medical care, drinking water and food that will save hundreds of human lives. Even as we debate this issue here in the Chamber, the people of eastern Ghouta and elsewhere in Syria are on the verge of perishing. We must consider any proposal to be submitted from the humanitarian perspective, taking into account the suffering of the population of eastern Ghouta and Syria.Mr. Llorentty Solíz (Plurinational State of Bolivia) (spoke in Spanish): My delegation thanks the delegation of Russia for having asked the presidency to convene this meeting, for I think it very important to exchange views about what is happening in Syria. We also grateful for the briefing by Mr. Mark Locock.Bolivia reiterates its regret that the crisis in Syria has to date led to so many lives being lost and so much destruction. According to Mr. Lowcock's office, more than 500,000 people have died since the beginning of the conflict, 13.1 million people require humanitarian assistance, of whom 2.9 million are trapped in besieged or hard-to-reach, and 6.9 million persons have been displaced internally. We regret that recent events have led to more people dying or needing humanitarian assistance. We call for the earliest possible beginning of demining operations and for the provision of humanitarian assistance — such as to the city of Raqqa — in order to facilitate the safe and dignified return of the families that were displaced as a result of the conflict.We also regret that the latest events in Syria have once again served to underscore the urgent need to revitalize the Geneva political process, while strengthening the tangible results achieved in Astana and Sochi, in consultation, of course, with all the parties concerned. We reiterate what several of our colleagues have said during this meeting: there is no military solution to the situation in Syria, only a political one.We also again reiterate our great gratitude for the work being done by the staff of the humanitarian assistance agencies and groups on the ground. We demand that the parties involved comply with their obligations under international law, in particular international humanitarian law and international human rights law.We reiterate to the parties involved that they must respect the agreements and the de-escalation zones, as well as avoid attacks on civilian facilities — such residential areas, schools and hospitals — in line with international humanitarian law, so as to ensure the protection of civilians and unrestricted access for humanitarian agencies to provide much-needed assistance.I understand that we all agree with those principles, as they are basic, fundamental principles of international humanitarian law. Each and every one of us has spoken repeatedly about the obligations of the Security Council under the Charter of the United Nations, including its highest responsibility in terms of the maintenance of international peace and security. Nevertheless, my delegation cannot agree with double standards being applied on any issue, and much less on humanitarian ones. We must not drag down the Security Council by using it as an instrument for a different agenda. Nor, as we have also said several times, should we allow the Council to become an echo chamber where we repeatedly recite well-known areas of war.In referring to double standards, I will desist from referring to the humanitarian situation in other places around the world. I will limit myself just to Syria. My delegation is surprised, and does not understand, at how the Security Council has not even been able to express itself on the terrorist attacks on the Russian Embassy in Damascus, a member the Council. We have counted six such attacks in the past two weeks, followed by silence on the part of the Council. That should draw our attention as to double standards.I repeat that we totally reject the politicization of any humanitarian issue. We know that the situation in Syria is urgent. We need to think very carefully about how we can address each of these situations, given that each has its particular characteristics.22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 15/19 With regard to the draft resolution that has been circulated for the Council's consideration, first of all, my delegation would like to sincerely express its gratitude for the efforts of the delegations of Sweden and Kuwait. We have seen them work with great dedication, consulting with the various delegations as part of what of course is a complicated process. That is the nature of negotiations. We hope that the various calls for the Council to do something will come to fruition. . However, I think we have to recognize that putting to a vote a draft resolution, as several delegations have called for today, in the knowledge that it will not be adopted by the Council shows that the goal is not of a humanitarian nature, the aim is political. Putting to a vote a draft resolution while knowing that it will not be adopted means that the goal is not to alleviate the humanitarian situation but to garner a few headlines in the media. That is why we say that we should avoid making the Council an instrument for political ends.We very much welcome the fact that the Russian delegation has put forward language to enable us to continue the negotiations, which is essential. I agree with what my colleague the Ambassador of Sweden said, that is, the Council is being tested in alleviating the humanitarian situation in Syria. The Council is indeed being tested, and that test is to achieve unity in the Council. If we do not, then the meeting at which the draft resolution is put to the vote will go down in history as just a few headlines. But it will come to nothing and will in no way alleviate the humanitarian situation in Syria.I therefore issue a fraternal call on my colleagues the members of the Security Council — especially my beloved brothers the Ambassadors of Sweden and Kuwait — that we do everything we can to send out a signal for there to be a change in direction with regard to what the Council has been doing repeatedly over the past months, and show that by being united we will in some way be able to meet the expectations of the rest of the membership and meet the responsibilities assigned to us by the Charter.Mr. Tanoh-Boutchoue (Côte d'Ivoire) (spoke in French): At the outset, I wish to thank the Russian Federation for having called for this meeting.I also thank Mr. Mark Lowcock, Under-Secretary-General for Humanitarian Affairs, for his helpful briefing on the latest developments in the humanitarian situation in Syria, which has reached a critical threshold.Côte d'Ivoire remains deeply concerned by the ongoing deterioration of the humanitarian situation, largely due to the resurgence of fighting on the ground, particularly in eastern Ghouta where since Monday, I regret to say, 40 civilians have been killed and more than 150 wounded, and many hospitals and schools have been destroyed. In the face of this extreme escalation of hostilities, my delegation would like, following the call issued yesterday in this Chamber by Secretary-General António Guterres (see S/PV.8185), to appeal to the sense of responsibility of the parties involved to end the tragedy of eastern Ghouta. It urges them to exercise restraint with a view to an immediate cessation of hostilities in order to enable the resumption of the delivery of humanitarian aid, including medical evacuations, to alleviate the suffering of the Syrian population.Côte d'Ivoire reiterates its conviction and principled position that the response to the crisis in Syria cannot be military. On the contrary, it should be pursued through an inclusive dialogue and political process, as provided for in the road map set out by resolution 2254 (2015).Finally, in the light of the tragic humanitarian situation in eastern Ghouta — which Mr. Lowcock so somberly described earlier — Côte d'Ivoire supports the draft resolution proposed by the delegations of Kuwait and Sweden, calling for a cessation of hostilities for a period of 30 days with a view to allowing immediate humanitarian access to the besieged populations of the region. The Council must set aside all political calculations and other distractions and undertake the commendable task of rescuing the inhabitants of eastern Ghouta and other regions of Syria, who also happen to be Syrians, from the hell in which they are living.Mr. Temenov (Kazakhstan): We thank the delegation of the Russian Federation for initiating this open briefing on the very critical humanitarian issue in Syria, and thank Mark Lowcock for his update.Like others, we express our serious concern about the continued severity of the devastating humanitarian situation in Syria, including in eastern Ghouta, Idlib and northern Hama governorates, Rukban and Raqqa. Kazakhstan urges all parties within and outside the country to prevent further violence and enable humanitarian organizations to access and assist people in need. Since early February, with the military offensive against eastern Ghouta, there have been more than 1,200 civilian casualties.S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 16/19 18-04815 We truly need a cessation of hostilities and all military operations throughout Syria to enable the delivery of humanitarian aid and services and the medical evacuation of the critically sick and wounded, in accordance with international law. Kazakhstan considers it critical for the Security Council to adopt a workable and effective resolution on a cessation of hostilities in Syria, a draft of which is now being considered by Council members. Kazakhstan calls on all parties to find consensus and unite in their efforts to undertake an immediate suspension of all war activities in eastern Ghouta and other parts of Syria, allowing humanitarian aid to reach all those in need, as well as the evacuation of all patients requiring urgent treatment that cannot be provided there.My delegation supports the five requests identified by the Emergency Relief Coordinator on 11 January during his mission to Syria, and calls upon all parties to facilitate the implementation of these five requests and others, as specified in relevant Security Council resolutions, so as to ensure principled, sustained and improved humanitarian assistance to Syria in 2018. In this context, we look forward to a meeting of the Foreign Ministers of the guarantor countries of the Astana process — namely, the Russian Federation, Turkey and Iran — who intend to gather in Astana in March to discuss all issues related to recent developments on the ground. The timing and the specific agenda are currently being specified. In this regard, the next round of the Astana process itself is scheduled to be held after the aforementioned meeting of the Foreign Ministers.Lastly, in May 2017 Kazakhstan welcomed the adoption of the memorandum on the creation of de-escalation areas in the Syrian Arab Republic. They have lessened hostilities between the conflicting parties. However, the ceasefire agreements in these zones are currently being violated. We attach the utmost importance to compliance by all conflicting parties with ceasefire agreements and their enforcement by the guarantor States. Likewise, each of the agreements reached in Astana should not remain on paper, but must be strictly complied with.The President (spoke in Arabic): I give the floor to the representative of the Syrian Arab Republic and urge him to limit his statement to five minutes in accordance with Security Council note S/2017/507.Mr. Ja'afari (Syrian Arab Republic) (spoke in Arabic): The delegation of my country was not aware of your decision, Sir, to limit my statement to five minutes. I oppose that decision and therefore reserve the right to express the views of my country in this important meeting devoted to the situation in my country.The President (spoke in Arabic): The representative of the Russian Federation has asked to make a further statement.Mr. Nebenzia (Russian Federation) (spoke in Russian): We fail to understand, Sir, why you have proposed limiting the statement of the representative of the Syrian Arab Republic on the important issue under discussion. His country is directly involved and where everything being discussed is taking place. We must afford an opportunity for the representative of Syria to speak for the full amount of time required to deliver his statement. I do not believe we need any artificial limits on his statement.The President (spoke in Arabic): I did not make a decision. I simply encouraged the representative of Syria to adhere to the provisions of note S/2017/507.I again give the floor to the representative of the Syrian Arab Republic.Mr. Ja'afari (Syrian Arab Republic) (spoke in Arabic): Once again, I reiterate that we were not aware of note S/2017/507. I believe that this act is unjust and raises many issues to which I already intended to refer in my statement. I hope that everyone will be patient enough to listen to the statement I shall make on behalf of the Government of my country. I shall not deliver a personal statement. All speakers have spoken on behalf of their Governments, and I shall do the same. I encourage all members to listen carefully to what I have to say.As I talk here at this moment, hundreds of rockets and mortars are targeting the capital, Damascus. To date, they have injured 37 people, including six children, and led to a number of martyrs, including two children. That comes as no surprise. As the Council is aware, every time a Security Council meeting is held to discuss the Syrian situation, there is a massacre here and a suicide bombing there, as well as the killing of civilians in some Syrian cities. We have seen not dozens, but rather hundreds of massacres over the past seven years. Mr. Lowcock did not get this information the way he gets messages from what he calls humanitarian workers in eastern Ghouta who know about international humanitarian law. Mr. Lowcock 22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 17/19 did not solicit the views of the Syrian Government, which we have expressed in hundreds of letters sent to him and to the Council. All those who in this meeting have used the word "regime" to refer to my country are neither objective nor impartial. They reveal their countries' involvement in the ongoing terrorist crisis in my country.We thank the delegation of the Russian Federation for convening this meeting to give us the opportunity to once again present the reality of the suffering of civilians as a result of the practices of armed terrorist groups or, as some call them, moderate armed opposition groups. Over the past seven years, they have been sowing death and destruction wherever they have operated. They have used civilians as human shields. They have targeted hospitals and schools, turning them into military centres. They have hurled missiles and rockets indiscriminately at residential and populated areas.Of course, as the Permanent Representative of France said before leaving this meeting, all of this is a form of resistance. He referred to the terrorists who bombard Damascus as the "resistance" that the Syrian regime is trying to suppress. This meeting is particularly important, as some actors — especially the United States of America and the so-called international coalition — have moved from the stage of aggression by proxy through their support for terrorism to the stage of direct aggression. Those actors have recruited terrorists from all four corners of the world. They call them jihadists and send them to Syria. Whenever terrorists have failed, those actors have been there — militarily, politically, through the media and the United Nations — to intervene in order to achieve what their terrorist proxies failed to achieve.Let us be clear. Some Council members — and I specifically mean the United States of America, the United Kingdom and France — would like to deprive the Syrian Government of its constitutional and sovereign right to defending its territories and people, as enshrined in the Charter of the United Nations back when we had wise founding fathers and international law and as guaranteed by all United Nations resolutions on counter-terrorism.Today, I have heard references to the draft resolution contained in document S/2018/146, on humanitarian issues. The penholders, Kuwait and Sweden, have been working on it for several weeks. I thank them for their efforts. However, those efforts are deeply flawed. The penholders did not coordinate with the Syrian delegation at all. They did not even ask to hear my country's view on the draft resolution that concerns it.Let us imagine for a moment that hundreds of terrorists had used the Bois de Boulogne as a centre to target civilians in Paris, launching dozens of missiles every day. Would we have seen a draft resolution calling for a humanitarian truce to give the moderate armed French opposition the opportunity to regain its power and launch missiles targeting Paris?Let us imagine for a moment that hundreds of terrorists had used Central Park here in New York as a centre to target civilians in Manhattan, and had launched dozens of missiles every day. Would we have seen a draft resolution calling for the medical evacuation of the moderate armed American opposition?Let us imagine for a moment that hundreds of terrorists had used Hyde Park as a centre to target civilians in London, launching dozens of missiles daily. Would we have seen a draft resolution calling for the delivery of humanitarian aid to the moderate armed British opposition? Would we have seen statements by high-level Secretariat officials, such as Mr. Lowcock, calling for stopping the fight against armed groups that they describe as non-State armed opposition groups? Unfortunately, that is how United Nations documents refer to terrorists nowadays — non-State armed opposition groups.Of course, those are all hypothetical scenarios that might seem far-fetched. However, that is the reality in Syria. It is the tragedy that we are seeing in Syrian cities every day, including the city of Damascus and its inhabitants. It is a bitter reality that the Syrian Government is facing as a result of the erroneous approaches adopted by the United Nations and the positions of some of its Member States. Damascus is the oldest populated city in history. It is seeing destruction, death and sorrow every day as a result of missiles, mortars and rockets launched by armed terrorist groups operating in eastern Ghouta. These terrorist groups — the Islamic State in Iraq and the Sham, the Al-Nusra Front and affiliated groups — are designated as terrorist groups in the Security Council. Today, 8 million people live in Damascus, among them hundreds of thousands who fled armed groups that attacked their villages and their homes in many parts of Syria, including eastern Ghouta.S/PV.8186 The situation in the Middle East 22/02/2018 18/19 18-04815 The United Nations today is going through a professional and moral crisis that is unfathomable. High-level Secretariat officials see no harm in adopting the positions of Governments that sponsor terrorism in my country. They are directly involved in distorting facts, manipulating figures, using insidious phrases and terminology, and depending on unreliable sources in their statements and reports. Of course, I cannot list all of those scandals today. I will only remind the Council of the Organization for the Prohibition of Chemical Weapons Fact-Finding Mission report (S/2017/567), issued in June 2017. The report states that among the open sources on which it relied was the testimony of British doctor Shajul Islam. For those who do not know who Mr. Islam is, he is a foreign terrorist fighting for the Al-Nusra Front in Idlib. He was convicted in the United Kingdom and was not allowed to practice medicine there as he was involved in crimes related to terrorism, such as kidnapping British journalist John Cantlie. That is but one example of some misleading reports issued by the Secretariat.We are convinced that those abhorrent practices will not stop and that some United Nations officials will ignore the serious information that we have conveyed to them about armed terrorist groups fabricating the story that the Syrian Government used toxic chemical substances against civilians in eastern Ghouta. Those groups are training some of their members to pretend that they have been exposed to toxic substances. Of course, those scenes are broadcast by well-known networks and correspondents of Mr. Lowcock, and the Syrian Arab Army is blamed for it. Although we have sent hundreds of letters to the Secretary-General, the President of the Security Council and specialized United Nations agencies specialized in counter-terrorism and the prohibition of chemical weapons, we are sure that some at the United Nations will not hesitate to believe that story and blame the Syrian Government. That is simply because certain agendas in the Organization compel some to join in the extortion of the Syrian Arab Republic and its allies that are fighting terrorism on behalf of all those present.For over two months now, the Syrian Government has been sending letters almost daily to the Secretary-General and the President of the Security Council documenting the number of missiles used, which have amounted in the past few weeks to almost 1,200. We have been also documenting the human and material losses of civilians in the city of Damascus as a result of being targeted by terrorists groups in eastern Ghouta. However, in its statements and appeals the Secretariat has no problem ignoring the suffering of 8 million people in Damascus. It has not hesitated to participate in the misleading campaign launched by some States to protect a few thousand members of armed terrorists groups in eastern Ghouta. They are sacrificing 8 million civilians in Damascus to protect a few thousand terrorists in eastern Ghouta. This is scene in short.Both international and United Nations sources are spreading news of a stifling siege on eastern Ghouta. That is not consistent with the indisputable reality on the ground. We are talking here about a vital area that is the main source of food for the city of Damascus. Commercial trucks constantly move back and forth to Ghouta. The Syrian Government has facilitated the delivery of humanitarian aid to people in eastern Ghouta, when conditions on the ground have allowed. We have also approved medical evacuations to Government hospitals in Damascus. The truth that we all know, and even high-level Secretariat officials know, is that armed terrorist groups are controlling the humanitarian aid that enters eastern Ghouta. They distribute it among its members and deprive civilians of any of it.There is another truth that the Secretariat is ignoring. Residents of eastern Ghouta have taken to the street in protest against the practices of terrorists who point their guns at innocent people. Of course, those besieged innocents are also sending messages, but Mr. Lowcock's radar is not receiving them. I would like to ask the Secretariat the following. How does it justify ignoring the reports and information that the Syrian Government has presented on thousands of hostages and kidnapped people being detained by armed terrorist groups in eastern Ghouta in the so-called Attawba prison? They require immediate medical evacuation. The United Nations is ignoring video footage posted by armed groups showing women and children, among the hostages, being pushed into metal cages and left on the street. It is a painful scene reminiscent of the times of slavery. It is true insanity that the Secretary-General spoke of yesterday and has been echoed by some colleagues today. Yes, there is terrorist insanity in eastern Ghouta and we must put a stop to it.What is even worse is that some in the Secretariat are trying to use the agreement on de-escalation zones to distort the facts and ignore repeated violations perpetrated by these armed terrorist groups. They are 22/02/2018 The situation in the Middle East S/PV.8186 18-04815 19/19 being instructed from the outside by actors that some of them are present in this Chamber. They are instructed to target Syrian military sites and launch attacks using rockets, missiles and car bombs on residential neighbourhoods in Damascus.These groups operating in eastern Ghouta that kill civilians in Damascus daily are armed terrorists groups, regardless of any change to their names, affiliations or alliances. Today they are Jaysh al-Islam, the Al-Rahman Corps, the Dawn of Islam and Ahrar al-Sham. Yesterday they were the Islamic Front, Hay'at Tahrir al-Sham and the Al-Nusra Front. I invite all members of the Council to take a look at the websites of those groups and the satellite television channels that Western satellites are helping broadcast. It will become apparent that they all share the same Wahhabi terrorist ideology, and that they all call for takfiri ideas and the annihilation of others. Any attempt to change their names and description by calling them moderate opposition or non-state armed groups will not change their terrorist reality. It will not prevent us, as the Government, from defending our citizens with the support of our allies, and fighting terrorism pursuant to the Council's resolutions on counter-terrorism.Some among us today are exploiting the suffering of the Syrian people and trading in their blood. They are demanding accountability while being direct partners in supporting and defending terrorism. They are involved in direct military aggression against my people, as was the case in Palestine, Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya, Africa and Latin America. The dilemma that we are facing today is that the mechanism of work inside the United Nations is being held hostage to political and financial polarization. As a result, this mechanism of work completely disregard the crimes of the so-called international coalition led by the United States of America.As mentioned by my colleague the Ambassador of the Russian Federation, the international coalition completely destroyed Raqqa, killing hundreds of civilians and destroying shelters, infrastructure and bridges over the Euphrates river and everywhere in Syria, under the pretext of fighting the Islamic State in Iraq and the Levant (ISIL). It used internationally prohibited weapons against civilians in Syria, including American Napalm, just as it did in Viet Nam. The international coalition targeted Syrian armed forces and allied forces more than once in order to break the siege on ISIL. The coalition and its militias made a deal with ISIL so that ISIL fighters, their families and their heavy weapons could leave Raqqa and other places in order to fight the Syrian forces and their allies elsewhere.The United Nations is completely disregarding the repeated aggressions of Israeli occupation forces on our territories as part of its support to armed terrorist groups. The Department of Peacekeeping Operations is clueless as to what is going on in the Golan. The United Nations itself is completely disregarding Turkish aggressions and violations against Syrian sovereignty, and the direct military aggression initiated now by Turkey on Afrin. Nobody has addressed this issue in their statements.In conclusion, responding to those who fear that eastern Ghouta might become a second Aleppo, I invite them to go to Aleppo today and see with their own eyes how millions, not thousands, have resumed their normal lives after Aleppo was liberated from terrorism. Indeed, eastern Ghouta will become a second Aleppo, as will Idlib and all areas that have suffered under the terrorism of armed groups in Syria.We will not succumb no longer to the extortion of those who have supported terrorism in Syria. We will not be complacent to the plans of the Governments of the five States that met in Washington, D.C., last month to divide Syria and ensure the failure of both the Sochi conference and the political process as a whole. That news was reported today in the United Kingdom. We will not sit idly by while those who use terrorism, take unjust economic measures and wage direct military aggression against the Syrian people seek to achieve their cheap political agendas. Rest assured that history will soon admit that we and our allies have fought a war on behalf of the entire world against terrorism, which is being supported by Governments that soon will be held accountable by their people and world public opinion. Those Governments have invested all they can in terrorism until it reached their cities, their own citizens and all safe places throughout the world.When I look at some of the faces in the Chamber and see the political hypocrisy therein, I recall the famous adage by the Great Russian writer Fyodor Dostoyevsky, who said: "Rest assured, hell is big enough for everyone. There is no need for people to compete so fiercely to be the worst."The meeting rose at 2.10 p.m.

