Suchergebnisse

Issue 57.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1998. ; f,or relig i ous C~sfian Heritages and Cont~empora~ Living MAY-JUNE 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all wl~o find that the church's rich ¯ heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondeuce with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming $3 Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough°OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Chr~s6an Heritages and Contemporary L~v~ng MAY-JUNE 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents 230 247 responding to the spirit Journey Inward, Journey Outward: ATheology of Call Gregory J. Polan OSB brings together personal experience and patterned scriptural examples in discussing the mystery of vocation. An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating Marie Chiodo DW and Mary Irving SSND set forth a four-stage process used in one province's theological updating. 26O 275 celibacy and sexuality Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life Donald J. Goergen OP considers various aspects of sexuality and celibacy that contribute to a healthily centered religious life. Skills Needed for Celibacy Martin Pable OFMCap focuses on celibacy as a set of behavioral skills by which people can assess their own (and candidates') actual living of the charism. Review for Religious 286 299 finding God The Books That Led Ignatius to God Joseph N. Tylenda SJ presents Ignatius Loyola as an example of spiritual reading bringing about a lifelong conversion. The Desert as Spiritual Landscape Dennis J. Billy CSSR finds in a desert sojourn risk, humbling reality, and whispers of hope. 304 report Women Religious and Sexual Trauma Paul N. Duckro, John T. Chibnall, and M. Ann Wolf present summary data from their extensive survey on this sdrious and sensitive topic and offer some pertinent reflections. departments 228 Prisms 314 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Poverty 320 Book Reviews ~Ylay-June 1998 The Spirit is God's mark of ownership on you. le on a recent visit to South Africa, I noticed how often automobiles have distinguishing num-bers, letters, or symbols painted boldly on their doors and even on their rooftops. I came to realize that these signs are not just expressions of beauty or individuality, but they provide a visible way of claiming ownership and discour-aging carjacking or thievery. St. Paul exhorted the members of his Christian com-munities to rejoice because the Spirit is God's mark of ownership over them. As we celebrate Pentecost in this year dedicated to the Holy Spirit, we may have a certain longing for tongues of fire as a vivid experience of the Spirit's presence and power in our lives. But I wonder whether today we in the Christian community seize the opportunity to welcome the gripping--though common-place-- idea of the Spirit as God's ownership. We own things, but we do not like to think of ourselves as being owned, even by God. We want to think of ourselves as autonomous, free, in charge of our own fate. Sometimes, though, we may admit to ourselves how much we have bought into (or, perhaps more correctly, "been bought by") the values of our culture, the prejudices of our eth-nic groups, and the political assumptions of our times. We are likely owned in many more ways than we care to discover--and we may show it by the way we live! Perhaps, then, we need to work at making our lives belong more visibly to God. Our Pentecost experience may not include rushing wind or fiery tongues, but the presence of the Spirit in our lives is still meant to be--as in Paul's communities-- the mark of God's ownership. Sometimes we too facilely identify the church as a hierarchical church or, more in Review for Religious vogue today, a church of the laity. But the truest reality is that the church is one people assembled, all belonging to the Spirit, marked with God's ownership. Living this reality consciously is part of our personal efforts in preparing for the millennium. Our personal witnessing of this reality is central to our evangelizing efforts, more necessary in the secularizing trends of our times than in Paul's Roman Empire days. What does God's ownership mean for us? God's ownership of us, marked by the presence of the Spirit in our lives, is meant to shine out in our way of acting. The traditional expression is "giving glory to God." Giving glory means that we become trans-parent enough that God and God's life and God's love can shine out through us. For example--to draw from the everyday behav-iors suggested by St. Paul--the way we talk. St. Paul stresses that a person marked by the Spirit speaks only helpful words, words that build up and provide for what is needed. It is how Jesus speaks. What we say should do good for those who hear us. Beyond our words, what can distinguish our dealings with peo-ple- the occasions for God's glory to shine out in us--is our kind-ness and our readiness to forgive. It is how Jesus acted. At a time in our world when massacres of Christians by Christians take place in Rwanda and Burundi, when fellow Christians seek revenge for age-old wrongs in Northern Ireland, when Orthodox, Catholic, and Muslim (all believers in the one God) slaughter one another in ethnic feuds, we can rightly won-der about our welcoming God's Spirit as a mark of God's ownership over us. But let us look into our own mirrors. When everyday human interaction includes ourselves as automobile drivers whose road rage leads us to endanger others, when we "good people" con-tinue to flee from neighborhoods that are in the process of racial integration, when we find ourselves hardened to the reality of abor-tion and assisted suicide, we can question whether we as individu-als and as communities have allowed the Spirit enough welcome to dwell within us, whether God's ownership of us shines out. In an engaging childlike way, St. Paul exhorted the early Christians not to make the Spirit sad. As we celebrate this year specially dedicated to the Spirit, we need to assess whether our Christian living shows forth God's ownership. Or do we make the Spirit sad? David L. Fleming SJ May-June 1998 229 GREGORY J. POLAN Journey Inward, Journey Outward: A Theology of Call 230 As someone who has studied the Scriptures for a number of years, I find reflection on a theology of call particu-larly interesting for several reasons. First, there is much to be said from the perspective of the Scriptures, from Abraham and Moses in the Hebrew Scriptures to Mary and Paul in the Christian Scriptures. Second, as rector of a college seminary for almost a decade, as spiritual direc-tor to both men and women religious over the years, and now as abbot of a Benedictine community, I have been privileged to hear stories of divine in-breaking in the lives of many people--stories as varied as the people who revealed them and as similar as the human nature we all have. The beauty and sacredness of these accounts tell of divine and human communion struggling to express itself in words, yet unable to relate its richness fully. And, third, something within me longs to continue the search for a deeper understanding of my own call and its meaning, past, present, and future. Those who help others discern their call should know well, understand fully, and discover anew the source of their own calling. The vocational story of each person is sacred; it is rich in faith. Our growth in faith should enable Gregory J. Polan OSB, the abbot of Conception Abbey, teaches courses in Scripture at Conception Seminary College and serves on the editorial board of The Bible Today. His mailing address is Conception Abbey; Conception, Missouri 64433. Review for Religious us to see with new eyes what God was choreographing in our first encounters .with the divine. The episodes of divine in-breaking in our own lives should say more to us now than they did thirty, twenty, or ten years ago or maybe just a year ago. The mystery of God's plan in our lives can be a source of strength and hope, of deepened faith and commitment, of renewed zeal and joyful response, of serious reflection and lighthearted humor for us and for others. Thus, the experience of renewing our call can be both a journey inward and a journey outward. I would like to consider some of the major call narratives of the Scriptures from a form-critical perspective, then move to a consideration of their meaning in our own lives by reflecting on their theological significance, and, finally, consider their rele-vance in the lives of candidates who come to us in our roles as vocation directors or directors of formation. Though these remarks are directed primarily to those who help candidates dis-cern a vocation to the ordained ministry or religious life, they may also help all who seek to rediscover the roots of their calling and to discern God's will in their lives. A Form-Critical View of Biblical Call Narratives For at least ten years, biblical scholars have been challeng-ing the practices of the historical-critical method of scriptural exegesis and showing its limitations. Solid scholarship has warned us about paying too much homage to historical criticism. It is not dead; it is just not the god some had made it out to be. Bringing different questions to the text for our topic at hand, I have found form criticism particularly helpful. Form criticism considers the oral transmission of a tradition and attempts to discover the life situation from which it arose. One aspect of form criticism has been neglected: its potential for revealing a theological message in a text. One effort of form crit-ics is to see a common pattern of thought among texts. Such a pattern reveals the manner in which a text unfolds in a topical, nearly thematic, presentation. For example, in laments of the Psalter, the thought pattern is rather consistent: The speaker (1) makes a plea for divine assistance, (2) describes the situation that causes distress and (3) tells God why divine assistance is needed, (4) then expresses a certain trust that God will heed the request, and, finally, (5) makes a promise to God or acknowledges deliv- May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward There are significant repercussions not only for the one being called, but for others as well. erance from other distressing situations. With remarkable con-sistency this pattern runs through the laments of the Psalter. But discovering the pattern is not the place to stop. There is more to be said, particularly on a theological level. What is the theological significance? How is it that our ances-tors in the faith followed such a pattern to express their need for divine assistance? Is there something in the human spirit that rec-ognizes these elements as essential when a person comes before God in a time of need? I suggest that, more than simple ancient conventions, the elements reveal to us something deep in the experience of the human-divine dialogue. The pattern is a perceptive sketch of the mystery of faith found in a particular kind of human expe-rience. "The Form and Significance of the Call Narrad;ces," a 1965 article by Norman Habel of Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, distinguishes a pattern found in several call narratives of the Old Testament: ~ 1. The divine confrontation. God or a divine messenger enters the scene. It is clear that a divine encounter is to take place. 2. The introductory word. A particular preparatory or explana-tory statement sets the scene further. It can be a greeting or a few clarifying words. 3. The commission. Next the person receives a direct command or imperative relating the task that lies ahead. 4. The objection. Invariably, there is a negative. The person shrinks from what seems to be an overwhelming task. 5. The reassurance. God (or the messenger) responds immedi-ately, assuring the person that the task will not have to be accom-plished alone; divine assistance will be on hand. 6. The sign. Though not every call narrative includes a sign, several do. In a sense, the sign continues the assurance of number 5 by guaranteeing that the promise God has made will be carried out. The divine word is faithful. I would like to illustrate the elements of this pattern, first revisiting biblical scenes and then relating them to our own sense of call and our work with candidates for the seminary and religious life.2 Review for Religious The Divine Confrontation (Scene 1) The biblical scene. Key to the significance of the opening scene is that God is breaking into ordinary life in an extraordinary way. The cattle-herder Amos tells of "being snatched away" from car-ing for his herd and being told to "go and prophesy" to neighbors who are at civil war with his own people (Am 7:15). In some mys-terious way the person being called knows that a divine encounter has taken place. The prophet Ezekiel is sitting by the river Chebar in Babylon when he encounters God. He comments, "The hand of the Lord was upon me" (Ezk 1:3). God enters the human scene. A visible manifestation of the divine presence has taken place. Scholars suggest that insistence on direct contact with the divine was seen as necessary for one who stood as mediator between God and other mortal beings) Consistently, the person being called "sees" God or something divine. Isaiah sees "the Lord sit-ting on a throne, high and lofty" (Is 6:1). Jeremiah tells of his experience in "the council of the Lord" (Jr 23:18). When the priests and prophets of the temple say Jeremiah deserves death for his harsh condemnation of the temple, he responds, "The Lord sent me to prophesy against this house and this city all the words you have heard . As for me,here I am in your hands. Do with me as seems good and right to you" (Jr 26:12, 14). The words are not Jeremiah's. He is a mouthpiece for God. What is important for our reflectiofi is that the call scene is of divine origin. And in each case, because God is acting, there are significant repercussions not only for the one being called, but for others as well. The divine confrontation situates an event of great importance for those who hear or read about the one called. Consider the divine confrontation in the call of Mary of Nazareth. At a critical moment in the history of salvation, God enters the scene through an angelic messenger--the divine presence is essen-tial. It signals a turning point, not only for the person receiving the call, but also for others--here, the whole human race. To support the significance of the divine origin and its impact, we need only ask how the Book of Jeremiah ever came to enter the canon of Scriptures. Its message from beginning to end (with rare moments of hope) is gloom and doom, suffering and pain. Why would such a message be reverenced as a measuring rod of the faith of Israel and the church? I suggest it was because of the con-viction that the prophet was visited by God, and the message he Mlay-June 1998 Polan ¯ ~ourney Inward, Journey Outward delivered, harsh and biting as it was, was true. The community of faith deemed it authentic, of divine origin. For the vocation director. Divine intervention is sometimes dif-ficult for us to express in words. Yet it is an important, even essen-tial, experience for each of us to examine. I dare say God is never more clearly God than when we experience divine presence and know we have been called. For Isaiah it was being in the pres-ence of the wholly/Holy Other (Is 6:35). While it need not be a "bolt of lightning," an encounter of "otherness" reveals divine in-breaking. And, if we take the Scriptures as our norm, it is the wholly/Holy Other who has called us. What remains is to dig deep within, to recover the moment or moments, to claim them as sacred, and to struggle to wrap words around what will never be adequately expressed. One of my favorite spiritual writers, Maria Boulding, speaks of divine encounter with eloquence and simplicity: "We live very close to a mysterious presence. God is 'nearer to me than I am to myself,' as St. Augustine put it, but we do not see or understand him. God is utterly mysterious, and strangely gentle. When he makes himself known we are confounded, yet at the heart of our bewilderment there is a sense of recognizing something we have always known. There is nothing else quite like it in our whole experience."4 It has been important for me to return to the moments of my call and see them in their stark simplicity. This return has awak-ened in me both a sense of the seriousness of the divine call in my life and a daily awareness of the divine presence steering me toward fuller, more joyful and faithful responses to everything around me. I have come to see how it was that God called me in my utter weakness, in my fears, in my doubts, in my naivet~, in my immaturity, and even in my sinfulness. God called me beyond those self-absorbing concerns and into new life. And as I con-tinue to return to themoments of God's call, an understanding of the meaning of divine visitation becomes fuller, brighter, and deeper. For the candidate. In A Touch of G~d, Dom Philip Jebb tells a personal story of an experience early in his religious life. It speaks to this point rather well: After a period of almost delirious joy in my praying, I had an experience of annihilation: I felt that I was being sucked into a "black hole." It was a positive experience of noth- Review for Religious ingness. It was the most horrific experience I have ever had: I seemed to be teetering on the edge of becoming nothing. This was not physical, it was not precisely in the mind, it was in the spirit, in the very roots of my being. I went to Dom Leander in a real terror, feeling that at any moment I was going not only out of my mind, but out of existence. And, when I told him of it in words of panic and despera-tion, he replied, "This is marvelous! The best thing that could happen to you; I only wish I were there with you in this." And I said, "If you can say that, then you have no comprehension of what I am talking about." He assured me that he did, and that I was experiencing the infinity and total otherness of God. In prayer we keep making concepts or ideas of God, and then making these into God, but, as we remain faithful to God and God to us, he has to break out of everything that appears to contain him, the bottom has to drop out of the world and the effect appears to be one of annihilation . It was at this time that I wrote a poem which begins, "Wonder is so sudden a gift.''s More than a few times in my experience as spiritual director, as seminary rector, and even now as abbot, someone has come to me in tears with a story similar in its horror but unique in its description. It is important that we be alert to the circuitous and mysterious paths God takes in human experience. Though so often it is God who provides the tender and gentle reminder of divine compassion amidst the assaults on our spirit, here it is the human director who responsively and kindly helps the struggling person understand that encounters with the divine often entail a night like Jacob's--who was afterward renamed Israel (Gn 32:22- 32). But, unless our own experience of the divine is close at hand, we risk missing the signs of a turning point, a moment of grace, a transition, an experience of conversion in the life of the candi-date. The Introductory Word (Scene 2) The biblical scene. The introductory word is important because it establishes a relationship between the human person and God. Here the person's importance before God is made clear. The word to the great unknown prophet of Second Isaiah was a promise of a covenant renewed in comfort and forgiveness (Is 40:1-3). For Mary of Nazareth, God's own delight in her is expressed: you are the "favored one; the Lord is with you" (Lk 1:28). Mary is indeed May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward special among God's people. Jeremiah is told that, before he was formed in his mother's womb, he was set apart to share in a divine mission (Jr 1:5). The introductory word makes the person receptive to the divine word that will come. It says that the divine choice is pre-ceded by divine love.6 The election to a special vocation comes, not because of talent or giftedness first, but out of divine love. Divine delight impels God to call the person to share in the salvific and redemptive plan. Here the word of God informs the person that he or she has a relationship with God that has been and is touched by blessing. Like God's constant and watchful love for Israel through desert wanderings and times of infidelity is the same divine love ever accompanying the recipient of God's call. The divine word is present in fidelity, in the assurance that God's justice--that is, right relationship--has inaugurated communion even before the commission is announced. For the vocation director. Whatever we hear in the Scriptures, even in the most obscure passages, tells us "who we are in rela-tionship to God." As with the introductory word of our call-nar-rative pattern, so the Scriptures constantly tell how God chooses to become one with us in all ages and times. Even in the harsh judgments given to Jeremiah to proclaim, we are reminded that God knows Israel's destruction is a prelude to its being rebuilt and renewed (Jr 1:10). In Hosea's suffering with his unfaithful wife, we are reminded not so much of human infidelity as of God's desire for healing and the restoration of a relationship of mutual intimacy and communion (Ho 2:21-2 3; NRSV). The introductory word or the call narrative is a sacrament of the divine word, the whole of Scripture. It is the font of truth and wisdom that reveals our truest identity. For those of us who are involved in the work of formation and discernment, God's word carl be the surest source of daily nourishment, satisfying and building up an inner vitality. For us who have experienced a call and responded to it, the divine word unfolds an ever deepening realization of "who we are" and "what we are to become" before God. By our attentive listening to the word of God, our awareness of God's voice in our daily lives is heightened and sensitized. A favorite passage of mine which strongly witnesses to such attentive listening comes at the end of the Book of Deuteronomy. As the people stand ready to cross over the .Jordan, their leader Moses says, as part of his final words to them: "This commandment that I enjoin on you today is not too Review for Religious hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, 'Who will go up to heaven for us and get it for us that we may hear it and observe it?' Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, 'Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us and get it for us, so that we may hear it and observe it?' No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart; you have only to carry it out" (Dt 30:11-14). If we choose to be a people of the word, the word will trans-form us by its inherent power. In that power we will come to the deepest sense of our own identity and, importantly, the rich identity of every per-son created by God. For the candidate. In recent years I have been struck by the pastoral sensitivity of one of the members of the hierarchy, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini sJ. In 1979 he was appointed archbishop of Milan. Before that, he had been rector of the Pontifical Biblical Institute (1969-1978) and of the Gregorian University (1978- 1979) in Rome. He is a man of interna-tional reputation as a biblical scholar, a text critic to be exact. He was a member of a team of five text critics (and the only Catholic) that prepared the most up-to-date critical edition of the Greek New Testament, In Milan he inaugurated a program of spiritual renewal for the young adults of the city. He met with them weekly to read and discuss the Scriptures, dealing with a particular book of the Bible or a biblical theme.7 Martini always began with a brief explanation of the texts under consideration; but after this presentation it was time for the young adults to talk, to ask ques-tions, and to pray from the Scriptures--to be formed according to the word of God. I would like to suggest that, in this era after the Second Vatican Council, we use the Scriptures with ever greater convic-tion as our document of faith in the work of formation. From cover to cover the Bible tells us time and time again what I con-sider essential for the experience of formation: (1) our identity in relationship to God, the divine-human relationship moving toward communion; (2) the continuous call to conversion, the need for the sinner to return to God; and (3) the meaning of the paschal mystery, our union with Christ in the experience of suf- The introductory word or the call narrative is a sacrament of the whole of Scripture. 2Vlay-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward fering, dying, and rising to new life. In a time when our candidates suffer deprivation of Catholic culture, we can use the divine word to get them rooted in the reality of God's steadfast love for them and aware of the offer of redemption which is theirs and ours each day. The Commission and the Objection (Scenes 3 and 4) The biblical scene. At the moment when God gives the imper-ative, there is a sharp demarcation between the past and future of the one being called. A new course is being charted. The com-mission from God encapsulates the task that lies ahead. There is a clear sense that the one being commissioned goes in the name of God, as a kind of ambassador--not to give his or her own word, his or her own decision, but God's. The mission is a divine one; and, fittingly, it is the challenge of a lifetime. For Moses, slow of speech, it was to deliver God's command to release the Hebrew slaves. For Amos it was to enter the territory of his enemies and there deliver a condemnatory message. For Isaiah it was to con-tinue speaking God's word, to make the hearts of the people even more sluggish than they were. Mary, the fianc6e of Joseph, was told that she would bear a son who would assume the Davidic throne; she was to be the mother of the Messiah. At this point the narrative moves into a moment of tension. Clearly, the task is beyond the person's immediate or native capa-bilities. The task is so different that the commission becomes life-altering. The cattle-herder Amos will become an orator. The tender of flocks, Moses, is to be a political mediator. The priest Ezekiel will assume the role of a prophet. Because of this mis-sion, life will no longer be as it was. By their words and their lives, those being commissioned will witness to God's inteiwention in the history of their people. It is no exaggeration to say that the commission informs the persons that the call has an impact beyond their own life and will touch the lives of the people to whom they belong. It has an impact on the history of God's peo-ple. These people will be living reminders of what God is doing at what appears to be "the turn of the ages." Two scenes that tell of the impact of the commission on the lives of the prophets stand out in my mind. Isaiah had two sons. Each was given a symbolic name to tell the people what God intended to do. One son was called Shear-yashub (Is 7:3), which Review for Religious means "a remnant shall remain." The other son was called Maher-shalal- hash-baz (Is 8:1), which means "quick the spoil, speedy the plunder." Both names tell of an impending doom. In the Scriptures, names are linked to people's identity and mission. The sons of Isaiah reminded him that he was to tell the nation of Judah, "You are damned"--so life-altering was the call to Isaiah! A second scene comes from the confessions of the prophet Jeremiah. In the prophetic literature we rarely glimpse the prophetic experience; what we are given is the words, the utter-ances of the prophets, In the confessions of Jeremiah, however, we have a rare insight into the challenge this prophet faced. Consider this passage: "O Lord, you have enticed me, and I was enticed; you have overpowered me, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all day long; everyone mocks me. For whenever I speak I must cry out, I must shout, 'Violence and destruction!' For the word of the Lord has become for me a reproach and deri-sion all day long. If I say, 'I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name,' Then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up within my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot" (Jr 20:7-9). Jeremiah says that the mission entrusted to him has brought him nothing but rejection, hatred, and mockery. So he resolves not to speak the words God gives him. But then that very word becomes a raging fire within him; he cannot but utter the message God has given him. He is impelled and driven to accomplish the mission given to him. Both of these passages supplement the com-mission given to the prophet in the call narrative and help us bet-ter appreciate the demands of God's task. Not surprisingly, the person receiving the commission always shrinks from so enormous a challenge. It is difficult to say with certainty where the objection stems from. Some suggest that humility or a sense of inadequacy is the reason: Who would not shrink from the duty of being God's agent?8 The examples drawn from Isaiah and Jeremiah are, in psychological terms, occasions when a person submerges his or her own ego in order to repre-sent or live for another. We may classify such behavior as some-thing unhealthy and odious, but it nevertheless emerges from the biblical text as an example of the personal dynamics involved in the commission and the subsequent objection. Furthermore, it tells us something of what our ancestors in the faith realized when God made total claim upon their lives. May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward For the vocation director. Most of us could tell a compelling story of how the experience of call or the living-out of that call yanked us from something comfortable into something challeng-ing and new. And yet such life-seasoning in the priesthood or religious life has probably brought us considerable blessing to balance the challenge. But there is another aspect of the commis-sion- objection experience we sometimes take for granted: how the response of one has an impact on the destiny of many. We can, at times, become so caught up in what we are doing or how we are responding that we fail to realize that God is in the midst of our activity and that our work for the gospel is having an effect far more sweeping than we can see or realize. We call this phe-nomenon corporate personality from the perspective of the Hebrew Scriptures, and Body of Christ in the Christian Scriptures. We are more intimately bound to one another than we can com-prehend. As the sin of one affects others, so also does the good-ness of one have a ripple effect. And the Scriptures tell us powerfully how the destinies of many are affected by the response in obedience to God's invitation. In Genesis 12:1 God calls Abram to go from his country, his relatives, and his immediate family to a land that will be pointed out to him. Then in Genesis 12:4 the terse description of his response is potent: "So Abram went as the Lord had told him." The text is concise, not because there was nothing to say about the experience, but because the obedi-ence of one with an unknown future was to be the very founda-tion of a people yet to be created--but it started here. The fiat of Mary is another powerful example: theyes of an unassuming young woman set in motion the final eschatological age, the inaugura-tion of the end times. Reflection on such experience in our own lives reveals how our "journey inward" w!ll direct our "journey outward." Consistently in the Scriptures we see how a call by God sends a person on that inward search to respond, to assess the situation, to weigh the daunting challenge. An affirmative response then sets off another dynamic movement. The inward journey then--by divine design, I believe--attaches a person ever more closely to the human fam-ily, to the faith community, to yet unknown persons who will be touched by a faith-filled fiat. In ways mysterious, we become agents of the divine, touching the lives of others by following the call we have received. For the candidate. Some time ago I was struck by the promo- Review for Religious tion materials of a college seminary which promised its students all kinds of benefits: numerous majors from which to choose, big-city life with its hustle and bustle, and high-tech opportunities. Is this what should attract a candidate to the seminary or a religious community? What occurs to me is that, if we are assisting adult men and women in their discernment of God's call, our biblical tradition tells us that we had better be honest in telling them what the divine in-breaking in their lives will bring. Certainly there are rich benefits in responding to the call. There are joys in God's service that cannot be purchased--they are of divine giving. But real challenges lie ahead demanding personal sacrifice of con-siderable magnitude. Further, there are the "nuts and bolts" of what we mean by vocation, by being called. I have to distinguish between my vocation and my career. In essence, as a Benedictine monk I am called to live under a Rule and an abbot, to live in community and where I witness to the meaning of the paschal mystery. This is my vocation. My pre-vious work as rector of a seminary, as teacher, and other things I do are secondary; they are, for want of a better word, my career. And the works of my community are secondary to the essence of our life together. For those who belong to religious communi-ties, getting back to our roots, understanding our charisms, and witnessing to the reasons why we followed the call of God are essential. Those who come to stay with us as they discern God's call will see who we are from only one perspective, from a limited view. They need to receive honest answers to their questions about religious life. We must not promise them anything other than what the gospel promises. Are they in love with the Word they are called to preach and teach and live? Can they happily encourage all to realize their potential in the community of faith, and so assist in building a church of living stones? Every Christian is called into the paschal mystery. But the call to priesthood or religious life is a unique entry into that mys-tery- not better, but special because of its demands. As a novice, I remember, I had a certain fascination with the person of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and an appreciation for his writings, especially those from the time of his imprisonment and his personal struggle to return to his native land. In Life Together Bonhoeffer writes of the call each baptized Christian receives: "When Christ calls a person, he bids that individual, 'Come and die.'''9 Those three words, "Come and die," are a mighty challenge. In my experi- May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward ence of working with college-age candidates for the priesthood and monastic life, I see within them the desire to be challenged to live life more generously, more radically, and more distinctively. VChat we have to do is capture their zeal, help them direct it in a positive and healthy way, and challenge them to selfless service. The Reassurance and the Sign (Scenes 5 and 6) The biblical scene. The reassurance is integral to the develop-ment of the pattern in the call narratives, and important as a response to the objection which has been given. Notice that the divine response is particular to the protest, emphasizing that God will be dynamically present in the situation and intimately involved in the endeavor. There is something distinctly symbolic in the way objections are answered in God's call to Gideon, Moses, and Jeremiah. When the negative reaction comes with an excuse explaining why they cannot respond affirmatively, God simply says, "I am indeed with you." In this response we see a hint of the divine name YHWH, "I am," that is to say, "I stake my name on it." In the biblica'l tradition, personal names are intimately tied up with identity and mission. A person receives a new name, and with that change comes a shift in both identity and mission. For example, the name Abram means "exalted father"; the name Abraham means "father of a host of nations." The word of reas-surance from God links the divine identity with the human mis-sion, forging a bond of divine commitment to this human person and the task at hand. Of further importance here is the under-standing that, in the divine reassurance, the person who has received God's call is now impelled, not by feeling, not by self-direction, but by the power of the divine word. God has given to the one who has been called not only a word to establish rela-tionship, not only a commission, but also a word of reassurance. On equal footing with the word of commission is the word of reassurance. Sometimes there is a further elaboration to heighten the prominence of the reassurance, namely, a sign. Sometimes a sign is asked for, as in the case of Gideon. At other times, God gives a sign--to Moses, for example, in the form of wonders he per-forms before Pharaoh, Mary was told that her kinswoman Elizabeth, even in her old age, had conceived a son; the one thought to be barren was now in her sixth month. The sign is a Review for Religious complement to the divine word and brings to light the full assur-ance that God will be true to the promise already given. For the vocation director. One of the things which the call nar-ratives do not tell us is how it all worked out in the end. We know nothing of the final days of some who received calls, like Amos and Ezekiel. However, there are a few glimpses of successes and failures in prophetic voca-tions. Isaiah's word of advice to Hezekiah saved the people when the threat of Assyria's armies foretold ultimate doom (Is 36-39). The wrenching vocation of Hosea found confirmation in the healing of a bro-ken marriage bond. But the vocation of Jeremiah brought him to gaze on the ruin of Jerusalem as he was carried off against his will to Egypt (Jr 40:13-43:7); where Israel had been a slave, Jeremiah was now a captive. The life of Jeremiah came to symbolize the broken and fragmented experience of Israel's history. Somehow, in the mystery of both successes and failures, there is the belief that God's mission is being accomplished and the call was authentic. Our work in vocation ministry embraces the joys of seeing candidates move into community life or become productive ordained ministers, the sorrows of seeing a call declined, and the anxieties about individuals' uncertain futures whether in respond-ing to God's calls or in rejecting them. How important it is for us to realize that our work as vocation directors is part of a larger vocation, a broader calling that is still unfolding. I am reminded of another autobiographical sketch from A Touch of God that speaks to the mystery of vocation. Maria Boulding recalls her appoint-ment to work in formation: At about the time the Second Vatican Council ended, I was appointed novice mistress and held the job for nine years. It was a complex experience. In some ways it was joy: there was all the dynamism of the council; I had a feeling of being fully used, of being in a job where I could give all I had to give; there was the work with people, and some lasting friendships were established. But there was also, especially in the later years, a sharp sense of personal inadequacy for the work. I helped a few people, but others not at all, and I ended up with a general sense of failure. I am heartily Somehow, in the mystery of both successes and failures, there is the belief that God's mission is being accomplished. 2Ylay-~ne 1998 glad that I was taken off the job, although at the time it was wrench, a little death . At the same time I had another experience of great significance. This was the work of the English Benedictine Congregation's theological com-mission, on which I served for years in the production of Consider Your Call and in other enterprises which grew from that. This whole experience has been one of the most enriching of my entire monastic life . The result of all this experience has been that in those years and subsequently the greatest friendships of my life have flowered. I have found a capacity for friendship with many people both inside and outside my own community, gained confidence in my ability to love and to dare a little more to let myself be loved and known. Even when everything seems primed for a perfect way of living out one's call, the blessing we experience is often not the one we anticipated. And when one door seems to close in our face with a shocking slam, another opens on untold blessings, if we will enter it. In our own calling we are invited to live in the faith of the assurance that was once given to us. What lies at the core of that promise is my willingness to live fully, not in my career, but in my vocation, in my calling. This is not to say that the two are not intimately connected; they are, but they are also separate. In our assignments we live part of our "journey outward" by being of service to others. As vocation directors we give of ourselves by offering our wisdom, by letting our story be known, and by direct-ing others as best we can. In whatever we do, when we live out of our calling, our vocation, we give witness to the ground of our committed life. And there we can enrich the lives of others in ways we do not know, for by living in the power of God's word to us we are able to accomplish much. For ibe. candidate. One great challenge in working with voca-tion prospects is the difficulty they have making a commitment. At times I have asked myself: Do I know more students who have committed themselves to trying the seminary, or do I know more who are "sitting, on the fence"? It is a phenomenon of our society and our age that young adults are making commitments later in life. Our own seminarians gasp when I tell them that I entered the novitiate at age twenty. And yet psychologists tell us that our twenties are the years most formative of the pattern of life we live as adults. What can we do? What should we do? To share with our candidates the reassurances and signs of God in our own experiences could be one of the greatest gifts we Review for Religious offer them. Here we speak from a faith that has been tested and proven to be one of our greatest treasures. If we can help our candidates to view life through the lens of faith, they will see an essential ingredient in living their religious or ordained life. Especially in their youth we need to capitalize on their zeal and enthusiasm for trying new ways and seeing from new perspec-tives. I have been pleasantly surprised to discover only later that the times I have challenged seminarians and spiritual advisees to a deeper faith have been the moments that have stuck with them, even haunted them. Our candidates need the experiences we share with them. Allowing others to hear of our circuitous journeys inward and our journey~ outward may be more formative for our candidates than we realize. What the Scriptures tell us of a theology of vocation has roots in personal experiences of God, experiences that are life-altering. Many of us grew up in a time when priests and religious did not talk much about their experience of call. But, when they did, even the slightest glimpse of their response to God's call set us on fire with zeal, enthusiasm, and the desire to follow their example. That the Scriptures reveal the call narratives in a recognizable literary form tells us that our ancestors in the faith saw such stories as deeply formative, not only for the persons called, but for the whole community of faith. They remind us how sacred our own jour-neys of faith are, not only for ourselves, but for others as well. Reflecting on "call" stories continues our own formation and our development of a theology of vocation. When we discover even mere bits of our own story in the pages of the Bible, we give to others a living theology of vocation. And, when we see our lives reflected on the pages of Scripture, we are strengthened to bring that written word to bear on our own lives. What we have come to consider, then,-is that a theology of vocation unites the journey inward, where we discbver the divine resources given us, and the journey outward, where we live selflessly in accord with the divine word that summoned us. Notes l N. Habel, "The Form and Significance of the Call Narratives," ZAW 77 (1965): 297-323. z The following are the classical call narratives in the Scriptures: Moses (Ex 3:1 - 12); Gideon (Jg 6:1-40); Isaiah (Is 6:1-13); Deutero-Isaiah (Is 40:3-8); Jeremiah (Jr 1:4-10); Ezekiel (Ezk 1 : 1-3:11); Hosea (Ho 1-3); Amos (Am 7:10-17); Mary (Lk 1:26-37). Others that can be considered call May-J~ote 1998 scenes but do not follow the usual pattern include: Abraham (Gn 12:1-4); Samuel (1 S 3:1-4:1); Elisha (1 K 19:19-21); Paul (Ga 1:11-24; Acts 9:1- 19; 22:3-16; 26:2-18); Peter (Mt 4:18-22; Mk 1:16-22; Lk 5:1-11); Matthew (Mt 9:9-13). 3 Habel, "The Form," p. 317. 4 Maria Boulding, The Coming of God (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1982), p. 125. s Philip Jebb, "Wonder Is So Sudden a Gift," in A Touch of God: Eight Monastic Journeys, ed. Maria Boulding (London: SPCK, 1982), p. 7. 6 Gerard Meagher, "The Prophetic Call Narrative," Irish Theological Quarterly 39, no, 2 (1972): 17. 7 A number of these conferences given by Carlo Martini to the young adults of Milan have been translated and published in several volumes; see Carlo Maria Martini, The Joy of the Gospel, trans. James McGrath (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994). s Habel, "The Form," p. 319. 9 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1954), p. 8. ,0 Maria Boulding, "A Tapestry, from the Wrong Side," in A Touch of God, pp. 33-35. Antiphon in the Style of Hildegard 0 You who made the sharp shinned hawk with red eyes rend the singing sparrows with the silent slice of death, who fill the sunset sky with roses and crows, who paint the breast of the warbler with flashes of your Spirit and crown the finger small kinglet with your blood, bless me with wonder at the paradox of your plans. Like birds, may my heart's croaks and arias praise You. Anne Higgins DC Review for Religious MARIE CHIODO AND MARY IRVING An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating As an introduction to their book Toward a Human Worm Order, Gerald and Pat Mische recount a parable, "The Coat That Got Too Small." An outsider had met on a strange planet about a hundred fifty gasping and groaning people with contorted faces. Their coats "were much too small. Buttons and zippers were being strained to the limit and seams threatened to tear at the sides. Their bodies bulged against the overstretched fabric as if the contents had been stuffed in with tremendous effort." In talking with one of the women in the group, the out-sider pointed out: "It's your coat . It's too tight . Maybe you should get a new one that fits you better. It looks like this one has served you in the past, but now it is more like a straitjacket than a coat.". After considerable time., she started, between gasps, to tell me their story. They had had these coats since they were young, she said. It seemed to be the fashion. No one ever questioned it before. Marie Chiodo DW, a member of the provincial board of the United States province of the Daughters of Wisdom and an organizational con-sultant, does facilitation and process and program design with religious congregations and other nonprofit groups. Her address is 416 Branch Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20901. E-mail: mchiodo53@aol.com Mary Irving SSND, DMin, served as the itinerant theologian for the Daughters of Wisdom theological renewal process. A consultant in spir-ituality for religious communities, she also teaches and offers retreats and spiritual direction. Her address is 2202 Westview Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. E-mail: mirvingssnd@juno.com . May-finite 1998 Cbiodo and Irving * Theological Updating "But surely you have grown very much since then," I said incredulously, trying to constrain myself. "But what else is there?" She strained, but went on whenever she could get enough breath to say that she liked this coat. It had, after all, been hers for a very long time. 'Tm used to it now. It makes me feel . " She searched for a long time, looking for breath and for the right word. "Secure," she puffed out at last.I The coats help us picture an individual's or a community's unnecessarily limited theological understanding of self and oth-ers, the world, and God. Christian tradition is passed on through time with the in~ent of bringing Jesus Christ's transforming action to each generation of believers. Yet each era brings new cultural and historical settings. The new experiences and new questions about God and the self, others, and the world that arise in these new settings must be brought into a dialogue with the ancient traditions of the faith. From the 15th century to the 19th, new questions about evan-gelization and the education of the poor were raised by many European Christians, including women who were concerned about the care of the sick poor and the education of poor girls. The result was the establishment of numerous "apostolic" religious congregations, a category unknown till then. Vatican Council II's Gaudium et spes, the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, explicitly addressed the new questions and atti-tudes with which the church needed to engage that world, which had been viewed more as an opponent than a friend. If the Christian tradition and contemporary experience do not regu-larly engage in such dialogue, an individual's or a community's "coat" becomes strained and stretched. This article reviews the efforts of women religious to be free of unnecessarily constrictive theological coats, tells of one province's theological updating, and then offers reflections on these matters. An Historical Perspective on Theological Updating The impetus toward theological updating for United States women religious in the late 1990s is the most recent manifestation of a recurring pattern of the past fifty years. Three major moments will illustrate the pattern. The first moment was the expansion of the Catholic school system in the United States. The need for sisters to teach in the Review for Religious many schools often meant that young women religious were sent out to teach with little if any academic preparation. The 1941 doctoral research of Sister Bertrande Myers DC revealed grave inadequacies in the academic and theological preparation of many United States sisters in the first four decades of the 20th cen-tury. A 1949 presentation to the National Catholic Educational Association on the education of young religious sisters by Sister Madeleva Wolff CSC brought this problem to a wider audience. By 1953 the Sister Formation Conference, led by Sister Mary Emil Penet IHM, had been established to initiate a major project: seeing that new members received college degrees before entering the classroom. This effort was fash-ioned from the beginning with an integrated vision: theological, spiritual, and profes-sional elements were to be present simu.lta-neously in the curriculum. The sisters who were sent for master's and doctoral degrees and the young sisters who benefited from their teaching were the first recipients of updated thinking in both theology and pro-fessional fields,z As this integrated profes-sional, theological, and spiritual formation became standard at the undergraduate level, many sisters went on for degrees in higher education in their fields, but their contin-uing theological and spiritual updating was often overlooked. The second historical moment was brought about by the teachings of the Vatican Council in the 1960s. The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) brought long-for-gotten biblical and sacramental images of the church into focus. The juridical emphasis of the past four hundred years was expanded and deepened by the new prominence given to the bib-lical image of the people of God; the baptismal holiness of the laity was proclaimed once again. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World transformed centuries of dichotomy between the church and the world into reverent and realistic openness. These and many other documents--for exam-ple, those on liturgy, religious freedom, and revelation--demon-strated the universal church's own desire to let out theological coats, some of which had remained unchanged for centuries. A pervasive if nebulous spiritual hunger discloses itself in the United States culture generally and in the members of many faith traditions. Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating Countless short- and longer-term initiatives surfaced in a variety of, congregational, parish, and educational settings, providing necessary biblical and theological.updating for many sisters. Now, thirty years .after the council, a third moment has arrived. The imminence of the millennium heightens in many congregations an awareness of the need for new theological and spiritual coats for these times. Theology expands and deepens in every area. The modern era in culture has yielded to a postmod-ern one. Scientific discoveries at the micro, macro, planetary, and cosmic levels challenge both theology and spirituality. Societies worldwide move increasingly into an awareness of their inter-connectedness and interdependence. A pervasive if nebulous spir-itual hunger discloses itself in the United States culture generally and in the members of many faith traditions. Women religious, too, find theological and spiritual challenges in this new world as well as in the diminishment of their numbers. Many apostolic congregations of women intuit with faith and hope the need for renewal that will enable them to minister better to today's church and society. Some have already initiated such a process. Looking at this spirit-hungry world, other congregations, chapters, and assemblies are recognizing the need for both theological and spir-itual updating for their members. For many, apostolic work of a theological kind provides the initial impetus. But with this moti-vation comes the realization that a sister's own integrity requires that she look to her own theological and spiritual updating if she is to be credible to others. One Province's Story The United States province of the international congrega-tion of the Daughters of Wisdom responded to the mandate of their general and provincial chapters "to deepen the spirituality of the congregation, in order to allow ourselves to be transformed by Wisdom, so as to live according to Her ways and to reveal Her." Responsibility for the implementation that would lead to theo-logical updating about Wisdom was shared by the leadership team and the membership. Leadership saw its role as, first, to initiate the conversations that would identify and articulate the theolog-ical needs among the sisters and then to put in place the structures to respond to those needs. Together sisters, associates, and lay collaborators would take a good look at their theological coats. Review for Reli~ous They would do so in the light of their personal spiritual experi-ence of the charism, contemporary writers and theologians, and the shared wisdom of the community. The leadership team fash-ioned a process that would engage a planning committee, cluster conveners in several geographic areas, and sisters and laypersons in the search for Wisdom. The province numbers approximately a hundred fifty sisters, mostly on the East Coast. Their diverse ministries include edu-cation, healthcare, religious education, retreat work, and social services. For four years the sisters had participated in faith-shar-ing groups called wisdom circles where they had pursued Wisdom spirituality with associates and other laypersons through books, articles, and prayer together. Threads for refashioning theologi-cal coats were already being spun. Yet the sisters wanted more. Though all of them sought Wisdom, there were conflicting views that involved cherished convictions about God and prayer, Christology, the emerging Sophia/Wisdom spirituality, and fem-inist theologizing. A Theological Education Process A four-stage theological education process was developed that would involve sisters, associates, and ministry colleagues in study, reflection, and dialogue on contemporary theology, church tra-dition, and present world realities. The four stages werd: (1) a think tank, (2) an itinerant theologian, (3) a province gathering, and (4) a year of itinerancy. The Think Tank. Twelve sisters with widely differing approaches to God, prayer, and spirituality were invited to be part of a think tank. Their role was twofold: to find out what the operative theologies were among the sisters and to engage in a weekend of discernment focused on the Wisdom charism. The twelve who agreed to participate in the think tank were given several articles for their study and were asked to interview five randomly chosen sisters in the province about their rela-tionship with God. Interview questions were devised for each to use. In the interviews, conducted by phone or face-to-face, the think-tank participants explored who God has been to the sister, how her ideas of God had or had not changed,.and what she still yearned for in her relationship with God. The interviewers took notes from these interactions and formulated their response to May-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating this question: From your interviews, what did you learn about the transformation by Wisdom in the life of our sisters? The twelve expressed awe at what took place during these interviews. Sisters spoke candidly and with deep wisdom about their life journeys. One recurring comment was, "No one has ever asked me these questions in the community." Excitement was generated in the province, such that the discernment week-end was not just for an elite twelve. It would now bear the imprint of the spiritual search of all the sisters. The responses collated from the interviews formed the start-ing point of the work on the weekend. In the course of the two days, the twelve sisters and the leadership team prayed and dia-logued as they struggled with the differing and often conflicting theological understandings among themselves. But most notable was the effort to hear and have a reverence for what others cher-ished in the tradition. The vision statement that emerged from the weekend articulated both our commonly held understanding of Wisdom and the theological diversity regarding Wisdom as Sophia/Wisdom and as the Christ: We are united in our desire for the fullness of God's trans-forming love. Consistent with our Congregational tradi-tion, we see ourselves as seekers of God as Wisdom. We acknowledge and accept that we hold diverse understandings of Wisdom: for example, Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus, Christ/Sophia, Sophia. As we seek Wisdom, we remain mutually receptive. It is through dialogue and faith sharing that we claim our own individual experience, cherish the experience of others, and in that engagement enrich each other. In so doing, we com-mit ourselves to the process of transformation by Wisdom. This transformation by Wisdom impels us to active involve-ment in our fractured world. Equally important was the emergence of identifiable theo-logical areas that the community needed to explore together in more depth: Christology, feminist spirituality, Wisdom/Sophia. Finding an Itinerant Theologian. The planning included having one theologian walk with the province for an extended period of time. This would provide consistency in content and process. The term itinerant theologian was thus coined. The theological task was clear: to provide exposure to both traditional and contem-porary theology around the areas identified by the think tank. It was also clear that this was to occur in a climate of reverence for Review for Religious diverse theological positions and of openness to understand posi-tions different from one's own. The leadership team proceeded to identify what it sought in a theologian who would walk with the province over the next eighteen months. Criteria indicated some-one who would engage the province in theological reflection on their experience of God/Wisdom; on someone with breadth of knowledge and vision in regard to traditional and contemporary Christology and Wisdom theology; on someone who would respect the differing positions while inviting all to grow in new understandings of Wisdom; on someone who could integrate theology with spirituality. A tall order indeed! But a necessary one if the province was to continue together the retailoring of its theo-logical coats. The leadership team found a person with the theological education and experience in spiritu-ality. What is more, they found a person who knew how to place the contemporary in the heart of the tradition of the church. The retailoring would involve weaving new threads into appropriate ample fabrics, The province--sisters, associates, and other laypersons--would weave various strands together at the province gathering. The Province Gathering. The theme ~elected was "Touching the Textures of Wisdom." A planning .committee was put in place to work with the results of the think-tank weekend and with the itinerant theologian. They developed a design for the four days of the gathering, with particular attention given to content, process, and ritual around the three themes of Christology, Wisdom, and Women. In the months before the gathering, sisters received the results of the think tank and articles in each of these areas for their study and reflection. The gathering itself provided time for reflection on one's own experience, time for input and ritualizing, time to process its meaning, and time to dialogue with one another and with the itinerant theologian about emerging understandings. The atmo-sphere was conducive to forming new insights about God and Wisdom in such a way that sisters did not feel coerced to change We acknowledge and accept that we hold diverse understandings of Wisdom: for example, Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus, Christ/Sophia, Sophia. 253 . iYlay-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological U.p~,__tin~ the way they approached God. Yet many said they saw both God and Wisdom with new eyes. The consistency, between traditional and contemporary insights regarding Wisdom wove new theo-logical fabrics for many. These fabrics had patterns of theologi-cal themes which the sisters wanted to examine more closely in the itinerant year. The themes were: ¯ Wisdom Christology in the New Testament ¯ Wisdom and Contemplation of God's Creation ¯ Lady Wisdom in the Old Testament ¯ Sophia Theology ¯ Feminist Theology ¯Julian of Norwich ¯ Liberation Theology. This large group of themes needed to be reduced to a man-ageable number. In the end there were three. "Wisdom in the New Testament" was a top choice of four of the six groups. "Sophia Theology" would involve looking at the emerging under-standing of the Trinity from feminist perspectives on Wisdom. "Creation, Women, and God" was to explore theologies of cre-ation emerging from feminist and ecological perspectives. The six cluster groups were scheduled for the fall of 1996 and the spring of 1997. The year began in St. Agatha, Maine, traveled to Islip, New York, Litchfield, Connecticut, and Portsmouth, Virginia, and concluded in Islip. The Year of Itinerancy. The cluster weekends were open to sisters and to invited lay people. Sisters indicated their first and second choices of topics, and attempts were made to honor choices. Sisters in each geographic area were invited to be cluster conveners. This involved their being in contact with the itinerant theologian, seeing to preparation of prayer and ritual, and basically organizing travel and hospitality for sisters and lay people. Several months before their cluster weekend, sisters received articles and materials for their study and reflection. The itinerant theologian traveled to the various sites to conduct the weekend in much the manner of her work at the province gathering: reflection on experience, theolog-ical input, and time for reflection, interaction, and ritual. The Itinerant Theologian's Reflection on the Year The interrelated themes of charism and community serve as pivotal points around which to structure these reflections. Review for Religious Charism. The charism of seeking after Wisdom, of hunger-ing and thirsting for her, is vibrant in the Daughters of Wisdom. For three hundred years the members have been nourished by St. Louis Marie de Montfort's profound biblical and theological book titled The Love of Eternal Wisdom. The province's participa-tion in wisdom circles was apparent in the July gathering and intensified in the cluster groups. Many biblical passages on Wisdom were old familiar friends. Some sisters had broken ground with new research on Wisdom/Sophia; others continued to find richness in Montfort's articulation of Christ as Eternal Wisdom. All were eager to deepen what they knew, to make con-nections, and to move to the unfamiliar, even when risky. This was as true of the women in their seventies, eighties, and nineties as it was of the newest members. The charism was evident in the prayers developed for the opening of both days of each work-shop. Local sisters prepared and led these prayers with remarkable originality, incorporating Scripture, ritual, guided meditations, and dialogue. The prayers' power each time reinforced the truth that the cluster workshops reverenced both the biblical theology that was being presented and the praying community as equal sources of Wisdom. Community. A community is, at any given historical moment, the living incarnation of its charism. In this time of new scholar-ship on biblical Wisdom, more diversity has surfaced than in pre-vious years. Province members struggled to be faithful to the tradition of Wisdom as it continues to develop theologically and spiritually. Since such struggles intimately involve community, two interrelated goals become central for the entire updating pro-cess: to assist each member to recognize her own Wisdom spiri-tuality and to respect the diverse Wisdom spiritualities of others. The cluster weekends with their smalle~ numbers (averaging twenty sisters and lay participants) allowed a more intensive use of the dynamics of the process. Three components promoted the goals: (1) a historical perspective, (2) theology and spirituality working together, and (3) religious and lay solidarity through baptism. History. A central conviction shaped the presentations in the province gathering and in the cluster workshops: to know history is to grow in freedom. Thusl history was a key factor in the clus-ter workshops. Only recently have biblical studies made possible a coherent look at the Old Testament Wisdom literature and at the May-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving * Theological Updating Theology assists believers in speaking about the God they believe in; their experience of God's invitation and the response they make is what we call spirituality. influence of Wisdom categories on the New Testament under-standing of Jesus Christ. Only recently has feminist theology explored Wisdom/Sophia as a help in rethinking Christology and Trinitarian theology. Even more recently, Sophia theology is becoming a source for ecological theology. Over and over, the participants expressed gratitude for the historical, biblical, and theological perspectives that allowed them to place their own charism and spirituality in context. Overall, the province gathering and the cluster workshops provided a uni-fying and freeing focus for all mem-bers of the province as they participated in events with a common historical perspective and a common set of biblical, theological, and spiri-tual experiences. The members can now speak across geographical bound-aries with a language which all under-stand. Theology/Spirituality. As charism and community are strands in the reweaving, of our theological coats, so are theologyand spirituality. Theology assists believers in speaking about the God they believe in; their experience of God's invitation and the response they make in their individual and community lives is what we call spirituality. In the gathering and in the cluster work-shops, the act of clarifying historical and contemporary speech about Christ, Wisdom, and women's relationship to God allowed the members of the province to distinguish between speaking about God in theological terms and reflecting on their own and others' experience of and response to God. This crucial clarifi-cation reduced conflict and enhanced the goals of helping each member to understand her own Wisdom spirituality better and to respect the diverse Wisdom spirituality of others. The refash-ioning of theological coats allowed people to breathe more com-fortably in. their own spirituality and their community relationships and to achieve what improved breathing provides: a renewed and healthier life. Unity through Baptism. Most cluster workshops contained pro-fessed sisters, former sisters, associates, .and "Friends of Wisdom": Review for Religious ministry colleagues and others interested in Wisdom. Careful guidelines were developed for invitation. The inviting sister-- after describing, to those who showed interest, the content and proceedings of the July province gathering--distributed the mate-rial to be read and later reflected on in the cluster group. This ori-entation provided a common ground for the cluster experience. Despite differences in life experiences, sisters and laypersons were able to relate to questions and issues that had emerged from the province gathering--this was the reading matter for use in the cluster groups. The energy and richness of the different per-spectives provided a model of an ecclesial community of women where historically rigid boundaries between laywomen and women religious could be reshaped. Their unity as baptized Christians became the pattern of deftly woven fabrics suitable for retailoring theological coats of Wisdom. Learnings. How can this concrete and particularized account of one province's experience of theological updating serve oth-ers who may be embarking on a similar project? What general movements can be gleaned for the benefit of all? How can the theological coats be let out to fit without harming the cloth? Six components of this process contributed to the careful alterations of this province's theological coats. First, this project demonstrated the value of a solid founda-tion. The general chapter's directives provided such a founda-tion. Other groups would need something similar. Second, the project combined clear provincial leadership with respectful attention to the members' theological and spiritual experience. The leadership wisely recognized that it was dealing with adults whose experience (gleaned through the interviews) had indispensable contributions to make to the planning process. This continued as the members of the gathering chose their pre-ferred areas of concentration for the cluster groups. Third, the leadership's commitment to a program that would have a reflective theological/spiritual style allowed participants to pause and deepen what they had learned, rather than over-powering them with more knowledge than they could assimilate; and music and poetry provided powerful alternative ways to inte-grate the material. In all the workshops, the opening prayers set the atmosphere in which the biblical and theological presenta-tions could resonate deeply and reach the whole person. The time provided for dialogue and personal reflection in each cluster group' 2.Y7 . May-ff~une 1998 Chiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating helped the participants to integrate the material both personally and communally. Fourth, the mission to spread knowledge and love of Wisdom beyond the congregation is vibrant in this community. The work-shops provided models for the sisters to keep in mind as they dis-cern how to communicate to others their own new appreciation of Wisdom. Fifth, the Daughters of Wisdom have nourished their partic-ular charism for three centuries. It is clear, compelling, and solidly grounded. Many congregations, founded in the 19th-century era of apostolic expansion, lack such clarity. Preliminary tasks for them will include reviewing their Vatican II renewal of their charism in the light, not only of the continuing experience of their members, but also of present theological, spiritual, and apos-tolic conditions. The preliminary time spent in such reformula-tion would be well spent. Finally, this small province chose an itinerant theologian in order to provide unity in presentation and spirit. This decision fit their group and may fit others. Larger congregations and those with different needs and hopes may make other choices. Planning that is attentive to the uniqueness of each group will enable the careful refashioning of theological coats so that members can breathe more freely as they move into the future. Outcomes. What came of all these efforts by one province to update itself theologically and spiritually around its charism? There seemed to be both a personal and a communal response to this question. Many spoke of their wanting to pursue Wisdom/Sophia spir-ituality more deeply in their personal prayer. One lay colleague said, "I have never in all my thirty-five years of knowing the Daughters felt so close to them and so personally enriched." One sister said it was wonderful to "see the interconnectedness between the Scriptures and the Wisdom theology as it developed in the tradition"; another said, "Sophia/Wisdom finally made sense to me." One cluster convener wanted to know what'we would do com-munally to continue the education we had begun. Some want to see more Montfortian.aspects in an ongoing study of Wisdom. One sister on holiday in the states reflected on what she had been hearing from the sisters about the province gathering and the cluster weekends: "Sisters from whom I would never expect it Review for Religious have told me of their deeply moving experiences with Wisdom/Sophia. One 82-year-old said she now prays to Sophia." Our theological coats have been stretched and refashioned with added cloth woven of threads newly spun from prayerful experience and theology and even our worldly surroundings. We have not finished. We bring our renewal in Wisdom spirituality to bear on ministry with the poorest of the poor. What differ-ence will our spiritual search and enlightenment make in terms of how and with whom we will minister? The spinning and the weav-ing and the careful alterations go on! Questions for Your Story. United States women religious have a history in this century of recognizing and responding to the need for theological updating among their members. The few remaining years of this centur~z may provide congregations with opportunities to consider whether they need to refashion their members' theological coats and therefore need some careful plan-ning that reflects their charism, ministry, and spirituality. This article has described one province's effort. As you reflect on it, you may inquire about the implications for your own con-gregation: What are the religious, spiritual, and cultural contexts within which you live today? What do you need to do to prepare yourselves to respond to them? What is your situation? What is the condition of your theological/spiritual coats? Are they need-lessly tight? Beginning to tear? Can you breathe freely? Do they restrict your apostolic effectiveness? These are the questions asked by foundresses centuries ago and by members of United States religious congregations earlier in this century. We who are pres-ent- day members find ourselves with the same questions as we look toward the dawn of a new millennium. The answers we give to the questions are important. Notes 1 Gerald and Patricia Mische, Toward a Human World Order (New York: Paulist Press, 1977), pp. 1-3. 2 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Transformation of American Sister~ (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992), documents this first "moment" in the firstchapter, "Changing Times," pp. 3-30. May-June 1998 DONALD J. GOERGEN 260 Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life We often hear about being centered and about centering prayer; we hear, too, about wholeness. Centeredness and wholeness go together. Thus we cannot talk properly about how chastity and sexuality are integrated into the entire human person without first having a sense of our center. Otherwise we are off to a false start. As a sage once said, "There's no point in going fast if you're headed in the wrong direction." We want to be sure we are headed in the right direction. Provinces and congregations are concerned about mission statements and vision statements because they give us a focus and clarity about ourselves. Centering likewise gives u~ focus and clarity. Centering is not simply something that we do for our-selves personally, but something that we do for our com-munity or congregation as well. Centering is one of the main tasks of leadership. Without it, how could we know we are l~eaded in the right direction, no matter how pro-fessionally we might be equipping ourselves for the jour-ney? And so I ask: What is the center of your community or province's life? What or who is my center? Our center? What or who are we? We have to answer that, or be aware of it, before any talk about chastity, because a healthy chastity is a properly Donald J. Goergen OP, formerly the provincial of the Midwest Province of Dominicans, presented this paper, here somewhat revised, to the Conference of Major Superiors of Men in August 1997. He teaches theology at Aquinas Institute, where he may be addressed: 3642 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious centered or focused sexuality. A sexuality lacking a proper center, or falsely centered, is a distorted sexuality. It is as simple as that-- not as easy as that, but as simple. Now, however we phrase it, given our traditions and charism, we are God-centered people, followers of Jesus, called by Jesus, men and women who have turned our lives over to the gospel. If someone says to me, "Don, do you really believe in celibacy, really see any human value in it?" my response must begin with "Do you believe in God?" For indeed how do I talk about the meaning of chastity as I understand it with someone whose cen-ter in life is altogether different from my own? If the person were to respond, "Yes, I do believe," then my next question might be, "Do you believe in the God of Abraham and Sarah, in a God who calls people forth, calls people to be who they can be and to be servants of humanity?" If they again say yes, we then have some common ground on which to discuss our call and its celibate char-acter. Otherwise we are at a disadvantage in describing what a healthy Christian chastity is all about. When we call to mind who our center is, the One on whom our mission and vision are focused, we realize that this puts us at odds with the society in which we find ourselves. Many of the struggles with sexuality have to do with false attempts to adjust our happiness to the ways or perspectives of today's post-Christian world. Some of the struggles, however, are simply human, and to those we will turn later. Here it is important to differentiate the two. Is the struggle of some member of the province a futile effort to give allegiance to two masters, to try to live out of two centers, to live a continuously divided life? Or is it simply the struggle to be more deeply human as the vulnerable creatures we are? Thus, just as there is a need for us corporately to be God-- or Christ--or Spirit-centered, so there is a need for us not to be centered in our culture or society. In it, yes; centered in it, no. Ministering to it, yes; coopted by it, no. Seeing value in it, signs of God's presence there, yes; blindly idolizing it, no. Any healthy sexuality must begin with being a properly centered sexuality, which is rarely the sexual understanding provided by our secular culture, and often not the sexual understanding provided by rep-resentatives of our church. Being centered, then, also means being countercultural, in this area as in every other area of our reli-gious lives; not going out of our way to find fault with our soci-9£1 May-ff~tne 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste L~ It does us no good to be countercuttural in one area of life alone. ety and culture, but not making them the object of our primary allegiance either. If being healthy and chaste implies a countercultural approach to our sexuality, it also implies being countercultural in all areas of our living. Too often we attempt to shore up a rationale for celibacy by dragging in the countercultural justification. But it does us no good to be countercultural in one area of life alone. This is where poverty, chastity, obedience, community, prayer, mission, and servanthood form a whole tapestry. Is our approach to our sexuality consistent with our approach to life as a whole? What good does it do to be sexually abstinent if we are addicted to work, are first-rate consumers, and enjoy almost all the comforts our society offers us? Can we truly say, then, that our center is in a spir-itual or "evangelical" way of life? The chal-lenge is not how to be both healthy and chaste, but how to be both healthy and countercultural. Does health imply adjust-ment to our sociocultural context? From where or whom do we derive our understanding of a healthy life? Could true health imply "unable to adjust to the demands of a secular world"? What does it mean to be "at home" in a society that is not "at home" with religious values? Now, I am not suggesting that Christianity and secularity are at irreconcilable odds with each other. Indeed, we search for seeds of sacrality in the soil of secularity. Yet secularity in the West does imply a neutrality toward religion that becomes an indiffer-ence to it, often even a hostility or a lack of respect--certainly towards religion as central or essential to social and human life. Secularized living neither values nor structurally supports reli-gion. It may give lip service to spirituality, but more often it favors spiritualities as marketable commodities. We ought :not be naive. And so I return to the question: What is the center, corner-stone, focus of my life and ministry? Of yours? Of your congre-gation or community or province? We must first be healthily centered and go from there. Another way of putting it is to ask: What is the ethos of your community, its atmosphere, character, sense of values? What does it structurally support? Is our way of being sexual consistent with that ethos? Is it sexuality that gets dis- Review for Religious torted, or does our sexuality simply manifest a deeper distortion in our lives: the loss of our center? To what does our congregation give witness? If we merrily go along with consumer society, defend capitalism at all costs, tolerate machismo, smugly see Western civilization as superior to others, and are sexually abstinent, then that is what we give witness to. In that context, sexual abstinence is hardly mean-ingful. One of the responsibilities of leadership is to cultivate a cli-mate, help develop an ethos, sketch out the vision, focus the mem-bership. In what sort of environment is it most likely that the men or women of the community will reach healthy maturity as chaste celibates? What threats are there to such an environment? The Credibility of the Gospel In our search for a healthy celibacy, a chaste sexuality, we must feel deeply that there is something important at stake, some value that gives our way of life meaning. We might each express that differently, but I will call this core value the gospel. I do not mean as such the four Gospels, but the gospel at the heart of the Gospels, the gospel of God that formed the center value in Jesus' own life and mission. Like Paul, we live "for the sake of the gospel" (1 Co 9:23).1 Thus a primary, urgent, felt concern in my own life is the credibility of the gospel, which is nothing other than the credi-bility of the God whom I preach. My witness helps to make it credible; it makes my life credible. This is the rationale for a healthy, culturally contextualized (even if countercultural) chastity. The gospel makes sense of my celibacy, and my celibacy must help to make sense of that gospel in our world, my world, at this period of its history. The gospel itself, of course, does not require celibacy, nor does ordained ministry in itself necessitate celibacy. But religious life does see celibacy as essential to its way of being in the world. As religious we freely choose to be celibate as one dimension of our way of living the gospel. This freely chosen celibacy for the sake of the gospel, then, cannot be taken lightly. It is central to who I am as a witness to the gospel, as a witness of the risen Lord, of the presence and power of the risen Christ and his Spirit in my life. The risen Christ and the Holy Spirit are the source of my May-June 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life celibacy, and I at least desire, even in my weakened humanity, to live what I believe. One of the most poignant questions raised by Pope Paul VI in his still unsurpassed apostolic exhortation on evangelization-- which so emphasized witness as the primary form of preaching-- was the question: Do you live what you believe? In fact he raised three questions: It is often said nowadays that the present century thirsts for authenticity. Especially in regard to young people it is said that they have a horror of the artificial or false and that they are searching above all for truth and honesty. These "signs of the times" should find us vigilant. Either tacidy or aloud--but always forcefully--we are being asked: Do you really believe what you are proclaiming? Do you live what you believe? Do you really preach what you live? The witness of life has become more than ever an essential condition for real effectiveness in preaching.' My faith in the resurrection, in the risen Jesus, my own human experiences of the risen Jesus, Jesus' self-presentation to me inviting me to follow him and my response of trust and faith, all these reconstruct me, reorient me, as a human being into being a witness to that grace which has been granted me. By that grace I trust God and God places trust in me. A witness is who I am. I desire never to betray that responsibility, any more than I would wish to betray th.e. most profound friendship given me in life. My witness includes a call to celibacy that I find in my own human experience of God as present to me in this world, Celibacy by itself does not witness to anything. But celibates are witnesses. And so the question is: To what do I give witness? If I am racist, sexist, consumerist, clericalist, arrogant, ambitious, greedy, and sexually abstinent, what I give witness to is racism, greed, male privilege, and sexual abstinence. Celibacy does not give witness, but Francis of Assisi did, and Mother Teresa did, and Cardinal Bernardin did, because the totality of their lives gave witness. Their celibacy made sense only in the context of their lives. And Francis of Assisi's celibacy did not make sense in the context of his world. By merely rational norms any generation would judge him a fool, but Francis's life made sense in the con-text of the gospel. That is the only context that makes sense of our own celibate lives. We are evangelists, not because we are some-how superhuman or something other than human, but because we are convinced that living the gospel is for us a better way to be Review for Religious human. My celibacy is a part of my own humanity and makes me more truly human. It is not necessary for being human, nor nec-essary for living a gospel-centered life, but it does make me to be the human being I am. Without a perspective such as this, there can be no healthy chastity, no freedom, no desire, only fear, only obligation. This is to say, not that living chastely and cslibately is easy, but that it is the only humane way for me to live. Becoming Human Together Beyond the sexuality promoted by the secular culture in which we find ourselves, there is another whole side: mature adult Christian sexuality understood in the context of our total human-ity, with its aspirations, its limitations, its vulnerabilities, its dis-appointments, its joys. We are vulnerable human beings through and through. In my own experience of leader-ship, I learned both how talented and how frag-ile my brothers are. Fragility is not just a matter of misplacing our center, of failing to live from within the depths of our souls, but it is also a matter of what chastity asks of us even when we are centered. It is not easy to be human. A friend of mine likes to say that we are not human beings struggling to be holy, but holy peo-ple struggling to be human. Achieving the deli-cate balance in our lives between the consoling compassionate gentleness of the gospel and its radical challenging demands is not easy, and never achieved or given once and for all. Our vision should be clear, expectations should be high, but our capacity for understanding deep. When there are failures in keeping the vow, the common good makes its demands, but so does the good of the individual human person created and loved by God. Leaders need to be able to distinguish between, on the one hand, some-one who manipulates us, exploits the fraternity or sisterhood or religious family, disregards the reputation of the community, or has been seduced by the false philosophy of our unliberated soci-ety and, on the other hand, the brother or sister who falls short, needs forgiveness, is moving toward deeper integration, and is genuinely caught up with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Here only the one without sin can cast a stone. Does the brother or sister have genuine affection for the com- Celibacy by itself does not witness to anything. May-June 1998 Goergen * Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life munity? Are we the source of his or her deepest identity? If so, then the one who is not against us is for us (Lk 9:50), and we give him or her the benefit of the doubt. Chastity is there, and growth in love and commitment to the gospel. If not, we are being used. If someone is stuck in some rationalized disregard for truth, then the one who is not with me is against me (Lk 11:23). Is the per-son genuinely "in the Spirit" or not? I would trust and help any-one grounded in the Spirit. I would help but not trust those who are grounded in their own agenda. Healthy chastity in a sexually saturated, religiously indifferent society is asking for heroism. Unfortunately, to be heroic is the only way we can go. Areas of Specific Concern. There are several areas of particular concern that have an impact on our living a chaste life. I comment on them only briefly here, but they can well be pursued further in community discus-sions. I have one hesitancy. Several years ago I spent several months in India. One thing I learned about India at that time is this: Regarding anything I might say, the opposite is equally true. Accordingly, I am mindful here that I can only raise or emphasize certain points that naturally leave many other points left unsaid. Gender and Individuality There are many reasons, feminist thinking among them, why gender receives much attention today. We have become accus-tomed to distinguishing between sex and gender, sex referring more to the biological aspects of sexual identity, and gender more to the pyschosocial and sociocultural aspects. I want to stress here, however, that individual differences are as important as differ-ences of gender, or even more so. One of the criticisms of Euro-American feminism by third-world feminists is our assumption that such a thing as "women's experience" can speak for all women. Culture, race, and class deeply affect who we are, So does our individuality. I am not speaking here of individuality individualistically understood, but of each one's unique personhood. When dealing with people, we must remember the significance of these individual differences. Men are not all alike. Gay men are not all alike. Black men are not all alike. A major fallacy in many gender studies may be to assume the insignificance of individual differences. Gender is to Review for Religious be understood not so much as two abstract categories into which we place people, but rather as people first of all, whose gender is secondary. Gender must accommodate itself to persons, rather than persons being made to conform to gender stereotypes. There is more than one way to be human, more than one way to be a man, more than one way to be a woman, more than one way to be gay or straight. The question behind gender is not what I am, but who I am. Along with this, let me include my hesitancy--simply a cau-tion- about topics like masculine spirituality, men's groups, and getting in touch with our maleness. Although there can be value in this movement, I am suspicious that it might buy into a misunderstanding of gender wherein my sexual identity becomes dependent upon group consciousness. I am very hesitant to use the word masculinity and give it precise con-tent. How are groups understanding it? With respect to the men's movement, who are the men we are talking about? What is it they have in com-mon? Maleness only? What is the underlying con-cept of masculinity operative in men's groups? Can one deviate from it? How flexible is it? Is there any stereotyping of femininity in such groups? I am not suggesting that there is no value in a men's movement, or in a gathering of males, but I am suggesting that critique is necessary if there is an underlying assumption that all men experience themselves as sexual beings in a common way. If men come together to interact around issues of "soul" and how soul or spirit manifests itself in our sexualities, that is clearly good. If coming together reinforces a sense of "us men," it perpetuates a false understanding of gender. The question behind gender is not what I am, but who I am. Homosexuality There is no question today but that homosexuality plays a significant role in discussions of celibate sexuality. To some degree this is the influence of our social context, of the gay liberation movement on both society and religion. HIV and the tragedy of AIDS also enter into the discussion. Again my comments here are necessarily brief. There is a place for homosexual or gay and lesbian people in religious life. They can be very creative, pastorally compassion-ate, and spiritually sensitive. Homosexuality is not accepted May-June 1998 socially, however, as of equal value to heterosexuality, although it is fairly well acknowledged psychologically that it is not intrinsi-cally pathological. The challenge for us, however, is not only how to screen in order to accept only healthy homosexual men or women and what our expectations of them should be as regards living a chaste life, but also how to clarify for ourselves whether all healthy homosexual or gay people are capable of living a celi-bate communal life. For our purposes here, I will make some distinctions, risky distinctions, but they can clarify discussion. (I refer here specifi-cally to communities of men.) I distinguish between gay men, homosexual men, and closeted men. Religious communities do not benefit from closeted homo-sextiality. I do not mean that men need to be public about their sexuality, a notion that seems to be an odd bane of our period of history. By closeted homosexuals I mean men who are closeted as regards their own selves. That is, they are significantly out of contact with their sexuality and thus unable to accept the degree or kind of homosexuality present in them; as a result, they are men who live in denial and fear and self-hatred. For homosexual men to live in religious communities, they need to be comfortable enough to be unafraid of their homosexuality, and they certainly need to be able to acknowledge who they are to trusted friends. The deeper issue is the distinction I make, for our purposes, between homosexual men and gay men. This is a distinction not ordinarily made in the gay community. There you are either gay or in the closet. But this has led people to make some mistakes, for the word gay is ambiguous and certainly not univocal. It can refer to gay culture or cultures, to people, to styles of life, even to an ethos, a set of beliefs, a movement~ When so .used, it is unhelp-ful for our purposes of discernment or our witness to the gospel. Although a particular "gay" person may very well be called to religious life and ministry, not everything that is gay is compati-ble with religious life. Many styles .of gay life, dimensions of gay cultures, even cofiamonly held assumptions among many gay men, all these may be quite incompatible with our call and our life. Religious life itself is a particular style of life, a particular sub-culture, grounded on certain convictions held in common. Thus I will here use the word homosexual to describe someone whose sexual orientation is predominantly homosexual, but whose deep-est source of identity is not his sexuality but his faith and its Review for Religious accompanying required way of life. A gay person's deepest iden-tity is frequently his sexual identity, or at least his sexual identity has for him a high level of significance. In other words, while it is possible for homosexual men to live and contribute immensely to religious life, the same cannot be naively said of all gay men or even all healthy gay men. If the network of significant relationships that a man feels he must main-tain for the sake of his identity and health is a gay network, then his heart and soul may lie more with the gay community than with a religious community, no matter how many gay men there may be in a religious community. The defining characteristic of a gay community is its sexuality, for a religious community its spirituality. A gay man can be deeply spiritual, and I place here no judgment on the realities of the gay worlds. I am simply saying that, whereas homosexuality is capable of integration into reli-gious life, gay life is not. Where does one's deepest commitment, heart, and soul lie? If one needs to express one's gay identity in the ways encouraged by secular gay life, so be it, but in religious life this cannot be one's defining identity. What I have said should in no way whatsoever be taken as legitimating homophobia or prejudice against homosexual people in religious life or gay and lesbian people in the society at large. Nor is it meant to disparage the legitimate struggles that people encounter as they attempt to mature sexually in religious life. This article is an effort to clarify who we are as religious commu-nities. We are not and never can be communities of gay men, no matter how many homosexual members there may be. We are and must be religious communities. Affectivity I want to underscore the importance of our affective lives. Among men in particular, this can be left undeveloped or its importance minimized. Although, as I said above, Ihave ques-tions about "the men's movement," I think it important that'men find affective support for themselves among their brethren in community and among women religious and other women too. Affective bonds not only sustain us in our lives and ministries. They also help us live the spiritual life deeply. Affective prayer is deeper than reflective prayer, and contemplative prayer even deeper than affective prayer. Affect ordinarily opens up for us deeper recesses of our being and thus allows us to live life more fully, May-June 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life beyond dull routine, addictiveness to work, and human bonding that is merely cerebral. If nothing else, our lives must be seen by others as loving, perhaps especially by prospective members. There is both a role for affection and a human need for it. The challenge is to live a balanced, integrated, wholesome life. And balance is not something achieved once and for all, but something regained daily. Life implies movement; perpetual sta-bility is death. Integration implies integrity, which is inner freedom graced by God and constant in pursuit of a worthy quest. There are individual and cultural differences in our affective lives, but the world to which we witness, the brothers and sisters to whom we are joined by profession, are asking us: Do you care? Do you feel? We need examples of affecdve maturity among us. Affective growth has a sexual component to it. Among the major reasons for pur-suing sexual maturity among us are the affective maturity that accompanies it and the increased spiritual maturity as well. Hope and Forgiveness I cannot here go into the complexities, difficulties, and vari-ations of sexual misconduct that we have had to confront in the past ten or fifteen years. I do not want anything I say here to minimize the seriousness of these issues or to lead us to excuse ourselves. Our concerns are for the good of our own members, the common good of our communities, along with our primary con-cern for the victims of abuse at the hands of community members who were occupying positions of trust. For the pastoral care of our members in crisis situations such as these and also for the future health of victims and of perpetrators as well, two things are impor-tant: hope and forgiveness. Whatever one's situation in life and whatever the condition of one's life, we cannot allow it to confine us to living without hope. At least three things can contribute to a healthy even if "non-normal" life for perpetrators, victims, and all of us: (1) personal support and clearly defined boundaries, (2) a deepening of one's spiritual life, and (3) personal involvement with available thera-peutic programs. We can all ask ourselves how woundedness in some cases gets transformed into the making of a wounded healer and how in other situations wounds end up in a cycle of wound-ing others. How are wounds "healed" even if never "cured"? Whatever the path we must take, hope is essential to recovery. This much I have learned from my own walking with perpetrators Review for Religious as well as victims: Never let anyone destroy your hope. Strangely, as I was revising this article, I saw the obituary of Viktor Frankl in the New York Times (4 September 1997). Certainly his three-year experience in a concentration camp contained every justifi-cation for giving up hope along with confirming him in the conviction that one's attitude in the face of suffering is essential to well-being. Every one of our brothers, whether a pedophile or a perpe-trator of some other abuse or one of our outstanding members, needs hope. People cannot survive much less thrive without it. All people, as brothers and sisters, need to experience forgive-ness from others in their lives if they are to move beyond various large or small crises towards healing; also, for this same healing, they may need to do some forgiving of their own. To live a whole human life, we must learn to forgive and to be forgiven. This ought not be precipitous. Perpetrators of abuse need to own their guilt and responsibility, go through cognitive restruc-turing, acknowledge their genuine need for reconciliation with victims, their community, and their God. When the way has been prepared, however, forgiveness and understanding need to be there for them if they are to have hope of being restored to their own lives. This does not predetermine how forgiveness happens. Acceptance, forgiveness, and love can be mediated, and must be, from somewhere within the perpetrators' network of relation-ships, from their Christian community. As with all of us, both perpetrators and victims must eventually feel God's presence in their struggle to remake their lives. Health is never a heart of stone. Even though victims cannot take risks and need to protect their increased vulnerability, the goal is not to be limited to resigned anger. It lies in learning a painful compassion. Of course, much more needs to be said here about our mem-bers who have violated the sacred trust placed in them. There has to be an owning of responsibility on their part; they have to have a genuine desire to reform their lives; there must be coop-eration with the congregation or province and its leadership. One thing all of us can learn from these crises is how important for our communities hope and forgiveness are When it comes to the vul-nerabilities in our lives, especially vulnerabilities in our sexual-ity, and most especially when these vulnerabilities become public. We need to learn forgiveness, to forgive and be forgiven, and to May-ffune 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life have hope. These two are at the heart of the Christian gospel to which we have given our lives. They are also pertinent to a healthy attitude toward sexuality. After formulating these reflections of my own, I found Sogyal Rinpoche's Tibetan Book of Living and Dying saying the same thing: "I would like to single out two points in giving spiritual help to the dying: giving hope, and finding for-giveness." 3 Common Fraternal Life Summ.ing up, I must say that the best way to promote a healthy sexuality and chastity among us is to promote healthy community life. The fraternity, sisterhood, or community itself is a significant formative context for us.4 How deep is the bond that unites us? Can the communal context of our living both chal-lenge us and enrich us? Does it come from that deeper spiritual desire, that deep spring, from which our lives and ministries ought to flow? Perhaps common life has suffered assault more than any-thing else during the past twenty-five years; the fraternal charac-ter of that common life has perhaps been too long neglected. If our community is not a deeply spiritual and humanly healthy con-text for the workings of the Holy Spirit, individuals find it a lonely struggle to live the heroic lives we are called upon to live, lives of selflessness in a society that rationalizes greed, arrogance, and exploitive forms of power for which obedience, poverty, and chastity are the only antidotes. And so, what do I ask of present-day leadership in this quest called religious life? --Call us to center ourselves; help us to remember who we truly are; challenge us to be our. best selves. Few things in life, very few things, are truly important. Help us to remember that. --Create a climate, an ethos, for healthy living, for open discussion, but also for the freedom to be spiritual and holy men and women and to give religious witness as well. --Respect and trust the brothers and sisters unless someone clearly manifests that such trust is unde-served. --Trust yourself, seek advice, and be human. --Keep an inner balance, keep your eye on extremes and help us to avoid them. Review for Religious --Be aware that there is a rhythm in our personal lives for all of us, like inhaling and exhaling, a time to plant and a time to reap. Do not supervise our personal growth. --Keep our focus on the charism, and keep our expec-tations clear. --Affirm the importance of sexuality in our lives, but help us to put it in perspective. It is not the be-all and end-all of life. --Call us to lives of integrity, but respect our wound-edness and be aware of how vulnerable we are. Help us to be caring, loving men and women. Teach us to pray. --Have a sense of humor. Life is a way of the cross, but help us to look at that cross from the vantage point of the resurrection. Give us hope. I close with some poetic reflections from a Protestant Brazilian liberation writer, Rubem Alves: What is hope? It is a presentiment that imagination is more real and reality less real than it looks. It is the hunch that the overwhelming brutality of facts that oppress and repress is not the last word. It is a suspicion that reality is more complex than realism wants us to believe and that the frontiers of the possible are not determined by the limits of the actual and that in a miraculous and unexpected way life is preparing the creative events which will open the way to freedom and resurrection. The two, suffering and hope, live from each other. Suffering without hope produces resentment and despair, hope without suffering creates illusions, naivet~, and drunkenness. Let us plant dates even though those who plant them will never eat them. We must live by the love of what we will never see. This is the secret discipline. It is a refusal to let the creative act be dissolved in immediate sense experience. It is a stubborn commitment to the future of our grandchildren. 