Issue 24.3 of the Review for Religious, 1965. ; Counseling and Religious Life by Vincent S. Conigliaro, M.D. 337 Mortification by William J. Rewak, S.J. 363 Mary and the Protestant Mind by Elsie Gibson 383 The Mass and Religious Life by Jean Galot, S.J. 399 Devotion to the Sacred Heart by Anton Morgenroth, C.S.Sp. 418 Priest as Mediator ~ by Andrew Weigert, S.J. 429 Religious Life by Sister Elaine Marie, S.L. 436 Election: Choice of Faith .by Carl F. Starkloff, S.J. 444 Our Old Testament Fathers by John Navone, S.J. 455 Poems 461 Survey of Roman Documents 463 Views, News, Previews 467 Questiom and Auswers 473 Book Reviews 478 VINCENT S. CONIGLIARO, M.D. Counseling and Other Psychological Aspects of Religious Counseling,* a technique and a philosophy of treat-ment and human relatedness, is a topic of importance to both psychoanalysts and religious persons, both in a general and in a specific context: in a general context, because both psychoanalysts and religious persons work with human beings and are committed to a profession of service; and in a specific context, because religious sisters may be affected by mental problems as often as other individuals. Thus, in reflecting on counseling in the religious life one cannot help reflecting also on the problems making counseling necessary, the problems, in other words, about which one administers counseling; and on the factors behind these problems, that is, why these problems occur in the first place. Members of religious orders have been the victims of diverse, benevolent and malevolent, prejudices for cen-turies. One problem with prejudice is that sooner or later its victim comes to believe the prejudice himself and begins to think, feel, and act along the prejudiced stereotypes culture and/or society set up for him; this is why prejudice is always detrimental. As an example, one may think of just one of the many prejudices that have been formulated against the American negro: the prejudice whereby the negro is "good-natured," "basi-cally lazy," "clownish," a. jocular Amos or Andy. Even- # This paper was derived from a talk given by the writer on No-vember 9, 1964, at the Maryknoll Mother House; Ossining, New York; the paper was sent to the REvmw in December, 1964. 4- Vincent Conigli-aro, M.D., a prac-tising psychoana-lyst and member of the faculty of Ford-ham University, ihas offices at 104 East 40th Street; New York 17, New York. VOLUME 24, 1965 337 + ÷ ÷ Vincent $. Conigliaro, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 338 tually, some negroes began to believe the stereotype themselves and behaved as if they could only be an ineffectual nice-guy Amos or a scheming, shrewd Andy-- or the other way around--I could never tell the two apart. Among the many prejudices formed about Catholic religious orders, there is one that proclaims that "mem-bers of Catholic religious orders are, by the very fact of being that, singularly immune from mental disorders"; or the opposite one, announcing that "members of Catholic religious orders are, by the very fact of being that, singularly prone to become mentally sick." Both prejudices of course are just that, pre-judgments, based on little factual evidence and substantiated by super-ficial experimentations. The facts actually suggest that (a) members of Catholic religious orders do not become mentally ill significantly more often or significantly less often than members of other religious orders; when they do become ill more often, this relates more to circumstantial problems (that is, poor screening of applicants) than to essential fea-tures of religious life; (b) members of religious orders do not become mentally ill significantly more often or less often than members of other tightly organized, rigidly structured organizations, for instance the Army; (c) neither the essential nor the accidental characteristics of religious life make, per se, a significant difference in the incidence of mental disease among the members of Catholic religious orders; (d) the occasional severity in degree of mental illness encountered among members of Catholic religious orders is not related to the essential or accidental characteristics of religious life, but to socio-cultural characteristics at large (for instance the socio-cultural concept that "to have a mental illness is dis-graceful"; treatment, thus, is sought too late, when the illness has been given the time to become severe); and (e) that the intrinsic and extrinsic features of religious life will be, psychologically, an asset or a liability ac-cording to the way each individual reacts to them in terms of life history, heredity, and childhood experi-ences. It may be of interest to examine both prejudices more closely. The first view holds that Catholic religious life is the best guarantee against emotional upsets and claims that members of Catholic religious orders rarely become affected by mental disease. This view is mostly held by members of religious orders; it was frequently expressed to me by the superiors of sisters I have treated or by the priest-counselors I have trained and supervised. The basis of this prejudice is wishful thinking and con-fusion between the natural and supernatural aspects of religious life. This view equates the symptoms of mental illness with the illness itself: ."There are no visible signs of illness; ergo, there is no illness . " I am reminded of an article recently published in a religious journal implying that religious life may actually "cure" neurotic symptoms. The writer of the article first listed some of the traits that may be symptomatic of a neurotic per-sonality, that is, self-centeredness, hypersensitivity, im-maturity; then observed, rightly enough, that religious life is essentially antithetical to such traits: and then concluded that religious life will thus automatically dis-pose of these neurotic traits: religious life, being theo-centered, will dispose of self-centeredness; being giving-hess, will dispose of selfishness; requiring spiritual ma-turity, will dispose of immaturity. One rather suspects that all theocenteredness, givingness, and spiritual ma-turity will do is to veil, temporarily, those neurotic traits they were supposed to have cured. This prejudice, actually, is quite unfair to the re-ligious sister. It suggests that the supernatural aspects of the sister's vocation will sustain not only her soul, which it does, but also her mind, even when natural causes, going all the way back to her childhood, act as a constant irritant; it holds that since she is isolated from the anxieties of the "real world outside," she should have no anxieties from the convent world (which happens to be equally real); and that since she is surrounded by the silence of the cloister, she will not hear the loud clatter of human problems: as if silence, at times, could not be many times louder than the loudest noise. This prejudice also engenders unrealistic attitudes; the religious sister feels supernaturally protected against the frailties of the human mind, and is led to believe that, by sheer virtue of the spiritual direction of her life, whatever factors there were that started operating, years before, toward the development of a psychosis or a neurosis will magically cease to operate. When she ex-periences signs of a mental illness, she feels disillusioned and as if God Himself did not live up to His part in a bargain He had never made; and she feels like a freakish rarity, the only one cursed by an illness that was not supposed to occur, the exception to the rule, thus adding to the anxiety and anguish of a neurosis the painful feeling of being an oddity. In a sister I treated, the latter feeling constituted a very intense symptom that, while mainly determined by a complicated intrapsychic proc-ess, was supported by the prejudiced belief that "reli-gious sisters are not supposed to become mentally ill . " This prejudice creates a problem also in treatment: the sister may be unwilling to unveil her problem to a superior who could take remedial steps; or, once treat- 4- 4- 4- Counseling VOLUME 24, 1965 339 ÷ + ÷ Vincent S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 340 ment has started, may be little cooperative and may rationalize her resistance to change by believing that "she can only get better through prayer . " In a case I recently worked with, it was the patient's superior who felt sister should not receive psychotherapy and should only help herself with prayers: "Good sisters do not be-come mentally ill . " On the other side of the coin is the prejudice holding, equally erroneously, that members of Catholic religious orders become mentally ill significantly more often than other persons. This view is mostly held by persons who are not in the religious life, are not Catholics, and, fre-quently, not religious. I believe this prejudice is mainly based on hostility; or on a lack of understanding of what is entailed in the religious life. The danger of this view is that already unbalanced members of religious orders lead a life of trepidation based on the neurotic fear that they will become overtly mentally ill (psychotic, "insane") because "everyone says so . " Here, too, this fear is overdetermined and related to an unconscious intra-psychic process; here, too, however, these patients "latch on" to the prejudice to express unconscious needs. In a priest I treated, the idea that he was going to become insane---because everyone he knew believed that "all priests, sooner or later, become insane"--had become a true obsessional idea; it expressed, among other things, his unconscious desire "to become insane" (more exactly, his unconscious drive to lose all controls and inhibitions) and his need to impute the responsibility of his insanity to those who believed that "all priests, sooner or later, become insane . " At the basis of this prejudice is also the fact that the religious life does have features which, in borderline personalities, may tip the balance in the direction of mental illness. A better understanding of these features will help to understand how religious life may contribute to t,he development of a mental illness. I want to make sure that I am well understood on this point. I am not suggesting that religious life may be the cause of mental disorders; I am saying that some features of religious life, when operating on a personality that has been af-fected by specific childhood occurrences, may precipitate, or "trigger," mental illness. This "trigger effect," evi-dently, may be set up just as effectively by college life, army life, marriage, as it can by religious life: once the keg is filled with dynamite, the explosion may be set up just as well by a spark of electricity, a match, or a gradual increase in room temperature. Which features of religious life act as a trigger on what kind of personality-- this is what may be quite important to reflect on. One might start by reflecting on the spiritual essence of religious life. Considering that this journal is widely read among members of religious orders, there is a bit of "carrying coals to Newcastle" in reflecting on this sub-ject at all. It must be remembered, however, that the specialist, knowledgeable as he is on the most minute detail of his specialty, often misses what may be too basic for him to remember. Basic psychiatric and psy-choanalytic concepts have been pointed out to me by friends who were neither psychiatrists nor psychoanalysts; and I myself have been able to point out basic points on music or art to musicians or artist friends of mine. As a lay person, as a "non-specialist" on religious life, I understand religious life as a life of greater growth in greater union with God~ All of us are born with the potentials for greater and greater participation to a transcendental existence in God; but those in the reli-gious life have the greatest chance of achieving the greatest participation. This spiritual participation, how-ever, can only be realized if the personality is sound; and a healthy supernatural life cannot exist without a sound, well-integrated psychic life. The old Latin saying mens sana in corpore sano can indeed be complemented with religio, sana in mente sana. It must be realized that the accidental properties of religious life may appeal to different personalities for different reasons. Just as one may become a psychiatrist or a surgeon for a combination of healthy, unhealthy, conscious, and unconscious reasons--and a good psy-chiatrist is usually one who, finally, is in his profession more for healthy and conscious reasons than for un-healthy and unconscious ones--it is also possible to enter the religious life with a combination of healthy, un-healthy, conscious, and unconscious motivations. Un-balanced personalities, the individuals with the "keg of dynamite" beneath the placid exterior, may enter the religious life attracted not by its spiritual features but by what these persons unconsciously consider useful for their neurotic needs. When the latent neurotic individual has been attracted to the religious life, religious life will indeed have the "trigger effect" mentioned before. Some examples at this point may be helpful. Religious life, through its essence, offers, to the healthy, opportunities for spiritual and existential richness and for the fullest expression of one's personality; to the unhealthy, opportunities for an impoverished, restricted existence (again spiritually and existentially) and for the fullest expression of one's neuroses. Such features of religious life as the vows of chastity, obedience, and poverty, may attract the latent neurotic personality not 4- 4- 4. Counseling VOLUME 24, 1965 ÷ 4. + Vincen£ $. Conigllaro, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS because of their essential spirituality but because of the opportunities they offer for neurotic defenses and neu-rotic acting-out. The healthy religious sister has a greater chance of experiencing the transcendental union with God, not in spite of, but because of her vows; the unhealthy sister uses the vows to express instinctual drives and neurotic defenses. In the latent neurotic, the vow of chastity may be appealing for reasons having little to do with spir-ituality, that is, emotional frigidity, fear of love, fear of sex, homosexual tendencies. The all-female environment may be chosen not in order to be chaste to better serve God but because of fear of closeness to anyone. This sister will be fearful of any and all emotional involve-ments, will stand aloof, and will withdraw from every-one, God included. Similar situations have been found with regard to the vow of obedience. As it was once ex-plained to me by a sister student of mine, this vow is "a listening to the will of God as it is expressed through one's community, environment and, ultimately, supe-rior"; a "dialogue in charity," with the superior as the "master listener" fashioning the dialogue between the sisters and God and evaluating what has been heard as the will of God. The sister who enters the convent with healthy motivations can afford to be obedient: she can see God's will beyond the superior's will; the sister with unresolved authority problems cannot be obedient with-out hostility (and the superior affected by the same problem will tend to abuse her authority and provoke rightful resentments). In the obsessive-compulsive per-sonality, which, under a meekly submissive and ingra-tiatingly passive surface, much anger and rebelliousness are concealed, vows of obedience will have a strong neu-rotic appeal to begin with (unconscious wishes to placate authority~ neurotic resolutions of total passivity and total submission) and will trigger, later, serious conflicts. Sister may role-play complete obedience and submission to the point of making no contributions whatsoever to the community life; she may be passive and overdependent; have no intiative; obey automatically, making no repre-sentations even when representations are called for; and create a mockery of authority and a caricature of obedi-ence by indulging in what has been called "whole obedi-ence" as contrasted to "holy obedience." The vow of poverty, too, essentially beautiful (with no material possessions one can better pursue the knowl-edge of God) may be appealing not for spiritual.reasons but because of unconscious feelings about money, love, and possessions. A sister may enter the religious life because of insecurity and the semi-conscious realization that although in the convent she may not have personal possessions, her basic needs will be adequately met. A sister I treated equated having money and possessions with having evidence of being loved. She created a prob-lem in the community by hoarding things, demanding expensive clothes and privileges, requiring costly medical treatments (and feeling intensely guilty when her demands were acceded to). When she did initiate psy-chiatric treatment, the matter of payments was a monthly crisis. She reacted to the fact that the com-munity was disbursing funds for her health not with realistic gratitude--or realistic concern--but with intense guilt (at the fact that a neurotic fantasy about which she had much ambivalence was being satisfied). If the neurotic needs of the religious are actually met by some of the accidental features of religious life, why, then, is there a conflict? I[ a sister with neurotic feelings about authority enters the religious life to find a better disguise--or a better expression--for these feelings and, in some o~ the accidental features of religious life does meet this opportunity, then, again, why is there a con-flict? One way to understand this is by realizing that human drives are arranged by "polarities": we love and hate, like and dislike, are active and passive, assertive and sub-missive, dependent and independent. In the healthy personality these polar extremes are harmoniously inte-grated and blended in the overall economy of personality, and there is no conflict. In the neurotic personality each polarity, as it were, is treated separately by the executive agency of personality, the ego; and each holds separately and simultaneously prospects of security and insecurity, pleasure and pain. Thus, by being overdependent, one is taken care of, but one's needs for prestige and successful competition are frustrated; and by being over-assertive one fulfills one's needs ~or power and status, but one's need to be loved, cuddled, mothered are frustrated. As an example, a sister with unresolved authority problems enters the convent to placate her superego by total sub-missiveness; this will fulfill the polarity of dependency, passivity, submission; but the opposite polarity, which energizes rebelliousness and independence, will have to be vigorously repressed and will remain frustrated. This will result in a worsening of the authority problem; symptomatologically, there will be dissatisfaction (frustra-tion of one polarity); chronic fatigue (because of the need to divert psychic energy to the task of repressing the polarities of rebelliousness and independence); periodic explosions (during which the polarities energizing sub-mission and passivity are frustrated); feelings of guilt; and so forth . One is reminded of what is found in the neurotic marriage, in which the partners marry one + ÷ ÷ 343 4. Vincent S. Conigllaro, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 344 another because each offers the other the opportunity for the disguise and the release of unconscious drives. The man with latent homosexual problems marries a frigid, cold woman; the outwardly efficient, "strong" male (the type who exaggerates the outward signs of masculinity because of deep seated feelings of inadequacy) marries a woman who under a calm and restrained exterior is assertive and domineering; a woman with unconscious sexual anxieties marries an impotent male; and so forth . In these cases too, the neurotic bargain is fulfilled and the unconscious expectations which have led to the marriage in the first place are being satisfied: this is why the marriage fails or is beset by severe incompati-bility. I am reminded of a patient in my recent experience, a bright and attractive woman with severely disturbed ideas on sex and much anxiety and guilt about any type of sexual involvement; these feelings were unconsciously rationalized by the conception that sex is "always degrad-ing" and "inherently dirty." She did not marry until the age of thirty-two: the healthy, eligible males who had appeared on the scene up to that time had not been "attractive" enough to her neurotic expectations. She finally met the "right" man: an extremely puritanic, neurotically judgmental individual who consciously visu-alized sex as dirty and degrading; he would subtly "seduce" her into giving in to rather innocent exchanges of affection and would then reject her by sternly lecturing her on the basic depravity of all women. After sixteen months of formal engagement, she married him primarily because she had found in him the external counterpart of her own rigid, punitive superego. It can be easily antic-ipated that this couple's marriage was extremely un-satisfactory. They found each other unbearable; he felt she was shamelessly passionate and "se.xy"; she felt he was sadistically judgmental and critical; and they both acted as though neither had had any idea (in sixteen months of engagementl) of what the other was "really like." The neurotic polarities of each of these individuals were being fulfilled through the neurotic marriage at the expense of intense anxiety, rage, and guilt. In the latent neurotic personality, religious life may trigger neurotic symptoms through some of its accidental features. While the essence of religious life is immutable, its accidental elements, the ways this essence expresses itself, are necessarily mutable and in a state of constant transition and adjustment to changing socio-cultural conditions. The transition itself may be disturbing to the rigid, obsessive personality. A sister I once treated could have functioned satisfactorily only if the Church had gone back to medieval times. A priest once told a colleague of mine, with much anxiety and bitterness: "They are changing my Church, Doctor; they are chang-ing my Church" (in reference to the Ecumenical Council). Some sisters' neurotic structure is such that they only accept meditation and contemplation, to the total exclu-sion of action; and they do this more for neurotic than spiritual reasons. It is also important to realize that religious orders are a world of their own, a society with its own culture (some religious orders even call themselves "societies"). The fact that there are to be rules is inherent in any society; but the religious societies are particularly bound by rules (the etymology of the Word "religious" is "rule-bound"). Some religious societies are very rigidly set up; there may be a rigid ordering of time (the "horarium," the setting down of every hour and activity of one's day from rising to retiring) or a rigid ordering of authority, community rank, behavior (the book of cus-toms). This system of rules may indeed appeal to a rigid personality or to persons with problems about routines, schedules, and time tables. These persons, again, will be attracted not by the spirit behind the rules but by the rules themselves, the scheduling for its own sake, the opportunities thus offered for neurotic defenses or neu-rotic acting out. Religious life indeed may, with its essential or transi-tional features, trigger neurotic symptoms in the latent neurotic personality. It may seem that this point is being belabored. Yet, in reading the religious journals read by most sisters, one finds cause for concern over the explana-tions prevalently given as to the causes o~ mental dis-orders among the religious. While the situation has im-proved considerably in the last fifteen years, there still prevails a lack of awareness of what really should be remedied; and why; and how. Often, we still bark up the wrong tree or beg the issue or believe that sister is neu-rotic simply because she has a difficult superior or because her order is a very rigid one, completely overlooking the fact that most probably these sisters had a neurotic prob-lem to begin with and the environment to which they are now overreacting has only brought the neurotic con-flict to light. I am reminded of a question asked by a group of sisters (and recently published in a religious journal) on the subject of the measures suggested by the Church to reduce tensions among the religious. The answer, as given by a well known and justly respected priest, gives cause to ponder; it suggests that, while the Church has recognized the importance of childhood in the causation of mental disorders, and, at least by implication, the importance of counseling and psychotherapy--these factors (childhood) ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling VOLUME 24, 1965 345 ÷ ÷ ÷ Vincent S. Conigliaro, M~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 346 and these measures (counseling and psychotherapy) are, too often, seen as the least important. According to the above source, among the remedies suggested by the Church are, mainly, such remedies as avoidance of a disordered and restless life, a minimum of calm and peace, avoidance of overwork, enactment of the rule of silence (thus the availability of cloisters), vacations and weekly days off, and so forth . All these measures, I suggest, are far from meaningless; but also far from sufficient. All these measures are important; without them there will be anxiety and tension, but there will be anxieties and tensions in spite of them. A restless and disordered life most often is not a cause of mental illness but a symptom, just as the ability to live a joyful and pleasurable life is a manifestation of good mental health, not a cause. I remember a sister I once treated for a severe compulsive character neurosis, with symptoms of depression, scrupulosity, perfectionism, and chronic fatigue. She had been told (innumerable times) to take some days off and have a good vacation; for at least two years her rigid, grandiose, self-punitive personality had prevented her from doing so: there was too much to do and no one could do it as well as she. Sister was not tense because of overwork: she was tense and overworked because of a deeper common cause. When she was finally ordered to take a vacation and have fun, she worked strenuously and grimly at having fun with no benefit whatsoever from either vacation or recreation. Committed Catholics and psychoanalysts will grow equally concerned over the fact that we still too often believe that emotional illness among the religious is caused by such spiritual reasons as spiritual frustration or the feeling of not having attained the vocational ideal of apostolic sanctity. Spiritual frustrations, again, are more often symptoms than causes of mental illness; and to relate them to incomplete spiritual formation, poor spiritual training, and so forth, is often inaccurate. The psychotic sister will not feel better mentally by leading a better spiritual life; she will lead a better spiritual life when she feels better mentally. The sister with an authority problem will not become more obedient solely by forcing herself to become more obedient; and the sister obsessed with impure thoughts will not be able to solve her problem only with prayer. All this does not question the supernatural power of prayer; it simply questions whether the neurotic or psychotic sister can truly pray, or, better, how receptive one is to grace while in a state of severe neurosis or psychosis. The point, at any rate, is that if these sisters were able to be spiritually obedient, religiously fulfilled, prayerful, and so forth, they would not have these mental problems to begin with. Thus it is often a mistake, for a spiritual director or superior, to simply demand of the neurotic sister to pray more, implying that if she does, this will resolve all problems. When sister finds herself unable to do so, she will feel guilty and become more anxious and depressed; or an emotional problem which could have been cleared in a relatively short time (had counseling or psycho-therapy been administered immediately) is treated psy-chiatrically after months of attempts at treating it by supernatural means, and it may be too late. Evidently, the total answer to the mental problems of the religious does not lie only in counseling and psycho-therapy; but the latter should play a larger role than it played up to five or ten years ago and even larger than the role played now, a time in which the Catholic Church has already made so many strides in pastoral counseling,x The mental problem of the religious, I believe, can only be approached through a holistic concept in which supe-riors, sisters, social workers or psychologists, spiritual directors, pastoral counselors, and psychotherapists make available to the disturbed sister all available means to 1 The history and development of the Iona Institute of Pastoral Counseling well exemplifies these strides and the Church's positive attitudes on mental health. In 1959, Dr. Alfred Joyce, a New York psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, offered his services for a program of talks and seminars on pastoral counseling at the St. Francis of Assisi Church and Monastery in New York City. The Franciscan Provincial, Father Celsus Wheeler, O.F.M., and a Franciscan psychologist, Father George Fianagan, O.F.M., Ph.D., supported the program enthusiasti-cally and the following year Dr. Joyce, this writer, Dr. L. Moreault, Mr. F. Peropat and Dr. J. Vaccaro, under the leadership of Dr. Joyce, founded the St. Francis Institute for Pastora! Counseling, a pioneer-ing institute offering a two-year curriculum on the theory and practice of pastoral counseling. With greater and greater support be-ing received from the New York Archdiocese and Francis Cardinal Spellman, and through the dynamic encouragement of Monsignor George Kelley, Director of the Family Life Bureau of the New York Archdiocese, in 1962 the five founders of the St. Francis Institute transferred to Iona College (New Rochelle, New York) and associ-ated themselves to Brother John Egan, Chairman of the Department of Psychology of the College, to form the Iona Institute for Pastoral Counseling, the only institute of its kind in the Eastern United States. Since 1962 the institute, under the leadership of Dr. Joyce, has offered to larger and larger groups of Catholic priests (total enrollment for 1964-1965 was just under one hundred students) a unique, com-prehensive, three-year curriculum of courses and clinical supervision leading to a Master's Degree in Pastoral Counseling. The Institute's program is designed to develop in its students greater awareness of the psychological dimensions of the problems encountered in pas-toral activity; to foster understanding of the conscious and uncon-scious processes operating in a counseling relationship; and, in general, to increase the effectiveness of the Catholic priest's pastoral work. The Institute's program, therefore, is quite consistent with recent directives of the Holy See, that is, directives which have emphasized the need for the development and refinement of the special competencies required for the pastoral ministry in the twentieth century. + + Counseling VOLUME 24, 1965 ÷ ÷ Fin~en~ $. Conigliaro~ M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS help herself, including prayer and spiritual self-improve-ment but also including counseling and psychological self-improvement. In a truly holistic approach one would also include preventative concepts and work toward the improvement of the existing screening procedures for the applicants to the religious life, the improvement and modernization of training programs for the religious, and the inclusion in these training programs of psychological considerations (mental hygiene concepts of education, group dynamics of training, and so forth). The latter, I believe, can be done very successfully without com-promising in the least the spiritual and religious con-siderations of training. One can think of counseling and the religious sister in many different ways. One may think of counseling admin-istered by a sister who has been trained in the theory and technique of counseling and who gives counseling to the sisters in her own house; the sister counselor may be the superior or another sister. One may think of counsel-ing administered by a trained sister who practices counseling as part of her own missionary, teaching, nurs-ing, or social work, in which case the counselee may be another sister or a lay person, male or female, adult, adolescent, or child. One may think of counseling in terms of "diagnostic counseling," "motivational counseling" and "therapeutic counseling." Finally, one may think of counseling as a philosophy of life, an existential commit-ment, a philosophy of deeper understanding of human psychology and human motivations, by which the trained sister becomes, in the house where she lives or at her place of work, a very valuable trouble shooter and "sig-nificant figure." One may think in terms of the superior of a house who has had enough training in counseling or psychology to do counseling with the sisters of her own house as soon as a problem arises and before it becomes too serious. This may be a "diagnostic counseling," in which the superior, after two, three, or four interviews, is able to recognize the "danger signals" of mental illness, can differentiate them from the symptoms of a strictly reli-gious or moral problem, and is therefore in the position of advising remedial steps. It may be a "motivational counseling," in which the superior has a number of sessions with the disturbed sister for the purpose of help-ing the sister to recognize the psychogenic nature of the difficulty and preparing her for therapeutic counseling or psychotherapy. It may finally be "therapeutic counseling" in which the superior, by using the technique of counsel-ing, helps the sister to help herself. I am convinced that it is administratively unfeasible for the superior of a community to do counseling with her own sisters; and, it administratively feasible, I am still convinced it would not be advisable therapeutically be-cause of the very nature o[ the superior's status in the community: the fact that she is, by virtue and necessity, identified with "authority" and because of the psycho-dynamic dimensions of being the "mother" superior. Better, then, for another sister to be the "house-counselor"; even in this case, however, it will be helpful it the superior is sympathetic to, and understanding of, the philosophy and the techniques of counseling; it will avoid friction between superior and house counselor and the unbalancing of the group dynamics of a religious community. Incidentally, should there be a "house counselor"? Should counseling be at all administered in the house, within the community, b~ an "insider"? I am convinced there are important advantages to doing so-- at least initially. This is in keeping with modem mental hygiene concepts, that is, the concept of "emotional first aid stations." Industrial psychiatrists have found that optimal results were often obtained by treating situa-tionally triggered emotional crises "on the job." In research on this subject I published a few years ago, I felt that the system of having a full time mental hygiene team on the premises is very advantageous. By having a house counselor, emotional emergencies can be handled on a truly emergency basis; situational and reactive crises can be approached more insightfully and with more perma-nent results. To conduct diagnostic and motivational counseling within the community appears advantageous also from a practical and financial standpoint. Finally, disturbed sisters may flatly refuse to see an outsider (especially lay) counselor or psychotherapist or may co-operate with the outsider only superficially. The presence of a house counselor on the premises and the fact that counseling is being practiced within the house may indeed have a disturbing effect on the group dynamics of a community, at least in some houses. This, however, is more an indication for, than against, the presence of a house counselor. If the community group dynamics can be unbalanced by her presence, then there already are neurotic processes operating under the sur-face. The processes would be triggered anyway by other "irritants"; they might as well be triggered by the house counselor, who can understand and treat group anxieties and individual anxieties. Some of the problems that may be triggered by the house counselor are: anxiety about the sister who is undergoing counseling ("There, but for the grace of God, go I"); resentments about the time she spends with the counselor or the superior (a form of sibling rivalry); anger (and envy) at the apparent fact that she is given ÷ Counseling VOLUME 24~ 1965 ÷ ÷ ÷ Vincent S. Conigliaro, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 350 special privileges and dispensations (a sister I once treated said about another sister also in treatment: "They are letting her get away with murder . "); and so forth. Some of these problems might perhaps be prevented by utilizing a house counselor from a different house. A Maryknoll superior I recently spoke with suggested that two trained sisters from the same order but from two dit~erent houses could be exchanged between the two houses and be "on call." Parenthetically, I do not believe that one needs to be alarmed at the thought of a nonmedical sister counselor practicing "diagnostic" counseling. Although the formal diagnosis of any dis-order, whether "physical" or "mental," remains within the province of the medical doctor (psychiatrist or medical psychoanalyst), a well trained counselor is quali-fied to evaluate the severity of a mental disorder, formu-late hypotheses as to its course and prognosis, and differ-entiate it from solely moral or religious problems. What one should fear, rather, are the "snap diagnoses" made by untrained individuals in any walk of life: in the case of the religious sister, the diagnosis, "spiritual problem," with the prescription, "prayer, three times a day," for a problem that is mainly emotional in nature and needs counseling (or psychotherapy) as well. I referred above to the "understanding superior." I wonder how many sisters, troubled emotionally and mentally, did not feel, at some point, that it was-"all mother superior's fault., if she only had more under-standing . " I also wonder how many superiors, whose sisters were in the throes of a severe mental problem, did not feel, at some point: ". It's all my fault., if I had only had more understanding . " (I also wonder if some psychiatrists, in treating sisters with emotional problems, have not at times felt that it was ". all mother superior's fault., if she had only had more understanding . "). I believe there is something significant here and worth-while looking into. At times, undoubtedly, the superior is largely respon-sible for a sister's emotional problem as a "trigger factor," as precipitating element. More often, however, the superior is blamed because of the need for scapegoats, be-cause of the psychological tendency to explain difficulties in simple black and white, "good guy, bad guy" terms, and, finally, because of a specific psychological function called "transference." The truth of the matter is that to blame it all on the superior is incorrect; and if it is incorrect, it is also unfair: unfair to the sister, who likes to believe that changing houses will solve all her problems (she will go through one, two transfers to realize, after several cycles of heightened hope and frustrating letdown, that nothing has really changed in her mental status); and unfair to the superior, who will unrealistically blame her-self for her sisters' emotional problems and use this self-condemnation as a nucleus for her own neurosis. The interpersonal relationship of sister--superior is necessarily a very complex one; here, too, we find that in both its essential and accidental characteristics it offers opportunities for spiritual and psychological enrichment to the healthy and for neurotic expressions to the neu-rotic. The superior has full and unquestioned authority, because she represents, supernaturally, the will of God; the healthy sister willfully chooses to submit and defer because she can see the transcendental aspects of her submission and deference; the neurotic sister or superior sees, rather, a symbolic relationship between an omnipo-tent mother-figure and an infantile daughter-figure. Once the relationship has been unconsciously visualized in these symbolic terms, the development of "transferential" reactions is highly likely, because the relationship is already a "transferential" one. "Transference," I believe, explains why the disturbed sister is too ready to put all the blame on the superior or why the superior is ready to put all the blame on herself (or, in opposite cases, on her "insubordinate daughters"). It also explains why everything the superior does, the rewards she administers, the punishments she metes out, the assignments she makes, the time she take to reply to the sisters' mail, even her very traits of personality, become, at times, a matter of life or death for some sisters. ~Vhat is "transference?" Transference is an unrealistic emotional posture which supposedly occurs only in psy-choanalytic psychotherapy but which also develops, in varying degrees of unreality, in other intimate emotional relationships (husband and wife, soldier and N.C.O. on the battle line, pastor and priest, superior and sister, and so forth). In transference, one feels about a contemporary figure not the feelings it deserves because of what this figure realistically is, but the feelings one felt about significant figures from one's childhood, whom the con-temporary figure symbolically represents. In transference, the patient sees his analyst not as what he is but as he saw his own father and/or mother; and feels about his analyst the quality and quantity of feelings appropriate not to the analyst but to his own father and/or mother. Similarly, in transference the sister sees the superior not as the superior objectively is, but as she saw, as a child, her own parents; and her feelings about the superior are not proportionately related to what the superior, objectively, is, does, stands for, but to the feelings the sister had, as a child, about her parents. Transference motivates behavior as well as feelings and thoughts; in transference, the sister will behave, toward 4- 4- 4- ÷ ÷ + Vincent S. Coniglia~o, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the superior, not realistically but "transferentially," not as sister-to-superior but as daughter-to-mother. Transfer-ence is "remembering through actions and feelings." In psychoanalytic psychotherapy, the development of transference is facilitated by some of the essential and accidental features of the treatment itself and may be fostered by the therapist (a skillful therapist encourages the appropriate quantity and quality of transference and uses it for his patient's benefit). The accidental features of religious life will also encourage transferential relationships and painful, neurotic transferential reac-tions. But, again, not per se, but in direct proportion to the mental health of superior and sister. Such features as the fact that sisters are referred to as "daughters" and superiors are addressed as "mothers". the psycho-logica. 1 message that may be contained in the very word "superior". the reality of the superior's unquestioned authority over the sisters., the vow of obedience., and other accidental features of religious life will not by themselves "infantil-ize" the sister or "mother-ize" the superior; but the sisters will be infantilized (and the superior motherized) who, from the depth of their un-conscious and latent neuroses, had already looked go these features as opportunities for the release of latent neurotic drives. The very fact that there are so many obedient, submissive, and deferent religious sisters who are, at the same time, joyful, vibrant, productive creatures, with attractive, vital, and no less feminine personalities is a living admonishment against believing that the poten-tially infantilizing (to the neurotic) features of religious life must necessarily (that is, also in the healthy) cause transferential relationships and reactions. Whether the superior is a trained counselor or not and whether her qualities of "understanding" will be rightly perceived by sisters wearing or not wearing transference-colored glasses, there can be little doubt that the "understanding" superior will contribute to the pre-vention of emotional crises in her community. Too often one thinks of an understanding superior as someone who smiles, agrees, and gets emotionally involved with her sisters or who is gentle and unassertive and goes around giving realistic or unrealistic reassurances or who shows total approval of whatever neurotic behavior is exhibited on the part of her sisters. This actually is more the stereotype for a neurotic superior than for an under-standing one. I remember a priest counselor whom I once supervised. He was counseling a hostile, resentful, rebellious adoles-cent whose father was rigidly authoritarian and coldly punitive. The counselee acted out his hostility in the counseling situation itself by being.consistently late for his sessions or breaking appointments without previously canceling them. The counselor was extremely "under-standing," remarked about the patient's lateness only casually and gave him a full-session time by cutting into his own rest periods, feebly joked about the cancelations and, to his own great inconvenience, rescheduled make-up appointments, and made sure not to appear in the least annoyed at his patient's erratic behavior. The counselor's conscious rationale for his "understanding" was: "I want him to see that there are understanding people in this world . 1 don't want him to think that everybody is as bad as his father . " In reality his "understanding" covered his own neurotic feelings about hostility and assertion; he neurotically equated justifiable annoyance (at having his schedule continuously disrupted) with irrational rage and rigidly controlled the former to avoid the risk of expressing the latter. Another counselor I supervised managed to convey to his patient his tacit approval of the patient's practically delinquent behavior; in this case the "understanding" dis-guised the counselor's own neurotic rebelliousness and hostility against authority. The giving of unrealistic reassurances (also often seen as a sign of "understanding") may actually be a symptom of neurosis. I remember the case of a sister with a paranoid char-acter neurosis, very intelligent but extremely disagreeable because of her mistrusting, hostile personality. Sister believed the other sisters disliked and resented her be-cause of her scholastic accomplishments; and her superior usually reacted to these complaints by "reassuringly" telling her that when one is very bright one may be resented by those who are less bright, and telling her not to worry, the other sisters really liked her. The con-scious rationale of this "understanding" was: "Sister is too sick to be told that the other sisters do dislike her. and for her arrogance and imperiousness, rather than for her brilliance . " In reality, this "understanding" covered the superior's unconscious fear of the paranoid sister and only resulted in the consolidation and strengthening of sister's hostility and disagreeableness. Real understanding--whether in the knowledgeable superior or in the trained counselor--basically cor-responds to the ability to understand human psychology and, especially, the complexity of human motivations. This understanding, which the counselor obtains from training, the superior can only derive through her own studies, readings, and observation, since in the great majority of cases we are not born endowed with it. "Intui-tive understanding," "horse sense," the "knack of under-standing people," are either an altogether di~erent quality of understanding (the superficial understanding of ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling VOLUME 24, 1965 353 ÷ ÷ ÷ Vincent S. Coniglidro, M.D. REV|EW FOR RELIG|OUS few, superficial situations) or the major ingredient of often catastrophic "snap diagnoses" (the simplified con-clusions on "what really bothers" our fellow human beings). If this is fully realized, the superior who has little understanding should not blame her constitution, heredity, luck, or intelligence~in most cases she only needs to study, read, and observe. I am not implying that every superior should go to medical school and eventually specialize in psychiatry. I am suggesting, however, that any investment she will make in courses and lectures on human psychology will pay huge dividends in terms of house morale, a smoothly growing community, and her own peace of mind. Actually, it is a wonder that so many superiors, in spite of very little training in human psy-chology, do such a creditable job as leaders of a com-munity. Industry or government would not expect such a performance from untrained leaders of theirs who were to operate under conditions as difficult as most superiors (unisexual environment, closeness of quarters, the ever present possibility of transferential developments and transferential reactions; and so forth). If real understanding is to work--for the house as a whole, for the sisters, and for the superior herself---it must be mature and loving. It must be loving, or there will r~ot be the concern, care, interest motivating one human being to want to understand another (or, at least, to want to apply this u. nderstanding for healing purposes); and it must be mature, or it may be a neurotically motivated understanding in ~which the superior distorts the sister's demands because of unconscious needs to do so or understands these demands rightly but out of proportion to the total picture and more for her own needs than sister's. The positive features and attributes of real understand-ing can best be discussed in reference to counseling and religious counselors. Some of these features will be of great interest also to the superior: the superior who, without being a counselor or without intending to be-come one, wants to achieve, through her own efforts, personal interest, and dedication, real understanding of her sisters. This superior, however, would not be fair to herself if she expected to attain the quality of under-standing of the trained counselor just by following "a few simple rules," listening to the house counselors' "talk-ing shop," or reading a few articles, like this, at best just glossing over a few aspects of counseling theory. Both in real life and in the understanding of human psy-chology, there are no short cuts; and there are no instant substitutes for the understanding that can be derived only from years of studies, readings, and observation. The trained counselor attains a specialized quality of understanding of human psychology. A house counselor, through the time and effort invested in a comprehensive curriculum on theory and technique of counseling, can recognize, diagnose (in the connotation given before), and prognostically evaluate the signs and symptoms of healthy and unhealthy mental functioning. She can determine which patients are an indication for therapeutic counsel-ing and which patients, an indication for motivational counseling, should be referred to a psychotherapist, psy-chiatrist, or psychoanalyst. With the patients with whom she practices therapeutic counseling she knows, after evaluating the patient,s ego strength, environmental conditions within which the patient functions, and the overall circumstances surrounding the counseling rela-tionship, what techniques of counseling to follow and for how long. The counselor knows that human behavior and the symptoms of emotional disturbances are always over-determined (related to multiple causes and factors) and that the more disturbed is behavior, the more distressing a symptom, the more critical a crisis, the less likely it is that just one or two factors are responsible. Consequently, she will not "jump to conclusions," oversimplify, dispense quick, superficial "diagnoses" ("What really bothers you, Sister, is this and that"). She also knows that presenting symptoms and initial complaints are often a disguise for more distressing and intimate problems. Thus she waits beyond the first few sessions before concluding that sister has told her the "whole story" or even the "real story." She knows the inherently devious and implicitly mimetic nature of defense mechanisms; within herself, therefore, in the process of privately evaluating and understanding her counselee's problems, she will not take "no" (or "yes") for an answer, will not accept every-thing at its face value, will try to read between the lines of the counselee's manifest verbalization, will obtain clues from nonverbal communication, and will, in fewer words, constantly try to understand the dynamic motiva-tions, the "why," the "latent,'.' of her counselee's com-munication. (The really understanding superior may well try to remember this. Sister may come to see her to discuss problem "A"; whether sister knows it or not, she may actually be in the superior's office to discuss problems "B" or "C." The patient, knowledgeable, and, especially, un-hurried superior, will help sister to come to the real problem by prolonging the first interview, by non-direc-tive prodding--"is anything else on your mind, Sister?" is much better than "Is this (or that) what is really on your mind, Sisterl" and, especially, by asking sister to come in again "to talk more about problem A or any-thing else that might be on your mind, Sister . ") 4- 4- 4- Counseling + ÷ Vineent S. Conlgliaro, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 356 The counselor knows that even truly distressing symp-toms may only be a first line of defense the personality uses against even more distressing problems and con-flicts. The counselee of a priest I supervised was literally torn apart by persistent masturbatory behavior con-sistently accompanied by vivid heterosexual fantasies; yet this behavior was only a cover-up for very frighten-ing, still unconscious, homosexual problems. A sister I treated was painfully convinced (and so was her superior) that she had a severe sexual problem as she was mainly obsessed with obscene fantasies and per-secuted by sexual compulsions; after several months (and a dream in which she discovered a knife hidden by stacks of pornographic literature) it became apparent that she was using obscene fantasies also to punish herself for unconscious fantasies of a sadistic nature against the superior (and her mother). Thus the counselor knows better than to prematurely remove symptoms or defenses, lest the problems so disguised come to the fore, thus causing disintegration of the whole personality and psychosis. The counselor knows that the best way to counsel is, often, by the "non-directive, minimal activity" technique. Within this technique the counselor, after having ascertained (with a minimum of activity and direction) the quality and severity of the counselee's problem, assumes an "actively passive" posture. She patiently listens; benevolently and calmly waits out pauses of silence; asks few or no questions; stimulates the counselee's continuity of communication by nonverbal means (nodding, assenting, saying "Uhm-uhm") or, verbally, by repeating the counselee's terminal sentence; echoes and reflects back, in simpler, clearer, more concise phraseology the counselee's utterances, and so forth. With the mildest counseling problems this approach is therapeutic in itself and is both means and end. The counselor becomes the counselee's oral vehicle; and the counselee, just by listening to the counselor's clearer re-formulations of the problem, can see solutions or the roads towards them. With most counseling problems this approach is very valuable as a means to an end, as it provides the counselor with material through which she will be able to help the sister to help herself. (A little tip for the superior: "true" listening, with minimal ac-tivity and direction, will cause the "true" problem to shape itself in its clearest outlines under her very eyes.) An important point, made just in passing before, is the one to the effect that light attempts at premature removal of symptoms can be catastrophic. Freud spoke of "wild psychoanalysis"; in a sense, one can talk of "wild counseling." In "wild counseling," the counselor tells the patient what to do; advises; judges; prescribes courses of action; removes symptoms or eliminates defenses; prods too actively, eliciting too much too soon, all this without knowing enough of his counselee's personality structure and whether the patient can safely ~ollow the prescription or in ignorance of the adaptive and defensive meaning of normal and abnormal be-havior. One of the most important discoveries of psychoanalysis was that psychic disorders have a meaning and represent partly successful attempts at defensive adaptation. Even the most distressing symptoms are a partly successful defense---without the distressing symptom of hysterical mutism, the hysteric would be hced with the more distressing problem of wishing to verbalize highly ex-ceptionable sexual desires; without the embarrassing symptom of "trigger-finger paralysis" (a hysteric condition of soldiers on the battle line), the patient would be ~aced with the more serious problem of wanting to press the trigger of a rifle aimed at his own sergeant; without the torturing symptom of persecutory thinking, the schizophrenic would be faced with the much more painful problem of having homosexual desires. The dis-comfort of hysterical mutism, trigger-finger paralysis, and persecutory ideation are a psychic bargain compared with the discomfort the psychic apparatus would experi-ence were it to face, in raw state, the sexual desires, the murderous aggression, and the homosexuality that mutism, paralysis, and persecutory delusions stand for. Thus, if we remove one line of defense, a more drastic defense will be set up and, with it, a more severe mental illness. I remember the patient who came to the emer-gency room of a city hospital in a wheelchair because of hysterical paralysis of both her legs. A brash and eager young psychiatric interne decided he would omnipotently remove the paralysis by hypnotic suggestion. The patient did walk out of the hospital on her own legs; once home, however, she became severely depressed and attempted suicide. The hysterical paralysis was, to her personality structure, an indispensable prop; deprived of that prop prematurely (that is, without any preliminary work on her ego), her personality could only cave in; the process could only be arrested by the setting up of more primitive defenses (more drastic "props"), for instance, the defense of depression. Counseling can be powerful medicine. Words and advice are to the counselor what scalpel and clamps are to the surgeon. Wrong counsel and ill-timed advice can have disastrous effects. I remember a patient "counseled" into borderline psychosis by her own G.P. A twenty-eight year old girl, beautiful and quite feminine, she had never been 4- ~,ounseling VOLUME 357 ÷ 4. ÷ Vincent $. Conigliaro, M~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS engaged, married, or romantically involved, She had consulted her physician because of ill-defined heart and stomach symptoms, fatigue, sleeplessness, and choking sensations; the physician correctly diagnosed hysteria. In discussing her social life, he was struck by the fact that she never went out with men; he took the explanations she gave (shyness, moral reasons) about her sexual isola-tion at their face value and proceeded to persuade her into going out. After several sessions of "counseling" she reluctantly agreed to go out on a date. Shortly after the first date (and having given in to a very minor physical exchange of affection) she became depressed and with-drawn. Again, the physician accepted the explanations she gave for her depression (moral guilt) at their face value and counseled her to be "more broadminded." She became more depressed and withdrawn and eventually attempted suicide. Several weeks after she had finally en-tered psychotherapy, it was found that at the ages of five and nine she had been sexually molested by a psycho-pathic father. Unconsciously, she had come to associate adult sexuality with the incestuous sexuality experienced at five and nine; and the guilt, horror, and remorse at-tached to the latter had become associated to the former; thus sexuality had to be shunned in all its forms and manifestations. Deprived of her defenses of shyness, ti-midity, and sexual isolation, the patient could only ex-perience severe anxiety, depression, and guilt. The above examples refer to situations in which "wild counseling" was both erroneous from a psychoanalytic point of view and faulty from an ethical and moral standpoint. Yet examples can be given of morally un-exceptionable counseling that is equally "wild" from a psychodynamic point of view. A judgmental and psycho-dynamically imprudent pastoral counselor once strongly advised a young man to give up compulsive masturbation at all costs; the counselee did, at the cost of severe homo-sexual panic and suicidal behavior. A couple was once treated in marital counseling; he was a drug addict, moody, manipulative, exploitative, sadistic, occasionally violent; she, the unnervingly patient and "holy" type of woman who goes through life proudly protesting her humility and vigorously proclaiming her martyrlike good-ness in the face of unbearable male provocations. The counselor did not see that this was a neurotic marriage and that this woman (fully aware of her husband's long record of addiction at the time she had married him) had done so to fulfill her masochistic needs and express her controlling and manipulative polarities in the least obtrusive way. The counselor also failed to realize that this woman had a need to foster her husband's addiction (for example, she used to express astonishment at the fact that her husband always managed to steal the groceries money to buy drugs; in actuality, it was she who would unconsciously "forget" some money [always just the right amount for "a fix"] on her dresser for her husband to steal) and that his addiction was an essential '"prop" to her personality. When the counselor finally persuaded her to separate from her husband, she became severely depressed and became an alcoholic. As indicated before, the counselor should be both mature and loving; without these qualities, the most sophisticated psychological understanding will be basi-cally vitiated; and counseling will remain ineffectual. The psychoanalyst's personal maturity can be assured, in most cases, by the fact that he is demanded to undergo inten-sive personal psychoanalysis before he is o~cially per-mitted to psychoanalyze others; the counselor's maturity can only be assured by rigorous screening procedures at the time he applies for training; constant supervision during training gives the additional opportunity to certify as counselors only those who have demonstrated the needed maturity. Why should the counselor be mature (the quality of "loving," I would like to suggest, is an inevitable by-phenomenon of maturity) is self-evident. The mature and loving counselor practices counseling in terms of his counselee's needs--not his own. He is actively passive and non-directive because he believes in the rationale of this technique--not because he is uninterested or because he wishes to work as little as possible. When he gives active counsel, he does so because he honestly believes that it is right to do s~not because, by so doing, the counselee will love, admire, and respect him or "get off his back.