273 --- May-June 1998 Goergen * Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life Such disciplined love is what has given the prophets, revolutionaries, and saints the courage to die for the future they envisaged. They make their own bodies the seed of their highest hope.5 Notes l On this point see letter 20, "Religious Life and the Gospel," in my Letters to My Brothers and Sisters (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1996), pp. 137-142. Available through Dominican Central Province Office; 1909 South Ashland Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60608. 2 Evangelii nuntiandi, §76. 3 The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1992), p. 212. A highly recommended spiritual book. 4 See letter 11, "On Community Life," pp. 75-79, and letter 17, "The Continuing Nature of Formation," pp. 115-121, in my Letters to My Brothers and Sisters. s Rubem A. Alves, Hijos del Magana (Salamanca: Ediciones Sigueme, 1976). The above lines have been gathered together from Alves's reflec-tions on pages 219-231. Morning Ear "Morning after morning, he opens my ear." --Isaiah I want to keep my ear wide open like a door foldingout to the sun, ready to receive all that the ball of fire spills across the threshold. I want the Word to trickle through the long canal to the heart and find a place to stretch out in a dream, then expand through my senses to some form in reality. I want it to grow sturdy like a tree that dances in every emotion of the wind, hearing music even when there is only silence. Patricia G. Rourke IHM Review for Religious MARTIN PABLE Skills Needed for Celibacy ~chonaset cIr aotfefde rc hisa sntoitty a, nboirb dlioc aIl e oxrp tlohreeo iltosg sipciarli truaatli oonr amley sf-or tical significance. Such reflections have in recent decades been put forth in masterful fashion by other writers. My purpose is different. Assuming that readers of this journal already have an understanding and appreciation of the value of religious chastity, I focus on this question: What skills ar.e required in order to live out this commitment in a faithful and life-giving manner? I was prompted toward offering an answer to this question by reading a couple of years ago Father Raymond Carey's "Psychosexuality and the Development of Celibacy Skills." As many readers may know, Carey favors a strongly behavioral approach to the assessment of candidates' fitness for priesthood or religious life. Instead of relying on someone's verbalizations about the value of celibacy (which may be impressively lofty and elo-quent without being grounded in lived experience) or even on psychological testing, Carey bases his assessment on the person's life history. The underlying principle is that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. In assessing people's capacity to live the vow of chastity, the key question would be: Is the can-didate for religious life developing the skills needed for celibate living? Martin Pable OFMCap has a doctorate in pastoral counseling, has taught courses in it, and has done extensive counseling. Besides giving retreats and workshops, he directs a wellness program for his order and does evangelization ministry. His address is House of Peace Community Center; P.O. Box 05656; M!lwaukee, Wisconsin 53205. 275 . May-3~une 1998 Pable * Skills Needed for Celibacy Carey went on to name--very briefly--twenty-seven such skills. I found his list a bit overwhelming, but I selected a few of the skills and worked out a retreat conference for religious who were already in final vows. The retreatants later encouraged me to put my talk into written form. That is the genesis of this arti-cle. I will follow Carey's distinction between intrapersonal skills (needed to manage internal conscious states) and interpersonal skills (for dealing with other persons), but sometimes my naming of the skills will differ from his. Intrapersonal Skills Self-knowledge Dr. William Menninger once noted that the first meaning of intimacy is "that which constitutes one's own inner self." This . implies, he said, that we must become intimate with ourselves-- know ourselves--before we can hope to be intimate with others. "Know thyself" is a well-known axiom of the ancients. St. Teresa of Avila used to say, "Almost all problems in the spiritual life stem from lack of self-knowledge." Why is self-knowledge so founda-tional? Because it is the precondition for freedom of choice. If I know when I am feeling sad or inadequate or confident or resent-ful or contented or discouraged, I will have important data for making better decisions; whereas, if I am unaware of these inter-nal states, I will likely fall or be driven into choices without really intending them. Then come the regrets: "Why in the world did I do that?" The same dynamics apply to my awareness--or lack of it--of long-standing patterns of people-pleasing or compulsive activity or competitiveness or demanding my own way. Without self-knowledge, change and conversion are not possible. Such self-knowledge is especially crucial in matters of chastity. I need to know what is driving me: my erotic feelings and desires? my tendency to seek companionship to feed my vanity or soothe my bruised ego? my need to feel important to at least one person so as to compensate for my sense of failure in my ministry? None of these necessarily precludes honest celibate living, but I need to be aware of them if I am to manage them. The skill here consists in the ability to tune in to and correctly identify these internal feelings and tendencies. How do we grow in self-knowledge? The basic tool is inter-nal reflection, such as the process described by Father George Review for Religious Aschenbrenner in his famous article "Consciousness Examen" (Review for Religious 31, no. 1 [January-February 1972]). Instruments such as the Myers-Briggs or the enneagram can be helpful in coming to know ourselves. So can the regular practice of journaling and the time-tested practice of spiritual direction. Enjoyment of One's Own Company We have all seen the opposite of this: people who seemingly cannot stand to be alone. This does not come naturally for those who are extroverts. Still, most extroverts do develop the capacity for solitude as they grow older; it is one of the tasks of midlife. Also, we find religious who always have to be busy doing something; they seem unable to just be still or engage in quiet reflection. One has to wonder: What are they avoiding or running away from? Perhaps it is some inner voice that keeps chiding, "You will never be good enough, will never measure up." In any case, celibates need to develop the ability to be alone, to enjoy their own company. This is simply a demand of reality. Having chosen not to marry, we can-not expect that someone will always be there for us. Even in the best of religious communities, there will be times when no one is around. It is the same in ministry, even in these days of collaboration. Much of our time may be spent alone--in our office, our cubicle, our car. The skill lies in the ability to accept that reality and deal with it creatively. Some religious may need therapy to help them understand and manage those inner voices and restless feelings that drive them to avoid solitude. But ordinarily the skill is acquired with time and practice. We begin to actually enjoy quiet time for read-ing, walking, listening to good music. To do that well, though, perhaps most of us will lneed a reasonably comfortable room or office and some degree of pleasant surroundings. It would be well to include here what Carey calls "skills to mon-itor fantasy." This would obviously exclude behavior such as indulging in sexually stimulating reading or viewing, but it would also exclude allowing oneself to fantasize about "what might have been" (or still could be) in terms of romantic/sexual relationships. It is certainly appropriate to do the necessary grieving over such renunciations, but not to keep revisiting them in one's imagination. Celibates need to develop the ability to be alone, to enjoy their own company. '277 May-June 1998 Pable * Skill~ Needed for Celibacy~ One of the instructive stories from the life of St. Francis of Assisi is related by St. Bonaventure. One night, when Francis was severely tempted by lust, he ran out into the snow and formed several snow figures. Then he said to himself, "Look, Francis, the larger one there is your wife and the others are your chil-dren. Now hurry up and find clothes and food for them--they are cold and hungry. But, if all the trouble it takes to look after them is too much for you, then keep your services for God alone." The story is a stark reminder of how chastity sometimes requires a hard dose of "reality therapy" to iolt us out of our dreamy fan-tasies. The "greener grass" on the other side can turn into a cold night and a hungry family. ~ Being grounded in the love of God, I recognize that this is not so much a skill as an attitude or conviction. But it needs to be acquired and strengthened through behavior. Initially, probably most of us accepted celibacy as part of the "package deal" of reli-gious life, or celibacy made sense because it gave us greater free-dom to be of service. But over the long haul that will not be enough to hold us in our commitment to chastity. Something more profound, more soul-inspiring is needed. Stephen Rossetti has called it "the celibacy experience" (Review for Religious 41, no. 5 [September-October 1982]). Rossetti quotes psychologist Ignace Lepp as saying that the chastity of those consecrated to Christ must be "counterbalanced by a genuinely mystical life." There must be, then, a necessary connection between celibacy and mysticism. Rossetti uses Karl Rahner's definition of mysticism as "a genuine though mediated experience of encounter and communication with the personal God." It is this personal experience of being held in the uncondi-tional embrace of God's love that protects religious chastity. It is not something that happens once and for all, but is a chain of real encounters that renew and strengthen the individual's surrender to God. Rossetti says: "It is this experience and the resulting vision which grounds the celibate's apostolate. The celibacy experience, which eventually grows into a total response to the radical question 'Do you love me?' provides the charter and gives life to his or her ministry. Without this growing intimacy with Christ, the celibate's ministry is without an anchor and will drift with every theological and psychological breeze that comes along" (p. 676). The skill required here, it seems to me, is to make oneself available to this experience and to foster it. In the concrete, this Review for Religious means regular, personal prayer. If celibacy is grounded in my per-sonal relationship with the living God embracing me with uncon-ditional love, that relationship can grow and be sustained only by communication, by opening myself to that Mystery, by allow-ing the risen Christ to address me as "friend." Psychotherapist A.W. Richard Sipe puts it very clearly: "Prayer is indispensable and fundamental for the celibate life, for there is no other effective way to confront God-Self-Other within the core of celibate reality. ¯ . All other relationships and friendships are grounded in this core or, in the end, they will fail from the point of view of celibacy or celibate love. In studying religious celibacy for thirty-five years, I have never found one exception to this fundamental rule: prayer is necessary to maintain the celibate process." Skill to Prize One's Sexuality Prizing one's sexuality involves at least two elements: first, appreciating one's sexuality as a positive life energy. In my recent book The Quest for the Male Soul, I note that one of the Hebrew words for "man" in the Bible is zakar, which literally refers to the male phallus. The rite of circumcision had deep spiritual sig-nificance for the Hebrew male: it was a sign of his covenant with God as well as of his ethnic identity. Therefore, every time he looked at or used his phallus he was reminded: "I am a Hebrew. I belong to God's chosen people. I am dedicated to God.'.' What a contrast with our own socialization into sexuality. There is no sacred ritual to help us to prize our sexuality. The culture around us tends to idolize it, while our religious training tends to make it an object of shame. It is crucial that celibates come to value their sexual energy as a positive gift of God that needs to be channeled toward nongenital forms of love and cre-ativity. Second, this skill involves coming to a peaceful sense of own-ership of one's sexual orientation¯ Thankfully, as the wider soci-ety is becoming more open about homosexuality, religious life is likewise becoming more open. It is now widely acknowledged that there are homosexual and bisexual brothers and sisters in our communities who are spiritually deep, ministerially effective, and faithfully celibate, just as there are heterosexual religious who embody these same qualities¯ We salute them all. Hopefully, we are growing to the point where we can say: (1) We will not tolerate or cover up deliberate violations of celibate chastity; (2) we will279 . ~Vlay-June 1998 Pable ¯ Skil~ Needed for Celiba not tolerate any discrimination against any brother or sister because of his or her sexual orientation; (3) we will not demand perfection in matters of chastity--only that each of us try to grow, even by our mistakes and sins, toward faithful and loving celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of God. Interpersonal Skills Most celibate religious eventually learn to control their gen-ital sexual drive--through common sense ("monitoring fantasy"), self-discipline, prayer, and the grace of God. What is often more difficult, however, is to deal with longings for emotional inti-macy: the experience of closeness, sharing, and exchange of affec-tion with at least one other person as a kind of healing for the sense of loneliness. Celibates know they are called to love the people entrusted to them, though this is often a one-way love with little reciprocity. Moreover, celibates can and do have good friendships marked by true mutuality. But the vow of chastity does require them to renounce the desire for "that one special

Issue 51.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1992. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048. Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the "Canonical Counsel" department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ~,¥ashington, D.C. 20017. I}OSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Se;in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH / APRIL1992 ¯ VOLUMES1 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 166 182 191 2O6 217 229 236 ministry and ministries The Spiritual Exercises as a Foundation for Educational Ministry Walter J. Burghardt SJ reflects on the vision and values given to educational ministry when it is permeated by the spirituality of Ignatius Loyola's Spiritual Exercises. Going the Distance, Sustaining the Gift Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some concrete ways that people can joyfully exercise their ministry over the long haul. Newman's Living the Oratory Charism Halbert G. Weidner CO explains the Oratory foundation of Philip Neri in order to highlight values significant to John Henry Newman's life. theology and spirituality The Resurrection Kernel Dennis Billy CSSR outlines the basic principle of the doctrine of the resurrection in order to show its influence in our way of living. The Fragile Connection between Prayer and Suffering Matthias Neuman OSB speaks from his own experience of how human suffering affects our prayer. To Choose Jesus for My Heaven Donald Macdonald SMM finds Julian of Norwich's insights into the maternal love of Jesus expressed in the Blessed Sacrament. religious life and renewal Seeing in the Dark Janet Ruffing RSM finds light in John of the Cross's description of the Dark Night for understanding the current turmoil in reli-gious life. 162 Review for Religious 249 260 267 Memories of the Future Thomas McKenna CM shows how eschatology as a style of thinking provides understanding for the renewal efforts in reli-gious life. Integrating Postmodernity and Tradition Reid Perkins OP encourages the greater use of narratives in reli-gious life to connect us to the tradition and at the same time to help us overcome the obliviousness of postmodern life. Religious-Life Issues in a Time of Transition John A. Grindel CM and Sean Peters CSJ summarize the results of various studies of U.S. religious life funded by the Lilly Endowment and point to issues still to be dealt with. living religiously 276 Cultivating Uselessness Rose Hoover RC proposes that in the very experience of useless-ness and foolishness lies the gift of religious life to a pragmatic society. 282 Therapy for Religious: The Troublesome Triangle Joyce Harris OSC offers some suggestions for a collaborative rela-tionship among therapist, the individual religious, and the com-munity and its representative. 289 294 Prenovitiate: Theory and Practice Anthony Steel SSG believes a prenovitiate program can help meet the challenges of contemporary cultural attitudes toward religious life and outlines the plan for his community. report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1991 Kenneth Davis OFM Conv reviews the various events and writ-ings in the Catholic Hispanic experience. departments 164 Prisms 303 Canonical Counseh Hermits and Virgins 309 Book Reviews March-April 1992 163 prisms Teilhard de Chardin in The Divine Milieu observes that the larger half of our lives is made up of what happens to us. His observation comes home to us each year as we celebrate the great high holy days of Christianity-- Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday. Paradoxically Jesus accomplishes the work of redemption, his life's purpose, in what happens to him in his suffering, death, and resurrection. We enter into this paradox by our celebration of these days. We cannot change history, we cannot undo what has happened. Our celebration allows us in our own time to enter into what happened to Jesus and to be with him, to stand alongside, to feel com-passion- as helplessly as we listen to someone tell of being tortured by a totalitarian regime or as we sit at the bedside of a dying loved one. No activity of ours changes the event; compassionate presence is the difficult but precious gift we can give. Of course it is also our privilege to share in some-one's joy and happiness, as we do when we celebrate the res-urrection victory of Jesus. Despite the fact that so many of us are spectator-sports people, whether in the stadium or in front of the TV set, we are not comfortable being spectators of an evil we can-not eliminate and sometimes even of a happiness which lit-tle touches our lives. We may find other people's parties empty of fun for ourselves, and we may dread visiting a neighbor in the hospital.We would rather not drive through derelict inner-city neighborhoods, we would brush past the homeless person sleeping over heating grates in our down-towns, or we would switch TV channels if the images of starving Sudanese children with distended stomachs are too graphic. The problems seem too large for our efforts to make a difference. Our activity and our emotions seem 164 Review for Religious frozen. Even though we are members of the Body of Christ, we often choose not to see and not to hear. When hostages return exuberantly to waiting families, when a comatose girl revives to the joy of her parents, when government agencies extend unemployment benefits for those hurting in a reces-sion economy, how often do we feel a thrill and utter a prayer of thanks to God? Too often we keep ourselves emotionally distant even from the joys of others around us, probably because they just "happen" and leave us personally unaffected. St. Paul could state, by analogy with our human bodies, that if one member suffers all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy. The Easter events challenge us always in what we do and in what happens to us. If God is truly the God of our life, then we find the opportunity of meeting God both in what we set out to do and in what happens to us. Jesus' crucifixion confronts the activist in each of us to question our judgment about our most valued "work." All of our dyings become not the entropy of exhaustive waste, but graced moments of freedom to embrace another givenness of life from our God of life. When St. Paul challenged death--"Where is your sting?"--he did not close his eyes to the evils and losses which all the forms of dying represent. He trumpeted the Easter message that the Christ-redemption event changes not only our attitude but also our ability to value the whole of our life--its successes and accomplishments, its apparent waste matter of sin and failure. As Gospel models, Mary Magdalene (who may have confused sex and love) and Peter (who has grabbed for success and lied for survival) are the first among the evangelizers of this new creation event. Pope John Paul's appeal for a new evangelization takes form in us by our renewed attempt to integrate the active and passive aspects of our daily life. By living faith-lives as "other Christs" we make a dif-ference in what we do and in what we suffer. The call to a new evan-gelization invites us to explore further the struggles of justice and poverty and human living both at our doorstep and in our larger world. Making a difference often seems like planting seeds and hav-ing to wait for things to happen. Easter faith stirs us up in hope, moves us out in action, and integrates us in a compassionate patience. This Easter may the risen Lord embrace us anew with the grace of his passion for life. David L. Fleming sJ March-April 1992 165 WALTER J. BURGHARDT The Spiritual Exercises as a Foundation for Educational Ministry ministry and ministries To speak of basing an educational ministry on the Spiritual Exercises is something of a paradox, an apparent contra-diction. Two things simply do not seem to fit. Are not the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola an experience of the spirit, a thirty-day or eight-day retreat centered on the movement of the Christian soul to heaven, conducted in solitude, far from hustle and bustle, and preferably in silence? And is not a university or college a citadel of the intellect, where the stress is on knowledge, on books, where minds meet in constant conflict, where ideas clash, where noise is in the air, where silence is reserved for a corner of the library? I am not saying that the Spiritual Exercises and the groves of academe are interchangeable terms, that a col-lege or university is a retreat experience, that the class-room is a chapel, that learning is worship. My thesis is that the Spiritual Exercises can be, indeed should be, an exciting foundation for education Jesuit-style. More specif-ically, I see the Spiritual Exercises as a process of conver-sion which in an educational institution aims at altering in students, faculty, and staff (1) their world of learning, the Walter J. Burghardt SJ is director of the Woodstock Theo-logical Center Project Preaching the ffust Word. This article retains the flavor of its original oral presentation made at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska, in April 1991. Father Burghardt's address is Manresa-on-Severn; P.O. Box 9; Annapolis, Maryland 21404. 166 Review for Religious life of the mind; (2) their world of loving, their human and reli-gious imagination and affection; (3) their world of living, the life of social realities. Let me explain what I mean in each of these three cases. First, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of learn-ing, that is, the life of your mind. You see, basic to the life of the mind, at the root of a university's existence, is a momentous mono-syllable: Why? Why study art and the arts, physical science or political science, law or business or medicine? Now Ignatius does not ask that question in those terms. But "spiritual exercises" he defines as "every way of preparing and disposing" ourselves to remove "all disordered attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the way we direct our lives.''1 And there definitely are disordered approaches to the life of the mind, strange reasons why some go to college or university or professional school. I am not thinking of the more superficial reasons--college as a four-year Hammer dance2 interrupted by class. I am thinking of an approach to business education guided by a powerful principle: what makes the world go round is economics, and what makes the economy work is greed, the almighty dollar. I am thinking of gifted music and drama students whose aim is fame, the lust for applause, even the TV laugh machine. I am thinking of political-science students whose primary purpose is political power, the thrill in manipulating other men and women. A heart-rending example in this area is Lee Atwater, the manager of George Bush's 1988 presidential campaign who almost single-handedly turned the tide against Dukakis. Not long before his death at forty from a brain tumor on 29 March, this gifted man~ with an incredible instinct for the jugular made this poignant confession: The '80s were about acquiring--acquiring wealth, power, prestige. I know, I acquired more wealth, power and pres-tige than most. But you can acquire all you want and still feel empty. It took a deadly illness to put me eye to eye with that truth, but it is a truth that the country, caught up in its ruthless ambitions and moral decay, can learn on my dime.3 Not that money, fame, power are immoral in themselves; they are not. Without money a university would have little to offer to anyone. Fame makes it easier for the deprived to know you, to beg for the crumbs that fall from your table. Political power makes March-April 1992 167 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry possible not only a Persian Gulf war but legislated housing for the poor. Ignatius forces on the retreatant that insistent mono-syllable: Why? Even more radically, the Spiritual Exercises can keep you from segregating learning into a pigeonhole of its own, divorced from the thrust of the spirit towards God. I do not mean that all of learning becomes a religious enterprise. Vatican II made that quite clear. With Vatican I, it distinguished "'two orders of knowl-edge' which are distinct," declared that "the Church does not indeed forbid that 'when the human arts and sciences are practiced they use their own principles and their proper method, each in its own domain.'" In consequence, the council "affirms the legiti-mate autonomy of human culture and especially of the sciences.''4 My point is, the life of the mind is perilously impoverished if knowledge does not lead to wonder. Not sheer questioning: I wonder if Israel should continue populating the West Bank. In the grasp of wonder I marvel: I am surprised, amazed, delighted, enraptured. It is MaW pregnant by God's Spirit: "My spirit finds delight in God my Savior" (Lk 1:47). It is Magdalen about to touch her risen Jesus: "Master!" (Jn 20:16). It is doubting Thomas discovering his God in the wounds of Jesus. It is Michelangelo striking his sculptured Moses: "Speak!" It is Alexander Fleming fascinated by the very first antibiotic, America thrilling to the first footsteps on the moon. It is Mother Teresa cradling a naked retarded child in the rubble of West Beirut, a crippled old man in the excrement of Calcutta. It is the wonder of a first kiss. Such, sooner or later, should be your reaction to the life of learning, such the wonder that should permeate the life of your mind. Not a new methodology for biology or psychology; simply awe in the presence of a fascinating four-letter reality: life. The multifaceted, myriad miracle of life. Amazement at what breadths and depths there are to being alive--from the architectural artistry of the ant and the grace of a loping panther, through the blind-ing speed of a white marlin and the majestic flight of the bald eagle, to the beating heart of a unique fetus, the inspired imagery of Shakespeare, the fantastic forty-eight measures of Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker," the transforming insight of Einstein. With such wonder you may hope to touch the pinnacle of knowledge. For, as philosopher Jacques Maritain discovered, the height of human knowing is not conceptual; it is experiential. Man or woman feels God. Yes, feels" God. 168 Review for Religious Am I ignoring Ignatius? Have I been distracted from his Spiritual Exercises? Quite the contrary. The Spiritual Exercises are an adventure in experience, in wonder. With all the power of your mental faculties, you enter the kingdom of contemplation--what contemplative William McNamara called % long loving look at the real." The real: all there is--the things of God, the people of God, God's very self. And the high purpose of all this? To be struck, surprised, stunned by the wonder of it all--from the ecstasy of Eden unspoiled, through sin's rape of the earth and earth's dwellers, to the unique love of God-in-our-flesh pinned to a cross, and our rebirth in his rising from the rock. The net effect? Ignatius's final contemplation, the acme of the Exercises: Learning to Love Like God. Here you touch the heart of Ignatius, his awareness of the ceaseless presence of Christ to our earth--now. "Consider," he counsels, "how [Christ] labors for me in all creatures.''s Not a vague, ultrapious generality. Christ behaves like a worker, a laborer, in each and every creature of his creation. How is it that the Rockies still rise in breathtaking splendor, Venus shines brighter than any star, and oil gushes from the fields of Nebraska? Because a risen Christ gives them being. Not once for all; continuously, day after day. How is it that forsythia can herald the approach of spring, corn turn into hot buttered popcorn for your theater, giant red-woods stalk the California sky? Because an imaginative Christ gives them life. How is it that your Irish setter can smell the game beyond your ken, gulls scavenge your ocean, the shad ascend the waters? Because a sensitive Christ gives them senses. How is it that you, this wondrous wedding of molecules and spirit, can shape an idea or send a skyscraper soaring, unveil mystery in a microscope or telescope, join with another--man or woman or God--in deathless oneness? Because Christ labors in you to give you intelligence and love--intelligence that mimics the mind of God, love that stems from a cross on the outskirts of Jerusalem. A thing of beauty and a joy for ever, this life of the mind. But only if the arts and sciences, if professions like law and medicine and business, that legitimately engross you open you to the still richer reality that surrounds you, invades you, transcends you, gives fresh life to the mind you treasure so rightly, the mind you The life of the mind is perilously impoverished if knowledge does not lead to wonder. March-April 1992 169 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry accept so lightly. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises are not the only "way to go." But for openers in two senses--a beginning and an opening--as a basis, a foundation, for the life of the mind, the Spiritual Exercises are an experience difficult to exceed. Second, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of loving, that is, your human and religious imagination and affec-tion. Basic to this affirmation is a realization: The life of the human spirit is not circumscribed by reason, by your ability to grasp ideas, to draw conclusions from facts and premises. If your intellectual existence is simply a model of Cartesian clarity, you are limping along on one leg. What is the lamentable lacuna? Imagination. What is this strange creature we call imagination?6 To begin with, what is imagination not? It is not the same thing as fantasy. Fantasy has come to mean the grotesque, the bizarre. That is fan-tastic which is unreal, irrational, wild, unrestrained. We speak of "pure fantasy": It has no connection with reality. It is imagination run wild, on the loose, unbridled, uncontained.7 What is it, then? Imagination is the capacity we have "to make the material an image of the immaterial or spiritual.''8 It is a cre-ative power. You find it in Rembrandt's self-portraits, in Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, in the odor of a new rose or the flavor of an old wine. You find it in dramatists like Aeschylus and Shakespeare, in poets from Sappho to Gerard Manley Hopkins, in storytellers like C.S. Lewis and Stephen King. Now, when I say "capacity," I do not mean a "faculty" like intellect or will. I mean rather a posture of my whole person towards my experience.9 It is a way of seeing. It is, as with Castaneda, looking for the holes in the world or listening to the space between sounds. It is a breaking through the obvious, the surface, the superficial, to the reality beneath and beyond. It is the world of wonder and intuition, of amazement and delight, of fes-tivity and play. How does imagination come to expression? Let me focus on specifically religious imagination. I sketch five ways. 1. A vision. I mean "the emergence either in dreams, trance, or ecstasy, of a pattern of images, words, or dreamlike dramas which are experienced then, and upon later reflection, as having revelatory significance." 10 Examples? Isaiah's vision of the Lord in the temple (Is 6); Moses and Elijah appearing to Jesus and the disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration (Mt 17:1-9); Joan of Arc's "voices"; St. Margaret Mary's vision of the Sacred Heart. 170 Review for Religious 2. Ritual. The form of ritual is action--public, dramatic, pat-terned. A group enacts the presence of the sacred and partici-pates in that presence, usually through some combination of dance, chant, sacrifice, or sacrament.11 3. Story. I mean a narrative, a constellation of images, that recounts incidents or events. As Sallie TeSelle put it, "We all love a good story because of the basic nar-rative quality of human experience: in a sense any story is about ourselves, and a good story is good precisely because somehow it rings true to human life . We recognize our pilgrimage from here to there in a good story.''12 For the religious imagina-tion, three types of stories are particularly impor-tant: parable, allegory, and myth; the parables of Jesus, Lewis's "Chronicles of Narnia," and the Creation myth.13 4. The fine arts. I mean painting and poetry, sculpture and architecture, music, dancing, and dra-matic art. I mean da Vinci and John Donne, the "PietY" and Chartres, Beethoven's "Missa Solemnis," David whirling and skipping before the Ark of the Covenant, the mystery dramas of the Middle Ages. I mean films. 5. Symbol. What symbol means is not easy to say, for even within theology it does not have a univocal sense. Let me define it, with Avery Dulles, as "an externally perceived sign that works mysteriously on the human consciousness so as to suggest more than it can clearly describe or define." 14 Not every sign is a sym-bol. A mere indicator ("This way to the art museum") is not a symbol. "The symbol is a sign pregnant with a depth of meaning which is evoked rather than explicitly stated.''is It might be an artifact, a person, an event, words, a story--parable, allegory, myth. The importance of symbols, of imagination, in a university? I make three points. First, imagination is not at odds with knowl-edge; imagination is a form of cognition. In Whitehead's words, "Imagination is not to be divorced from the facts; it is a way of illuminating the facts.''16 True, it is not a process of reasoning; it is not abstract thought, conceptual analysis, rational demonstra-tion, syllogistic proof. Notre Dame of Paris is not a thesis in the-ology; Lewis's famous trilogy does not demonstrate the origin of evil; Hopkins is not analyzing God's image in us when he sings Imagination is not at odds with knowledge; imagination is a form of cognition. Marcb-April 1992 171 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry that "Christ plays in ten thousand places, / Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his / To the Father through the features of men's faces.''17 And still, imaging and imagining is a work of our intellectual nature; through it our spirit reaches the true, the beautiful, and the good. Second, imagination does not so much teach as evoke; it calls something forth from you. And so it is often ambiguous; the image can be understood in different ways. Do you remember the reporters who asked Martha Graham, "Miss Graham, what does your dance mean?" She replied: "Darlings, if I could tell you, I would not have danced it!" Something is lost when we move from imagining to thinking, from art to conceptual clarity. Not that imagination is arbitrary, that "Swan Lake" or the Infancy Narrative or "Hamlet" or the Transfiguration is whatever anyone wants to make of it, my gut feeling. Hostile to a valid imagina-tion is "the cult of imagination for itself alone; vision, phantasy, ecstasy for their own sakes; creativity, spontaneity on their own, without roots, without tradition, without discipline.''1~ Amos Wilder was right: "Inebriation is no substitute for paideia.''19 And still it is true, the image is more open-ended than the con-cept, less confining, less imprisoning. The image evokes our own imagining. Third, religion itself is a system of symbols. As sociologist Andrew Greeley saw, "religion was symbol and story long before it became theology and philosophy and., the poetry of religion was not inferior to its prose but rather anterior to it and, in terms of the whole human person, in some ways superior to it.''2° Biblical revelation is highly symbolic. Skim the Hebrew Scriptures: a burning bush, the miracles of the Exodus, the theo-phanies of Sinai, the "still small voice" heard by Elijah, the visions of the prophets and seers. Scan the New Testament: the circum-stances surrounding Jesus' conception and birth, the descent of the Spirit in the form of a dove, the transfiguration, Calvary, the res-urrection. Take key themes like the kingdom of God, its expres-sion in Jesus' proverbial sayings, in the Lord's Prayer, in the Gospel parables. The kingdom is not a clear concept with a uni-vocal significance. It is a symbol that "can represent or evoke a whole range or series of conceptions or ideas.''21 Turn from Scripture to the Catholic-Protestant problematic. Greeley's research persuades him that "the fundamental differ-ences between Catholicism and Protestantism are not doctrinal or 172 Review for Religious ethical" but "differing sets of symbols.''22 Take the central symbol: God.23 The classical literature of the Catholic tradition assumes a God who is present in the world, disclosing Himself in and through creation. The world and all its events, objects, and people tend to be somewhat like God. The Protestant classics, on the other hand, assume a God who is radically absent from the world and who discloses Herself only on rare occasions (especially in Jesus Christ and Him cruci-fied). The world and all its events, objects, and people tend to be radically different from God.24 Even more concretely, Greeley insists, their different images of God account for different religious behavior between Catholics and Protestants. In the Protestant imagination God is perceived as distant (father, judge, king, master); in the Catholic imagination God is perceived as present (mother, lover, friend, spouse).2s Another crucial example: two approaches to human society shaped by different imaginative pictures. The Catholic tends to see society as a "sacrament" of God, a set of ordered relationships, governed by both justice and love, that reveal, however imperfectly, the presence of God. Society is "natural" and "good," therefore, for humans and their natural response to God is social. The Protestant, on the other hand, tends to see human society as "God-for-saken" and therefore unnatural and oppressive. The indi-vidual stands over against society and not integrated into it. The human becomes fully human only when he is able to break away from social oppression and relate to the absent God as a completely free individual.26 A final example from Greeley's sociological research: The image that most sharply distinguishes the Catholic tradition from other Christian traditions is Mary the mother of Jesus. No one else has Madonna statues in church. MaW is essen-tial to Catholicism, not perhaps on the level of doctrine but surely on the level of imagination, because she more than any other image blatantly confirms the sacramental instinct: the whole of creation and all its processes, especially its lifegiving and life-nurturing processes, reveal the lurking and passionate love of God.27 Once again, have I been distracted from Ignatius and his Spiritual Exercises? Not really. The Exercises, for all their appeal to the Christian intelligence, are not a head trip. They are first and foremost an experience. An experience of Catholic symbols: Adam and Eve and Eden, angels and Satan, hellfire, a virgin and a crib, March-April 1992 173 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry The events of Jesus" earthly existence must be seen as a 'today." Egypt and Jerusalem, the transfiguration, bread and wine, blood and water from the side of Christ, nail marks in risen hands, an ascension into heaven. But the experience is not cold reason. Take the experience of sin's devastating impact on angels and humans, sin's ravishing of God's good earth. When you go through the Spiritual Exercises, you do not simply define sin, recall a traditional definition: any thought, word, or action against God's law. Your senses get into the act: you smell sin's stench. Even more importantly, you see sin's cost, image it, weep over it; for sin's cost is a cross, the pierced hands of a God-man. The God-man. The Exercises are a constant contemplation--contemplation of Christ. Never abstract theology, though theology informs it all. In Bethlehem's cave you are a servant; you not only listen to Mary and Joseph, you "smell the infinite flagrance and taste the infinite sweetness of the divinity.''28 You flee with that unique family into Egypt, feel what it means to be a refugee in the Middle East. In a decisive meditation you not only contrast "two standards," two scenarios for orienting your life. The standards take flesh in two persons: in a Satan who inspires "horror and terror," who makes you lust for riches, for honor, for pride; and in a living Christ who attracts you to poverty, insults, and humil-ity.: 9 It is not only Jesus who is tempted in the wilderness; you wrestle with your personal devils, sweat through the temptations that jolted Jesus: Use your powers, your gifts, your possessions just for your own fantastic self, for the sweet smell of success. Like the sinful woman, you wash our Lord's feet with your tears, feel your sins forgiven because you too have "loved much" (Lk 7:47). And so into Christ's passion, which you no longer study with scholarly detachment, comparing different traditions, reconcil-ing inconsistencies. Ignatius wants you to feel: grief and shame indeed, "because the Lord is going to his suffering for [your] sins,''3° but even, if possible, the kiss that betrayed him, the nails that held him fast. And finally, joy in the risen Christ. Not sim-ply a sense of relief; rather your whole being bursting with new life, his life, as you share his rising with his Mother, try to touch him with Magdalen, munch seafood with him and the Eleven. This is not simply your own picture show, on a level with 174 Review for Religious Kevin Costner "Dancing with !/Volves.''31 Ignatius playing with your capacity to imagine is attempting something terribly signif-icant psychologically and spiritually. This "application of the senses" goes back to a medieval tradition that reached Ignatius through a book he read while convalescing from cannon wounds back at Loyola.32 The unknown Franciscan author had written: If you wish to draw profit from these meditations., make everything that the Lord Jesus said and did present to your-self, just as though you were hearing it with your ears and seeing it with your eyes . And even when it is related in the past tense you should contemplate it all as though pres-ent today. VChy is this highly significant for an intelligent spirituality? Because you are no longer looking at the life of Christ sheerly as history, something that took place in the past. The events of Jesus' earthly existence must be seen as a "today," the historical hap-penings drawn into your own world here and now. That is how you achieve not abstract knowledge but what the medievals called "familiarity with Christ," an understanding that takes hold not only of discursive reasoning but of the whole person. Imagination leads to love--a direct experience of love. Ignatius films in living color what Aquinas phrased in attractive abstraction: There are two ways of desiring knowledge. One way is to desire it as a perfection of one's self; and that is the way philosophers desire it. The other way is to desire it not [merely] as a perfection of one's self but because through this knowledge the one we love becomes present to us; and that is the way saints desire it.34 Third, the Spiritual Exercises should alter your world of liv-ing, that is, the life of social realities. Here three facets call for clarification: social realities, the Exercises, and you. What do I mean by social realities? I mean the life of a soci-ety, the life that moves beyond the individual in isolation to com-munity, people interacting, impacting one on another, human persons depending on one another. How do the Spiritual Exercises touch social realities? After all, did not Ignatius himself describe the Exercises as "every way of preparing and disposing" ourselves to remove "all disordered attachments and, after their removal, of seeking and finding God's will in the way we direct our lives"?3s This sounds rather indi-vidualistic, does it not? Or, at best, quite vague. March-April 1992 175 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry I am aware that in 1975 the 32nd General Congregation of Jesuits declared, "The mission of the Society of Jesus today is the service of faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.''36 And it went on to assert a bit later: Every sector of our educational works should be subjected to constant review, so that they will not only continue to form young people and adults able and willing to build a more just social order, but do so ever more effectively. Especially should we help form our Christian students as "men [and women]-for-others" in a mature faith and in per-sonal attachment to Jesus Christ, persons whose lively faith impels them to seek and find Christ in the service of their fellow men [and women]. Thus we shall contribute to form-ing persons who will themselves multiply the work of world-wide education.-~7 But our specific question remains: Granted that our colleges should prepare women and men to construct a more just social order, how do the Spiritual Exercises lay a foundation for the social-justice component of Jesuit education? Almost a half century ago, a young Jesuit who had not yet taken his final vows in the Society was asked by his provincial to direct the annual eight-day retreat for the Jesuit theology stu-dents at Alma in California. In the course of the retreat, director Father George H. Dunne reflected on a number of social issues. Dealing with the Sermon on the Mount, for example, and the two great commandments, he "talked about poverty, peace, war, not in the abstract but in the concrete." He "talked about anti- Semitism, Hitler's holocaust, racial segregation, the rat-infested tenements in New York, the exploitation of migrant farm work-ers, the Spanish Civil War, the anguish of the world's poor . -38 Not long after, he received a letter from the representative of the Jesuit superior general for the American provinces during World War II. Father Zacheus J. Maher charged Father Dunne with substituting for the Spiritual Exercises a series of "brilliant talks on social subjects." "Such subjects," he declared, "have no place in the Spiritual Exercises.''> Let us make an admission: Our neighbor, the wider society, is not explicit in the text of the Exercises.4° Not surprising; for the Exercises "are addressed to individuals, and they seek to enable a person to have the interior freedom to serve God . -41 But if you delve more deeply, you discover how profoundly social, societal, the Exercises are. 176 Review for Religious You see, the Ignatian meditations point you ceaselessly to Christ, to the Christ of the Gospels, in that way to absorb the mind of Christ. And so you focus on the programmatic scene in Nazareth's synagogue, where Jesus makes his own the announce-ment in Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to preach good news to the poor, to proclaim release for pris-oners and sight for the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, and to proclaim the Lord's year of favor" (Lk 4:1 8-1 9).42 Through the Exercises that program ceases to be pecu-liarly Jesus'; it becomes your own. What Second Isaiah announced to the people of his day Jesus announces to the poor and impris-oned, the blind and deprived of his day. And this is what Christians in the mold of Ignatius announce to the downtrodden of their day. With Ignatius in the final Contemplation for Learning to Love Like God, you ponder profoundly how Christ "labors for [you] in all creatures on the face of the earth, that is, he behaves like one who labors. In the heav-ens, the elements, the plants, the fruits, the cattle, [man and woman], he gives being, conserves them in existence, confers life and sensation, and so on.''43 And you ask to labor with Christ as he ceaselessly creates, recreates, redeems a fallen world. Last Easter a Catholic professor of history ended his regular column in a diocesan newspaper with two puzzling sentences: "When Jesus rose from the dead, he did not go about lecturing on the social problems of his day. Instead he manifested himself in glory to his disciples in a manner that empowered them to go forth as his courageous emissaries.''44 But neither did the risen Jesus go about celebrating the Eucharist and fingering his rosary. And what did he empower them to go forth to do? To baptize indeed; to preach what he preached. But did he not preach loving your sisters and brothers as Jesus loved you? Does such loving have nothing to do with war on the womb or war in the Middle East? Nothing to do with inhuman poverty or child abuse? Nothing to do with racism or the rape of the earth? What you should experience through the Exercises is that by God's design and initiative human existence is fundamentally social, societal:4s we are "we" before we are "I" and "thou." This By God's design and initiative human existence is fundamentally social, societal. March-April 1992 177 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry is central in Christian revelation and of primary importance for our contemporary culture of individualism, where we think first of self and then how we can join with others in community--as though community did not precede the individual genetically, psychically, socially, and spiritually.46 Even Catholic social teach-ing frequently fails to position this fact front and center, because it lays down as primary in its social ethics the "dignity of the human person, who is made to the image of God." From there the teaching argues to the God-invested rights of the individual which other individuals and institutions must respect. This misses the point of the Genesis story (on which it is often based) that the "Adam" who is given such dignity is not an individual but "the hmnan," our whole race in personification.47 How does all this touch us? Very simply, a university or col-lege ought to be not only the seedbed of learning and imagination; it should be the boot camp of our societal existence. The Jesuit educational ideal is not the intellectual mole who lives almost entirely underground, surfaces occasionally for fresh air and a Big Mac, burrows back down to the earthworms before people can distract him. No. A college is where young men and women who may one day profoundly influence America's way of life touch, some for the first time, the ruptures that sever us from our earth, from our sisters and brothers, from our very selves. Not simply in an antiseptic classroom, for all its high importance for under-standing. Even more importantly, experience of rupture: experi-ence not only of ecology but of an earth irreparably ravaged, not only abstract poverty but the stomach-bloated poor, not only the words "child abuse" but the vacant stare of the child abused, not only a book on racism but the hopelessness or hatred in human hearts. To yearn for such experience, I know no better introduc-tion than experiencing the Christ of the Spiritual Exercises, the conversion consequent on seeing Christ more clearly, loving him more dearly. Can you get a 4.0, be learned, a scholar, without such a con-version? Undoubtedly. Can you make megabucks in business or law, in medicine or government without such a conversion? Undoubtedly. Can you marry well, raise two and a half children, treat them to an Ivy school education without such a conversion? Undoubtedly. Can you be deliriously happy without such a con-version? Undoubtedly. Can you live an integrated human and Christian existence without such a conversion? I doubt it. 178 Review for Religious Notes i Spiritual Exercises 1; translation partially mine. 2 Reference to a type of dancing currently in high favor with the young and involving amazing hyperactivity. 