~' The mature counselor responds to his patients realisti-cally and not in terms of neurotic reactions set up in him by the counselee's attitudes, symptoms, or values. He can be acceptant of his counselee's behavior, without condon-ing or approving it. He does not "judge" the counselee's actions; rather, he helps him to understand why he acts this or that way and what results can be anticipated from these actions. In being loving, the mature counselor is also capable o~ the adequate measure of self-love and self-respect, without which, I might suggest, there may be no genuine and consistent love and respect of others. A few examples may be given which will clearly in-dicate the maturity or the immaturity of the counselor. A lay counselor I supervised always managed to ask his counselees very personal questions of a sexual nature not to clarify his views on relevant aspects of his patients' personality but to fulfill, vicariously, neurotic sexual needs of his own. Examples given before (while we were 4- Counseling VOLUME 24, 1965 359 ÷ ÷ + Vincent S. Conlgliaro, M~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS on the subject of the "understanding superior" and "understanding coun.selor") indicated how the counselor (or the superior) responded in terms of their own neurotic needs rather than their patients'. One pastoral counselor's sternly judgmental reaction to the rage exhibited by one of his counselees was less related to the patient's prob-lems with sadism than it was to the counselor's fear of his own hostility. Sometimes the counselor's immaturity first creates problems to the counselor himself which will then be transmitted to the counseling relationship and the counselee. A counselor I once supervised, incapable of mature self-love and self-respect, became very anxious because of his inability to resist his counselees' manipula-tions and dependency. He allowed counselees to contact him at home, at all hours of the day or night; the more dependent they became on him (and the more they in-convenienced and disrupted his family life), the more he resented them and the more he felt he had to "make up" for his hostility by giving in to their manipulations and dependency, thus getting involved in a self-perpetuat-ing vicious circle. Immature~or insufficiently trained--counselors may want to terminate a counseling relationship for a com-bination of '"right," conscious reasons (that is, the pa-tient is too sick and needs psychotherapy) and uncon-scious, "wrong" reasons (that is, hostility set up by the patient's values, attitudes, habits, and so forth). These counselors may feel so guilty, unconsciously, for the "wrong" reasons that they may be unable to recommend termination on the basis of the conscious, "right" reasons. They may present the "right" reasons to their counselees in such ambivalent, confusing fashion that the counselees sense the existence of hidden hostility, perceive the recommendation to terminate as '"rejection," and neu-rotically cling to the relationship: "interminable counsel-ing." On the other hand, an untrained pastor I know (truly and genuinely loving--of others; not enough, per-haps, of himself) often feels he does not have the right to refuse or deny anyone and gets involved in intermi-nable counseling in a different way: the parishioner keeps on coming, once, twice a week, to the rectory, refuses to be referred to a psychiatrist, and clings to the unhappy and helpless priest for years. Sometimes it is a superior who makes herself un-realistically available to her sisters. She is "willing" to practice informal counseling at any time during office hours (and beyond) and is unable to turn down any sister's request for "a few minutes of time." This superior may be taking too literally the Christian, ethical, or professional obligation to make oneself available to those who suffer, forgetting the equally ethical and Christian obligation to be good to oneself. One superior I knew refused no one coming in to see her, no matter how busy she was, how many deadlines she had to meet, and how many unfinished tasks were before her. She made her-self available "so that sister won't feel rejected."; her inner discomfort and tension, however, inevitably diffused to the counseling relationship. She would listen superficially and be exposed to the risk of making super-ficial, premature comments; or, while she "listened," her eyes would dart to the typewriter or steal a glance at the wristwatch; or her hands would tap impatiently by the telephone or tug at the crucifix ("Dear God, help me be patient."). The sisters she "listened" to inevitably received the message and felt just as rejected as if they had been asked to return later. A more self-loving superior will do better (by herself and by the sister) by recognizing her right (and her duty, perhaps, to herself) to tell sister warmly but firmly that she will take just a few minutes right away to discusse the matter of an appointment: which will be given within the day if sister feels the matter is that important, later, if sister feels her problem is not that urgent. I am suggesting, then, that when counselor, superior, pastor have sufficient mature self-love and self-respect (at least enough of it to resist the temptation of making themselves unrealistically, or masochistically, available to others) they will, at the same time, be capable of mature, joyful, and genuine love of others. (Could it be that "love thy neighbor as thyself" really means that one has as much obligation to love oneself as to love one's neighbor? And that this beautiful maxim, read between the lines, suggests that without mature self-Jove there cannot be mature other-love?) ! On the subject of "mature and loving understanding," it may be very appropriate to conclude by briefly reflect-ing on the question of values and counseling. While the counselee's values should have little relevance to the counselor's effectiveness, the same cannot be said of the counselor's values. ("Values" here is meant on a broad ethical and philosophical plane, not only on a religious or moral plane.) At the risk of being considered an incorrigible idealist, I should like to suggest that the effective counselor (like the effective psychotherapist) must be, above all, a decent, good human being. If he is not to be, at best a sterile and antiseptic technician, at worst a manipulator and a hidden persuader, he must be committed to a philosophy of integrity, love and respect of others, self-love and self-respect. The attributes of maturity, loving-ness, and understanding will ulti-mately be inherent and intrinsic in the man's existential ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling VOLUME 24, 1965 36] integrity and ethical commitment. He cannot be auto-cratic, manipulative, devious outside of office hours, and genuinely permissive, truthful (to himself and his work), and sincere in his office; by the same token, he cannot be weak, manipulable, neurotically self-effacing outside of his office and reasonably assertive, reliable, and helpful during office hours. He need not be "perfect" (whatever this word may connote in his personal weltanschauung), but honest. He need not feel that he must make no mis, takes; all he needs is mental alertness to the mistakes he makes and the emotional courage to recognize them and try to do his best to rectify them. He need not be a self-righteous crusader for love, freedom, and a democratic philosophy of life, but someone who does his best to love, be free, and set others free. I began by noting that "counseling, as a technique and a philosophy of human relatedness., is important to both psychoanalysts and religious persons. (who) both work with human beings and are both committed to a profession of service . " In closing, I should like to suggest that both psychoanalysts (or psychotherapists, counselors, and so forth) and religious persons (or pastoral counselors, house counselors, and so forth), be-cause of the specific quality of their relatedness to the human beings they work with, are alike also in this respect: the measure of their success in their work is, to a large extent, a measure of their existential richness and integrity. ,4" 4. + Vincent $. onigliaro, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS WILLIAM J. REWAK, S.J. Mortification: An Entry inta the Christ-Mystery I. Aversion of Modern Man In the spirit of the Church's aggiornamento, there is a great demand today for authenticity in moral and ascetical theology, a demand for new and valid expres-sions for the old values. A value is a value, after all, not because it is traditional but because it is an authentic expression of my personal relationship to God and to other people. We are aware of, and fear, the crystalliza-tion of the primary Christian experiences. It has often happened that the Church---or more exactly, institutions and individuals within the Church---have bequeathed to succeeding generations rites, methods, and customs with-out any inner ideal and spirit. Such a stagnation of the original value can occur in any human experience: mysticism can degenerate into magic and ritualism; prophecy is always in danger of crumbling into moral-lsm. So the original value, idea, must forever be reex-pressed; it must grow within the historical context and be reinterpreted in the light of changing modes of thought. At the same time, it must keep a strong hold on the primitive experience. It is for this reason we will investigate the New Testament doctrine on mortifica-tion. A theology of mortification is badly needed. The pres-ent doctrine is inadequate, for it has not kept pace with the advancements in Sci'ipture and other branches of theology. At the present, we are reacting against a moral theology that has emphasized sin and progressing towards a positive program of Christian life: doing good in the service of a generous charity. The idea of morti-fication, then, which according to many manuals is practiced either as a punishment for past sins or as a deterrent against future sins must be reappraised,x What ~$ee P. J. Meyer, s.J., Science o] the Saints (~t. Louis: Herder, ÷ ÷ ÷ William J. Re-wak, s.J., is a mem-ber of Regis Col-lege; 3425 Ba~.view Avenue; Wallow-dale, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 24, 1965 4, 4, 4, William ~. Rewak, 5.1. REVIEW FOR REL]G~OUS 564 is objected to is not that sinful man needs mortification, but that theories of mortification seem to bypass Christ and have for their starting point, their raison d'etre, the fact of sin. Every natural philosophy tried to elimi-nate "sin"; the Stoics were concerned with perfection, but only natural perfection. A Christian existential view of sin cannot fall into this trap. Many wish to find their mortification in the daily struggle involved in working for their neighbor, in the apostolate. The absolute value itself of mortification is not always questioned; a blank rejection would be an act of infidelity to the Word of God. What is vehe-mently questioned is selpchosen mortification: corporal punishments, voluntary acts of abnegation of the intel-lect and will, all those acts, freely chosen, which hurt our pride or human respect. Their necessity is question-able in the light of the very real difficulties confronting the apostle in today's pluralistic society, in a world where the general breakdown of morality requires a new and more refined, more soul-searching response in his communication with his neighbor. There is no doubt about it: mortification is the daily fare for the dedi-cated apostle. Why opt for additional, self-chosen acts of mortification? Mortification has too often been identified with ex-traordinary corporal austerities. The ordinary apostle, not given to sackcloth and ashes, hairshirts, dank caves, and bloody lacerations, is sincerely seeking an "ordi-nary" saint. He wants as an example someone who must stay strong and healthy in order to perform manfully, joyfully, and effectively the tasks of a university pro-fessor, a retreat master, or a Catholic businessman. Besides, corporal austerities are currently out of favor as a result of the renewed "theology of matter." We have, it is hoped, at least theoretically banished all traces of Platonism and Jansenism from our books and lectures on spirituality. There is today an emphasis on the sacramentality of matter, an emphasis fostered by the late Teilhard de Chardin. The body, the world of the material and concrete, are all good and will con-tribute in their own specialized way to the glory of the kingdom to be revealed in us. If corporal austerities are to be retained, they must be based on a more solid foundation than the Jansenistic distrust of the ma-terial. 2 1902), pp. 88-91. Father Meyer's primary reason for practicing morti-fication is "as an atonement for past sins"; and it is "still more neces-sary as a preservative from future sins." This obviously needs quali-fication and completion. i We use the terms "Jansenistic" and "Jansenism" because they are readily intelligible to the modem reader. It must be admitted, how-ever, that the use of such terms is more for convenience than for Older spiritual books, books which influenced the ascetical teachers of the first half of this century, are notoriously negative in tone: If we were to count all the miseries of human life, we should never have done. Holy Job says, "The life of man is a per- Detual warfare upon earth, and his days are like the days of a hired servant that labours from sun-rising to sun-set" (Job vii. 1, 2). Several of the old philosophers had such a lively sense of this truth, that some of them said, they could not tell whether to call nature a mother or a step-mother, because she has sub-jected us to so many miseries. Others again used to say, it were better never to be born, or at least to die as soon as we were strict and complete historical accuracy. An explanation is therefore in order. We urge the reader to consult Louis Bouyer, The Spiritual-ity o] the New Testament and the Fathers, trans. Mary P. Ryan (London: Burns and Oates, 196~) for an excellent account of the problem of gnosis in the early Church. Contrary to modern popular belief, Father states, there was a legitimate gnosis sought by St. Paul and by the early fathers; one has only to think of the formulation of the First Epistle to the Corinthians on knowing God even as we are known (1 Cor 13:12; see also Eph 3:19 and Phil 3:7-11). And this is a knowledge which is really an experience of God, in the love of the Spirit. St. Ignatius of Antioch says: "Why do we not all become wise in receiving the gnosis of God, Jesus Christ?" (p. 246). Gnosis for primitive Christianity was an experiential knowledge of the mysteries of the Father's plan for salvation. But at the same time the natural Greek philosophers themselves were seeking ~alvation through a gnosis of their own. These influences came in turn to form Christian gnosis. "Eons or angels descended in endless cascades from a pleroma in which everything is divine, towards a foreign matter in which everything is mired and becomes degenerate. To this fall, which is one with creation itself, is opposed the mission of the Logos, more or less strictly identified with the man Jesus. But since salvation is nothing but the recovery of an con fallen into mat-ter, the incarnation could be only apparent. It must lead, in fact, to a salvation which is not a redemption of the whole of man, but a disengagement in man of what has never ceased to be immortal 'spirit,' that is to say, an escape from the bonds of the body and the world . The cross of the Saviour only frees our soul along with his from the chains of the body" (p. 223). It is immediately apparent that the grandfather of the heretical positions of the Jansenists, Puritans, Albigensians, Manicheans, is Greek Gnosticism--a corrod-ing rationalism which understood nothing of the true Gnosis, the Word of God. It is not the Logos of Hellenistic syncretism that we, as Christians, come to know, but the Word made flesh. This is why so many spiritual writers of the last few centuries have misfired with their ascetical doctrine; they were influenced by the same rationalism that has threatened Christianity from the beginning and is too often the error of Christian "humanism": the adoption of ascetical prac-tices for the purification and reintegration of the purely natural man, with no consideration for the priority of the interpersonal relation-ship between man and God. The early Greek Gnostic sought an apatheia: the calming of all disordered tendencies, rendering him insensible to outside influence. The Christian Gnosdc also sought apatheia, but it was attained through perfect submission to charity. This in no way meant an extinction of the human, "but rather its unification in which everything is taken up and transfigured which is worthy of being so" (p. 274). Christian asceticism must begin from faith, from the Word of God; it must proceed from the Spirit of love speaking within us. + + .I-Mortification VOLUME 24, 1965 365 4. 4. 4. William J. Rewak, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 366 born; nay, some of them have gone so far as to say, there are but few persons, that would accept of life after having made an experiment of it, that is, if it were possible to make a trial of it beforehand,s If one were to take this seriously, he would have to regret that God ever uttered a fiat. Having disposed of the object, the author turns to the subject: Cast your eyes on yourself, and you will find there motives enough of humility. Do but consider what you were before you were born, what you are since you have been born and what you are like to be after your death. Before your birth, you were a filthy matter unworthy to be named, at present you are a dunghill covered with snow, and in a short time you will be meat for worms.~ An adequate understanding of the Incarnation can surely dispel such gross misconceptions of God's creation. But it is precisely upon such misconceptions that the author--and other authors--have based their arguments for mortification. Little wonder modern man is repelled. An unhappy refrain running through most spiritual manuals of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is A bstine et sustine! Refrain and endure,s Cast unwillingly into a flaming abyss of sin where even the apostolate is fraught with unimaginable dangers, mortification alone will lead us to "perfection." And this is perhaps the worst aberration of rationalistic moralism: the use of ascetical practices not for establishing and maintaining a dialogue with God but for the stoical perfection of all the virtues. Most spiritual books of the last century offered detailed instructions on how to develop the virtues of fortitude, for example, or temperance, chastity. And the first means was always mortification--as they understood it. "We must possess more virtues; through them only can we reach our end. Here comes in the aid of self-denial and self-discip-line." 0 Another section of the book explained the ob-stacles to the acquiring of these virtues;7 and a third sec-tion enticed the reader with such titles as "Of the Spiritual and Temporal Advantages Promised to Virtue in this Life, s Rev. F. Lewis, O.P., The Sinner's Guide (Dublin: Richard Coyne, 1825), p. 162. ~ Ibid., p. 271. ~ See, for example, Alphonsus Rodriguez, S.J., Practice o! Perfec-tion and Christian Virtues, trans. Joseph Rickaby, S.J. (London: Manresa Press, 1929), p. 567; and Meyer, Science of the Saints, p. 97. °Moritz Meschler, s.J., Three Fundamental Principles of the Spiritual Life (Westminster: Newman, 1945), p. 80. The author seri-ously calls his book "Christian Asceticism in a Waist-Coat Pocket" (p. v). 7See John Baptist Scaramelli, S.J., The Directorium Asceticum, trans, at St. Bueno's College, North Wales (4 vols.; London: R. and T. Washbourne, 1902), v. 2. This second of four volumes is devoted en-tirely to the manifold obstacles to Christian "virtue" and the means for overcoming them--penance and mortification. and particularly of Twelve Extraordinary Privileges be-longing to it" s or "Some Easy Kinds of Mortification." 9 Such pragmatic spirituality, which is nothing but the victory of reason over animality, lacks a real Christian motive based on Christ's entry into our life through baptism and the sacraments. Fortunately, we have recovered the notion that per-fection is not the piling up of virtues, computer-fashion; it is more fundamental, it is Chrigt-centered. We see Christ as the focal point of all our religious activity, of all our apostolic activity, of all human relations; and when an author bids us go forth from our father's house because "in the shelter of the religious life, separated from the world, from all that might .have occupied your thoughts and your hearts, you live for God alone," 10 we cannot believe him. Or if someone counsels us: "If the religious vocation demands the abandonment of the parental roof, sons and daughters must sacrifice their affections for parents and relatives that they may gain thereby Christ's promise of eternal life," or asserts that friendships are dangerous because "friendship between proper parties that has for object their mutual spiritual advancement is rare and found only among saints," 11 we can hardly take him seriously. The author is too much like those of whom P~guy wrote that "they think they love God because they don't love anyone." Mortification and sacrifice have often been put in opposition to joy. Come, my children, when pain, sacrifice, and duty press heavily upon you, when you experience dryness and disgust, endeavour to make, if you will, a dry and bitter act of love of God . Fervour and sensible devotion is good for small minds; shake off these feminine ways, aspire to something more noble, more vigorous. As for ourselves, we have had not one quarter of an hour's consolation in forty years.~ Hard saying for a generation that is experiencing the ascetical consequences of St. Paul's theology of the Res-urrection. Surely sacrifice and consolation, as authentic expressions of God's Good News, must somehow be re-lated. But most authors of moral guidebooks struggled with this "problem" of pleasure, happiness, consolation, and could not easily reconcile it with Christ's example of suffering. There exists in fact the problem of pleasure. Readily enough ~ Lewis, Sinner's Guide, p. 85. ~ Meyer, Science oJ the Saints, p. 101. 10 P~re de Ravignan, S.J., ConIerences on the Spiritual LiIe, trans. Mrs. Abel Ram (London: Washbourne, 1877), p. 185. Italics mine. ~aMonsignor P. J. Stockman, Manual o] Christian Per]ection (Hollywood, Calif.), p. 611. ~ De Ravignan, ConJerences, p. 191. Mortification VOLUME 24, 196S 367 4. 4. William ]. Rewak, 8.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS $68 does the concept of pleasure evoke the idea of something which, morally, has little to recommend it, or at the most, something which is to be tolerated. Living in the memory of Christ, the Christian soul with difficulty separates sanctity from suffering. Is it not by the cross that Christ redeemed and sanctified us? How can pleasure, then, be integrated into the moral life? Does this life not seem, on the contrary, to exclude it? Is there a place for pleasure in the context of a life of selbcontrol?18 And the author solves this conundrum by consoling his readers with the distinction that the essence of an act is what determines it and not the pleasure that may sur-round or follow upon it. Pleasure is outside the moral law: if the act is good, the pleasure is good; if the act is bad, the pleasure is bad. It is, he states, permitted to renounce this pleasure for a superior motive; but it is sometimes better to accept it, especially if it leads to virtue; and it may not always be possible to exclude it.14 Such a treatment of pleasure and consolation strikes the modern reader as negative, moralistic, and exces-sively rationalistic. It has not embodied the spirit of St. Paul: "They will forbid marriage, and will enjoin ab-stinence from foods, which God has created to be par-taken of with thanksgiving by the faithful and by those who know the truth. For every creature of God is good and nothing is to be rejected that is accepted with thanksgiving. For it is sanctified by the word of God and prayer:' (1 Tim 4:3-5). One last remark, and this first part will have per-formed its function. Mortification has been strongly identified with the devotions centering around the idea of reparation. We supposedly mortify our flesh to al-leviate the pain of the lash as it struck Christ during His passion; we kneel for hours to repair for the sins which are causing Him pain and sorrow. Sentimentality has conjured up the image of a Sacred Heart, sitting on the banks of the Loire, weeping and bewailing the sins which men are committing. Such misguided devotions can readily develop into dolorism, a perverted anguish which plays on false feelings of guilt; and for the modern psychology-oriented intellectual, this" is territory to be shunned. Mortification, if it is to be Christian, must turn one away from the self and towards Christ and ="I1 existe de fait un probl~me du plaisir. Assez ais~ment le con-cept de plaisir ~voque l'id~e d'une chose moralement peu recom-mandable, d'une tolerance tout au plus. Vivant du souvenir du Christ, l'fime chr~tienne dissocie malais~raent la saintet~ de la soul-france: n'est-ce point par la croix que le Christ vous a rachet~s et sanctifi~s? Peut-on donc integrer le plaisir clans la vie morale? Ne convient-il au contraire de l'en exclure? Peut-on lui assigner une place clans le gouvernement de soi-m~me?" Dora Odon Lottin, Aux sources de notre grandeur morale (Editions de l'Abbaye du Mont Cesar, 1946), p. 32. a~ Ibid., pp. 33-4. man. Sentimentality has no place in the authentic Chris-tian experience of reparation. It is the sum of all these inaccuracies, these exaggera-tions, these inauthentic expressions of Christian asceti-cism, which are causing the current questioning, if not the rejection, of mortification. If we are to retain morti-fication and sacrifice as indispensable e|ements of Chris-tian life, they must be integrated into the scheme of the "Christ-life" of which St. Paul is the outstanding interpreter. We have to make what we mean intelligible to modern Christians so that, as Karl Rahner says, "they will not think that 'sacrifice' is an expression for that misanthropy and secret hatred of life felt by failures who are incapable of courageously enjoying life and this world and the glory of human existence." a~ H. New Testament Doctrine on Mortification We have been using the term "mortification" in its popular sense, meaning all those acts of abnegation, of sacrifice, which are commonly understood as "mortify-ing." It is time now, however, to clarify the meaning of the three words ordinarily used interchangeably as synonyms: abnegation, renouncement, and mortification; and we will present, in the main, Fr. Iren~e Hausherr's distinctions,a6 This analysis will lead us into a further study of the Pauline texts on mortification. The Synoptics have all preserved the saying: "If any-one wishes to come after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me." a7 Fr. Hausherr has pointed out that in the Scriptures, when abnegate, "to deny," concerns a duty, there is always the same direct object: oneself. We cannot, strictly speaking, deny ourselves; that is, negate ourselves. We cannot deny what we really are. The abnegation demanded by Christ consists in denying, or not attributing to myself, that which I am not. The great truth about myself is that I am a creature ---or better, a son---of God; negatively speaking, I am not God. This elementary negation constitutes the es-sence of abnegate, of the "denial" of oneself. It is, to be sure, an intellectual judgment on my condition as a creature, a fully free human commitment to adore and praise the God Who has entered my life. But to stop here would enclose us in the same narrow straits of rationalism that hemmed in former ascetical writers. This basic abnegation--the adoration of God---demands that I act as a creature; but it demands primarily that ~ Karl Rahner, S.J., The Christian Commitment, trans. Cecily Hastings (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 167. l~Iren~e Hausherr, S.J., "Abnegation, renouncement, mortifica-tion," Christus, v. 22 (1959), pp. 182-95. a7 Mt 16:24. See also Mk 8:34; Lk 9:23. Mortification VOLUME 24, a965 William ]. Rewak, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 370 my filial relationship to God, which is discerned by faith, take precedence over and therefore exclude the primacy of every purely natural reference to self, and this in consequence of the existential character of the supernatural order of redemption I am now living. Transposed into life, this principle demands acts of mortification. The commandment "to renounce" appears in only one text: "He who does not renounce all that he pos-sesses cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:33). Christ is here again referring to all men, to whoever wishes to follow Him; it is therefore not a counsel but a command, a Christian duty. Obviously, the degree of embodiment of this renunciation will vary for every person and every state in life. Renunciation for a religious is not the same as renunciation for a layman. Although the specific command, "to renounce," does not appear elsewhere, there are related texts: "If your right eye is an occasion of sin to you, pluck it out . " (Mr 5:29); "If you wish to be perfect, sell all that you possess, give it to the poor, and come, follow me" (Mt 19:21); "And anyone who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or moth.er, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundred-fold and shall possess life everlasting" (Mt 19:29). The first Matthaean text is hypothetical but is uni-versal in its application. The remaining two texts refer to those who have decided to follow the counsels, since "to leave" is not commanded, it is optional. Luke has seemed to use the same logion, but the tone is harsh: anyone comes to me and he does not hate his mother and his son and his brother and his sisters, and himself, he cannot be my disciple" (Lk 14:26). In this context, "to hate" someone is to love him less than God, or better, to discern by faith that love of the Father grounds our love for other men. "To leave" is not a duty (except in the hypothetical case of an occasion of sin); but "to hate" and "to re-nounce" are obligations which fall on every Christian, as they indicate the relation that should exist between a son and a Father. Abnegation, then, refers to the subject: my self-love will be characterized and determined by my love for the Father. Renouncement refers to the persons or things outside the subject: all created things will be loved in the Father and through the Spirit because they are ex-pressions of God's love for me. "The charity of God is poured forth in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rom 5:5). Transposed into life, both of these principles demand acts of mortification. It is St. Paul who uses the word "mortification," and the first text we wish to examine is Col 3:5: "Therefore, mortify your members which are on earth." Some have understood this text literally to refer to punishment of the physical body. The Greek word for mortify, nekro-sate, does mean "to cause to die"; but St. Paul is not asking for the physical amputation of our members, he has too great a respect for the body: "Learn how to possess your vessel [body] in holiness and honor" (1 Th 4:4). But neither should the word be weakened to merely mean "suffer," for this, too, would have no precedent in Pauline doctrine. The word "members," then, can-not refer to our physical members; and in the context of the passage, there is an interpretation given to the word. Appearing in apposition to "members" are: "im-morality, uncleanness, lust, evil desire, and covetousness (which is a form of idol worship)" (Col 3:5). What we must put to death, what we must "mortify," are the dis-ordered affections which proceed from blunted self-love, a self-love not grounded in the Father's love, in Paul's terminology, the "flesh," sarx. Now the works of the flesh [sarx] are manifest, which are immorality, uncleanness, licentiousness, idolatry, witchcrafts, enmities, contentions, jealousies, angers, quarrels, factions, par-ties, envies, murders, drunkenness, carouslngs and such like . And they who belong to Christ have crucified their flesh with its passions and desires (Gal 5:19-21,24). The effects of selfish egoism destroy the beauty and the harmony of the Christian person. All these sins which Paul enumerates set a man against his neighbor, against God, even against himself. We must "crucify" the source of this disorder, our "flesh," in order that we may "walk in the Spirit" (Gal 5:16). Mortifying the flesh will produce the "fruit of the Spirit: charity, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, modesty, continency" (Gal 5: 22-3). The primacy of the spirit of charity in our lives is evidence that we have "risen with Christ": If you have risen with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, your life, shall appear, then you too will appear with him in glory. ThereIore, mortify your members . " (Col 3:1-5). Paul is inviting us to the state of mortification, in the interests of our resurrected life. "If by the spirit you put to death the deeds of the flesh, you will live" (Rom 8:13). Egdism must be mortified and sensuality curbed; then we live in the full supernatural sense. And here we begin to touch upon a basic Pauline theme. For Paul, the fundamental law of the spiritual life is a dying and a living with Christ. This occurs sacra-÷ ÷ ÷ Mortifwatlon VOLUME 24, 1965 371 4, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 372 mentally in baptism and it is of this he speaks to the Colossians. Perhaps his most explicit statement is in the epistle to the Romans: Do you not know that all we who have been baptized into Christ Jesus have been baptized into his death? For we were buried with him by means 6f baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ has arisen from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life" (Rom 6:3-4). The spiritual life is union with Christ; but this is a fellowship with His death and life. We die and rise again sacramentally in baptism, an invisible action which must be fully manifested and made effective in our daily lives. The sacramental, ontological change we undergo in baptism must have a corresponding effect on our moral and ascetical conduct,is Only in this way, by uniting ourselves sacramentally and ascetically to Christ's earthly activity of suffering, can we obtain a freedom from sin and our final resurrection: For his sake, I have suffered the loss of all things, and I count them as dung that I may gain Christ and be found in him not having a justice of my own which is from the Law, but that which is from faith in Christ, the justice from God based upon faith; so that I may know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his suffering: become like to him in death, in the hope that somehow I may attain to the resurrection from the dead (Phil 3:8-11). Fr. F. X. Durrwell states: These texts do not say that the remission of sin is gained in virtue of the merit acquired in the past by that death---one must not water down the reality of a single word of Scripture on the ground of reason being unable to cope with it; they say that it is gained in a communion in that immolationTM. Only by entering completely into the mystery of Christ, by uniting our sufferings to His in such a way that they are no longer our sufferings but Christ's--"l bear the marks of the Lord Jesus Christ in my body" (Gal 6:lT)-~can we truly become a "new creation" (Gal fi:lS) and enter upon the glorious life awaiting us. And so a radical transformation has already taken place at baptism: "As many of you as have been baptized in Christ have put on Christ" (Gal 3:27); "You were heretofore darkness but now light" (Eph 5:8); "The law of the spirit of life, in Christ Jesus, hath delivered me from the law of sin and death" (Rom 8:2). In the Chris-tian life, however, there is a vast difference between establishing a beachhead and the full experience of ~ Concerning this Pauline theme, see Alfred Wikenhauser, Pauline Mysticism (New York: Herder and Herder, 1960), pp. 149-56; and F. X. Dun'well, In the Redeeming Christ (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), pp. 84-90. ~ Durrwell, In the Redeeming Christ, p. 85. victory--the pleroma. In principle, Christ's death and resurrection and our sacramental participation in it have destroyed the inevitable domination of "the lusts of the flesh" (Gal 5:16); but the possibility of sin remains. The Christian life is a life of struggle, as Paul knew so well from his own personal experience and fa'om his ex-periences with the imperfections of the early Christian communities. But Christian suffering, the appropriation in our own person of the passion and death of Christ, must reflect the same motive that inspired the exinanitio: the redemp-tion of man and of the universe. "For we the living are constantly being handed over to death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus may be made manifest in our mortal flesh. Thus death is at work in us, but life in you" (2 Cor 4:11-2). Only to the extent that what is exclusively natural in us dies can the life of Christ become manifest in us in the form of apostolic activity. The death of the apostle is the necessary condition for the life of the Church and her members. And every Christian is an apostle. Only to the extent that we "bear about in our body the dying of Jesus" (2 Cot 4:I0) can we effectively continue the redemption by applying its saving activity to men. And here we reach the basic reason for all mortification: it is an entry into the mystery of Christ, a communion in His suffering, for the purpose of prolonging His re-demption in the world through the Church. His activity in Jerusalem two thousand years ago was not ineffica-cious for the present age; He effected the transforma-tion at that point in time, but He continues it in His glorified state through the members of His Church who recapitulate in their lives His redeeming experience. "Therefore I pray you not to be disheartened at my tribulations for you, for they are your glory" (Eph 3:13). The most important statement of this theme appears in Col 1:24: "I rejoice now in the sufferings I bear for your sake, and what is lacking of the sufferings of Christ I fill up in my flesh for his body which is the Church." Paul does not mean, of course, that he must supply by his sacrifices the defects in the sufferings of the historical Christ. Interpreting "the sufferings of Christ," Fr. Benoit says they are, in general, the tribula-tions of the apostolic life;2° while Fr. Wikenhauser ap-plies them more personally, stating they are Paul's own sufferings.21 These interpretations do not do injustice to Paul's thought; as he says elsewhere, "the sufferings ~o Pierre Benoit, "L'Epitre aux Colossiens," Bible de Jdrusalem (Paris: Cerf, 1959), p. 60, footnote (b). m Wikenhauser, Pauline Mysticism, p. 161. ÷ ÷ Mortification VOLUME 37~ of Christ abound in us" (2 Cor 1:5), meaning his own sufferings. At any rate, all reputable scholars agree with the general tenor of the text: Paul, and all Christians, must express in their lives Christ's passion and death for the salvation of the members of the Mystical Body, the Church. Quite simply, "they live no longer for them-selves" (2 Cot 5:15). And this salvation of the Body of Christ is a source of great joy for Paul, a joy that is a participation in the Resurrection: "For our present light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an etei-nal weight of glory that is beyond all measure" (2 Cot 4:17). Com-munion with Christ in His death necessarily means com-munion in His Resurrection, for this too is the moral and ascetical prolongation of baptism. The Resurrection should be lived, as mortification and suffering are lived. The apostle is a man of joy: "For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so also through Christ does our comfort abound" (2 Cor 1:15). It is in the letter to the Philippians, written during a harsh and humiliating im-prisonment, that Paul overflows with joy--a word that appears in this epistle eleven times because of the fellowship he experiences with his converts who them-selves have endured suffering for the sake of the gospel: "I have you in my heart, all of you, alike in my chains, and in the defense and confirmation of the gospel, as sharers in my joy" (Phil 1:7). In summary, Paul puts great emphasis on the mystical and sacramental fellowship in Christ that is effected at baptism; but he is equally insistent that Christians must foster in their lives a personal relationship founded on imitation--and this can only be done by re-experienc-ing Christ's life, performing the same redeeming activity He performed. To be one with Him in glory, we must be one with Him in suffering. This is the only way we know, the only way given to us by which we can be saved: "If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny him-self, take up his cross and follow me" (Mr 16:24). III. Some Conclusions ÷ ÷ + William I. Rewak, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS And what then is mortification? Most basically, it is a state of having died with Christ so that we may live with him, We must make more explicit, however, a dis-tinction which until now has only been implied: St. Paul is speaking primarily about absolute mortification, the state we all must enter as a result of our communion in baptism with Christ. Every Christian is called to this state; and the requirements are the same: the "putting to death" of the disordered inclinations and affections that are ours as a result of original sin.2~ We do not "mortify" the body, properly speaking; we mortify our flesh, sarx, the urge we possess to disassociate our in-terests from God's interests. And we do this that through us the Body of Christ, the Church, may live the Res-urrection more fully. But a problem remains. For this absolute principle of the spiritual life must be appropriated by each Chris-tian and embodied in his daily life. The acts of mortifi-cation, therefore, by which we make St. Paul's principle our constant concern, we term relative mortification. For these acts are always relative, to our state in life, to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and to the force of the disordered affections which remain in us. It is this we are concerned with now and it is under this heading we discuss selpchosen, freely imposed mortifica-tion. We live as members of a Church; all our Christian acts are ecclesiological--through, with, and in the struc-ture Christ set up for our sanctification. The existence of sin in any one of its members stops the flow of grace in a particular area and impedes there the growth of the Christ-life. Mortification does serve, then, as punishment for sin and as a deterrent against future sin, as the manuals have pointed out; but sin must be seen in the context of the Mystical Body, of charity: "For you have been called to liberty, brethren; only do not use liberty as an occasion for sensuality, but by charity serve one another" (Gal 5:13). We mortify our disordered affec-tions so that nothing will hinder us from entering into a meaningful dialogue with God and with our neighbor. We must make of our lives a dynamic redemption--a redemption that is continued through our Christian acts of prayer and mortification, in the Church, for mankind. It is in the light of this Christian experience, for example, that we seek the meaning of reparation. Acts directed to reparation are performed principally to further the penetration of the Christ-life in the members of the Church: the Church suffering and the Church militant. They are intended to "repair" the damage done by sin, to heal the wounds which Christ--in His members m St. Ignatius of Loyola insists that a "disordered affection" is an affection which does not take into account the action of God in our life. To mortify this affection, (I) w~ starve it by not allowing it to exercise its influence and (2) we pray that God may change this af-fection. It is obvious how important Ignatius considered both the initiative and the decisive influence of God's action in us; for this reason he puts great emphasis on the necessity of prayer when troubled by "inordinate attachments." See Spiritual Exercises, Nos. 16, 157. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mortit~ation VOLUME Z4, 1965 375 ÷ ÷ William J. Rewak, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS --has suffered, to open the channels of sanctification that we all may live healthy, grace-filled lives. Christ does not suffer, but His members do: the loss of grace, caused by the power of sin. The dialogue must be re-established, and our acts of mortification do effect, in ourselves and in our neighbor, through the mercy of God, the resurgence of the Christ-life. For within the mystery of the Mystical Body, there is room for mutual help--and this in the sphere of grace alone. This re-vealed fact in itself attests to the mysterious character of the organic union of this Body: "For we the living are constantly being handed over to death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus may be made manifest in our mortal bodies. Thus death is at work in us, but li[e in you" (2 Cor 4:11-2). But many Christians, agreeing with the general nec-essity of mortification, point to the apostolate, as we have indicated, as source enough of that "dying" Paul insists we must undergo for ourselves and our brothers in Christ. Failure in the apostolate, the limitations of our personality in dealing with others, the rejection of love, the inability to be effective--these are real crosses to be borne by every apostle. They point also to the one great abiding mortifica-tion, the acceptance of personal death. Karl Rahner has said: We have only to recall that death, as an act of man, is pre-cisely that event which gathers up the whole of the personal human life of the individual into one consummation. We have only, too, to recall, as Eutychius (A.D. 582) said, that there oc-curs "pragmatically" in death what had occurred mystically at the sacramental heights of Christian experience, in Baptism and in the Eucharist, namely our assimilation to the death of the Lord.~ And the death of the Lord was not an easy one. But self-chosen mortification, we affirm, performs ex-actly the same function, and that is one of the reasons it is so necessary. Just as personal death demands activity on the part of the Christian, so should our mortification, for mortification prepares us for and establishes a begin-ning and an acceptance of our final assimilation to the death of the Lord. Acceptance of suffering, of the crosses meted out to us in our apostolate, has great value; but it does not reach the depths of the personality as our self-chosen acts do. It is easier to accept .the loss of something we hold dear than to throw it away of ourselves. The blame can al-ways be put on circumstance, on someone else, even on God; and this is a consoling thought, for it is hard to ~a Karl Rahner, S.J., On the Theology of Death (New York: Herder and Herder, 1964), p. 77. blame ourselves, to freely commit ourselves to a dying in Christ. Penances imposed from without are .not free from the nonchalance and superficiality of routine. What may pass for a religious act may often be unthinking obedience. As Fr. Rahner says: One has only to have heard something, however little, about depth psychology, repression, substitution, self-deception, etc., to have to agree that thousands of "religious" and "moral" acts can take place in man which are induced by training, imitation, suggestion, mere instruction from without and a "good will" which does not reach to the real kernel of the person; acts which are not really religious acts because they do not stem from that level of personality, supernaturally elevated and ab-solutely individual, whose free fulfillment they must be if they are to signify, before God, the creation of an eternally valid life?' To maturely and effectively create a situation in which I turn back upon myself the hand of penance and deal a death-blow to self-love, is a fearful thing. Self-love is frightened of it; but self-love, inasmuch as it opposes God's interests and plans for me, must be hammered, molded, that a "new man" might appear whose affections are ordered to one end: that the Lord may appear in us. This creation of an act of mortification, then, reaches profound depths; it engages the whole personality, calls for a personal commitment that acceptance of suffering alone cannot command. What St. Paul calIs sarx--"im-morality, uncleanness, lust, evil desire and covetousness" (Col 3:5)---is rooted out only with dogged and ruthless persistence. "This kind can be cast out only by prayer and fasting" (Mk 9:18). Those who would reject all forms of mortification are, unwittingly, Platonists--any of the forms of false Gnosticism--for they make of us angels who do not need to be on the offensive against attacks of the "flesh"; they would not subscribe to a real Incarnation. Freely-chosen acts of mortification do prepare us for death because they anticipate it; but they also prepare us for the moral and physical suffering which we have admitted will be ours in the apostolate. There is no question of will power here: performing ten acts of morti-fication will not make my will ten times stronger than it was. It does increase our faith, our insight into the suffering Christ as He appears in mankind. We cannot make quick improvisations when Christ approaches in the sufferings we have not chosen. If we have begged for the grace of faith--for that is what we do when we "practice" mortification--it will not be lacking when the crosses He has prepared for us appear. To recognize Christ, where He is and who He is, is the fruit of a life of faith; this does not come full-blown from our hearts; it is the result of much hard labor. The Christian Commitment, p. 88. + + Mortification VOLUME 24, 1965 William ~. Rewak, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Besides, Christ has given us an example. It is surely not a coincidence that before His public life He fasted and prayed in the desert for forty days. This unique and signal attention to the Father for the good of men is our invitation to imitate Christ at this salvific moment of His life. We need not retire to the desert, conceived of as a geographical place. But the inner quiet, the fast-ing, doing battle with each one's personal "devil" re-stores an equilibrium that leaves us docile to the inspira-tions of the Spirit. Some type of solitude is necessary for every Christian, be he a contemplative, a diocesan priest, a lay apostle, or the busy parent of a large family. This solitude will take different forms, dictated by the person's own. spiritual potential, the age he lives in, the labors he must perform as a citizen in a highly complex social and economic structure. But some type of inner quiet seems mandatory for true growth in the Christian spirit: Solitude is a terrible trial, for it serves to crack open and burst apart the shell of our superficial securities. It opens out to us the unknown abyss that we all carry within us. And. soli-tude discloses the fact that these abysses are haunted: it is not only the depths of our own soul, unknown to us, that we dis-cover, but the obscure powers that are as it were lurking there, whose slaves we must inevitably remain as long as we are not aware of them. In truth, this awareness would destroy us, if it were not illuminated by the light of faith. Only Christ,, can open out to us with impunity "the mystery of iniquity, be-cause he alone, in us today as ]or us in the past, can confront it successfully.~ ~Bouyer, Spirituality, p. 313. Apropos of the "flight into the desert," Father Bouyer is at pains to dispel the misconceived notions surrounding the early Christian hermits. They were not inspired by net-Platonic spirituality; on the contrary, he states, there was nothing more evangelical than their primary motivation. Speaking of St. Antony, he says, "Anchoritism did not make Antony a con-templative unconcerned with the fate of his brothers; it made him a spiritual father beyond all others" (p. 315). He quotes the beautiful passage ~rom the Vita of St. Antony where, after twenty years, friends break down the hermit's door in their enthusiasm to be with him and to imitate him. This is what they find: "Antony came out, as one initiated into the mysteries in the secret of the temple and inspired by a divine breath. Thus, for the first time, those who had come saw him. They were lost in wonder: his aspect had remained the same; he was neither fat from lack of physical exercise nor emaciated by his fastings and struggle against the demons, but just as they had known him before his withdrawal. Spiritually pure, he was neither shrunken with regret nor swollen with pleasure; in him neither laughter nor sadness; the multitude did not trouble him, having so many people greeting him gave him no excessive joy: always equal to himself, governed by reason, natural" (p. 314). Antony recognized that solitude allowed him to discover the obscure forces he had within himself and to discover the means to cast these forces out. Solitude was not an end in itself: it was a victory of one Spirit over the others that made him seek it. "Men can no longer tempt him, separate him from God. On the contrary, it is he who now finds himself in a position to guide them, to lead them to God. Here Mortification in the form of a retreat, in the form of fasting, became a part of Christ's plan of the redemp-tion; we can do no better than to make it a part of the role we play in the redemption¯ And this is surely the key: by mortification we enter into the Christ-mystery. We become His Body, resuming in our lives His redemptive acts, pleading with the Father for the salvation of man; for mortification is a language, not a sign. It is a response to a Person who has initiated a dialogue with me through baptism and the sacraments and through His reve~led Word. God's action in history is a word to me now; I can only trespond by placing myself before Him as His son, by per~forming acts which indicate my willingness to accept His love, to treat Him as Father¯ I accept Him as the bes.t part of my life, the whole of my life. This is prayer, of course; and mortification, as a language, is an essent, al part of my prayer life. All of my acts as a Christian. are a prayer, and they all contribute to the consolation I should experience--as a Christian--in formal~ prayer. The formal prayer itself fills the reservoirs of f~ith and love, just as formal, self-chosen acts of moruficatlon do, so that my effectiveness in the Mystical Body, through Christ in me, is increased a hundredfold. My formal mortification will result in lived mortification. I The af-fections become ordered, their false security uhmasked by a judicious use of corporal and spiritual p.enances, and the inmost person is calmly and confidently la~d open to receive God's Word. I It must not be forgotten, however, that theseI acts are relative to my present insertion into the mystery of Christ; and so all must be ruled by an expertl discern-ment of spirits. To codify too carefully pemtentlal prac-tices in the novitiate, for example, destroys the'ir mean-ing and their effectiveness; it stultifies ~nventlveness and I often just creates matter for humorous stones. Young religious, no less than young lay people, must be edu-cated in the reality of sin in their lives, in the part they must play in salvation history; and only in this way, I ¯ through the direction of a wise spiritual father, ,will they discover the path of mortification which is suitable to them. result Uniformity of ascetical practices is often the~ of pragmatic spirituality. If everybody performs an act of mortification at a certain time in a predetermaned way, there is an implied assurance that all are r~ortifying themselves. This is hardly the case. St. Ignatius, la mystic who was keenly aware of the value of acts of Oortifica-anchoritism reveals how httle it is a way of escaping from charity. On the contrary, ~t ~s simply the means of effectively ga~m.ng integral charity" (p. 315). ÷ ÷ Mortification VOLUME 24, 1965 379 ÷ William ]. Rewak~ sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 380 tion, refused to set down any rules governing their performance: ¯. it does not seem good that in those things which regard ~Pgnsr,a ywear,t cmheindigtast iaonnd a ondth setru dayu,s oter rciotirepso,r aaln eyx reurclies essh souuclhd abse f alasti-d down for them except that which a discreet charity will dictate to each: provided, nevertheless, that their confessor is always consulted . ~ It is for this reason some countries and dioceses have cur-tailed or abolished the fasting rules. This action does not indicate the depreciation of the value of penance; it has been made obvious that the Christian obligation of penance now devolves upon the individual who, guided by the Holy Spirit and insured against error by the advice of his confessor, will perform more spontaneously and therefore more effectively the penitential practices suitable for him.27 It is not necessary that mortification be identified with corporal austerities, though these will ordinarily be useful to some extent. The best way 0f seeking mortifica-tion is in the sphere of human relations. There is much need here for broadening the scope of our penitential practices: seeking the solutions to others' problems, standing up for others' rights in the face of ridicule, intelligent obedience to legitimate authority--being a Christian individual, in other words, in a world where conformity is a despotic fashion. Father David Stanley says this was the real mistake of the Judaizers: they could not be Christian individuals in a society which con-sidered the cross of Christ a folly and a stumbling-block.~ s "As many as wish to please in the flesh compel you to be circumcised simply that they may not suffer persecution for the cross of Christ" (Gal 6:12). The state of mortification is a state of love; for love is the source of the dialogue that takes place between ~".non videtur in iis quae ad orationem, meditationem et studium pertinent, ut nec in corporali exercitatione ieiuniorum, vigiliarum aut aliarum return ad austeritatem vel corporis casti-gationem spectantium, ulla regula eis praescribenda, nisi quam discreta caritas unicuique dictaverit; dum tamen semper Confessarius consulatur . " Constitutions o! the Society of Jesus, P. VI, c. 3, n. 1 08~). ~ See Paul J. Bernadicou, $.J., "Penance and Freedom," R~vmw FOR Ra~LIOIOUS, v. 23 (1964), pp. 418-9, Father Bernadicou writes with conviction and persuasiveness of the need for expert spiritual guid-ance in the sphere of mortification. Karl Rahner applies this same principle of each one's unique entrance into and expression of the mystery of Christ to the problem of the relation between the indi-vidual and the Church, and here also insists upon the application of the discernment of spirits. See "The Individual and the Church," Nature and Grace, trans. Dinah Wharton (London: Sheed and Ward, 1963). ~ David Stanley, s.J., Christ's Resurrection in Pauline Soteriology (Rome: Pontifical Biblical Institute, 1961)0 p. 78. man and God and results in man's response of faith, prayer, and acts of mortification. Love is forgetfulness of self because of the neighbor who is loved with the charity of Christ, and what else but this is an act of true penance? Kenunciation, then, cannot but be an exer-cise in joy, for where there is love, there is joy. Our self-chosen acts of mortification, performed at times in great spiritual unrest, are tokens of confidence: Man implicitly recognizes that he does not know where his true happiness lies and that it is hidden from him, but God knows it ~or him. He perceives it through the signs which reveal it to him: the escape from Egypt, the land of slavery, the crossing of the desert under God's guidance, the hope which dwelt in the heart of the wandering host making its way to the Promised Land. The desert is the apprenticeship of an austere joy which is like the dawn on the horizon of conscience.~ We do share in Christ's resurrection, having shared in his death; and consolation will ever be the keynote of authentic Christian experience. But the fullness of joy is not yet ours for we live in the eschatological age, an age of tension between time and eternity, hope and fulfillment. Acts of mortification take on, in this con-text, the character of witness. Asceticism is the eschato-logical attitude of the Church, an attitude that is most acute in religiou

Issue 37.1 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; pies of Discernment According Jesus of N~zareth Culti~atingthe Cegtering Pr yer 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 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. 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. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January, 1978 Volume 37 .Number 1 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gai/en, 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. Review for Religious Volume 37, 1978 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilms Inter-national; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~) 1978 by Review ]or Religious. Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth Br. Jonathan of God and Br. Carith of the Incarnation Brothers Jonathan and Carith reside in the Elias Desert House of the Zion Carmelite Com-munity; R.R. ~1; Garnet, KS 66032. Our age is one of sincere sign seekers unlike the Pharisees and Sadducees rebuffed by Jesus in Matthew 16:1-4. The Pharisees and Sadducees came along, and as a test asked him to show them some sign in the sky. He gave them this reply: "In the evening you say, red sky at night the day will be fight, but in the morning red sky and gloomy, the day will be stormy. If you know how to interpret the look of the sky, can you not read the signs of the times? An evil, faithless age is eager for a sign, but no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah." With that [the evangelist editorializes rather graphically] he left them abruptly.~ We long, with a deep interior lohging, to know God and to live in his truth. We are the generation that has spawned the Jesus Movement. We have responded, more openly than any previous generation, to the teachings of the Religious East. Titles like Swami, Guru, and Yogi as well as Eastern spiritual practices like Mantra and chanting are becoming well-known in the West. Messianic personalities .have appeared on nearly everyone's spiritual horizon. These wise men from the East speak with persuasion and attract many faithful devotees. All claim to speak the truth and present themselves as ambassadors of God. Religious communities in this climate of sincere aThe New American Bible, (New York: Thomas Nelson, Inc., 1970), p. 1089. 3 4 / Review for Religioas, Volume 37, 1978/I spiritual search have many men and women who feel called to a deeper life of prayer. For superiors this current direction has become an administrative problem by having to replace "good workers'" in now-vacated positions. For the religious seeker it has become a time of painful self-examination. Whether we are attempting to discern the words and actions of a particular spiritual teacher or determine if we have in our religious community a prophet or pious pm'anoid, we will do well to look carefully at the principles for discernment given to us by Jesus himself. Jesus gave ten very clear principles for the discernment of a person's spiritual claims. The principles are found in John's Gospel, chapter 5, verses 27-44.~ The verses are easily divided into two categories: 1) Prin-ciples for judging the person discerning: the subjective element that does come to play in every discerning situation. 2) Principles for discetvdng the person in question: the object of discernment. Since discernment of a religious phenomenon is of ultimate and not relative importance, Jesus was not satisfied with presenting a few static principles applicable by the spiritual and technical man alike. Just as a judge may know the law but lack wisdoml a person seeking to discern a spiritual matter needs more than a set of criteria, even if the norms used are the legacy of a great saint. Jesus insists that the "discerner" begin by scrupulous self-examination. The first set of principles, five in number, are for the purpose of self-discernment. Once the judge can assure himself that he does have the "gift" of discernment, he may turn his attention to the religious question to be reviewed. In testing the spirit of the person being considered, the discerner may use Jesus' second set of criteria, also num-bering five. Principles for Self-reflection The Father who sent me has himself borne witness to me. You have been deaf to his voice, blind to the vision of him, and his word is not continually present in your hearts; that is why you will not trast one whom he has sent (Jn 5:37). FIRST PRINCIPLE Men can recognize that one is sent by God if they are attuned to God and. his voice and vision, and if they continually have his word in their hearts. Commentary A group of teenagers from a street gang are not asked to review a new ballet about to open at the civic auditorium. Promoters of rock music do not solicit opinions from senior citizens. ~The Holy Bible, Trans., Ronald Knox. (New York: Sheed and Ward, inc. 1956), pp. 91-92. New Testament section. Principles fi)r Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 5 With no reflection on teenage gangs or the aged, the pollsters are honestly judging the inability of these groups to evaluate the situations validly. According to this principle of Jesus a person must know God in more than an intellectual manner. He must know God and not only know about God. To put it in thi~ eloquent phraseology of the Carmelite hermit, William McNamara, "He must know the God of theology, not just the theology of God." You pour over the scriptures, thinking to find eternal life in them (indeed it is of these I speak as bearing witness to me) but you will not come to me to find life (5:39). SECOND PRINCIPLE Men fail to trust one as coming from God when they interpret scripture in a static way. Or when they subject gcripture to their own mind's inter-pretation. Commentary This is the problem of fundamentalism. Fundamentalism had tripped up many in the time of Jesus: "'The pharisees and scribes approached Jesus with the question: why do your disciples act contrary to the tradition of our ancestors?" Fundamentalism is the problem that has subdivided Chris-tianity. It is a problem we in the Catholic-Christian tradition, flatter our-selves in having overcome. We have become erudite in scriptural exegesis and are long removed, from the narrowness of the Inquisition. But who among'us can say that we look at reality without our limited personal perspective? Who among us is so egoless as to welcome in an unbiased manner God's messengers? I do not mean that I look for honor from men, but that I can see you have no love of God in your, hearts (5:41). THIRD PRINCIPLE Men fail to trust one as coming from God when they have no genuine love of God in their hearts. Commentary Just as "loving" our offspring by insisting that they become doctors may be a subtle form of self-glorification, so a .person's sincere love for the organization or institution can be a real bloc to God's plan of salvation. If the "temples" of our work are to be destroyed by a genuine loving response to a messenger of God, then we must have faith that better structures will be raised up in "three days." The demons that darken our vision in this area are the ones that Jesus suggests can be expelled only by copious prayer and fasting. 6 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 I have come in my Father's name and you give me no welcome, although you will welcome some other if he comes in his own name (5:43). FOURTH PRINCIPLE We welcome men with credentials from other men and fail to recognize a man who comes from God. Commentary When Saint Peter of Alcantra went to the bishop of Avila to seek his approve! for Theresa of Jesus to open a convent with no "fiked income" he. was rebuked and turned away because he was speaking poor economics. Francis of Assisi needed an introductory letter from ,Bishop Guido to see the pope and the intercession of a cardinal to keep him from being dismissed summarily. We are all beginning to realize that an academic degree does not tell us the degree of real knowledge, wisdom, a person has. The amount of technical information to which an individual has been exposed is indicated by a degree. True knowledge cannot be earned or discerned by degrees. How should you learn to believe, you who are content to receive honors from one another, and are not ambitious for the honor which comes from him, who alone is God (5:44). FIFTH PRINCIPLE Men fail to recognize a man from God when they look for honor from men only instead of being anxious for God's honor alone. Commentary This needs little comment. We are all wounded deeply in this area. Human respect is a serious problem. We all relate with the sentiment of Cardinal Wolsey: "IfI had but served my God as faithfully as I have my king, I now would not be naked to my enemies." Principles to Discern the Man from God As the Father has within him the gift of life, so he has granted to the Son that he too should have with him the gift of life (5:26). FIRST PRINCIPLE The man of God gives life like God gives life. Commentary The holy men of the East state it in this way: A flower filled with honey need not wear a sign to attract bees. The type of life referred to here is the kind Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 7 we have the privilege of witnessing in the life and work of Mother Theresa of Calcutta. We stand in awe of the miracle of her activity but we are believers like Thomas. We have seen so much evidence of God's work in her life. Blessed are they who first commissioned her to respond to her "call within a call" and go live as the poorest of the poor. Many of us might have looked upon her proposal as a bit too idealistic. I cannot do anything on my own authority. I decide as I am bidden to decide and my decision is never unjust because I am consulting the will of him who sent me not my own will (5:30). SECOND PRINCIPLE A man from God does nothing on his own authority, only on God's, thus he is never unjust. Commentary The men and women who refused to cooperate with the "justice" of the Third Reich because of higher laws are the kinds of individuals seen operating under this principle. Acts done as an obedience to God, by interior realization or e.xternai vision, may contradict man's law but not the Law of God. Although Theresa of Avila seemed disobedient to her local superiors the day she opened her first convent of the then incipient Carmelite Reform, she had acquired permission from the pope and local ordinary. Theresa, also, had the support of her ardent admirer, the General of the Order, Fr. Rossi.3 The father., has also granted him the power to execute judgment (5:27). THIRD PRINCIPLE A man from God judges wisely. C6mmentary Wisdom is a gift that transcends technical thinking. Solomon's wisdom befuddled the two women seeking the custody of the child but the intuitive conclusion to which Solomon came did lead to justice. The words of the wise will often confuse those of us lost in our heads. All of life is mystery yet we want to "understand it." The wise person does understand by transcendir~g his thinking, limited and ego-filled, and begins to see reality through the eyes of God. 3The history of the Carmelite Reform of St. Theresa is immensely complex. For further reading see: Journey to Carith, Peter-Thomas Rohrbach, O. C. D. (Garden City, New York: Dou-bleday and Company, Inc., 1966), Chapter V., and The Carmelites, Joachim Smet, O. Carm. (Darien, Illinois: Carmelite Spiritual Center, 1976), Vol. II., Chapter If. I~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 lfl t'estify on my own behalf, that testimony of mine is worth nothing; there is another.who testifies to me, and I know well that the testi-mony he bears me is worthy of trust. You yourselves sent a message to John, and he testified to the truth (not that I depend on any human testimony; it is for your own welfare that I say this) (5:31). FOURTH PRINCIPLE A man from God gets testimony from holy men and from God, not from any human testimony. Commentary When it comes to discerning a spiritual person the otherwise hackneyed expression takes on a certain profundity, "it takes one to know one." The example of Peter of Alcantra's witness to the worthiness of Theresa of Avila as described under the commentary of section four of the first, set of principles is applic~.ble here. But the testimony ! have is greater than John's; the actions which my Father has enabled me to achieve, those very actions which I per-form bear me witness that it is the Father who has sent me (5:36). F~F'rn PRINCIPLE A man from God performs actions that are greater than a man can do on his own. Commentary Use Mother Theresa of Calcutta as a present day example of this principle in operation. The growth of her community is precisely the phenomenon that it is because it occurs in an age of vocational depression. Her efforts to sustain the efforts of thousands of Missionaries of Charity from alms alone, refusing any fixed 'income, is an economic miracle. Of simple peasant stock, Mother Theresa has been received as royalty by pontiff, prelates and presidents. Her resources she claims come to her on her knees. Rejecting the benefices of men who wish to tangle her work in red tape, Mother Theresa clings with childlike confidence to the only Benefactor she really trusts. The crowds were divided over the issue of Jesus. Some maintained "he is a good man" and others felt he was misleading the people: They were unable to comprehend how his knowledge surpassed his slight formal religious education. Some went so far as to voice the question: "When the Messiah does come, can he be expected to perform any greater signs than this man?" (Jn 7:31). We believe Jesus did come from God but many of his, and our, contemporarie's did or do not. It is grace that makes us free enough of our own perception of reality to believe that God, who is infinite, Principles for Discernment According to Jesus of Nazareth / 9 manifested himself in toto, in the finite son of Mary. Many of life's givens have been challenged, some taken away. Less of us are certain that those who cry, "the end is near" are mad. Living in a time of technological chaos and intense spiritual confusion, with salvation being offered us in monasteries and marketplace, how do we know who spi~aks with God's authentic voice? A sincere use of the principles given us by the Master will assure u~ of knowing whom he has chosen to represent him and to whom he has entrusted the words of etei'nal life. "Give beauty Retreat's End back., back to God" (G. M. Hopkins) I give you back this pure, full mountain morning, all leaping, blue as robins' eggsr here at Isaac Jogues where giving feeds, feeds the air. I give you back but keep the love, this gentlest affirmation of my need. Each moment as a specially-cared- for now, a nest of robins' eggs that could be eagles-- each one I give you back, but heart-wise I go down this mountain slowly, though light with love, renewed fidelities. I do not look back; the heart has eyes that memorize such mornings. Mary Enda Hughes, S.S.N.D. College of Saint Joseph the Provider Clement Road Rutland, Vermont 05701 Cultivating the Centering Prayer Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O. Abbot Keating's article is based on talks given at "Advanced Centering Prayer Workshops" given at his abbey, St. Joseph's, Spencer, MA 01562. A practical method of contemplative prayer based on the Cloud of Un-knowing, developed by Father William Meninger and called "Centering Prayer," has been made available by means of tapes, workshops sponsored by the Religious Life Committee of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, and the increasing number of retreats in different parts of the country designed to communicate this method. An introduction to the Centering Prayer by Father Basil Pennington appeared in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in September, 1976. His book on the same subject, Daily We Touch Him, was published by Doubleday in March, 1977. In any form of prayer, listening, waiting, attending to God have an important place. This article deals with the kinds of thoughts that occur in the silence of listening and gives some indication of how to deal with them. How we cope with unwanted thoughts is of crucial importance since it affects the quality of prayer, its refreshment, and the presence or absence of tension. Considerations proposed in this article in reference to the prac-tice of Centering Prayer, therefore, may be applied, in a manner adapted to it, to one's own preferred form of prayer. Centering Prayer Centering Prayer is a renewal of the traditional prayer of the Church leading to contemplation. It is an attempt to present it in an up-to-date format and to put a certain order and method into it. This prayer is not meant to replace all other kinds of prayer. But it puts all the other kinds into 10 Cultivating the Centering Prayer / 11 a new perspective. It centers one's attention on God's presence within and moves on to discover his presence everywhere else. Thus it is not an end in itself, but a beginning. It is not to be done for the sake of an experience, but for the sake of its fruits in one's life. Here is a parable that points to what is happening in this prayer. There was a little fish who swam up to his mother one day'and said: "Mummy, what is this ocean I hear so much about?" She said to him, "You stupid little fis!! It's all around you and in you. Just swim up onto the be~ch and lie there for a while and you'll find out." Another time, there was a little bear who walked up to his mother one day and said: "Mummy, what is this air I hear so much about?" She said to him, "You stupid, little bear! It's all around you and in you. Just stick your head in a pail of water for a while, and you'll find out." Finally, there was a certfiin beginner in the spiritual life who was having a hard time. One day he went up to his spiritual director and said: "What is this God I hear so much about?" , The spiritual director should not, of course, say to him, "You stupid little novice! He's all around you and in you." But he is supposed to be able to tell him what to do to discover and experience this reality. Centering prayer is one way of doing this. By turning off the ordinary flow of thoughts, which reinforces one's habitual, way of looking at the world, one'.s world begins to change. It is like turning a radio from long wave to short wave. You may be used to a long wave set and the stations it picks up, but if you want to hear stations from far away, you have to turn to the other wave length.' In similar fashion, if you turn off your ordinary thought patterns, you enter into a new world of reality. To do this systematically, take up a position that will enable you to sit still Close your eyes. Half of the world disappears, because we think most of what we see. Then slow down the normal flow of thoughts by thinking just one thought. Choose a sacred word of one or two syllables with which you feel comfortable. It will be the sign of your intention to open yourself interiorly, to the mystery of God's enveloping presence. Keep thinking this sacred word. When you become aware that you are off on some other thought, gently return to this word. As you go to a deeper level of reality, you begin to pick up vibrations that were there all the time but not per-ceived. This broadened perspective gives you a chance to know both your-self and God in a new way. ' Method Our ordinary thoughts are like boats sitting on a river, so closely packed together that we cannot see the river that is holding them up. We are normally aware of one object after another passing across the inner screen 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 of consciousness: thoughts, m~mories, feelings, external objects.¯ By slow-ing down that flow for a little while, space begins to appear between the boats. Up comes the reality on which they are floating. The prayer of Centering is a method of directing our attention from the boats to the river on which they are resting, from the particular to the general, from the concrete to the formless. At first you are preoccupied by the boats that are going by. You become interested to see what is on them. You must train yourself to let them all go by. If you catch yourself becoming interested in them, return to the sacred ¯ word you have chosen, which expresses the movement of your whole being toward God who is present within y.ou. A familiar gesture of devotion consists in placing the palms of the hands together with fingers pointing upward. It is meant to express the movement of our body and soul toward God. All our faculties are gathered together and pointed toward God by this gesture. That is what the sacred word is trying to say. It is a pointer. The wofd itself can become vague or disappear. It can be only an impulse of the will. But it points one's whole being to God. Quieting the Mind Various kinds of thoughts may come down the stream of consciousness when one starts to quiet one's mind. The appropriate response is a little different for each. The most obvious are the superficial thoughts that the imagination grinds out because of its natural propensity for perpetual mo-tion. These should be treated like the weather which you just have to accept. The important thing is not to pay any attention to them. They are like the noise in the street which floats through the window of an apartment where two people are carrying on a conversation. Their attention is firmly directed to each other, but they cannot avoid hearing the noise. Sometimes they reach a point where they don't notice it at all. At other times the honking of horns may distract them momentarily. It would be useless to get in the elevator and g6 downstairs and tell the people on the street to shut up. You would have to discontinue the conversation, and you might not be able to take it up again where you left off. The only reasonable attitude is to put up with the noise and pay as little attention to it as possible. In this way you give as much of your undivided attention as circumstances allow to the person with whom you are conversing. The second kind of thought occurs when you get interested in something that is happening in the street. A brawl breaks out and attracts your curiosity. This i~ the kind of thought that calls for some reaction. Here is where returning gently to the sacred word is a means of getting back to the general loving attention you are offering to God. It is important not to be annoyed with yourself if you get involved with these interesting thoughts. That would be a great mistake, because any annoyance or any curiosity that you give in to is another thought, and that takes you farther away from the Cultivating the Centering Prayer interior silence which is the proximate goal of this prayer. Interior silence is always going to be relative. It is important not to reflect on what is happening while doing Centering Prayer. You can do that later. While in this prayer, dedicate the time to interior silence. Silence As we sink into deep peace and then silence, a third kind of thought may arise. Something in our nature--or maybe it is the devil--starts fishing. Brilliant intellectual or theological insights or what seem to be marvelous psychological breakthroughs, like tasty bait, are dangled in front of our minds and we think, "If only I can remember this fantastic insight!" But acquiescence to some beautiful or illuminating thought long enough to remember it afterwards will bring you out of the deep waters of silence. Any thought will bring you out. A very delicate but intimate kind of self-denial is necessary in this prayer. It is not just an experience of rest and refreshment--a sort of spiritual cocktail hour. It involves the denial of what we are most attached to, namely, our own thoughts and feelings---our very selves. This kind of asceticism goes to the very roots of our attachment to our superficial egocentric selves and teaches us to let go. It is the most thorough kind of self-denial, but also a delightful kind. Self-denial does not have to be afflictive to be effective. It is a question of choosing the best kind of self-denial and working at it. This is not the time to think about praying for yourself or somebody else. You can do that at another time. The basic principle for handling thoughts in this prayer is this: whatever thought, feeling or experience attracts your attention, always return to the sacred word. A thought can be anything you notice--inwardly or out-wardly. Even if you should have an overwhelming experience of God, this is not the time to think about it. As you quiet down and go deeper, you may come to a place that is outside time. Time is the measure of motion. With few or no successive thoughts, you may experience the time of prayer passing like the snap of your fingers. "It certainly did not seem like half an hour." As you settle down to deep peace and inner freedom from all thoughts, a great desire to reflect on what is happening may arise. You may think, "At last I am getting some place?' Or, "This feeling of peace is just great." Or, "If only I could make a mental note of how I got here so that I can get back to it whenever I want!" These are good examples of the fourth kind of thought. In deep tranquillity you are offered a choice between reflecting on what 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 is going on or letting go in faith. If you let go, you go to deeper silence. If you reflect, you come out and have to start over. There will be a lot of starting over. The presence of God is like the atmosphere we breathe. You can have all you want of it as long as you do not try to take possession of it and hang on to it. Nothing is more delightful than the divine presence. For that very reason we want to carve out a piece of it and hide it in the closet for safe-kee. ping. But that is like trying to grasp a handful of air. As soon as your fingers close over it, it is gone. The presence of God does not respond to greed. It has a different dynamism. It is totally available, but on condition that we freely accept it and do not try to possess it. This prayer is communion with the Spirit of God who is charity, pure gift. The possessive instinct in us wants to hang on to what is good for dear life and the tranquillity is so good and brings such a deep sense of security that the temptation to hang on is very great. But let it go. Accept each period of Centering Prayer as it comes, without asking for anything, having no expectations. In that way its fruits will grow faster. We always want to possess. That is why it is so hard to let go, why we want to reflect on moments of deep peace or union in order to remember how we got there and thus how to get back. But charity is non-possessive. It gives all back to God as fast as it comes. It keeps nothing for itself. The tendency to reflect is one of the hardest things to handle in deep prayer. We want to savor the moment of pure joy, pure experience, pure awareness. But if you can gradually train yourself to let the temptation to reflect go by,just like any thought, you will pass to a new level of freedom, a more refined joy. We are accustomed to think we do not experience something until we express it in a thought. It is difficult to be childlike, to enjoy what is happening and.forget it when it has passed--to savor the immediacy of reality. Reflection is one step back from experience. It is a photograph of reality. As soon as you start to reflect, the experience is over. Reflection on joy is an attempt to possess it. Then it is lost. This method of prayer is a t~-aining in self-surrender. It teaches us by our own experience and mistakes not to be possessive, but to let go. If in this prayer you can get over the inveterate habit of reflecting on what is going onnhave peace and not think about having peace--then you will have learned how to do it. Interior Purification There is a fifth kind of thought which arises in Centering Prayer. Any form of meditation or prayer that transcends thinking sets off the dynamic of interior purification. This dynamic is a kind of divine psycho-therapy. The experience facilitates the coming to consciousness of one's motivation Cultivating the Centering Prayer and evil tendencies, and sometimes enables the organism to release deep rooted tension in the form of thoughts. Generally, thoughts Which are the result of this process arise in the mind when one is most at peace, without one's knowing where they come from or why. They may introduce them-selves wih a certain force or even with an emotional charge. Once again, the best way to handle them is to return to the sacred word. If you can once grasp the fact that thoughts are not only inevitable, but necessary as part of a process of healing and growth initiated by.divine grace, you will be able to take a positive view of them. Instead of looking upon them with negative feelings as distractions, you see them in a broader perspective that includes both silence and thoughts--thoughts that you do not want or accept, but which, for the purpose of inward purification, are just as valuable as moments of profound tranquillity. Conclusion Take everything that happens during the periods of Centering Prayer peacefully and gratefully, without putting a judgment on anything, and just let the thoughts go by. It does not matter where they come from, as long as you let them go by. Don't worry about them. Don't fret about them. Don't judge the prayer on the basis of how many thoughts come. Simply follow the fundamental directive. When you are interested in a thought, either positively or negatively, return to the sacred word--and keep returning to it. This is fulfilling the Gospel precept to watch and pray. It is a waiting game to the nth degree. All through the Prayer of Centering your mind will be in and out of deep silencemlike a balloon floating in the air on a calm day. Just when it seems to be sinking and about to touch the earth, along comes a little zephyr from nowhere and up goes' the balloon. So it is with our consciousness. You should pick up the sacred word at whatever level you find it--a simple impulse of your will may be sufficient. Then you can go back into silence without delay. If you get angry--"O, I wish my mind would keep still!"--then you get thrown out farther. You must be non-judgmental about particular experiences of this prayer. The only way to judge it is by its long-range fruits: whether in daily life you enjoy greater awareness of the presence of God, greater peace, humility, and charity. Having come to deep silence, you see more clearly your capacity to relate to others at the deepest level, to pass beyond superficial appearances like social status, race, nationality, and personal characteristics. To know God in this way is to perceive a new dimension to all reality. The ripe fruit of this prayer !s to bring back into the humdrum routine of ordinary life, not just the thought of God, but the constant awareness of his presence beyond any concept. He Who is--the infinite, incomprehensible, ineffable Onemis the God of faith. In this prayer we are asking, "Who are you?"--and waiting for the answer. We Are No Longer Strangers. Ecumenism, the call of all Christians, is especially the apostolate of the Atonement Fathers who annually prepare special materials for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. along with their many other works. We present here two of the articles thus prepared which we deem of. special interest to religious. Contact: Rev. James J. Gardiner. S.A.; Graymoor Commu-nications: Graymoor/Garrison, NY 10524. Ecumenism- Source of Confusion or Renewal? Kenneth G. Stofft, S.A.* In 1889 a Southern Baptist pastor and editor proposed that "'representative men and competent scholars" from the churches come together to "con-sider the: differences of belief from the Bible standpoint." Thomas Tread-well Eaton was convinced that, even though scholars could not agree on all points, they could at least establish some agreement and clear the field of "much useless and cumbersome rubbish" impeding Christian reunion. This piea was taken up the following year by the Southern Baptist Convi~ntion in Fort Worth, Texas. Approvingly, the convention suggested that othe~ denominations appoint representatives to study together the biblical teaching on those points of doctrine and ecclesial government over which the churches were divided. At least, said the convention delegates, this concerted study could help achieve "a better understanding of the issues involved." In addition to the joint study, it was proposed that the *Father Stofft is Staff Officer in'ihe Office for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs of the Roman Catholic Archdiocese of Oklahoma City, Oklahoma. 16 We Are No Longer Strangers results of such deliberations "'be Widely published in all denominational papers, so that the Christian public may be thoroughly informed" and that "progress may be made toward true Christian union" (see Proceedings of the SBC, 1890, Atlanta, GA: Franklin Printing House, 1890, page 22). Even though the pleas of Eaton and the Southern Baptist Convention of 1890 were generally ignored by the churches and communities, the prin-ciples espoused were continually taken up by lone voices who attempted to keep the evangelical call for Christian unity before the ecclesiastical public--no matter how small that public became. The cali for '~a better understanding of the issues involved" in Christian divisions was reiterated by a small group of missionaries who ushered in the ecumenical movement at the turn of the century. The suggestion by Eaton that "competent scholars, . . consider the differences of belief from the Bible standpoint" Was recognized and officially affirmed by the Roman Catholic Church dur-ing the early part of the Second Vatican Council in 1963. The need to keep the Christian public "thoroughly informed., that progress may be made toward true Christian union" has been one of the major aims of the annual Week of Prayer for Christian Unity (January 18-25), as well as of the national and international dialogues between the churches and Christian communions. Because of the pioneering vision of men and women like Thomas Treadwell Eaton and the Southern Baptist Convention of 1890, the biblical call for "conversion" through Christian unity is gradually being realized before our eyes in the present decade of human and ecclesial history. But has this perennial call become the source of unwarranted confusion among the churches or a true renewal of mind and heart for the sake of mission? As each Church tradition has reluctantly or enthusiastically entered various stages of renewal (liturgical, scriptural, ministerial), Christians have also entered a period when confusion, rath+r than a clean perception of renewed life and ministry in .the Spirit, seems to have grasped them. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish between what is an historical accident or custom of Church life, and what is primary and essential to Christian belief and life. The ecumenical movement began with a di~dication to the scriptural mandate to witness to all nations concerning the saving work of God in Jesus Christ. However, the movement has grown in strength and credibility because, of its critical, historical eye toward the past and present, having firmly placed its precarious future within the will of the Father through prayer, patient study and continued shared ministry for the sake of the Gospel. The 1978 Week of Prayer for. Christian Unity (January 18-25) has for its theme: "We are strangers no longer" (Ep 2:12-22). In this passage from St. Paul's Letter to the Church at Ephesus, the apostle from Tarsus stresses the need for the Church to ground its faith in Christ Jesus, its foundation. Review,for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Within the Church we are no longer strangers, because we form together the household of God, are saintly citizens, and rise up as the building whose foundation is the Risen One. Since we are no longer strangers to one another, nor to the Lord, we are presumably fellow saints who understand the issues having to do with our household. If this simple fact is not reflective of reality, or even close to our daily lives, then perhaps we are treading on dangerous ground and following the way leading to confusion, rather than renewal. Scholars of our various traditions and communities have attempted to examine both the truths we hold in common as followers of the Lord and the numerous differences in understanding these truths which characterize us as distinct "churches." These same scholars have passed on their research and findings to church officials for examination and dissemination to the wider community of the Church. We are requested to examine the results of these national and international dialogues and ask ourselves: Do these agreed statements re-flect our living faith? The first step toward Christian familiarity has been taken: to consider our differences in light of Scripture. The second step has been attempted: to publicize the progress of these dialogues through denominational media. The third step along the path to an intelligent process of education and renewal has not adequately been taken: to ask, is this our faith? The third step, however, presumes a great deal about church people and churches. It presumes we are familiar with the unique heritage we possess as part of the Church universal, with the inherited gifts we have as churches. Each church or Christian community has its own history but it also shares a common, history with others. Are we familiar-with the development of the Church and churches? Do we appreciate our differences as factors of his-tori~ al development? What binds the Southern Baptist churches to the Roman Catholic Church, for example? What has been the history of our development under the guidance of the Spirit and the pressures of world society? What separates and unites us as part of the household of God, fellow citizens of the saints? An examinatirn of such questions may help to reduce prejudice and confusion and may well achieve in the power of God a renewal, conversion of mind and heart for the sake of mission. A thorough renewal in the light of Scripture and history may aid the people of God in becoming more visibly the Church, in attaining "true Christian union" in close relationship with our. Savior and Lord, who is also our brother and the Son of Man. The historical period we are entering today is critical because it chal-lenges all of us to identify ourselves as "church" in relationship to one another and the Lord. Without educated lay people, religious educators and pastors, the challenge will be a major source of chaos. We must be familiar with our ecclesial history as both the source of our divisions and the oc-casion for our "reunion" in the Spirit for the sake of the Church's identity We Are No Longer Strangers I 19 and mission in the world. Who are we? Why are we who we are? Ecu-menically, we may be able to clear the field of "much useless and cum-bersome rubbish" impeding our "access to the Father" as "fellow citizens of the saints, and members of the household of God." Oo Ecumenical Worship: What Do We Say to the Father? Charles Faul, S.A.* ~n those first "spring-time" days of ecumenical dialogue that followed soon after the Second Vatican Council, I became involved with an interfaith discussion group in my hometown. We knew little about each other and the tone of our discussions, while friendly, was also a good deal defensive. Most of us, in the beginning, felt the need to defend the rituals and doctrines of our particular segment of Christianity. This was natural enough, since we had been raised to believe that our way came closest to what Christ had ordered for his Church. Due no doubt to the breath of God's Spirit;-we gradually came to understand each other better and moved toward the vision of the faith we held in common. Certainly,. some favored a Church centered on sacra-mental life and hierarchical order~ while others favored the primacy of Word and less structure,, but we also learned that words like "Father," "Lord," "Spirit," "Baptism" and "Gospel" had much the same meaning for all of us. Most important, we came to this understanding as we learned to pray with one another. When our lips spoke the words of faith that sprang from our hearts, the commonality of our beliefs became apparent to us all. Ten years or so have passed since that time, and the historians, liturgists and theologians of Western Christianity have Confirmed in their speeches and writings what we discovered in our grass-roots dialogue ~uring the 1960's: the faith that we share as Christians, whatever our denomination, *Brother Faul is a theological student atAtonement Seminary, Washington, DC. 20 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 is monumental. ,Our common bonds reach back to the faith of the Fathers of the early Church and to the New Testament. Our traditions vary, of course, but our willingness to rethink our positions has led to some remarkable convergences. The Roman Catholic Church, forexample, has centered much 6f its renewal on the need to rediscover the importance of the Word for liturgical and doctrinal formulations, while, at the same time, the more evangelical churches have developed an ever-increasing awareness of the importance of sacramental life and, in particular, the centrality of the Lord's Supper in the expression of Christian life and witness. Dialogue between the theo-logians of major church bodies has produced statements affirming one another's ministry and express.ing a common view of eucharist and church order. Truly it has been a remarkable decade, but what does all of this mean for the personal and congregational level? We live', work and celebrate not with theologians or liturgists, but with each other. Each of us is that most enigmatic of figures, "the average Christian." The average Christian, how-ever, is the Church of Christ in miniature. The summation of our faith is the faith of the Church, and our worship, its prayer. How then in our joint worship can we express this valuable new insight? The theme selected for this year's Week of Prayer for Christian Unity is~'No Longer Strangers" (Ep 2: 19). It describes the feeling, mentioned at the beginning, that is experienced by those who have come to know that Christians outside one's own tradition are not competitors, but rather brothers and sisters in the journey of God's Pilgrim People. The question, then, is how might our prayer reflect this point of view? First of all, we must understand that all Christian prayer is ecumenical, since we pray to the one Father, in the name of the Lord Jesus, through his Spirit. This is the basis of prayer for all Christians. Thus, whether we pray privately or in a body, with our own congregation or in an ecumenical - setting, we are praying with and for the Church of Christ. We, in fact. come to a deeper sense of the universality of Christ's Church. Second, at those times when we engage in specifically ecumenical wor-ship, that is, when Christians of various traditions come together to pray, we need to recognize the bonds which join us together. We all suffer fiom brokenness and division, not only as a Church, but also as individuals and communities. However, our hope is found in the redemption won for us by Christ, won for all of us, and in the grace of his Spirit poured out freely on each of us. This is the source of any healing that might stem from our common worship. We share the belief that the dying and rising of the Lord is the model of Christian life for each of us. We must die each day to sin, in order to rise, though the grace of God, to a new life. Realizing we need each other's prayer and support in order that God's action in our lives might be fruitful, we come to a deeper sense of the unity of Christ's Church. Ecumenical Worship: What Do We Say to the Father? Finally, when we examine the liturgical heritage of the Christian faith, we can find the practical elements of ecumenical worship. Christians can pray together, not only for eight days in January, but on any and every.day, using the sources common to Christian believers in every age, namely: I) the words of Scripture and the early church writers; 2) prayers of praise, thanksgiving and intercession; 3) the church creeds, especially those com-monly known as Apostle's and Nicene; and finally and most important, 4) The Lord's Prayer which is the model for all Christian prayer. None of these elements is the possession of any one denomination. They are the liturgical inheritance of all Christians. In their usage we come to a deeper Sense of the holiness and apostolic foundations of Christ's Church. In coming together to pray for Christian unity, one group might want to follow the formats suggested for Morning Prayer (Lauds) or Evening Prayer (Vespers) in the revised Roman, Anglican or Lutheran Prayer Books. Another group might wish to use a more flexible structure, such as has developed in the many prayer communities which have sprung up recently. It is not the format that matters, but rather the act of Christians praying together. We must remember that Christ did not organize a discussion group. Heprayed "that all may be one" (Jn 17:21). Mutual dialogue is vital to the future of ecumenism. We must discern, however, that the most important, fruitful dialogue is the exchange between God and the com-munity of believers in Christ Jesus. If we are able to worship together in "Spirit and in Truth" (Jn 4:24), we will have advanced the cause of Chris-tian unity, for we will have come not to lament our divisions, but rather to realize our need for one another as sisters and brothers, "no longer strangers." Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation Robert F. Morneau Father Morneau is a frequent contributor to these pages. He resides and teaches at Silver Lake College of the Holy Family; Manitowoc, WI 54220~ Integration is concerned with "putting it all together." This admirable quality is sometimes ascribed to actresses who excel in their art, to pro-fessional athletes who have reached the peak of performance, to persons who live healthy, balanced lives. How common or rare these people are is a matter of dispute. Perhaps most of us could identify, not so much with the integrated universal man of the Renaissance, but rather with the plight of poor Humpty-Dumpty. Like him, all the king's horses and all the king's men cannot quite get us put back together again. The fragmented life of Humpty-Dumpty is a universal image in that all people of every age have had to contend with the realities of division, alienation and anomie. These forces are strangers to no one, though the intensity and longevity of each varies from person to person. Lest we despair in the face of this disinte-grative factor of reality, we must also come to recognize that the process of healing is a significant power in life. The healing process mends and restores persons, relationships and the world. A realistic view of life de-mands that the dialectical nature of division and healing, sin and grace, sickness and health all be fully appreciated for what they are. Despite the fact of disintegration, the Christian vocation has as its goal both individual and communal wholeness: integration in love is God's call to mankind. Our trust and hope is grounded in the Spirit of love who unifies and heals all of life. This love, God's gift of himself to his people, draws us into an intimacy with him that is the core of Christian living. Like a fish in Integration and the Sacrament.of Reconciliation / 2~i water or like a bird in the air, the very existence of the Christian demands the presence of God's love. St. Paul's message to the Ephesians summa-rizes this so well: "To live through love in his Presence." God's love is the source of all integration; living outside that love results in the darkness and estrangement flowing from separation from the source of light and peace. Those who have traveled before us have expressed well the central role of God in human life: the psalmist prayed, "You are my God. My happiness lies in you alone" (Ps 16). Augustine also summarized the nature of true peace: "For thou hast made us for thyself and our hearts are restless till they rest in thee." The succinct call to integration comes from scripture: This is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God (Mi 6:8). Though we smile at the slight understatement ("only this"), the prophet presents a vision of life that is radically simple. The complexity of intricate theologies, the score of duties and obligations, the multiplicity of laws all seem less threatening when we can summarize God's will in terms of being and becoming a just, loving and faithful person and people. These qualities reveal the interiority of integration. Justice leads to peace and oneness, whereas injustice, by withholding from others their proper due, causes division. Love unifies through affirmation and support, thus providing hope to the weary and discouraged, whereas apathy and indifference isolate and separate person from person. Faith, the intimacy of a personal relationship with Christ, is an integrative power shedding light and warmth on the spirit of man, while faithlessness terminates in the despair of meaninglessness. Justice, love and faith are seen as the ingredients of an integrated existence. . The sacrament of reconciliation aims at fostering the vocation common to all of us: to-be-one with God, with others, with the world and with ourselves. As with all the other sacraments, the sacrament of reconciliation makes present God's love and forgiveness in a special way. Through the encounter with Christ, the penitent is offered the grace of healing which helps to put back together again all the spiritual.humpty-dumpties of his-tory, and we are in that number. God's gracious love hurries to friend the deep split within the person which Paul Tillich describes so well: It is important to remember that we are not merely separated from each other. For we are also separated from ourselves. Man Against Himself is not merely the title of a book, but rather also indicates the rediscovery of an age-old insight. Man is split within himself. But the depth of our s.eparation lies in just the fact that we are not capable of a great and merciful divine love towards ourselves.1 1Paul Tillich, The Shaking of the Foundations (New York: Charles Scdbner's Sons, 1948), p. 158. ~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 It is in Jesus that this divine and merciful love touches our lives to mak~ us whole once again. Integration: Personal and Communal--The HHH Principle The historical pendulum swings violently fl'om one extreme to the other. One period will stress the uniqueness of the individual withoutgiving prop-er attention to the social nature of the person. The rugged individualism of American history is a case in point. Then the pendulum, having reached its one extreme, swings its reactionary way to the other pole. Collectivism and totalitarian ideologies arise to stress the social whole to, the exclusion of individual rights. The twentieth century's political and social theories of fascism and communism are examples of this one-sided mentality. The truth of the maiter lies in the middle: both the individual and the social facets of human existence must be recognized, protected and fostered. Their interdependence and interrelatedness are principles of in-tegral living. Oneness involves both the individual person and the com-munity. The new rites for celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation carefully protect both dimensions. This fact must be kept in mind through-out the following description of.integration. The themes and principles of ¯ integration applicable to the individual are also, by way of analogy, nec-essary for an understanding of communal integration. On the personal level, there are three major elements seeking integra-tion. Anatomically, each of us has a head, a heart, and hands (HHH). Symbolically, these parts of the human body represent the capacity to ¯ know, to feel and to act. In the field of education, the concern for growth of the whole person is spoken of in terms of developing the cognitive, affective and behavioral domains. On a community level, these elements might be described as common beliefs, common sentiments and a common life-style. In~ofar as there i~ harmony (congruence) among these various . components, there is a sense of integration and peace; when these elements contradict each other or are unrelated, the result will be one of varying degrees of conflict and tension. Looking more ~losely at the personal level, we can discover the inter-relationships among the various elements seeking integration. Through cognitive powers we search out the truth, often at a high cost: ¯. who has given up much that he loved and prized and could have retained, but that he loved honesty better than name, and Truth better than dear friends,2 The consequence of living in the truth, as St. John's gospel points out, is that it leads to freedom: the truth makes us free while ignorance en,slaves and issues in fears. We were born to see reality in its deepest dimensions 2John Henry Cardinal Newman, Apologia Pro Vita Sua (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1956), p. 1 I. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 25 and to act on the knowledge discovered there. Carl Jung in his autobiog-raphy shares a universal principle that deals with the relationship between knowledge and action: It is equally a grave mistake to think that it is enough to gain the understanding of the images and that kn.owledge can here mak.e a halt. Insight into them must be converted ifito an ethical obligation.3 It is through the cognit.ive capacities of reason and intuition that insights emerge, concepts and principles are formulated, conclusions are drawn and life is lived. Our creeds, constitutions, journals and discoi~rses attempt to i-ecord our mental travels. Though our perceptions are always limited and our articulations fail to capture the fullness of the reality, yet the extent of our knowledge is amazingly vast. The affective domain, symbolized by the heart, takes us into a rich though complex area of life. Feelings, emotions,, urges, tendencies, and drives are terms attempting to describe some of the powrrful and ambig-uous movements of our affectivity. Here it is that joy and sorrow, panic and calm, anxiety and peace .are experienced in degrees which only our unique person can narrate. Because literature claims for her own the mat-ters of the heart, it has universal appeal. So often the literary genius speaks of the affective level: When your own heart's been broken it will be time for you to think of talking.4 "1 do not know at all," said Martin. "'i should have to be in your heart to know.''3 The relationship between the cognitive and affective domain is complex. During certain periods of life a dichotomy exists between the two. (One calculation measured the distance from head to heart to be two light years!) How many Christians. know intellectually that God loves them and is al-ways present to them and yet do not experience this truth in their hearts? Possession of an accurate and sound theology does not guarantee an ex-perience of the heart. With integration between intellectual Conviction and personal affectivity, the distance seems to vanish and there is a mutual support and affirmation. Emerson's insight is profound:. "Our intellectual ¯ and active powers increase with our affection.''~ Truth experienced af-fectively and affections experienced in truth enrich life.7 ~C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections. Recorded and edited by Aniela Jaffe. Translated from the German by Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Book, 1963), pp. 192-193. 4C. S. Lewis, The Great Divorce (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co., Inc., 1946), p. 97. 5The Best Known Works of Voltaire (New York: The Book Leagu~e, 1940), p. 142. 6"Friendship," Essays of Ralph Waldo Emerson (New York: The Book League of America, 1941), p. 65. 7Two comments might be made at this point. Newman's well-known distinction between real and notional knowledge explains the dichotomy in more academic terms. Secondly, in light of the importance of affectivity in human and spiritual living~ our educational institutions must more systematically attempt to educate the affective area of life as well as the intellectual. 26 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 The old line, "Do as I say, not as I do!" draws attention to the third ingredient in personal and communal life, behavior. The question arises: do the words that I speak and the actions I perform truly express what is in my mind and heart? Do I live out my beliefs and values? Disintegration is experienced when a discrepancy exists between what I know to be true intellectually and a life-style that contradicts this truth, or when a dis-crepancy arises between that life-style and what I am feeling at the gut level. Every day life provides examples of such discrepancies: to know that a certain substance (alcohol) is dangerous in certain quantities and yet con-tinue to drink; to prize physical fitness as an important value and yet never take tim~ to exercise; to yearn for intimacyowith a loving God and never take time for prayer. Integration is realized when we channel into behavior our limited time and energy in such a way that this behavior parallels our thinking and feeling. A single stream is formed, a stream that contains truth, beauty and goodness. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation The new rite of the sacrament of reconciliation delineates four basic and essential components: contrition, confession, satisfaction and absolution. These four elements directly foster both personal and communal integra-tion. The sacrament is the means by which the Lord Jesus makes us whole, healing the division within each person and the communal fragmentation resulting from injustice and apathy. The new rite speaks to the head, the heart and the hands, to the whole person. ~ In the new ritual, contrition is described as "a profound change of the whole person by which one begins to consider, judge and arrange his life according to the holiness and love of God" (Ritual, ~6). This is a call to integration, to put our lives together with God's help and to continue to grow in his gracious love. This process of growth implies an openness to God's word which transforms and molds us. It means that, as a pilgrim people, our lives are always in process and stand in need of conversion. Minimal self-knowledge exposes the dark areas of our life where selfishness flourishes and superficial change predominates. The new rite speaks of contrition as something that goes down to the very depth of our person, radically touching our ideas, attitudes and conduct. Integration is only possible at this level. Though conversion is a gradual process involving grace, time and en-ergy, it is not meant to be piecemeal. God calls the whole, person, not just one aspect of life. This realization helps to protect the unity of the person and implies that what affects one area of life will affect, if not immediately at least eventually, every other area. The ritual spells out the process of conversion as it touches upon three components of integration explained earlier: 1) Consideration. We are challenged to use our cognitive abilities to consider how our personal and communal lives measure up to the holiness Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 27 and love of God. 2) Judgment. After deliberation, we draw conclusions about how to improve our response to God and his will, employing the richness of our affectivity to sustain and give dynamism to that response. 3) Arranging life. Authentic contrition means that our life-style, what we say~and how we say it, the kinds and quality of our relationships, the reaching out to others, must at certain points be adjusted and modified. This broad, panoramic view of contrition challenges both the inner and outer man. The sacrament of reconciliation calls the whole person to turn to the living and true God in hope and fidelity. Confession, the second main component in the new rite, "comes from true knowledge of self before God and from contrition for those sins" (Ritual, ~6). Our sacramental system, concerned as it is with the covenant relationship between God and man, is obviously person-centered. It in-volves our worship of the person of our gracious Father, a deep partic-ipation in the paschal mystery of our Lord Jesus, the giftedness of peace and joy flowing from the Spirit. The trinitarian God is the core of all the sacraments. The challenge is to come to an even deeper knowledge of the living God, and from this perspective, to achieve our true identity. The crucial role of the scriptures becomes obvious in this framework. In God's word we find the revelation of his love and forgiveness; we enter into the rich world of faith. Cognitively we discover the reality of God's love which is the truth that creates freedom. Experiential knowledge of this most central fact necessarily touches the deepest affections of the heart. We are stirred interiorly to respond with our whole lives to this gaze of love. The canticle of Mary is a confession of being loved: My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior for he has looked with favor on his lowly servant,a True affective knowledge works its way into the behavioral domain. Our life becomes different; our words and deeds originate from the wellspring of God's mercy and goodness. The confessing of sins will thus involve the whole person: what we know, what we feel, what we have done and will do. Confessing both expresses and promotes integration. Satisfaction or the act of penance is the third important element in the new rite. In a special way satisfaction reaches beyond the notion of per-sonal integration to embrace the larger community. In doing the truth, in correcting injustices, in serving more deepiy, we implicitly call others to witness and experience the newly gained integration of our own lives. The Roman Ritual states: "true conversion is completed by acts of penance or satisfaction for the sins committed, by amendment of conduct, by repara-tion of injury., to restore order"'(Ritual, #6c). Integration implies and aLuke 1:46. 21~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 necessitates order. Wholeness exists when things are in place just as frag-mentation is experienced in chaos. In a sense, sin is being "out of place." In Gibson's play The Miracle Worker, Annie Sullivan, the teacher of Helen Keller, speaks to herself in a mirror: '~Don't worry. They'll find you, you're not lost. Only out of place." The "hound of heaven" pursues us when we lose our way in the darkness of sin; in being captured by mercy and love, the Lord relocates us in the plan of the Father. For true satisfaction we must be aware and understand that the proper order of things has been broken (cognitive element); we must interiorly feel and be concerned about the anguish and restlessness caused by sin in our lives and the lives of those we touch (affective element); with God's. grace we must reconstruct the harmony shattered by our infidelity (behavorial element). This whole process of reconciliation is no abstract, nebulous role playing; it touches the core of our lives. It is based on fact and experience. Though somewhat overstated, Carl Jung's reflection that "in religious mat-ters only experience counted" does express the seriousness surrounding the sacrament of reconciliation. Satisfaction, the acting out of heartfelt sorrow in°experience, is a vital integrative force restoring that order that leads to justice and peace. Absolution is the fourth main element in the celebration of God's mercy. The new formula of absolution contains a wealth of theology, deserving in its own right a detailed explication. The minister, representing the Risen Lord and the Church, prays: God, the Father of mercies. through the death and resurrection of his Son,. has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace. And ! absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. The wholb person is drawn to respond to this majestic oration. The mind is nourished with the experience of a merciful God, with the marvel of the paschal mystery, with the fact of the instrumentality of the Church, with the knowledge that pardon and peace are gifts from God, with the under-standing that all three persons of the Trinity heal the sickness of the person. These insights liberate us from false fears and narrow slaveries, enlighten the darkness of our minds and enrich our faith, foster wisdom, allowing us to see what is truly essential and worthwhile. Our affectivity is also nour-ished by this prayer of absolution. Our heart is touched by the revelation of God's love and graciousness, by the joy of reconciliation, by the dis-pelling of anxiety and guilt, by the calmness of peace and pardon. The sacrament intends to soften the hardness of heart and to foster the gen-tleness that alone brings life. Full, active and conscious participation in Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 29 this encounter with the Risen Lord abets a richer, affective life. Integration proves itself in action and the prayer of absolution necessarily includes Christian living; it touches the transformation of our truths and feelings into words and deeds. The absolution formula provides an example of what forgiveness is, thus challenging us to forgive each other as God forgives us. We are called to participate in the death-resurrection of Christ in our daily lives, dying to our selfishness in being for others. Through the gift of the Spirit, we are empowered to enrich the world by sharing the Spirit's love, joy and peace. Our lives are different when we recognize experientially the price of our sins: the cross. The shadow of the cross calls us to repent and to believe. The prayer of absolution is a prayer leading us to authenticity. It provides the vision that harmonizes our visible life of daily conduct with the new mind and heart we have put on in Christ. Integration and the Holy Spirit The possibility of Christian integration is based on the gift of Spirit. The Risen Lord in union with the Father sends their Spirit into the world to complete the work of redemption. Through the sacrament of reconciliation this work of restoration takes on visibility and becomes efficacious in the lives of those who believe. The Spirit directs us in .our struggle toward oneness within ourselves and among all people. Within the framework of the HHH Principle, we can examine the role of the Spirit in the process of integration. The tradition of the Church points out that there are four gifts of the Spirit that aid the intellectual and faith growth of God's people: wisdom, knowledge, counsel and understanding. Through these "cognitive" gifts we contend with the ever-present forces of folly, ignorance, rashness and dullness of mind. God, coming to the aid of our finite minds, supplements our ability to grasp truth through the personal Light of his presence. The heart, often bruised and broken, also stands in need of special gifts. Through the Pentecost event, fortitude, piety and fear of the Lord are offered as powerfui nutrients enriching our affectivity. Thus we are enabled to stand firm in the face of fear, to struggle valiantly against hardness of heart and acedia, to deal honestly with the arrogance of pride seeking to remove God from the center of life. In the sacrament of reconciliation, these gifts are available with the coming of the Spirit. But discernment is a difficult task ih life. How do we know whether or not we are growing in the Lord? Are we really allowing the mind and heart of Christ to influence our lives? What are the signs of health and illness in our Christian lives? Through the writings of St. Paul, God has given us an evaluation system to aid us in testing the quality of Christian growth. In his letter to the Galatians, Paul spells out the evidence indicating the spirit of evil and the Spirit of God. If the signs of God's Spirit are present, we have some assurance that we are doing the will of the Father and that the gifts 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 of the Spirit are truly effective in our words and deeds. If the opposite signs are present, we are provided with some hard evidence that we are failing in our Christian responsibilities. Paul writes: But when you follow your own wrong inclinations your lives will produce these evil results: impure thoughts, eagerness for lustful pleasure, idolatry, hatred and fighting, jealousy and anger, constant effort to get the best for yourself, complaints and crit-icisms, the feeling that everyone else is wrong except those in your own little group~ and there will be wrong doctrine, envy, murder, drunkenness, wild parties, and all that sort of thing . But when the Holy Spirit controls our lives he will produce this kind of fruit in us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gen-tleness and self-control? Conclusion The revision of the sacrament of reconciliation provides the contem-porary Church with a process and vision to bring about the oneness we all desire. Unity is something intrinsic to our lives. William Lynch beautifully expresses this need in every.person: What I want first to propose, as a sort of working point of discussion, is that the very deepest need the pe6ple have is the need for closenenss to, union with, things and persons and God. This principle underlies every need of man. It is not a luxury or a gimmick. It is fundamental, primitive; eternal and universal . Everybody knows, when it is put in his language, that real solitude is hell and that unity is peace)° The sacrament of reconciliation deals directly with that aspect of our life which obstructs and prohibits unity: the reality of sin. The great marvel is that God's love and mercy have conquered sin and death and through the sacrament of reconciliation bring us in touch with this victory of God. A schematic summary of this article might appear as follows: A. God's initiative: the call to justice love (lived out fully in the person of Jesus) faith B. Mankind's response: so much injustice / apathy / faithlessness (mystery of sin) C. Jesus came to reconcile all creation to the Father---continues to come in their Spirit to heal the whole person--to bring about integration Truth overcomes falsity Beauty overcomes ugliness Goodness overcomes evil Head Heart Hand Gifts of wisdom, knowledge, counsel understanding Gifts of piety, fortitude, fear of the Lord Signs: love, joy, peace, patience, kind-ness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. D. Result: Oneness with the Father through Christ in the Spirit. Wholeness, union, sanctity,' integration. gGalatians 5:19-23. ~°William F. Lynch, S.J. The Integrating Mind (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1962), pp. 134-135. Integration and the Sacrament of Reconciliation / 31 A growing appreciation of the depth and breadth of the sacrament of reconciliation is important if we are to fully enter into this great gift. The revised rite provides us with many advantages: the stress and variety of scripture, the personal touch with the face-to-face option, the emphasis on the communal nature of sin, the demand for authentic conversion, the joyful tone of celebrating God's mercy and love and not getting caught up in oneself. Our challenge is to understand as fully as possible the meaning of the sacrament and to experience its tremendous force in our personal and communal lives. .0 Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 To Make Good Again: A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation Mary Colurnba Offerman, P,B.V.M. Sister Mary Columba, a librarian, has contributed other bibliographies to these pages. She resides at 2360 Carter Rd.: Dubuque, IA 52001. The word reconciliation evokes many meanings. Its primary meaning is "to make good again" or "to restore." The need of reconciliation pre-supposes that some harmony has been violated or disrupted. Many times man has broken his bond with G~d. Man must choose to be reconciled completely. God's plan for the return to complete harmony involves God himself, man, his neighbor and his community. When God created the universe everything was good. The psalmist tells us that every-thing existed in harmony, peace. Man misused his power to be steward over God's creation. The way to restore peace and unity with God, our neighbor and our world is through repentance, conversion and reconciliation. There are various levels of reconciliation. There is a reconciliation with God and a reconciliation with one's fellowman. Reconciliation for the Catholic Church entails the relationships of the Church with other churches. Reconciliation Within society is required when we have differ-ences due to race, nation, class, degrees of economic and social devel-opment. Every person's life is filled with numerous calls to reconciliation. Oppor-tunities arise daily when we can reconcile with .brothers, neighbors and those around us. Reconciliation begins at home. By turning towards God, our Father, we can become aware of how little we are without him, we can 32 To Make Good Aga. in: A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation realize the worth of each individual and our own personal worth in his eyes and create situations that promote cooperation and sharing. We can ob-serve God's goodness in all the events of life. The recent Holy Year of 1975 offers opportunities for reflection on those things and happenings that direct us toward Christ and the eternal reward of heaven. We had many occasions to be more concerned with our interior or spiritual life, rather than with the exterior and materialistic things of life. That year of reconciliation called us to promote works of charity, to do penance and to perform works of piety. The Holy Year theme of renewa[ and reconciliation has been an in-vitation to respond to interior renewal in order to become better instru-ments of reconciliation with God, neighbor and the world. By developing a true spirit of joy, compassion and kindness and by using our creative instincts, our love for life and for our fellowmen will contribute to holier years to come. The Church expects much of the religious man and woman. Religious have been urged to reflect on their way of life as this was asked of them by Vatican Council II. We are reminded to persevere in faithfulness to prayer, becoming more perfect followers of Christ and a radiation of joy in carrying the crosses that cannot be separated from our state in life. On each religious community rests its future destiny. The living out of the vows from day to day frees us to be a sign of reconciliation. The ministries of the religious woman have taken many forms. Some are in education, others turn to .nursing and still others perform one of the ministries of service which has emerged recently. The ministry which is chosen will become a healing ministry if the religious is a person of rec-onciliation, deeply rooted in Christ and proclaims him as her Lord and Master. How do we make our ministry h service of reconciliation? By being a peacemaker among the students, parents' and those with whom we work, by being more prayerful, reflecting on the gospels and on spiritual' reading, by showing enthusiasm, uniting our sufferings to those of Christ, by consoling, developing ,a spirit of forgiveness, "to come away from each new grief without bitterness in continuing service, to see no one as an enemy and everyone as worthy of my service. Such are the realities of reconciliation. And they are reflected in thequiet dignity ofa fai.th-filled valiant woman.''1 In an article on teaching children about reconciliation, Rod Brownfield says, "If they come to appreciate more their own worth as friends of God, loved individually for their own lovable selves, if they come to see all the material world as gifts for their use and for their sharing, if they come to appreciate other human beings, as images of God loved by God; if they learn the spirit of awe and reverence for a generous Father; if they come to qennings, Sister Vivien, O.P., The Valiant Woman (New York: Alba House. 1974), p. 33. 34 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 want to mend what is broken and right what is wrong; if they can pray as they experience the good gifts about them; if they promote peace among themselves, their religion is a reality, reconciliation is going on and the kingdom of God is nearer.''z This could be our goal and we wou~d be striving to "make good again." Our relationship with God would be renewed or strengthened and all would be right with the world and our conscience. The following selected bibliography has been compiled to provide spiritual reading on the topic of "reconciliation." Methods, ideas, exhor-tations, reflections and worthwhile knowledge on "reconciliation" can be acquired from reading these books and periodicals. Thus Pope Paul's ad-monition "to make good again," to reconcile, to renew, will keep the religious woman in touch with her God, in touch with her Church, in touch with her world, her feliowmen and in touch with herself. BIBLIOGRAPHY Books Abbott, Walter, S.J., ed., The Documents of Vatican 11. New York: Herder and Herder, 1966. Bailey. J. Martin, From Wrecks to Reconciliation. New York: Friendship Press, 1969. Paper. Banks, Robert, ed,, Reconciliation and Hope. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974. Barry, David W., Ministry of Reconciliation. New York: Alba House, 1975, Paper. Basset, Bernard, S.J., Guilty. 0 Lord, Yes. 1 Still Go to Confession. Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1975. Burghardt, Walter, J., S.J., Towards Reconci6ation. Washington, D.C.: United States Bishops Conference. 1974. Paper. Elliott, Ralph H., Reconciliation and the New Age. Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1973. Paper. Farrell, Edward, The Father Is Veo' Fond of Me. Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1975. Chapter 3. Surprised In the Spirit. Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1973. Chapter 2. Foley, Leonard, O.F.M., Your Confession: Using the New Rite. Cincinnati: St. Anthony Press, 1975. Paper. Guzie, Tad, What the Modern Catholic Believes About Confession. Chicago: The Thomas More Press, 1974. Paper. Hanson, Michael. O.M.I., and John Maronic'. O.M.I., The Pilgrim's Prayerbook (Holy Year Edition). Belleville, Illinois: Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows, 1974. Pages 25-32; 211-217; 237-287. Haring, Bernard, C.S.S.R., Prayer: The Integration of Faith and Life. Notre Dame, Indiana: Fides Publishers, 1975. Chapter 14. Harkness, Georgia, The Ministry of Reconciliation. New York: Abingdon Press, 1971. Paper. ZBrownfield, Rod. "'The Holy Year That Wasn't,'" The Catechist. IX, No. 3 (November, 1975). 9. To Make Good Again." A Selected Bibliography on Reconciliation / 35 Hellwig, Monika, The Meaning of the Sacraments. Dayton: Pflaum-Standard, 1972. Paper. Hessel, Dieter T., Reconciliation and Conflict: Church Controversy Over Social Involvement. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1969. Paper. Hinnebusch, Paul, O.P,.Friendship In the Lord. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1974. Chapter 6. Praise God! Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, Inc., 1972. Chapter 6; Chapter 23. Hunter, Gordon. When the Walls Come Tumblin' Down. Waco, Texas: Word Books, 1974. Jennings, Sister Vivien, O.P., The Valiant Woman. New York: Alba House, 1974. Chapter I; Chapter 4; Chapter 7. Nelson, John, Dare to Reconcile: Seven Settings For Creating Community. New York: Friendship Press, 1969. Paper. Nouwen. Henri, With Open Hands. Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1972. O'Reilly, James, Reconciliation and Renewal. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1974. Powell, John, S.J. He Touched Me. Chicago: Argus Communications, 1974. Paper. Rabalais, Sister Maria, Come Be Reconciled; Youth Penance Resources. Paramus, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1975. Schillebeeckx, Rev. Edward. O.P. Sacramental Reconciliation. (Concilium Series, Volume 6), New York: Seabury Press, 1971. Sisters of the Presentation, Witness to Love. Dubuque, iowa: Mount Loretto. 1977. Page 24. Stuhlmueller, Rev. Carroll, C.P., Reconciliation: A Biblical Call. Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1975. Paper. Tibbetts, Orlando L., Reconciling Community. Valley Forge: Judson Press, 1969. Torrance, T., Theology In Reconciliation. Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1975. Van Kaam, Adrian, C.S.Sp., Spirituality and the Gentle Life. Denville, New Jersey: Di-mension Books, 1973. Periodicals Abeyasingha, N., "'Penance and the Holy Spirit." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1974, 565-573. America, "'1975: Holy Year of Reconciliation," America, January 11, 1975, 2-6. Baumer, Fred, "'An Hour of Reconciliation," Liturgy. August/September, 1975, 227-231. Bernas, Rev. Casmir, O.C.S.O., "' Reconciliation In Paul,'" The Bible Today. December, 1973, 1395-1400. Brungs, Robert A., S.J., "'Reconciliation: Man-the-Maker and Man-the-Made," Theology Digest. Winter, 1974. 324-333. Bryce, Sister Mary Charles, O.S.B., "'Reconciliation Means Change," Modern Liturgy, February, 1977.8-10. Callahan, William R., "'Reconciliation," National Catholic Reporter, May 16, 1975. 7-8. Cranny, Rev. Titus, "'Renewal, Reconciliation and Christian Unity," Onr Sunday Visitor. January 12, 1975. I. Deutsch, Sister B., "Operation Fervor," Today's Catholic Teacher. February, 1975. 40. Du Charme, Jerome and Gall, "Introducing Young Children to the Experience of Recon-ciliation." Modern Liturgy. February, 1977, 12-13. Every, Robert L., O.P., "'Theology of Reconciliation." Emmanuel. October. 1974, 404-41 I. Fitzgerald, Frances, "'Vietnam Reconciliation," The Atlantic.June. 1974, 14-28. Galluzzi, Alessandro. "Reconciliation Is Main Motive For Holy Year," L'Osservatore Romano, June 28, 1973, 2. Hatton, Sister Vianny, "'The Communal Rite of Reconciliation," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, January, 1975, 12-14. Jolliffe. P,, "'Prayer and Christ's Reconciliation," The Way, January, 1975, 66-76. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Joyce, Sister F., "'Reconciliation and the Teacher," Today's Catholic Teacher. February, 1977, 14, Krol, J. Cardinal, "'Human Rights and Reconciliation," Dimension. Winter, 1974, 148-151. Lynch, J. A. "'Meditation On Reconciliation," Sisters Today, January, 1975, 273-280. Maly, Rev. Eugene H., "'Haggadah,'" The Bible Today. October, 1975, 484-489. Miffletori, Rev. Jack, "'Rites and Lefts of Reconciliation," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy. January, ~975, 23-26. Mossi, Rev. John P. S.J. "'A Reconciliation Service," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, January, 1975, 28-29. "Reconciliation Sevices For Children," Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy. August?September, 1975.25-26, North, Robert, S.J., "Yore Kippur and the Jubilee Year of Reconciliation," Theology Digest, Winter, 1974, 346-59. Notebaart, Rev. James, "'Symbols of Reconciliation." Folk Mass and Modern Liturgy, Janu-ary, 1975, 6-8. Paul VI, "'The Duty of Reconciliation," L'Osservatore Romano. April 18, 1974, I I. __, "Essential Characters of the Holy Year, Central Theme Is Reconciliation." L'Os-servatore Romano. May 17, 1973, 3. __. "'Human Rights and Reconciliation: Statement of Pope Paul VI and the Fathers of the 1974 Synod of Bishops," The Pope Speaks. Winter, 1974, 216-220. __, "'Peace Depends On You, Too," The Pope Speaks. Winter, 1974, 352-354. __, "'Reconciliation With God," L'Osservatore Romano. November 8, 1973, I. __. "'Renewal and Reconciliation," L'Osservatore Romano. June 14, 1973, I. Purdy. William, "'Holy Year and Reconciliation." L'Osservatore Romano. July 26, 1973, 10. Russell, John F., O.Carm., "'Reconciliation a Reflective Expression," Spiritual Lift,. Summer, 1977, 67-72. Saulnier, Rev. William P., "'Reconciliation: Let It Begin With Me," Modern Litargy. February. 1977, 8-10. Schaeffler, Sister Janet, "'Reconciliation Is Growth." The Catechist. November, 1975, 10-11. Schall, James, V., S.J., "'On the Mosl Dangerous Virtue." REVIEW FOR REI,I~OUS, November, 1974, 1301-1308. Seelaus, Vilma, "'Contemplation/Reconciliation/Inner Freedom," Spiritual Life, Summer, 1974.99-105. Senior, Donald, C.P., "'Resurrection and Reconciliation," The Catechist. Winter, 1974, 346-360. Seromik, Gary, "'The Holy Year: Renewal and Reconciliation." The New Covenant, January, 1975, 6-7. Stuhlmueller, Rev. Carroll, C.P., "'Reconciliation With the Old Testament," The Bible Today, October, 1975, 473-484. Wenz, Jack. O.F.M., "'The Cost of Reconciliation: An Interview With Anthony Padovano," St. Anthony Messenger, December, 1974, 14-19. Winiarski, M. "'Reconciliation Assailed, Upheld," National Catholic Reporter, May 13, 1977, 12. Bird With a Broken Wing: Christian Mysticism and Ministry Mar~ Ellen Dougherty, S.S.N.D. Sister Mary Ellen is director of novices for the eastern province of her community, in an interprovincial novitiate in Hinsdale. For this purpose, she is on temporary leave of absence from Notre Dame College in Baltimore where she is associate professor of English. Her present address: 427 S. Clay St.; Hinsdale, IL 60521. In his book A Third Testament, Malcolm Muggeridge says of the con-troversial personality William Blake that he was "sane to the point of sublimity." Blake, considered by some of his contemporaries to be mad and by others to be a mystic, was an early Romhntic English poet and visual artist who reported ea~;y dialogues with the spirits of Socrates, Milton, and Voltaire. At the same time he had the simplicity to urge his readers: To see the Word in a Grain of Sand ¯ And Heaven in a Wild Flower Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand And Etei:nity in an hour. Indicating Blake's creativity and originality, Muggeridge narrates the following incident: On another occasion, he told a visitor he had a great rarity to show him. This turned out to be "a naked figure with a strong body and a short neck--with burning eyes which long for moisture, and a face worthy of a murderer, holding a bloody cup in its clawed, hands, out of which it ~seems ea~ger to drink." "But what is it?" his visitor asked. "It is a ghost, sir," Blake replied. "The ghost of a flea~a spiritualization the thing!" Whether Blake was mystical or mad (o.r both), debates about him do suggest some of the standard tensions about mysticism. In current society, 37 31~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 sanity is one thing, sublimity another. Fleas do not have ghosts. As a result of lived history and the statements of Vatican II to religious, monastic traditions in most apostolic orders have diminished. There has been, concommitantly, an increasing emphasis on service. Many religious orders, at one time known for a single apostolic commitment, now embrace multiple commitments. Dress, daily orders, life-styles are frequently and often wisely subordinated to apostolates. There is a fresh and creative view of the needs of the Church. Ministry is a command. Any simple analysis of apostolic theology would indeed be simplistic. The practical effects are complex, and their reverberations are not totally without irony. For example, while contemplatives sometimes struggle to justify their existence to themselves, members of apostolic orders con-sistently apply for transfer to the cloister. Contemplative groups experi-ment with appropriate ways to expand a ministerial dimension, while apos-tolic religious seek credible ways to circumscribe activity with prayer. In this, there is more than just an intimation of the traditional contempla-tion- action dilemma. There are implicit questions about the authenticity of mysticism in this apostolic age. We return again to fleas and ghosts. Recently in the Chicago Tribune a cartoon entitled "The Now Society" featured a young man and woman seated casually at a cafe table. She is saying to him, "Oh sure, I've felt funny a couple of times, but I can't honestly say I've had a mystical experience." In popular concept, mysti-cism is often characterized by a withdrawal from reality. It is connected with everything from marijuana to sunsets. Even among serious thinkers, it is somewhat suspect as a way of prayer for a Christian, especially for apostolic religious. I have met more than one competent spiritual director who will not encourage directees of apostolic orders to contemplative prayer, even when they are so inclined, on the grounds that it is generally incompatible with their responsibilities. This, it seems to me, is a mis-understanding of contemplative prayer. In his book The Still Point William Johnston, S.J., speaks of Christian mysticism. He says: ¯ . . in the long process which precedes the canonization of a Christian saint, the Church never asks about the profundity of his enlightenment or the depths of his mysticism, but only about his practice of heroic charity; traditionally, mysticism is valued only as a means to something more imporlant--namely, the charity which is the center of the gospel message. When this charity expresses itself in mystical experience (that is, when the love of God becomes so violent that it drives the soul down into its very center in mystical darkness and existential abandonment of thought), then it is inestimably precious. On the other hand, he says, "Granted this . everyone must recognize that deep contemplative prayer is indeed a way (and perhaps the best way) to Christian charity . " The purpose of this article is not to describe the contemplative ex-perience that Father Johnston speaks of. There are numerous experts, Bird With a Broken Wing including Father Johnston, who do this well, namely Thomas Merton, and Evelyn Underhill, as well as more traditional writers like Tanqueray and Poulain, and, of course, saints like Theresa of Avila and John of the Cross. The purpose here is to suggest some of the practical effects of Christian mystical prayer, whether it is occurring in the life of a contemplative or an apostolic religious, to show that it is a way to the active "charity which is the center of the gospel message," to indicate that sanity and sublimity can coexist. Here, then, references to mysticism are meant to apply to the Christian tradition, not to other forms of mystical prayer. Mystical prayer as a way to ministry is verified if we look at the lives of those whose mysticism is judged by history and the Church to be authentic. If we focus not so much on their experiences in prayer as on the fruits of their experiences (their practices of heroic charity), we will see that they are concerned not with looking or sounding like mystics, or even with being mystics, but with acting out of their experiences, in accord with some call to service. St. Theresa of Avila, for example, steadily confirms this. As she grew in mystical graces, she grew in active service to the Church, and to her Order. One has only to read the works of St. Theresa to see that she is an assertive, energetic woman. Throughout her writings she integrates steadily emotional response with idea and daily experience. Unlike her companion mystic, St~ John of the Cross, whose prose is as austere as his message, and whose poetry is charged quietly with passion (and who, in his own life, apparently integrated the two), Theresa is never a writer of academic prose, or a poet. She is a narrator of the spiritual life whose warmth and intelli-gence fuse into an explication of mystical experience that is as loosely personal as it is loosely objective. She says in her autobiography ". sometimes love makes me foolish." In her prose we read of the pain, the joy, the humor of this foolish lover. We read, too, the history of mystical prayer as Theresa knew it, as well as the history of an active woman who believes firmly, as she tells us in the Interior Castle, that "what the Lord desires is works." Theresa's mission was to reform. And so she did. Theresa took the Carmelite habit at the Convent of the Incarnation in Avila at the age of twenty-one. It was approximately twenty years later that she experienced her first visions and locutions (after, as she tells us, going for the first fourteen years as a religious unable to pray without a book). In her early forties, then, she experiences mystical graces with some regu-larity. It is interesting to note that it is at this same time that she first engages in discussion about the reform of her order. It is at the age of forty-seven that she establishes the daring (and some might say devious) foundation of the convent of St. Joseph in Avila, a beginning that was to launch significant reform in religious life in the Church. At the age of fifty she completes the final version of her autobiography (written, as most of her works were, under obedience), and she begins The Way of Perfection. Both of these 40 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 works, especially the second, reflect a woman of deep contemplative prayer, and the recipient of significant, mystical graces. 'They lack, how-ever, the clarity and totality about the mystical life that is evidenced in The Interior Castle. It would seem fair to assume that between the composition of The Way of'Perfection and The Interior Castle Theresa's own experi-ences in prayer matured and expanded, so that clarity and totality were possible. The latter work is a portrait of a mystic Who has experiential knowledge ofeverything from the prayer of quiet to. the spiritual marriage, and who is thus able to order her observations in readable fashion. It is in this~work that she tells us, quite practically, that."perfection consists not in consolations but in the increase of love," and that "love exists not in the extent~of our .happiness but in the firmness of our determination to try to please God." It is here thb.t she. reminds us that "God's will is that no bounds should be set to his works." Theresa, herself, during these years, set no bounds. It was at this time, the interim betwee.n, these written works, that the bulk Of her endeavors for. reform occurs. In The Interior Castle Theresa says, '.'When I think of myself, ! feel like a bird with a broken wing . " Nevertheless, before her death at the age of sixty seven, this bird with the broken wing was responsible for the foundation of more than a dozen Reform convents; she served several terms .as prioress; she acted unofficially as spiritual director for many priests and sisters (for women in those days the role had to be unofficial); she was the author of several solid volumes on the spiritual life. And she was a mystic. One could do a similar, profile of St. John of the Cross, to the same effect. He died at the age of forty-nine, after a full life as a 6ontemplative. A prolific and profound writer, he is better known as mystic than he is as theologian, reformer, spiritual director and confessor, administrator. And yet it was these tasks that consumed his energies, that accounted for his imprisonment, poor health, and untimely death. An"accomplished poet ,whose lyrics reveal the mysterious rhythm of his spirit, he was also a writer 6f practical pros~e. He was capable of mystical poetry that was ap-propriately elusive and at the same time concrete: When the breeze blew from the turret Parting his hair He wounded my neck, With his gentle hand . He was also the author of stark precepts: "Endeavor to be inclined always not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most .delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasan,t; . desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness, and poverty" . .I.n poetry and precept, he, too, knew that what the Lord desires is works. ¯ St. Ignatius of Loyola, another man of action~ demonstrated, too, the compatibility between mysticism and ministry. Unlike the Carmelites Bird With a Broken Wing / 111 Theresa and John whose actions seemed to flow from their mysticism, Ignatius' mystical experience, it seems to me, emerged from his action. In all three of these saints, there was, nevertheless, a mutuality between prayer and service. On a more contemporary scene we have Thomas Mer-ton who~e last years, and last books, suggest, too, a proportionate growth between contemplation and outward reach. The point seems evident. An authentic mystical experience does not begin and end in itself, nor does it begin and end in self and God. While a genuine encounter of this sort will, as St. Theresa tells us in the sixth mansion of The Interior Castle, create an ambivalence (on the one hand, the soul seeks much solitude; on the other "it would like to plunge right into the heart of the world . ") the final option is usually for service. In the seventh mansion, the ultimate of the mystical life, St. Theresa says of mystics, '~They have now ari unusually strong desire to serve Him . So what they desire.now is not merely not to die [the "delectable pain" of the sixth mansion was accompanied by a desire for death, and thus union] but to live for a great many years and to suffer the severest trials, if by so doing they can become the means whereby the Lord is praised." To "become the means" is perhaps what Christian mysticism is all about. Itis what prayer is all about. Whatever methods God chooses to use in cultivating us as his ~means is not the issue. Whether our prayer is like the songs of Blake on his deathbed ("They're not mine, you know. They're not-mine,''~ he said, implying, again, a current of mystical grace), or whether our prayer is the solid, structured meditation of prelude and point does not matter. Whether we are contemplatives seeking to clarify our service, or apostolic religious trying t.o deepen our action by prayer, perhaps does ri'ot matter either. It seems as erroneoog to say that all mysticism is an evasion of reality as.it is to say that we are all c~alled to be. mystics. Service is no more a contradiction in the life of a Christian mystic than mysticism is in ¯ the life Of an apo.stolic religious. History defies such.myths. It seems clear that while Christian mysticism ~s alw_ays characterized by service, Christian service need not be rooted in mysticism. It seems, clear, too, then, that the most practical of us in. the Church today have nothing to fear from an increase of Christian mysticism. That would mean, in effect, a fear of an ¯ increase of charity. In the contemporary drama "The Belle 6f Amherst," Julie Harris re-cords sensitively the insight of another poet, Emily Dickinson (no less eccentric than Blake)as she listens intently to a.warbler on a bush. Emily asks, "Why are y~ou singing, when there is no one here to listen?" The. warbler replies, "I was born to sing." With this, Ern, ily is affirmed as a poet. Watching the bird in flight, she says, "I, too, was born to sing.'" And so it is with each of us, whether we sing (or pray) as warbler or poet. Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice Francis X. Meehan Father Meehan is Associate Professor of Moral Theology at St. Charles Borromeo Seminary; Overbrook; Philadelphia, PA 19151. Much has been written recently about theologies of social concern. This article is not an effort to review those theologies. Rather it aims simply to point out some very mainstream considerations on social justice as it per-tains to the Church. Its original context was an ecumenical gathering of Church leaders, and this revision attempts to keep a focus on those social insights that are by now practically consensus teaching. In any consideration of the Church and social justice one must start by citing both the clear problem and the challenge. The problem surely is that we have not been as outstanding as we should have been. Barbara Ward in a booklet written for the Vatican Commission Justice and Peace speaks of guests who are invited to the banquet but have other things to do. She then touches upon the key problem for Christians in developed societies; namely, the problem of not being exposed in any concrete way to massive poverty and of therefore not developing a prophetic voice. She says: In this general climate of indifference, the Christian does not yet stand out as prophet or catalyst. All too many of us aresimply relatively fortunate citizens who., are not exposed to the massive, growing miseries at the base of the world society. We are proving, if proof were needed, that it is very difficult for wealthy societies, like families or individuals, to get through the eye of the needle (The Angry Seventies, p. 61). 42 Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice The Challenge Barbara Ward as an economist devoted to human life has given an example of single-mindedness. Throughout her wril~ing she remains hope-ful. She knows well the challenge yet she sees no reason why the Christian community cannot be a worldwide "catalyst of energy, devotion and re-form." She articulates the challenge in a way that sets the focus of this paper: ¯ . . if, then, with courage and persistence and the energy of true hope, Christian citizens are ready in season and out of season, to lobby legislators, rally voters, instruct fellow citizens, worry the indifferent, encourage the active and create a new kind of justice and world responsibility in the Church and in the nations, the world may be saved from the evident wrath to come (pp. 62-63). Notice she asks for a new kind of justice and world responsibility in the Church. Thus she speaks not merely of giving food to a hungry man, but of "lobbying legislators" and "rallying voters." If we take a look at official Church teachings over a long range, we can see in this past one hundred .years one broad and obvious evolution. It is a movement that is very well summarized in that key article of the Pastoral Constitution: The Church in the Modern World, that underscored social concern: Profound and rapid changes make it l~articularly urgent that no one, ignoring the trend of events or drugged by laziness, content himself with a merely individualistic mo-rality. It grows increasingly true that the obligations of justice and love are fulfilled only if each person . . . promotes and assists the public and private institutions dedicated to bettering the conditions of human life (n. 30). It is fitting that such words should be in a document concerned with the Church's relation with the world. For here, too, there is an evolution of awareness. The Church's moral concern gradually becomes, in the social documents of the last century, not only a concern over individual salvation, but also over the collec.tive future. She recognizes that certain structures of history are man-made and that Christians therefore must have a respon-sibility not only for individual men, but also for structures of history. The Church must not be worldly, but she is in the world and has a responsibility for the world. Perhaps such an evolution could be understood by pointing to one man's autobiography as a metaphor. I think the life of Thomas Merton capsulizes a whole movement of the Church. This journey of the Church is symbolized so very aptly by Merton's monastic journey. It has often struck me that his own evolution as a monk said something to us about a model of holiness in the Church of our day. A recent thesis by Sister Elena Maltis makes this point more systematically.~ She cites Merton writing, in his early work, Waters of Siloe: ~"Thomas Merton: Symbol and Synthesis of Contemporary Catholicism." Critic, Spring, 1977, pp. 26 ff. 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 It [monastic life] takes a man above the terrors and sorrows of modern life as well as above its passing satisfactions. It elevates life to a superhuman level to the peace of the spiritual stratosphere where the storms of human existence become a distant echo and do not disturb the center of the soul--no matter how much they may rage in the senses and the feelings (p. 28). Then she cites the later MertOn who, in his workFaith and Violence, writes with different images of the monastic life: My :own peculiar task in my Church and in my world has been that of the solitary explorer who [instead of jumping on all the latest bandwagons.at once] is bound to search the existential depths of faith in its silences, its ambiguities, and in those certainties which lie deeper than the bottom of anxiety. It is a. kind of submarine life in which faith sometimes mysteriously takes on the aspect of doubt.when, in fact, one has to doubt and reject conventional and superstitious surrogates that have taken the place of faith. (p. 30). Notice holy Mertonno longer conceives of himself as above and beyond the world. He is not in a stratosphere above the terrors and sorrows of modern life, but now, at the bottom of things where the phrase "submarine life" becomes a dominant image. His very spirituality of the 1940's does not cease, but in the 1960's it is a spirituality that takes integrally within itself the role of social criticism. He sums up who we are in the Church today when he says~: That I should have been born in 1915, that I should be the contemporary of Auschwitz; Hiroshima, Viet Nam and the Watts riots, are things about which 1 was not first consulted. Yet they are also events in which, whether I like it or not; I am deeply and personally involved (Contemplation in the World of Action, p. 145). What is central here is not only that a man's spiritual journey should lead him to the welfare of our fellow humans. Indeed this is true of all the saints. But what is central is that now such a spiritual journey leads also to a structural concern for others. Merton is implicated in the world's move-ment. He is, and we are, and the Church is, not only helping others socially in the world as a static theatre, but taking responsibility for the very move-ment of the world itself, for the very milieu of humankind. And the point of this article is that such an hwareness is now flowering in the Church and we ought not to miss it or take it for granted. Perhaps a concrete example will help us see more clearly. In 1830 a French pastor of good will may have courageously preached to factory owners that they must give their wo~kers a living wage. But what he could little understand was what Peter Berger and Thomas Luckman called the "social construc-tion of reality." In other wqrds, reali.ty had been constructed by humans themselves in such a way that ifa converted factory owner did pay a living wage, he would go out of business because of the competition. What was needed was--as we know today--a new construction of reality, namely some empowerment of the workingman through unionization. NotKze that such a new reality had to be created not only to allow workers to achieve . Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice / 45 just wages, but also to allow an employer to pay a just wage while remaining competitive. Such an element of structural justice was recognized by Leo XIII when he said in Rerum Novarum that even though someone made an agreement, such an agreement (contract) could be invalid because of the unequal bar-gaining positions. In Leo's teaching we see the beginnings of an awareness in the Church of the meaning of a structural reality in morality. Justice is denied not only by the individually greedy man, but through the inheritance of circumstances embedded in social systems. Application to Ministry In the last eighty years such an insight has developed richly in Church teaching. John XXIII in Mater et Magistra and Paul VI in Populorum Progressio applied the teachings to inequalities inherent in relations with the Third World. There have even been some high points of pastoral ap-plication in the Church. For example it remains the glory of the American Church that she (unlike some of her European sister-Churches) did by and large keep faith with the immigrant workers in her midst. Yet while the insight is old enough to trace to even before Leo, it nevertheless remains a new insight in need of fresh application in many areas of social concern. Most of all it calls for fresh application in the Church's ministry. Ministry must concern itself not only over individual conversion, not only over healing hearts, but also over healing structures. Otherwise the healed heart will be unable to inscribe its fruit of justice on the world itself. In Reinhold Niebuhr's classic terms, "moral man" ~will remain powerless and ineffectual in an "immoral society." The word structure is not always an easy term to understand, It has many meanings in many contexts. A helpful articulation of a meaning sufficient for our purposes here is one given in the statement of the Appa-lachian Bishops. They speak of how the forces of corporate giants become perverted, and destructive growth patterns develop.The principle of ~'max-imization of profit" becomes an idolatrous power. Then they give a clear understanding of what an evil structure does: This power overwhelms the good intentions of noble people, it forces them to com-pete brutally with one another. It pushes people into "conspicuous consumption" and planned obsolescence. It delivers up control to a tiny minority whose values then shape our social structures. Then they point out how difficult it is for good individuals to change things when structures militate against change. We know that there are many sincere business people, zealous reporters, truthful teachers, honest law enforcement officers, dedicated public officials, hard working lawyers and legislators, who try to do a good job. But we know too that, the Way things are set up, it's hard for good people to do a good job. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Such an insight by the bishops into structural evil corresponds to con-temporary insights into scriptural understandings of the powers of evil. The simple phrase, ~'. the way things are set up, it's hard for good people to do a good job," is a perfect way to describe what theologians today mean by "'the situation of sin." So the power of evil becomes autonomous and embeds itself into structures. These structures entrap us. They tend not to draw good from us but to draw out our worst--sometimes despite good will to the contrary. We have what some see here as one perspective on the original-sin tradition in the Church. Obviously, then, the work of redemp-tion, in which Jesus has given his Body the Church a certain share, must include a healing of this history of sin. Thus the very baptismal function of induction into a saving community implies a ministerial work to heal struc-tures. The Domain of Gospel Ministry and Arthur Simon's Parable The foregoing ushers into focus a problem, namely, how can work for structures remain a gospel work and not merely become a social-secular work. Arthur Simon, the founder and leader of Bread for the World, a Christian Citizens Movement for world food resources, tells a parable that helps us understand this problem of placing work for structures into min-istry. The parable is basically this: Once there was a farming town that could be reached by a narrow road with a bad curve in it. There were frequent accidents on the road especially at the curve, and the preacher would preach to the people of the town to make sure they were Good Samaritans. And so they were, as they would pick the people up on the road, for this was a religious work. One day someone, suggested they buy an ambulance to get the accident victims to the town hospital more quickly. The preacher preached and the people gave, for this was a religious work. Then one day a councilman suggested that the town authorize building a wider road and taking out the dangerous curve. Now it happened that the mayor had a farm market right at the curve on the ~oad and he was quite against taking out the curve. Someone asked the preacher to say a word to the mayor and the congregation next Sunday about it. But the preacher and most of the people figured they had better stay out of politics; so next Sunday the preacher preached on the Good Samaritan Gospel and en-couraged the people to continue their fine work of picking up the accident victims. The parable illustrates what Paul Ricoeur says about man's new aware-ness, namely an awareness of being in relationship with others in structured ways, i.e. not merely as "neighbor" but as socius. Father Chenu, the French Dominican, calls it the.new way of charity. He says that man has always been social, but he adds: Today, not accidentally but structurally the collective event lends scope and intensity to the social dimension--human love treads these lasting paths, these organizations Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice / 47 of distributive justice, and these administrative systems (in G. Cottier et al., eds., Eglise et pauvret~, 1965, p. 174). The problem then is very real. When is ministry for life religious and gospel, and when does it become secular? What work for life is natural and what is supernatural? What is gospel and what is humanism? The questions are age-old. And without presuming that the Church today has completely solved the problem, I do think a good part of the answer is already within the Church's official grasp and official teaching. In official meetings and synods, papal and episcopal teachings have addressed the problem and have given us enough of a theological answer to go on. Let us just cite chosen, illustrative texts from the Catholic context. First, the Constitution on the Church in the Modern World has many comments on the subject. But one celebrated sentence is as follows: While we are warned that it profits a man nothing if he gain the whole world and lose himself, the expectation of a new ean.h must not weaken but rather stimulate our concern for cultivating this one . Earthly progress must be carefully distinguished from the growth of Christ's kingdom. Nevertheless, to the extent that the former can contribute to the better ordering of human society, it is of vital concern to the kingdom of God (n. 39). The World Synod of Bishops of 1971 and 1974 both dealt with the problem. The famous statement of 1971 said this: Action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation. And in 1974 Pope Paul after citing the danger of losing the religious di-mension of our mission says this: There is no opposition or separation, therefore, but a complementary relationship between evangelization and human progress. While distinct and subordinate one to the other, each calls for the other by reason of their convergence towards the same end: the salvation of man. The continuity of the two Synods is sharply manifested in the Human Rights document of the '74 Synod. There the Bishops used a theology of the Divine Image and taught that the "integral development of persons" makes clearer in man the divine image. Then they say: Hence, she [the Church] believes firmly that the promotion of human rights is required by the gospel and is central to her ministry. Summarizing this brief set of quotes we can say that healing structures of irreverence for life and of injustice is part of the ministry of the Church because such healing is "of vital concern to the kingdom of God" (Gaudium et Spas), "a constitutive dimension of preaching the Gospel" (Synod '71), "required by the gospel arid central to the Church's ministry" (Synod '74). 41~ / Re~iew for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 Why take time to cite these examples of official documentation? First, awareness that such insights are now mainstream official teachings will keep us from being intimidated by those who would accuse us of humanism or of becoming social agencies. ' But more than that: it is to underscore that the concern for structural justice and the concern to place the struggle for structural justice within the mission of the Church is not merely a concern of a Daniel Berrigan, of a Helder Camara, or of a Latin American theologi~an, but rather it is official and central teaching within the Church. Most of all it is a matter of rejoicing that such an insight is found not only in official teaching, but is making its way into the popular religious psyche of our.people. At the Eucharistic Congress, when people struggled to touch Mother Theresa, they were struggling to touch, in this case, not someone known for mystic gifts such as Padre Pio, but someone known for simply picking men up offthe sti'eets of Calcutta. But more than that, the people also welcomed Dom Helder Camara. And those who knew his history, knew that his life has been a different struggle from that of Mother Theresa. Dom Helder symbolizes .not just an enormous interpersonal love for the weak, but also the struggle for justice against systems of dependence and exploitation. Dom Helder in the midst of his talk at the Philadelphia Civic Center walked over, picked up and embraced Mother Theresa. I like to think this embrace was more than a kinship of courageous people. Rather I see a symbol of two forms of ministries-in-the-Church meeting and embracing. And in a way, Dom Hel~ler's emphasis is a struggle that poses the most important challenge to Church leaders. His work is less clear, more risky, more apt to provoke misunderstanding even among one's own people, and yet all the more urgent today. The Problem of .Ambiguiiy Yet this ministry .that attempts to heal structures has a special problem connected with it. I would term it the problem of ambiguity. Many Church leaders can agree that gospel includes work for human life and human rights--even structural work. But they rightly fear choosing certain con-crete options that commit the Church to one economic or political view that may riot be the only valid Christian view. The point of Paul Ramsey'.s work Who Speaks for the Church? was to purify us of easy assumptions that the charism of leadership will lead us to right decisions in the complex area of socio-economic and political affairs. So there is a special need for a humility and tentativeness that, in the words of Paul VI, "will rid action of all inflexibility and sectarianism" (Coming Eightidth n. 48). We do not wish to preach our own ideology, but Christ crucified. So we seek to avoid easy partnership. This is a common caution perhaps needed today. But I would like to accent another side to the issue that sometimes Ministry in the Church and a Structural Concern for Justice goes unaccented. Namely, that not always what appears to be neutral ground is really neutral. And sometimes when the Church refi'ains from taking sides in an issue, for fear of partisanship, she sometimes, willy-nilly, by not taking a side has taken a side. Another way of saying it is simply that sometimes our silence speaks loudly. This may not be an everyday occa-sion, but it does happen that situations become radicalized to the point where there just is not ample neutral ground in which a large institution can find room. Historical examples may be easiest here. In the Germany of th~ 1930's was there a political neutral ground? Can we not at least in hindsight recognize that what looked like neutral ground was not so neutral? There was a personal heroism of many priests, ministers and bishops, yet in the episcopal statements of the German hierarchy (in the words of Gordon Zahn) there was "not even a hint of any question, of whether or not the Hitler war effort met the conditions set for a 'just war' " (cited in Paul Hanley Furfey, The Morality Gap, p. 13). Another example. In the bombings of Hamburg of July-August, 1943, the dead numbered 30,000. The raids on Dresden of February, 1945 killed some 135,000. On March 9 and 10 the raids over a four mile residential district of Tokyo are estimated to have killed 84,000. On August 6 and 9 the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki killed an estimated 68,000 and 38,000 respectively. My point here is that the killing of noncombatants was even at that time, clearly recognized as evil. Yet one can find no significant corporate criticism of these actions. Moreover, despite Pius XlI's pleas to statesmen for a negotiated peace, no official Catholic spokesmen gave sustained'protest against the allied policy of unconditional surrender--an omission John Courtney Murray called a "classic example" of a failure to apply moral principles. ¯ A third example concerns racism and segregation in this country. It could be summed up in a symbol. The symbol is contained in the words of Leander Perez, political boss of Plaquemines Parish in New Orleans. He was, you may remember, the man excommunicated for his opposition to the integration of the parochial schools (a courageous act .ot~ Archbishop Rum-mel). But Perez' comment was "How come we could have slaves, separate schools and churches for these Negroes for ages and ages and now all of a sudden it's a sin?" (see Paul Hanley Furfey, The Morality Gap). The point in all of these questions is not historical Monday morning quarterbacking. Indeed even at the time of these incidents there were clear teachings already in the mainstream of Catholic thought--teachings that were not applied. The point is that the Church took stances that at the time m. ay have seemed to be stances of moderation or may have seemed to be prudent neutral ground. But now we know they were not, Rather they appear to have been examples of an immigrant Church so anxious to be " established that it became absorbed in the zeitgeist of the times, and so lost its prophetic voice. 50 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/1 The main point is this: we may be right in our anxiety that the Church not be pulled into partisan blocs, in our anxiety not to provoke undue division in the Church by too quickly identifying one social option as the gospel option. But we must be careful not to allow this anxiety to bring us to a silence that really is an unwitting speaking in behalf of the status quo. There is a corollary to this problem. It concerns the matter of com-petefice. Often times it is stated that the Church or a churchman cannot speak on an issue because it is so complex and specialized. Surely we must be careful of easy and abrupt position-taking in the complex areas of so-ciooeconomics and international politics. But the deeper question must always be asked. Namely why is it that at times we choose certain areas in which to be competent, to research care-fully and to locate manpower and resources and other areas in which we do not? We must always ask ourselves what might be our cultural and theo-logical biases that predispose us to give certain questions a priority. Too many good Germans said they could not protest because, after all, they really did not know enough. Dualisms That Lead to Neglect Sometimes a certain idea about ministry can lead a man of good will to neglect a certain gospel reverence for life. For example, I am sure that the chaplains of institutions in which recent press releases have exposed cruel treatment would be men of good will. But if they observed some of the same things newspaper reporters saw, and if they did not complain in any effec-tive way, we must ask how did they conceive their ministry? What kind of dualisms between soul and body, between spiritual and physical, between creation and redemption must have been going on in their understanding of ministry? Has speaking in behalf of ill-treated mental patients, ill-treated children, ill-treated elderly in profit:making nursing homes, ill-treated pris-oners, ill-treated h