3 Thomas B. Edsall, "GOP Battler Lee Atwater Dies at 40," Washington Post, 30 March 1991, 1 and 7. 4 Second Vatican Council, Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, no. 59. s Spiritual Exercises 236. For Christ as the "creator and Lord" of this contemplation, see Hugo Rahner SJ, Ignatius the Theologian (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968 / San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1991), p. 134. 6 Here I am drawing largely, but not entirely, on material in nay book Preaching: The Art and the Craft (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1987), pp. 19-25. 7 I am aware that fantasy does not have to mean the bizarre; I am speaking of a com~non current usage. The development was concisely expressed in l/Vebster's New International Dictionary of the English Language (2nd ed. unabridged; Springfield, Mass.: Merriam, 1958), p. 918: "From the conception of fantasy as the faculty of mentally reproducing sensible objects, the meaning appears to have developed into: first, false or delu-sive mental creation; and second, any senselike representation in the mind, equivalent to the less strict use of imagination and fancy. Later fan-tasy acquired, also, a somewhat distinctive usage, taking over the sense of whimsical, grotesque, or bizarre image making. This latter sense, however, did not attach itself to the variant phantasy, which is used for visionary or phantasmic imagination." See also Urban T. Hohnes III, Ministry and Imagination (New York: Seabury, 1976), pp. 100-103. ~ Holmes, ibid, pp. 97-98. Here Holmes is a&nittedly borrowing from Owen Barfield, Saving the Appearances: A Study in Idolatry (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, n.d.). 9 See Holmes, ibid, p. 88. 10 Theodore W. Jennings Jr., Introduction to Theology: An Invitation to Reflection upon the Christian Mythos (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 49. 1~ See ibid, p. 52. 12 Sallie M. TeSelle, cited by Holmes, Ministry and Imagination, p. 166, from the Journal of the American Academy of Religion 42 (1974): 635. ~3 Lest the reader be unduly disturbed, myth is not opposed to fact or to fancy. Its raw material tnay he fact or it may be fancy; in either case it intends "to narrate the fundamental structure of human being in the world. By the concreteness of its imagery, the universality of its intention, its narrative or stoW form, the myth evokes the identification and par-ticipation of those for whom it functions as revelatory" (Jennings, Introduction to Theology, pp. 51-52). ~4 Avery Dulles SJ, "The Symbolic Structure of Revelation," March-April 1992 179 Burghardt ¯ The Exercises for Educational Ministry Theological Studies 41 (1980): 55-56. Dulles studies the five dominant approaches to revelation: the propositional, historical, mystical, dialecti-cal, and symbolic--with greatest stress on the symbolic. He asks how in each theory revelation is mediated and what kind of truth it has. He con-cludes that in Christ the five aspects coalesce in a kind of unity, but insists that the first four are reconciled and held in unity through the symbolic facet. ~s Ibid, p. 56. 16 A. N. Whitehead, The Aims of Education and Other Essays (New York: Macmillan, 1929), p. 139. 17 Gerard Manley Hopkins, "As kingfishers catch fire. ," Poem 57 in W. H. Gardner and N.H. Mackenzie, eds., The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (London: Oxford University, 1970), p. 90. ~ Amos Niven Wilder, Theopoetic: Theology and the Religious Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 57. ~') Ibid, p. 67. ~,0 Andrew M. Greeley, The Catholic Myth: The Behavior and Beliefs of American Catholics (New York: Scribner's, 1990), p. 37. 21 Norman Perrin, Jesus and the Language of the Kingdom (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), p. 33. ~2 Greeley, The Catholic ~Vlyth, p. 44. 23 Here Greeley (p. 45) admits his dependence on David Tracy's The Analogical Imagination (New York: Crossroad, 1981). 24 Greeley, The C)ttholic Myth, p. 45. ~5 See ibid, p. 55. 26 Ibid, p. 45. Hcre, too, Greeley is indebted to David Tracy. Note Greeley's warning to his readers that the word "tend" is "used advisedly. Zero-sum relationships do not exist in the world of the preconscious" (ibid). -,7 Ibid, p. 253. See p. 254: "I argue., that the obvious functional role of Mary the mother of Jesus in the Catholic tradition is to reflect the mother love of God." For detailed presentation of the origins and func-tion of the Mary symbol, see Greeley's The Mary Myth (New York: Seabury, 1977). 2~ Spiritual Exercises 124; text from Louis J. Puhl sJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University, 195 I), p. 55. 29 Spiritual Exercises 140, 146 (Puhl, pp. 60, 62). 30 Spiritual Exercises 193 (Puhl, p. 81). 31 A current fihn that made off with a number of Academy awards. 3~ The book was Meditationes vitae Christi, long attributed to St. Bonaventure but actually composed by an unknown Franciscan of the fourteenth century; see Rahner, Ignatius the Theologian (n. 5 above), pp. 192-193. Quoted from Rahner, ibid, p. 193. 180 Review for Religious 34 1 have not been able as yet to document this text. 3s Spiritual Exercises 1 ; translation partially mine. 36 Documents of the Thirty-second General Congregatio,z of the Society of Jesus, 2 December 1974--7 March 1975 I, 4 (Washington, D.C.: Jesuit Conference, [1975]), p. 17. 37 Ibid, I, 4, pp. 35-36. 38 King's Pawn: The Memoirs of George H. Dunue, s.J. (Chicago: Loyola University, 1990), p. 70. 39 Ibid, pp. 69, 70. q0 See useful material in Dean Brackley SJ, "Downward Mobility: Social Implications of St. Ignatius's Two Standards," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 20, no. 4 (January 1988): 53; also in Thomas E. Clark SJ, "Ignatian Spirituality and Societal Consciousness," ibid, 7, no. 4 (September 1975): 127-150. 4~ Brackley, "Downward Mobility," p. 12. 42 On this episode see Joseph A. Fitzmyer SJ, The Gospel according to Luke (I-IX) (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1981), p. 529: "Luke had deliberately put this story [4:16-30] at the beginning of the public min-istry to encapsulate the entire ministry of Jesus and the reaction to it." 43 Spiritual Exercises 236; translation partially mine. 44james Hitchcock in St. Louis Review, 29 March 1991, p. 11. 4s See Clarke (n. 40 above), pp. 128-129, for the advantages of the adjective "societal" over "social" in reference to apostolate and ministry. "Social" efforts "seek immediately and personally to alleviate the misery of those individuals who are deprived." "Societal" activity "concerns itself immediately with the healing and transformation of those human struc-tures, institutions, processes, and environments which draw persons into misery or make it difficult for them to emerge from it." 46 See Matthew Lamb, "The Social and Political Dimensions of Lonergan's Theology," in Vernon Gregson, ed., The Desires of the Human Heart (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1988), p. 270. 471 owe this paragraph to notes of James L. Connor sJ, director of the Woodstock Theological Center, Washington, D.C., prepared for the inau-gural retreat of my project Preaching the Just Word, an effort to move the preaching of social-justice issues more effectively into the Catholic pul-pits of the United States. March-April 1992 181 MELANNIE SVOBODA Going the Distance, Sustaining the Gift an one of her newspaper columns, Ellen Goodman describes pheno~nenon called "compassion fatigue." This occurs when people who are normally sensitive and generous get "tired of caring." Most Americans, Goodman maintains, are very caring in emergencies. She writes: "We are great at performing the one-night stands for causes. Christmas dinner for the poor, collec-tions for victims of fire or flood or famine." But if the emergency situation becomes chronic, many of us find it difficult to sustain our initial level of concern. When compassion fatigue sets in, says Goodman, "A gift can begin to feel like an obligation, generosity can turn into resentment, and sympathy can turn hard." I think Goodman's article has definite implications for those of us involved in ministry in the church. Let us face it: most of us are in ministry not for a one-night stand. We are in it for years, maybe even for life. The problems we deal with every day--igno-rance, poverty, injustice, sickness, violence--will not go away overnight--or even in a matter of a few years. So the question we have to ask ourselves is: How do we keep our compassion alive over the long haul? How do we fan the flame of enthusiasm for a lifetime of service in the church? Before I suggest some ways of doing this, I would like to say a few words about why. For everything I say is based on the premise Melannie Svoboda SND, with whom our readers are well acquainted, resides at Notre Dame Academy; Route One, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. 182 Review for Religious that coinpassion and enthusiasm are essential for ministry in the church. Without them, ministry is at best a mere show and at worst a perversion of the very Gospel we claim to proclaim. To illustrate this fact, I tried to come up with an image of ministry as compassionate, generous, and enthusiastic--and not something performed out of a sense of obligation and even with resentment. The image I came up with may appear an unlikely one: feeding chickens! But let me explain. Feeding Chickens I was born and raised on a small goose farm in Willoughby Hills, Ohio. That rural "initial formation" continues to influence my outlook on life. On our farm we had hundreds of white Emden geese. It was my father and brothers who had the job of feeding them. But we also had a couple dozen chickens, and the task of feeding them usually fell to my mother, my sister, or me. Now what is the connection between feeding chickens and ministering in today's church? Simple. The way I see it, there are three essential elements to proper chicken feeding (and, I might add, to proper church ministry). First, there is the feed itself--the corn, the mash, whatever. The feed is the gift we bring to the chickens. More than that, it is their source of nourishment, of life itself. Without too much of a stretch of the imagination, we can say that the chicken feed is the "good news" we bring each day to our chickens. The second element of chicken feeding involves calling the chickens. We have to get their attention, alert them to the feed we have for them. But a good chicken feeder goes beyond merely calling the chickens. He or she establishes a relationship with them. The feeder talks to the chickens, even thanking them for the fine eggs they have been laying. For a good chicken feeder (like a good church minister) is always aware of being a receiver as well as a giver. The third element of chicken feeding (and of ministry) is the actual broadcasting of the feed. How does an experienced chicken feeder broadcast the feed? Eagerly, generously, unsparingly. Now that is an image of ministry at its best, ministry with compassion and enthusiasm. Ministry at its worst would be the person who sets out to feed the chickens grumbling and mum-bling the whole way to the chicken coop. "I have got to feed those March-April 1992 183 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance stupid chickens--again. I just fed them yesterday. They're never satisfied. All they do is eat, eat, eat. What good are they, any-way?" Such a feeder might not even call the chickens, thinking: "If I don't call them, maybe they won't come, and then I won't have to feed them." But, of course, the chickens do come, called or uncalled. And how does this kind of feeder broadcast the feed? Perhaps sparingly: "A kernel for you, a kernel for you . " Or angrily, throwing handfuls of feed down on the ground in dis-gust. Or hastily, dumping the whole pail of feed in one spot, just to get the job over with. That is an image of ministry when compassion fatigue has set in. I maintain that ministering in such a way is a contradiction of the Gospel. For we are called to proclaim the good news, not the "ho-hum" news, not the "halfway decent" news. We are called to love the people to whom we minister, not "put up with" them or view them as a nuisance. If we can no longer minister with gen-uine compassion or with vibrant enthusiasm, then maybe we should not be ministering. Years ago I had a Scripture teacher who made this point very clear. He said that on a given day we might wake up crabby, dis-couraged, depressed, mad at the whole world and every human being in it. On such a morning, maybe we should call the office, the school, or the parish and say in all honesty and humility, "I won't be in. I cannot in conscience represent the Gospel today." The suggestion, though perhaps a little extreme, does make a salient point: an anti-sign to the Gospel is probably worse than no sign at all. In other words, if our words, attitude, and whole bear-ing contradict the Good News we represent, then maybe we should not be representing it. Compassion and enthusiasm are requisites for effective min-istry. What, then, are some ways we can "go the distance" and "sustain our gift" of ministering? There are, no doubt, many ways. Here, I suggest four. Retaining the Big Picture The first way is to retain the big picture. Sometimes we lose enthusiasm for our ministry because our perspective becomes too narrow, our vision myopic. We lose sight of the big picture and get enmeshed in the near at hand, the petty, the nitty-gritty. In his book The Art of Choosing, Carlos ~Galles SJ reminds us how impor- 184 Review for Reli~4ous rant it is in life to have a sense of direction. He describes "a lovely little habit" that Ignatius had of stopping himself physically in the middle of a hall and asking himself, "Where am I going? And what for?" That habit was one way Ignatius had of connecting a seemingly insignificant action--going to the dining room to eat, heading for chapel to pray, or walking down the hall to a meet-ing-- with the bigger picture of ministering to God's people. The practice is a good one: regularly and consciously to make ourselves see our daily small actions as part of a greater whole. Recently I watched an artist painting a large mural of a sunrise. I noticed how frequently she stepped back from her work to gain a broader perspective. Then she would step forward, add a few more strokes with the paint roller, and step back again for another look. We must do the same thing in our ministry. Sometimes God seems to provide us with opportunities to do this: after a suc-cessful activity, after an apparent failure, at the time of a transfer or change in ministry, or during a serious illness. But we can also do this more regularly: during an annual retreat or a monthly day of recollection, in the morning before we begin our day, or in the evening before we crawl (or fall) into bed. The habit of ask-ing "Where am I going (or where have I been today) and what for?" will put us in touch with the real zvhat and v:hatfor of our ministry, thus enabling us to catch at least a glimpse of how our "daily chores" fit into the big picture of God's grand design. Seeing Babies A second way of retaining our compassion and enthusiasm I call: seeing babies and not diapers. A priest told me once that a young mother came to him very discouraged and worn out. "I'm sick and tired of changing diapers," she cried. The priest thought for a moment and then gently suggested, "Next time don't change the diaper. Change the baby." He was not being "celibately sar-castic." He was pointing out to her a lesson in perspective. We have to see the tasks we do in relation to the individual human beings for whom we do them. During a retreat another priest told this true stoW. A teenage boy was seriously injured in a car accident. When the parish priest was notified, he immediately went to the hospital to see the boy. When the priest walked in, the boy said, "Father, if you've come here for God's sake, then for God's sake, get out! But if you have March-April 1992 185 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance come here because you think I am worth it, then please stay." The priest stayed. Maybe for too long we overemphasized "All for the greater honor and glory of God." That phrase certainly encapsulates a marvelous truth, but, like most truths, even that one needs another truth to balance it. In our ministry we do not bypass the human beings we serve. We do not overlook them. We do not use them to win God's favor. We must remember, we minister not to parishes, schools, hospitals, or dioceses. We minister to individ-ual human beings--to Vera, Frank, Carlos, Heather--and each of them is worth it. Getting Support A third way we sustain our gift of ministry is: We get sup-port. The venerable tradition of rugged individualism that helped found this great nation will not "cut it" in ministry. The truth is, we cannot "go it alone." Fortunately, our contemporary times, with its emphasis on support groups, reminds us of this truth. I came to appreciate the importance of support groups when I became a flee-lance writer. Before that I had been a full-time high school teacher for many years. As a teacher I had a built-in support group: the other teachers on the faculty. But when I seri-ously began to write as part of my ministry, I suddenly felt terri-bly isolated and alone. It became difficult for me to sit in front of my typewriter (and later tny computer) for two or three hours a day and write, for I would recall working for hours on a piece only to have it fizzle into nothingness. Or I would send out arti-cles and stories enthusiastically only to have them lost, mutilated, or rejected. Finally I knew I needed support in my ministry--and more than the occasional acceptance letter offers. So I attended some writers' conferences and hooked up with a few other people who write for publication. I rely on these friends for the under-standing and encouragement that only a fellow writer can give. In his book The Four Loves, C.S. Lewis writes beautifully about the origin of a friendship. He says a friendship originates when two people, often engaged in a common task, disclose some-thing of their inner selves to each other. They turn to each other in amazement and say, "You, too?" We in church ministry need to experience that "you-too?-ness" with others who are engaged in the same or similar ministry. 186 Review for Religious Being More than a Minister A fourth way we can go the distance in our ministry is to be more than a minister. We probably all agree that we are more than we do, and that we are far more valuable than what we pro-duce. But an effective minister does more than give intellectual assent to that truth. He or she makes decisions based on it. He or she takes time to be more than a minister, knowing how pathetic it is if a minister's identity is restricted to a particular job or title. There is always a danger of turning even church work into an end in itself. Workaholism is alive and well in most business organizations and (we have to admit with sadness) also in our church. The problem is, workaholism, though a real addiction, looks a lot like dedication. If a minister in the church is addicted to alcohol or gambling or food or sex, chances are someone (or someones) sooner or later will intervene to help that person. But if a minister is addicted to work~staying up all hours of the night, never taking time for a break or vacation, never socializing with people in a nonwork setting--we sometimes let him or her go on. Or even worse, we praise that person, thus encouraging the addiction. In this regard, we should recall that the primary biblical image of heaven is not an office, not a school, not a parish. It is a party, a banquet. If all we do our whole life is work, work, work, chances are we are going to feel extremely out of place in heaven. We will not know what to do, how to let go, how to have fun. No, we ministers should learn how to be party people while we are still here on earth--even as we minister. We work hard, yes, knowing full well that our ministry cannot always be restricted to certain office hours. But we also know how to get away, how to enjoy people and have fun. The Cross, the Cost So far we have looked at four ways to help prevent compas-sion fatigue in our ministry. But there is one more word I wish to say about compassion fatigue: sometimes it is the cross we bear, the cost we pay. Our fatigue is not always a sign that we are doing something wrong. Sometimes it is a sign that we are doing some-thing right. Our periodic fatigue and occasional discouragement put us in touch with our limits. And experiencing our limits is vital to effective ministry. Otherwise we run the risk of living in March-April 1992 187 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance illusion, of beginning to think that we are responsible for the good we do or that we are the "good news" we proclaim--and not Jesus. Our ministry, in order to be authentic, must cost us some-thing-- in time, in energy, in love. I am reminded of that seem-ingly insignificant incident in the story of David at the end of the second book of Samuel. David, nearing the end of his life, goes to a man named Araunah and asks to buy his threshing place in order to build an altar there for the Lord. Araunah tells David, "Take it, Your Majesty." And he offers to give several oxen, too, all free of charge. But David refuses to accept Araunah's gifts. He insists on paying for everything, saying, "I will not offer the Lord my God sacrifices that have cost me nothing." At times we all get weary in our ministry. Our fatigue, loneliness, or discouragement are part of the cost of our love and service of others, part of the sacrifice we make regularly to God for the privilege of serving in the church. The Ministry of Jesus How does all of this relate to the person of Jesus? How did he remain loving and alive throughout his ministry? First of all, Jesus had the big picture. He possessed an amazingly expansive view of reality. He looked at a crude fisherman and saw a great leader. He observed the birds in the air and comprehended God's provident care. He beheld a sinful woman and recognized her as a woman who loved much. Jesus was always ready to adjust his perspective, to align it ever more closely with that of the Father. Nowhere is that more clearly seen than in Gethsemane. Jesus' initial reaction to his impending crucifixion was "Please let this pass!" But by let-ting go of his limited perspective, he could say, "Your will be done"; in other words, "I embrace your point of view." Jesus saw babies and not diapers. That is, he focused on indi-vidual people and not on the immense task he had to perform. The Gospels show Jesus speaking to large crowds, of course, but more often they show him relating to individuals: the twelve apos-tles, the man with a withered hand, a centurion, a demoniac, Simon's mother-in-law, a particular deaf man, a grieving widow, an epileptic, Jairus, Nicodemus, Mary and Martha, and so forth. The clear impression is that Jesus ministered to individuals. Even more important, individuals were his legacy. Jesus did not leave 188 Review for Relig4ous behind a spiral notebook on how to run a church. He did not write a curriculum nor even one encyclical. Instead, he left behind people--individuals--whose lives he touched and radically altered. Maybe we have to ask ourselves: How do we measure the effectiveness of our ministry? By the number of reports we fill out? By the neatness of our office? By the thick-ness of our files? Or by the individuals we have ministered to and with--and those we have allowed to minister to us? Jesus liked support groups. In fact, he even started one: the apostles. He also went outside that group for the kind of support that those dozen men could not give him. He seemed to need and appreciate the feminine encouragement of a Mary and a Martha, the unique devotion of a Mary Magdalene. The Gospels show Jesus enioying people. He was not always preaching or teaching or giving workshops. He was relaxing in the company of his friends and colleagues. Even in his darkest hour in Gethsemane, he did not "go it alone." He took part of his support group with him: Peter, James, and John. They disappointed him, yes, as people sometimes disappoint us, too. But Jesus understood their weakness and forgave them, knowing his ultimate support group was the Father and the Spirit. Lastly, Jesus was more than a minister, much more. Van Gogh supposedly said, "If you want to know God, love many things." One reason Jesus was so close to God was because he loved so many things, so many varied aspects of life. Jesus was perhaps a carpenter. What can we deduce from that simple fact? He had a "good eye," a highly developed aesthetic sense. He had a steady hand and knew and appreciated wood. Jesus was a storyteller, too, and a fine one. His "Good Samaritan" and "Prodigal Son" are masterpieces. 0nly a person in touch with the core of life could have spun such magnificent yarns. Jesus was well acquainted with other components of life: bread baking, barbecuing, wine making, and farming, to name but a few. He was keenly aware of the political situation of his times. He was in touch with the prejudices of his day as well as the hopes and dreams of his people. He was something of a naturalist, too, sen-sitive to the changing seasons and to the flora and fauna of his Our ministry, in order to be authentic, must cost us something.- in time, in energy, in love. March-April 1992 189 Svoboda ¯ Going the Distance immediate environment. Little wonder Jesus was so effective as a minister--for he was so much more than one. He was a person fascinated by life, and thus he became a source of fascination--and salvation--for others. Yes, Van Gogh said it: "If you want to know God, love many things." But Jesus lived it, leaving an example for all of us who would follow in his footsteps: "If you want to minister, love many things!" The Long-Distance Runner When I taught high school in Raleigh, North Carolina, in the late 70s, I had a senior girl who was a top-ranking long-dis-tance runner. Julie taught me that there is a world of difference between the sprinter and the long-distance runner. The training and techinques are vastly different. The sprinter's goal is near, often clearly visible. He or she relies on a quick burst of energy to reach that goal within a matter of seconds. Because the dis-tance is so short, the sprinter runs side by side, neck and neck, with other runners who provide an impetus for the sprinter to run hard and fast. Not so with the long-distance runner. This runner's goal is miles away, not even visible. He or she must take steps all along the way to conserve energy for the long haul. Pacing becoInes critical. Although the runners in a marathon start out together, toward the end of the race they often find themselves running alone and forced to rely on deep inner resources and not the near-ness of fellow runners to keep them going to the end. The image of the long-distance runner is an appropriate one for those of us engaged in ministry. For most of us are in ministry for the long haul. We do not want our loving service to deterio-rate into a stoic sense of duty, but to remain a joyful gift. We do not want resentment to contaminate our pool of selfless giving. Instead we want our generosity to be alive and well, our com-passion tender and strong. And we wish to carry our enthusiasm for the Good News all the way to the finish line. Thank God, we do not run alone: God, our God, goes with us--the whole distance. 190 Review for Religious HALBERT WEIDNER Newman's Living the Oratory Charism As the biographical approach to writers and thinkers pro-liferates, so does the controversy over its historical worth. I am taking a biographical approach to John Henry Newman with some trepidation because of the length of his life, his great contributions to thought, and the complexities of the issues. Still I am encouraged in the enterprise by Newman him-self, who insisted on the validity of personal influence in the pur-suit of truth) I intend in this essay first to introduce readers to the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, which Newman brought to England, and then to discuss the Oratory as important for understanding certain values in Newman's life. Newman arrived at these values and maintained them at some personal cost. That cost represents for this author, another Oratorian, the personal drama of grace and conversion of a founding father among English-speaking Oratories. The Nature of an Oratory of St. Philip Neri The first thing that should be said about an Oratory is what it is not. It is not a religious order. There are no vows, no oaths, no promises of any kind public or private. There is no Rule. You will see a Rule mentioned in the time of Newman, but actually what you have are constitutions representing the practice of the Roman house in the latter part of the sixteenth century.2 Philip Neri was a reluctant founder who refused to write a Rule or con-stitutions. Halbert Weidner CO sends these reflections from the Spiritual Life Center; 2717 Pamoa Road; Honolulu, Hawaii 96822. March-April 1992 191 This irregular founder lived from 1515 until 1595, coming to Rome as a young Florentine in 1533. He was not ordained until he was thirty-six years old. He had been a student, a hermit and mystic, and a member of a reforming confraternity which served sick pilgrims, that is, the poor who became ill while visit-ing Rome. He lived in a set of apartments with other priests as part of a complex named San Girolamo della Carit~. It was in a prayer room at this church that the crowd who could no longer fit into Philip's rooms began to gather daily at the siesta hour for prayer. It was this afternoon gathering of laity which was the first Oratory.3 Perhaps the best description of St. Philip's intent is given by Newman himself in The Idea of a University: He [Philip Neri] was raised up to do a work ahnost peculiar in the church--not to be a Jerome Savonarola, though Philip had a true devotion towards him and a tender mem-ory of his Florentine house; not to be a St. Charles, though in his beaming countenance Philip had recognized the aure-ole of a saint; not to be a St. Ignatius, wrestling with the foe, though Philip was termed the Society~ bell of call, so many subjects did he send to it; not to be a St. Francis Xavier, though Philip had longed to shed his blood for Christ in India with him; not to be a St. Caietan, or hunter of souls, for Philip preferred, as he expressed it, tranquilly to cast in his net to gain them; he preferred to yield to the stream, and direct the current, which he could not stop, of science, literature, art, and fashion, and to sweeten and to sanctify what God had made very good and man had spoilt.4 Those who gathered around Philip found a mystic, a reformer, and a humanist, but they did not find him in a cloister or in any religious order. They found him in his rooms with the doors wide open to the public and surrounded by laity. This is why the Oratory is first and foremost secular. It was this laity that formed the original gathering for prayer in a place of prayer (that is, an oratory) and these same laypersons who preached, led prayers, sang in the vernacular, and studied together each afternoon under Philip's guidance. The Congregation of the Oratory is a secondary group of secular priests and laity which gathered around Philip as the Oratory became less of a movement and more of an institu-tion. But before this, Philip carried on the ministry of prayer and reflection from 1551 until 1575, more or less activating the laity as the leaders. It was in 1575 that a secondary group of priests and brothers had gathered sufficiently to be formally organized 192 Review for Religious with papal approval. But this Congregation was without any con-stitutions and was still primarily organized for the initial group of laity,s Constitutions for the Congregation were not finished until 1612, seventeen years after Philip's death. Later the institution of the congregation became more clericalized as not only the pri-mary group of laity disappeared, but even the brothers were no longer accepted, leaving a congregation of secular priests who lived together in community. While the Oratory is unique within Roman Catholicism, its values represent a mind-set present among many reformers of the early sixteenth century. This reforming spirit is symbolized by the values St. Jerome came to represent within a church loaded down with religious orders heavy on structure and low in spirit. Erasmus had noted that, in the days of St. Jerome, "the profession of a monk consisted in no more than the practice of the original, free, purely Christian life.''6 The summary of Erasmus's thinking about the ideal religious given us in Eugene Rice's St. Jerome in the Renaissance could also be a description of the spirit animating the early Oratory of St. Philip: Monks then were men who wished only to live with willing friends in liberty of spirit close to the teachings of the Gospel. Their lives were sweetly leisured. No ceremonies or man-made regulations fettered them. No single dress was prescribed. No deference was paid to total abstinence. They studied, they fasted, and sang psalms as the spirit moved them. They took no vows.7 This being said, we can note some positive elements in the Congregation of the Oratory: A. It is a center of prayer by nature. The classical form that this prayer takes dates back to the more intimate group that gath-ered in the evening around Philip. This amounts to about a half hour of silent prayer or meditation concluded with vocal prayers. The two-hour prayer sessions led by and for the laity at the time of St. Philip have been the casualty of time. Likewise the primary group of laity called the Oratory has also passed away except for a remnant often called "the Little Oratory." This name is quite ironic since what has become "little" was in fact the biggest and the first of the founder's works, not to say the very reason behind it all. Except for a directive to somehow maintain the secular or "Little Oratory," the ministry of the Congregation is otherwise unspecified and unspecialized. Each house tends to the work at 21/larch-April992 193 The life of an Oratory is said to be built on a deep regard for "well-known faces.' hand, and assignments tend to reflect the talents of the members. Philip Neri was against centralization and so put on its own every house that wished to follow on his general pattern. He believed that duplication was impossible and that each situation called for its own approach. B. Face-to-face association is essential to the Oratory. In a phrase going back to the community's origins, the life of an Oratory is said to be built on a deep regard for "well-known faces.''8 There were no fears to be engendered in an Oratory over friendships, and such a pol-icy militated against large sizes and the anomaly of "communities" of religious who have to resort to books with mem-bers' pictures for help in identification. C. Relative permanence is an ideal even though there are no vows or any-thing else holding a person to an Oratory. Perseverance is a fundamental aspect of the house spirituality and is often prayed for aloud at community prayer. Note that members cannot be transferred from one house to another and that, if they leave a house to go voluntarily to another that has freely accepted them, they must usually transfer membership as well. This means that problems with and among members must be worked out within the house since, obviously, transference cannot be the solution. Dismissal from a house is a rare and difficult pro-cedure. D. Small numbers, then, are the consequence of Oratorian living. The Constitutions of the Congregation go so far as to say that the power of an Oratory resides in such a small membership. Large numbers would weaken a house, which is supposed to be built on interpersonal relationships. When Newman wrote The Present Position of Catholics in England, he was addressing the men of the secular or Little Oratory. Towards the end, he applies this Oratorian principle of strength despite small numbers when he tells them: Your strength lies in your God and your conscience; there-fore it lies not in your number. It lies not in your number any more than in intrigue, or combination, or worldly wisdom. God saves whether by many or by few; you are to aim at 194 Review for Religious showing forth His light, at diffusing "the sweet odor of His knowledge in every place": numbers would not secure this. On the contrary, the more you grew, the more you might be thrown back into yourselves, by the increased animosity and jealousy of your enemies. You are enabled in some mea-sure to mix with them while you are few; you might be thrown back upon yourselves, when you became many? The Oratory, then, exists to embody the ideal of koinonia, liv-ing together as a fruit of the Holy Spirit and a sign of God's rule. The Oratory is very conscious that only the Spirit can keep it together faithful to the charism and that a life of prayer and open-ness is the only way to persevere with any kind of fruitfulness. Community in this context is not a utility, but an end, the pres-ence of each person's final destiny in the communion of saints somehow present now. E. The Oratory is collegial to a unique degree. All major pol-icy decisions are made by the entire congregation of members who have finished six years. Personnel and financial decisions on a smaller scale are decided by a deputed congregation elected by the membership. The provost is the title of the "superior" who holds the office as first among equals. He is chiefly an adminis-trator and his authority rests in moral persuasion. His only clear power is that of proposal since neither the general congregation nor the smaller deputed congregation can discuss or vote on any-thing without this proposal. Since the provost serves only three years, any provost resisting the majority can only hold out for a certain time. E The Congregation of the Oratory is also juridically pon-tifical. Today each house is now part of a very loose confederation, but each is still a complete pontifical congregation. Each superior is a major superior. In Newman's time there was no confederation at all, and so each house was directly involved with the Roman Curia. This gives each small house a double relationship. They are rooted in their diocese and have a special relationship to the local church and the bishop on one hand, and yet on the other look to the Holy See for the preservation of the charism. We shall see how each of the elements of the Oratory Congregation played a role in the life of Newman. Newman and the Oratory I have chosen five aspects of Newman's life where I believe the March-April 1992 195 Oratorian charism was arrived at and purchased at some cost to him. These are: (1) the elasticity of the Oratory and Newman which was tested in his assumption of the rectorship of the Irish Catholic University, (2) the choice he had between a university apostolate and the Oratory during the Irish Catholic University founding, (3) the promotion of the laity in fields rightly theirs that had been co-opted by clericalism, (4) the resistance to foreign cultural aspects of Roman Catholicism in favor of an indigenous English religious life, (5) fidelity to community life in one place and one people. 1. The Elasticity of the Charism I have said that each Oratory has a great deal of elasticity to it as the congregation has no specific work to which its members are bound. This elasticity is from time to time tested within an individual Oratory, and Newman's assumption of the rectorship of a yet-to-be-founded university in Dublin was a very grave exper-iment in just how flexible an Oratory can be. But the flexibility had a true Oratorian origin. First, it was the result of consultation with both Birmingham and the not-yet-independent London house. Father Faber's letter indicates that the London community thought it good for the congregation that Newman assume the rectorship rather than anything less demand-ing, but less powerful.~° Secondly, it took a papal brief confirm-ing the arrangement before the attempt was made to do the impossible, that is, allow Newman to bilocate as provost in Birmingham and rector in Dublin.11 Thirdly, it was specifically for the purpose of starting a Dublin Oratory, and Newman's build-ing plans indicate he gave priority to the Oratory in that the uni-versity church built there was for the sake of a potential foundation.12 But Newman knew how precarious it was for an Oratorian to be away from his house. In a letter to Ambrose St. John he says, "I trust we shall have an Oratory in Dublin--which is the only thing I can bribe St. Philip with for coming here.''13 That it was a disaster emotionally for Newman and a serious drain on the Birmingham Oratory does not make it any less Oratorian for all that. Because of its lack of structure, it is typical of an Oratory to try to do too much rather than too little. It is easy enough to document other Oratories trying to stretch too thin. Thus we have the Oratory of Goa, India, sending Joseph Vaz to Sri Lanka at a time of persecution and in the clothing of a Hindu 196 Review for Religious holy man. There he labors with other Oratorians scattered around the countryside more like clerks regular than sons of St. Philip.14 My own Oratory in South Carolina had members scattered throughout the state during half of its history and only recently and with great difficulty has been able to return all of the mem-bers to a community life.Is During the time of St. Philip, the Oratory took on dependent missions for a while until St. Philip and the community abruptly called a halt to this development.Is So it is Oratorian to push the Oratory to the extreme and perhaps beyond. It is also Oratorian to eventually return to saner limits and the grace of a life closer to the original charism. 2. The Preference for Obscurity If Newman's acceptance of the rectorship pushed the Oratorian charism beyond limits, his fidelity to an Oratorian voca-tion is demonstrated by his resistance to a classic temptation against the life to which he believed God called him. The asceti-cism of the Oratory is a rigorous egalitarianism. Each member has one vote and all are equal and most aspects of the life are governed by the majority when not regulated by the constitu-tions. It was not uncommon among the best and brightest of St. Philip's followers to leave the Oratory, usually under papal "obe-dience," for higher positions in the church. That St. Philip him-self managed to escape or refuse such offers does not seem to be a grace extended to many of his followers. One of St. Philip's aphorisms was "love to be unknown,''17 but it is a hard saying. And it was a grace extended to Newman. Simply put, when presented with a full-time rectorship of the Irish university, Newman chose the small, obscure Oratory of Birmingham, England.I8 He was consistently resistant to any compromise on this point even though the choice seemed impenetrably obscure to both friends and foes. This disregard for the existence, rights, and potential of the Birmingham Oratory was one of Newman's great crosses. Newman complained, "Me they wish to use--me they wish to detach in every way from my own Fathers.''19 Separating an Oratorian from his community has not always been difficult, and there is evidence to indicate that some of these peo-ple thought they were doing Newman a favor by trying to detach him from the Oratory. Another fear of Newman's was the bad effect an absent provost would have on attracting new members to the Birmingham Oratory. This made the arrangement with the March-April 1992 197 university and Archbishop Cullen finally untenable.2° From inside the Oratory, the sacrifice of an outside position seems to be the heart of a vocation that embraces the asceticism of simply being one among many. 3. Maintaining the Preference for Laity The University episode also exemplifies another Oratorian principle, the importance of laicity to church and Oratory. As I have said, in the nineteenth century much of the lay character of the Oratory was atrophied. Only the little Oratory existed in some places and in some forms. Within some of the Congregations there were lay members or "brothers," for want of a better word, but as in most societies defined as congregations of priests, these brothers had no vote and seniority depended on holy orders first and seminary status second; only third came the brothers, who followed the youngest seminarians. But at a time when brothers in clerical communities of priests were treated as second-class members and even much like servants, Newman wrote to the act-ing superior of Birmingham the following directive: I am somewhat pained, my dear Edward, to hear you speak of us as 'Gentlemen--' We are not Gentlemen in con-tradistinction to the Brothers--they are Gentlemen too, by which 1 mean, not only a Catholic, but a polished refined Catholic. The Brothers are our equals . The Father is above the Brothers sacerdotally--but in the Oratory they are equal2~ This is indeed the spirit of St. Philip, whose esteem for the lay members of the congregation as well as of the religious orders was well known. But making this point about equality is still a struggle today within the congregations. In my opinion, if you ask many Oratorians what the Oratory is, they will simply say that it is a community of priests, without communicating at all the possibility of full lay membership and, since the Second Vatican Council, full voting rights. Newman's second contribution as an Oratorian to laicity was his emphasis on the secular Oratory or the Oratory as a lay move-ment. The revival of the secular or Little Oratory was "more important than anything else," at least in his own eyes. He real-ized that this was not a burning isst.e among the other Oratories, but he himself believed that, if the secular Oratory was not estab-lished, then the Congregation of the Oratory should be consid- 198 Review for Religious ered a faih~re.22 It was, as I said, for the secular Oratory that Newman wrote the lectures now called The Present Position of Catholics, and it is this volume I would call Newman's literary con-tribution to laicity. Perhaps Newman would agree with me, as he believed it in his old age to be his "best written book.''23 It is at any rate, in the opinion of Ian Ker, a popular, even Dickens-like piece of wit and rhetoric introducing the grander themes later developed in his explorations of the nature of a university.24 And, finally, it must be noted that for Newman laity meant men and women. Women had not been his-torically part of the secular Oratory, and so he petitioned Rome for a secular Oratory for women. Even though it did not develop, the rescript obtained estab-lished a new precedent.2s It was this regard for laity as essential to the religious enterprise of the Oratory that informs Newman's Idea of a University, where laicity is central to the educational enterprise. In my reckoning, this is his third contribution to laicity, but probably the best-known outside the Oratory. Newman believed that it was his struggle to appoint a lay vice-rector, to define the university as the province of the laity, and to develop self-moti-vated students with a minimum of authority which led to the ruin of the project.26 It was such "dreadful jealousy of the laity," Newman also believed, which led to the rejection of another planned Oratory at another university, this time no less than Oxford itself.27 Secularity and laicity, principles at the heart of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri, made it impossible for Newman to spread the congregation when both such principles were feared and rejected by church officials who felt the church to be under siege. That the ability to act and to be respectful of church author-ity were compatible seems to be exemplified in the life of the very independent personality Philip Neri. But, when Newman wished to prove the principle by anecdote, he very cleverly chose the most authoritarian of religious societies, the Jesuits, to make his point: "Nothing great or living can be done except when men are self governed and independent: this is quite consistent with a full maintenance of ecclesiastical supremacy. St. Francis Xavier wrote Regard for the laity as essential to the religious enterprise of the Oratory informs Newman's Idea of a University. March-April 1992 199 to St. Ignatius on his knees; but who will say that St. Francis was not a real center of action?''-'s 4. Preference for the Local Culture Around an Oratory Besides preserving laicity, Newman desired also to preserve English culture within the Roman Catholic Church. St. Philip Neri's emphasis on autonomous houses or congregations was rooted in his belief that each locale had its own culture and that the needs of the place had to be met through this culture. There could be nothing more contrary to the spirit of the Oratory than for any of the congregations to see themselves as the importers of foreign customs. The Italian devotionalism of such an Oratorian figure as the famous Father Frederick Faber of London was really a misguided attempt to re-create not only another culture but also another time. Ironically, the culture and time chosen by Faber was the Baroque era--when the Oratory was spreading through Europe, but a century later than Philip's own time and work. The extravagances of Faber and some other members of the London Oratory would not have been as effective as they were without the backing of the Dublin Review (seen to be the voice of London's Archbishop Manning)29 and W.G. Ward. When Newman had a chance to defend Roman Catholicism against some charges of his old Anglican friend E.B. Pusey, there was also the possibility of distancing that same Catholicism from the foreign enthusiasm of converts like Manning, Ward, and Faber. Newman could declare: "I prefer English habits of belief and devotion to foreign, from the same causes, and by the same right, which jus-tifies foreigners in preferring their own. In following those of my people, I show less singularity, and create less disturbance than if I made a flourish with what is novel and exotic.''3° "What is novel and exotic" to many English Catholics was for the London Oratory the true renewal of Catholicism and of the Congregation of the Oratory at the same time. Father Bernard Dalgairns left the Birmingham Oratory for the London house with a condemnation of Newman and his fellow members who had adopted a position paper which has been called an "Apologia pro vita sua--Oratoriana." 3~ Newman had insisted earlier that an Oratory is "the representative of no distant or foreign interest, but lives a~nong and is contented with its own people.''