Part one of an interview with Dorothy Giadone Poirier. Topics include: Where in Italy her grandparents came from and what they were like. Her father's work history. What her parents were like. The foods her mother would prepare. What her parents thought when Dottie's first marriage ended and their acceptance of her new husband. Memories of her family. Dottie is half Italian and half Sicilian. What family meals were like when Dottie was growing up. How Fitchburg, MA has changed over time. Her family moved to Leominster, MA. Her father's activity in the community and in politics. Memories of working in her father's furniture store. How her father got into the business. What it was like when her father passed away. What the customers were like at the furniture store. ; 1 DOTTIE: Oh, I bumped into her a lot at [Shritzer] or whatever. SPEAKER 1: [Unintelligible - 00:00:09]. DOTTIE: Joe and Alice. SPEAKER 1: Mm-hmm. DOTTIE: A lot of times they say well, come by and have a drink before, and I say no I'm going out. Uh, so I met him in the parking lot, and he said you better not say you can't meet -- you can't come for breakfast. Oh, I says, no. I'll be there. SPEAKER 1: Okay. [Unintelligible - 00:00:27] with the Center for Italian Culture 1002, and being interviewed five minutes of eleven. So thank you, Dottie. DOTTIE: Pleasure. SPEAKER 1: So you were telling me a little bit about your father, your father Bill Giadone. DOTTIE: Yes. Yes. SPEAKER 1: And just how influential he was in Fitchburg. DOTTIE: Very, very. SPEAKER 1: Mm-hmm. Can you tell me a little bit? Mm-hmm. LINDAY: Oh yes. His grand -- his mother and father both, they were still -- I mean, they didn't die until I was, had -- I was a young adult. SPEAKER 1: Mm-hmm. DOTTIE: Uh, his father was a very typical Italian, very stern. Mother was the salt of the earth. Just a sweet lady. In fact, one time I made a comment, I says to my husband, "Gee, sorry you didn't meet my grandmother, you would have just adored her." And then I says, "My grandfather—this is no baloney—you would have gotten along good with him." So he was man's man, my grandfather. But as a child, you don't realize that and you became frightened of him. SPEAKER 1: Mm-hmm. DOTTIE: If he said be quiet, be quiet, except my younger sister. SPEAKER 1: Where did they come from? DOTTIE: My grandfather came from a small town in Sicily called [Pepepezzia]. 2 SPEAKER 1: Would you know how to spell…? DOTTIE: [Unintelligible - 00:01:43]. SPEAKER 1: Okay. So he came from Sicily? DOTTIE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: What about your grandma? DOTTIE: My grandmother also. They were both -- came over. I'm not sure of the exact -- well, maybe if we kind of -- my father was born in 1908, and he came here when he was six years old. So that was 1913? SPEAKER 1: Fourteen. DOTTIE: Fourteen, yeah. So that's when they came here. And they settled in Fitchburg, but I'm not sure exactly where they -- well, I guess at one time they lived on Hale Street when they were kids. I mean, I don't remember. I mean, back when my father was a kid. And my father went to -- I think he went to start the sixth grade, and then he left, and he worked around here in a bakery shop, I guess. I think it was Padua. And when he was 15, 16 years old, he [unintelligible - 00:02:40] something for a young fella to do that. And, I guess he went with some fellas, his friends from the area, and they got an apartment. And the reason he started shaving with a straight razor, which because every time he went to shave his razors were gone or dull or whatever. So he says I'll fix them. I'm going to learn how to shave with a straight razor. So he shaved with a straight razor up until the time he got an electric razor. SPEAKER 1: Really. DOTTIE: Yeah. So as a kid growing up, he shaved with a -- he had the strap and he shaved with a straight razor. SPEAKER 1: So you remember watching him do that? DOTTIE: Yes. Yes. And then he said that he worked his way up to bellboy, bell captain. He worked for the Yale Club in New York, and he said he got an education there as being a bellboy with the guys from Yale. Also, while he was in New York, he said he only did it for a while because the people were not clean at [unintelligible - 00:04:00]. I guess he tried everything, 3 and he says -- my mother tells the story, and she said, "Well, he gave that up quickly because someone came in that wasn't clean," so your father says, not doing this. So then he came back to Fitchburg for maybe a visit, and at the time they would have dances, and that's how he met my mother. He was running a dance thing. And he started an oil business and married in '32, so almost right away, and he had that oil business -- I want to say until [Audies], and that's when he started a furniture store. Actually, it was -- he was selling appliances. SPEAKER 1: Mm-hmm. Right on Water Street? DOTTIE: Right on Water Street. And then he had a small little store, and then he bought a larger store where we lived. The bottom part was the store, and then upstairs was -- we had a fairly large apartment. SPEAKER 1: And that was at 3 -- 320 Water Street. DOTTIE: 320 Water Street. SPEAKER 1: Now, the oil business that he started, do you remember -- do you know the name of that? DOTTIE: Yes. Giadone's. And then he also had a gas station. SPEAKER 1: Now, how did he get involved in that? Do you know? DOTTIE: I don't remember. All I know is he had the gas station and he also had the oil business. I guess he started the gas business as someplace to put his trucks. So -- and he also, I guess, they delivered ice at the time too. SPEAKER 1: Okay. Do you remember…? DOTTIE: My mother, Fiona [Barzarelli], she was in Fitchburg, and it came from [unintelligible - 00:06:01]. SPEAKER 1: Okay. So they first were connected in New York? DOTTIE: Yeah, that area. That's where -- but she was very young. When she -- my mother had a very, very hard life because her mother was paralyzed, so she had to feed and clothe my grandmother, plus she had to do all the cooking. She had two brothers that she had to do the cooking and cleaning for. SPEAKER 1: And this was in Fitchburg by that time.4 DOTTIE: This was in Fitchburg, yeah. So…. SPEAKER 1: What did her father do? DOTTIE: Her father worked at a foundry in Fitchburg [unintelligible - 00:06:35] another foundry. And he worked in the Fitchburg area. And my grandfather too. I forget where he worked, but he worked in the area. SPEAKER 1: Now, did you know them also? DOTTIE: My grandmother I didn't remember. She died when I think I was two or three years old. I mean, these are the stories that -- Alice would know my grandmother better because she was older. SPEAKER 1: Okay. And Alice…. DOTTIE: Adante, yes. SPEAKER 1: Is she a [unintelligible - 00:06:59]? I don't remember. DOTTIE: Yes. Yes. Her father and my mother were brothers and sisters, so. And we were brought up close. She has -- well, she had -- there's only three now because one passed away. She had four brothers. SPEAKER 1: Okay. DOTTIE: And her mother and my mother were very close even though they were sister-in-laws. So my mother was close with my father's sister also. SPEAKER 1: So your mother had to take care of her mother? What happened when she got married? DOTTIE: Her father lived with us. My grandfather lived with us until I think I was seven or eight years old. I remember him just a little. Then my mother's brother, the other brother, went away and came home with this cousin of theirs, and he lived with us until he passed away. And he was only a cousin, and my mother would get -- 'cause men, you know, have as they get older they get a little sloppier and stuff. So my father would [unintelligible - 00:08:04] a relative. SPEAKER 1: So was that kind of expected back then…? DOTTIE: Yes. Just take care of your mother and father. They lived, like I said, they lived with us. My father, really -- today most men I don't think put up 5 with it. But my mother took care of her parents and her cousin. I mean, they never lived alone as a couple. SPEAKER 1: Ever lived alone? DOTTIE: Nope. Because when they got married she had my grandmother, and then she had my grandfather, and then we got Renaldo, which was her cousin. Excuse me. And then the kids came along. SPEAKER 1: Now, when grandparents live with their daughter or a son, what happens when…? DOTTIE: Well, see I wasn't too young to have known that, but as far as I know it's because of the way my father was. I'm sure he made the decision. When I was -- my grandfather was a very quiet man, my mother's father, so I don't know about the mother, because like I said, I was only two or three when she died, and I don't remember her. She had arthritis; her hands were closed. But my mother said she was a strong lady as far as her personality, because she would stick a broom in her hand, you know, this way, and make sure her bed was made to her satisfaction. And my mother cooked like better than most chefs. SPEAKER 1: Your mother did? DOTTIE: Not even having recipes and stuff, and she would just -- unbelievable. My friends would say, we're going to take you to a restaurant that you're not going to complain about. And I'd say, well, okay. But even today, to this day I go out and I still complain about where we've been and what we've -- you know, the food is not -- like I said, my mother was such a good cook. SPEAKER 1: Give me some examples of what she would cook. DOTTIE: Anything. I mean, we never had -- I mean, I'd come home and her dining room buffet would be covered with all kinds of pastries. I'd go, "Ma, we having company?" And she says, "No, I felt like baking," and she baked, but every night we had some form of pasta, because my father liked a little dish of pasta, or it would be soup or a little dish of spaghetti. But he always had to have his meat and vegetables and salads. We always had a balanced meal, and we didn't even know it because, we'd have the pasta 6 first, and then we'd have meat, and vegetables and we'd have salad last. And we'd have dessert. And that was -- I mean, that's how we ate. I mean, when the holidays came around, I mean, we had a little more, but every -- they would say, do you eat like that all the time? And we'd say, what do you mean? We just took that for granted because that's how my mother cooked. My father didn't like leftovers. So if he had a meeting or something, she would call my friends and say come for supper, and we're having leftovers, and my girlfriend's husband says, Fiona's leftovers are better than most restaurants' first course. So they came. I mean, she'd switch around, right. She'd call Tommy and [unintelligible - 00:11:39] and say come for supper, and my father didn't like beef stew or stuff like that. So if he was going to be away or a meeting or going to go to a convention or something, we would have that when my father wasn't around. So she would do things that. I mean, she pleased my father -- my father came first. If my father -- we would have the store closed at 6:00 so we would have dinner at 6:30. So my father got stuck with a customer, we would not eat until my father came home. So it was -- we had sat down to have dinner every night together. And when I started working at the store and then my father would say, he'd start talking about business and then I'd start clearing the table and my mother would say, "Well, I'm not done." I'd say, "Well, I am," because she would, you know, I would say, "Dad, you know what? You're a great father, but a boss, you leave a lot to be desired." SPEAKER 1: And how did he…? DOTTIE: He laughed. But he was an ace. Oh, you're lucky [unintelligible - 00:12:47]. "What are you, crazy? I can't take a day off." The day off I get is the day I have. I can't take just the day off and tell him I'm going shopping. What are you, crazy? Well, play sick. I live at home. How can I play sick? SPEAKER 1: But you stayed? 7 DOTTIE: Yeah. Stayed there until I got married. So I mean, you do what you do because -- we had a girl working for us, and she would be black and blue because my father would go -- he would start, you know, you didn't do this right, you didn't do that right, and I'd be pitching it because I didn't want to answer him. And so she'd go, "He's your father." I'd go, but he's wrong. I'd be, "Josie, if he's told you this was black and it was white and you would say, 'Yes, Bill, you're right.'" I'd go, "Josie, that's not right." And she'd say, "But he's your father and he's your boss. You've got to say yes," and I'd go, I can't do this. SPEAKER 1: But evidently he liked having you around. DOTTIE: God, yes, because we argued, but we still, you know, he would say, "Well, my daughter will -- she'll pick out the colors for you, and she'll do, you know, whatever," but he was tough. But I loved him dearly. I mean, he was, you know -- my first husband I separated from and I started to date Teddy, and I wasn't really -- your father that you're dating again. You know, I'm in my 30s now, I mean, I'm still -- but you know what they got you over here. SPEAKER 1: [Unintelligible - 00:14:35]? DOTTIE: Yep. So I go and I tell -- I said, "Dad, I'm dating," and he says, "Yes, I know." I mean, who told you? He says nobody. He says your whole personality changed. SPEAKER 1: And he waited for you to say. DOTTIE: Yes. But I, you know, if you think they don't. You think they don't know you but they do. LINSAY: Now, did you move back in with your parents when you got separated? DOTTIE: Yes, I did. But I got separated and I went back home, and then we got together again and we went back to an apartment, and then the second time I just stayed in the apartment. SPEAKER 1: What did your parents think of your getting separated? DOTTIE: Well, they were glad because they didn't really like him. Teddy, they adored. Teddy they adored, because he was wonderful to my parents. He 8 was absolutely -- if he did nothing else for me he was just wonderful to my parents. To me, it was important. I mean, he -- my father called him and said I have to go here. He'd go, "Okay, Bill. When?" and I'll pick you up and whatever. He would do that. And my mother by then was in a nursing home. Before that, he just loved her. So he, you know, would take her out to dinner, and she just loved that, because my father was always busy with other things, and so we'd take her. And she just, you know, she just thought Teddy was -- she'd say, I want to go somewhere that we don't bump into someone he knows, because he was that type of person. If he didn't know someone when we walked into the place, he knew them when we left. That's sure. I actually believe, and the reason it's felt that way is because when -- I think they had a French priest that baptized my mother, and he couldn't -- that was how he felt it. So that's how -- the only other person that has that name is a cousin. SPEAKER 1: And was she named after her? DOTTIE: I think maybe she -- her real name is Virginia. In fact when people refer to her as Virginia… but you knew her as, you know, we always called her [Bunah]. SPEAKER 1: But her first name is Virginia? JENNIEFER: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Okay. DOTTIE: And she was -- her father died before she was born, which was my mother's brother. My mother had two brothers, and the two brothers had large families. Alice comes from -- which there was five and the other was eight. And this last one that was born was the Balderelli, but she never met her father because he died before she was born. The mother was pregnant for him when he died. That's a large family. And my mother's nieces and nephews were all close. They would all stop by and see her -- not every day, but three of the girls were -- I mean, they would come at least once a week to see her. SPEAKER 1: Now, what made them so close?9 DOTTIE: My mother -- one of my mother's niece was getting married and the father didn't approve, so my mother and father did the wedding for them. And for one reason or another, she was -- but even the guys would -- one of the guys worked for my father, and we'd just -- I don't know, I just can't explain it. And my father's family too, we were close, too. I never had any brothers, and my two cousins on my father's side are the brothers that I never had. During the holidays, my father's -- not so much the Balderellis because they were such a large family and they, you know, they but on the holidays, my father's brother and sister, we would always get together on Christmas Eve, and then it got to be too much for my mother, and then one of my cousins took over on Christmas Eve over at his house. And then as we got older, everybody, you know, got their own family. So we started to go to my sister's home. SPEAKER 1: Now, did your mother work? DOTTIE: She worked at the store. UNKNOWN: She also worked at home. DOTTIE: My father never had her on the payroll until later, until the doctor says, you know what, she works as hard as anybody, in fact, when the help saw my mother come, they'd go, oh, my God. She would work as hard as anybody. She cleaned the store. She decorated the store. She did the windows until later on. I mean, she worked as hard, so when she became -- when it came time for her to collect Social Security, they came and interviewed me. I and her. So this little twirp, I said, would you fire your mother? He's such a -- he's so -- he didn't even ask for help if she came into work. I mean, we weren't lying. She worked there as hard as anybody else. SPEAKER 1: But there wasn't any record? DOTTIE: There wasn't any record until later on when he put on her the payroll, but it wasn't really a record type thing. So they said, well, she never -- I says, well she worked harder here than most of us did. SPEAKER 1: So you mentioned the doctor? 10 DOTTIE: Dr. Silva was a close friend of my father's, and he said you should have her on the books because she's there as much as anybody. And so my father said, yeah, you're right. So he put her on his, you know, in [unintelligible - 00:20:43]. SPEAKER 1: So how did you mother feel about that? Was that kind of liberating, or…? DOTTIE: No. She didn't care one way or another. I mean, my father paid for everything. You know, we would just, you know, he would -- my mother'd go uptown and she'd, you know, the [unintelligible - 00:20:58] charges all over. And so she says your father is gonna complain. I says, "Ma, if you spend $5 or $500, he's going to complain. So spend the $500. He's going to complain one way or another." I says, "Ma, he's been saying that since you've been married he's going to shut your account. Did he ever do it? No, he's not going to do it." SPEAKER 1: Before we turn the recorder on, you had mentioned that you're half Italian, half Sicilian. DOTTIE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: So tell me about that. DOTTIE: I mean, I never thought about it. I just said, if anybody asked me what I was, I would say I'm Italian. And so I still say I'm Italian. But people who live in Sicily and other -- see, they figure that's the boot part and we're close to Africa. It was just a big joke. And it still is. But I feel that I'm Italian, and in my heart I know I am. So I say I'm half [Mathogen] and half Sicilian, which I am. And I'm proud of my heritage. SPEAKER 1: Mm-hmm. So if you could think of what attributes are given to the Sicilians? DOTTIE: I don't know. I just think that what I could -- the only thing I could see is because my mother is such a good cook, and that's one thing, and my father was forceful in his -- and that's how I perceive to be a Sicilian. They're kind of, you know, forceful. And the [Mathies] are on the quiet side because my uncles were quiet. Well, I don't remember the one that 11 died early, but my other uncle was just this solemn man and just a sweetheart. I mean, just [unintelligible - 00:22:44]. SPEAKER 1: Was there any good-natured jesting done? DOTTIE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: You know, about being Sicilian in the house. DOTTIE: Oh yes. Oh god, between my Uncle Jeff, you're lucky that my sister married you and you're Sicilian, you're up close to Africa. I mean, just jokingly, you know. But when my uncle was [unintelligible - 00:23:06] took sick, he and my father went on a trip for almost two months. They toured the United States, and my father would say, "Oh my god, if you stopped in this restaurant and your uncle looked at it, he'd say we're not eating here." He said, he'd be starving but if he didn't like the looks of it, he said we'd have to drive another 50 miles. SPEAKER 1: So food was very important? DOTTIE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: To the family? DOTTIE: Yes. My uncle married a French woman, and she cooked as good as my mother. Alice's mother is French. And she was as good a cook as my mother. SPEAKER 1: Tell me about the preparation of the food and the table, you get the impression all of that is very important, the presentation. DOTTIE: Yeah. When I tell you it's -- another thing my mother had a knack to do, if my father came home with five extra people for dinner and didn't call my mother, there was still enough food to serve these people. If he phoned after a meeting with people, my mother would put out a spread, and I'd look at sisters and say, where did she get that? She just had a knack of, you know, putting things together and making it look beautiful. In fact, my husband did all the cooking and I set the table so it looked pretty. SPEAKER 1: But did your mother also set the table each day too? DOTTIE: Well, I guess, us kids did that. But it was -- when we all sat down to dinner together, both sisters got married early so there was -- if I was 12 working she'd say, okay, and I was living in my own apartment, she says, "Well, come for supper before you go home," and I'd say, yeah okay. My sisters say, "Oh, you're lazy. You don't want to cook." I'd go, yep, you're right. So she would make sure that we stopped at least two or three nights, and most of the time if it was someone's birthday, she would have us all for dinner and cook our special, whatever we liked. And it was obvious whoever's birthday it was, and most of the time it was one of the other sisters that was there. So one night we're all there and my father says, whose birthday is it because nobody assisted, and we called everybody. But most of the time, I mean, she'd -- I mean, she could have 10 people at dinner and think nothing of it. SPEAKER 1: So there was always enough to eat? DOTTIE: Oh. If you asked my mother if you wanted her to go shopping at [Filene's] or go to a gourmet grocery store, she'd say I want to go to the gourmet grocery store. I mean, she -- I'm going into Boston in the north end and like to try different -- she says, "Okay, I got to go to the grocery store before you take me home." I said I just got to go in for a loaf of bread and she'd be in there an hour. I'd say, "Ma, Ma, you said a loaf of bread." "Well, I decided I need to get this, this, and this." Mm-hmm. Things that people consider gourmet now. We had polentas growing up. We had risotto growing up. We had baked Alaska pie growing up. I mean, we had lobster [nugood]. We had baked stuffed lobster. We had razor clams. Some people don't even know what razor clams are today. SPEAKER 1: Tell me, how would she make those? I'm familiar with them. DOTTIE: Razor clams. She would just -- what she would do is steam them first, take the, you know, the clams out and then chop them up and make stuffing with it, and then put them back in the shell and put a little bread crumbs and bake them in the oven. I think they were absolutely delicious. I'm telling my husband about razor clams, he says, "I've never hear of razor clams." We're at the [unintelligible - 00:27:18] walk in the beach 13 and I said see, see that, see that clam? That's a razor clam. Of course, I think you had to -- I hadn't seen them in years. SPEAKER 1: I never see them in the stores. I've seen them at the beach. DOTTIE: Yeah. I've never, ever seen them -- I haven't seen them in the stores for years. And another thing is that -- well, she didn't do this because there were certain things that she didn't make. Uncle did. SPEAKER 1: French uncle? DOTTIE: No, my Italian uncle on my father's sister's husband. I think he was from Poland. My middle sister was the finicky eater. I mean, my father would say, "Barbara, have a little wine." "But daddy, I don't like it." "Honey, just try the wine, it'd do you good." So, but my sister and I would, you know, we always had the wine and the champagne. We've had the, you know, he always made sure we had a little just so that when we were older that we were accustomed to drinking and we didn't go out, and you know, and the cabinets would be -- whatever was in the house would be open to all of us. All of us. So now my sister gets married and she lives upstairs from my aunt and uncle, and she called and said, "Oh, Uncle Charlie made me --" we called them "babaluccis" in Italian, and I said, oh yeah. My sister says, "That's nice, thank you. Bye," and hung up. I called and I said, "Uncle Charlie, you like Barbara better than me." He says, no honey—because he had an accent—I like you both the same. I said nope. Oh no, he says, I like you both. I said, well, you make Barbara babaluccis and I didn't get any. The next day I had a pair. SPEAKER 1: What are babaluccis. DOTTIE: They're the snails. They're little snails -- he used to do them in a sauce that was absolutely delicious. And another thing my mother never made was tripe. And I never had it because I didn't like the smell. My grandmother would cook it and it was ugh. It was bad. They bought it and they had to clean it, and it was terrible. So now I used to have to go with Teddy, and we'd go out and they have tripe. I got ugh. So he goes, try it. So I say okay. I tried it. Delicious. Now, my aunt's sister-in-law 14 comes from New Jersey, and she makes a whole batch for my husband, but my mother still never cooked that. That was one thing she never cooked, and baccala. But 99 percent of everything else, she did, so. My favorite was that she used to do this roast pork with the center cut that she used to have, then we cut the bone so that we could have the bone. We would fight for the pork, so she'd make sure that we'd all get a piece of it. But that was my favorite, favorite dish that she did. SPEAKER 1: Now, I know that everyone would sit at the table. Was your father given priority, first serving? DOTTIE: He was given the first serving, but we all had -- the only thing that we didn't have that he had because we didn't like it was liver, because he liked liver occasionally. But he was served first. But whatever he had, we had. And the other thing, I don't think as kids, we didn't like lamb chops, so my mother would make something else for us. But now lamb is my favorite meal now. But you know, like I said whatever my father had, we had. Nothing was taken from us. I mean, he would serve for us. But if he had steak, we had steak. I mean, we'd choose not to have it. That was because didn't want it. But I have a friend that came from a family of nine, and father would have butter and the kids would have margarine, and so we said that if he could have steak and the kids would have something else, and so we had a brother, so this brother says, "When am I going to have this steak and butter?" He says when you start to work, and you know, contribute. They came home and he says, well, here's my money I want steak and butter or whatever, and the father says, oh no, some of it's for your room, some of it's for the clothes, and some of it's for this. You still don't have enough money for steak. SPEAKER 1: Now, who served the food at the table? DOTTIE: My mother never sat down. She did. I should say she was always on the edge. My father -- we always ate in the dining room in Leominster because we'd -- I'd say 90 percent of the time -- we had a large kitchen but my father felt claustrophobic, so 90 percent of the time we ate in the 15 dining room because it was it the stove and this thing was here and the dining room was here. So it was actually closer to the dining room than it was to go across the kitchen to the other part. But my mother served. SPEAKER 1: Now, would your father…? DOTTIE: It didn't matter. No. It didn't matter. SPEAKER 1: You know what I want to do? It's because just that you're… DOTTIE: Sure. I'm sorry. SPEAKER 1: No, right here, because you're… DOTTIE: Oh, I'm sorry. SPEAKER 1: No. It's all right. I'm just afraid it will [unintelligible - 00:33:02]. Okay. Back to your father. Do you have any idea why his parents chose Fitchburg? DOTTIE: They must have had friends here. Not really. No. I don't know why they really, no, I don't -- no, I don't. No, I don't remember hearing why they choose here. SPEAKER 1: And also, but I think the recorder wasn't on; you were talking about an experience… DOTTIE: They just said that it was tough growing up because they originally -- they lived in the patch, which is considered Italian when they were growing up. First it was Irish, and then they moved out and then the Italians moved in, and they moved out. Now I think it's the Puerto Ricans that live mostly in that area. I don't think there's anybody left even down, you know, beyond it, because this is Water Street, and down this way almost every house was Italian. SPEAKER 1: Well, there's Doris… DOTTIE: Oh yeah, she's still there. Yeah, she's still there. I forgot. Yes, she is. She lives down Railroad Street. Yes. Lovely lady. I mean, you see her, she makes you feel she's so happy to see you. She comes and gives you -- so good to see you. SPEAKER 1: She's special. DOTTIE: Yes, she really is. 16 SPEAKER 1: So do you remember any…? DOTTIE: All I can remember is that, you know, I grew up there. I worked there, and so I was, you know, eight years ago. So I was there, you know, all my life, and you see the changes as, you know, you grow up but… SPEAKER 1: So tell me about the changes. DOTTIE: Well, you could walk down the street, and you know, you knew everybody, and it was amazing how many [unintelligible - 00:34:57] that was on that street growing up, and each one of them -- I don't know how they survived, because each one of them had a large family, and there must have been a dozen stores from 5th Street to 1st Street. And they had -- there was [colors] and there was the [Cabones], there was [Ilinestis]. There was another two Cabones. There was a [Casthetes]. There was a Gloria chain, which is -- I still, I don't know if they should have one in Leominster too, but part of the Gloria chain was in where our store is now. It was -- my father's furniture store originally was built as the garage where they would park cars. And when we were across the street, he bought this building, and he converted it into a furniture store. And one time, Coca-Cola had rented the warehouse, and they had 12 trucks on the roof of this building. The building is still standing very, very strong. Some of the parts of the building are fallout shelters. That's how -- 'cause it was built so well. And it is -- it [unintelligible - 00:36:37] Water Street up to Spruce Street up to Hale Street, 'cause when you look at the building in the front, it doesn't appear to be latched. It goes all the way up to Spruce Street and Hale. Spuce Street is the street just before the store. Okay. And Hale Street is the street that runs parallel with Water Street. So that building goes all the way up to Hale Street. SPEAKER 1: And you mentioned that it was a fall out? DOTTIE: Part of it is. SPEAKER 1: Wow. Yeah. And when did that come about? DOTTIE: Well, I think World War II. They came in and they, you know, they check out the buildings and stuff and put up these things. 1953, that's when he 17 converted the garage into the store because, well, right now, if you were to go in there the ceilings don't appear high, but there is six more feet. They dropped the ceiling. Or they dropped it to a, you know, a fall ceiling. But beyond that there's six more feet. SPEAKER 1: I thought you just mentioned -- were those grocery stores? DOTTIE: Yes, they were little groceries, and… SPEAKER 1: Your mother must have been in heaven. DOTTIE: She did -- she [unintelligible - 00:37:49] I said no. I'm going to a different store. Well, this one has this one in her [unintelligible - 00:37:53], and as they stopped, you know, maybe they'll pass away or whatever, they, you know, they spaced up, because there's nothing on there now. There's not a grocery store on Water Street now. Maybe there is, but up for a -- but after they stopped existing -- she bought very, very little meat from the supermarkets. She bought it from Sal's Grocery Store up in -- they would deliver to -- 'cause I've been everywhere in Leominster. They would deliver to the store, then we'd take it. I would say, "I want a pound of this, I want a pound of that. I want two pounds," whatever she wants, she'd give them an order and he'd deliver it. SPEAKER 1: So they still have these grocery stores, they weren't run by the -- they were run from daughters? DOTTIE: Maybe, not really, no. I can just remember just one. It was -- he adopted, but it was not even a son. It was someone that worked for him, but he ran it for a while. And it's actually a parking lot now of this [unintelligible - 00:39:04]. There was a grocery store there in the building up above it. I mean, they had like tenement houses that we needed parking lots, so then my father bought that building and tore it down. SPEAKER 1: Know everyone who lived in the patch more or less. DOTTIE: More or less. In fact, it was about -- I wanna say 12 years ago, they had a patch reunion, and it was wonderful. They had, you know, it was some people you hadn't see in years and wonderful. We should do it again, of 18 course. It's a lot of work, but no one has, you know, taken any initiative and done it again. SPEAKER 1: Did anyone take pictures? DOTTIE: But I do remember, I had this lady, this Mrs. [Impressor], was just a sweetheart of a lady and sometimes she would just come in the store just to fill her -- she was turning 100, and [unintelligible - 00:40:01] called me. She says, "Dottie, how come you haven't sent in your return?" I says, I was hurt, because one of my girlfriends got invited, and I says, I wonder why [unintelligible - 00:40:11] sisters, Dottie? How come you didn't send in the return?" I says, 'cause I didn't get -- that was when, again all Italians were there, so it was, I went to a wedding and hadn't seen people in a lot of years. SPEAKER 1: So do you remember who the organizers were of the class reunion? I may like to talk to them. DOTTIE: I'm going to say Marie Cabone had something to do with it, but that's not her married name, her married name is… SPEAKER 1: We can get it later. DOTTIE: Okay. She may have had something to do with it. I'm not sure. SPEAKER 1: So tell me about the changes in the patch. So when did… DOTTIE: Interesting. You know what? You go to work every day you're going to see some things -- I want to say it started to change -- my aunt was walking down in front of the store, someone knocked her down and stole her bag. I says, I don't this believe this happening. First of all, it's my aunt, and second of all, in front of our store, so that was heartbreaking. SPEAKER 1: When was that about? DOTTIE: I want to say maybe 30 years ago. SPEAKER 1: Wow. DOTTIE: Time goes by so fast, because my aunt's been dead since I want to say '80. Time goes by so fast, maybe it was 25 years ago. At that time they'd leave the doors open, and you know, you never locked your doors or anything. You never thought about it, never thought about having an alarm system.19 SPEAKER 1: Did you ever [unintelligible - 00:41:57]? DOTTIE: No. First of all to let the store, anything [unintelligible - 00:42:04] built a store for furniture must be, and we had it, so we just -- fortunately we had a good clientele, and things were, you know, we were all right as far as, you know, our customers would come in and we'd advertise, so it was fine up until [unintelligible - 00:42:27] and then it just wasn't fun anymore. SPEAKER 1: Did your parents continue living about? DOTTIE: No, no, we moved to Leominster when I was… and we moved to… SPEAKER 1: Why was that done? DOTTIE: Why was that done? Well, my father and mother needed -- they bought the land on I'd say Ellis Street, and at that time my uncle, who was a plasterer and bricklayer, came and said to my father and mother there's a beautiful house in Leominster that's for sale. It's only six months old, and my father and mother went to look at it, and they fell in love with it because it was -- it is a brick Tudor, I want to say an English Tudor. And it was at that time one of the nicest houses in Leominster. So they got it for a good deal so they bought it. SPEAKER 1: Did life change after moving from [unintelligible - 00:43:32] Street? DOTTIE: No, because we still went to church in Fitchburg, I still worked, all my friends were in Fitchburg, I went to school in Fitchburg. In fact, someone said to me later on in life Dottie, how do you like living in Leominster, I said I've lived here most of my life, they said you wouldn't think so. In fact, up until a few years ago, people would ask me where I was from and I would say Fitchburg, and I'd say -- now I'd tell them I'm from Leominster because things have changed you know, it's a different… it's changed immensely. It's not the small community that it was. In fact, up until I worked, because I had property in Fitchburg I voted in Fitchburg up until ten years ago. SPEAKER 1: Ten years ago.20 DOTTIE: I would say. Of course I wasn't active like I was when I was working. I belonged to the Chamber of Commerce; I belonged to the government stations. And when you retire, you get away from that, and it isn't as… see, my father was active in everything, he was active in politics, he was active in the community, he was active in the church, he was active in the Sons of Italy, he was active in politics, so he was very active in the community. In fact he and a couple of his friends were instrumental in him getting elected mayor. SPEAKER 1: So he was instrumental with that. DOTTIE: They were very good friends, yep. In fact he was instrumental in John Volpe becoming governor. SPEAKER 1: Really? Tell me about that. DOTTIE: He and John Volpe became friendly when they belonged to the Sons of Italy on a state level. So John Volpe called my father and said to him, "I am running for governor," and "Can you help?" My father said sure. So he called one of his, campaign manager called my father and he says, "We're coming into Fitchburg on Monday, can you introduce him to -- or can I introduce him to a lot of people in a short period of time?" So he actually closed the store down and had every one of us call our friends, customers that we thought would come, and he had open house at his house. And at that time, well he still, he belonged to the Rotary and he belonged to… I don't know if he belonged to [unintelligible - 00:46:19] we got the book and we just called people up and said… I'm not Republican, they said we don't care, just come, we want faces, a lot of people. So we booked. It was the early part of June so he says we'll have it outside, and at that time there was too many people and it wasn't enough time, so we had to have it catered. 21 So I called the caterer, he had all the summer furniture in the store delivered to the house and was going to have it outside. Well, it poured like you can't believe. We had tons and tons of people still and he called my father a few days later and he says Bill, if I have six friends like you throughout the state I'll be elected, and he was elected. SPEAKER 1: [Unintelligible - 00:47:07]. DOTTIE: No, the only job my father ever got for that was -- and because Joe Adante asked him to take it was to be on the Board of [unintelligible - 00:47:18] and so he took that. The only thing he go from helping so much was people would come in and say can you get me a low number plate, and he would buy the letter, and I got a low number plate. In fact because sometimes you don't think, I got my number plate is 99G, so I got that. But the woman that did it had to do some research because it was the ninth month, the ninth day in [unintelligible - 00:47:54]. And my father had -- in fact my brother-in-law still had, it's 52W, he was 52 years old [unintelligible - 00:48:03] the first time. He had 52W. So now he's running again, and Joe Ward is running against him, and he's from Fitchburg. My father, I says, "Are you crazy? You can't go out and campaign for him," I said, "It's suicide." I said, "You have a business." He said, "I also have the right to choose who I want to vote for." So he called up Joe Ward and he says to him, "Joe, I've known you for a good many years, but you know my affiliation with John. We've been friends for years. I would say that if John wasn't running I would help you campaign." He says, "I can't thank you enough for calling, and I still think you're gentleman." He also was Republican chairman in Fitchburg and Leominster area for a long time. SPEAKER 1: Who was? DOTTIE: My father. SPEAKER 1: Your father? DOTTIE: Yeah.22 SPEAKER 1: How did he get involved in politics? DOTTIE: Well, because [unintelligible - 00:49:15] like Pete Levante was running for mayor. That way, he was active with -- he'd gotten involved with John Volpe, and then he just was campaigning, he was Republican chairman for a long time in Fitchburg and Leominster area. That's how he got involved in it. And he would always take people home to the house and we got involved in it. This is changing the subject because he would say yes to you, if someone asked him something and he couldn't do, well he could do it, but to take someone somewhere he'd say yes that's fine, we'll do it. He'd say, "Dorothy, do this," and I'd get angry and I'd say I can't make a decision on my own, but I always had a -- especially with the nuns, when I was young they didn't drive, they didn't have their own car. So if they had to go somewhere, they would rely on the community of, you know, our parish to take them somewhere. Because we always had two cars, they would call my father and say I have to go such and such a place. "No problem. Dorothy, take them." I'd say, "Why do you do that?" He says, "What do you mean why do I do what?" Make decisions for me. He says "I don't make decisions, you do." But it was fun. One time he called me from Florida and said you have to be in so-and-so's wedding. I says dad, I don't know them. He said that's all right. I knew the family but I didn't really know, you know I didn't know the bride at all. He said that's all right, I do. I said but dad, I'm already in five weddings, I can't afford it. He said that's all right, I'll pay for it. So I'm in this wedding, didn't really -- well, I knew the guy that was with me because it was, you know, I knew the family, but the bride and groom. Marty's father, you know Pete Levante, was because most of them were Italian, he was invited to all of the weddings, but he says Dorothy, I says what, he says, you're doing this for a living. My sisters were quiet and 23 they never worked at the store. I should say my middle sister's quiet, my other sister, we call her Mouth because she has to have last lip Susie, she has to have the last word. SPEAKER 1: And from the church, your father was involved with the church also? DOTTIE: He was, you know he'd collect on Sundays, and also if they needed money they'd come and he'd help collect. When I was young they used to have these carnivals or you know when they have people at merry go rounds with stuff. SPEAKER 1: Like an amusement… DOTTIE: Thank you, yes. And they would run those in summer months, and he became very friendly with the pastor. In fact they would go away for a few -- you know, like to go to Florida. My mother wouldn't go because she had us kids, and so my father would go with the priest. SPEAKER 1: And what was his name? DOTTIE: Father [Campanelli]. He ended up being in Worcester, he was Monsignor Campanelli. And we had Father John Capolano who was at our parish for a long time. So one time I said can I have a new dress, not this week, "Well if Father John came and asked you for money you'd give it to him." He'd say, "Listen here, young lady, anything I gave to the church I always got back tenfold." So he was, you know [unintelligible - 00:53:00] he was involved with that. But I was baptized, communion, confirmation, got married out of there, probably die and be buried out of there. So definitely, definitely. SPEAKER 1: Do you think… DOTTIE: That generation, the men were superior. I have two cousins that my father treated, I mean he was wonderful to us, but he treated these guys like they were his sons. And he was just good to them. In fact one of them worked for him for quite awhile, and he's a multimillionaire now in Leominster. SPEAKER 1: Who's that?24 DOTTIE: Charles Tito. But he started with my father, and his brother worked for -- no, Sam never worked for us, maybe on the summer or something. I was close with them, just thought these guys were the best. SPEAKER 1: Was education? DOTTIE: Yes, but he never had it. But he thought it should be, you know, you should have -- in fact I could have gone longer but I chose not to. Then after, two or three years later I decided, I said I think I want to -- he said well if you want to go back you've got to pay. I said well if the [unintelligible - 00:54:39]. SPEAKER 1: Was it an option for you to work at the store or was it just assumed? DOTTIE: Assumed. Because first of all if I had left, when I left [Deed], I should have gone to work out of town for a few years just to get an idea of how things are run differently. But it was assumed that I would come to the store and stay there. Everything. I said it's a good thing I wasn't a boy because… no, good thing I never learned how to drive the truck, because if I did he would have sent me out on the truck too, because I did everything there. I mean, you didn't say, you know, when you go to a store today they go that's not my department or that's not my job. Those words did not exist with my father. I'll never forget one time he says to me call this person up, they owe us money. I says, okay, "Hello, Mrs. Jones or Mr. [unintelligible - 00:55:49]?" And he says, "You haven't been in for a while," and he hung up. So I said he hung up on me, I mean no one ever did that to me. So he said call him back. He says, "If you don't stop calling me back, I'm going to come down and hit you with a baseball bat." Well, I mean I started to cry. My father said, "Give me that phone." But then after a while you learn how… I mean, if he did that to me now I'd say go ahead, come, I'll have one too. 25 But as a kid, I mean first of all you wouldn't talk to anybody that way, we weren't brought up -- I mean, even to this day you know how you see policemen you get nervous, you were always brought up to respect your elders and authority. But today, you know, even like if you said the teacher said this, you never went home and said the teacher said this because they'd say whatever you did you deserved it. But today… I have a friend that's a teacher. He came in the store and his hands were all scratched. I says, "What happened to you." He says, "I was taking a second grader to the principal and he was scratching me." SPEAKER 1: That would have been unheard of? DOTTIE: You would never, ever. I mean, if the teacher said whatever, you never went home and said the teacher said or did whatever, because they were always right no matter what. SPEAKER 1: Did you ever feel that you were treated differently? DOTTIE: I'll tell you what, because all my friends were Italian. In fact, I told this to Alice just recently. I says I was blessed because there's a big difference between my sister and I, there's like almost eight years difference. I was the first girl born in the family, I was the first child born in my mother and father's close friends. So I was [unintelligible - 00:57:55]. I had grandparents that weren't my grandparents that, you know, my mother and father's friend's parents, I mean they couldn't treat me any better if I was their grandchildren. Back then grandchildren missed out because they passed away before, you know, they had kids. So I had -- everybody was my, you know, I was loved a lot, my uncles, my father's friends, my aunt. Like I said I was the first girl in the family. My aunt had two boys, but I was the only girl. And the others didn't have children until later on, so I came along and my sisters came later. And my father wasn't as busy when I was born. And as my sisters came along, he became more and more active in the community. In fact he was even 26 president -- not president, he was treasurer of the Boy Scouts in Nashoba Valley, and he never had any boys. SPEAKER 1: So it seems as though he… DOTTIE: That's right, he was always, he was president of the Chamber of Commerce a couple of times, he was involved with Rotary. SPEAKER 1: What was that about him? DOTTIE: He liked people. He liked to be active. He liked to be busy. See, that was his hobby more or less because he didn't golf, he didn't do any of those things. So he kept busy and active in politics and whatnot. SPEAKER 1: Did he ever have a talk with you as far as being [unintelligible - 00:59:42]? DOTTIE: Maybe we just kind of -- no, I don't think so. I think he just took it for granted that, you know, it was amazing how far he came, he had a lot of foresight because he took chances where, you know, it was unheard of. Like he bought this building that was like a shell, and he -- the man that built was… bought it to… he built it to park cars and it… and my father turned around and he said, "Well we could put a store there, right?" and he did. SPEAKER 1: Well, how did he get involved in the furniture business? DOTTIE: He started with the oil business, then from the oil business he started -- he went to school to learn how to install burners, you know oil burners, 'cause he was selling the oil then he needed the burners. Then from that there he started to sell appliances, and from appliances he started to -- you know, furniture, you know, little by little, and then he would go to the furniture shows and started the [unintelligible - 01:00:55]. SPEAKER 1: Did he have [unintelligible - 01:00:58]. DOTTIE: No. SPEAKER 1: No. DOTTIE: People would say, "Oh yeah, he had [unintelligible - 01:01:02]." No. One time he went to the bank to borrow money because he didn't have -- he wanted to buy I think a car load of, I don't know, refrigerators or 27 something, and he went to borrow I want to say a thousand dollars. I don't remember the exact amount. And because he was not really established, they said no. And he -- the doctor that was friendly with us, he loaned him the money. SPEAKER 1: What was his name again? DOTTIE: The house. But she was -- I said why don't you use this. Oh I can do it quicker. SPEAKER 1: Yeah, I think sometimes, you know, by the time you rent [unintelligible - 01:01:46] you know. Anyway, we just had to replace the batteries, and now we're back in business. So you said -- you were talking about your father and the furniture business, how the doctor helped him, loaned him money. DOTTIE: Yes, and he paid him back, and then they remained… he was like a brother… they were the closest thing to a brother. I mean, he was Jewish, and -- but they really remained friends until they both passed away. SPEAKER 1: Really? DOTTIE: Yes. He was -- in fact, on Christmas day my father and I would… we would go to visit them, bring a gift to both of them, he and his wife, and we would have coffee or whatever on Christmas. We would do that Christmas morning, or was it before? I can't remember if it was Christmas morning or just before Christmas, because -- I mean, they just were you know… he never ever did, never! He had, you know, basically the same friends that he had all his life. [Unintelligible - 01:03:01] too. Where I have, you know, the same friends as we had since I was a kid, I don't -- you know, you acquire a few on the way, but basically the same people I've been involved with most of my life. Well, of course I never… I never moved out of the area, so… My sister one time said that if I was on welfare, I would still be a millionaire because of my friends. Yes, yes. So like I said feel I've been blessed in 28 that respect. Priest last night says how would I want to be remembered? I want to be remembered that I loved and I was loved. SPEAKER 1: Yes, that's… DOTTIE: Well, if you really want to make money you can make money. But I think friendship is more important than anything, because you can't buy that. 'Cause once the money is gone, the people that you bought are gone. You have money going up and you don't coming down and you have true friends; your friends are going to be there for you. Not really, no, I think that's an individual thing. I don't know, 'cause I -- first of all I think because my mother and father always entertained, I tend to still do that. I don't do it as much because my husband was the one that did the cooking and stuff, so not a lot of, you know, people coming into dinner and… SPEAKER 1: You and me. DOTTIE: I mean we would have brunches like, we'd invite half the, you know, the complex. I mean… SPEAKER 1: Did you live in Maine or was that… DOTTIE: We just had a summer -- I mean, it was the condo that we would go in, in the winter months, but not like going in the summer. We would still just go on the weekends. But I would take Saturday… I'd work Saturday and leave Saturday, and then I would take Monday and Tuesday off instead of taking a -- sometimes I would take a couple of weeks, but towards the end we just would take longer weekends [unintelligible - 01:05:21]. So we had it up until… I sold it -- it's going to be three years. We were together about 25 years but legally married about 12, I guess. Eighty-four, but he was just a -- like I said, like the people that we went last night to the funeral, they said we were just talking about Teddy Christmas time. He was the type that -- like I said, he would holler and scream, but that would be over within two seconds. And I mean, he just 29 [unintelligible - 01:06:00] go get him, give him a cup of coffee, get him a drink, do this. I think so. I'm not so much as business-minded, but personality wise I think he had a lot of my father's traits because they all, they both like people. SPEAKER 1: [Unintelligible - 01:06:20] furniture store? DOTTIE: He was actually a leather [unintelligible - 01:06:25] he managed -- he was bartender and he managed it. It was at that -- right now it's where the weather vane is. It used to be called King's Corner, and he worked there for a good many -- but he looked after when my father passed away and I had to run the store so he would come in to help out, but not really work at it. But he helped out. SPEAKER 1: When did your father pass away? DOTTIE: 1984, the year I got married. SPEAKER 1: Oh. [Unintelligible - 01:06:54] DOTTIE: Yes, yes, yes. SPEAKER 1: What was that like? DOTTIE: That was not as enjoyable, because first of all I loved, I loved to wait on customers, and you know, sew and decorate. That was my forte. Than I had to worry about bills, I had to worry about hiring, I had to worry about firing, I had to worry, had to -- all the responsibilities that go with running a business, and it wasn't as fun. One time Teddy said I stopped doing that because it wasn't fun. I guess it comes to that point when you realize, 'cause I -- you know, sometimes it's "Oh, I hate going to work, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it." But you say that just to [unintelligible - 01:07:41]. Actually I enjoyed working with the customers, and even to this day if I'm out and they said, "Oh, I'm sorry you don't have the store anymore," or, "You know what? I still have the sofa that you sold me 20 years ago." So it's just a store, it was when it was time to close it. So I know what I 30 should have probably done, and I still have the building, which has been up for sale, really, for the last couple of years… of last year, but it's, you know, we should have done it two years ago. SPEAKER 1: So you were involved for so long in this store. How long did you work there about? DOTTIE: I got out at -- let's see I was 18, 19, 20… till I was about 58, so 20 to 58. SPEAKER 1: I imagine your customer base, did it change over time? DOTTIE: Believe it or not, if we started with the grandmother and father, then we got the daughter or the son, and then we got the son's kids, and so we're -- a lot of it was just the same generation. I mean, we got new customers; don't get me wrong. I think the biggest -- at one time we had Devon's, you know, Devon used to have soldiers, okay, so I said it was Fort Devon's. And I had a customer come in and said so and so sent me, and I says -- of course the name didn't hit a bell, and they says, "Oh yeah, they were in Germany." Excuse me? Yeah they said they knew we were coming here, and they said we'll need furniture, and they said to make sure they said you come see us. And we did we got a lot of word of mouth and had one customer that they would come in every week, and I would chat with them and they'd buy a chair or something small. I'd give them -- we always had coffee, we had coffee, so we'd offer my customers coffee. I mean, I would tell the girls or the people that were selling -- when they come in that door you treat them like they are coming into your home and bring me to them. So when a customer -- I would try to cultivate them. And so like this customer buys this enormous house, and now they need it furnished, and so now they also need draperies and… oh, my sister [unintelligible - 01:10:25] just had a flair for decorating. You are going to handle the drapes, you are going to -- we have this company that we 31 dealt with where, you know, on a small basis as far as if you came in and said I want some draperies, I said, "Okay, measure your walls and whatever," and we had a small company that we would deal with. So this was -- and when I tell you, this house, they called it the castle. I mean, it had -- it was unbelievable! Now she did all the draperies, and I sold them every room of furniture except I think they had already bought a dining room set, but everything else I did. Now, at the time -- this is over 20 years ago, thousand dollars, so that was a lot of money, but with the furniture, [unintelligible - 01:11:19] says, "Well, how are they going to pay for this?" I says, "I don't know." I just was going crazy. About two or three days later the lady walks in and she says, "Can we go somewhere?" "Yeah, we can go in my father's office," so she closed the door, and she goes boom-boom-boom, she whipped out $20,000 of cash. I almost had a heart attack. That was my biggest sale. I mean, one person. Did they have a complaint on anything? Nothing, except something I gave them -- the man says, "Oh, the top of the shelf is scratched." I said, "Oh, you didn't pay for that." Oh, okay. It was pebble stone base, and it was going to be [unintelligible - 01:12:07] going to put a statue on it. So I said well, I'm not going to charge you for this because it's got a few scratches on it. So he says everything's okay except, you know, the base of this is scratched. I said, "Well, you didn't pay for that." "Oh, okay. Thank you." SPEAKER 1: So how in the beginning of your involvement, how did customers pay? DOTTIE: How do they pay? On a weekly basis. They would come in, and they would -- I don't even know if we charged them interest. I guess then we started doing what we called a pre-payment plan, which was considered cash in 90 days, but it had to be broken into three payments. 32 And then we had the company that would buy the paper if, you know, rather than carry -- I forget the company we used. I don't know if it was… one of those companies. And then sometimes if it was a good customer that's been doing business they didn't want to go through that, then we would charge them the interest for the year, however long it took. And then we had customers that just paid weekly that came in for years and years and years. That was part of their, I mean, weekly… I had friends that would come in just to have coffee. I mean, they would have the day off, and they'd come in with their -- one friend had a grandmother that was -- she says, "Oh, let's go see Dottie. We'll have a cup of coffee." That like that Mrs. [unintelligible - 01:13:42], she's like, "Oh, let's go see Dottie. We'll have coffee with her." So I miss that part; I miss that closeness with the customers. Like I said, I treated my customers like they were my friends. Just because -- I did it mainly because it was easier to sell them, and then they kept coming back. And like I said, I enjoyed that part of it. Well, the trends went from outer out -- you know, they have the outer margin, and then it went to your country, which stayed in for until I almost closed, and then they had a lot of traditional, which was -- I remember one time a customer came in and said, "That sofa is down the street for $500 less," and I says, "I don't think… /AT/pa/mb/es

Issue 39.2 of the Review for Religious, March 1980. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration ~;ith 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 Miffsouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri, © 1980. By REVIEW t,'OR REIA(;~OUS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at ~;t. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $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 REvt~-:w t:o~ REt,~(;lOUS: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth. Minnesota 55802. D:~niel 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 March, 1980 Volume 39 Number 2 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and hooks for review should be sent to Rt:vlt:w volt Rt:lA~;~o'us; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answer~ing 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. Spirituality and Theology Alan Jones Father Jones, an Episcopal priest, is Professor of Ascetical Theology and Director of the Center for Christian Spirituality; 175 9th Ave.; New York, NY 10011. His last article in these pages, "Obedience in' the Conteinporary World," appeared in the May, 1978, issue. Non abundantia scientiae sed sdntire et gustare rein internam. (Saint Ignatius Loyola) Dogmatic and mystical theology, or theology and "spirituality," are not to be Set apart in mutually exclusive categories, as if mysticism were for saintly women and theological study were for practical but, alas, unsaintly men. This fallacious division perhaps explains much that is actually lacking both in theology and spirituality. But the two belong together. Unless they are united there is no fervor, no life and no spiritual value in theology, no substance, no meaning and no sure orientation in the contemplative life.' One of the g~'eat privileges of the sabbatical system is that it not only affords the professor an opportunity to follow a particular line of research, but it also enables him to "feel and to taste the inner thing" of his subject. When it comes, however, to the subject known as mystical theology, there is som~ dispute as to whether there is anything either to feel or taste! All I can say is that after my sabbatical, I have felt and tasted Something that might well be a subject. I feel defensive, however, on two fronts. The first is the enormity and depth of the subject itself. The second is the suspicion, odium, and contempt in which the subject has been held by some theologians over the years. The first problem is more easily overcome than the second, for every scholar in whatever subject must, at various times, be overwhelmed by his inadequacy to ' Thomas Merton, Seeds of Contemplation (1972), pp. 1"97-8, quoted in Andrew Louth, Theology and Spirituality (Fairacres Publication 55, 1978), p. 4. 161 162 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 19~80 / 2 plumb its depths. This gives me a certain comfort. The second problem, however, is of more practical concern and is~more difficult to overcome. The cleavage between theology and devotion is surely a fake one, although some fakes and frauds have a wonderful way of pretending to be real. The ugly breach (albeit based on a false dichotomy) between "the intellectual" and "the affective" over the centuries has done serious damage to both. Lo~,e is blind; the intellect is a cripple--so runs a classic image. In order for both to progress according to this. image, the intellect sits on the shoulders of the affections and guides them while the affections give feet to the intellect. In the same way, theology and spirituality belong together. Andrew Louth writes: So spirituality.[is] that which keeps theology to its proper vocation, that which prevents theology from evading its own real object. Spirituality does not exactly answer the question, Who is God? but it preserves the orientation, the perspective, within which this question remains a question that is being evaded or chided.Spirituality is necessary to theology to keep il in its proper vocation. The converse also seems .to be true, that theology is necessary to spirituality to keep, it to its proper vocation . The danger of a non- or un-theological spirituality is.that it will tend to become a mere cult of devotion.~ The immediate occasion of these thoughts which have been sitting in the back of my mind for some time was a casual remark in a letter from a dean of a seminary concerning the possibility of ~ colleague of mine doing some teachi.ng there,in the area of spirituality. In the middle of his friendly letter there was a well-aimed barb. While he welcomed my colleague's coming to the seminary, he was not sure that his faculty would r~egard Christian Spirituality as a discrete discipline. Now this is harmless enough. Fair game, one might say, in academic circles.' Still, underneath the joking there is a vein offseriousness. In other words, I take seriously the phony breach betweeri head and heart," between "theology" and "devotion." But 1 am even more concern~ed by the fact that this so-called bre~ch is thought to be real~ by at least some theologians. The idea has come abotit that the gap has always been there and always w, iil be. Of cohrse we have to bri~dge it occasionally, but this is usually done in the privacy of ou~" schizoid selves when we say one thing and do anotheL The gap, though,~ has to be obliterated, not just bridged, one way or another, and 1 would like to see it destroyed first in the intellectual realm itself.~ ~ ISOuth, op. cit., p. 4. o ' This is where both recent scholarship and the Christian mystical tradition might,.h~lp us. The books which set me. going on this subject were. R. C. Zaehner's Gifford Lectures for 1967-69, Concordant Discord (Oxford University Press, 1970), [this is a strange rag-bag of a book, polemical yet urbane, containing some brilliant insights]; William Johnston's The Inner Eye of Love (Collins,-1_978), which is the.first rece'ni attempt that I know of to argue for the recognition of mystical theology as "a discrete discipline"; Bernard Lonergan's Method of Theology (Dartbn, Spirituality and Theology One might start" by asking whether academic the61ogy itself is a,.discrete discipline. As Andrew Louth points out: ° Academic theology., needs some understanding of its own inner coherence to justify ~ . itself at all as an academic d~sophne, otherwise the several d~sclphnes ofwh ch t consists really themselves belong not together but to other wider disciplines." Without Jesus Christ as a principle of coherence th~ Old Testament just a collection Of semitic writings, the New Testamen a collec~tionof Jeffish and Hellenistic ~Je~vi~sh writings of the first century, and early'Christian doc.- trine a mere st'rand in the history"of ideas?ol~ Ithe later Roman Empire; s~irituality empha.sizes the "principle of coherenc, e" which holds together a seminary cufricultim. Theology serves spirituality .by rescuing it'from a chronic subjectivism. It is tragic when theology a~ad spirituality aredi'vided. Wird Christus Tausendmal zu Bethleh6~n geboren Und nicht in dir, du bleibst doch ewigli~h verloren. (Though Christ in Bethlehem a thousand t!mes was born But not in thee, in all eternity, thou art~forlorn.}6 ¯ ,Tr~ue, but,dangerous, "for without any, corre~cting influence the 'Christ born in me' will become the sort of Christ who can!be born in me. He will tend toAose the historical lineaments of the first-.centur~y~Jgw he was. He will lose his strangeness.He will cease to be the.one~who confronts us in his~sovereign individuality ~.A_c_a~emic the~ology, the dispassionate study of the witness of Jesus of.Nazareth, can provide~that corrective?'' ,This is why we learn Greek. "The strange language.is a symbol of t.he:~strangen~ss of thought that must be passed through before we can understand the GoSpels aright_.':a Longman, & Todd, l~70),~which' provides a method by which such a discipline Can be reestab-lished;:'~ and 'finally, Richard 'of' S(." Victor's" Benjamin' Mino'r~ Benjamin Major'and The Four Stages in the Mystical Ascent (in Clare Kirchbe?ger's Richard bf Stl Victor." Selected Writings on Contemplation, Faber and Eaber, 1957; also M~igne'.s~P,.L.CXCVI). The latter author I consider impbrtant as one who has managed to I~eal the breach between theology and devotion, even though the Victorines tended to side w~th Bernard against Abelard. All four books helped me r~discoVer the fact that there ts such~a subject as mystical theology! ' Lofith,~op. cit., p. 10. - '~Somemight, take exception to this since "the Old ~Testament revelation has an,integrity of its own, independ~ent of the New, as the flourishing Jewish religious c0mmuni~y of our time testifies. The Old Testament is the matrix of Christianity, and is essential for Christianity's identity and S~lf-definition whereas Chri~ianity'is ~n~t simiiarl~, essentiaj for Judaism" (fro~ Dr. J~.mes Carpenter's response to the first draft of this paper). I am in complete agreement with hi~ her~, bui m~' poini was not io disparage the Old Testafiaent revelation as far as Jews are Concerned, but simply to affirm that I cometo.the Old Testament in and through the light of the Christian revela-tion. Dr. Carpenter's trenchant and illuminating comments on the first.draft were helpful in my making this revision, and 1 gratefully acknowledge my indebtedness to :him. ~ Louth, op, cit., p: 10: " ~ Ibid., p. I 1. ~ Hoskyns Cambridge Sermons, 1938, p.xxiii. ,. ' ° 164 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 Let us first take a brief look at the roots of the apparent conflict:. The disastrous cleavage between theology and religiousexperience goes right back, of course, to the beginnings of the struggle to articulate Christian belief. The formal "break," which has never really been healed, came, I suspect, at~he time ~)f the Renaissance and Reformation. For me, though,°it is sym-bolized in the earlierconflict between Abelard ~nd Saint Bernard. Ts-hy sym-bolized, because it would not be historically accurate to in~,est these two men with the rigidqualities ! am ascribing to them. Abelard represents theology. He was the proto-scholastic, whose unchastened intellect led'to his ruin. Saint Bernard represents affective piety, the burning heart devoted to God in prayer. Even though Saint Bernard won the first battle of the'campaign, it was Abelard, i believe, who won the war. The conflict resolved itself in two systerris in the thi~ieenth century: that of Saint Thomas Aquinas and that.of Saint Bonaventure. But who has heard of Saint Bonaventure's system apart from those few who are either medieval historians or students of mystical theology? Now, l know that what It have 'written here is somewhat of a caricature. Abelard, ifi places, reveals "a remarkable balance between in-tell'ect and feeling;''9 Saint Bernard, at times, seems to be devoid of feeling altogether., In reality, though, there was no real victor. Theology,became merely the tool of.the roving intellect. Bernard enjoyed ~nly a Pyrrhic ,victory. Abelard representedsomething vital to the healthy development of piety, that is, a probing and critical intelligence. Without theology, devotion was to go its own way. Without devotion, theology was to dry up and become, in Zaehner's words, "the plaything of desiccated mandarins.'''° Louis M. Martz sums up the situation in this way: During the Middle Ages .the scholastics threw a deep s~hadow over the affective life, a shadow which led some, such as Thomas a Kempis and his Brethren of the Common Life, to renounce scholastic subtletie§ as the brood of folly and the bitterlfruit of that curios~tas which St. Bernard denounced as the father of sin." I do not want tO paint too bla~k a picture. Nor do I want to reject Abelard. It was not _all bad, and there w~ele some .6otable men who were both brilliant scholars ahd committed contemplatives, Jean le Charlier de Gerson (1363-1429) for example, of whom most people have never heard! He wrote a synthesis, On the Mountain of Contemplation, the power of which was.such that it was cited b~, Richard Baxter in The Saints Everlasting Rest (1653): "Read'this you Libertines, and learn better the way of de+otion from a Papist." '~ Dorothy Sayers, writing about the problems of understanding Danters ~ James Carpenter. ~ ,~ ' ~o Zaehner, op. cit., p. 280. ~' Louis L. Martz, The Poetry of Meditation, a study in English Religious Literature of the Seventeenth-Century (N. ew Haven: Yale University Press, 1954, revised 1962), p. 11.2. ~ Ibid., p. 169, quoted from The Saints Everlasting Rest (1650), part IV., Spirituality and Theology / 165 Divine Comedy today has three things to say whic,h are germane to the discus-sion in hand: , . first, theReformatio~, which tended to substitute an infallible Book f6r that of a liv-ing and infallible Chur~ch; fpllowed by the Counter-Reformation whic~h tended to make doctrine a more rigid, and inelastic thing--to objectify an~d pigeonhole it, and to take as one,may say, 'the poetry out of it.' Secondly, there was a growing obsession with scien-tific method, leading men to discount all values which whre not (in .the modern sense) "~scientific," so that no truth was held to be true if it could not be tested in the~labofatory. A third point., is the increasing segregauon of specialists in th6r own specialties, so that the scientist is not expected to study theology nor the ttieologtan to study scmnce, nor either of them to be an artist or a poet. ~ Dorothy Sayers' third point is, perhaps the most telhng from the point of view of this PaPer. Over-specialization has made ,us mistake the fake breach for a genuine one. We are like the heretics Farinata.' and Celvalcanti trapped in the same tomb in the Inferno, yet each oblivious iof the other's presence. It was not always so. For Anglicaris the seventeenth-century was a period when the basic unity between the cognitive and affective was affirmed. It can be seen in the Caroline divines and in the metaphysical, poets. The coming together of the intellectu~il and the affective is summed up in a characteristi-cally seventeenth-century word, sensibility: the union of thought and feeling. In the nineteenth centuWroyr,d s"w "o~rt h w a s c o n 'cerned with. developing the "feeling intellect." In Catholicism the split was formally repudiated during the Counter- ;Reformation and the establishment-of-seminaries after the Council of Trent with their curricula which divided theology up to include ascetical, ~mystical, and mor~l departments. I do not believe the repudiation went very deep, but there was, at least, some attempt to deny the gap.~Classical Protestantism, of course, had no u'~e for mysticism whatsoever, and it is interesting to find Richa~'d Baxter trying to justify papist practices of meditation to the puritans. Asceticism and mysticism of any kind suggested the terrible possiblity of earn-ing salvation. It smackedbf merit and not of grace. But how were the saints to grow in grace? Baxter tried to remedy the situaiion by producing the first puritan treatise 'on the art of methodical meditation to appear in England. Why did h~ want to see regialar meditation restored to puritan piety? Without meditation theology was mere theorizing. All the preaching, teaching, and reading is so much-dros~ if it be not internaliz~d,~if the inner reality is neither felt nor tasted. ~ | And why so much preaching is lost among us and profess rs can run from sermon to ser-mon, and are never weary of hearing or reading and yet have su~:h lariguishing, starred souls; 1 know of no truer or greater cause than their ~gnorance, and unconscionable neglect of Meditation." ~'Dorothy Sayers, Further Papers on Dante (Methuen, 1957), p. 88. " Martz, op. cit., p. 154. 166 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 Baxter was not entirely successful in persuading his puritan readers. Enthusiasm was the mark of the elect, rather than the practice of methodical mental prayeL This seems to be just as true today. All efforts at prayer and meditation wbre doomed to fail. One had simply to"w~it!on the mysterious opera~tions of the Holy Spirit. I m~ention this'because_the suspicions0concern-ing mys~ticism and mystical experience run very deep.-When ~hey are repressed they come out in some other form, as Baxter himself realized. The puritan was led "to' expect 0nly Enthusiastick Consolatiohs.'''~ The answer tO wild and pathological charismatic exi~eriences is a sound'~ syst.emati~ and mystical theology. That iswhy t6day, in the face of "religious experiences,'?we need to redevelop and rediscover criteria for judging them. I believe taking seriously ofl~e again th~ study of mystical theology will be a step ifi achieving this. , .~O_ften it has been believed that ~mysticism ~ran ~th~ot~gh Christianity li~e a streak of insanity in the family. Every generation or so a mad man appeared who had to be put away or ignored. This was the prevailing x~iew, for examlSle, of Brunner, who brilliafitly, if unconv'indn~gly, a~rgued the Protestant case againstmysticism. It was a Pelagian aberration, a neo-pl~itonic impurity sully-ing the integrity of Hel~raic ~eality. A wedge was placed between the so-called prophetic religions and the so-called mystical ones: MystiCal religion was passive, ihactive, .quietist, not interested in ~he, world ~nd its sufferings." Ironically, of course, prophetic experience in the Old'Te~tamen( as an im-mediate experience of the reality of God is my.stic~l. What was Moses if not a myStic? Nevertheless,~ the vtew has long prevatled that mystical and propheti~ r.ehglons were opposed to one another. Anghcans took th~s up just before and Well after the Second World War in the pursuit of wl~at ¢vas theft called "BiblicAl Theolo,.gy." Iremember my old profes.sbr, Alan'Richardso~, ~i~n- ~ sistin~ in his gen'tle way that Christianity was essentially ant~-mystical. ~Fh~ puzzl6d me greatly at the time since I had the tempe~rament which took mystic)sm as a given of human experience. Richard.sob, no doubt,~meafit mysticism in the Brunner sense (as essentially monistic add pantheistic), but Brunne~:'s hssessmen~ of mysticism ,~s so one-sided and limited as to be~ in the end, unconvincing. Mysticism's only real ally amon,_g P(otestant theologians, as far as I can make out, wag Tillich. Without theological" undergirdings, mysticism be6om~s, .in Richard Norris' marvelous phrase, little more than th'e building and furnishing of a private little "hacienda of the soul.'"' There has been no stern~ ~ritic, in the " Ib;id., p. 157. ' . '~ See his Bicentennial Lecture, "Hunting the Transcendent," unpublished, but available from the Center for Christian Spirituality. His iconoclasm with regard to spirituality is thorough. I think he gives, implicitly at least, what R.C. Zaehner asks of the theologian: i.e., "not a theology of the Death of God. but a theology of the death of self, the death of the human ~'person,' who is not only our old enemy, the ego., but also the ego~who has 'got religion' because:he thinks he has found the 'true' self." (Zaehner, op. cit., p. 208). ., . ,° Spirituality and Theology / "167 best sense, of mysticism/spirituality-- call it what you will -- than Dr. Norris. He has certainly helped and influenced me in moving towards a~more critical approach to the subject. His" own introductory lectures in Systematic Theology at theGeneral Theological Seminary of New York, (a course which I once shared with him) were undergirded by what I would call "mystical theology." His whole thesis revolved around the-uflcovering of the structure of a relationship between God and the world. Mystical theology is about nothiiigqf.it is not about that. ~ Nevertheless, there are enormous odds against developing a rigorous mystical theology. Traditions are hard to break. Anglicanism gets the worst of both worlds. From Western Catholicism it inherits the'ancient, if false, cleavage between tl~eology and devotion; from Protestantism, deep suspicions with regard to any systematic, disciplined devotional life. There is one final obstacle to look at before we examine the state of theology today and try to negotiate for the reacceptance of mystical.theology as.an object of serious study. It is the obstacle of a peculiar mind-set: hard, obdurate, pseudo-scientific, fundamentalist. By "fundamentalist" I refer not only to a crass literalism with regard to the Bible, but to a crass literalism towards all "facts." - It was not accidental to find, during my days as an.undergraduate; that the Christian fundamentalist students were often, studying~scientific subjects like zoology and biology: subjects of observation and classification. I believe.there is a kind of academic fundamentalism wtiich is just as infectious and insidious as a biblical fundamentalism. It tends to see" facts" as flat, o he-dimensional. This~fundamentalism finds it hard to acknowledge that there may be more than one level ot: truth, more than one way of looking at, reality~ Some early biblical critics, for example, were no less dogmatic in telling us what a par-ticular periscope signified than the fundamentalist. There is little or no sense, in this mind-set, of the value of symbols in pointing to the inexhaustibility of "facts." : Tobe fair, this mind-set goes with scientific technicians rather than with the ,brilliant scientist who, like Einstein,~can make intuitive leaps like the mystic. The best description I havre come across of this mind-set is that of Edmund Gosse °writing about the a~titude of his parents to the Bil~le. It should be remembered that his father, Henry Gosse, was a zoologist. It involved: a definite conception of the absolute, unmodified, and historical veracity, in its direct and obvious sense, of every statement contained within the cove~'~ of the Bible. Further, " - and for my fatli~r, nothing was symbolic, nothi.ng allegorical or allusive in any part of scripture. Both my parents, I think, were devoid of sympathetic imagination. Hence there wa.s no,mysticism about them. They went rather to the opposite extreme, to the cultivation oi" a rigid and iconoclastic literalness.'7 'Edmund Gosse, Father and Son (Penguin Books, 1907, revised 1970, pp. 49-50). 168 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 -Literalness of mind can attack the professor of any discipline, not least that of mystical theology. One has only to read Tanqueray and even Harton to realize how far the "~reification.of ideas" can go. Andditeralness is nowhere more dangerous than ~vhen dealing with "the anatomy of ~ouls." The question is, how do I harmonize (insofar as t want to) all my ex-periences, .all the bits and pieces of the self? I do not think it unreasonable of me to look to theology:.for guidance and help. My spiritual nourishment comes from all sorts of apparently strange places: the novels of Iris Murdoch, my downstairs neighbor banging away at the piano and singing at the top of his voice, our family meals, a stimulating lecture by a colleague, and a host of other things besides the more obvious,centers of Christian devotion. A rigid, literal mind will not help meointerpret and harmonize these differing experiences. Before'we mov~ on to examining what might be the structure and method of a mystical theology, let us look at.the study of theology as such. There has been a great deal written already about theological studies which suggests to me that mystical theology is being slipped in through the back door. Theology which is rooted in present experience or theology as biography suggest an ap-proach to theology-which sees it as a reflection on religious experience (which, to get ahead of myself, is William Johnston's definition of mystical theology). In other words, there is a tendency for theology to be experience-based. Theology is a living, reflective encounter with a living tradition, and not "an understanding which is~at several removes from, and well-insulated against, the reality of which the scriptures speak.'''8 1 think this is why there has been such a resurgence of interest in religious experiences of all kinds:=-some of them, it is true, dangerous and bizarre. The hunger, ,however, is'real enough. It is easy to see why the academic world so easily gets jaded, cynical, and tired. Frankly, we do'not have time to experience much, let alone reflect on it. Theology then becomes dealing with experiences always at second or third hand. A sabbatical such as mine provides an opportunity for what Charles Peguy called "pure reading." Pure readers are those "who read a work solely and simply for the sake of reading it or taking it in, to feed and nourish themselves on it as a precious foodstuff, in order to promote growthdn themselves, to promote their inner, organic~dignity, not at all to use it as something to work with, to promote one's social status in a secular society.'".9 Without this freedom to read and think for its own sake, the pleasure is sapped out of teaching. As R. C. Zaehner puts it, "The joy has turned into tedium, and it is the tedium that one is likely to transmit.''2° La chairest iriste, h~las!'" wrote Mallarme, et, j'ai lu tousles livres ("sad, sad, is the flesh, and 1 have read all those books"). Theology takes a certain amount of leisure, and leisure is ver.y expensive. It Trevor Ling, Buddha, Marx, and God (London: Macmillan, 1966), p. 197. Quoted in Zaehner, op. cir., p. 18. 2o Ibid. SpiritUality and Theology is, however, only meditative reflection that the mere curiositas which Saint Bernard railed against turns into astonishment and admiration. But admira-tion on its own will not do either.: Wonder needs an ihterpreter. Devotion needs theology, and that is why it simply~will not do to relegate mystical theology, to the rubbish heap, since_it_reappears in other._f.o.rms.(in-the-new jargon_~s ~f~co~t~xtu~al education and storytelling theology). Christian mysticism, insofar as it has been a mere interlope.r from Neo-Platonism,2' needs the severe censure of theology. When devotion is cut off from theology, curiositas does notomove towards admiration but to superstition. God becomes, for the theologian cut off, ,from devotion, a "pale, intellectual substitute for the God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob"; for the mystic, God becomes either a crazed Oriental despot or To Hen, the great blob into which he longs to be absorbed. |n fact, the deeper one goes into the realm of mystical experience, the more vital is the critical eye of theological discrimination. Devotion to the point of ecstasy . can lead to a terrible moral indifference. Detachment can easily degenerate into disassociation and the wild inflation of the ego. The "1" that has beenJannihilated becomes "God"! In the Bhagav.ad Gita (18:7) we read: "A man who has reached a state where there is no sense of 'l',.whose soul is undefiled--werehe to slaughter [all] these worlds--slays nothing. He is not bound."22 This has tremendous social implications, as more and more persons long for just such an experience which annihilates the "I"~. and therefore annihilates moral responsibility. The rise in mindless acts of violence and un-motivated crimes points to a religious, as well as sociological disease. Depth p~ychology has taught us that we cannot help acting out our inner ¯ life, and it would be just as well if ~'e were to know something about.it. We might even learn to cultivate it,.not in the Norrisian sense of tending our own little "hacienda," but in the sense of cooperating with, and even co-creating of, our inner life. I cannot do this without the critical discipline of theology. But ~there is a further implication because, not only does the individual live out his inner life, but that same inner life eventually overflows and floods into social forms. The Church, of course, has been left out in the cold in that it has found itself largely bankrupt to offer alternatives to the hungry masses who feed on the spiritual, supernatural, ~ind often superstitious banquet provided by the ambient culture. Theology has done httle to ~nterpret these ~mpulses or ~ to help people develop a discriminating palate with regard to the various ¯ delicacies available. That some of them are deadly is beyond question. The mass suicides of the followers of the Reverend Jim Jones in Guyana point to the literal deadliness of some forms of "religion." So it is not simply a.matter 2, See Zaehner, op. cir., pp. 14Iff. ~ Ibid., p. 231. Zaehner goes on to give the modern instance of a totally unmotivated murder com-mitted by one whose mind is "still, pellucid, and free from occupation" (Andrew Gide, Les Caves du Vatican). 170 / Review for,Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 of academic niceties. A strong, critical seminary faculty could mean a matter of life and dea~.~th,_.It coul~ave a,.strong-i~iv-'~'~'ffd:-~-~-diating-r~l~, par, ¯ ti-c~larly when it looks as if we.might be victimized inside the Church, as well as~without, by new fanaticisms and enthusiams. =, The reader may have'been,frustrated by the fact that I have gotten this far without, givinga definition of what Imean: by mysticism (except as "religious experience"). Dean Inge gave twenty-six definitions in his Christian Mysticism of 1899. Iread.that book (which is not about Christian mysticism at all, but about neo-Platonism), .but since 1899 there,~have been significanli developments to,warrant our adding a hundred more,to~,the "~gloomy dean's" twenty-six. William Johnston. has recently struggled¯ with this problem of definition in. his The Inner Eye of Love. ~ ~ o~' If we go back to the Middle Ages we find that there is no distinction be-tween mystical theology and mystical experience, Jean Gerson (1363-1.429), whom we have already mentioned, writes: Theologia mystica est experimen-talis cognitio habita de Deo,per amoris unitivi complexum (Mystical theology is.~xperimental knowledge of God through the embrace of unitive love).2~ From this Johnston points out. that 'Christian "mysticism,is wisdom Or knowledge that :is found through love; it, is loving knowledge.'??' It is also ex-perimental, knowledge. It is not abstract. It is personal. And as we shall see later, w.hen we take a brief look at Richard of St. ~Victor; mysticism comes to fruition only when it reaches out in love towards others and towards the world, .in what we would call social action or outreach.: Now in my plea for the redevelopment of the mystical theology, I do not wish to imply that nothing has :'been done to reflect theologically,~about mystical experienceiin a systematicway. Roman Catholics have been trying to do"this since,the thirteenth-century, and I have waded through the treatises of Poulain and Pourrat, ,Tanqueray and Garrigou-Lagrange. The trouble witch these works is,that~they are pre-Freudian and pre-Jungian in outlook. It seems to me that it would be hopeless to try to develop a mystical theology today without relying heavily on the insights of these two great pioneers. °.Johnston claims that. the call to loving contemplation is given to everybody. It is supremely human activity. He also affirms that mystical ex-perience (if we go deep enough) is "a passage to'the¯ordinary.''2~ I certainly found this true in my short month as a hermit. It was, quite simply, a move-ment into the wonder of the ordinary. Johnston relies heavily on Bernard Lonergan's, Method in Theology in order to find a definition for mystical theology. As .Lonergan writes, "Method is .not a set of rules to be followed metiEulously by a dolt. It is, a, framework for collaborative creativity.''~ Lonergan is searching for a "transcendental method" which seeks to include not only what is thought, See Johnston, op. cir., pp. 19ff. ~'.lbid~, p. 20. ~ Ibid., p. 37, Lonergan, op. cir., p. xi. Spirituality and Theology / 171 heard, and reflected~upon, but also who it is who thinks, hears, and reflects. Theology seeks a .place where we emerge as persons, meet one another in a common concern for values, seek to abolish the organization of human living'on the basis of competing e~oisms and to repla(e it by an organization on the'~iasis of mhn's pdri;eptiven~ss and intelligence, his reasonableness, and his responsible exercise'of freedom.2' ." ":' L~onergaii"goes o~'i0 define th.$o_Jl.qogy as "refl,ection on religion,"~while Johnstbn ~defines mystical theology_as reflection on mystical~experience. "M~,s'ticism is the experience{haystical theology is reflection on thig~:ex-perierice." 2s We need the latter to combat the ~endency to~anti~-in~elle~tua.lism today, particularly in areas where religidus exl~erience~is coficerned.'"We need," sa~'s Johnston, "to interpret mystical experiefice and fihdits meaning: We~ nebd to distinguish the ahthentic from the inauthentie. Then there is the practical need to guide people.''2~ ~" The data, then, of mystical theology are the experience of mysticism, past and present. The sources are the Bible and the varied witnesses of the Christian tradition. It is conc~erned with° research, texts, history, and doctrines, but is is interesting to note that when Lonergan comes to the foun-dation of theology as such, he speaks of reflection or conversion. ~o Mystical experience has always been the v~ery core of theology. The theology of the Fathers "welled up from their mystical experience. But [and this is very significant] it also led to mystical experience." ~' Johnston goes on to pinpoint the problem today: ~ ,~ The~great temptation of theologY' has always been to di{'orce itself from mystical ex-perience. This was a very real problem in the Middle Ages; and it is a very real problem today. Particularly so, since,m the:last, few centuries theology~has bee_n grea!lY pre- 0 . qccupied with controversial issues; has becomeoextrem~ ely~academic., .and has largely di~vgrced itself from spirituality. Contemplative experience has been relegated to the pious writers on pious books. This is scarcely a healthy situation; for a theology which is divorced from the inner experience of the theologian is arid and carries no conviction. ~' If Bernard l~onergan is rjgti~ ip t~hat the Present and the futurewill be characterized by "the switch to interiority" then we will need to heal the breach between devotion and theology if we are to speak to our generation. Can w~ speak not ofily from "a wealth of sound scholarship bu~ also from a° wealth of personal experience"?~ Johnston gloomily concludes that theologians as a breed s~em particularly resistant to conversion: "The~ theologians i'emain unregenerate.''~' I am not so pessimistic, for this has not Ibid., p. I0. Johnston, op. cir., p. 43, n. 1; Lonergan, op. cir., p. 267. ~ Johnston, op. cil. " Ibid., p. 58; Lonergan, op. cir., p. 130. Johnston, op. cir., p. 56. Ibid., pp. 56-57. ~ Ibid., p. 57. Ibid., p. 58. 172 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 been~my experience. When Alan Richardson rejected mysticism he was plainly advocating it in another sense. When Richard Norris points tothe dangers of what can so easily be a non-subject, he lectures about the God whose being is only uncovered in relationships. He lectures about love. When a seminary dean slips in.a "dig" abou.t discrete disciplines, he unrepentantl~ sees that this non-subject is given i~riority in the seminary curriculum. '.'As conversion is~b~sic to Christian living, so an objectification of,~conver-sion provides theology with its foundations.''3~ So writ.es Lonergan. Priority is being given, at least implicitly, to Lonergan's definition of theology as reflection or,conversion in its intellectual, . moral, and religious dimensions. The latter dimension is the concern of mystical theology. The converted per-son is like someone in love "without limits or qualifications or conditions or reservatio,ns;i'36 Lon.ergan's counsel to theologians is in the form of four "transcendental precepts": Be attentive. Be intelligent. Be reasonable. Be responsible. Later he insists on adding a fifth: Be in love.~7 Lonergan's counsel comes to me almost as a command, as an antidote to madness. Coleridge (and I wish I could locate the reference) delineated two kinds of madness: the moral and the epistemological. Moral breakdown seems easy to discern, but what about the epistemological breakdown where nothing means anything and every human longing and aspiration is relativized out of existence? There is a saying attributed to Saint Anthony: "A time is coming when meri will go mad, and when they see someone who is not mad, they will attack him saying, 'You are mad, you are not like us.' ,,~8 What exactly do I mean by epistemological madness? It is a form of "in-sanity" which atta.cks true knowledge in two ways which are contradictory. " Lonergan, op. it., p. 130, see also,'p. 241; Johnston. op. cit., p. 58, n. I. -'~ Johnston, op. cit., p. 58;oLonergan, op. cir., p. 106. -" Johnston, op. cit., pp. 60, 61; Lonergan, op. cir., pp. 10ft. 1 do not have time, an such a short paper, to do justice to Lone~'gan. And I confess that it took Johnston's book to bring me to a sym-pathetic reading of Lonergan's. I had tried a few years ago and found it then indigestible! Lonergan goes on to say, "Now in a sense everyone knows and observes transcendental method. Everyone does so, precisely in the measure that he is attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible. But in another sense it is quite difficult to be at home in transcendental method, for that is not to be achieved by reading books or listening, to lectures or analyzing language. It is a matter of heightening one's consciousness by objectifying it, and that is something that each one ultimately, has to do in himself and for himself" (Lonergan, op. cit., p. 14). ~ The Sayings of the Desert Fathers, tr. Benedicta Ward, S.L.G. (Oxford: Mowbrays, Cistercian Studies #59, 1875), p. 5 §25. Spirituality and Theology The first way is to say that we can know absolutely nothing. Everything is relative. Nothing, in the end, signifies or matters. It is easy to see how'this form of madness leads to moral breakdown and corruption. The second way is to say that we can know' everything (at lea~t in principle). Knowledge is graspable and finite. This is manifested in the various ideali~sms, dogmatisms, and fundamentalisms which drive people mad. It is also easy to see how this leads to a moral bankruptcy of a different order: a bankruptcy of.legalism. Both ways of madness have a root cause: the lust for security (not unlike the two forms of gnosticism which were and are manifested in libertinism and rigorism). "Nagging doubts engender rigid certainties." One way invites us to get lost in a desert of nothingness of the°destructive kind. The other lures us into a jungle of moralism. Both are places where the human spirit soon dies. The dilemma is this: how to have something, to live for, an ideal, a goal, a vision, without our vision being deified, our ideal being the cloak for megalomania. There is a way to resolve.the dilemma. It is a hard way, however. It is the way of prayer. The Christian call to contemplation is an antidote to individual and collective madness, particularly to the epistemological madness, which is attacking our culture now. Lonergan's four precepts are, in effect, the structuring of an epistemology which covers our "knowing" from direct experience, to inquiry and under-standing, through reflection and judgment to decisive action. His sources and references are interesting--Horney, Maslow, Rogers, and Piaget. They all stress the social and historical character of human knowledge. Indeed, Lonergan is the first major theologian I have discovered who really takes the development of human consciousness seriously. Ironically, the only other place that I know of where there is an analogous.ascending scheme of epistemology is in mystical theology. There we begin with study, move into prayer, and end in contemplation. Most of what we call knowledge is really only the first form, study. It is very important and in no way to be despised. Contemplation is not simply the beholding of God in a non-vocal, non-discursive way. In the end, it is that. But it is also simply taking as large a view of things as possible: ltis a mode of knowing, a way of considering every kind of knowledge . It is a free and clear ~regard of the soul, directed to the object of knowledge, gathering in comprehensive-ly many single points, dwelling thoughtfully and poised in wonder upon its object.~9 Now tla~s is a contemplative method of approaching all knowledge. It is only a metho~l, not the method. Indeed, the analytical method is also very im-portant. But unless all our knowing points to a loving contemplative end we ar~ bound to fall into one or other of the traps of epistemological madness. ~ Kirchberger, op. cit., p. 39. '~ 74 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 We.will find Qurselves either;among the libertines or among the rigorists: the know-nothings or the know-it-alls. Contemplation does not require sacrificium intellectus sorightly feared by philosophers and theologians. It does, however, require sacrificing the primacy of theintellect. Contemplation requires its dethronement. It seeks to reverse [he process~of its reification and deification. The intelligentia (for the Victorines, for examp!e, who were Catholic humanists, fundamentally op-timistic about the human condition) is the instrument of the contemplative act, suspended, it is true, during ecstasy, but essential afterwards for integra-tion and interpretation. Intelligentia here is, of course,, not so much the naked intellect of discursive reasoning, but rather an intuitive vision, a sort of unitive principle at the heart of the intelligence which.seeks to harmonize experience. Richard of St. Victor, _for example, says that: the character of contemplation varies in three ways¯ Sometimes it effect~ an enlarging of the mind, sometimes a raising and sometimes an abstraction¯The enlarging of the mind is when the gaze of the soul expands widely and is intensely sharpened, but this in no way goes beyond the limit~of human effort. The raising of the mind is when the activity of the intelligence, d!vinely.i/lluminated, transcends the limits of human effort but does not go over into ecstasy, so that what is sees is above its powers but the soul does not withdraw from its accustomed way~ of knowing . Ecstasy is when the memory of things present withdraws from the mind and it moves by a transfiguration divinely wrought, into a state of soul attainable'by"hunian effort . The first is caused by human effort, the third only ¯ by divine grace, the middle one by a mingling of both, namely human industry and divine grace. Our concern here as theologians is with the first mode of contemplation, with the first step in the third mode in our ascending scheme of epistemology. Richard. goes on to tell his readers that this first step (the enlarging of the mind) . ¯ can be dev~eloped in,three.ways: by art, by exercise, by,a,ttention. We attain the art of' doing someihing when we learn how it is to be done either from good masters or by in-vestigation. The exercise is when we put into practice what we learnt of the art and make ourselves quick and e'~fective in carrying out this practice. Attention is whi:n we reflect . with effort on what we have carried out with great diligence . By these three degrees., the depth,,of mind is widened and made more apt for any kind of Aear~ning or skill." This is not a bad description of educational method as rooted in a move-ment of contemplation which leads into the great knowing of "unknowing," to the knowledge which is love. But, aswe have seen, even this mystical ecstasy is not the end, nor is itthe sole object of our spiritu~al life (the furni.shing of our hacienda!) There is one more act of sacrifice required. "T, he.,la~s~ self-surrender to.God is the surrender of the self-centered desire for Go~, and the final possession o~God on.earth :comes.in union, with Christ's fruit-bearing Ibid., pp. 183-184(Benjamin Major V, ch. II). Ibid., p. 186 (Benjamin Major V, ch. 111). Spirituality and Theolo~,y. /175 life of sacrifice and gervice to the brethren and all 'mankind.'''2 The end of Christian contemplation, then, is always compassion. Presumably it is also the end of theology. As Lonergan says, man achieves authenticity in self-transcendence. One canlive in a world, have a horizon, ~ just in the meastJre that one is not locked up in oneself. As the question of God is ~mpllClt ~n all our questlomng, so being ~n love with God ~lS the basic fulfdlment of our conscious intentionality.'" ~ ~ I fully acknowledge the tendency of~.this strange subject to be.~a parasite on the backs~of the other disciplines. It seems to encroach on territory not its own~ Itcan be annoyin~ and vague and at the same' time'arrogant and preten-tious. It needs help an, d understan~ding ~f itis no(to be a Cuckoo lhying its eggs in the meticulous and well-constructed nests of others. In a way, Christian ~pirituality does not have a separate existence of its own. It exists only in rela-tion to other disciplines, but I would like to see it develop symbiotic rather than parasitic relationships. I repeat, the final end of Christian mysticism is compassion. In Richard of St. Victor's De Quatuor gradibus violentae caritatis (notice here that love is passionate!) he writes that there are four stages in the mystical ascent. There is knowledge of self (meditation). Then there is the ascent to God (contempla-tion). Thirdly there is absorption into God(whichRichard calls jubilation and which, alas, often gets identified as thepoint of mysticism). Fourthly, there is the going forth from God (compassio~n),." In the first degree, God enters into the s~ul and she turns inward into herself. In the second, she ascends above herself and is lifted up to God. In the third the soul, lifted up to God, passes over altogether into-him. In ~he fourth the s0ul gbes forth on God's behalf and descends below herself. In the first she enters~into h'~rsblf, in the second she goes forth from herself. In the first she reaches her own life, in the third she reaches God. In the first she goes forth on her own behalf, in the fourth she goes forth because of her neighbor. In the~ first' ~lie enii~rs in by meditationl.in the secondshe ascends bylcoi~templa-tion, in the third she is led into jubilation, in thefourth: ~she goes out by co~npassion." Theologyi~pushed by!its own p~o~bihg anffliv~ely'fin, certainties, ends either with compassion or with despair and cynicism. , Just as unrestricted questioningis our capacity for sdf-transcendence, so being in love in ~ an unrestricted fashion is the proper fulfillment of that capacity. That fulfillment is not the product of our kno.wledge and choice. On the contrary, it dismantles and abolishes the horizon in which our knowing and choosing went on and it sets up a new horizon in which the love of God will transvalue our values and the eyes of that love will transform our knowing.'~ _, But the very experience of transcendence raises the very issues which theology must continually face. Ibid., p. 46. Kirch'berger, op. cit., p. 224. '~ Lonergan, op. cit~, pp. 104-105. '~ Lonergan, op. cir., p. 106. 176 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 Man's response to transcendent mystery is adoration . Accordingly, which mystery is not to be confused with problem, the ongoing contexts within whic~ mystery is adored and adoration is explained are anything'~ut free from problems.", Academic theology comes into its own' by probing those experiences which otherwise would rob Christianity of its giveness and strangeness.~ Rigorous theo!ogy saves Christi~.nity from becoming domesticated and f~mili~ar. Le! me end with a quotation from Diadochus Photic~:. . the theologian tastes something of the experie_nce of the contemplative, provided he is humble; and the contemplative will little by little know something of the power of speculation, if he keeps the d~isce~rning part of his soul free from error. But the two gifts are rarel§ found to the same degree in the same person, so that each may wonder at the other's abundance, and thus humility may increase in each." Ibid., pp. 344-345. " Louth, op. cir., p. 14. Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knigh~t Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Celibate Friendship Brian O'Leary, S.J. Father O'Leary is a staff-member of Manresa House; Dollymount; Dublin, 3; Ireland. He characterizes the present article as complementary to his first one, ~'Reflections on Apostolic Celibacy" (May, 1979), "dealing with the horizontal dimension where the other dealt with the vertical." One of the difficulties with using the word celibacy in the context of religious life is that .the primary meaning of the word is negative: abstinence from marriage, or the unmarried life, the state of .non-marriage. But if con- ~secrated celibacy is agift from God, then it cannot be so~ethi~.n.g negative. At most it :can have a negative aspect or side effect, aconcomitant frustration or ~'painful limitation. But the gift itself must be positive. Religious celibacy is for living, for loving. It has everything to do with interpersonal relationships: with the God of Abraham, 1.saac and Jacob; with Jesus, :the enfleshed and full revelation of that God; with peopib, men and women, near and far, good and evil. It has to do with love received and love given; with life lived to the full through carin~ and being cared fore through reachir~g o~ut and being reached out to, through c6mmitment to people and having peop!e committed to us. Our relationships with God and with people ai'e closely intertwined. Our Iexperience of being loved by God and loving God is somehow dependent on o~" exp'erience of being loved by people and loving people. St. John wrote: "Anyone who says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, is a liar, since a man who does not love the brother that he can see cannot love God, whom he has never seen" (I Jn 4:20). We can also argue! a man Who does not experience the love of his brother whom he can see, cannot experience love of God whom he has never seen. We need to give and receive a love which is tangible in order to give and receive a love which is !ntangible. Remembei" the lines ot: William Blake: 177 178 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, .1980 / 2 i looked for my soul but my soul 1 could not see. 1 looked for my God but my God eluded me. I looked for a friend and then l found all three. ~ Religious are not usually exempt from this dependence on human love and friendship in their seai'ch for God. Celibacy itself, far from lessening our need of the experience of love, is offering us a greater freedom in loving, and conse-quently a greater facility in finding God. This latter ideal is well expressed in the Autobiography of St. Ignatius where we read: His devotion, that is, his ease in finding God, has always continued to increase and now more than in his whole life. Each time and hour that he wanted to find God~ he found him? This is the experience of a lover, but of one whose love had been purified since the immature days of his young manhood when his love for God and people had leaned more to the fanciful than the real. Describing his convalescence from his war wounds received :at Pampl.ona he says: Of the many vain things that presented themselves to him, one took such a hold on his heart that he was absorbed in thinking about it for two or three or four hours without realizing it: he imagined what he would do in the service of a certain lady, the means he would take so he could go to the country where she lived, the verses, the words he would say to her, the deeds of arms he would do in her service. He became so conceited with this ~ that he did not consider how impossible it would be because the lady was not of the lower nobility nor a countess or a duchess, but her station was higher than any of these.~ . ~ Because Ig'natius' experience of human love at that ti~me'was of this dreamy, romantic kind,'his way of loving God was similar: to undertake great and ar-dubus deeds and penances" such as his spiritual heroes had undertaken: St. Dominic did this, therefore, 1 have to do it. St. Francis did this, 'therefore, i have to do it.~ There was far more of Ignatius in that way of loviiag than there was of God. But gradually h~gi'ew both in human love and in divine love, parallel ex-periences keeping pace with° one another, inextricably intertwined, almost be~:oming one." Finding God in all things ahd all things in God. What then can b~ said about human love? A very great d~al if we judke by the' ~tmount that has been written about it from early epic poetry through lyric poetry, drama, thenQ~el and other literary genres. But .let us take just one series of reflecti6hs from a modern psychologist, Erich Fromm. The Autobiography of St. lgnatiu's' Loyola, Harper Torchbooks (1974), p. 93. Op. cit., p. 23. ~ Ibid. Cefibate Friendship What does one person give to another? He gives of himself of.the most precious he has, he gives of his life. This does not necessarily mean that he sacrifices his life for the other, but.that he gives him of that which is alive in him; he gives him of his joy, of his interest, of his understanding, of his knowledge, of his humor, of his sadness, of all expressions and ~a~ifestations of that which is alive in him. In~ thus giving of his life, he enriches the other person, he enh~ances the other's sense of aliveness by enhancing his own sense of aliveness. He does not give in order to receive; giving is in itself exquisite joy~' Fromin's emphasis here on one's aliveness that is giveri,~shared and enhanced reminds us of the statement of St. lrenaeus: "The glory of God is man fully alive." If wetake glory in its biblical meaning as a visible and tangible manifestatioff of God's presence, as in a broad sense of sacrament of God's presence, then'we can see how in truly human love God can be found and ex-perienced. It is not a question of arguing from the reality of human love to the realitY, of divine love, but rather of experiencing divine love through the ex-perience of human love. To shut oneself off from human love either through fear or inhibition or anxiety or some stoical ideal of spirituality is to cut oneself off from the p6ssibility of touching and being touched by thedivine. Strange as it may seem', mature human love does not come easily and spon-tane0usl~ to us. If left unreflected on and undirected, our loving tends to be egocentric, selfish, possessive, jealous--in a word, sinful.' Mature love demands all the patience and pain and even dying associate~l with growth. For most people, whether Christian or not, the normal ambience for such~growth to maturity is the family. This can be a schpol~o_f generous, self-g~ving love through_.the muluple relationships which kmt tts meml6ers tok'~lier. G~wng, receiving, sharing, each alter~ates--h~ i--~'~a~p-'~f~"~i|y that is closely united in love, yet otie that is not closed in u.p6n itself in a complacent, smug manner.~ The family itself has to. be open to others. It was in our own families that we first learned experientially about love, and we carry that gift with us throughout our lives. Conversely, we also carry the inevitable limita-tions and.deficiencies of that experience throughout our~ lives. Hence the need for being in touch with our past, for forgiveness and I~he letting go of resent-ments, and bitterness, for self-acceptance and the,~healing of memories. But now as adults we are called to a different life-style, one demanding the renunciation of any possibility'of founding a family of our own and bringing new human life into the world. This means that we are renouncing the use of the most natural and normal means for growing in mature, human love. Such a decision is not to be taken lightly. We must be sure that we can grow without such help. Ours is a minority kind of vocation,,~a minority life-style. But the call is still growth, maturity and love. The road may be,steeper, in many ways more solitary, but'it will also be less encumbered. There are two paradoxical 4~, requirements: to develop a capacity and even a desire~.for solitude, and to develop a capacity for deep and lasting friendships. Solitude and friendship ¯ The Art of Loving, Unwin Paperbacks (1975), p. 27. 180 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 are the two keys to a'healthy, integrated, celibate life. In both we find ourselves, the other, and God. Friendship in the lives bf religious takes many forms,, is experienced in many contexts, and has many degrees of intensity. As we live in comm~unity we are first challenged to look for friendships there. Ideally, at least, some close relationships in this. arena should be possible. ~Then there are the people whom we serve in our direct apostolate and those others with whom we col-laborate; some friendships of depth' may well emerge from these sources. Finally, there are the friends ~wejust happen to form from chance meetings or strange coincidences. All of these together give us a wide range of relation-ships such as is healthy and envigorating for any person to hav.e. It~'is an enriching and broadening experience to have friends among many age-groups, different social classes, varied occupations, and so on. Through them we touch life and are touched by life. As we move across the spectrum from acquaintance to friendship to close friendship to deep, intimate love, the reality of our celibacy becomes moreand more pertinent. In a relationship of mere.acquaintance the fact of being a con-secrated celibate is almost irrelevant, but in.a relationship of deep loving it becomes central. Some religious feel safer hovering around the center of that spectrum--and undoubtedly they are. But for others the call to take the risk of deep loving is part of God's call to respond to His love.This they accept with joy, yet they remain aware that their celibacy is a fragile as well as a beautiful gift, and that it has to be guarded as-well as celebrated. Relation-ships of deep, intimate, .human loving can exist between a man and a woman, a man and a man, a woman and a woman. So let us reflect on the conditions in which a religious might feel free to sustain and foster such a relationship. 1. The religious must be mature. As we have seen, maturity is a process of growth, and so the requirement of being mature is 'in some sense relative. What it means basically is that the person be comfortable with his or her own sexuality, be able to know and accept himself or herself as a sexual being. Fur- ,ther, his or her desire must be to create an adult'relationship between equals, not one of emotional dependency. This latter could happen should someone Ibe searching for a deep relationship out of a need,'overt or latent, to relieve or escape from acute loneliness. ~., 2. The religious must be.well rooted in his celibate calling. This will include having a strong personal attachment to Jesus, to the Church, to the order or congregation, to the apostolate. It presupposes a sound and vibrant life of prayer. Deep relationships starting from an insecure commitment can lead one out of religious life, o~ toan alienated existence within. 3. There mustbe an awareness and understanding of the other person's sexuality, and of his or her capacities, weaknesses and needs. An awareness also of the inevitable tendency towards greater intimacy, physical as well as Celibate Friendship psych61ogical. Hence there has to be moderation in the bodily expression of tenderness, affection and love. Touch can be a. beautiful language of com-munic~ ition, more expressive than the spoken or written word, but it can also be a 'gateway to mere~ gratification. It is not enough for a religious only to avoid sexual sin, but he must be sensitiveto the truth of every gesture, and to questions such as: "What is this action doing to the other person? What is it saying to him? In what emotional state is it leaving him?" Self-knowledge and sensitivity to the other go hand in hand. 4. Besides being grounded in one's own vocation, the religious must also affirm and desire the growth of the other in his vocation. This means really wanting and working for the other's growth in celibacy (should he be a religious), or for the other's growth in married love (should he be married). Should the other person be single, the religious must be careful not to stunt the other's affective growth in relationships with other men and women, thus cut-ting off the chance of marriage. Finally, any giving in to a sterile fantasy: "If only things were different"; "if only we were free"; "if only we had met earlier in life," is dangerous, and constitutes a degree of unfaithfulness to our commitment to Christ. 5. The relationship must not be exclusive. The ideal is to be totally non-possessive, and in that sense truly free. The ability to make and sustain other friendships with either sex should be fostered. Celibate love is primarily universal in character. 6. The relationship must be open. This means'o(a) open to God. The two people involved should be able to pray with sincerity about their love both in-dividually and together. In such prayer ]hey will receive guidance and strength. But such guidance and strength is also mediated through people, and ~o such a relationship should also be (b) open io spiritual directors, superiors, mutual friends. There is n~eed of a.constant evaluatioffof such a relationship, and a third party (this can mean one or more persons) can be helpful and ob-jective. Any tendency to hide a relationship, to secretiveness and furtive behavior is a danger signal. 7. There must be a willingness to endure pain, to go through difficult times. This is required in all human loving, but it is especially necessary in celibate love 6f a deep kind because in such love we allow, to a greater 0r lesser extent, the frustrating aspect of.celibacy to surface and be experienced. To the degree that the dynamic towards exclusivit~y and sexual union develop, to that. degree will it become more painful to keep on choosing celibacy. The person unable to tolerate such pain either leaves religious life, or, as in no. 2 above, he endures an alienated existence within his community. 