~-~ The con-troversy with Dalgairns assisted the Birmingham house in defin-ing itself against the London clai~n to be normative)3 200 Review for Religious Birmingham did not issue a counterclaim as the true measure of Oratorian life, but it did insist that its own very English adap-tation to education and culture in its own time and place was cer-tainly an authentic version of Oratorian life. The Idea of a University, with its marvelous panegyric of St. Philip Neri, is the public version of these private Oratory position papers which were worked on at the same time. In short, the Birmingham com-munity saw the idea of the Oratory and the idea of the university as complementary and consistent with each other. That authority within another Oratory, authority in the English Catholic hier-archy, and authority in Rome saw this as dangerous eventually prevented Newman from a university ministry and the founding of two Oratories, the one in Dublin, the other in Oxford. If he had not been thwarted--we can ask not only what effect this would have had on the Catholic Church's presence in higher education, but also what kind of model the Oratory would have become for that presence. ~. Fidelity to One Place and Community If Newman's devotion to the Oratory as a humanistic Christian community making the best of its own time and place cost him considerable loss of influence, it also explains why Newman was always hoisted between the limitations of the local hierarchy and Roman authority. As small as an Oratory usually is, it is nevertheless a community of pontifical right. But, because the members never move out of this small community, it is inti-mately involved in the local church and becomes specially related to the bishop. This arrangement was meant to allow the Oratory to serve both worlds best, but it also means that the Oratory is vulnerable to the worst of both. And it was the worst that Newman often had to suffer. Suffering at the hands of both local officials and Curial bureaucrats was the fate of the Oratory's founder, St. Philip Neri, but it took Newman some time to realize that such was his own unavoidable fate.34 In 1856 he could be sanguine about Roman love of an English house of St. Philip ("Be sure," he wrote, "that, if we are really doing work, Rome will never be hard on us, even if we are informal, imprudent, or arbitrary").35 By the 1860s he had suffered enough to be afraid of Rome calling him to the Curia for trial of his opinions and judgments. He was so afraid that he considered such a prospect as the threat of death.36 The March-April 1992 201 bishop of Birmingham was of no help in the face of Roman threats. Newinan wrote privately in 1867 that Ullathorne "wishes to be kind to me, but to stand well with people at Rome super-sedes in his mind every other wish. So he is a coward.''37 We can be considerably grateful that the insight into the abuses of church power led him to write in 1877 the great preface to the ¼"a Media in which he developed a theology of abuses in the church. He asks us to contemplate the implications of Matthew 13 and to choose the complexities and shortcomings of a world church rather than the narrow confines and perfection of a sect. That is, for the sake of Catholicity, we must realize that sanctity will not always be an equally prominent mark of the church.3s Conclusion The burden of this short paper has been to indicate some areas where Newman cannot be completely understood without a direct reference to the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. I would say several areas have been directly touched on. First, there is the mystery Why Birmingham? Why would such a talented person remain faithful to this city when he had been born in London and had adopted Oxford and its university? If living in Birmingham is of any consequence in understanding the mystery of Newman, then only the Oratory suffices for an explanation. Newman consciously rejected the London option because his absence from Birmingham would have been the death of a community wishing to live around him.39 And it is within the mystery of a providence that settled the Oratory in Birmingham that we have the mystery of Newman's fidelity to St. Philip, a fidelity which certainly shaped the field of Newman's activities which we have now inherited. Secondly, knowing the Oratory helps us understand how Newman was able to function as pastor and theologian. He had no official standing in a seminary or a university, and his membership in the Oratory cut him off from preferments in the diocese. Yet, despite the fragility of the Oratory and Newman's vulnerability to his enemies with real power bases, he was able to accomplish much. As a pastor he was perpetually available to a local people, and as a teacher he could, in the Congregation, exercise his tal-ents and find reinforcement of his values. Thirdly, the prophetic stands which he brought to the Roman 202 Review for Religious Catholic Church found a congenial place within the tradition of Philip Neri and the Oratory. Laicity, education, and culture were not feared in the Oratory, but promoted. Certainly the Oratory could accommodate the interests of such a person as Newman, and this I think says a lot for the Oratory. Finally, the Oratory provided an emotional complementarity for Newman. Newman had written that he had "never liked a large Oratory. Twelve working priests has been the limit of my ambition. One cannot love many at one time; one cannot really have many friends.''4° The rather intimate expression of this is found in the well-known conclusion to the Apologia, but I would beg an indulgence to cite a lesser-known example found in Meriol Trevor's Life. Late in life some parishioners brought Newman a portrait of himself as a gift to the Birmingham Oratory. Newman replied to them in these words: You ask for my blessing and I bless you with all my heart, as I desire to be blessed myself. Each one of us has his own individuality, his separate history, his antecedents and his future, his duties, his responsibilities, his solemn trial, and his eternity. May God's grace, His love, His peace rest on all of you, united as you are in the Oratory of St. Philip, on old and young, on confessors and penitents, on teachers and taught, on living and dead. Apart from that grace, that love, that peace, nothing is stable, all things have an end; but the earth will last its time, and while the earth lasts, Holy Church will last, and while the Church lasts, may the Oratory of Birmingham last also, amid the fortunes of many generations one and the same, faithful to St Philip, strong in the protection of our Lady and all Saints, not losing as time goes on its sympathy with its first fathers, whatever may be the burden and interests of its own day, as we in turn now stretch forth our hands with love and awe towards those, our unborn successors, whom on earth we shall never kFIow.41 From the Oratory of Birmingham, England, Newman gives a blessing because he believed his life as an Oratorian was itself a blessing. For this reason the Oratory might merit a considera-tion when we think of Newman and what it cost him to be a Catholic and what it was like for him to rejoice as an old man after a long time not only in the Catholic Church but in the Oratory of St. Philip Neri. March-April 1992 203 Notes ~ NewInan's classical exposition of this is found in University Sermons, vol. 5, pp. 75-98, and elucidated very well by Stephen Dessain in The Spirituality offfobn Henry Newman (Minneapolis, 1977), pp. 31-55. But see this theme repeated in an Oratorian context in Newman's Oratory Paper No. 6 in Placid Murray, Newman the Oratorian (Leominster, England, 1968), pp. 215-216. -' For the documentation of the constitutional development of the Congregation, see Antonius Cistellini CO, Collectanea Vetustorum ac Fundamentalium Documentorum Congregationis Oratorii Sancti Philippi Nerii (Brescia, 1982). ~ The more detailed history of this development can be found in Louis Ponnelle and Louis Border, St. Philip Neri and the Roman Society of His Times (London, 1932), pp. 166-173. 4 Idea, Discourse 9, no. 9. ~ Ponnelle and Bordet, pp. 287-381. 6 Erasmus, Ep. 164, in Opus epistolarum Des. Erasmii Roterodami, ed. P. S. Allen, H.M. Allen, and H.W. Garrod (Oxford, 1906-08), quoted in Eugene Rice Jr., Saint Jerome in the Renaissance (Baltimore, 1985), p. 133. 7 Rice, p. 133. 8 The 1969 Constitutions of the Congregation read in no. 15: "The Congregation follows the primitive Christian community that its char-acteristic power consists not in the multitude of its members, but rather in mutual knowledge--so that there may be a regard for the well-known faces--and in the true bond of love, by which those of the same family may be bound together through the practice of daily customs." See Newman the Oratorian, p. 329, for Newman's familiarity with the con-cept of well-known faces or countenances. ~ Prepos., p. 388. ~o Autobiographical Vt~ritings (AI/V), p. 281. 11AW, p. 286. ~2 Ian Ker, John Henry Newman (Oxford, 1988), p. 433. 13 Letters and Diaries (LD), vol. 14, p. 377. ~4 See S.G. Perera SJ, Life of the Venerable Father Joseph Uaz, Apostle of Ceylon (Galle, 1953). Newman indicates a long-standing knowledge of this special case in a letter written in 1867. ~s There is no history written of this first of the Oratories in the United States, and the archives of the house are very sketchy. There is no written rationale of the house for the scattering of the members, but some effort was made to rotate them back to Rock Hill if they were some distance away. There is an article describing the Rock Hill house written by Edward YVahl, one of the earlier members, in Oratorium, Ann. III, S.I-N. 1, Ian-Iun. 1972, pp. 23-32. ~' Ponnelle and Bordet, pp. 471-474. 204 Review for Religious 17 E A. Agnelli, The Excellencies of the Congregation of the Oratory of St. Philip Neri (Venice, 1825), translated and abridged by F.A. Antrobus, London 1881, chapter 1, section V. is LD, vol. 18, pp. 478,483. 19 LD, vol. 17, p. 447. '-OLD, vol. 18, pp. 114-115. z1 LD, vol. 16, p. 267. 22 LD, vol. 14, p. 274. ,~3 LD, vol. 26, p. 115. 24 Ker, pp. 365-372. 25 LD, vol. 17, p. 137. See Newman the Oratorian, p. 311, for his appre-ciation of the Oratory and women. 26 A~17~ p. 327. 27 LD, vol. 21, p. 327. 28LD, vol. 21, p. 331. ~'9 Ker, p. 579. 3o DiffT, ii, pp. 20-21. 31 Placid Murphy calls these papers another apologia (Newman the Oratoria~l, p. 299). -~'~ Newman the Oratorian, p. 196. 33 Newman the Oratorian, p. 358. 34 The 1848 paper in Newman the Oratorian lists the persecutions Philip suffered (see p. 163). In 1862 he can compare his troubles to the founder's (see AW, pp. 256-257). 35 LD, vol. 17, p. 151. 36 LD, vol. 20, pp. 445-448. ~7 LD, vol. 23, p. 296. 38 See R. Bergeron, LesAbus de L'~glise d'apr& Newman (Paris, 1971), and the annotated edition of Newman's ~a Media (Oxford, 1990), ed. H.D. Weidner. 39 LD, vol. 13, pp. 51-52. 40 Newman the Oratorian. p. 387. 4~ Meriol Trevor, Newman, Light in I:Vinter (New York, 1962), p. 582. March-April 1992 205 DENNIS J. BILLY The Resurrection Kernel theology and spirituality Is there a fundamental principle of the resurrection? The answer to this question depends on the way in which one understands the relationship of history to the reality of the risen Christ. This relationship, in turn, depends on the stance one takes towards the possibility of a transhistorical event and the type of impact it would have on the continuities and discontinuities of historical change. However understood, the impact itself would have vast ramifications for the whole of theology. Resurrection: Distinguishing Idea from Reality At the outset, it may be helpful to distinguish between resurrection (1) as a particular item in the history of ideas and (2) as the reality experienced among the earliest fol-lowers of Christ. The former may be separated from the viewpoint of faith, compared with other ideas about the nature of the afterlife, and evaluated on a rational basis for its various strengths and weaknesses as a viable expla-nation of the nature of life after death. As a transhistori-cal event with historical consequences, the latter is intricately bound to the faith of the primitive Christian community and cannot be studied in such a detached, ana- Dennis J. Billy CSSR continues his reflections on various cen-tral tenets of our faith and their relationship to the vowed life of religious. His address is Accademia Alfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome, Italy. 206 Review for Religious lyrical manner. Any effort to formulate a fundamental principle of the resurrection must be careful to take both sides of this dis-tinction into account. The Idea of Resurrection. A well-grounded discussion of an idea should begin with an attempt to identify its most distinctive char-acteristics. With respect to its general mean-ing, one could accurately describe the term "resurrection" as a belief common among Christians that, at some point after death, an individual is transformed by the power of the Divinity on every level of his or her anthro-pological makeup--the corporeal, the psy-chological, the spiritual, and the social--and thus raised to a higher level of human exis-tence in a way that always remains in funda-mental continuity with his or her historical, earthly life. The most distinctive marks in this short yet exact account of the idea of resurrection include: (1) personal life after death, (2) in a The idea of resurrection alone safeguards the inviolate dignity of each human being on every level of existence. transformed state, (3) embracing all the anthropological factors of human existence, and (4) in a way continuous with an individual's concrete, earthly life. Each of these elements is essential to the idea of resurrection as it is used in this essay and as it exists in the major Christian traditions. These characteristics also set the idea of resurrection apart from the related idea of bodily resuscitation (for example, the raising of Lazarus, Jn 11:44), as well as from the other major philosophical and religious explanations of the nature of life in the hereafter (for example, the immortality of the soul, reincar-nation, nirvana). When these are compared, the idea of resur-rection distinguishes itselfi (1) from bodily resuscitation, in its emphasis on a transformed existence in life after death; (2) from the immortality of the soul, in its inclusion of all of humanity's anthropological factors in the nature of that existence; (3) from reincarnation, in its rupture of the cycle of time and its insistence on the fundamental continuity of life in the hereafter with a per-son's earthly existence; and (4) from nirvana, in its avowal that final beatitude does not involve the extinction of individual con-sciousness. The greatest strength of the idea of resurrection is March-April 1992 207 that, of all of the ideas about the nature of life after death, it alone safeguards the inviolate dignity of each human being on every level of his or her existence. That is to say that it alone keeps human nature eternally intact while, at the same time, saving the individual from ultimate personal extinction. Its greatest weak-ness is that, in representing the fulfillment of one of the deepest and most profound hopes of the human heart, it seems almost too good to be true, an attractive but highly unlikely possibility. For this reason, of all the ideas of life in the hereafter, resurrec-tion is the one most difficult to accept on the simple basis of faith. The Reality of the Resurrection. Rooted in the hopes of Jewish apoc-alypticism during the centuries just prior to the appearance of Christ, and promulgated during Jesus' own lifetime by the reli-gious elite known as the Pharisees, the idea of resurrection devel-oped to its present form as a result of theological reflection on the nature of the Christ event, most especially in the primitive Christian community's interpretation of the meaning of the apos-tolic experience of the risen Lord. This reflection is intimately tied to the trust that community placed in the validity of the apos-tolic witness and to the experience of faith upon which it rested. It is also the context within which one may speak of the resur-rection not as an idea, but as a reality and a hope. \Vhat precisely happened on the first Easter morning remains shrouded by the subjective awareness of the earliest followers of Jesus. That awareness probably ran the gamut of several emo-tional states--from depression and fear, to suspicion and isola-tion, to incipient faith and the lingering yearning for the retrieval of lost expectations--and most likely varied in each of the persons involved. That is not to say that the event had no basis outside the experience of Jesus' followers, but only that there is no way to determine what it is with any accuracy. It is for this reason that, down through the centuries, the Easter event remains primarily an experience of faith in the lives of Jesus' followers. A distinction must still be made, however, between the faith of those who witnessed the Easter event personally and those whose faith relies on the testimony of the apostles. The procla-mation of the church rests upon the eyewitness accounts of the apostles, that is, on those who made the startling claim to have experienced for themselves the reality of the risen Lord. Their experience of faith remains qualitatively different from that of 208 Review for Religious the believer in the pew, for they claim to have experienced a real-ity outside of themselves, rooted in the objective order, distinct from their own subjectivity, and identified with the person of their Master, Jesus of Nazareth. Without the unprecedented bold-ness and resiliency of these claims, the Christian project would have nothing distinctive in its message and probably would never have gotten off the ground. These apostolic claims emerge from one of two possibilities: the experience of the risen Christ was with or without a basis in the person of Jesus in the external order. That is to say that the experience of the apostles corresponds to a reality outside of themselves or remains entirely subjective in all respects. If the former is true, then the further question must be asked regarding the nature of this basis in the external order. If the latter be true, then the only conclusion to be drawn is that the apostles suffered from self-delusion, that their testimony is false, as is the religion to which it gave rise. The fact that neither of these possibilities can be proven highlights the underlying quality of faith inherent in the conclusions of both the believer and non-believer alike. Still more can be said about the position of the believer. If the apostolic experience of the risen Christ does have an external basis in the person of Jesus, then this affirmation, when combined with the idea of resurrection developed earlier in this essay, nec-essarily points to an event of singular historical significance. Indeed, this event could be measured by the instruments of his-torical observation only by its effects (for example, a missing body) and, for this reason, must be placed in a category unique to itself and understood as a transhistorical event with historical conse-quences. This is so precisely because the risen Christ, existing in a transformed state but in a way continuous with his earthly life, does not lead "a historical existence" in the way in which the phrase is commonly used. That is to say that space and time no longer set the limits for his physical existence. In his resurrected state, Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, a singular dimension unique unto himself, who recapitulates, both now and forever, all The Easter event remains primarily an experience of faith in the lives of lesus" followers. March-April 1992 209 of creation within himself, into the love of the Father and the joy of their Spirit. The Resurrection Kernel From all that has been said, a sound formulation of the fun-damental principle of the resurrection (the resurrection kernel) would consist in the affirmation of faith that the idea of resur-rection has become a reality in the risen Christ. This reality is rooted in the transhistorical nature of the Christ event, whose historical consequences linger even to this day in the ongoing proclamation of the church. Based on the testimony of its apos-tolic forebears, the church has, in its ministry down through the centuries, kept alive for humanity the fervent hope that the deep-est yearnings of the human heart will one day be fully realized. That is to say that the transformation wrought by God in Christ promises to extend itself to all who are incorporated into his body, the church. In this respect, a sharing in the life of the risen Lord may be looked upon as the ultimate destiny of all of humankind and will be impeded only by a stubborn individual or corporate persistence in the life of sin. Given the above formulation, a number of important obser-vations arise: (1) To affirm that an idea has become a reality is to utilize the well-known philosophical distinction between the internal (that is, subjective) and external (that is, objective) orders. The limitations of this distinction are well known, and care must be taken not to stretch the analogy beyond its avowed usefulness. Indeed, special care must be taken not to project the concerns of the so-called critical problem back to a time before its signifi-cance was entirely known. (2) God the Father is the primary agent in bringing about this realization in Christ. Since idea and reality are intimately connected in the Divinity's vision of itself, the resurrection of Christ may be viewed as a providential movement on the part of the Father to bring the plan of redemption in accord with the working of the Divine Mind, that is, the Logos. In this respect, Christ's resurrection is that event which, touching upon history but transcending time, initiates the ultimate return of all created things back to God. (3) This view of Christ's resurrection also sheds light upon 210 Review for Religious the development in the early church of the doctrine of the incar-nation. If it is true that, in Christ's resurrection, flesh has been divinized and lifted up into the reality of the Word, it follows that, at some point prior to this momentous occasion, the Word itself had descended into the reality of human flesh and had become a human person. Putting aside for the moment the vari-ous intricacies involved in discussing the Christological contro-versies in the early centuries of the church, it seems quite appropriate to say that the doctrines of Christ's incarnation and resurrection form two aspects of a single salvific event which, if one were to borrow the Neoplatonic exitus/reditus structure adopted by Aquinas, represents the recreatio,z of all things going out of (exitus) and going back (reditus) to God. It is in this sense that all things are recapitulated in Christ, the New Adam. (4) As described above, the resurrection is not merely the state of Christ's postmortem existence, but an intricate part of the whole process of redemption. If Christ's exitu} from the Father reaches its furthest extension in his passion and death on the cross (described in the Creed as his descent into hell), his reditus is ush-ered in by the events of Easter morning, and his Spirit is the prin-ciple by which all things continue to be gathered into his body and thus into the presence of the Father. (5) As a transhistorical event with historical consequences, the resurrection of Christ exists outside of but in relation to the realm of historical inquiry. In this regard, it lies beyond the realm of scientific investigation and can be affirmed only through faith in the testimony of those claiming to have actually experienced Jesus after his death. That is not to say that the apostles did not experience outside of themselves in the exter-nal order, but only that the basis for their experience cannot be verified. (6) Indeed, probably the only historical consequence of mea-surable scientific value would have been the disappearance of Jesus' body at the actual moment of his resurrection. Since the precise whereabouts of the body was a point of contention even in the initial aftermath of the Easter proclamation (Mt 28:13), one must conclude that, although its disappearance could have been verified, if not scientifically, then at least through pagan eyewitness accounts, it obviously was not. (7) On all other points, the detached observer would not be able to separate the subjective experience of the apostles from March-April 1992 211 the reality of the risen Christ. There would, in other words, have been no way of determining whether or not they were actually experiencing anything beyond their own intensified inner aware-ness. The singularity of this experience would be expected if a transhistorical event were to occur and be experienced in its his-torical consequences. (8) To the extent that it is not based on direct experience but on the testimony of others, the faith of the church is qualitatively different from the faith of the apostles. Not only does it point to the conviction of those who claimed to have experienced the risen Lord, but, in one respect, it is even a purer experience of faith: "Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe" (Jn 20:29). (9) Belief in the risen Christ keeps alive in people the hope that, after death, their lives will not end, but merely change. Because of Christ's resurrection, they look forward to a trans-formed existence in the hereafter, one in continuity with their own lives on earth. Sustained by a believer's prayerful response to the contetnporary challenges of Christian discipleship, this hope forms the basis upon which life in the resurrection is anticipated even in the present. (10) Through their participation in the ministry and life of the church, people receive a foretaste of this transformed exis-tence, especially when they partake of the sacraments around the table of the Lord. It was at the Eucharist where Jesus' disciples recognized him in the breaking of the bread (Lk 24:30). It is there where Christians, even to this day, gather to do the same. This is especially true for those who dedicate their lives to Christ through the following of the evangelical counsels. Religious and the Resurrection In their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, religious strive to center their lives upon the reality of the risen Christ. They seek to do so by virtue of their firtn conviction that they are called to share in the life of the resurrection by making the idea of the vows a lived reality in their day-to-day existence. Christ, who exhibited both before and after his resurrection a life dedicated to the Father through the eschatological signs of the evangelical counsels, asks religious to do the same. The strength to do so comes from Christ and is mediated by his Spirit through his church and its ministry of the sacraments. While such dedi- 212 Review for Religious cation is never fully realized in the present, religious are called to imitate Christ throughout their entire lives. It is for this reason that, at the end of their earthly lives, they hope to share in the full-ness of his transformed existence. In their vowed life in common, religious pledge to give them-selves over entirely to the life of the risen Lord. In their vow of poverty, they seek both physical and spiritual detachment from material goods, doing so not out of a suspicion about the fundamental good-ness of creation, but from the convic-tion that it too will undergo a transformation in the fullness of Christ's kingdom. In their vow of chastity, they promise to forgo the goods of marriage, children, and sexual pleasure, thereby accepting Christ's Gospel declaration that there will be neither husband nor wife in the life to come (Lk 20:35) and that, even in the realm of relationships, all who abide in him will live a trans-formed existence. In their vow of obe-dience, they promise to accept the will of their superiors as a manifestation of God's plan for their lives, thus hoping to estab-lish within themselves a continual movement of accord between their own wills and that of the their risen Lord. Finally, in their communal existence, they hold each other accountable for the way of life they have chosen and seek to reflect in their mutual relations that dignity and care appropriate to those who are called to be members of Christ's body. By means of their individual and communal dedication to the evangelical counsels, it is clear that religious seek, even in this present life, a deeper share in the life of the resurrection. Through their vowed life in community, religious thus provide a faithful witness for themselves, the rest of the church, and the entire world that the idea of resurrection has not only been made a reality in Christ but that it is striving, at this very moment, to be realized in the lives of those who believe. In this respect, their witness affirms the movement of Christ's Spirit in the life of the church and provides a foretaste of the life to come. That is not to say that religious embody this charismatic dimension of the church better or more faithfully than any of the other vocations within the Belief in the risen Christ keeps alive in people the hope that, after death, their lives will not end, but merely change. March-April 1992 213 church (for example: single, married, priestly states), but only that their way of life is especially suited to it. Of its very nature, the religious life forIns a part of the charismatic dimension of the church. Indeed, to the extent that religious communities do not manifest to both others and themselves the gentle yet challenging presence of the Spirit, they fall short of the explicit nature of their call to center their lives entirely around the reality of the risen Christ. He it was who first imparted the Holy Spirit to his body, the church. He it is who continues to do so even to the present day. Through their faithfulness to the vows, lived in community and in the Spirit, religious seek mainly to nourish their relation-ship with the risen Christ. This personal relationship to the Lord motivates all of their activity for the establishment of God's king-dom; it is also what draws others to follow their particular way of life. Indeed, the care with which they tend this relationship is itself a sign that the reality of Christ's resurrection is meant for all to share and experience in all its fullness. In this respect, reli-gious must be ever conscious that their vowed life in common has little meaning if it is separated from life in the Spirit of the risen Christ and seen as an end in itself. To be sure, there is noth-ing sadder in the life of the church than to see individual reli-gious and, at times, entire communities lose sight of the meaning of their vocation. When people of such great promise and poten-tial compromise themselves and begin to believe that the Spirit is no longer active in their lives and that things will never change for the better, when men and women, who are called to be signs of hope, begin to believe in the voices of hopelessness, then the time is ripe for a prophet to arise within their midst to challenge them to come back to the Lord and to live the life to which they have been called. At the same time, there is nothing more joyful in the life of the church than to see men and women who, out of love for their Lord, renounce the very things for which they most actually strive during their sojourn on earth. To live in poverty, without children or spouse, and without full personal liberty provides oth-ers with the constantly needed reminder that the fullness of riches, family life, and freedom is ultimately found only in one's rela-tionship to him whom the apostles acclaimed to be truly risen. 214 Review for Religious Conclusion This essay has sought to outline the basic, underlying principle of the Christian doctrine of the resurrection. It has done so, on the one hand, by describing in as precise detail as possible the mean-ing of the idea of resurrection as under-stood in the church's teaching and, on the other hand, by looking into some of the fundamental presuppositions regarding the resurrection of Christ as experienced by his earliest followers. Bringing these two currents of inquiry together, the funda-mental principle of the resurrection (the resurrection kernel) was described as the affirmation of faith that the idea of resur-rection has become a reality in the risen Christ. Seen as a transhistorical event with historical consequences, the acclaimed res-urrection of Jesus of Nazareth lies, for all practical purposes, beyond the scope of scientific verification and remains inti- Through their faithfulness to the vows, lived in community and in the Spirit, religious seek mainly to nourish their relationship with the risen Christ. mately tied to the internal, subjective event of faith to which it gave life. That is not to say that Jesus' resurrection has no ground in the external order, but only that it ultimately lies beyond the scope of controlled observation. In this respect, the faith experi-ence of those who experienced the risen Lord is qualitatively dif-ferent from that of those whose faith rests upon their testimony. Blessed precisely because they believe without seeing, today's believers share in the hope of their own transformed existence which, through their experience of the Spirit in the church com-munity of the faithful, may be experienced even now in the quiet anticipation of the fullness of a reality yet to come. They bring their hearts' deepest yearning for the fullest presence of the risen Christ to the table of the Lord, where they are blessed with a glimpse of

Issue 47.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1988. ; 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 edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Sept./Oct. 1988 Volume 47 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~.wEw EOR R~.LtGWOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW ~o~t REI.IGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Social Dimensions of Religious Ministry Joseph P. Daoust, S.J. This is a slightly revised version of Father Daoust's well-received address on August 13, 1986, to the thirtieth national assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. He has been his province's assistant for social ministries and higher educa-tion. At present he is on sabbatical in Africa and Asia and has no fixed residence, but he may be addressed at Jesuit Provincial Office; 7303 W. Seven Mile Road; De-troit, Michigan 48221. In a terrifying image of where our civilization is leading us, a prominent Italian writer envisions Western 'man (and woman) becoming like an earth-worm: a simple organism having only mouth, intestines, and anus, do-ing nothing but ingesting, digesting, excreting. ! It is an image of pro-ducing in order to consume, and consuming mindlessly in order to move what has been produced through our societal '.~'gut." Any kind of con-sumption will do, just as the earthworm moves any kind of soil through its intestinal tube. Indeed, that is how the earthworm (and Homo con-sumens) moves ahead in dark, dank, endless underground burrows-- consuming, producing, excreting. When indigestion sets in because of overproduction, war serves as a purgative,°consuming the detritus of ex-cess lives and goods, relieving the constipation of our maniacally pro-ducing and consuming system. Such is one vision of what we are doing to ourselves as a society. There is another vision of what society can become: [God] will reign over many peoples and arbitrate for mighty nations; and they shall beat their swords into pl6wshares,.and their spears into prun-ing hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more. But they shall sit, everyone under his vine and un- 641 649 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 der his fig tree, and none, shall make them afraid; for the mo~th of the Lord of hosts has spoken it (Mi 4:3-4). In this vision, peace comes when each peasant has enough of the earth's goods for simple sustenance and can sit in quiet contemplation of the goodness of a just and beautiful world. All of this is achieved by learning God's ways and walking in God's path.2 Neither of these visions is fully realized in our world today. There are forces at work leading toward the first; the Spirit of God continues the age-old struggle to draw us toward the second. We are called as citi-zens of this age, as Christians, as religious, to invest our lives in help-ing our society make the ancient Deuteronomic choice: "I set before you life or death, blessing or curse. Choose life, then, so that you and your descendants may live" (Dr 30:19). Life is what the reign of God would bring about in our midst; the flowering of a society of justice and peace. The reign of God has profound social consequences. Justice and God's Reign: Scriptural Considerations in Scripture the reign of God is inextricably linked with social trans-formation. When Israel came to know Yahweh, it was as a God who heard their groaning in slavery and delivered them out of bondage (Dt 10:18-19). Remembering their own deliverance by God, the Israelites were bound in covenant not to oppress the poor or weak in their midst (Ex 22:21ff.). For Yahweh is a God who hears the cry of the poor (Ps 34:6). Again and.again Yahweh intervened through the prophets to call Israel back to this elemental demand: Is not th'is the sort of religious p?actice that pleases me?--it is thb Lord Yahweh who speaks--to break unjust fetters and Undo the thongs of the yoke, to let'the oppressed go free., to share your bread with the hun-gry and shelter the homeless poor, to clothe the man you see to be na-ked and not turn from your own kin? Then will your light shine like the dawn and your wound be quickly healed over. Your in.tegrity will go be-fore you and the glory of Yahweh behind you (Is.58:6-8; see also 1: 16, 10:1, 42:5). The religions and gods of the ancient Near East were primarily con-cerned with the legitimation of the established order of things3 (a func-tion still all too current today!), Imperial power, divinely ordained class structures, codes of behavior which reinforced "the way things have al-ways been"--these were the trappings of (eligions whose gods could be captured in images, located in certain sacred places, and therefore con-trolled. The divine power was thus subject to purchase (propitiation), Social Dimensions of Ministry / 64:3 able to be administered and routinized so as to support society's estab-lished ways of proceeding. Israel in the Old Testament is constantly tempted to refashion God in controllable images. Royal leaders and wealthy classes are portrayed as the initiators of this "whoring after' other gods" so as to legitimate their oppression, wars, and sumptuous ways. What distinguishes ancient Israel from surrounding societies is the constant intrusion of an imageless God, who refuses to dwell in temples or in"gold idols fashioned and controlled by the powerful. Yahweh dwells only ineffably on high, and with the lowly (Is 56: 15). Israel's God is dis-engaged from the ways of worldly power and identifies over and over again with the marginal, the dispossessed in society.'~ Indeed the iden-tity of this imageless God cannot be captured in traditional religious ways, but is expressed only by what Yahweh does--primarily acts of so-cial liberation: I am Yahweh . . . who delivered you from bondage (Ex 20:1), who loves j,ustice (Ps 99:4), who sees justice done for the orphan and widow, who answers the poor and needy (Ps 86:1 ), who chooses the weak (Dt 7:7), who reduces princes to nothing, and annihilates the rulers of the world (Is 40:23). Jesus spends his public ministry extending the good news of God's compassion and reign to all. It was a scandal to his contemporaries that he especially~ included suspect classes (shepherds, publicans, tax collec-tors), social outcasts (lepers, prostitutes, adulterers, Samaritans), and the poor. He went to his death coffsciously assuming the role of the Suffer-ing °Servant of Yahweh, knowing that this was the only way to bring about the reign of his Father. Some sought his death because he reso-lutely presented an unconventional, iconoclastic face of God Ioying the outcast, the db'wntrodden, the poor--"He has blasphemed.'~ Others sought his death because' his proclamation of God's justice threatened the social order.5 The Scriptures, then, portray a God who cares passionately about jus-tice, indeed even a "pain-embracing" God6 who acts in solidarity es-pecially with the oppressed and the marginalized. Christ in his ministry and message seals this revelatioh of God constantly acting in the world so as to bring about its transformation. The Gospels close with Christ risen inviting us down through the ages to "Follow me." Justice and God's Reign: Cultural Considerations Down through the ages the Church has wrestled with that impera- 644 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 tive with varying degrees of success. Like the Israelites of old, the Church is often tempted to replace the radical, transforming call of the Gospel with something more palatable to the cultural and social powers that be. Oppressive divisions of wealth and power, wars to protect these divisions, sumptuous living for some and dire poverty for others--these still need legitimation as of old. The idols which legitimate today are ide-ologies, social and economic theories, materialism and consumerism apo-theosized as a way of life. Idolatry in a literate society is more likely to use words than precious metals to achieve its effects. But religion is still being domesticated so as to legitimate and maintain, rather than confront, these idolized patterns of injustice. One hundred fifty years ago, Alexis de Tocqueville visited America and found our culture and social institutions permeated with a new idea: Individualism is a calm and considered feeling which disposes each citi-zen to isolate himself from the mass of his fellows and withdraw into the circle of family and friends; with this little society formed to his taste, he gladly leaves the greater society to look after itself . They form the habit of thinking of themselves in isolation and imagine that their whole destiny is in their hands . Each man is forever thrown back upon himself alone, and there is danger that he may be shut up in the solitude of his own heart.7 This individualism intersected congruently, then as it does now, with the competitive pursuit of self-interest, defined in terms of material well-being. But de Tocqueville found these social "habits of the heart" coun-terbalanced and modulated by a strong tradition of biblical faith, with its emphasis on self'-sacrifice for the common good, supported by the re-publican virtues of our early democracy: public duty and civic equity. Modern commentators have found these modulating forces to be with-ering, and individualism, competition, and rampant pursuit of material self-interest becoming exclusive social preoccupations.8 Individualism, like any other human creation, has much to recommend it, much human value. But when it becomes absolute, unquestioned, unfettered, it dis-torts and truncates human interaction. Its idolization creates and sustains injustice in society on a mass scale. Recent studies of American life and religious values have shown the distortions that unfettered individualism produces ir~ our cultural patterns of faith and religion.9 Historically., the disestablishment of religion America may have helped compartmentalize religious faith away from public social concerns. But religious individualism has been the moving force for the privatization of religious faith and practice. Social and cul- Social Dimensions of Ministry / 645 tural patterns of our society have been immunized from religious critique or challenge in the faith of many. Religion is felt to deal only with per-sonal or family issues; it intersects with public policy only to challenge it if' it intrudes on these narrow issues. Other social policies and struc-tures, individualism itself, materialism, the competitive economic envi-ronment- all are beyond the competence of religious critique. God and faith have no relevance in the marketplace, the business or political world, or anywhere outside the "soft" inner realm of the personal and the familial. In fact, religion blesses "the way things are" in these secu-lar real-world social settings. It legitimates them and the results they bring about, as effectively as the compartmentalization of religion to tem-ple worship and sacrifices did in ancient Israel, with consequent uncon-cern for the oppressed, the hungry, the poor. Religion is seen culturally by most as an idiosyncratic choice, a strictly personal preference or conviction as to which "brand" each per-son would like to "consume." And American consumers of religion largely choose a faith distorted by cultural forces so as to give them res-pite from social chaos and from a sense of social destiny beyond their control. They do this by retreating inward, to focus on the inner self, or by retreating outward, to externally imposed structure coming, they be-lieve, directly from God. The first of these privatized patterns of religion, the dominant U.S. cultural preference, is the retreat inwards to the inner self. ~0 Personal ex-perience of one's inner self is the one secure basis for religious mean-ing. Self-realization, personal growth, is the highest aspiration. There is a great similarity to the goals and language of psychological therapy. Re-ligious practice is spiritual utilitarianism: "What's in it for me?" Spiri-tual experience is primarily individual and prescinds from the world and its problems. The world and even God are seen in terms of their impact on this inner self. Morality is individualistici commitments to others, to the world, are transient: "s(~ long as it feels right or helps me grow." The Church can be reduced to a kind of spiritual Kiwanis Club or psy-chological. therapy group in the individual's pursuit of self-fulfilling ex-perience. The second pattern of religious individualism is no less privatized. It is more prevalent among the less affluent, or among those whose self-image is not strong enough to found religious meaning there. Faith is placed in sources of meaning external to self and the real world. God speaks from "outside'"the ordinary world (and the inner self), directly giving rules and tenets which, if they are rigidly adhered to, will bring 646 / Review~or Religious, September-October 1988 about salvat.ion of the obedient individuai--there is little hope for the world. Fundamentalist adherence to biblical texts, magistral father fig-ures, or traditions gives meaning and some sense of security in a bewil-dering social Order. Morality is personalistic rather than societal; it deals with interpersonal and family relations in clear, simple answers; it leaves unchallenged the sociocultural setting in which these are played out. The world, society at large, is either beyond question or beyond salvation. In either case, faith has little to say to it. ., Both of.these cultural patterns of religion, therapeutic withdrawal to the inner self and sectarian withdrawal to external structure, are the prod-uct of individualism. It is individualism retreating from confrontation with a chaotic, seemingly uncontrollable social environment. Material-ism, competitive pursuit of self-interest, ruthless power pervade the secu-lar realm of business, politics, the media. Recent rapid shifts in social structures and paradigms destabilize a cultural setting already inhospita-ble to traditional religious values. Individuals, frightened, isolated, pow-erless, withdraw from the imperatives of biblical faith which might re-quire them to confront these social forces to work for the new creation of God's reign. A religion of inner escape or outer control seems to of-fer a haven from the heartless world. But both forms of religion lack the ability to integrate the self and/or God with the surrounding society. Per-sonalized religious experience supplants the "mighty acts of Yahweh" as the basis for belief. And such faith is fragile, fading when the per-sonal experience fades. There is only a faint hold on commitments, to faith itself and to the other-centered giv.ing which builds on faith. Church, rather than being the fundamental sacrament of God's insertion into the world, becomes a community of convenience or of protection from the world. In solipsism or sectarian withdrawal, religion stands apart from worldly matters. It is a pale shadow of robust biblical faith: the faith of a people on mission from a world-transforming God. This description of American religious behavior is not just the way millions.of lay believers of all religious backgrounds practice their faith. These are tidal forces affecting the faith life of all of us as members religious orders and congregations. We are equally tempted to withdraw from the fullness of biblical faith into therapeutic blandness or rigid struc-turalism. We too can live more easily with these idolized forms of relig-ion, which neither do justice nor admit the injustice of such unconcern. Religious life itself can become an enclave for self-realization or secu-rity, safely compartmentalized away from the rigors of God's call and mission to a troubled world wracked by social sin. Which one of us has Social Dimensions of Ministry / 64"/ not felt keenly the longing to huddle, Jonah-like, even in the belly of a whale, rather than face Nineveh? Justice and God's Reign: New Directions But also in our lifetimes as religious, we have witnessed a remark-able movement of God's Spirit. It is transforming the Church and relig-ious life, calling us again to our biblical roots. The God who cares pas-sionately about this world, who hates idols and the injustice they le-gitimate, is neither absent nor sitting quietly in a culturally designed com-partment. Embracing the pain of the poor and the marginalized, God broods over our bent world "with warm breast and with ah! bright wings." ~ In Vatican II, the Church chose to position itself as a people in serv-ice to the world, seeking to transform it in the biblical image of God's justice. ~- The 197 ! Synod of Bishops specified this further: J~stice and participation in the transforming of the world fully appear to us ~s 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 (Justice in the World, no. 6). The social teaching of the Church has gone~ beyond a reformist long-ing for organic, static society. In ,.magisterial teaching and theological de-velopment there is the commitment to struggle for and with the margi-nhlized to achieve justice. The spiritual is not compartmentalized from the affai'rs of this world, but integrated as a critical, driving force to shape '~'a new earth where justice will abide.''~3 In'theory and in prac-tice, from Medellin to the Philippines, in our inner cities and in recent pastoral letters of U.S. Bishops, we have witnessed the Church exercis-ing the ancient 'special love of Yahweh for the poor. ~4 Our challenging mission is newly clear, as are the many social forces which oppose it. It is the mission of our "pain-embracing" God, it is the mission of Christ see~king the reign of God.' It is fresh and new in our age, and as old as the prophets: "This is wfiat Yahweh asks of you, only this: to act justly, to love tenderly, and to walk humbly with your God" (Mi 6:8). What Justice Requires But what does it mean to do justice'? or to transform the world? or change social structures? The justice which flows :from faith in Yahweh has a dynamic, trans- 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 formative quality. Subtle philosophical distinctions may be appropriate for impartial, uninvolved observers. But there is a simplicity and stark-ness to biblical justice questions, which are raised in God's name from peasants (Amos, Micah), slaves (Moses), and exiles. ~5 The royal circles of Egypt, Jerusalem, or Rome are preoccupied with questions of pros-perity (how to get more) or security (how to keep it). The prophetic voices from below demand that freedom, sustenance, places of dignity in the community be given (back) to every one Of God's chosen people. Everyone has a right to these goods, as a birthright from God who cre-ated and gave them all to the community in the ~fi~:st place. God will act to make things right again if those in power will not listen. The primary expectation of God from Israel is the doing of justice, in this sense sharing with or restoration to those on the margin of society: the widow, the orphan, the stranger, the poor. Every other ethical norm or covenan-tal requirement flows from this reading of social reality. There is to be a redistribution of social power and goods to achieve a society where all can sit under their own vine and fig tree, with no one to trouble them. Or as gentle Mary puts it in Luke: "[God] has pulled down princes from their thrones and exalted the lowly. The hungry he has filled, with good things, the rich sent empty away" (Lk 1:52-53). The pastoral letter of the U.S. bishops, Economic Justice for All, contains an eloquent articu-lation of what justice requires in our times. The scriptural section of that letter is especially worth meditating upon, to touch i'nto our faith as the force which moves us to justice. The religious reality described there can be summarized as the community of the human race--the community in which and through which God creates each of us as individiaals-- building community. This community is given all of creation to enjoy, and God's love be-sides. In response, God asks in covenant that the community be com-mitted to care for one another, that they show the same resilient love (he-sed) and solidarity toward each other that God has Shown them, The touchstone of this solidarity, from the time of the prophets, has been whether the community cares for those at the margins of society, those without power to demand a share of what the community has been given by God. This preferential option for the poor is as ancient and as crucial to the covenant as Yahweh's earliest commands to Israel concern-ing the widow, the orphan, the stranger in the land (Ex 22:20; Dt 10:.18). In fulfillment of the covenant, the community needs to do more than distribute food and clothing to the poor~ It has to bring ,them in from the margins, allowing them to participate in the creative life of the commu- Social Dimensions of Ministry nity. Then they can provide for themselves in dignity and will no longer be marginalized. In this, the pastoral letter goes beyond the usual em-phasis, in Catholic practice, on works of charity. These are seen to be insufficient since the poor have a right to a creative place in society, not just to be passive recipients of our largess. Bringing the marginalized into full participation in community life will, of course, build up the community itself. It will then be more able to show solidarity to those still at the margin, bringing them into fuller participation, and so forth. The cycle of response to the covenant is also the cycle of the community regenerating and building itself up as a soci-ety of justice. The ~uli religious insight is that, in this dbing of justice to one another, God is made present, is found, is worshiped at the cen-ter of this communal re-creation. Faith and justice reinforce each other, even merge, as God moves us to transform our society. This cycle de-scribes positively how God cails us through justice to renew the face of the earth. But there is also resistance to the Spirit of God; it creates injustice in the structures of society and reverses the cycle of creating a commu-nity of justice. A community can tear itself apart by denying meaningful participation to the poor, ignoring the increasing masses of the margi-nalized, replacing communal solidarity with relentless pursuit of self-interest. This injustice the Spirit of God calls upon us to confront, for the Spirit "convinces the world concerning sin and justice and judg-ment" (Jn 16:8).~6 A practical example may clarify how social structures can resist trans-formation. Some one hundred fifty years ago, the Jesuits in Maryland owned slaves. When Jesuit authorities in Rome remonstrated with them over this situation, the American Jesuits responded that the slaves were being very well cared for and, indeed, would likelY suffer much worse if they wei'e given their freedom and turned loose in American society. The Jesuits of Maryland missed seeing the social structure--slavery-- which needed to be transformed, and focused on the personal dimension of care the slaves received. It seems so evident now, but to those en-meshed in the toils of unjust social structures, they often seem "natu-ral," "the way things are,", unquestionable and unconfrontable. The U.S. bishops of the last century were also unable to confront slavery as an institution until the Civil War settled the question for everyone. ~7 One wonders if the terrible price of that war would have been paid had the churches and religious .people of the land not resisted, by and large, the call of the Spirit to transform the structure of slavery. 650 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 While it is clear that God can work to bring good even from wars and great social cataclysms, this is not the way in which the Spirit of God desires to achieve the transformation of the world. The model of the Suf-fering Servant of Isaiah becomes normative for us in the cross of Jesus. Justice is a constitutive element of what the reign of God is about, but "suffering with" the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized is the man-ner of achieving God's jus.tice. We are called to follow our "pain-embracing" God, and our crucified Lord, in confr6nting the evil of this world. It is a manner far different from ou~ ordinary human institutions of violence, vengeance, and material power. God's ways are not ours, and God's just,~'ce cannot be fully achieved w. ithout a~lopting God's ways. Principles of Ministry for the Reign of God If I have been at all clear, it seems to me that two principles flow from what has been developed thus far. I would like to make these two principles explicit, go on to a couple practical strategies for implement-ing them, and then conclude with three sets of questions for considera-tion. What God has done for us and what God asks of us create a first prin-ciple. An essential part of the reign of God is justice, specifically the jus-tice which flows from living out a faith in Yahweh, faith in Jesus. There-fore, followers of Christ should have a concern for justice as a central focus of all their ministries. There are not justice ministries separate from other ministries, any more than there can be ministries separated from faith. Faith and justice are the complementary core of all Christian min-istry. Secondly, the "pain-embracing" love of God, especially inclusive of the marginalized in soc.iety, characterizes the ministry of Jesus "even unto death, death on a cross." The followers of Jesus are missioned to work for the reign of God in like fashion: through experiencing the strug-gle for justice "from below," at the sidle of the downtrodden, accept-ing the conflict or defeat which that entails, believing in the way of the Suffering Servant who is the Lord. Practical, Strategies The following suggestions are practical strategies for implementing these two principles. They are not new, but they might be helpful~ 1. Reflection on mihistry, and particularly on the justice dimension of ministry, should be based on experience. We experience the living God in ~'the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men [and women] of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way Social Dimensions of Ministry / 651 afflicted.'? ~8 Christ dies and rises again for us in sharing the struggles and visions of real people. Experience draws us beyond ideologies and preconceptions; it energizes us for our quest for the reign of God. But the experience must be reflected upon. Stream-of-consciousness ministry may be personally vivifying, but it does not help us understand the social forces that create what we experience, or how we habitually respond. Social analysis can gradually remove the limitations of our cul-tural blinders and make us more critically aware of the social structures which must be transformed to "make clear the way of the Lord" (Mr 3:3). But so~zial analysis is often sterile, immobilizing, unless it is joined with faith and reflection on what God is saying to us. Relating both our experience and our analysis to the wellsprings of our own faith life en-ergizes us to act, and inspires us to discern how to act, for the reign of God. Our ministry is, then, m~ade reflective and revivifieO. And it gives us. further experience, which can be further reflected upon, leading to fur-ther inspiration and discernment. And so on. Many of you will recognize this process for reflection on ministry. It has been variously called the hermeneutic circle, the circle of praxis, or the pastoral cycle. 19 It is a methodology for moving steadily and re-flectively toward more authentic ministry. It may sound a little ominous at first, with terms like "social analysis" and '.'theological reflection." But it can be done very simply. It has been effective among illiterate peas-ants. 2° All of us ought to be able to do it. As a strategy for ongoing re-flection on ministry, it is.best when done communally, as a form of com-munal discernment. 2. In all ministries, there is the opportunity to experience the joys, hopes, griefs, and anxieties of ordinary people. But at least in orders like the Jesuits, most ministerial settings provide scant opportunity to come into contact with the poor and the marginalized. This should not mean that these ministries are exempt 'from the imperatives of justice-seeking or that they are unable to carry out ministry for the reign of God authen-tically. Ministries such as education or pastoral work with middle- and upper-class publics can seriously commit themselves to the work of con-scientization for the reign of God. These ministries deal with those who exercise power and influence over "the way things are"; their publics can bring about or at least come to tolerate changes in the social order which lead toward justice for the marginalized. It is a crucial element of the mission of all these ministries to communicate the call of the liv-ing God for solidarity, especially with the marginalized, and to urge con- 659 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 sistently that social injustices be transformed to bring about the reign of God. But particularly in these ministries, the lack of any lived experience of the poor or oppressed strengthens ct]ltural-religious tendencies toward therapeutic blandness or conformist externalism. We should attempt to build into these ministries, and into the lives of their publics, some ex-perience of real people living at the margins, victims of unjust social con-ditions. There are immersion programs, social-service projects, inte-grated discussion groups, and other forms of contact between people whom our social structures tend to isolate from each other. Such ex-periences will often be episodic, ephemeral, perhaps even seem voyeur-istic. But they can be honed to a finer edge of reality if they are carried out in cooperation with people who are in consistent, full-time ministry or presence among the poor. Within religious congregations we can leaven all our ministries by missioning some of our best people to ministry among the poor, asking them to share with all of us the insights and challenges of their lived ex-perience. The enlivening experience of God present at the margins can be corporate, shared by brothers or sisters in widely divergent ministries, if conscious efforts are made to foster such sharing. For this leavening to occur, it is important that the religious we mission to ministry among the poor be among our best, mainstream people willing and able to in-teract with a wide range of our corporate membership. My experience has been that we too often allow the lone rangers, the disaffected, the angry, or the difficult to wander off in ministry to the poor. Or we so isolate good folks sent into difficult ministries of social justice that they burn out quickly. As religious communities we can become more effec-tively present with the poor, with consequent enriching of all our apos-tolates, if we will take care to engage in such ministry corporately and reflectively. Mere presence among the marginalized does not guarantee any re-flective stance, in terms of either social analysis or theological reflec-tion. There is ample evidence of religious, ministering regularly among the poor, who never question the social structures which afflict their peo-ple. Or worse, they adopt a benevolent one-way relationship of "giv-ing" to the poor, rather than living with and learning from them about the reality of God. To counter these tendencies, itis helpful to be in con-tact with those engaged in the direct ministry of social change, challeng-ing some aspect of social injustice from an integrated faith perspective. As a full-time occupation, religious ministry for social change is rare Social Dimensions of Ministry / 653 this country. There is every indication that God's spirit is calling us, through the Church, to make it more prevalent. But it is unlikely to be-come a dominant mode of ministry in any religious congregation. That does not mean that a few good men or women could not be missioned, in each of the larger ~ongregations, to engage in this newly urgent min-istry. Not only will this serve social transformation for the reign of God; it can helpail our ministries become more competent to deal with the so-cial and theological questions most pressing in our society. Small or large religious congregations can relate to interreligious social-justice centers in most major cities of the United States. And individuals in any minis-try can become advocates of social change in one area or another, as par-ticipants in coalitions of concerned people devoting time and energy out-side their ordinary works to transforming society.2~ There should be no religious congregation so burdened with maintaining historical com-mitments that it cannot find ways to mission at least some key members to collaborative or part-time work for social justice, so as to leaven the entire ministry of the group. In this strategy, then, every ministry can participate in some level of social action for the reign of God: conscientization of the more afflu-ent and powerful, ministry of presence and social service among the marginalized, direct ministry for social change of unjust social structures. Having all three levels of social ministry within a congregation, if there is communication and cross-fertilization among them, can enrich the mis-sion of all for the reign of God. Even where all three levels are not pos-sible, much the same effect can be achieved by collaboration with other religious and lay people committed to working for the transformation of society. No matter which ministries are present within a congregation, all must become imbued with a central concern for social justice. The reign of God and the love of Christ draw us all to this. Some Questions for Consideration Let me turn now to three sets of questions, for which, I assure you, I have no answers. But they may be worth wrestling with in thinking about the future of religious life. I. Most religious congregations had as part of their founding charism a special concern for ministry among the poor.22 Most of our congrega-tions several generations ago ministered mainly among the poor in Amer-ica: immigrant Slavs and Germans, Italians and Irish, still on the mar-gins of American society. Why now are the vast majority of American male religious working in ministries for the more affluent? Was it a form 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 of ministerial "bracket creep," where we drifted up the income ladder along with the traditional publics we served, moving with them in from the margins of American society? If we were to decide anew about where to focus our ministries, what might the Spirit call us to do for the reign of God? 2. Most young men and women coming into reiigious life have been formed by American sociocultural conditioning. They look to religion to foster their own self-realization or to shelter them from the world's turmoil through external authority. Our older veterans of religious life are subject to these same alluring siren songs of American cultural relig-ion. Doour models of early and continuing formation, with their empha-sis on psychosocial development or on external structures of religious life, challenge cultural limitations of religious belief and practice? How much therapeutic self-nurturing or sheltering in external authority do we allow? How can we transcend these tendencies in order to instill full bib-lical faith, which integrates God, society, and self? How form religious for mission, to join our suffering, pain-embracing God in transforming the world? 3. The last set of questions is not mine. They come from Archbishop Weakland when he was asked how Jesuits could help implement the so-cial vision of the Economic Pastoral. :His response went something like this: (a) You Jesuits have a lot of access to the powerful in society. They are your alumni, counselees, fellow board members. You turn to them to support~your own works. Will you use that access to power on behalf of the marginalized and their agenda of justice? (b)You Jesuits have ex-perience of the third world, knowledge of the marginalized. Will you bring that forcefully into the consciousness of the American people, who are so woefully ill-informed about the struggles and attitudes of the poor? (c) There are many good young people, in business, the professions, or factories, who are dissatisfied with what our society offers. They want to remain lay men and women, but long for a way of life, a vision, more consonant with the Gospel. Can you imagine, and then image credible lifestyles and life goals for these lay Christians? Archbishop Weakland's q'uestions are generalizable, I would think, for almost any religious con-gregation. Conclusion ¯ I would like to observe, in conclusion, that fait.h does not seem to be a question at the margins of society. Faith in God is very much alive in the third world and in the inner city. There the overwhelming ques-tions are those of justice. Faith seems most fragile and in doubt in the Social Dimensions of Ministry / 655 sterile, cluttered tunnels of our earthworm society of affluence. Faith with-ers here, though we overnurture it with self-concern, though we fence it in with our fears. But faith in the living God is a wild thing. It thrives at the margins, where struggle and hope for God's justice blaze brightest. If we go there, our own religious life may be rekindled, as we join our God in renewing the face of the earth. Let us go, then, without guilt or rage. Let us go in joy because our God draws us, calls us to join the struggle there for the transformation of the world. There, too, we shall meet the love of our lives, Jesus the Lord. NOTES ~ Alberto Moravia, The Red Book and the Great Wall (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1968);' pp. 12-21. -~ Mi 4:2. See Walter Brueggemann, "Vine and Fig Tree: A Case Study in Imagina-tion and Criticism," The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 43 (1981): 188-204. 3 See W. Brueggemann, '~OId Testament Theology as a Particular Conversation: Ad-judication of Israel's Socio-Theological Alternatives," Theology Digest 32:4 (1985): 302-325. This excellent study of the conne~ztion between Old Testament theophany and justice in the social order was the Bellarmine Lecture at St. Louis University in 1985. I am indebted to it for many of the insights in this scriptural section. 4 See Norman Gottwald, The Tribes of Yahweh (Orbis, 1979), chapter 49: "Mutual Reinforcement of Yahwism and Social Egalitarianism." 5 Jn 11:48-51. See Jon Sobrino, Christology at the Crossroads (Orbis, 1978), pp. 201 ff. 6 The term is Brueggemann's. See his "A Shape for Old Testament Theology: Em-brace of Pain," The Catholic Biblical Quarterly 47:3 (I 985): 395-415. 7 Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, first published 1835-1840. Quota-tion is from Anchor Books edition (1969), pp. 506-510. 8 See J. F. Kavanaugh, Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Orbis, 1981), or his address to this Assembly in 1985: "Religious Life and Leadership in the Con-text of American Culture." From a different perspective, see Daniel Bell, The Cul-tural Contradictions of Capitalism (Basic Books, 1976). 9 An outstanding example of such studies is Robert Bellah et al., Habits of the Heart (Univ. of California Press, 1985). I have relied upon it heavily for this section: ! cannot recommend it highly enough. Another recent study of religious and social trends concurs with much of Bellah's findings: see J. Chittister and M. Marty, eds., Faith and Ferment (Augsburg/Liturgical Press, 1983). ~0 See Bellah, op. cir., pp. 235ff. ~ The phrase is from G. M. Hopkins's poem, "'God's Grandeur" (1877). ~2 See especially Gaudium et Spes, nn. I-3 and passim. ~3 Gaudium et Spes, n. 39. See C. Curran, "Catholic Social Ethics: A New Ap-proach'?" Clergy Review (Feb.-Mar. 1985). 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 ~'~ On the history of the preferential option for the poor, see D. Dorr, Option for the Poor: A Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teachings (Orbis, 1983). ~5 See Brueggemann, Parks, and Groome, To Act Justly, Love Tenderly, Walk Hum-bly: An Agenda for Ministers (Paulist Press, 1986), a fine series of reflections on the Micah text and on justice. m6 See Pope John Paul ll's two recent encyclicals on sinful social structures, Domi-hum et Vivificantem (1986), no. 56; and Sollicitudo Rei Socialis (1988), passim. ~7 See Doris Gottemoeller's talk to this Assembly in 1985: "Challenges to Relig-ious Leadership from a Changing U.S. Church," p. 7. ~8 Gaudium et Spes, no. 1. 19 As developed, respectively, by Juan Segundo, The Theology of Liberation (Or-bis, 1976); by Paolo Freire, The Pedagogy of the Oppzessed (Herder & Herder, 1970); and by Holland & Henriot, Social Analysis (Center of Concern, 1984). The last has a simple, practical treatment in chapter I. 20 See Ernesto Cardenal, The Gospel in Solentiname (Orbis, 1979). 2~ Examples nationally include: Amnesty International, Bread for the World, Catho-lic Worker, Fellowship of Reconciliation, Interfaith Action for Economic Justice, Just Life, Network, Pax Christi, to name only a few. There are countless local and regional grouPs as well. 22 From a brief survey of the self-descriptions of U.S. male religious groups listed in the latest vocation guide, Ministries for the~ Lord: A Resource Guide and Direc-tory of Catholic Church Vocations for Men (Paulist Press, 1985), this seems to be true for the great majority of nonmonastic religious congregations of men. I'd Love to, Lord, But. Paul Wachdorf Father Wachdorf's "Leading People into Prayer" appeared in our May/June 1988 issue. His address remains the same: University of Saint Mary of the Lake; Munde-lein, Illinois 60060. In the Gospel of Luke, chapter 4, Jesus returns to his home town of Naza-reth, goes to the synagogue on the Sabbath, and reads from the prophet Isaiah: The spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore, he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and release to prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord (Lk 4:18-19). These words give a tone and a direction to the public ministry Jesus was about to begin. In 1971, the Synod of Bishops meeting in Rome produced a docu-ment entitled Justice in the World in which they state: 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 redemp-tion of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation (Justice in the World, Synod of Bishops, Second General Assembly, Nov. 30, 197 I). The teachings and the ministry of Jesus and the teachings of the Church have consistently proclaimed that action on behalf of justice is not simply an option, not just a matter of personal preference or inter-est, but is an integral part of the gospel message and the Christian life-style as we are called upon to live it. 657 Review for Religious, September-October 1988 Given the crucial importance of this ministry in the Church and in the world today, I would like to reflect on my own journey into and ex-perience of the ministry of social justice from two viewpoints. First, I will look at some of the common resistances people encounter in them-selves as they hear the gospel challenge of social justice. Then, I want to examine some possible steps which people might profitably pursue to help them break through their resistances and respond more fully to the challenge of social justice. Intellectual Assent vs. Active Participation For the past seven years I have worked with the social justice pro-gram at Mundelein Seminary. Prior to that, I served in a parish for six years. During my years in a parish, I always gave intellectual and verbal assent to the principles of social justice. After all, how could I as a priest do otherwise? But as I look back on those years, I realize that my no-tional assent was not often translated into real and different patterns of behavior. Practicing what I preached about social justice was no simple task, although I did not realize that at the time. Resistances, Excuses, Rationalization~ After my appointment to the seminary, I was elected as the faculty representative for our Peace and Justice Committee. Frankly, I was not enthused about this appointment. But since ! felt somewhat insecure in my new environment and in my new work, it seemed to be an offer I could not refuse. I began to think about my commitment and involvement, l won-dered, "What am I supposed to do?" Soon I recognized within me sev-eral resistances, excuses, and rationalizations. In the past, they had kept me from becoming involved in the ministry of social justice in any sig-nificant way. I wanted to say yes to the Lord and to respond to the call of social justice. But my excuses kept getting in the way. At that point, I realized that 1 would have to critique my resistances with honesty through dialogue and prayer. Otherwise, my resistances would effec-tively block me from ever becoming involved in any way at all. Prophets Are Not Popular Quickly, I recognized the first resistance. Prophets are not popular. From Old Testament times to the present day, men and women who sting the conscience of a nation, a people, or a Church become unpopular. They are often criticized; they have their motives questioned; and they are pushed to the fringes of society. I'd Love to, Lord, But. / 659 ! remember very clearly an incident that happened as I was growing up. In the early 1960s, Dr. Martin Luther King led a march through my neighborhood, a white Catholic stronghold, to Marquette Park. I remem-ber standing on the corner on which my parish church and rectory were located watching the march. There were hundreds of white people lin-ing both sides of the street. Many of them were shouting, cursing, or throwing things at the marchers. Two of the priests came out of the rec-tory and began telling the people to go home and leave the marchers alone. Some of the people responded by cursing at the priests and tell-ing them to mind their own business. I saw a man spit on one of the priests. The following Sunday at Mass, the priests spoke out in favor of the marchers and their cause and spoke against the behavior of the bystand-ers, many of whom were good parishioners, pillars of the church. A few people at the Mass got up and walked out. Those days, I helped count the Sunday collection. That week and for a few weeks afterward, the col-lection went down significantly. I have never forgotten that incident. I still admire the courage of my parish priests. At the same time, I am aware that my later reluctance in seminary and in my initial years of priesthood to become involved in the ministry of social justice or to preach about justice issues was strongly influenced by that experience. In my initial involvement with the Seminary Peace and Justice Com-mittee, I soon came to a basic understanding. ! must be willing with com-plete honesty to critique that part of myself that desires to be popular and to be liked by others. Otherwise, I would never say anything controver-sial or would never speak out or would rarely take action on behalf of issues of social justice. Poverty is Messy and Unglamorous A second resistance for me rests in a simple fact. Poverty is messy and unglamorous. For the past seven years I have volunteered on a part time basis at an overnight shelter for the homeless. Many of the people who come to spend the night there are not "pretty." They are dirty; they smell; they are often sick; some have head lice; some are alcoholics; some belong in a halfway house or mental institution. I have always been fortunate enough to grow up and live in a clean, healthy, and comfortable environment. Throughout much of my life I have been isolated and insulated from the poor and the homeless. I rec-ognized another need for honest critique. I needed to confront that part of myself that wants life always to be nice, comfortable, and pretty. Oth-erwise, I would never become involved. 660 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 Myths, Stereotypes, and Prejudices A third resistance for me consists in myths, stereotypes, and preju-dices. Our culture is filled with them--about racial, ethnic, and relig-ious groups and about the poor and those who work for and with them. "The poor are lazy and would rather be on welfare . If they really wanted to, they could better themselves . They like being poor. See how happy they are . People involved in social justice causes are un-patriotic . All social justice organizations are communist inspired." The list goes on and on. I cannot go to a social gathering without hearing at least one joke that plays upon racial, ethnic, and cultural stereotypes. At times, I have told and laughed at those same jokes. I needed to confront and honestly critique my own myths, stereotypes, and prejudices. Otherwise, I would never become involved. Social-Justice Ministry is Disturbing There is a fourth resistance. I find this ministry disturbing. Working in the area of social justice has forced me to critique my own lifestyle, my attitudes about material possessions and wealth, and my use of the world's resources. I must admit that I like the good life. Conspicuous consumption is the name of the game in American society. In my early years of priest-hood when I was no longer a poor student but had a regular salary, I re-ally enjoyed having nice things. They compensated for my "great sac-rifice" of celibacy. I needed to honestly critique my own desire to live the good life and my tendencies toward materialism. Otherwise, I would never become involved. Fear A fifth resistance for me is fear. I found within myself a whole clus-ter of fears. I believed that if I worked with the poor and on behalf of social justice, I would be injured, harmed, or abused in some way. When I spent my first night at a shelter for the homeless, I was thor-oughly convinced that I was going to get head lice. TV news broadcasts and newspaper articles have always been filled with stories of crime and violence among the poor and in the inner city. When I was in college, I was robbed at gunpoint by two young black men. That experience re-inforced an attitude that had been drilled into me in all kinds of ways in my neighborhood: all black people are dangerous and to be feared. I needed to critique with honesty and courage that part of myself that de-sires security and safety at all costs. Otherwise, I would never take the I'd Love to, Lord, But. / 661 risk of becoming involved. An Overwhelming Sense of Poverty and Injustice in the World There is a final resistance. When I consider the extent of poverty and injustice in the world, I feel overwhelmed. I say to myself: What can one person possibly do to make a difference? My efforts will be futile and a waste of time. The work is innately frustrating. I will continually run into brick walls and have to deal with bureaucratic red tape and unsym-pathetic people and institutions. Progress is often measured in inches. You live with little or no sense of accomplishment. I realized that if I was not willing to honestly critique my own feelings of being over-whelmed and my own desire for instant results, then I would never be-come involved. Overcoming Resistances ~ It was not easy for me to look at my resistances. It is no easier to-day. Life seemed to be more pleasant when I closed my eyes to the re-alities of poverty and injustice as they existed all around me. Even after seven years of working with our Peace and Justice Committee, I find that I can still bring out of my storehouse old and new excuses which warn me to "back off," to rest because "I have done enough." As I con-tinue to come in touch with each of my resistances, I am aware that there are various steps that I have to enter into in order to overcome them. MyNeed for Challenge A first step is to allow myself to be challenged by others. I found myself challenged recently in a way I least expected. My sister who is a registered nurse and a certified nurse midwife recently volunteered to work for two years in Papua New Guinea as a lay missionary. I asked her why she wanted to do this. She told me that she was aware of the many talents, gifts, and blessings God had given her throughout her life. She felt that serving as a lay missionary was one way in which she could best express her gratitude to God. As I listened to what she had to say, I felt a lot of pride and admira-tion for my sister. At the same time, I felt a bit embarrassed as I realized that my own commitment to serving the poor at times looked pale in com-parison. I need people like my sister to challenge me and to keep me look-ing at my resistances. I need people like my sister to inspire me and to keep me in touch with my desire to bring to others the Good News that Jesus proclaimed in the Gospel of Luke as he began his public ministry. They need to say little. Their lives are bold proclamation. 669 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 As important as they are, such challenges are ~not enough for me. I have an amazing capacity to ignore or rationalize away the challenges that come from outside of me. To break through my resistances, I need to pray, to dialogue With others, and to simply begin. MyNeed for Prayer A second step for me is to bring my .resistances before the Lord in prayer. I begin by naming as honestly as I can my fears, my doubts, and my inner resistances. I express to God in my prayer what I am feeling and why I am feeling it. I ask God to break through my denial, to re-move from my eyes the scales that blind me to the,breadth and depth of my resistances so that I can see them for what they are. I place my resis-tances in the hands of God and invite God to respond. Here begins what I call the zone of discomfort in my prayer. To say to God "thy will be done" rather than "my will be thine" is~very fright-ening. What if God reveals to me something 1 do not want to see? What if God asks me to do what I do not want to do? At this point, I must qui-etly and patiently wait for God to respond, trusting that the God who loved me into existence will not abandon me or ask me to do anything that I am not capable of doing. MyNeed for Dialogue Prayer leads me to a third step. I need to talk to another person about my resistances. St. Ignatius in his Rules for the Discernment of Spirits, Week I [326] talks about the evil spirit as a false lover who "acts in or-der to keep his own suggestions and temptations secret, and our tactics must be to bring out into the light of day such suggestions and tempta-tions to our confessor or director or superior" (David Fleming, S.J., The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and A Contem-porary Reading [St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978], p. 213). Resistances need to be brought into the light of day so that they can be seen for what they are. When I do not talk to another person about my resistances, I find that they can gain power to control me, even after I have brought them to prayer. I can easily deny them or sweep them un-der the carpet. In hones( dialogue with another, I am given the gift of freedom of choice. In honest dialogue with another, I find challenge, new perspective, affirmation, support, and the courage to begin. My Need to Begin A fourth step is to begin. At Mundelein Seminary, there is a Spiri- l"d Love to, Lord, But. / 663 tuality and Justice group composed of faculty and students. Each mem-ber of this group has chosen a concrete action to pursue during the school year in some area of social justice. People have chosen to fast, to work at a soup kitchen or a shelter for the homeless, to deaccumulate their pos-sessions and to live more simply, or to pursue the Pax Christi vow of nonviolence. The premise behind this group is that we live ourselves into new ways of thinking, valuing, and behaving. The way to begin is robe-gin. The way to break through and break down our resistances is to be-gin doing something, no matter how small or insignificant. I have chosen the Pax Christi vow of nonviolence as my action for this year. In the sh"ort time that I haqe pursued this, I have already be-gun to experience ways in which my thinking, my attitudes, my values, and my behaviors are changing. I can feel my resistances to living out this vow b(eaking down in the very act of acting. The words of Mother Teresa are most applicable here: I never look at the masses as my responsibility. I look at the individual. I can love only one person at a time. I can feed only one person at a time. Just one, one, one. You get closer to Christ by coming closer to each other. As Jesus said: "Whatever you do to the least of my breth-ren, you do to me." So you begin . ! begin. I picked up one per-son. Maybe if 1 didn't pick up that one person, 1 wouldn't have picked up 42,000. The whole work is only a drop in the ocean. But if I didn't put the drop in, the ocean would be one drop less. Same thing for you, same thing in your family, same thing in the church where you go. Just begin . . . one, one, one. (Source unknown) MyNeed for Support A final step for me is my need for ongoing support. My commitment to working for justice in the world is fragile and tenuous. I find that I need ongoing challenge to help me keep looking at and dealing with my resistances. I also need the support and affirmation of others to keep me going when I experience moments of discouragement and frustration. The Spirituality and Justice group of which I am a part provides me with opportunities for ongoing challenge, prayer, dialogue, and action. At our initial meetings, we spent time praying about the commitment we hoped to make. We broke into dyads to talk to another about why we chose to be a part of this group, about the action we were planning to pursue, and about the fears and resistances we were experiencing inside of us as we prepared to begin. We came back into the larger group to share the fruits of our dialogue. We concluded with shared prayer. At this point, most of us in the group have chosen and have begun 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 to pursue an action. We see future meetings as an opportunity for us to take time for solitary prayer as we continue to bring our actions before God. The meetings help us to share in aone to one way and in the larger group the impact that our action is making on our thinking, valuing, and behaving. The meetings offer support and prayer for and with one an-other in our actions. Here we give witness and challenge to one another as we keep looking at and confronting our resistances. Conclusion The journey into the ministry of social justice is challenging, diffi-cult, and painful. There are many ~tesistances that cooe from within and without. There are many starts and stops. It is a journey that cannot be successfully negotiated alone. There can be no authentic journey with-out God and fellow travelers. My experience is that the journey is well worth the effort for my good and the good of others. May the Spirit of the Lord be upon us in our quest to "bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and release to prisoners." Understanding Novitiate Formation Wilkie Au, 'S.J. Father Au has just completed six and a half years as novice director. He is writing a book tentatively titled Acquiring Habits of the Heart: Holistic Religious Forma-tion. He may be addressed at Loyola Marymount University; P.O. Box 45041; Los Angeles, California 90045. Vatican II,s call for the renewal of religious life set into motion a radical reexaminatio.n of the purposes, processes, and structures involved in the formation of candidates for religious life. The aggiornamento of John XXIII required that those responsible for religious formation make the adaptations needed to prepare religious candidates fora lifetime of dedi-cation and service in a rapidly changing world and Church. Because sen-sible adaptation depended on having a clear sense of what objectives were sought, much of the discussion among formation personnel (forma-tores) in the postconciliar years centered on the purposes and goals of the different phases of the formation process. Consequently, the noviti-ate or initial formation in many orders was thoroughly evaluated in light of the renewed understanding of religious life in the modern world, and many dramatic changes followed. Nevertheless, more than twenty years later the question is still being asked today: "What should be the overriding aims and objectives of the novitiate?"~ According to Father Gerald Arbuckle, S.M., a former as-sistant general of his community, many formation personnel today agree that the experience and the efforts to adapt the novitiate program accord-ing to the requirements of Renovationis Causam have not always been as successful as they would have wished. Many are still uncertain about what to do in the novitiate. Many questions remain: "Should there be a one,to-two-year novitiate? . When should the formative apostolic ex-periences take place and what should they accomplish? . How much 665 666 / Review for Religio. us, September~October 1988 separation, if any, from the world around them should novices experi-ence?" In brief, many questions about the aims and objectives of novi-tiate formation persist.2 Today the drastic drop in the number of those entering the novitiate adds further reason for adaptations in novitiate formation. To be accept-able, these adaptations must, however, retain the essential goals of the novitiate. Precisely what these needed changes are and how they are to be implemented will depend on concrete circumstances of place and per-sonnel. But, more importantly, before any sensible adaptation can be made, it is imperative that there be a clear rearticulation of the basic goals of novitiate formation. Otherwise,. there is the danger that our ad-aptations will be misguided and essential aspects of novitiate training be inadvertently°lost. The purpose of this article is to articulate an under-standing of novitiate formation, based on my si'x years of experience as director of novices of the Jesuits of the California Province. It is my hope that this article will stimulate and contribute to a discussion of novitiate formation at a time when formatores throughout the world are attempt-ing to deal with the adjustments made necessary by, among other things, declining numbers. While this article will. reflect Jesuit documents and my ,own experi-ence working within a Jesuit novitiate (with a group averaging between twelve to fifteen,new candidates every year), I am hopeful that other re-ligious groups of men and 'women working with smaller numbers can dis-cover in my comments what is universally true of the novitiate process in general. In a word, I believe that any novitiate program that purports to embody the spirit of Vatican I1 must include three essential aspects: (1) vocation discernment; (2) religious, socialization; and (3) Qngoing in-dividuation. These three overlapping purposes of the novitiate must, in my opinion, be retained no matter what adapta!ions, are made to accom-modate changing circumstances. What follows is a discussion of these three major goals of the novitiate. Vocation Discernment The objective bf vocation discernment in the novitiate is to help nov-ices come to a peaceful awareness and a free acceptance' of God"s will for them in regard to their state of life. Candidates come seeking help in discerning wh(ther God is indeed calling them to a lifelong commit-ment to tile service of Christ with this particular religious group. Sev-eral considerations are helpi~ul in providing this assistance to them: Confirmation of a Call versus "Weeding Out" The nOvmate must be Viewed as a positive process, as a concrete aid Novitiate Formation / 66"/ to those trying to test out their call to religious lif~. The novitiate should not be designed or perceived as a "weeding out" system, something ,like the basic training of an elitist military unit or the strenuous audition for a coveted part in a chorus line. The novitiate process would be vitiated at its core if it were to be seen as a systematic attempt to test candidates by deliberately placing artificial obstacles before them and screening them on the basis of their ability to overcome these obstacles. The de-structive and dysfunctional consequences of this negative view of novi-tiate formation can be documented in the "horror stories" of many older religious. In addition to the regrettable pain and htirt inflicted on peo-ple, a negative approach ~to the novitiate is fundamentally flawed because it encourages fearful and anxious novices to circumvent, rather than in-vest in, the complex process of discernment. Vocation discdrnment requires an openness and attention to one's in-terior movements, especially in prayer, and an honest disclosure and dis-cussion of these movements in spiritual direction. These attitudes of open-ness and honesty cannot exist in the kind of atmosphere of fear and threat which a "weeding out" approach inevitably produces. Furthermore, such an approach focuses too much attention on external requirements that need to be met in order to survive, like ~'hoops one has to jump through" to make the grade. Dangerously distracting, such a pre-occupation with "making it" can seriously jeopardize the integrity of one's discernment process. Good discernment relies heavily on a per-son's ability to hear the voice of the Lord speaking deeply in the soli-tude of one's heart and in the concrete circumstances of one's life. In light of this, the novice director can be most helpful by imitating the posi-tive role of Eli, the priest, who directs the young Samuel to the place where he is instructed to respond to the Lord's summons by saying, "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening" (1 S 3:1-9). The Dynamic of Election and Confirmation The term "election"' was used by lgna~tius of Loyola to designate the choice made by a person seeking the will of God regarding some con-crete matter in his or her life. For the last four centuries, Christians have found the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius helpful in making an elec-tion, especially when trying to determine how they should serve Christ. For Ignatius, such a determination was best done in the context of prayer, for "prayer is the place where we sort out our desires and where we are ourselves sorted out by the desires we choose to follow. ,,3 The spiritual discernment that takes place in the novitiate results in an election regard-ing the direction one's vocation should take. Besides providing direction, Review for Religious, September-October 1988 however, the election process in the novitiate also seeks to test out the depth and freedom of a person's desire to serve Christ through the life of the vows. The Exercises were designed by Ignatius to help in "preparing and disposing the soul to rid itself of all inordinate attachments, and, after their removal, [in] seeking and finding the will of God in the disposition of our life for the salvation of our soul."4 In a Jesuit novitiate the Exer-cises are usually made in the course of a thirty-day retreat soon after en-trance. This experience provides the context in which the Jesuit novice director helps the individual novice either to make an election regarding his vocation or to reaffirm his previously~ made decision to be a Jesuit. Those who make an election to pursue the Jesuit way of life must then generously engage in the novitiate process with the hope that the Lord will clarify and confirm their desire. Thus, vocation discernment in the novitiate involves a two-year period of' monitoring one's deepest desires and ascertaining whether the desire to serve the Lord as a Jesuit perdures and deepens throughout the course of the novitiate. If this desire per-dures, the novice can then express this desire through the first vows of a Jesuit. Michael J. Buckley, S.J., describes these first vows as an offering, following upon an election, made in perpetuity, very much like the initial election of the Exercises. Like this offering, they are con-tingent upon the subsequent confirmation by the Lord, worked through a human being's personal religious history over the next ten or fifteen years.5 Until he takes his final vows many years after the novitiate, "the Jesuit lives in a period of probation, testing whether the first offering of his life to God [through first vows] is accepted and confirmed by divine providence."6 Buckley summarizes this Ignatian dynamic well by explain-ing "the way in which one moves toward finding and giving his life over to the will of God" within the framework of the Spiritual Exercises. There isthe initial offer of a choice to God our Lord, an offering which is made according to a time for making an election and which is then presented before the Lord . What the dynamic of the election looks for after the moment of offering is the subsequent confirmation'by God. Election as a religious history, as an experience of Providence, devel-ops over time between these two major events: the time of human offer-ing and the period of confirmation by God.7 Clearly, then, the objective of vocation discernment in the novitiate is to help novices determine whether the depth and direction of their Novitiate Formation / 669 heart's deepest desires move them to make a self-offering of themselves through vows. Absolute clarity and certainty regarding the future can-not be expected at the end of the novitiate period, since the person's self-offering must await "the subsequent confirmation by God." As Buck-ley eloquently states, For a man who follows God, who listens to God throughout his serious experience, the future is unknown and mysterious--not unlike God him-self. And he moves into this mystery without prematurely forcing clar-ity because his experience of God directs this movement.8 The Test of Existential Validation Colloquially stated, the test of existential validation asks novices this question: "Does the shoe fit?" This is an important question for voca-tion discernment, and it must be asked on a regular basis. While the Ig-natian election helps novices find God's will for them in the deep de-sires of their hearts, the test of existential validation enables them to dis-cover God"s will in the concrete details of their lives. The method of existential validation is basically very simple. When they first enter, the novices are asked to live the life of a Jesuit as if they have already taken the three vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Then they are asked to pay attention to the "fit" throughout the course of their novitiate. In other words, they are asked to "try on the shoes of being a Jesuit" and check for the fit as they actually walk in those shoes. In their concrete experience, do they find that living the vows in an actual Jesuit community is life-giving and productive? Do they dis-cover that, with the passage of time, there is an increasing congruence between what they want for their lives and Jesuit ideals? As they grow in knowledge of what being a Jesuit involves concretely in this histori-cal time and place, do they find a match between what they desire and what life in the Society of Jesus offers and requires today? Another aspect of existential validation involves testing the authen-ticity of one's desire. This is done mainly by checking for the congru-ence between what one professes to value and desire and how one actu-ally chooses, decides, and behaves. Although all human beings live with a discrepancy between the ideal and the real, drastic and consistent de-viations from the norms and aspirations of religious life should make one question the genuineness and depth of one's desire to be a religious. Though painful and disruptive, getting in touch with authentic desires can be a liberating experience. Furthermore, while self-reporting is an important means for gather- 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 ing data in the process of existential validation, the feedback of the re-ceiving community is also very important in testing out the existential fit between the individual novice and the peculiar charism of a particu-lar religious institute. Vocation discernment in the novitiate must ascer-tain not only if a person desires to take on religious life, but whether he or she has been given the gift and charism to live that life. A realistic assessment of this capability is a crucial aspect of vocation discernment. For example, from the concrete evidence of a person's life, can it be judged that the Lord has given the aspirant to an apostolic religious com-munity the following prerequisites: -- the ability to live in community with relative peace and joy? -- the capacity to love with celibate chastity in a non-exclusive man-ner? -- the.freedom to live with simplicity and detachment? -- the ability to be mobile and available to be sent anywhere on mis-sion? The underlying presupposition of this line of inquiry obviously is that one's God-given abilities, personality, and inclinations can indicate in helpful ways the precise form and manner in which one is being called to serve Christ. Not to pay serious attention to these concrete indicators is to disregard an important aspect of vocation discernment. Vocation Shortage and a ~,ranny of Numbers I would like to make a final comment regarding vocation discern-ment in the novitiate. It seems to me that the declining number of candi-dates c~n create a ,~ituation in which vocation discernment is not engaged in with seriousness and detachment. The disordered desire to keep the few that come can jeopardize and short-circuit the discernment process. At a time of drastic diminishment, external pressures to hang on at any cost to the few that do enter are sometimes exerted by formed members of the community. This pressure, as well as the interior unfreedom of formatores themselves, can impede a thorough discernment process.9 Fur-thermore, unconsciously treating novices with a "precious few" men-tality can lead to a form of coddling that would be unhelpful for relig-ious formation and spiritual growth. Religious communities that have had only a few candidates during the last decade and at present experience only a trickle from year to year are particularly susceptible to this dan-ger. Religious Socialization: "Habits of the Heart" The term "religious socialization" has been popularized by John Novitiate Formation / 671 Westerhoff III in discussing the question of how elements of religion and faith ,~are transmitted from one generation to another. While he does not apply the term to the formation of religious candidates, nevertheless, it seems to capture quite well one of the essential purposes of the noviti-ate, that is, the handing on of a religious tradition and lifestyle to per-sons desiring to enter the life of a religious group as fully participating members. Religious socialization, according to Westerhoff, is a process consisting of lifelong formal and informal mechanisms, through which persons stistain and transmit their faith (worldview', value ~syst~m) and lifestyle. This is accomplished through participation in the life of a tradition-bearing community with its rites, rituals, myths, sym-bols, expressions of beliefs, attitudes and values, organizational pat-terns, and activities.