8. By their fruits you shah know them. A relationship such as this cannot be divorced from every other aspect of the celibate's life. If the loving is healthy, life,giving and creative, it will enhance the quality of the person's prayer, community living, apostolic commitment, other relationships, and in-deed his general well-being. By using these criteria it is to be expected that the 182 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 relationship will aid positively to the growth of the person involved, ~n.o.tTbe something merely neutral' or indifferent,~but rather be a~strong contribut~ing factor to human and spirit.ual development. Thins aim is admittedly very,,high,. but one who is living the'qonsecrated life should be able and willing to accept. these criteria, demanding as they are, and eval~uate any intimate relationship accordingly . Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development by Philip D. Cristantiello Price: $.60 per copy; plus postage. .Address': Review for' Religious Room 428 ~ 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the Church Suzanne Noffke, O.P. Sister Suzanne; past president of the Racine Dominican Sisters, having just completed a' new and unabridged translation, of the Dialogue of Catherine, dev?tes herself full time to ,research, writing, and speaking on Catherine and her thought.,. Sister Suzanne resides at 2070 Allen Blvd., #2; Mid~leton, WI 54562. atherine of Siena~ was a woman who knew to,an amazing depth who she was--because she responded with such amazing: fidelity to God's revelation to her of who he is. That revelation, was nev~er for .Ca,therine (nor is it for .any of us) one finished pa~ckage, oNo, she entered. Jnto, it ~lyvel by level throughout her life as she met each new insight and wrestled with its implications and demands. But essentially there were~always those two t~hreads: Catherine knew God as boundless Truth and Love, and she knew herself as limited and even sinful, yet°loved a~d gifted, o The dynamic of Catherine's growth could be very appropriately described in terms of~the classic "transcendental precepts": ~ , Be attentive. Be intelligent. Be reasonable., Be responsible. Her attentiveness to divine initiative in her life is obvious at every stage of her awareness; it was so sacred a matter for her, in fact, that she regarded any failure in that attentiveness as a breach in. fidelity. She was very conscious of, and delighted in,°the active play of her own understanding as an intelligent be-ing in ,re,,ceiving GOd's manifestation of himself. But the play and the deligl~t were never a short-circuited contemplationS: her reason searched out the im- 183 184 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/2 plications of what she saw; and her whole being owned and responded to thoge implications in her living, no matter what the cost to herself. It is so far the picture of a beautifully human, thoroughly moral and noble person, and a discussion of mission and ministry could legltimately be drawn from it. Yet if our model encompassed only these levels--even in faith--the total reality of Catherine, and the fullest ideal of Christian mission and ministry would be muted to a kind of drudgery of diaty well done. Such could conceivably be true and heroic holiness, but we are invited to so much morel Bernard Lonergan captured the sense of this "more" when he added to the four transcendental precepts a fifth: Be in love~' . Now we may love many people, but.to be in love is a much more rare and precious phenomenon. Catherine did not simply love God: she was madly (she herself uses that modifier again and again) in love. And it was one in love that she was attentive, intelligent, reasonable, and responsible. It was love that fired her urgent sense of being sent, her sense of mission to ministry. If we would learn about mission and ministry from Catherine, we must remember that we are looking at and listening to a woman in love. And we must remind ourselves that God is in love with us too~, and that we too are in-vited beyond simply lok, ing him to the mad sanity of being-in-love: "not that we have loved God, but that God has loved us!''2 A Question of Discipleship We are dealing here.with the whole question of dis.cipleship. A disciple is One who learns from another's person as much as from his body 0f teaching: And a disciple in the gospel t~'adition is ultimately and most imme~diately a disciple of Jesus~ Any others who are models and guides' in the Christian ~vay are such only because, and insofar as, they are, first, true disciples themselves. "Take me as your model," writes Paul, "as I take Chris~?'3 In the end, "you have only one teacher, the Christ."' " ' ¯ Catherine's ~rescription for those who would be guides to others describes well her understanding of her own role toward those who were her 'disciples: Be trumpeters of the incarnate Word, God's Son, not only with your voice but with your deeds. Learn from the Master of t(uth, who practiced virtue before he preached it. In this way you will produce fruit and be the channel through which God will pour his grace into the hearts of those who hear you? Catherine, true disciple that she is, can well be both model and teacher to us, for her life speaks as forcefully as doher writings, which could have grown only out of such a life. Method in Theology. LondOn: Darlon, Longman and T0dd,_1972, p. 13. 1Jn 4:'10. ~ I C6 11:1". Letter 226, to Raymond of Capua, c. i376~ ' Mt 23:10. Catherine of Sienb: Mission and Ministry in the Church The Context of Mission and Ministry for Catherine ~ , All of Catherine's life and all that she says about specific questions can be fully understood only/in the context of hei" m.ost bhsic convictions. In isolation from these, so muchwould be--and has been--~ubject to misrepresentation. So, even at the risk of distorting by over-brevity, let me at least summarize'the faith that most centrally dictated the shape of her interpretation of mission and ministry. ' The God with whom C~therine is in love'is at once "gentle first Truth" and "Love itself." Jesus, God's on'ly-begotten Son, God's Word, is Truth in-carnate, the one Way in love for sinful humanity to find reconciliation with the ~Father. Along this Way--Catherine describes him in her Dialogue as the bridge it is in the Church as in a hostelry.that God provides the food and shelter, the companionship and rest without which we pilgrims would surely faint or fall back long before we would reach our destination. In fact, the head of the Church is "Christ-on-earth." Only he holds~the keys to the wine cellar in which is stored :the blood of Jesus, the sole source of life and salvation. And, for Catherine, there-is nc~ other way to union with God but through the open heart of Jesus. God alone--in himself and in Jesus and, analogously, in the Church--is deserving of unqualified love (senza modo). Everyone and everything else is to be loved only con modo--with love that is qualified and conditioned and limited by its relationship with God. Because of this very strong'sense 6f relativity, issues which may loom large in our considerations often 'get from Catherine what may seem short shrift to us. Some of the difference,"it is true~ is cultural; but that fact should not allow us to miss the more signi.ficant difference that cbhaes from this underlying sense of relativity -- a 'sense that is still as ~valid today as it was in fourteenth-century Tuscany. When we are in love, all things are relative~tothe one we love. With this context firmly in mind we can turn as disciples to Catherine and let her person and her words speak to our own convictions about our mission to ministry in the Church. The Foundation and Principle of Mission and Ministry Basic to ~the who|e question of mission and.ministry-for Catheriiae was the same principle she applied to preaching: that we must practice virtue first, then preach it. Jesus, she writes in the Dialogue, never taught what he had not first lived himself. We are useless to others unless we have within ourselves what we would share with them. She writes of herself in the Prologue to the Dialogue that "she knew that she could be of no service to her neighbors in teaching or example or prayer without first doing herself the service of attain-ing and p~ossessing virtue.''6 "We will never be able to nourish our neighbors," she w'rites to a group of women in Naples, "unless we first feed our own souls with true solid virtues. 186 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/, 2 And we cannot be nourished with virtue unless we cling to the breast of divine chari~ty from which we draw, the milk of divine tenderness."~7 The image is a double one: the bre, ast of divine charity is t0e.open heart of Jesus. In prayer we look into this open heart and see "the secret of the bloo~"~--that God loves us so.madly that his Song's death was not too high a price to pay for_ our love--and seeing ourselves so madly loved, we o in response fall madly in love with God. But prayer itself is imaged by ~Catherine as a mother: it~ is prayer that conceives and gives b!rth to virtue within us, and with.gut prayer the virtue which ministers in love to our neighbors is im-possible . ,. Where, indeed, will we c~tch the fragranc~ of obedlence?~ In ffrayer. Where will we strip ourselves of th~ selfish love that makes us impatient in the face of hurt and other dif-ficulties, and clothe ourselves in divine love, finding our glory in the cross of Christ crucified? In prayer/. Where do we express love and faith and hope and humility? In prayer. In fact, we would not bother to look for what we did not love; but when we do love we always want to,be united with the objec.t of our love--and he_re that object is God.° Where, finally, will we catch the fragrance of coniinence and purity, and a hunger for martyrdom that makes us willing to give our lives for God's honor and the good of sot~ls? Always in th~s gentle mother, prayer . Truly, p~rayer i~ a nio'iher. If'is she who conceives virtues as her children in love for God, and ~ives them birth in love for our neighbors/° There is no ministry, then, without virtue; no~ is there virtue withbut prayer. It is in prayer, that we are sent out, missioned, into action. And once the dynamic has been set in motion by our response ~o God,s initiative, prayer and ministry ~feed;each other: 'prayer drives us out to serve, and our service drives us back into prayer. Indeed, if0both are genuine in themselves, each becomes in.a sense the other: prayer~is a ministry and ministry a prayer. There'ar~ two ways to pray (Catherine writes): The firsi way is that of Continualprayer; that is, ,that constant lioly desire which of itself .prays before God in everything a person does. Indeed, such desire directs all our actions, whether spiritual or temporal, to his honor. That is why it is called continualprayer.'~ Continual prayer, then, is nothing other than holy desire' and the gentle movement of iove.,~ , What fruit do we derive from this sort of prayer? A peaceful quiet within us to which nothing is a stumbling~block: . Nothing wearies or troubles it. Nor does it let us. be ~.Dialogue, I. (All quotations from the Dialogue are taken from the new translation of that work to be publis.hed by Pat~list Press in January, 1980.) See~also Dialogue, 29. Letter 356 .,to thr~e women of Naples. Letter 353, to three women of Naples, 1379. Letter 26, to her niece, Sister Eugenia, a nun in the monastery of'Sf. Agnes at M0t~tepulciah0'. ~ Letter 353. ~, ~ ~ " " Ibid. '~ Letter 22, to Abbot Martino di Pass, ignano of Vallombrosa. Catherine of siena: MiSsion and Ministr.V in the Church / 187 'ideceived when our soul hankers airier our~own room, tO bask there in consolation and peace. It does not even regret having to do something else when we ~,ould prefer to be actually at prayer. No, it extracts from that something else the perfume of humility and the firb of, love for our neighbors. ~ "i'he sec6nd way'is that of vocalprayer, that is, speaking wiih oiie's tong~ae to say the~Of-rice or other oral prayers. This way is designed to bring us to the third way, mental prayer. This is a~:complished when, with I~rudence and humility., we use our minds in vocal prayer--that is, when we pray in such a way that, while we.are speaking with our i~ngue, our h~art is never far from God. Indeed, we should alw~ays try, to set our heart firmly in the love of divine charity." . urging our mmd always to think of, to offer, and t6 receive the i~ pulse of God's love more than-the sound of the.words." It is ume to give honor to God and wear ourselves out for our neighbors: wear ourselves out physically by bearing with everything, a~nd.wear ou_rselve~ out spiritually by offering continual, humble prayer in Ggd's presence with angui~shed longing, with bitter tears and sweat. ' 6 The complementarity of prayer and action, then, is'one of integration, not of mere alternation. Catherine would not be at all at home with the image we have sometimes used, that of a car which needs to return perio~dically to the gas pump for fuel in order to keep running. Her own image of the fountain and the jfig, though she used it in another context, is much more app~'opriate. The fountain is God and his love and truth. "If you take your Jug out of the fountain to dri~k," she writes, "it is soon empty. But if y0o h01d your j~gin the fountain whild you drink, it ~ill~n0t get empty;~ifide~d, it will'always be full." '' In this image, the more we drink from this jug, the more r~om there is f6r it to be filled, and the more i~ is filled, the more we have to drink (or to share). ° What," then, determines" what time shall'be given to bxl~licit praye~, and w~at 'to the ministry of action'?. Precisely ~hat initiative from God which is called mission., Not simply our own inclinatibn,.but the action of the Spirit made kno~'n through oppoit~nit3~, obedience, ~3r dema~nds of lb~;e. Be very.conscientious and persevering in frequenting the holy place of prayer'as,often " .an, d as long as the Holy Spirit offers you the 9pportuni!y. Do not,avoid'it or run a~aYo ~;o from . it ,even if it should cost you your life. Never abandon,~ t,oht .of tenderness or com-passion for your body.~ You must not break away from holy prayer for any reason whatever except obedience or It is'Prayer, .therefore, that~ holds the place of primacy. But¯~ervice is its " Lettei 154, to'Brother Francesco T~baldi of Florence, i3"~8~ t, Letter 353. ~ ~ ~; '~ Letter 154. ~ ~ :, ,6 Letter 296, to Don Giovanni delle Celle, c. 1376. "Dialogue, 64. " Letter 187, to Don Giovanni Sabbatini of Bologna and Don Taddeo de' Malavohi Of Siena, monks of Certosa anti, Be riguardo, c. 1375. '~ Dialogue, 65. 188. /Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 ,/2 , necessary fruit and touchstone. Effective love for others is the expression of true love for God. So God says in the Dialogue: I ask you to love me with the same love which I love you. But for me you cannot do this, for I loved you without being loved. Whatever love you have for me you owe me, so you love me, not gratuitou[ly, but out of duty, while I love you, not out of duty, but grati~itously. So you cani~ot gi~'e me the kind of love i ask of you. This is why I have put you among your neighbors: so thal you can do for-them wha! you cannot do for me--that is, love them without any concern for thanks and without looking for a~ny p[ofit for yourself. And whatever you do foi- them 1 Will consider done for me.2° We cannot, in fact, honestly claim to have even conceived .virtue if we never bring it to birth'for our neighbors. (Again God is speaking.) Virtue, once conceived, must come to birth. Therefore, as soon as the soul has conceived through loving affection,oshe gives bii'ih for her neighbors' sake. And just as she loves m~ in truth, so also she serves her neighbors in truth. Nor could she do otherwise, for love of me and love of neighbor are one and the same thing: since love of neighbor has its source in me, the more the soul loves me, the more she loves her neighbors.2' Catherine not onlY, preached this integration of prayer and virtue and ministry; she lived it more and more deeply as her intimacy with God deep-ened. Her three years 6f alm.ost total silence and solitude were more than merely ~ '°'filling of the fuel tank" for the life of service that was (o begin to blossom at their end. Catherine entered that solitude, one very much centered on the relationship between herself and God, and it was atime of growth fbr her in mystical union with him. But in that solitude was growingalso.the small seedling of another relationship. The ~ulmination of those three years came in a double-edged experience which puzzled Catherine herself. During the night of Carnival in 1368 she had reached a high pitch of inten-sity" in the p~ayer~that had--perhaps incongruously to us in vie~; of her mysticism--been her l~r~occupation for months: prayer foi" th~ gift of faith. Raymond of Capua iells us that she had consistently sensed in i'~sponse to her pleadings the promise voiced in the prophet Hosea: "I will e~pbuse you to myself in, faith.''~ Yet she had never been satisfied that her prayer had been granted. On this night, however, she knew that it had, ih the experience we know as her mystical espousals. Catherine's rapture knew no bounds: she would have been content to rest where she was forever. But just as un-mistakably as the intimacy of faith carrie the mission of faith--in terms of which, frustratingly, on the very heels of rapture, the very Christ who had finally drawn~her to his wedding-chamber began to drive l'ier out of solitude to service. But note that this was not'the end of the prayer of solitude in Catherine's life. Rather she began to learn the very integration of the two, an integration Dialogue, 64. ~' Dialogue, 7. n Ho 2:22. Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the Church / 189 of wtiich she would later speak so forcefully toothers. Prayer and ministry, love of God and love of neighbor are, Christ tells her, the two feet on which she must walk, the two wings on which she must fi~, 23 Neither. can be complete without the ~ther. And as the circles" of Catherine's involvement widened, her ministry in action intensified her need for prayer in solitude, while her very prayer drove her more and more to con-cern for others. She knew'with the thirst of the psalmist in the parched desert how essential it is to "hold one's jug in the f~untain even as one drinks." And if the call of olSedi+nce afid°lo~,e filled her days to a dizzying pace she would seize the opportunity' of ii~e night to bring it all with her" whole self in quiet before God. As surely as she knew that he was with her in her ministry-- for it was he who,constantly sent her--she knew that she needed time and space to be consciously in his presence in what she calls "the holy place of prayer." The Specifics of Mission and Ministry ~)ut of the dialectice of Catherine's prayer~ an~l action grew the strong specific convictions concerning mission and ministry that dictated her own pat.h :and.her .counsel to' others. She never, even in her Dialogue, attempted a ~systematic presentation of this or any other matt, er. Nor .will 1 attempt to. draw out of her works what could be considered a full "theology of ministry.:' But it is~possible and decidedly worth the effort to pull together in some logical order the bits of. her refle.ction on the question in both the Dialogue and her .letters, and to say something ,again of how she herself lived what she taught. For the implications of any given insight w.ere~for Catherine, very concretely and practically the call of obedience. What; then, has she to tell us?, First of all, and at the basis of any sense of mission, of being sent, is the reality that in his very gifts in us God commissions us to specific ministries. His gifting is,in itself,a call: ¯ - I have distributed [all my gifts] in such a way (he says in the Dialogue) that no one has all of thefia. ~hus I have given you rea~son-- hecessity, in fact to I~ractice mutual charity. For I could~well have supplied each of you with all your needs . But'l wanted to.make you dependent on one another ,so tha~t each of you would be my minister, dispensing the grace~ and gifts you have received~from me. So whether you will it or n~t, you cannot escape the exercise of charity!Z' In another part of the Dialogue the Father becomes even more explicit about'the providence of this interdependence he has built into the economy of creation by the variety of our gifts:°. . In this mortal life so long as y9u are pilgrims, I have bound you with the chain of.charity. Whether you want it or not, you are so bound. If you should break loose by not wanting to live in charity for your neighbors, by force will you still be bound by it. So, that you Raymond of Capua, Legenda Major, ch. 121. Dialogue, 7. 190 / Review for Religiousj Volume 39, 1980 o may practice charity-in action and.in will, I in my provid~ence did not~giveto any one,p_er-son or to each indivi_dually the knowledge for doing ever~y~hing necessary for human life., No, I gav~ something to one, something blse to another, so that each one's need would be a reason to have recourse to~ tti~ other. So thoukh yofi ?hay los('your 'wili for cl~i~:ii'y ° because of your wickedness, you will at least be forced by your o~wn ne'~d'to practice it in action. Thus you see the artisan turn to the worker and th~.workeroto theartisan: each has a need of the other.becaus~ neither.knows how to do what the o~th.e~-.~does. So also the j-0 cleric and rehg~ous' " havek need. of the layperson,.and~ the. layperson. ~r~ ,~ ofo. the religious; neither can get ~long without the other. And so with everything else. Could I not have given everyone everything? Of course. But in my~providence I wanted, to make each of you dependent on the others, so that you would be forced to exercise chanty In action andwl at once." ~ ¯ Catherine hers'~lf had 'a'kind of genius for matching ,her gifts (and .she knew hergifts as well a~ her limitations) with rieeds that wete~beii~g met by no one else. She was deeply sensitive, and she too.k on those cases among the poo( and the sick that called for more care than others were able or willing to give. Sh'~had aqaiercing and uncompromising vision which she shared with reluc-tant listeners as ~vell as with the willing~ what needed saying she ~would say! Whe6. it seemed that' som~ of her followers neededra cl0ister~and,,there was none tliat,matched their r~eed~,-she founded one.~When she~sensedothe gaping, lack ~of holines~ amid thb p~litics of the pope's 'advisers~ she,called °foro.'a "papal counciW of holy persons who would fill the vacuum. Notall of'her:~f-forts met with tangible success; some of her grandest d~eams ~.ame in crashing failure'tlowri on her head~:~ Yet she owned "the mission defined'~by~her:, gift6dness, and~never disowned responsibility for the resu.lts~--:-'~ though sh~ alsb had the ability, so very rare, to let go ofo~rojects that.,~;proved,counter-productive. She knew her own dependence on 6thers a~ Wellas shb knew .that others depended On her. She knew~what it means to be gifted and "missioned. But it is' notS'merely a natural interdependence that~constitutes~ mission: Mission is inseparable from the need of sinful humanity~for redemption, and therefore it demands entry into the redeeming life and passion of Jesus, not only for oneself, but for the,sake of others as well. Those in, m~ss~on const~t, ute more than the Red Cross or thecounty welfare.office,.and this larger perspec-tive (which must be no less than God's own) may put those,in mission in°the paradoxical position of encot~raging themselves and 6tliers in suffering as often as it puts.them in the effort of relieving it. Catherine c~lledit~'~th~ om-passionate'cruelty'and cruel conlpassion of the cross" and "feeding, on souls at. the table ofthe cr0~s." It is one of thoseoarenas where the truth of faithcan "blow" the mind of reason. The Father says in the Dialogue: . . it is by means'of my ser~,ants and their great sufferings thatl would be mei'cifu I to the world and ref6rm my bride [the Church]. ,r. Dialogue, 148. Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the ~Church '/~191 Truly these last can be called another Christ.crucified, my only-begotten Son, because they haye taken his task upon themselves. He came as a mediator to put an end to war and reconcile humanity to me in peace by suffering even to the shameful death of crucifixion. In the saine way must these b~ocrudfied and'become mediators ~n prayer, in word, in good holy living, setting themselves up as an exam pie to others. The precious stones of,. . virtue shine in their patience as they,be~ar others' sins. These are the hooks with which they catch souls?~ And Catherine writes to her friends and disciples: o You would be deceived if you wanted to feast at the ~tern~l Father's table while avoiding ~'~ feeding ~n souls at the table of the Son. It is, in fact, at this table'that we must eat this food, for it cannot be,had without suffering)' It is time to show whether or not we are lovers of Christ crucified, and whether we find our joy in.this food.28 One of the first indications o'~" this r~ederdptive sensitivify in Catherine sui'- faces at the tihae of her father's death in 1368. The sudden realization that even so good:a~person as her father may still not be fully purified of sinfulness cuts to the heart of her deeply human love for him, and she begs to be allowed to pay in her own suffering the "price" of this final purifi~ation:'~Later, as her real, felt, effective love reaches out to others,, so does thi~ d,esire to enter into their redemption. It becomes truly a hunger that she knows can be satisfied only on the cross. And her joy in being there is for that reason far t6o deep and much more meaningful than the masochism some have attributed to her. It is a fine line for discernment to'draw, ttiis kr~owledge of when suffei'ing (our 6wn or others') is part Of r~demptive providen(e," and when it i~ to be shunned,'c~onquerett, and alleviated.° Ironically, the issue probably~'~eem~ clearest to us at its extreme: "Proclaini the truth and let no fear silence it! 'Be liberal and generous, ready to ~give even your.life if necessary." Thus she wrote to Raymond of Capua,~9 and .the message probably does not strike us all that discordantly. There is no doubt that Chtherine longed to be allowed to enterjust 'that effectively into Christ's redeeming deatti. But is it one Of those face(s of t;eing madly in love with God that we perhaps take so for granted that we do not really sense its place in our own life and missibn'?. Are we not also called to live (and die) redemptively? But whatever the concrete circumstances oLthat redemptive.living and dy-ing may~be for each of us, Catherine reminds us again and again that Christian ministry demands integrity and courage. Cast from you any tenderness for yourself and any slavish fear. The dear Church has no need for that sort of person; she needs strong people who are merciless"when it comes to themselves and compassionate when it comes to her.'° Dialogue, 146. Letter 271, to Alessa Saracini, 1378. Letter 330, late 1378 or early 1379. Letter 373, to Raymond of Capua, February,25, 1380. Letter 296. 199 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 The others' are not action people but wind people who whirl about like leaves, without any consistency or stability. There is not room for shame or embarrassment in regard to our Christian-ity, nor ~for fear of openly owning Christ. We are reminded of Catherine's own natural sensitivity, her embarrassment through much of her life whenever her holiness was "found out," though she eventually was able to share so completely and seemingly unself-consciously. The imagery she uses in writing of this need to be proud to be known as a disciple of Christ is strikingly ' reminiscent of that incident just before she entered the order when the urge to throw~ it all off was so strong that she was actually tempted to put on.her sister-in- law's "aft~er-the-wedding";.dress and parade around Siena in it. Once she had mastered the temptation, she tells us, Mary presented her with the wedd, ing dress that was to be hers, a~ garment from the very heart of Jesus. Years later she writes to her disciple, Gabriele di Davino Piccolomini: You need the armor-which is true charity, and over this armor the scarlet cloak of the blood of Christ crucified . The blood of Christ crucified needs to be revealed, not. hid-den. You must g~ve witness to it before everyone by your good and holy actions, and when necessary by yo.u.r words. You must not be like those fools who are ashamed to re-mind the world of Christ crucified and to testify openly that they are his servants. They are not willing to put on this scarlet cloak, the blood of Christ crucified." Ii isl in fact, not a burden, but our glory to be the ministers of Christ: Those we serve are our helpers, and even our masters insofar as it is their need that comman'ds us. °And even While we are a channel of Ctirist's redemptive love~to them, it is_the~ who in turn me~iiate our way to redemption and salva-tioh. Tfius Catherine writes to Cardinal Pietro Corsini: Be.magnanimous and generous in your charity toward your neighbors, both spiritually and materially. Remember that the hands of the poor are there to help you, as minister of the, blood, in carrying and offering divine grace.The blood of Christ crucifi.ed will teach you to distribute your possessions to the poor with the same generosity he has shown and continues to show to you. He will°make you consider the poor .and'~ those who find themselves in need as your masters." And to Monna Lodovica di Granello: You who have temporal possessions; do your duty by giving to the poor whatever yo~u can give Make yourselyes steward§ of your~wealth to the poor, for the poor are the hands that will grant us entrance to eternal life because of the loving charity with which we have given them alms." The Ministry of Social Justice ~ , Though Catherine herself never held a position of formal authority or had Letter 256, to M. Niccolo, a Tuscan official, after 1376. Letter 128, Gabriele was a layman, not a preacher. Letter 177, 1376. ~" Letter 304, 1378. Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the Church / 193 more than the most paltry alms to give in her own name, the ministry we today specifically call social justice was very much her concern, and we who sense a special call to this ministry would do well to look to her not only for inspira-tion but also for the criteria on which she based her stands. We have already seen how, in Catherine's view, the divine economy in-cludes the distribution--not always equal or even equitable in our sight--of goods and talents. She insists that there is also a positive providence in poverty and ill fortune, for her sights are always fixed beyond the limits of here and now and the standards of mere reason. Yet she is just as insistent when it comes to the obligations of stewardship imposed by the possession of wealth and power (it is God himself who speaks): 1 have shown you my generosity, goodness, and providence toward people. But they let themselves be guided by their own darksome weakness. Your bodily members put you to shame, because they all together practice charity, while you do not. Thus, when the head is aching, the hand he|ps it. And if the finger, that tiniest of members, hurts, the head does not snub it because it is greater and more noble than all the other parts of the body. No, it comes to its aid with hearing and sight and speech and everything it has. And so with all the other members. But those who are proud do not behave that way. They see a poor person, one of their members, sick and in need, and do not help. They refuse to give not only of their possessions but even a single word. Indeed, they reproachfully and scornfully turn away. They have plenty of wealth, but they leave the poor to starve. They do not see that their wretched cruelty throws filth into my face, and that their filth reaches down even to the depths of hell. I provide for the poor, and for their poverty they will be given the greatest of riches. But the others, ~nless they change their ways, will be severely reproached by my Truth as is said in the holy Gospel: "l was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat; I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink; I was naked and you did not clothe me, in prison and you did not visit me." And at that last moment it will do them no good to excuse themselves ¯ by saying, "! never saw you, for if I had I would have done it." The wretches know well enough--and my Truth ~aid that whatever is done to his poo~ is done to him?~ Injustice is a direct assault against God. It could hardly be stated more clearly: ".their wretched cruelty throws filth into my face"! Still, Catherine's ultimate judgments and action where poverty and wealth, good fortune and ill are concerned always come back to that most basic of prin-ciples: only God is unqualified Truth and Love. Nothing of human life is un-qualified or unconditioned except our love for him. Of everything and everyone but God we must discern the "ifs, ands, and buts" before making our decisions. This is where Catherine,s own vision often made her seem the naive fool in the face of political c0mplexities -- but that is the risk integrity runs. The force of the simple truth may seem sometimes to crumple under the weight of reality as reason sees it, but if we are true to the vision of truth (and willing to admit when we have not seen clearly or fully) we still stand as tall Dialogue, 148. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 and. whole as did Catherine ultimately--though the psychological burden of it all had literally done her in physically. Reform was badly needed in Catherine's day. She not only admitted that but proclaimed it to the most sensitive of ears! But she insisted that all reform must begin from within. She loved the Church as few have loved it, yet she criticized and castigated it as few have dared. If God was to show mercy to the world, the world must be reformed. But the world would be reformed only if the Church were reformed. And the Church would be reformed only if its leaders were reformed. And Catherine would be of no use to any of it so long as she held on to her own sinfulness. ;. Like Catherine, we are called not simply to preach--much less to con-demn- but to take the sins of others on ourselves. Her experience, toward the end of her life, of so feeling the weight of the ship of the Church on top of her that she could neither get up nor be lifted up from the floor of St. Peter's was more than figurative. Whereas earlier she had pleaded for forgiveness for others and even offered to suffer for their sins, in her last years she genuinely owned responsibility for those sins and considered herself truly (why would we prefer to see it as pious but exaggerated humility?) the cause of every evil in the world. Where would our burning issues be today if we could honestly own our sinful responsibility for them? Not that Catherine did not preach to others about justice. Her letters are full of very concrete, practical exhortations. To Ristoro di Pietro Canigiani, a Florentine lawyer: You may, in good conscience, seek and demand what is yours in ways that are just, for no one is obliged to let go of what is justly one's own. Anyone who is willing could certainly do the more perfect thing, but it is not an obligation unless one wants to do it of one's own free choice. But there is one thing I want to add: when any poor folk come to you (assuming they are clearly in the right) who have no one to defend them because they cannot pay, if you would work for them out of affectionate love, you would give very great honor to God?~ And to Andreasso Cavalcabuoi while he was Senator in Siena: We often see certain people in government having justice done only where poor are con-cerned-- justice which frequently is really and truly injustice--but they do not have justice done where the great and powerful are concerned.~' Further examples could be multiplied, but always the principles are the same. And always we must begin by doing justice to ourselves--the justice of repentance and virtue--and by reaching out first in response to God's call in the needs of those who are brought to touch our lives most nearly.38 God will see to the widening of the circle, probably much more intensely than we thought we had bargained for! Letter 258, 1378-79. ~' Letter 338, 1379. ~ Dialogue, 6. Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the Church / 195 The Ministry of Women in the Church We have not yet even touched specifically on the ministry of women in the Church. Yet much of what Catherine has to say and demonstrate of womanly ministry within the Church has in principle been related. She who did and said all we have spoken of is a woman. She did not speak, it is true, of the ordination of women: her culture would not have let that even be an issue. Still she does speak of the ministry of all of us(and the objects and modes of her own ministry were remarkable for a woman of her century and social class. It would be fascinating, in fact, to analyze the parallelism that seems to exist between her reflections on priestly min, i.stry and what she has to say of her own ministry! But easy as it is to point to Catherine as a woman who dared to preach to popes and princes, let us never forget that that preaching as well as her every other service rose out of her encounter with God in prayer. If we do nearly as well as she in our integrity on that score, we need have no further concern about the form or effectiveness of our ministry. We will often be frustrated as she was. We will often be misunderstood and criticized as she was. We may die in the effort as she did. But like her we will come out whole, and the Church ¯ will be nourished on our sweat, blood, and tears. And those we have been privileged to touch in our service will remember, as they did of Catherine, that we could smile through it all! Currents in Spirituality The Past Decade George Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is presently engaged in a national spiritual ministryfor priests, religious and lay people, and works part-time in campus ministry at the University of Scranton, especially with the faculty of the university. His address: Scranton University; Scranton, PA 18510. In a stream there are always different levels of flow. An eddy or a swirl, which~i:loes not run so deep as the current, can either spin off and die on the shore or it can get caught up and become part of the deeper current of the stream. It is fascinating and instructive'to watch this process. The last decade has brought an enormous growth in interest and writing about spirituality. This article, focusing on some present issues and concerns of spirituality in this country, will be describing a variety of swirls, eddies, cur-rents and tides within the stream of contemporary spirituality. Generally, the article does not explicitly distinguish deeper currents from surface motions, but leaves this distinction to the reflection and judgment of the reader. The aim here is simply to list and briefly describe, without any prioritizing, some concerns within contemporary spirituality.' In doing this, I will be consulting both my own experience and the fruits of some conversation with experienced people across the country, At times, I will inject an issue which may not seem of much interest today, but which I ' For anotlier format and a more extensive treatment of individual thematic trends in spirituality, consult the series of articles.of Matthew Fox, O.P. in Spirituality Today beginning in the March, ! 978 issue. Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade personally feel deserves attention. I am aware, of course, that the degree of in-terest or importance for various concerns will vary according to different geographical sections of the country. But any necessary local nuance is left to the reader. The survey nature of this article, besides severely limiting development of the various concerns expressed, also prevents any resolution of them. Sometimes, however, it is the present state of the matter itself which allows only a statement of the question and which requires that any resolution await further clarity in the Spirit. Part I of the article presents issues that affect \everybody in the Church. Part II treats some matters that touch specific groups: religious, bishops and diocesan priests, lay people. ~ Part i: Issues Affecting Everyone 1. Distinction between Monastic and Apostolically Active Spiritualities. Within the one fundamental Christian spirituality there have always been various spiritualities rooted in different orientations to the one God. Especial-ly since Vatican II, a most helpful clarification has stressed the distinction between monastic and apostolically active spiritualities. Generally speaking, the monastic experience of God depends upon some physical withdrawal from the world and upon as full an involvement as possible in the liturgy both of the Eucharist and of the Hours, which provides an essential regularity and a rhythm that will determine both the type of community support and the external activity appropriate to this spirituality. An apostolically active ex-perience of God, while deeplylocated :in the activity of the world, requires the difficult combination of an external mobility with dependable spiritual habits, so that one may serve wherever the need for God is greatest. Obviously, this ts pirituality will provide a different community support, together with both a different presence and a more extensive involvement in the world. To fail to understand which of the two basic orientations one is called to can cause personal frustration and apostolic ineffectiveness. Disregard of this clarification on the part of the diocesan priest, the religious or the lay person, whether in their training or in the living out of their vocation, may well pro-duce unrealistic expectations and. ineffective service. Taking seriously the dif-ference in the two approaches need not imply any superiority of the one over the other. Rather it may help the Church to be more present in the world ac-cording to its own fullness and to manifest God's loving designs across the whole spectrum of the human family. 2. Renewed Monasticism. After Vatican II there was much questioning and experimentation in reference to the elements of the monastic way of life: enclosure, Liturgy of the Hours, community, work, silence, travel, and external apostolic involvement. 198 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 For a while, the very validity of the monastic life seemed at issue. Now, with its essential validity profoundly reaffirmed, many experiments are being evaluated. This'process of evaluation is not concluded but, together with a deep sense that the monastic ideal has been enriched by much of this .ex-perimentation, there is a concern as to whether some of the experiments were not motivated by trying too much to imitate the active life and whether they have not therefore risked: weakening the power of the monastic ideal for our age. It will always be a difficult matter to know how, without distorting or superficializing the monastic ideal, its powerful experience of God may be brought into contact with the city oLman. 3. An Integrated, Functional Spirituality for Active Apostles: Excessive fatigue, even to the length of "burnout,." at times seems almost synonymous with active apostolic work today. Countless demands from so many angles have over-extended and excessively complicated the lives of com-petent and conscientious men and women. They know the need for formal prayer and a profound, spiritual orientation. And yet there just isn't time for eve.rything. As a result there is not nearly enough formal, personal prayer on the part of many active apostles. And this has serious repercussions, both on the apostles themselves and on all the work they do. And so the search goes on for some functional spirituality that will work .for busy apostolic men and women by giving a sense of integration and unity to their lives. It is instructive that in the past ten years interest has moved from the topic of discernment of spirits to that of apostolic spirituality. To my mind, the con-tent is pretty much the same. But the orientation is very different. Discern-ment of spirits involves chiefly an interpretative sorting out in faith of inner, affective experiences, so that, through dealing properly with the experiences, one can find and be with God in every situation and moment of life. But this process runs ~he risk of generating a short-sighted interiority and a spirituality without adequate orientation to apostolic service. Apostolically active spirituality, it would seem, should involve the same decisive dealing in faith with inner, affective experiences, but now with a much increased realization that this faith-process within the person gives a special quality of integrated, peaceful presence in the midst of the most challenging, active situations--and that this presence, eloquent in its thrust toward God in itself, also leads to ac- .~tions which further his kingdom in the world. Dealing in faith with the daily consolations and desolations of life can integrate and unify our whole affec-tivity and person. And this faith-process certainly does not excuse the active apostle from a program of regular, formal prayer. Rather it reveals the need to discover the unique style of serious, formal prayer appropriate for each in-dividual. Such prayer will always be an essential means to that quality of human presence which reveals a loving Father in Jesus as the Beloved of our hearts and which can find and serve Him in everything. In this sense, current interest in apostolic spirituality seems very healthy Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade / 199 and very likely to lead to an apostolic presence that is increasingly prayerful and where activity is therefore not seen as weakening the contemplative presence of prayer, but as a continuation of that contemplative presence beyond the limits of formal prayer. This integrated, apostolic presence will not decrease the demands made on us, but it can prevent the sense of being overly distracted and torn between the dichotomy of formal prayer and apostolic activity. This integrated spirituality can also lessen that sense of dualism against which we are so often warned today. 4. Renouncing the World to Serve It for God. ~, It is not easy for us to see the world from God's perspective and to serve its t needs in the light of his dream of justice. Finally, this can be done only by one who comes from an experience of God, an experience in God, back to the world. Though we are usually first led to know and love God, of course, in and through his creation, there must and does come, for those whose ex-perience of God matures, a moment of experiencing Him beyond this world's ~- wisdom and potentiality-- a moment of experiencing God as not simply equal to, but as far beyond, all the beauty and wisdom of this world. This moment of transcendence, of finding complete satisfaction and joy in a loving God himself, roots our identity primarily in God and gives his love a priority over any created reality. It is an experience that re-announces us before God, before ourselves and before the world as a people of God, a people in God. In this way our "renunciation," in the sense of a re-announcement of the world for God, puts the world in its true perspective, as seen in and from God.z Rather than lessening our interest in th~ world, this view dramatically in-creases our zeal to further God's Kingdom in the wo~:id and so bring it to its full potential. But serving the needs of our world properly, as part of our love of God, demands this kind of worldly renouncement. There are issues of some importance for ac, tive apostles today that relate to this renunciation of the world. Can this experience of renunication happen without some physical withdrawal from the worl~d? And since the renuncia-tion referred to here is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, what meaias will help active people to keep it alive and growing as a personal attitude? With much ~to leSs physical detachment from the world in most seminaries and novitiates (and much of this is good and in accord with the appropriately non-monastic raining of active apostles), how can we be assured that this necessary attitude f renunciation is taking permanent root in the apostle's consciousness? How do active apostles prevent their worldly renunciation either from turning into a withdrawal from the world which, while suitable for monks, is most un- See Karl Rahner, S.J., Theological Investigations, vol 3, The Theology of the Spiritual Life, tr. Karl-H and Boniface Kruger, "The Ignatian Mysticism of Joy in the World" (Baltimore: ~, H elicon, 1967), pp. 227-293. What Rahner describes as thefugasaeculi for a Jesuit is fundamental to any mature Christian life with and in God. 200 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 suitable for them, or, even worse, from turning into an unChristian lack of concern for the world? The American Church is not finished with these ques-tions. We need more discussion, and better answers. For without this attitude of worldly renunciation, we may have active apostles busy doing many good things, but nov per~ceiving the world's full potential for beauty and goodness and not furthering the reality of a Father's Kingdom that is revealed chiefly in a dead Son's Resurrection. 5. Relationship of Spirituality and Morality. For too many people morality has been corrupted by an overly narrow, moralistic and rationalistic stress. This moralism, with its rationalistically detailed stress on casuistry, tends to cut'healthy morality off from its roots in the spirituality of God's revelation. It has caused much unhealthy fear, guilt and introspection. The "holy person" was described as one who avoided a clearly delineated list of mortal and venial sins. And, too often, this avoidance of sins seemed more a matter of stubbornly pelagian will power than a matter of prayerfully humble dependence on God's. grace. But today, it seems one could be taking means" for serious growth in prayer, faith and a spiritual life, and yet this spiritual seriousness need not ex-press itself in quite practical matters like the morality of public, social affairs or of a chaste sexual life. At times, neither certain social injustices nor something like masturbation is seen as unholy, thereby affecting one's love relationship with God. The intertwined strands of spirituality and morality are here become so unraveled that holy, prayerful Christian people may not be ex-pected to come to similar moral conclusions on various practical issues. A fuller view of both morality and spirituality, ho~vever, rather finds them mutually inclusive and affirming of one another, mutually accountable, while at the same time leaving to each its own, appropriately specific, stress. To view some practical matter spiritually is to judge its appropriatenes~ against the faith-ideal of a trust in God's loving power wonderfully filling our own weakness whenever it is exposed in self-emptying surrender. In this way cer-tain attitudes, dispositions and actions are unholy and unspiritual because they violate this trust in God's love. Only one's spiritual growth in union with God will provide this trust in the practical details of daily living. Much is being done these days in moral theology to construct a modern .version of full, healthy Christian morality and a spirituality as integral to each other. A very interesting issue in this new approach in moral theology is the role in moral decision-making which prayerful discernment of spirits plays in providing that moral knowledge whereby a holy person can know God's love in a concrete situation. 6. Sin ~ Forgiveness-- Sacrament of Reconciliation. Related to the previous consideration of spirituality and morality is another issue, that of our personal experience as sinners in the human recep- Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade / 201 tion of God's vivifying forgiveness in and through the sacrament of recon-ciliation. Although there are unhealthy dualisms which de.ny integral human living and which should therefore be avoided, the dualism of a person saved in Jesus, but still with much affective evidence of sinfulness cannot be avoided. This dualism is the very setting for the Christian adventure of sons and daughters still gradually coming into their own. The seven capital sins, alive in our affective consciousness as dispositions, inclinations and impulses, provide us with our own version of the pauline divided heart? But we.have an in-destructible hope of ever more healing and wholeness in the crucified Son's discovery of his Father's blessing of resurrection. Continual conversion, so central to the Christian life, happens in the pain-fully purifying humiliation of a double acknowledgement: my personal sin-fulness, and the faithful love of the Trinity for me in the Son's Calvary experience, And this brings in turn a double awareness: we are never nearly so good as we try to make ourselves out to be; but we are far more loved in the Trinity's forgiveness than we could ever imagine. This process of personal assimilation of God's forgiveness is neither instantaneous nor superficial. The inner humiliation of an unqualified admission of personal sinfulness before our beloved Father in his crucified Son is something that we instinctively try to avoid. In this experience, a careful discernment of what is spiritually good for each person is needed.' Despite the reform of the rite of the sacrament of reconciliation I wonder whether people are being helped to deepen their experience of this growth to self-identity through forgiveness. The old superstructure surrounding the in-stitution of frequent confession has broken down--as it had to. Reconcilia-tion prayer-services have restored the communal dimension of sinfulness and forgiveness within the community of the Church, and a whole new format has been developed for the individual reception of the sacrament of reconcilia-tion. But there are ways in which a communal experience of the sacrament, without a carefully~ personal and individual experience, can superficialize or short-circuit the human process of receiving.God's forgiveness. As we grow to a more healthy and loving sense of ourselves, we can learn to find the in-dividual experience of the sacrament a helpful means of growth to the maturi-ty of humble trust in the fidelity of the Trinity's forgiving love always available in our weakness. 7. Faith and Justice. After the topic of prayer, this seems the theme most treated in today's spiritual writing. Many persons are much more sensitive today to the systemic network of social sin that is rooted in the individual sinfulness of human Rm 7:14-25. See my article, "Forgiveness," Sisters Today, Dec. 1973, pp. 185-92. 202 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 hearts--that are radically social in nature. But we have a long way to go in developing a sensitivity to social sin and a social morality. And the insight that justice, in a sense much fuller than simply its social-political meaning, is in-tegral to faith badly needs to grow in the Church. Opportunities for such growth are being very well served by current studies in scripture~ and in Christology.6 Further study and reflection, however, is neede~l to recognize more precisely the sense of justice that is so centrally related to Christian faith-- the full paschal justice of God, motivated and revealed in us through a refined and decisive faith. It is the zealous faith of a great love of God that urges on us a passionate concern and practical involvement for the justice of God's Kingdom. For we are not urged on simply by a social theory about the unity of the human family, or about communal ownership of our earth's resources, or about the inherent evil of war. The fundamental and difficult question of how Christianity relates to various political ideologies--and to ideology, as such--arises here. In South America the question of the possibility of a Chris-tian marxism is very alive, whereas in this country there is a serious question-ing of the assumptions of capitalism. These are complicated questions about specific situations and activities. But we must remember that zeal for the justice of God's Kingdom can never be limited simply to the matter of a specific kind of activity that one is involved in. Rather, and with more far ranging, quite practical effect, it must grow to a vision that pervades and in-fluences everything we do. A few other aspects of this issue deserve listing. The tendency to an ex-cessively introspect, privatized spirituality needs the challenge of that zeal for justice which validates a person's faith.7 We must learn how to relate our zeal for justice to our contemplation. For active apostles in the heat of unjust, op-pressive situations, it is never easy to believe in the grace that could convert understandable angry feelings into the appropriate expression of tenderness and compassion. Much more than a matter of a given temperament, we must see tenderness and compassion not as unbecoming to either a man or a woman in certain situations, but as virtues contemplatively rooted by grace in a per-son's affectivity and will. Finally, many of us need new experiences to help us feel much more passionately the tangled questions this issue raises~ before we can even know the question, much less the answers. ~ See John R. Donahue, S.J., "Biblical Perspectives on Justice" in The Faith That Does Justice, ed. John C~ Haughey, S.J. (New York: Paulist, 1977), pp. 68-112 and Jose" Porfirio Miranda, Marx and the Bible, tr. John Eagleson (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1974), 338 pp. ~ J~irgen Moltmann, The Crucified God (New York: Harper & Row, 1974), 346 pp.; John Sobrino, S J, Christology At the Crossroads, tr. John Drury Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1978), 432 pp.; Leonardo Boll, Jesus Christ Liberator (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1978). 7 cf. Richard A. Blake, S.J., "'As the Father Has Sent Me'," America, Aug 25, 1979, pp. 66-69 and William J. Byron, S J, "Privatization--A Contemporary Challenge to lgnatian Spirituality," Chicago Studies, vol. 14, No. 3, Fall, 1975, pp. 241-251. Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade / 20:3 8. Role of Women in the World and the Church. Another major concern in spirituality today is the role of woman. The issue, understandably en6ugh, is often so fraught with crusading passion and angry feelings that, as male and therefore one who surely does not feel enough the seriousness of the issue, one almost fears to say anything at all. Against a backdrop of past and present prejudice, the lea'dership role of woman in the Church slowly increases. But there is a long way to go. Attitude, rather more than qanguage, seems nearer the heart of the matter--and yet linguistic care both expresses and shapes our attitude. And the attitude of many leaders and other people in the Church must profoundly change before women will exercise a suitably influential role and make their unique contribu-tion (something any exaggei'ated uniformity and equality, of course, will not allow). In general, there seem to be three stages to this concern. First is an awareness of the fact injustice, however it is explained. This is often followed by a period of intense reaction, which is quite understandable; whether ap-parently exaggerated or not. Finally, a stage of peaceful service in the Church is often reached, as one doeg what is possible to correct the injustice. It is a process similar to Kubler-Ross's stages8 arid has been gone through by others when facing the deadly situation of unjust discrimination.~ Women's ordination to the priesthood is, of course, still debated. For many, however, it does not seem to be the heart of the issue at the present time. Much will continue to be accomplished without changing the present policy on women's ordination to the ministerial priesth6od. This does not deny-that there are painful situations, which can be paschally productive for all, in which women actually minister a "sacramentally" salvific experience without the acknowledged ministerial priestly capacity to formally celebrate the experience in the Church. A good example of this is the woman director of a retreat who cannot administer the sacrament of reconciliation after sharing a retreatant's graced experience of God's forgiveness. Many would feel--and many would not m that this is still an open question, about which the Church seems not to have enough light in the Spirit to know whether a change is called for or not. In the meantime, we all need to grow in a sensitivity to correct past in-jostice in our own relationships, to beg for light in the Spirit regarding what is the right growth in this issue for the future, and to pray for the humility and the urgent patience of Jesus in his passion to live and serve generously in the present situation. 9. Spirituafity and Psychology. Because spitituality involve~ the total human person in relationship to ~ Elisabeth K~Jbler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York: Macmillan, 1969), 260 pp. 904 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 God's saving love, it can be related to every area of human behavior. It is I~ especially appropriate and valuable to relate spirituality to psychology, and, over the past decade or more, interest in this relationship has 'increased enor-mously. As an overly rationalistic view of spirituality subsides, we investigate much more the role of the non-rational dimensions of our person in spiritual growth. Spirituality can be naive, and destructive too, when it flies in the face of healthy psycholggy. But spirituality loses its salvific power for the human person, and becomes even demonic, when it capitulates completely to psychology. A delicate balance is called for in this relationship--something not easily arrived at, or easily preserved. In turning to s'ome specific aspects of this general issue, it is obvious that much greater~ stress is now being placed on communicationskills, on affectivi-ty, on the role of the body, and on consciousness-altering techniques--all of which can enrich our prayer and further sensitize us to the many ways God's word an~d love come to us. The practice of spiritual direction often legitimb.tely ,~. overlaps with a type of psychological counseling. But the ultimate aim of ~ facili