~° As defined by Westerhoff, religious socialization is a lifelong proc-ess and thus does not exactly describe the novitiate, which (to the relief of all involved) is limited to one or two years. Technically speaking, re-ligious socialization is equivalent to the whole process of formation, which more and more is being viewed as a lifelong affair. Because of ongoing liturgical renewal, biblical and theological reflection, and the rapidity of changing conditions of our times, religious have been urged to commit themselveS seriously to "continuing formation." ~ Neverthe-less, the ~oviiiate is the initial phase of the lifelong process involved in the assimilation of members into religious life. Viewed as such, Wester-hoff's notion of religious ~ocialization provides a useful way of under-standing an essential purpose of the novitiate. Adaptations of novitiate formation must be guided by the essential goal of religious socialization. The basic question raised by the task of handing on the tradition Of religious life to new aspirants is this: What is tO be~handed down and how? What values, beliefs, mores, and ways of proceeding has the receiving community judged to be of perennial worth, such that they should remain permanently .definitional of the group? To employ a phrase of Alexis de Tocqueville, the nineteenth-century French observer of democracy in America (a phrase recently popu-larized by a national bestseller), what are the "habits of the heart" that the receiving community deems absolutely essential for maintaining its group life with integrity and vitality'? In "habits of the heart" Tocqueville included "notions, opinions, and ideas that 'shape mental habits'; and 'the sum of moral and intellectual dispositions' " as well as habitual practices with respect to such things as religion. ~- Once the receiving community has come to a clear consensus on the 672 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 content which it wishes to transmit, then it must decide on the most ef-fective means for this transmission. The question of how to raises a num-ber of considerations which every novice director must ponder if the no-vitiate program is to have any intelligible rationale. Some of these im-portant considerations will be discussed below. The Question of Contact and Separation For the sake of effective religious socialization, there often arises the question of what contact novices should have with family, friends, those in ministry, and formed members of their own religious order. Arbuckle has provided a very useful framework to reflect on this question. ~3 Re-lying on anthropological data regarding initiation rites, he proposes three-stage process for the novitiate, which, according to him, is essen-tially an initiation rite: the stages of separation, liminoid, and the incor-poration or reaggregation. Stage I emphasizes separating the novices from the ordinary life they have left behind in order to dramatize the radicality of the transition from lay life to religious life. While this stage may be brief, the separation also symbolic. The symbolism must express to the candidate that in order to respond to the call of the Lord there must be a withdrawal from the world of "or-dinary" living with its roles and interests, its speed, and its distraction. The symbolism must convey the message that to follow the radical de-mands of the gospel message one must be prepared to "leave father, mother, brothers, sisters, and all things" for the sake of the Lord. 14 To convey this new dramatic reality, novices should, at this stage, be separated physically and geographically from other members of the group who have already gone through the passage of initiation. Not to separate them, "when the aims of the initiation process are so different from the aims of postnovitiate training, is to make the realization of the novitiate aims impossible to achieve."~5 The second stage, called liminoid (from the Latin, limen, threshold), requires the kind of seclusion that fosters strong investment in commu-nity building. It is precisely in the context of a vibrant community life that the novices are to experience the "habits of the heart" which the receiving community wish(s to transmit to its new members. This is the time for introducing the novice to the unique spirit of the institute, peculiar charism within the Church, and its characteristic way of proceed-ing. By so inculcating its spirituality, mores, history, and tradition, the receiving community aims to bond the new member to its past and thus Novitiate Formation / 673 to provide a foundation for the novice's identification with the group. According to Arbuckle, this second stage of relative seclusion should last about a year. The third stage is that of incorporation or reaggregation, a period when novices are reconnected with the religious family outside the no-vitiate. This stage should be as long as or even longer than the liminoid stage. Basically a time of "evaluated pastoral experience," this stage is to be seen as an integral part of the novitiate process. Arbuckle ex-presses the aims of the third stage by citing paragraph 25 of Renovationis Causam: Besides gradual preparation for apostolic activities, they [that is, the ex-perimental periods outside the novitiate] can also have as their purpose to bring the novice into contact with certain concrete aspects of poverty or of labor, to contribute to character formation, a better knowledge of human nature, the strengthening of the will, the development of personal responsibility and, lastly, to provide occasions for effort at union with God in the context of active life.~6 In my opinion, Arbuckle's three-stage approach provides a rich and comprehensive understanding of the novitiate process, as Well as a sound basis for determining the question of the amount of separation and con-tact that would be helpful for novices. That there be some kind of alter-nation between separation and contact has also been clearly endorsed by others. For example, the Jesuit decree on novitiate formation states: Although entrance into the novitiate should entail a real separation from the life previously led in the world, superiors should nevertheless pro-vide that the novices, while consistently maintaining a spirit of recol-lection, should have sufficient social contact with their contemporaries (both within and outside the Society). Likewise the necessary separation from parents and friends should take place in such a way that genuine progress in affective balance and supernatural love is not impeded. IV The Arbuckle model is useful because it enables the novitiate to ef-fectively bond new members to the religious group, which is the goal of religious socialization. The bonding is both with the past (the commu-nity's traditions and history) and with the present (its present members and ministries). By means of form'al and informal contact, then, the re-ceiving community links its new members to its group life. The Question of Structure and Nonstructure It is my opinion that both structure and nonstructure have important and different functions in the process of religious socialization. The no- 67'4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 vitiate process must include times for both. Structured time is important for thi~ development of the habits and skills necessary for sustaining a lifetime of religious dedication. This time of structure is the period tra-ditionally known as "common order" during which the novices's day is regulated according to a schedule with definite periods for communal and personal prayer, for work around the house, for conferences and classes with the novice staff, for individual study, and for apostolic in-volvements. Because the development of habits such as those that con-tribute to a faithful prayer life and spiritual discernment requires regular repetition and practice, structured time for such training is important in novitiate formation. Equally important is time for more freedom and less structure in the novitiate learning process. These times of nonstructure provide an op-portunity for the novices to test out to what extent, they have internal-ized and appropriated what they have sought to learn during times of struc-tured learning. For example, has the individual novice found himself or herself able to faithfully sustain a regular prayer life when away from the structural supports of the novitiate? To foster personal responsibility among novices for their own development, the Jesuits' 3 i st General'Con-gregation stated that "a necessity is that the no~,itiat~'s way of life be not so rigidly determined that the novices, lacking in all initiative, can hardly ever practice spiritual discernment, or even obedience itself, ex-cept in the form of a passive and impersonal submission."~8 The non-structured periods of the novitiate allow the novices as aspiring religious to find out truthfully and behaviorally what changes in their lives and at-titudes have actually taken place as the result of their training in the limi-noid stage. Therefore, I believe that a rhythmic alternation between struc-tured and nonstructured time is an essential dynamic of the novitiate learn-ing process. The Question of Experience and Reflection Another important learning dynamic in the novitiate involves the com-bination of experience and reflection. This mode of learning, variously called experiential learning or praxis, calls for the novice's active engage-ment in learning experiences and a subsequent reflection upon those ex-periences, with an eye to what insights and knowledge can be.,gleaned from them. This form of experiential learning is applicable to many ar-eas in which novices are called to grow, that is prayer,t9 interpersonal relationships,2° and ministerial effectiveness. The goal sought through this mode of learning is, in the words of the Jesuits' 33rd General Con-gregation, "a transformation of our habitual patterns of thought through Novitiate Formation / 675 a constant interplay of experience, reflectipn, and action.' While experiential learning can be a powerful form of learning, there is always the danger that it can lead to anti-intellectualism, if it is not carefully applied. Experience is the indispensable raw material of expe-riential learning. But it remains unprocessed--that is, raw material-- without the equally important process of reflecting on the experience. The danger is effectively obviated when serious effort an~d sufficient time are devoted to dwelling on the experience in such a way that ideas and principles are abstracted out of it and feelings are symbolized. In addition'to serious reflection, there is a further requirement of ef-fective praxis. To be used intelligently, experiential learning must be grounded in a well-thought-out theory of experience. As John Dewey warned in 1938, "The belief that all genuine education comes about through experience does not mean that all experiences are genuinely or equally educative. Experience and education cannot be directly equated to each other."zz Mere insisten~ze on the necessity of experience, there-fore, is notenough. In Dewey's words, "Everything depends on the qual~ ity of the experience which is had."z3 Therefore, to use the experiential mode of learning in the novitiate effectively,formatores must ensure (!) that the quality of the learning experiences engaged in by novices be se-riously evaluated and (2)that the novices, with the assistance of a skilled facilitator, give sufficient time and attention to follow-up reflection on their experiences. The Ongoing Process of Individuation The third major aspect of novitiate formation calls for the ongoing fostering of the personal growth of candidates. While the agenda of the receiving community is stressed in the process of religious socialization, the individuation process respects the agenda of persons in their individ-ual growth process. Since it is the case, more and more, that candidates enter the novitiate at such diverse ages and at such different points of p.er-sonal development, novitiate formation must seriously recognize individ-ual differences and aid individuals to move ahead, not regress, in the de-velopment of their selfhood. After all, the ability to give of oneself in self-donation presupposes that one first possesses a self. According to Carl Jung, the process of individuation is a gradual growth toward whole-ness and harmony, involving the progressive differentiation and detailed development of all parts of the human personality. Since individuation is a lifelong project, entry into religious life cannot halt its progress with-out stunting the healthy maturation and development of religious as hu-man beings. 6"/6 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 Since Vatican II, religious have been strongly ehcouraged to take con-tinuhl human growth seriously and to take care that their commitment to religious life does not impede their prior responsibility as human beings to a~tualize their God-gi~,en potential. In the eyes of an increasing num-ber of c,~ontemporary theologians, the motivation for continuous human growth is clearly a religious one. Human life'is seen as a gift fr6m the Fi~ther. At the same time, God couples the gi~ft of life with a challenge to person~s to be cocreatorsof their lives, freely fashioning their lives into "something beautiful for God." In this ongoing process of human de-velopment,~ the Lord of creation and the human works Of his hand col-laborate. Therefore, for the person who seeks to respond to God's in-itiative, a commitment to continuous growth'is not only a choice, but requirement. To deny the inner impulse t.oward continuous growth is tan-tamount to not responding to God, because, in the words of Gregory Baum, "as d.estiny, as summons, as love., God is present in man's mak-ing of man."~-4 John Haughey, S.J., states that the refusal to take seri-ously one's vocation to be a cocreator with God also takes on a moral dimension. When the refusal to choose leaves the work of God's hands unfinished, then this peculiar kind of inaction takes on a moral dimension. Why.'? Because the unique way of manifesting some aspect of the fullness of God that every person is born to manifest remains potency. Refusal to come to the point of decision, choice, or commitment can leave some-thing of creation itself unfinished and hence God's glory incomplete. This constitutes evil at the level of:being itself. An individual thwarts the purpose of God's creating him by refusing to exercise the cocreator-ship that he could exercise. That which is called forth by God is ren-dered void by man.25 Consequently, religious life and novitiate formation must reinforce among no'vices the importance of continuing their commitment to the proc-ess of individuation as they are simultaneously socialized into the group. Growth in spiritual maturity depends heavily on integral human devel-opment. This truth has long been captured in the Scholastic adage that "grace builds on nature." Leo P. Rock, S.J., a former novice director, applied this truth 'to novitiate formation in a pithy way: "Grace does not substitute for nature, but fulfills it. Healthy, sane personality develop-ment is the most fertile soil in which grace can take root and grow. Growth in religious life can best happen in the situation which best fos-ters personal human growth.''26 The following considerations may be helpful toformatores as they consider how to best foster such prerequi- Novitiate Formation / 677 site human growth in the novitiate: The Developmental Nature of Human Growth Human growth takes place in stages, with each stage presupposing and building on preceding ones. As deveiopmentalists put it, these stages are. invariantly sequential. A person cannot, for example, go from stage one to stage four by skipping the intervening stages. This principle thus requires t~at every individual novice be met where he or she is on enter-ing the novitiate, and then helped to proceed ~forward, stage by stage, from tha.t personal starting point. This is especially important because per-sons entering religion today .vary so much in age, background, and de-velopment. An undifferentiated treatment of novices would prove to be an unenlightened and eventually frustrating appr6ach. Another key consideratibn is that, as a Jesuit formation document puts it, "human development does not proceed at the same pace in eve-ryone." z7 This fact calls for adaptation of the process to individuals. Therefore, in. fostering growth in the novitiate, it seems important that the focus be kept on the individual and the particular~areas of his or her life that stand most ready for development at any particular time. Force-feeding of any kind not only risks dging violence to people, but will ul-timately be countbrproductive in leading to any kind of significant, long-term learning. Personal Responsibility and Religious Obedience The renewal of religious life since Vatican II has certainly challenged men and women to understand and qive the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience in ways that do not impede personal maturity and psycho-logical health. Twenty years ago Jesuit John Courtney Murray spelled out this challenge in a talk to fellow Jesuits. He warned that religious obedience poses a real danger to personal maturity if it fosters the abdi-cation of personal responsibility for one's life and choices. Obedience is a perilous"path to personal maturity, according to Murray. This is be-cause the vow of obedience, if poorly lived out, produces people "who to a degree are purposeless, their lives not consciously and strongly pat-terned, not inwardly directed toward a determined goal with all the or-ganized power of the whole self.' ,28 Religious can succumb to the trap posed by obedience by being pas-sive and overly submissive to authority figures in order to gain accep-tance and approval or to enjoy a kind of infantile dependence free from the anguish of personal decision-making. Those who manifest these and othe'r forms of immature behavior often rationalize their way of acting Review for Religious, September-October 1988 in spiritual terms, thus disguising and denying what they~ are actually do-ing. When they say that they "just want to follow God's or the supe-rior's will," it is sometimes simply a rationalization to justify their to take responsibility for themselves.29 This becomes obvious when the superior clearly has no strong feelings or particular preference about wfiat should happen and in fact would like the religious to assume some independent initiative and to indicate a clear preference. Realizing this threat to maturity, ihe document on Jesuit formation makes clear that "the more the noviceg are stimulated to assume respon-sibilities with prudent and discerning charity, the more successfully will .they acquire Spiritual maturity and the more freely will they adhere their vocation."3° A correlative document on Jesuit obedience states that mature obedience is unattainable apart from the constant cultivation a spirit of initiative and responsibility.3~ A Discernment Model to Develop Responsible~Obedience To foster personal responsibility within the framework of religious obedience, I have used the following eight-step model to teach novices a way of practicing dis~zernment: Step 1" Identify the decision to be made or tl~e issu~ to be resolved. Step 2: Examine the underlying values or concerns (human, Chris-tian, religious, and Jesuit) involved. Step 3: Take time to pray over the matter, paying attention to how one is being drawn or led in prayer. Step 4: Discuss the matter with a spiritual director. Step 5: Dialogue with the superior and engage in a mutual search for God's will in the matter. Step 6: Strive for a state of lgnatian "indifference," that is, a state of inner freedom and equipoise which allows one to accept whatever decision or resolution would be for God's greater glory. If a person is unable to achieve "indifference," discussing the matter in spiritual direction can bring valuable self-knowledge and clarity about how best to proceed in the search for God's will. Perhaps, more prayer and dia-logue with the superior regarding conflicting values and perspectives may be needed before a peaceful closure and decision can be arrived at. Step_ 7: Accept the superior's decision with ,trust in God's. provi-dence at work within the dynamics of religious obedience. Step 8: Stay open to the emerging data of ongoing experience to check for confirmation. In a study of lgnatian obedience, John Futrell, Novitiate Formation / 679 S.J., states that "the principal means of confirmation of the decisions of the superior., are the mutual contentment of himself and his com-panion and the proof of living experience.' ,32 If there is serious doubt "that the superior's decision truly reflects God's will, the process of ,prayer, consultation, and dialogue must begin again. This discernment process promotes personal responsibility and growth because it requires the full engagement of the novices. In com-ing to a decision, they must work with.their religious superior, rather than have things fully decided or resolved for them from above. Step I requires them to invest in the process of defining the parameters of the issue from their personal point of view. Step 2 involves a process of val-ues clarification in which they state the values that are at stake in the de-cision. Steps 3 and 4 give them the chance to critique these values, both alone in prayer and together with a spiritual director. Steps 2, 3, and 4 press them to ask an important twofold question: "Am I free to pursue my values.'?" and "Are my values worth the pursuit?" By requiring them to come to some kind of tentative stance or decision before dialogu-ing with the superior, these steps promote their sense of selfhood, which is largely shaped in the process of personal decision-making. Finally, if attained, the spiritual attitude of Ignatian indifference provides them with the inner freedom which guarantees that their act of autonomous choice can be integrated with religious obedience. For, in the end, indifference allows them to accept whatever is decided with a sense of adult respon-sibility and commitment to the way of evangelical obedience. Summary Reflections Before ma~king a concluding recommendation, it might be helpful to summarize what has been proposed here: I. Adaptations in novitiate formation must always be guided by the three, essential goals of the novitiate: vocation discernment, religious so-cialization, and ongoing individuation. 2. Novitiate formation as it relates to vocation discernment must be seen as a positive aid concerned with the confirmation of a call, rather /han as a negative process of "weeding out" candidates. The process of election monitors the will of God being expressed in the heart's deep-est desires, and the process of existential confirmation searches for the will of God manifested in the concrete circumstances of one's life. 3. Novitiate formation as it relates to religious socialization is the proc-ess by which a religious community receives new members and bonds them to the community's past and present by (a) sharing with them its tradition, spirituality, mores, and "habits of the heart" and (b)welcom- 680 / Review for Religious, September-October 1988 ing them to its current fellowship and ministries. 4. Novitiate formation as it relates to ongoing individuation is the process by which the, personal growth and development .of individual nov-ices are fostered, even as the novices are being socialized into the com-munity. Towards this end the novitiate attempts to promote individual initiative and personal responsibility within the context of religious obe-dience. In light of what has been proposed above, I recommend-~that, wher-ever and whenever possible, communities with small numbers of nov-ices (for example, five or fewer) join together with,other compatible groups ~to form a larger formation community, Examples of compatible groups might be novices of different provinces of the same religious or-der (for example, an interprovinciai Jesuit or Dominican novitiate) o con-gregations with the same founding spirit (for example, Franciscans, Bene-dictines, Mercy Sisters, St. Joseph Sisters). In my opinion, the goals of religious socialization are. better accomplished in larger groupings and are very difficult to achieve with just two or three novices ~ibsorbed into a regular apostolic house. This is especially true of the liminoid phase of religious socializa-tion, which relies heavily on an experience of community. During period, novices are meant to acquire the religious values,mores, and spiri-tuality of the group by experiencing daily life in a vibrant community, whose central ministry is the socializing of novices into religious This regrouping for the sake of forming larger formatiow communities can be on a full-time or part-time basis. A very successful example a full-time merger has been Loyola House in Berkley, Michigan, which houses the joint Jesuit novitiate program of the Chicago and Detroit prov-inces. Part-time collaborative programs have taken various forms. For example, for two straight years the Jesuit novices of the California and Oregon provinces joined together for two months to experience the Ig-natian Exercises together. Last year three Jesuit novitiates'pooled their resources and spent five weeks together to study the history of the or-der. Another example of such successful collaboration is the intercom-munity novitiate experience in such places as Los Angeles and Denver. Large and autonomous formation communities can provide S'everal very important dimensions of novitiate training that communities of or two novices cannot provide. Briefly, they are the following: Peer formation. In my experience, peer formation is an important as-pect of religious socialization, As novices experience together the dif-ferent aspects of religious life and share theirjfaith and religious experi- Novitiate Formation / 681 ences with each other, they are supported and "edified," in the best sense of the word. Spiritual conversation among novices regarding the story of their vocation, their experience in prayer and ministry, their strug-gles with the vows and with community living can provide much needed support and insight. Liturgical formation. Larger, autonomous novitiate communities are more likely to have a well-planned, coordinated liturgical life, which can be very important in the spiritual formation of novices. When there are only two or three novices living together, chances are that there will be no orga0ized liturgical life in the community. Instead, the novices may merely join in a convenient parish liturgy. When this occurs, the peda-gogical function of liturgy within formation is greatly diminished. Staffing and programmatic advantages. Because of the growing short-age of active members in practically every religious community in the United States, the search for qualified personnel for the various apostolic works of a community often invites a subtle competition among the vari-ous ministries. As a result, there is a danger that novitiate formation will get short shrift because of the very small number of novices being min-istered to. A larger group of novices in some kind of interprovincial ar-rangement would provide a stronger claim for greater investment by the community (a) in qualified formation personnel whose work is given full-time status and assured of some continuity and (b) in some regular and relatively fixed program of instruction for the training of novices. With-out this kind of investment, it is hard to expect that a person asked to be a part-time novice director for one or two years will devote the time and energy needed to understand the complex process of novitiate for-mation and to develop the skills and knowledge needed to do a good job. When left to function on their own, communities with just a trickle of novices tend to create a makeshift, ad hoc arrangement to handle the for-mation of the few. It seems that having several ongoing, large-group, com-mon novitiate programs which could accommodate novices from vari-ous communities that share the same charism or spirit of a founder would be helpful for meeting the need created by the drastic drop in recent years. None of this would be complete without a word about the inherent, not to say mind-boggling, paradox of religious life and growth. While we are called upon to use all of the knowledge and expertise at our dis-posal, it is the Holy Spirit who effects growth, who gives life, and whose gifts shape the soul--a Spirit who, much to the surprise, despair, and con-fusion of our best-made plans, still blows where it will. This does not Review for Religious, September-October 1988 relieve us of the responsibility of bringing what expertise we can muster to fostering human, spiritual growth. But it reminds us that it is the Holy Spirit, whose ways transcend all our human expertise and wisdom, often confounding them, who effects and shapes the growth we hope to facili-tate. NOTES ~ See Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M., "Planning the Novitiate Process: Reflections of an Anthro.pologist," in REVIEW FOR REL~6~Ot~S (July/August 1984): 532-546. , 2 Ibid., 15.~ 532. ~' 3 Ann and Barry Ulanov, Primary Speech: A Psychology of Prayer (Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1982), p. 20. '* Annotation # I, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, translated by Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Chicago: Loyola Upiversity Press, 1951). 5 Michael J. Buckley, S.J., "Final Vows in the Society of Jesus," in National Jes-uit News, vol. 10, no. 7, April 1981, p. 8. 6 Ibid., p. 9. 7 Ibid., p. 8. 8 Michael J. Buckley, S.J., "The Priesthood as a Religious Event," in The Berkeley Jesuit, spring 1970, p. 7. 9 "In all selection and testing of seminarians, necessary standards must always be firmly maintained, even when there exists a regrettable shortage of priests. For God will not allow his Church to lack ministers if worthy candidates are admitted while unsuitable ones are speedily and paternally directed towards the assuming of other tasks and are encouraged to take up the lay apostolate readily, in a consciousness of their Christian vocation." Paragraph 6, Decree on Priestly Formation (Optatam Totius), in The Documents of Vatican !I, ed. Walter Abbott, S.J. (New York: Amer-ica Press, 1966). ~0 John Westerhoff III and Gwen K. Neville, Generation to Generation: Conversa-tions on Religious Education and Culture (Philadelphia: United Church Press, 1974), p. 41. ~ Nos. 138-140, "The Spiritual Formation of Jesuits," in Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), pp. I I 1-113. See also no. 23, "Companions of Jesus Se~nt into Today's World," Decree # I, Documents of the 33rd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1984), p. 50. ~2 Quoted in Robert N. Bellah et al., Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Com-mitment in American Life (San Francisco: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1986), p. 37. ~3 Arbuckle, op. cit., pp. 540-545. ~': Ibid., p. 540. ~5 Ibid. ~6 Quoted ibid., pp. 542-543. t7 No. 22, Decree 8, "The Spiritual Formation of Jesuits," Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, p. 104. Is Ibid., no. 19, p. 103. 19 For an explanation of how praxis or experiential learning is applied to prayer, see my "Teach Us to Pray," in Company: A Magazine of the American Jesuits, vol. Novitiate Formation / 683 I, no. 3, April 1984, pp. 8-10. 2o For a discussion of the experience/reflection dynamic in learning about interper-sonal relationships, see my "Particular Friendships Revisited," in Human Devel-opment, vol. 7, no. I, spring 1986, pp. 34-38. 2~ Decree I, -#40, Documents of the 33rd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus. 22 John Dewey, Experience and Education (London: Collier-MacMillan Company, 1938), p. 25. 23 Ibid., p. 27 (emphasis in the original). 24 Gregory Baum, "Reply and Explanation," in Ecumenist, vol. 9, Nov.-Dec. 1970- Jan.-Feb. ! 971, p. 18. z5 John Haughey, S.J., Should Anyone Say Forever: On Making, Keeping, and Break-ing Commitments (Garden City, New York: Doubleday, 1975), pp. 23-24. 26 Leo lb. Rock, S.J., "The California Province Novitiate: What We Do and Why," an unpublished paper, September 1973, p. 4. 27 No. 24, Decree 8, "The Spiritual Formation of Jesuits," Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, p. 105. 28 John Courtney Murray, S.J., " The Danger of the Vows," in Woodstock Letters, fall 1967~, p~ 42 I. 29 For a discussion of obstacles to mature religious obedience, see my "Dealing with Projection: Recognizing and Removing a Common Obstacle to Mature Religious Obe-dience," in Human Development, vol. 6, no. I, spring 1985, pp. 6-1 I. 30 No. 23, Decree 8, " The Spiritual Formation," in Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, p. 105. 31 Nos. II and 12, Decree 17, "The Life of Obedience." Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, pp. 164-166. 32 John C. Futrell, S.J., Making an Apostolic Community of Love: The Role of the 'Superior According to St. Ignatius of Loyola (St. Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 143. Some Thoughts on the Vocation to Celibacy Clifford Stevens Father Stevens has been, over the course of many years, a Trappist, a parish priest, an Air Force chaplain, an editor of The Priest, and a small-town pastor. He has pub-lished a novel, Flame Out of Dorset, about St. Stephen Harding, twelfth-century Cis-tercian. Last appearing in our pages in 1986, he writes from the monaste(y he founded: Tintern; Monastery Road; Oakdale, Nebraska 68761. The very foundation of the vocation to celibacy must be the complete free-dom from compulsion with which the choice of celibacy is made. Free-dom from external compulsion, in that no one can be forced by external pressures to choose the celibate vocation, and freedom from internal pres-sures, ascetic, moral, spiritual, which would make the choice of celibacy anything but a conscious, free choice, based on something within the vo-cation to celibacy itself. The choice of celibacy is not a rejection or de-nial of the excellence of marriage. ~ It is rather an affirmation of realities that transcend sexuality and marriage.2 This "anthropological" base of the choice of celibacy is a critical factor in celibate happiness, and that celibate happiness is based precisely on the facts that [ could find happiness in marriage, that in choosing celi-bacy3 ! am just as free to choose marriage, and that marriage has a good-ness and nobility all its own. There is a profound reason for this complete freedom from compul-sion based on the specific excellence of celibacy itself, and not in com-parison with something else. The profound reason is this. The gift of sexuality and its directedness toward intimate expression'~ in marriage comes, with our very creation, from God's goodness, his wis-dom, and his benevolence. It is an integral part of our humanity and our 684 Thoughts on Celibacy masculinity, and no power on earth can deprive us of it because it comes with the~very blueprint of our nature. (This article looks at celibacy from a masculine point of view, not because the feminine viewpoint is not im-portant, but becduse it is outside the author's experience.) The ,gift of sexuality, in fact, is the root reality of our bodily exis-tence and of our masculine nature, and has a power and a goodness that enriches human life immeasurably. However we want to describe it, you and I, men endowed with all the gifts of a masculine nature, are shaped and fashioned by every ripple and nuance of our living flesh for physi-cal intimacy with a woman. To hide this from ourselves in the name of celibacy would rob the choice of celibacy of half its meaning. The choice of celibacy can never be based upon a denial or ignoring of the inherent goodness of sexuality or the preeminent goodness of sex-ual intimacy in marriage,s Moreover, it is possible to possess one's sexu-ality in this full awareness of its essential goodness, in complete inno-cence, with a wholesome sense of dignity, freedom, wonder, apd joy in its possession and, with the same complete innocence, to look forward to and experience its joyous expression in marriage; or, if one is a celi-bate, to be profoundly appreciative of its joyous expression in marriage, with the same complete innocence.6 The choice of celibacy is not based upon a lack of appreciation for sexual intimacy in marriage or upon any conviction that the experience of marriage is in any way displeasing to God. These are simply unsound anthropological bases upon which to build a vocation to celibacy and, unwittingly, they can plant deep in.the recesses of one's motivation a time bomb ready to go off. It is unfortunate that in the history of Christian spirituality the voca-tion to celibacy has often been explained in terms that denigrate the value and beauty of sexual love in marriage. The impression is given that the choice of celibacy is somehow a flight from something radically unspir-itual and that the celibate looks upon conjugal intimacy as something be-neath his dignity, something that would mar his perfect purity. The choice of celibacy, if it is genuine, has nothing of this motivation about it, but is based solidly and squarely upon something more positive and something more exhilarating. Celibacy must be based on a profound appreciation for the gift of sex-ual intimacy as personal gift and endowment from God and as an inte-gral part of one's masculine inheritance. Nobility of soul does not fail to plumb and to appreciate the riches of masculine possibility which is the natural inheritance of an awakened and full manhood. Review for Religious, September-October 1988 This possibility, with all its splendor and enrichment, does not ex-haust the human possibility, but it does enshrine some of its noblest in-stincts, of the feelings and of the mind, and an intimacy that mirrors the very passion of God himself. As a celibate I set aside intimacy with a woman, with all its rooms of joy and beauty, only for a greater intimacy and its even more won-drous rooms of beauty, and its universe of joy. But in doing so, I will not deny the power, the significance, or the magnitude of the masculine expectancy that I set aside and turn away from. This intimacy, by what-ever name it is called, is riveted into my very flesh; the lineaments of this passionate preoccupation are traced and interlaced in the warp and woof of my very biology. The gift of manhood with all its passionate possibilities is one of the richest gifts of God. I set it aside freely, not with no appreciation for its beauty, and not with regret, but because I have stumbled on a greater beauty, a more powerful intimacy, and a more earth-shaking encounter. In the shadow of that intimacy and in the tremor of this expectancy, every other human possibility fades into insignificance. I do not hide from myself the shattering loveliness and singular beauty of the sexual intimacy that could be mine, but celibacy reaches out to something greater, fully as rich, fully as valid, and as fully a com-plement to my manhood as the rich experience of love in marriage. This is the sound anthropological base upon which the vocation to celibacy is founded. It may not be part of one's original motivation since, in the beginnings of a vocation, you are simply too busy and too taken up with the excitement of a new direction to reflect upon every element of your motivation. But ultimately what is implicit in your choice must be made explicit by thought, reflection, and personal exploration, and there must not be in the root motivation of celibacy anything resembling spiritual or moral snobbery or looking down on marriage. The choice of celibacy must be based upon some excellence in the vocation of celibacy itself, and not in mere comparison with something else. Only then can the specific excellence of the vocation to celibacy become part of your own life,~and--I am sure I do not have to repeat--thespecific excellence of celibacy is not the fact that you do not have a woman in your life or that you sleep alone. This is a necessary condition, but if that is all that celibacy means to you, you could end up being the most miserable of men, deprived of the crowning act of your masculine nature, the finest and noblest expression of your manhood, with nothing to take its place. That would be a deprivation of singular magnitude. Thoughts on Celibacy And this is something that we should never forget: As celibates we deprive ourselves of this crowning act of our masculine nature, the fin-est and most genuine expression of our masculinity that is sexual inti-macy in marriage. If that terrifying vacuum were not filled with some-thing that touched with joy the very roots of our manhood, the dep-rivation and emptiness would be almost too much to bear. This is one of the consequences of celibacy that has not often been touched upon, but it certainly explains some of the strange aberrations of clerical and religious life and some of the tragic consequences of an ill-motivated and immature commitment to celibacy. One of the major problems in the vocation to celibacy is that many celibates have not through deep personal reflection made explicit in their own minds what was implicit in their choice of celibacy and have ac-cepted, quite uncritically, an evaluation of sexuality in general, and of their own sexuality in particular, that is based on tenets of a Neoplaton-ist and Stoic anthropology embodied in an older type of spirituality. This evaluation notonly placed no value upon sexuality itself, but tended to denigrate as totally unworthy of the spiritual person the inti-mate expression of sexuality in marriage, thus negating the very mean-ing of sexuality and placing a negative judgment on the very possession of one's sexuality. Really, it all starts and ends there: What evaluation and judgment do you place upon the intimate expression of sexuality in marriage? If that judgment is a negative one, you can never really be com-fortable in the possession of your own sexuality. The true Christian evaluation of sexual intimacy in marriage, based upon the vision of sexual love embodied in the Christian revelation it-self, is that the intimate expression of sexual love in marriage is (i) the crowning act (in fa~zt, the primary and unique act) of one's manhood, (2) the finest, noblest, and most genuine expression of one's masculinity, (3) the unique expression of love between a man and a woman, (4) God's crowning gift to one's bodily existence, and (5) the gr,eatest earthly gift that God has given to the human race. This is implicit in the very choice of celibacy, even though that evalu-ation may not have been part of the conscious motivation when the choice of celibacy was made. Historically, the negative sexual tenets we have mentioned are part of a North African phenomenon that included Neoplatonism in Alexan-dria, the monastic movement in the same area, the spirituality of Eva-grius Ponticus, Tertullian, and St. Augustine (and the ascetic movement in the West), and the monastic spirituality of John Cassian, who reflected Review for Religious, September-October 1988 in his writings the sexual anthropology of the Alexandrian monastic move-ment. A healthier anthropology can be found in the robust passion for life in the classical Greek tradition, reflected in the best of Plato and the monu-mental work of Aristotle, later embodied in the Spirituality of the Greek Fathers and in the philosophical achievements of Saints Albertus Mag, nus and Thomas Aquinas. That anthropology recognized the inherent goodness of our senses and our sense life, the inherent goodness of hu-man sexuality, and the innate and preeminent goodness of the intimate expression of sex in marriage. This view, however, was never embod-ied in "traditional" spirituality and had little influence on spiritual doc-trine. The work of Aquinas, however, bore fruit in many areas over the cen-turies even though some of his basic tenets were condemned by an older "Augustinian" sChool soon after his death in 1274. In the documents of the Second Vatican Council, particularly, Gaudium et.Spes, the Aqui. nas view was recovered, and we have in the council documents a posi-tive and wholesome anthropology of sexuality7 which should have a pro-found influence on future spirituality. NOTES ~ "Students should have a proper knowledge of the duties and dignity of Christian marriage, which represents the love.that exists between Christ and the Church." Op-tatam Totius, Decree on the Training of Priests of the Second Vatican Council, ed. by Austin Flannery, 0.P~., no., 10, p. 715. 2 "They should recognize the greater excellence of virginity consecrated to Christ, however, so that they may offer themselves to the Lord with fully deliberate and gen-erous choice, and a complete surrender of body and soul." ibid. 3 Celibacy seeks, on the basis of personal:experience and personal judgment, a con~ tinual intimacy with God and with divine things; it provides that personal solitude without which, for this p_articular individual, such continual intimacy with God would be impossible or unlikely. Celibacy is not chosen because there is any value in mere sexual deprivation, but because it is a natural step towards a lifestyle totally or domi-nantly preoccupied with the eternal and the divine. Celibacy bears witness in one's own person to the eternal dimension, to the reality and significance of the eternal in human life. '~ For the purpose of this article, sexuality and sexual intima~3, have these meanings: Sexuality is a gift of God that comes with the act of creation, a personal endowment that should be borne with a certain masculine dignity and yet worn joyfully~ and lightly. Our sexuality is inherent'ly good, and so, too, is the intimacy with a wdman to which it leads. Sexual intimacy is a gift of God that comes with the very blueprint of our nature, Thoughts on Celibacy in the sense that the pattern of that intimacy is molded into our very bodies. Sexual intimacy is part of our human and masculine inheritance, and its expression in mar-riage the very crown of masculinity and femininity. But while sexual intimacy is a gift to our person and our nature, its expression is meant to be embodied in a personal choice based on love, embedded in the marriage covenant, and to be the setting and inexhaustible source of the deepest human hap-piness. Sexual intimacy comes with our nature and our personhood. It is the living expres-sion of the noblest human love and is itself the image and mirror of God's own love for human beings. By celibacy we freely deprive ourselves of this most enriching gift,'this crown of our masculinity, for the simple reason that we, called by God, have other plans for ourselves. 5 The nature of the vocation to celibacy is not a denial of the inherent goodness and sublimity of married love, but an affirmation, the affirmation of something beyond the sexual and beyond the earthly, the affirmation of another relationship and the cul-tivation of that relationship as the main occupation of one's life. Celibacy is a dep-rivation, but it is a freely chosen deprivation of something seen to be part of one's own human inheritance and something preeminently good. St. Thomas links celi-bacy to the virtue of magnificence, a certain exuberance in living, a bursting of the bonds of the ordinary to reach out to the extraordinary. It is based on a hunger for the eternal and for an intimacy as real and as stunning as the intimacy of man and woman in marriage. See Josef Pieper, The Four Cardinal Virtues (University of Notre Dame Press, 1966), pp. 145-180.' 6 Celibacy is part of the virtue of sophrosyne, touched upon in Aristotle's Ethics, with a fuller treatment in the Summa Theologiae of St. Thomas Aquinas. The object of sophrosyne is the body, and those things that are of the body (soma, somatos). There are several levels or kinds of sophrosyne: (I) joy and pride in bodily being itself (simple sophrosyne), (2) joy and pride in bodily well-being (dignity), (3) joy and pride in bodily senses (liveliness), (4)joy and pride