Mary Elizabeth King on Civil Action for Social Change,
the Transnational Women's Movement, and the Arab Awakening







Nonviolent resistance remains by and large a marginal
topic to IR. Yet it constitutes an influential idea among idealist social
movements and non-Western populations alike, one that has moved to the center
stage in recent events in the Middle East. In this Talk, Mary King—who has spent over 40 years promoting nonviolence—elaborates
on, amongst others, the women's movement, nonviolence, and civil action more
broadly.






Print version of this Talk (pdf)






What is, according to you, the central challenge or principal debate in
International Relations? And what is your position regarding this challenge/in
this debate?



The field of International Relations is different from
Peace and Conflict Studies; it has essentially to do with relationships between
states and developed after World War I. In the 1920s, the big debates concerned
whether international cooperation was possible, and the diplomatic elite were
very different from diplomats today. The roots of Peace and Conflict Studies go
back much further. By the late 1800s peace studies already existed in the
Scandinavian countries. Studies of industrial strikes in the United States were
added by the 1930s, and the field had spread to Europe by the 1940s. Peace and
Conflict Studies had firmly cohered by the 1980s, and soon encircled the globe.
Broad in spectrum and inherently multi-disciplinary, it is not possible to walk
through one portal to enter the field.



To me it is also important that Peace and Conflict
studies is not wary of asking the bigger hypothetical questions such as 'Can we
built a better world?' 'How do we do a better job at resolving conflicts before
they become destructive?' 'How do we create more peaceable societies?' If we do
not pose these questions, we are unlikely to find the answers. Some political scientists say that they do not wish to
privilege either violence or nonviolent action. I am not in that category,
trying not to privilege violence or
nonviolent action. The field of peace and conflict studies is value-laden in
its pursuit of more peaceable societies. We need more knowledge and study of
how conflicts can be addressed without
violence, including to the eventual benefit of all the parties and the larger
society. When in 1964 Martin Luther King Jr received
the Nobel Peace Prize, his remarks in Oslo that December tied the nonviolent
struggle in the United States to the whole planet's need for disarmament. He said
that the most exceptional characteristic of the civil rights movement was the
direct participation of masses of people in it. King's remarks in Oslo were also
his toughest call for the use of nonviolent resistance on issues other than
racial injustice. International nonviolent action, he said, could be utilized
to let global leaders know that beyond racial and economic justice, individuals
across the world were concerned about world peace:



I venture to suggest [above all] . . . that . . . nonviolence become
immediately a subject for study and for serious experimentation in every field
of human conflict, by no means excluding relations between nations . . . which
[ultimately] make war. . . .



In the half century since King made his address in
Oslo, nonviolent civil resistance has not been allocated even a tiny fraction
of the resources for study that have been dedicated to the fields of
democratization, development, the environment, human rights, and aspects of
national security. Many, many questions beg for research, including intensive
interrogation of failures. Among the new global developments with which to be
reckoned is the enlarging role of non-state, non-governmental organizations as
intermediaries, leading dialogue groups comprised of adversaries discussing
disputatious issues and working 'hands-on' to intervene directly in local
disputes. The role of the churches and laity in ending Mozambique's civil war
comes to mind. One challenge within IR is how to become more flexible in
viewing the world, in which the nation state cannot control social change, and
with the widening of civil space.





How did you arrive at
where you currently are in your thinking about IR?



I
came from a family that was deeply engaged with social issues. My father was the
eighth Methodist minister in six generations from North Carolina and Virginia.
The Methodist church in both Britain and the United States has a history of
concern for social responsibility ― a topic of constant discussion in my home
as a child and young adult. When four African American students began the
southern student sit-in movement in Greensboro, North Carolina, on February 1,
1960, by sitting-in at a Woolworth's lunch counter, I was still in college.
Although I am white, I began to think about how to join the young black people
who were intentionally violating the laws of racial segregation by conducting
sit-ins at lunch counters across the South. Soon more white people, very like
me, were joining them, and the sweep of student sit-ins had become truly
inter-racial. The sit-in movement is what provided the regional base for what
would become a mass U.S. civil rights movement, with tens of thousands of
participants, defined by the necessity for fierce nonviolent discipline. So,
coming from a home where social issues were regularly discussed it was almost
natural for me to become engaged in the civil rights movement. And I have
remained engaged with such issues for the rest of my life, while widening my
aperture. Today I work on a host of questions related to conflict, building
peace, gender, the combined field of gender and peace-building, and nonviolent
or civil resistance. At a very young age, I had started thinking as a citizen
of the world and watching what was happening worldwide, rather than merely in
the United States.



Martin Luther King (to whom I am
not related) would become one of history's most
influential agents for propagating knowledge of the potential for constructive
social change without resorting to violence. He was the most significant exemplar
for what we simply called The Movement. Yet the movement had two southern
organizations: in 1957 after the success of the Montgomery bus boycott of
1955-56, he created, along with others, the Southern Christian Leadership
Conference (SCLC). The other organization was the one for which I worked for
four years: the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC, pron. snick), which initially came into being literally to coordinate
among the leaders of the student sit-in campaigns. As the sit-ins spread across
the South, 70,000 black, and, increasingly, white, students participated. By
the end of 1960, 3,600 would have been jailed.



SCLC and SNCC worked together but
had different emphases: one of our emphases in SNCC was on eliciting leadership
representing the voices of those who had been ignored in the past. We
identified many women with remarkable leadership skills and sought to
strengthen them. We wanted to build institutions that would make it easier for
poor black southern communities to become independent and move out of the
'serfdom' in which they lived. Thus we put less prominence on large
demonstrations, which SCLC often emphasized. Rather, we stressed the building
of alternative (or parallel) institutions, including voter registration,
alternative political parties, cooperatives, and credit unions.





What would a student
need (dispositions, skills) to become a specialist in IR or understand the
world in a global way?



One requirement is a subject that
has virtually disappeared from the schools in the United States: the field of
geography. It used to be taught on every level starting in kindergarten, but
has now been melded into a mélange called 'social sciences'. You would be
surprised at how much ignorance exists and how it affects effectiveness. I
served for years on the board of directors of an esteemed international
non-profit private voluntary organization and recall a secretary who thought
that Africa was a country. This is not simplistic — if you don't know the names
of continents, countries, regions, and the basic political and economic
history, it's much harder to think critically about the world. Secondly,
students need to possess an attitude of reciprocity and mutuality. No perfect
country exists; there is no nirvana without intractable problems in our world.
No society, for example, has solved the serious problems of gender inequity
that impede all spheres of life. Every society has predicaments and problems
that need to be addressed, necessitating a constant process. So we each need to
stand on a platform in which every nation can improve the preservation of the
natural environment, the way it monitors and protects human rights, transitions
to democratic systems, the priority it places on the empowerment of women, and
so on. On this platform, concepts of inferior and superior are of little value.



You also co-authored an article in 1965 about the role of women and how working in a political movement for equality
(the civil rights movement) has affected your perceptions of the relationship
between men and women. Do you believe that the involvement of women in the
Civil Rights Movement brought more gender equality in the USA and do you think
involvement in Nonviolent Resistance movements in other places in the world
could start such a process?



From within the heart of the civil
rights movement I wrote an article with Casey Hayden, with whom I worked in
Atlanta in the main office of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and in the
Mississippi Freedom Summer of 1964. Casey
(Sandra Cason) and I were deeply engaged in a series of conversations involving
other women in SNCC about what we had been learning, the lessons from our work aiding
poor black people to organize, and asking ourselves whether our insights from
being part of SNCC could be applied to other forms of injustice, such as inequality
for women. The document reflected our growth and enlarging understanding of how
to mobilize communities, how to strategize, how to achieve lasting change, and
was a manifestation of this expanding awareness. The title was Sex and Caste – A Kind of Memo. Caste is an ancient Hindu demarcation
that not only determines an individual's social standing on the basis of
the group into which one is born, but also differentiates and assigns
occupational and economic roles. It cannot be
changed. Casey and I thought of caste as comparable to the sex of one's birth.
Women endure many forms of prejudice, bias, discrimination, and cruelty merely
because they are female. For these reasons we chose the term caste. We sent our
memorandum to forty women working in local peace and civil rights movements of
the United States. The anecdotal evidence is strong that it inspired other
women, who started coming together collectively to work on their own
self-emancipation in 'consciousness raising groups.' It had appeared in Liberation magazine of the War Resisters
League in April 1966 and was a catalyst in spurring the U.S. women's movement; indeed, the consciousness-raising
groups fuelled the women's movement in the United States during the 1970s. Historians
reflect that the article provided tinder for what is now called 'second-wave
feminism', and the 1965 original is anthologized as one of the
generative documents of twentieth-century gender studies.



We
have to remember that women's organizations are nothing new, but have been
poorly documented in history and that much information has been lost. Women
have been prime actors for nonviolent social change in many parts of the world
for a long time. New Zealand was the first country to grant women the vote, in
1893, after decades of organizing. Other countries followed: China, Iran, later
the United States and the United Kingdom. Women in Japan would not vote until
1946. IR expert
Fred Halliday contends that one of the most remarkable transnational movements
of the modern age was the women's suffrage movement. The movement to enfranchise women may have been the biggest
transnational nonviolent movement of human history. It was a significant
historical phenomenon that throws light on how it is sometimes easier to bring
about social and political change now than in the past.





Nonviolent movements seem to be growing
around the world, and not only in dictatorships but also in democracies in
Europe and the USA. How do you explain this?



I think that the sharing of
knowledge is the answer to this question. Study in the field of nonviolent
action has accelerated since the 1970s, often done by people who are both
practitioners and scholars, as am I. Organizing nonviolently for social justice
is not new, but the knowledge that has consolidated during the last 40 years
has been major. The works of Gene Sharp
have been significant, widely translated, and are accessible through the Albert EinsteinInstitution. His first major work, The Politics of Nonviolent
Action, in three volumes, came out in 1973 (Boston: Porter Sargent
Publishers). It marked the development of a new understanding of how this form
of cooperative action works, the conditions under which it can be optimized,
and the ways in which one can improve effectiveness. Sharp's works have since been
translated into more than 40 languages. Also valuable are the works and
translations of dozens of other scholars, who often stand on his shoulders.
Today there may be 200 scholar-activists in this field worldwide, with a great
deal of work now underway in related fields. Knowledge is being shared not only
through translated works, but also through organizations and their training
programs, such as the War Resisters League International and the International
Fellowship of Reconciliation, each of which came into existence in Britain around
World War I. Both are still running seminars, training programs, and
distributing books. George Lakey's Training for Change and a new database at Swarthmore College that
he has developed are sharing knowledge. So is the International Center for Nonviolent Conflict, which has built
a dramatic record in a short time, having run more than 400 seminars and
workshops in more than 139 countries. The three major films that ICNC has
produced (for example, 'Bringing Down a Dictator'), have
been translated into 20 languages and been publicly broadcast to more than 20
million viewers.



After its
success, leaders from the Serbian
youth movement Otpor! (Resistance) that in 2000 disintegrated the Slobodan Milošević dictatorship formed a network
of activists, including experienced veterans from civil-resistance struggles in
South Africa, the Philippines, Lebanon, Georgia, and Ukraine to share their
experiences with other movements. People can now more
easily find knowledge on the World Wide Web, often in their original language
or a second language, and they can find networks that share information about
their experiences, including their successes and failures.



I reject the Twitter explanation for
the increased use of nonviolent action or civil resistance, because all
nonviolent movements appropriate the most advanced technologies available. This
pattern is related to the importance of communications for their basic success.
Nonviolent mobilizations must be very shrewd in putting across their purpose,
their goals and objectives, preparing slogans, and conveying information on how
people can become involved. In order for people to join—bearing in mind that
numbers are important for success—it is critically important to make clear
what goal(s) you are seeking and why you have elected to work with civil
resistance. This decision is sometimes hard to understand for people who have
suffered great cruelty from their opponent, and who maintain 'but we are the
victims', making the sharing of the logic of the technique of civil resistance vital.





What would you say is the importance of
Nonviolent Resistance Studies in the field of International Relations and
Political Science? And how do you counter those who argue that some forms of
structural domination are only ended through violence?



In
this case we can look at the evidence and stay away from arguing beliefs or
ideology. Thanks to political scientists Erica Chenoweth and Maria J. Stephan,
who have produced a discerning work, Why Civil Resistance Works (2011), we now have
empirical evidence that removes this question from mystery. They studied 323
violent and nonviolent movements that occurred between 1900 and 2006 and found
that the nonviolent campaigns were twice as effective as violent struggles in
achieving their goals, while incurring fewer costly fatalities and producing
much greater prospects for democratic outcomes after the end of the campaign.
They found only one area in which violent movements have been more successful,
and that is in secessions. So, we don't need to dwell in the realm of opinion,
but can read their findings. Other scholars have written about the same issues
using qualitative data ― by doing interviews, developing case studies, and analytical
descriptions ― but the work of Chenoweth and Stephan is quantitative, putting
it in a different category due to its research methods.





Reading 'Why Civil Resistance Works' it
caught my eye that nonviolent campaigns seem less successful in the Middle East
and Asia than in other regions. Did you see that also in your own work? And if
so, do you have an explanation for it? In addition, do you believe that the
'Arab Awakening' is a significant turn in history, or did the name arise too
quickly and will it remain a temporary popular phrase?



What
I encountered in working in the Middle East was an expectation, notion, or hope
among people that a great leader would save them and bring them out of darkness.
This belief seems often to have kept the populace in a state of passivity.
Sometimes such pervasive theories of leadership are deeply elitist: one must be
well educated to be a leader, one must be born into that role, one must be
male, or the first son, etc. Such concepts of leadership discourage the taking
of independent civil action.



I think that the Arab Awakening has
been significant for a number of reasons. As one example, there had been a
widespread (and patronizing) assumption in the United States and the West that
the Arabs were not interested in democracy. We have heard from various sources
including Israel for decades that Arabs are not attracted to democracy. As a
matter of fact, I think that all people want a voice. All human beings
wish to be listened to and to be able to express their hopes and aspirations.
This is a fundamental basis of democracy and widely applicable, although
democracy may take different forms. The Arab Awakening rebutted this arrogant
assumption. This does not mean that the course will be easy. One of my Egyptian
colleagues said to me, 'We have had dictatorship since 1952, but after Tahir
Square you expect us to build a perfect democracy in 52 weeks! It cannot
happen!'



Among the first concessions
sought by the 2011 Arab revolts was rejection of the right of a dictator's sons
to succeed him. The passing of power from father to son has been a
characteristic of patriarchal societies, in the Arab world and elsewhere. Anthropologist John Borneman notes, 'The public renunciation of the son's claim to inherit the
father's power definitively ends the specific Arab model of succession that has
been incorporated into state dictatorships among tribal authorities'. In Tunisia to Egypt, Libya,
Syria, and Yemen (not all of which are successes), such movements have sought
to end the presumption of father-son inheritance of rule.



I believe that we are seeing the start of a broad democratization process
in the Middle East, not its end. The learning and preparation that had been occurring
in Egypt prior to Tahrir Square was extensive. Workshops had been underway for
10 to 15 years before people filled Tahrir Square. Women bloggers had for years
been monitoring torture and sharing news from outside. One woman blogger
translated a comic book into Arabic about the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King
Jr, from the 1960s, and had it distributed all over Cairo. Labor unions had
been very active. According
to historian Joel Beinin, from 1998 to 2010 some 3 million laborers took part
in 3,500 to 4,000 strikes, sit-ins, demonstrations, and other actions,
realizing more than 600 collective labor actions per year in 2007 and 2008. In the years immediately before the revolution, these
actions became more coherent. Wael Ghonim, a 30-year-old Google executive, set
up a Facebook page and used Google technologies to share ideas and knowledge
about what ordinary people can do. The April 6 Youth Movement, set up in 2008, three years before Tahrir, sent one of
its members to Belgrade in 2009, to learn how Otpor! had galvanized the
bringing down of Milošević. He returned to Cairo with materials and films,
lessons from other nonviolent movements, and workshop materials. This all goes
back to the sharing of knowledge. Yet the Egyptians have now come to the point
where they must assume responsibility and accountability for the whole and make
difficult decisions for their society. It will be a long and difficult process.
And it raises the question of what kind of help from outside is essential.





Why do you raise this point; do you think
outside help is essential?



I know from having
studied a large number of nonviolent movements in different parts of the globe
that the sharing of lessons laterally among mobilizations and nonviolent
struggles is highly effective. African American leaders were traveling by
steamer ship from 1919 until the outbreak of World War II to the Indian
subcontinent, to learn from Gandhi and the Indian independence struggles. This
great interchange between black leaders in the United States and the Gandhian
activists, as the historian Sudarshan Kapur shows in Raising
Up A Prophet (1992), was critically significant in the
solidification of consensus in the U.S. black community on nonviolent means. I have written about how the knowledge moved from East
to West in my book Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King. Scholarly exchanges and interchanges among activists
from other struggles are both potentiating and illuminating. Most
observers fail to see that nonviolent mobilizations often have very deep roots
involving the lateral sharing of experience and know-how.





You have written a book about the first
uprising, or 'intifada', in the Occupied Palestinian Territories between 1987
and 1993. The second Palestinian uprising did not contain much nonviolent
tactics though. Do you foresee another uprising soon? If not, why? If yes, do
you think that Nonviolent Actions will play again an important role in that
uprising, or is it more likely to turn violent?



Intifada is linguistically a
nonviolent word: It means shaking off and has no violent implication
whatsoever. (This word is utterly inappropriate for what happened in the
so-called Second Intifada, although it started out as a nonviolent endeavor.)
In the 1987 intifada, virtually the entire Palestinian society living under
Israel's military occupation unified itself with remarkable cohesion on the use
of nonviolent tools. The first intifada (1987-1993, especially 1987-1990)
benefited from several forces at work in the 1970s and 1980s, about which I
write in A Quiet Revolution (2007), one of which came from Palestinian activist
intellectuals working with Israeli groups, who wanted to end occupation for
their own reasons. These Israeli peace activists thought the occupation
degraded them, made them less than
human, in addition to oppressing Palestinians. The second so-called intifada
was not a 'shaking off'. For the first time, it bade attacks against the
Israeli settlements, which had not occurred before.



Let me put it this way: in virtually every situation, there is some
potential for human beings to take upon themselves their own liberation through
nonviolent action. We may expect that such potential is dormant and waiting for
enactment. Disciplined nonviolent action is underway in a number of
village-based struggles against the separation barrier in the West Bank right
now, in which Israeli allies are among the action takers. As another example,
the Freedom Theatre in Jenin is using Freedom Rides, a concept
adopted from the U.S. southern Civil Rights Movement, riding buses to the South
Hebron Hills villages and along the way using drama, music, and giant puppets
as a way of stimulating debate about Israeli occupation. Bloggers and writers
share their experiences (see e.g. this post by Nathan Schneider). For
the first time, as we speak, the Freedom Bus will travel from the West Bank to
make two performances in historic pre-1948 Palestine (Israel), in Haifa and the
Golan, in June 2013. A Palestinian 'Empty Stomach' campaign, led by Palestinian
political prisoners in Israel, has had some success in using hunger strikes to
press Israeli officials for certain demands. With the purpose of prevailing
upon Israel to conform to international resolutions pertaining to the
Palestinians and to end its military occupation, Palestinian civic
organizations in 2005 launched a Boycott, Divestment Sanctions (BDS) campaign,
drawing upon the notable example of third-party sanctions applied in the
anti-apartheid struggle in South Africa. The Palestinian Authority has called
for non-state observer status at the United Nations and supports the boycotting
of products from Israeli settlements resistance.



More and more Palestinians are now
saying, 'We must fight for our rights with nonviolent resistance'. Many
Israelis are also deeply concerned about the future of their country. I
recently got an email from an Israeli who was deeply affected by reading Quiet
Revolution and has started to reach out to
Palestinians and take actions to bring to light the injustices that he
perceives. Tremendous debate is underway about new techniques, novel processes,
and how to shift gears to more effective mutual action. The United States
government and its people continue to pay for Israel's occupation and
militarization, which has abetted the continuation of conflict, although it is
often done in the name of peace! The United States has not incentivized the
building of peace. It has done almost nothing to help the construction of
institutions that could assist coexistence.



Also,
it is very important for the entire world, including Israelis, to recognize
intentional nonviolent action when they see it. The Israeli government
persisted in denying that the 1987 Intifada was nonviolent, when the Palestinian
populace had been maintaining extraordinary nonviolent discipline for nearly
three years, despite harsh reprisals. Israeli officials continued to call it
'unending war' and 'the seventh war'. Indeed, it was not perfect nonviolent discipline,
but enough that was indicative of a change in political thinking among the
people in the Palestinian areas that could have been built upon. Although some
Israeli social scientists accurately perceived the sea change in Palestinian
political thought about what methods to use in seeking statehood and the
lifting of the military occupation, the government of Israel generally did not
seize upon such popularly enacted nonviolent discipline to push for progress.
My sources for Quiet Revolution
include interviews with Israelis, such as the former Chief Psychologist of the
Israel Defense Force and IDF spokesperson.





Your latest book is about the transitions
of the Eastern European countries from being under Soviet rule to independent
democracies. You chose to illustrate these transitions with New York Times
articles. Why did you chose this approach; do you think the NY Times was
important as a media agency in any way or is there another reason?



There
is another reason: The New York Times
and CQ Press approached me and asked if I would write a reference book on the
nonviolent revolutions of the Eastern bloc, using articles from the Times that I would choose upon which to
hang the garments of the story. The point of the work is to help particularly
young people learn that they can study history by studying newspapers. The book
gives life to the old adage that newspaper reporters write the first draft of
history. In the book's treatment of these nonviolent revolutions, I chose ten Times articles for
each of the major ten struggles that are addressed, adding my historical
analysis to complete the saga for each country. It had been difficult for Times reporters to get into Poland, for
example, in the late 1970s and the crucial year of 1980; they sometimes risked
their lives. Yet it's in the nature of journalism that their on-the-spot
reportage needed additional analysis; furthermore newspaper accounts often
stress description.



After
the 1968 Prague Spring, when the Soviet Union sent 750,000 troops and tanks
from five Warsaw Pact countries into Czechoslovakia, crushing that revolt,
across Eastern Europe a tremendous amount of fervent work got underway by small
non-official committees, often below the radar of the communist party states.
This included samizdat (Russian for
'self published'), works not published by the state publishing machinery,
underground publications that were promoting new ways of thinking about how to
address their dilemma. Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Lithuania were the most
active in the Eastern bloc with their major but covert samizdat. As it was
illegal in Czechoslovakia for a citizen to own a photocopy machine, 'books'
were published by using ten pieces of onion-skin paper interspersed with carbon
sheets, 'publishing' each page by typing it and its copies on a manual
typewriter.



The
entire phenomenon of micro-committees, flying universities, samizdat boutiques,
seminars, drama with hidden meanings, underground journals, and rock groups
transmitting messages eluded outside observers, who were not thinking about
what the people could do for themselves. The economists and Kremlinologists who
were observing the Eastern bloc did not discern what the playwrights, small
committees of activist intellectuals, local movements, labor unions,
academicians, and church groups were undertaking. They did not imagine the
scope or scale of what the people were doing for themselves with utmost
self-reliance. In essence, no one saw these nonviolent revolutions coming, with
the exception of the rare onlooker, such as the historian Timothy Garton Ash. Even today the
peaceful transitions to democracy of the Eastern bloc are sometimes explained
by saying 'Gorby did it', when Gorbachev did not come to power until 1985. Or by
attributing the alterations to Reagan's going to Berlin and telling Gorbachov
to tear down the Wall. 



By
December 1981, Poland was under martial law, which unleashed a high degree of
underground organizing, countless organizations of self-help, reimagining of
the society, and the publishing of samizdat. Still, even so, some people
believe that this sweeping political change was top-down.  It is indisputably true that nonviolent
action usually interacts with other forces and forms of power, but I would say
that we need this book for its accessible substantiation of historically
significant independent nonviolent citizen action as a critical element in the
collapse of the Soviet Union.





You also mention Al Jazeera as an
important media agency in your most recent blog post at 'Waging Nonviolence'.
You wrote that Al Jazeera has an important role in influencing global affairs.
Could you explain why? And more generally, how important is diversification of
media for international politics?



Al
Jazeera generally has not been taking the point of view of the official organs
of governments of Arab countries and has usually not reported news from
ministries of information. Additionally, it often carries reports from local
correspondents in the country at issue. If you are following a report from
Gaza, it is likely to be a Gazan journalist who is transmitting to Al Jazeera.
If it is a report from Egypt, it may well be an Egyptian correspondent. Al
Jazeera also has made a point of reporting news from Israel, and utilizing
reporters in Tel Aviv, which may be a significant development. Certainly in the
2010-2011 Arab Awakening, it made a huge difference that reports were coming
directly from the action takers rather than the official news outlets of Arab
governments.



President
George W. Bush did not want Al Jazeera to come to the United States, because he
considered it too anti-American. I remember reading at the time that the first
thing that Gen. Colin Powell said to Al Jazeera was 'can you tone it down a
little?' when asking why Al Jazeera couldn't be less anti-American in its news.
To me, either you support free speech or you do not; it's free or it's not: You
can't have a little bit of control and a little bit of freedom.



Until
recently, Al Jazeera was not easily available in the United States, except in
Brattleboro, Vermont; Washington, DC; and a few other places. It was difficult
to get it straight in the United States. I mounted a special satellite so that
I could get Al Jazeera more freely. This does not speak well for freedom of the
press in the United States. This may change with the advent of Al Jazeera
America, although we still do not know to what degree it will represent an
editorially free press.



News
agencies are important for civil-resistance movements for major reasons.
Popular mobilizations need good communications internally and externally!  People need to understand clearly what is the
purpose and strategy and to be part of the making of decisions. Learning also crucially
needs to take place inside the movement: activist intellectuals often act as
interpreters, framing issues anew, suggesting that an old grievance is now
actionable. No one expects the butcher, the baker, or the candlestick maker,
and everyone else in the movement to read history and theory.



When
news media are interested and following a popular movement of civil resistance,
they can enhance the spread of knowledge. In the U.S. civil rights movement,
the Southern white-owned newspapers considered the deaths of black persons or
atrocities against African Americans as not being newsworthy. There was
basically a 'black-out', if you want to call it that, with no pun. Yet dreadful
things were happening while we were trying to mobilize, organize, and get out the
word. So SNCC created its own media, and Julian Bond
and others and I set up nationwide alternative outlets. Eventually we had 12
photographers across the South. This is very much like what the people of the
Eastern bloc did with samizdat — sharing and disseminating papers, articles,
chapters, even whole books. The media can offer a tremendous boost, but
sometimes you have to create your own.





Last question. You combine scholarship
with activism. How do you reconcile the academic claim for 'neutrality' with
the emancipatory goals of activism?



To
be frank, I am not searching for neutrality in my research. Rather, I strive
for accuracy, careful transcription, and scrupulous gathering of evidence. I
believe that this is how we can become more effective in working for justice,
environmental protection, sustainable development, pursuing human rights, or
seeking gender equity as critical tools to build more peaceable societies.
Where possible I search for empirical data. So much has been ignored, for
example, with regards to the effects of gendered injustice. I do not seek
neutrality on this matter, but strong evidence. For example, since the 1970s, experts
have known that the education of women has profoundly beneficial and measurable
effects across entire societies, benefiting men, children, and women. Data from
Kerala, India; Sri Lanka; and elsewhere has shown that when you educate women
the entire society is uplifted and that all indicators shift positively. The
problem is that the data have for decades been ignored or trivialized. We need
much more than neutrality. We need to interpret evidence and data clearly to
make them compelling and harder to ignore. I think that we can do this with
methodologies that are uncompromisingly scrupulous.





Mary Elizabeth King is professor of peace and conflict studies at the
UN-affiliated University for Peace and and is Scholar-in-Residence in the
School of International Service, at the American University in Washington, D.C.
She is also a Distinguished Fellow of the Rothermere American Institute at the
University of Oxford, in the United Kingdom. Her most recent book is The
New York Times on Emerging Democracies in Eastern Europe (Washington, D.C.:
Times Reference and CQ Press/Sage, 2009), chronicling the nonviolent
transitions that took place in Poland,  Hungary, East Germany,
Czechoslovakia, the Baltic states, Serbia, Georgia, and Ukraine in the late
1980s and early 1990s. She is the author of the highly acclaimed A
Quiet Revolution: The First Palestinian Intifada and Nonviolent Resistance (New
York: Nation Books, 2007; London: Perseus Books, 2008), which examines crucial
aspects of the 1987 uprising overlooked or misunderstood by the media,
government officials, and academicians. 





Related links





King's personal page 
Read the book edited by
King on Peace Research for Africa
(UNU, 2007) here (pdf) 
Read the book by King Teaching Model: Nonviolent Transformation of
Conflict (UNU, 2006) here (pdf)










Print version of this Talk (pdf)





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