Issue 41.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1982. ; 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. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REviEw FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in, U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVtEW FOR RELIGtOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1982 Volume 41 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIF:W FOR RV:HG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RF:VlF:W F'OR RF:IaG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Familiaris Consortio: Themes and Theses Robert F. Morneau Bishop Morneau continues his commentaries on papal documents with this present article which, though not directly concerned with religious life, has much to say about being Christian. Bishop Morneau, Auxiliary Bishop of the Green Bay diocese, continues his work with the Ministry to Priests Program, and may be addressed at that office: 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. On November 22, 1981, Pope John Paul I1 issued an apostolic exhortation Familiaris Consortio.~ This document on the family followed the Synod of Bishops n~eeting that dealt at length with issues of family life. A vast range of topics was discussed: I) the role of the family--its identity and mission. The centraliky of love was stressed with great clarity. 2) The meaning of human sexual-ity, meaning which can be found only when sexuality is perceived in relationship to the whole person and to the plan of God. 3) The call to the family to participate in the development of society. This challenge prevents a narrow parochialism and urges a social consciousness that is inclusive. 4) The character of rights for the family. Without justice there will be no peace in the home or among nations. 5) Concern for the hurting. Compassion demands that we reach out to the families that are broken and experiencing loss of any kind. Documents such as this exhortation serve a most important purpose in life, i.e., the sharing of a vision. Parker J. Palmer writes of the need for vision: Finally, we need to seek and find the grounds of Christian hope in the midst of our public crisis. Those grounds are to be found in God's promise of reconciliation and God's faithful-ness to that promise. We will touch that ground and root ourselves in it through prayer and ~'Apostolic Exhortati~, Familiaris Consortio, of His H~liness Pope John Paul II to the Episcopate, to the Clergy and the Faithful of the whole Catholic Church regarding the Role of the Christian Family in the Modern World (Rome: Vatican Polyglot Press, Nov. 22, 1981, pp. 176). 481 till2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 contemplation--not as an isolated individual act, but as directed and disciplined within the community of faith. Just as private and public life are halves of a larger whole, so private prayer and public worship are meant to be as one. In all these ways the Church can help renew that vision without which the people perish!2 In a society that is pluralistic, in a world ajar with great changes, in a Church undergoing rapid development, the vision of the family is bound to be obscured. Whatever can help clarify the basic elements of family life and its interdependence with the Church and society is invaluable in daily decision making. Familiaris Consortio provides a vision from which to evaluate and plan. Unfortunately, because of its length, this document may well find its way to the shelf unmarked and unread, suffering the same fate as Pacem in Terris, Laborem Exercens, and Redemptor Hominis. If this happens, th~ vision remains at a certain level of leadership but never gets into the minds and the hearts of the people. The problem is one of communication. This article attempts to give a general overview of the central themes of the document; its aim is to attract the reader to the primary source itself. Theme 1: Family T~esis: The Christian Family is a community of persons committed to self-giving and fidelity. The family, which is founded and given life by love, is a community of persons: of husband and wife, of parents and children, of relatives, Its first task is to live with fidelity the reality of communion in a constant effort to develop an authentic community of persons (18). The family is the first and fundamental school of social living: as a community of love, it finds in self-giving the law that guides it and makes it grow. The self-giving that inspires the love of husband and wife for each other is the model and norm for the self-giving that must be practiced in the relationships between brothers and sisters and the different generations living together in the family. And the communion and sharing that are part of everyday life in the home at times of joy and at times of difficulty are the most concrete and effective pedagogy for the active, responsible and fruitful inclusion of the children in the wider horizon of society (37). Loving the family means being able to appreciate its values and capabilities, fostering them always. Loving the family means identifying the dangers and the evils that menace it, in order to overcome them. Loving the family means endeavoring to create for it an environment favorable for its development (86). In his strong and sensitive novel A Death in the Family, James Agee writes of the delicate bonds of family life. Those bonds were ruptured when the father of the family was killed in a car accident. His son Rufus cries out to his mother: "Hide 'n Seek's just a game,just a game. God doesn't fool around playing games, does He, Mama! Does He! Does He!" The story paints the intersecting lines of relatives and friends offering sympathy and advice, raising questions and sharing consolation. A community of persons dealing with life and death, faith and doubt, joy and sorrow. A family at once imbued with love and yet wrenched with selfishness. 2Parker J. Palmer, The Company of Strangers iNew York: Crossroad, 1981), p. 33. Familiaris Consortio 483 Agee masterfully tells of people striving to sustain relationships in adverse orcum-stances, striving to comprehend life in the face of death. This finely tuned story provides an example of family life; the apostolic exhortation addresses itself to such a community and offers a faith perspective for dealing with life's questions. The backbone of family life is community. When a group of people lives out a common value system in which each individual is deeply loved and challenged, a oneness is formed which we call community. It ismore a process than a state of being. Its organic nature means that things never remain the same. This constant flux is not to be understood negatively. Rather, this positive change is called growth, the development which underlies every healthy family. The values are constant, their implementation and application continue to vary. Community happens when people truly care and share. The central act of the family and community is self-giving: the ability to be with and for others in a loving and compassionate way. This act is not without its risks. While it can and often does lead to acceptance, such sharing can also lead to rejection. Relationships demand trust, that invisible elixir, which creates an atmosphere in which dialogue and revelation can happen. Where do we find authentic family life? Where self-giving, trust, sharing and love abide! The prophets of the Hebrew scriptures confronted the people with the sin that destroyed the family of Israel: infidelit!! Hosea would say: "My people are dis-eased through their disloyalty" (Ho 11:7). The haunting motto semperfidelis must not be ignored. Family life and community depend upon depth commitment that is able to withstand the fierce testing of crises and weaknesses. Much grace is needed, especially in a culture that accepts infidelity as being "only human." Humorously, if sadly, we speak about a dog as being man's best friend--yet the fidelity of a dog does at times outrun human commitment. Often the apostolic document draws our attention to the power, necessity and beauty of fidelity. Theme 2: Sacrament of Marriage Thesis: The sacrament of marriage is God's special grace enlightening a couple to see their true vocation and empowering them to five it. The gift of the sacrament is at the same time a vocation and commandment for the Christian spouses, that they may remain faithful to each other forever, beyond every trial and difficulty, in generous obedience to the holy will of the Lord: "What therefore God has joined together. let not man put asunder" (20). A vivid and attentive awareness of the mission that they have received with the sacrament of marriage will help Christian parents to place themselves at the service of their children's education with great serenity and trustfulness, and also with a sense of responsibility before God, who calls them and gives them the mission of building up the Church in their children. Thus in the case of baptized people, the family, called together by word and .sacrament as the Church of the home. is both teacher and mother, the same as the worldwide Church (38). The social role that belongs to every family pertains by a new and original right to the Christian family, which is based on the sacrament of marriage. By taking up the human reality of the love between husband and wife in all its implications, the sacrament gives to Christian couples and parents a power and commitment to live their vocation as lay people and therefore to "seek the kingdom of God by engaging in temporal affairs and by ordering them 4~ltl / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 according to the plan of God" (47). The sacrament of marriage is the specific source and original means of sanctification for Christian married couples and families. It takes up again and makes specific the sanctifying . grace of baptism (56). God is love! In divine self-giving we receive that love which we call grace. Faith allows us to experience the mystery that God has made his home in our hearts, that we are indeed temples of the Spirit. As blood flows through our systems providing life and energy, so grace flows through life affording participation in the Divine Reality. Freely given, it must be freely accepted and exercised. Such gifted-ness does impose serious demands on the individual and the community. Because of this there is a tendency to resist the reception of God's love and to opt for that "cheap grace" which seemingly makes no demands. Such a choice is fatal because it is a lie. Grace will always remain true to its essence: love calling out to love. Once received it must be shared lest one's very integrity be shattered. Grace comes to married life and love through the sacrament of marriage in a very special way. This visible sign of God's incomprehensible love brings about what it signifies: union and holiness. Such is the vocation for all people. God provides specific help to couples who have special demands in the nurturing and sustaining of unique relationships. The sacrament has two sides: invitation and imperative. By means of the invitation each couple builds up the Church and by fulfilling the imperative they participate in the work of salvation. In order that this be known and deeply sensed, the apostolic exhortation stresses the significance of adequate preparation. An understanding of the meaning of grace, as well as the invitation and imperative that underlie it, is crucial to successful married life. Proper disposition makes possible a full response. Here, as in most situations, ignorance is not bliss. Anwar eI-Sadat, in his autobiography In Search of Identity, reflects on a central question of life, one's vocation: Without a vocation, man's existence would be meaningless. We have been created to bear the responsibility God has entrusted us with. Though different, each man should .fulfill his specific vocation and shoulder his individual responsibility? Marriage is a vocation, one sanctified by a sacrament. God's calling is accompan-ied by the necessary help enabling an adequate response in the light of one's gifts and talents. A sense of identity enriches family life and interpersonal relationships. Without this self-awareness, the inner poverty of relationships results in destructive deprivation. Only a sense of one's vocation allows for the proper ordering of life's many demands. Marriage as a basic vocation claims centrality: work, play and social engagements all take a secondary role. A constant challenge in life is to get in touch with one's vocation and to maintain an abiding awareness of this mystery. Theme 3: Mission/Task of the Family Thesis: Christian families are called to receive and share the divine graces of life and love. Looking at it in such a way as to reach its very roots we must say that the essence and role of Familiaris Consortio / the family are in the final analysis specified by love. Hence the family has the mission to guard, reveal and communicate love, and this is a living reflection of and a real sharing in God's love for humanity and the love of Christ the Lord for the Church his bride (17). Thus. with love as its point of departure and making constant reference to it, the recent Synod emphasized four general tasks for the family: I) forming a community of persons: 2) serving life: 3) participating in the development of society; 4) sharing in the life and mission of the Church (17). Therefore love and life constitute the nucleus of the saving mission of the Christian family in the Church and for the Church (50). A movie, novel, or a walk through Disneyland often offer a moment of escape from the harsher realities of life. In the film Raiders of the Lost Ark impossible missions are pulled off one after another. Sheer enjoyment, totally unreal. After such moments we reenter the real world: the world of work, the world of interna-tional conflict, the world of the family. Missions here seem impossible as well: to bring about justice, to foster peace, to live love. Indeed, without grace and great personal effort, the task is overwhelming, if not impossible: with discipline and divine assistance the ideals of justice, peace and love become historical realities. Authors from various disciplines have constantly commented on the task and mission of the family: love and life. A father did not visit his son, nor the son his father. Charity was dead? I've always been intense about relationships. At times, my love overwhelms people. And it puzzles me. My business is to IoveP ¯. and Alyosha's heart could not endure uncertainty because his love was always of an active character. He was incapable of passive love. If he loved any one. he set to work at once to love him? Thus writes Barbara Tuchman in her excellent study A Distant Mirror; in The Belle of Amherst playwright William Luce puts words into the mouth of Emily Dickinson; Dostoevsky too ponders the movements and the mystery of love in his character Alyosha. There is a certain messiness in the mission. Oftentimes motives are mixed in trying to love. Grace faces blockage and detours at every turn. Infrequent success and daily failures can be discouraging. 'Yet the moments of concern, care, respect and love--the central vocation of the human heart--are breakthroughs of healing redemptive life. The exhortation strikes dead center in urging families to guard love from every danger, to reveal love in trust and openness, to communicate love through honest dialogue. The mission is realized by means of such activity. Four specific tasks are delineated for the family: 1) The mission of forming 3Anwar eI-Sadat, In Search of Identity (New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1977), p. 82. aBarbara Tuchman, A Distant Mirror (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1978), p. 97. 5William l,uce, The Belle of A~nherst (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1976), p. 30. ~'Fyodor Dostoevsky. The Brothers Karamazov (New York: International Collectors Library, 1941), p. 171. 111~6 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 interpersonal relationships, of building community. Such formation demands time and self-giving; it is endangered by loss of identity and ambiguity about central values. 2) The mission of serving life by protecting the procreative and unitive functions of married love. Education and ongoing training are also tasks of par-ents. 3) The mission of participating in societal and political changes of society. Reaching out to the larger community prevents a destructive individualism. 4) The mission of becoming church. Through love, Christ is made present in our homes and in our world. Theme 4: Love Thesis: The heartbeat and central principle of family life is love. God is love and in himself he lives a mystery of personal loving communion. Creating the human race in his own image and continually keeping it in being, God inscribed in the humanity of man and woman the vocation, and thus the capacity and responsibility, of love and communion. Love is therefore the fundamental and innate vocation of every human being ( I I ). The inner principle of that task (to develop an authentic community of persons), its perma-nent power and its final goal is love: without love the family is not a community of persons and, in the same way, without love the family cannot live. grow and perfect itself as a community of persons (I 8). It cannot be forgotten that the most basic element, so basic that it qualifies the educational role of parents, is parental love. which finds fulfillment in the task of education as it completes and perfects its service of life: as well as being a source, the parent's love is also the animating principle and therefore the norm inspiring and guiding all concrete educational activity, enriching it with the values of kindness, constancy, goodness, service, disinterestedness, and self-sacrifice that are the most precious fruits of love (36). Vocation is a mystery. Who can explain exactly how a call comes into our lives and what makes it possible to respond? Faith offers some reflections on this matter and the Second Vatican Council clearly states that all people are called to holiness. The present document says the same thing but in a different way: the intrinsic calling of every person is love. How this universal vocation is lived out is deter-mined by the specific path an individual chooses: single life, married life, religious life. In a sense there is both freedom and determination here. We are free to choose our unique path, we are not free not to be loving and still retain our humanity. Romano Guardini understood well the process involved in discerning one's vocation: A vocation is no label marked "chosen" which can be fixed to a hum~in existence once and forever. It is a living intention of God, efficacy of his love in the chosen one. Only through the action taken by that person can it become reality.7 The family is inextricably involved in the vocation question. The pragmatic "how" question arises in the search for love and community within the family circle. Many forces that tend to block love and concern must be dealt with. How 7Roma~ao Guardini, The Lord (Chica~o: Henry Regnery Company, 1954), p. 94. Familiaris Consortio / 4117 can we live simple and fruitful lives in a culture characterized by chaos and violence? The good news of the Gospel draws our attention to the person of Jesus in whom we find love incarnate. The basic command is not merely a verbal communication--it is a lived reality. Before preaching, Jesus so often heals, frees, forgives--only then does he explain in word what has taken place. Such self-giving is the model for the family, the domestic church. Jesus shares with that church his Spirit that enables its members to fulfill the perfect command to be loving, forgiv-ing people. And within all this is a paradox: "Jesus' authentic power is revealed in his frailty and importance.'~ The power of powerlessness lies at the heart of love, at the heart of the family. Roots determine fruits. Where authentic parental love exists as the source of family life, then the possibility of various virtues finding expression in the lives of its members is probable. The apostolic exhortation lists six: I) Kindness: that attitude and action that affirms and strengthens one another: 2) Constancy: that rich fidelity fostering trust; 3) Goodness: love incarnate in a small word, gracious deed; 4) Service: awareness of and response to the needs of others; 5) Disinterested-ness: that unique self-forgetfulness in being for and with others: 6) Self-sacrifice: that realism that all love involves a cross. The vocation to love and to be loved is fulfilled only in grace. Theme 5: Sexuality Thesis: Sexuality finds its full meaning only when seen in the context of the human person, God's plan and love. Consequently, sexuality, by means of which man and woman give themselves to one another through the acts which are proper and exclusive to spouses, is by no means something purely biological, but concerns the innermost being of the human person as such. It is realized in a truly human way only if it is an integral part of the love by which a man and a woman commit themselves totally to one another until death. The total physical self-giving would be a lie if it were not the sign and fruit of a total personal self-giving, in which the whole person, including the temporal dimension, is present: if the person were to withhold something or reserve the possibility of deciding otherwise in the future, by this very fact he or she would not be giving totally (I I). In the context of a culture which seriously distorts or entirely misinterprets the true meaning of human sexuality, because it separates it from its essential reference to the person, the Church more urgently feels how irreplaceable is her mission of presenting sexuality as a value and task of the whole person, created male and female in the image of God (32). Education in love as self-giving is also the indispensable premise for parents called to give their children a clear and delicate sex education. Faced with a culture that largely reduces human sexuality to the level of something commonplace, since it interprets and lives it in a reductive and impoverished way by linking it solely with the body and with selfish pleasure, the educational service of parents must aim firmly at a training in the area of sex that is truly and fully personal: for sexuality is an enrichment of the whole person--body, emotions and soul--and it manifests its inmost meaning in leading the person to the gift of self in love (37). ~Jon Sobrino, S.J. Christology at the Crossroads. trans, by John Drury (New York: Orbis Books. 1978), p. 281. 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 When things are disconnected, they become distorted. The absolutizing ten-dency to identify a part for the whole is not uncommon. A recent movie/play, The Elephant Man, demonstrates what happens when a single moment of life excludes other factors. Most people were unable to move beyond the elephant man's deformity and penetrate to the rich, inner beauty of his person. Sexuality has suffered over the years from the absolutizing impulse that has fragmented this great and powerful gift. When sexuality is reduced to physicality, emotionality or pleasure, meaning is lost. Familiaris Consortio presents a different vision. Here sexuality is understood as an integral part of the personality. It has meaning only in reference to the person and authentic love. This integral vision provides mean-ing and allows for prudential decision on how the gift will be used. Vision and virtue help to order this radical power in our lives. Though complex, sexuality is not incomprehensible; though innately powerful, sexuality is not uncontrollable. Certain things in history are a matter of life and death. One of these is human sexuality. Abundant life flows when this gift of sexuality is used with proper regard for the individual and is an expression of authentic love. Physical, emotional and spiritual life are all enriched. However, when sexuality is misused and becomes a form of manipulation or exploitation, few things are as destructive. Death is the consistent effect of unprincipled use of human sexuality. Here truth is abandoned, a lie is lived. The fruits are well-known: deception, secretiveness, joylessness, angst, boredom--exit Mrs. Robinson. Thus the paradox: that which can be most life-giving is capable of causing infinite harm. Sex education is an urgent need today. This obligation is frustrated because of confusion in regard to sexual matters, breakdown in communication, sheer ne-glect. Much information regarding sexual matters is transmitted through the mass media and peer groups, often highly distorted and erroneous. Justice is at stake. The child has the right to know; the duty rests primarily on parents. Assistance is often needed and other bodies (church and schools) get involved. One point must be stressed: ¯. the Church is firmly opposed to an often widespread form of imparting sex information dissociated from moral principle (37). The key issue is clear: human sexuality must always be dealt with in context: the context of love, the human person and God's plan. Theme 6: Education Thesis: Education is a primary duty and right of parents; the full growth and development of children depend upon the exercise of this obligation, The task of giving education is rorted in the primary vocation of married couples to partici-pate in God's creative activity: by begetting in love and for love a new person who has within himself or herself the vocation to growth and development, parents by that very fact take on the task of helping that person effectively to live a fully human life (36). According to the plan of God, marriage is the foundation of the wider community of the family, since the very institution of marriage and conjugal love are ordained to the procreation and education of children, in whom they find their crowning (14). Familiaris Consonio / 489 The mission to educate demands that Christian parents should present to their children all the topics that are necessary for the gradual maturing of their personality from a Christian and ecclesial point of view. They will therefore follow the educational lines mentioned above. taking care to show their children the depths of significance to which the faith and love of Jesus Christ can lead (39). Full growth and development demand education. This process of learning is of special significance in the first decade of a person's life. Here the twig is bent, the fate of the tree deeply influenced. In the confines of the home a type of informal education is always at work. By osmosis children are assimilating the values, thoughts and life-style of their parents. There will be times of more formal educa-tion: planned discussion, structured dialogue, explicit exchange of facts and per-spectives. Whether formal or informal, the learning process nourishes the mind and heart as food does the body. Intellectual needs are as deep as bodily ones. If deprived of proper feeding, strange compensatory behavior sets in, causing serious disorder or relationships. If nourishment is well balanced, the result is a healthy home and society. Given the limitations of time, talent and skills, parents will necessarily reach out to others for help in the fulfillment of this primary obligation to educate their children. This appeal for help should not lead to abdication. Certain things can only be learned in the home: the art of sustaining relationships in close quarters, the ability to deal with moods over long periods of time, the gift of hospitality to strangers. In these and other areas, parents are always teaching, if not in word, certainly by their actions. To succeed in this duty parents must continue their own education. The formation of parents through information and transformation is necessary for the full dex~elopment of the family. In an age of rapid ~:hange and high activism, there is a special lesson that parents can teach their children, the lesson of silence: We have yet to accept and act upon the axiom that the cultivation of a habit of silence is an integral part of all true education; and that children, so far from looking upon a demand for silence as an unnatural and intolerable imposition, have an inborn aptitude for quietness.9 Such silence gives access to the voice of God and the deeper recesses of oneself. Contemplation then becomeg a possibility and this activity is essential to a full, human life. Constant activity and incessant noise destroy the conditions for true humanness: loving attention and presence to others. A quiet period in the day could well be one of the greatest blessings a child might learn from parents and the Theme 7: Society Thesis: The mutual relationship between family and society must be carefully Herman. Creative Prayer (Cincinnati. Ohio: Forward Movement Publications). p. 33. Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 nurtured and lovingly critiqued. The family has vital and organic links with society, since it is its foundation and nourishes it continually through its role of service to life: it is from the family that citizens come to birth and it is within the family that they find the first school of the social virtues that are the animating principle of the existence and development of society itself (42). The social role of families is called upon to find expression also in the form of political intervention: families should be the first to take steps to see that the laws and institutions of the State not only do not offend but support and positively defend the rights and duties of the family. Along these lines, families should grow in awareness of being "protagonists" of what is known as "family politics" and assume responsibility for transforming society: otherwise families will be the first victims of the evils that they have done no more than note with indifference. The Second Vatican Council's appeal to go beyond an individualistic ethic therefore also holds good for the family as such (44), The family and society have complementary functions in defending and fostering the good of each and every human being (45). The privatization of religion is a constant danger. This attitude compartmen-talizes one's relationship with God, separating it from economic, socio-political, cultural issues. Christians must be constantly challenged to assume their proper role in society by fostering a public outlook: A public outlook among Christians asks them to care for the good ordering of people who are not saved and may never be. It means having concern for arts and letters, the quality of life and its cultural dimensions, the institutions of education and the forms of politics--even if there is no direct payoff for the churches.~° This linkage to the larger social whole was a major concern at the Second Vatican Council: the Church is to participate in the amelioration of the world by being socially conscious and politically concerned. Again this vision is shared in Famil-iaris Consortio. Families are to participate in social happenings in dynamic and varied ways. Non-involvement will often threaten human dignity and justice since a vacuum will be created if people abdicate their duty of articulating and living Christian values. The notion of responsibility underlies the mutual relationships between family and society. This responsibility is grounded in power. The individual, the family, the society, the church and the state, all possess this ability to bring about or prevent change. When all these parties exercise responsible power in fostering the common good, then justice and peace result. The common good is served. Yet vested interest tends to direct energies and gifts meant for the growth of the community toward self-serving and self-preserving needs and wants. Injustice is effected and society and the family are greatly harmed. The exercise of power for the common good and the proper assumption of responsibility by each grouping are of vital importance to the Church and the modern world. Rugged individualism will continue to thwart the creation of a healthy society. Narrow parochialism, social myopia, crass apathy, indulgent consumerism, afro- *°Reflection of Martin E. Marty in Parker J. Palmer's The Company of Strangers, p. 13. Familiaris Consortio / 49"1 gant nationalism are cancer sores that mar and rend the human heart and human family. Society will never be rid of these illnesses but they can be minimized by fostering a social consciousness that truly sees others as one's brothers and sisters. This consciousness begins at home or it never begins at all. Parents enrich society by their involvement in societal and political issues and by encouraging their children to participate as fully as they can. Theme 8: Church Thesis: The family as the domestic church gets its true identity and sense of purpose from its ecclesial nature. Christian marriage and the Christian family build up the Church: for in the family the human person is not only brought into being and progressively introduced by means of education into the human community, but by means of the rebirth of baptism and education in the faith, the child is also introduced into God's family, which is the Church (15). Among the fundamental tasks of the Christian family is its ecclesial task: the family is placed at the service of the building up of the kingdom of God in history by participating in the life and mission of the Church (49). The Church, a prophetic, priestly and kingly people, is endowed with the mission of bringing all human beings to accept the word of God in faith, to celebrate and profess it in the sacraments and in prayer, and to give expression to it in the concrete realities of life in accordance with the girl and new commandment of love (63). There is a rich symbiotic relationship between the family and the Church. They need each other; they enrich each other. Through the family new life is raised up, potential members of God's family; through the Church, the grace of baptism gives entrance into the community of disciples. The family is as integral to the Church as cells are to the body. Both the community of the family and the Church are about the same task: acceptance and proclamation .of the Good News, worship in spirit and in truth, service to those in need out of love, the building up of the kingdom. In a special way the Church does this through sacramental, apostolic and educa-tional avenues; the family does it by living faith, hope and love in ordinary and concrete situations. Several times in this apostolic exhortation Pope John Paul 1! stresses the building of the kingdom of God in history. Our liturgy describes some aspects of that kingdom: a kingdom of truth and life, a kingdom of holiness and grace, a kingdom of justice, love and peace.~ The Church and family intersect at this junction. Both strive to promote the realities of God's saving mysteries. Both are at the service of Jesus, the Lord of heaven and earth. Both find in him truth and life; in him the oneness with the Father; in him the love that makes justice and peace reality. Christ Jesus is the "Preface for the Feast of Christ the King. 4~)2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 center of the Christian home and the Church. Romano Guardini refreshes our faltering memories: "Faith" in the sense of the New Testament means not only religious trust, reverence, self-surrender, but something specific: man's relationship to Christ and to the God who speaks through him which Christ demanded.~2 Two phenomena characterize the twentieth century: confusion about identity and the subsequent loss of meaning. Who are we? What are we to do? What is our destiny? The Church has a self-understanding that embraces mystery. Yet the task is clear: be a prophetic, kingly and priestly people! With such a vision the Christian family comes to its own self-understanding: the family also is to be a community of persons and the task and mission is the same as the Church's. No small grace here. Amid all the confusion and ambig6ity a sense of direction and purpose emerges. Energies can now be directed in meaningful ways. The Christian family is deeply enriched by seeing and living this relationship with the Church. Theme 9: Values Thesis: Family life is grounded in the knowledge and expression of basic gospel values. Christian families can do this (bear witness to the kingdom and the peace of Christ) through their educational activity--that is to say by presenting to their children a model of life based on the values of truth, freedom, justice and love--both through active and responsible involvement in the authentically human growth of society and its institutions, and by support-ing in various ways the associations specifically devoted to international issues (48). The Christian family also builds up the kingdom of God in history through the everyday realities that concern and distinguish its state of life. It is thus in the love between husband and wife and between the members of the family--a love lived out in all its extraordinary richness of values and demands: totality, oneness, fidelity and fruitfulness--that the Christian family's participation in the prophetic, priestly and kingly mission of Jesus Christ and of his Church finds expression and reali:,ation (50). Many negative phenomena which are today noted with regret in family life derive from the fact that. in the new situations, young people not only lose sight of the correct hierarchy of values but, since they no longer have certain criteria of behavior, they do not know how to face and deal with the new difficulties (66). Freedom, truth, justice, love, totality, oneness, fidelity, fruitfulness! These are the pillars (values) that support the community of persons we call the family, society and church. The importance of these values can readily be seen in contrast to their opposites: enslavement, falsity, injustice, hatred, non-commitment, divi-sion, infidelity, sterility. None of these categories are ultimately abstract; they. are not esoteric philosophical constructs. Rather, they provide the attitudinal base from which life is lived. Values shape decisions which in turn terminate in concrete action. Our actions have consequences that either humanize or destroy people. In evaluating our lives we move beyond specific, individual acts to the root system-- the values from whence they flow. These values truly characterize the essence of ~2Romano Guardini. p. 436. Familiaris Consortio / 493 our personality. Choices in life! To teach in the catechetical program or spend more time with the children; to build a new room onto the house or give more money to the poor: to take in a refugee child or prod the government to promote international justice. These choices are not necessarily exclusive but a theology of limitation restricts how much we can do. The formation of conscience is based not only on values but also the ordering of these values. What is helpful here is a guiding vision: To be an effective member of the Church. one needs a guiding vision. Such a vision should serve to interpret one's experience of life with fellow-believers, to suggest priorities and values, and to indicate ways in which the Church might make itself more effectively present in today's world.13 Value-free homes and societies are dissipated homes and societies, lacking direc-tion and purpose. Values provide a sense of meaning. The constant process of value clarification is urgently needed. The social scien-ces have methods to discern when values are truly authentic and when they are merely nominal. Internalized values have the markings of free choice, strong affective force and patterned activity. Clarifying our values helps to promote civil discourse, a discourse that is essential to keep our planet partially civilized. When values are confused and misunderstood, debate turns into a diatribe. Political, social and religious issues become muddied and constructive communication ceases. Value clarification is not the solution to world problems, but without some clarity there can be no progress. What is true of larger society is also true of the home. Clear values nourish healthy family life. Theme 10: Dangers and Difficulties Thesis: Inner and outer forces present major challenges to the delicate health of family life. On the other hand, however, signs are not lacking of a disturbing degradation of some fundamental values: a mistaken theoretical and practical crncept of the independence of the spouses in relation to each other: serious misconceptions regarding the relationship of author-ity between parents and children: the concrete difficulties that the family itself experiences in the transmission of values: the growing number of divorces: the scourge of abortion: the ever more frequent recourse to sterilization: the appearance of a truly contraceptive mentality (6). Consequently. faced with a society that is running the risk of becoming more and more depersonalized and standardized and therefore inhuman and dehumanizing, with the negative results of many forms of escapism--such as alcoholism, drugs and even terrorism--the family possesses and continues still to release formidable energies capable of taking man out of his anonymity, keeping him conscious of his personal dignity, enriching him with deep humanity and actively placing him, in his uniqueness and unrepcatability, within the fabric of society (43). Among the more troubling signs of this phenomenon (obscuring of certain fundamental values), the Synod Fathers stressed the following, in particular: the spread of divorce and of recourse to a new union, even on the part of the faithful" the acceptance of purely civil ~-~Avery Dulles, "Imaging the Church for the 1980"s." Thought. vo!. 56. no. 221 (June, 1981), p. 121. 4~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 marriage in contradiction to the vocation of the baptized to "be married in the Lord": the celebration of the marriage sacrament without living faith, but for other motives; the rejection of the moral norms that guide and promote the human and Christian exercise of sexuality in marriage (7). Teilhard de Chardin's work The Divine Milieu shows the deepest reverence for the environment, human-divine-natural, that surrounds and sustains us. When that environment is affected adversely, there is a breakdown in the rich interde-pendence of all life. Family life is no exception to this universal phenomenon. Certain negative attitudes are in the air and certain ways of relating are becoming accepted that are injurious and destructive of communities of persons: divorce that rends and tears the hearts and minds of parents and children; misunderstanding and subsequent misuse of the gift and beauty of sexuality: erroneous attitudes regarding freedom; a striving for a type of independence that makes relationships impossible. The litany is long and off-key: the pain and the hurt are even more far-reaching and dissonant. Realism demands that we share the full portrait. Healthy family life does survive and is the source of much hope and joy. There are homes where children rejoice in the love and care shown by their parents; there are homes in which youth are given a sense of dignity and respect; there are homes that are sites of caring education and gracious growth. God has promised his presence to the family and with that presence comes the grace to fulfill that unique and noble vocation of every home--the sharing of love. Familiaris Consortio offers a blueprint, charting the waterways of family life. The journey of Lewis and Clark was filled with many unnecessary delays and detours because of the lack of maps. Though they do not remove the struggle of the journey, maps do help in marking the way. The papal exhortation continues the apostolic mission: revealing the mystery of God's love and forgiveness which makes possible community, the building of the kingdom in which we hear and respond with love to the voice of the Lord. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions--I Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Sister Patricia, a psychotherapist, lectures on initial and on-going formation. She resides at the convent of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart; 428 St. James Place: Chicago, IL 60614. The second part of her presentation will appear in the next issue of REWF.W FOR REI.IGIOUS. During the past few years, we religious have witnessed a ferment of activity in our congregations centering on drafting, writing and debating new constitutions. The Lord's charge to Habakkuk: Write down the vision clearly upon the tablet so that we can read it readily (Hab 2:2) is being taken seriously. Constitutional committees, feedback designs, provincial chapters have been devoted to this task. Some of us are already breathing a sigh of relief before a completed task, some of us are still laboring to clarify the vision or inscribe the tablets. But there is a hidden illusion here, that once the tablet is inscribed, the work is over! The Lord who told Habakkuk to write on the tablet also told Jeremiah that he, himself, would plant his law deep within, "writing it on their hearts" (Jr 31:33) instead of on fragments of stone or clay. So it is today. Whoever finishes "tablet-work" is at a crossroads of a more intense and crucial nature. The real task, the "heart work," is just beginning and the challenge which lies before us is far greater than the challenge we may have already surmounted. A beautiful document will remain just that and nothing more, unless it also becomes an opportunity for personal conversion, for personal adherence to its sources of inspiration: the gospel, and the charism of the individual congregation. New constitutions are indeed "a word that goes forth from my mouth" (Is 55:! i) and so may be likened to the seed in the parable of the sower (Mt 13:1-23). There the seed-word was met by a whole spectrum of attitudes that rendered it 495 4~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 more or less efficacious: from the indifference and defensiveness of those of "coarse heart., dull ears., shut eyes., fear [of] being converted," to the limited disponib~lity of those who "have no roots [since] trials., persecutions., worries ¯. riches choke the word," even after an initial joyful reception. The unconditional acceptance of those who are "good soil" is not found as often as we would like to believe. Human nature has not changed since the time those attitudes were described. The "word," whether of the gospel or of a congregation, will be as effective as each of us can allow it to be, personally and corporately. Our new constitutions are indeed a "two-edged sword," but we can block its passage to our "secret emotions and thoughts"(Heb 4:12). It is indeed a seed, bursting with the potentiality of life, but the finest seed in the world needs a welcoming environment. With all of our good will, each of us may be specializing in certain obstacles that may prevent these constitutions from taking root and producing the fruits of inner conversion, may render subjectively ineffective the objective grace of the moment. These obstacles, rather than our good will, may be at the root of our attitudinal decisions before the constitutions. Whether we realize it or not, we are not just passive recipients of these new documents. Each of us makes active decisions concerning them, with or without our awareness, and often the decision may be made before we even see the document. Neither is this "decision" an isolated factor in our life; rather it springs from the same soil which has fostered every other decision we have made. What Attitudinal Decisions Do New Constitutions Evoke in Us? What are some of the myriad possibilities of responses to this word, of attitudi-nal decisions before our constitutions, that could arise? We must recognize that anything which is both new and demanding naturally represents a threat to our established way of looking at things, to our life-style, to our values. It calls for change, for letting go of the comfortable and familiar, for embarking on untried and risky roads--even if only in small and subtle ways. It is good for us to recognize and admit how easily the gospel, our charism, our documents can threaten us. Our challenge lies in how we handle the stress which this threat brings. On the one hand we can resist in an active, rebellious way, challenging the need for norms, for institutional guidelines, for adherence to the magisterium of the Church. Or we can resist in a more subtle, passive way--remaining indifferent, unaffected; quietly ignoring what rubs us the wrong way. We can comply, go along with what is outwardly expected of us, as long as the community is aware of it or because the consequences of not "going along" would be too unpleasant. Or, at another level, we can accept the constitutions because "that's what good religious do," or because the present community to which we belong values them, and so should we. While this identification does not stop when we are no longer actually being observed by members of the community, the satisfaction due to our relation-ship with others is more important to us than the value itself. Thus, this attitudinal choice still leaves something to be desired. Our motivation remains external to us. From Tablet to Heart / 497 Finally, Luke describes the last category of listeners to the word as: people with a noble and generous heart who have heard the word and take it to themselves and yield a harvest through their perseverance (Lk 8:15). This is an excellent biblical description of what is meant by internalization: a true taking-to-heart of the value for its own sake, whether it is popular or unpopu-lar, whether we are being observed by others or not observed, whether it is gratifying or painful. Internalization of his Father's will was the only way that Jesus remained faithful unto death to his redemptive mission: rewards and friends had all disappeared; there remained only faith that this was what the Father called him to do. Vulnerability of Our Attitudes So we see that the great accomplishment of approved constitutions can falter and come to nothing, unless we are disposed to respond by attitudinal decisions that lead to the increase of internalization and the decrease of either resistance or compliance. We see that our attitudinal choices are vulnerable, with the result that, unknowingly, we may be moving towards an ephemeral and passing satisfaction instead of towards the true life that Jesus intends for each of us through these documents (see Jn 10:10). But what makes our attitudinal choices so vulnerable? What can we do about it? Perhaps we can begin by attempting to understand the source of these vulner-abilities. After all, it is a very ancient problem. The Israelites d~]ring the exodus could be seen to manifest the same spectrum of attitudes towards the covenant. Moses, in the words of the writer of Deuteronomy, finally put it to them clearly: I set before you life or death, blessing or curse: choose life then. (Dr 31:19). Let us begin to look more deeply into how, from the time of the Israelites to the present day, our choices can be torn between life and death, can lead us to our highest happiness or our greatest betrayal. To that end, let us look first at the source of these decisions--our very selves--and then at various aspects of these decisions. A. The Person as Locus of Attitudinal Decisions Attitudinal choices of life or death do not spring from a vacuum. They origi-nate in and are consistent with" that complex of motivations, forces and behaviors which we call "the self." Concentrating on the self, however, is not meant to be an exercise in individu-alism. Vitz~ warns us how the exaltation of the self and concentration on self-fulfillment result in a parody of our true selves. Kernberg2 has devoted many years ~Paul C. Vitz, Psychology as Religion: the Cult of Self- Worship (.Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1977). 2Otto Kernberg, Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism (NY: Jason-Aronson, 1975). __, "Why Some People Can't Love," Psychology Today (June, 1978), pp. 55-59. 1191t / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 to a study of the increasing manifestations of narcissism in American society that result in a pathology of the self. Hendin describes the culture of the Age of Sensation as: marked by a self-interest and ego-centrism that increasingly reduces all relations to the question: What am 1 getting out of it?~ Obviously such caricatures of the self are inimicable to the gospel which says "anyone who wants to save his life will lose it" (Mt 16:25). Nevertheless, it is precisely self-knowledge which can be the greatest aid to making it possible for us to lay down our lives. All the saints testify to this truth, but 1 will restrict myself throughout this article to two great woman saints: Catherine of Siena, the great laywoman and mystic of the fourteenth century, and Frances Xavier Cabrini, the zealous mission-ary of the twentieth century, who founded my own congregation, the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. If you would come to perfect knowledge and enjoyment of me, eternal life, never leave the knowledge of yourself . oh, how delightful to the soul and pleasing to me is holy prayer made in the house of self-knowledge and knowledge of me! (Catherine of Siena, The Dia-logue, no. 4,66). And when we begin to know ourselves, it is a grace so great that we can never thank Jesus enough since it is an illumination from his divine heart. Let us gratefully run along this way. (Frances Cabrini, Letters, no. 96). We have already insisted on the capacity of the self to function as an active sub-ject-- not just to react as the passive object of environmental stimuli. Our behavior may stem in part from external influences, but these influences are internally organized into already existing psychic structures that we normally call motiva-tions. Hence the motivations are as important as the behavior, the inner structures as important as the process of emotionally experiencing the environment. Neither is the self simply an organization of the present moment. We reach back to the past (which we may have forgotten) and forward to goals we have not yet attained. The actual needs of the past and present must be balanced with the ideals of the future, a fact which psychologists are more and more integrating into their self-theory. Wylie4 considers the sub-components of the self as the actual-self and the ideal-self. Kohut, who has devoted himself to the analysis of the self,~ speaks of its developing optimally from the interaction of ambition (needs) and ideals. Rulla6 further subdivides our actual-self with its needs and ambitions into a social, behavioral and latent self, and our ideal-self into a personal self-ideal as well SHerbert Hendin, The Age of Sensation (NY: McGraw-Hill & Co. 1977), p. 13. *R. C. Wylie, "The Present Status of Self Theory" in Handbook of Personality Theory and Research, Borgatta & Lambert, ed. (Chicago: Rand McNally, 1968), pp. 734-752. ~Heinz Kohut, The Analysis of the Se/f(NY: International Universities Press, 1977). 6Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., Depth Psychology and I/ocation (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1971), pp. 35-37. The theoretical framework of this article is derived from the writings and teachings of Rulla. From Tablet to Heart / 499 as the ideals we believe others expect of us (institutional-ideal). Rulla further distinguishes between the subjective ideals we personally hold as important to us and the extent to which these are consonant with objective ideals---especially the revealed values of the gospei and the following of Christ. Needs and Values Within Our Conscious and Unconscious Selves However, we must admit that the self often remains a mystery to us. Paul laments "I do not understand my own behavior" (Rm 7:!5). Conscious factors interact with unconscious forces within us, unknowingly influencing our decisions and our attitudes despite our good will. Because they are unknown to us (and our defenses may be strong enough to resist coming to know them), this unconscious part of the self can greatly contribute to the vulnerability of our attitudinal deci-sions. Whether we are talking about the "Known/Unknown-to-self" of the Johari Window,7 Freud's unconscious, or Rulla's latent self, we cannot ignore the fact that we unconsciously put obstacles in the way of taking the word to heart. Grace builds on nature--but we may abuse our God-given freedom by hiding from unpleasant truths which may be interfering with the action of grace. It is this unconscious aspect of the self that touches so deeply two primary attributes of the self: our human needs which are innate, universal and strive naturally for psycho-biological or psycho-social satisfaction; and our values and ideals which are developed in the course of a lifetime. We all have needs, e.g., aggressive, dependent, sexual, and so forth, but backgrounds and previous situa-tions may have made these needs so unacceptable to us that we divorce them from ourselves by a defensive barrier that relegates them to our unconscious self. Because they are buried, however, does not mean they are inactive; in fact they may be all the more influential because of our lack of awareness. At the other end of the spectrum of self-attributes are our values which natu-rally begin by being subjective and personal, but which should mature so that the objectivb values of Christ come to coincide with our personal ideals and choices (which is what internalization is all about). However there is a "tension arc" stretched between these two poles which can often result in the weaker values succumbing to stronger unconscious needs. In this case, the values never are internalized because of contradictions in the self between the actual and the ideal. Rulla has introduced the term "inconsistencies" to describe these poorly-integrated tensions between needs and values. While certain human needs may be consistent with the following of Christ, e.g., the need to achieve, to care for others (nurtur-ance), to overcome difficulties (counteraction), certain others such as inferiority (abasement), avoidance of pain (harm-avoidance), or defensiveness interfere with the following of Christ and hence may represent significant inconsistencies in individuals where they predominate. Ideally, we should be able to acknowledge and accept the presence of these inconsistencies which we all have, integrate them 7joseph Lufl. Group Processed (Palo Alto: National Press, 1961). 500 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 in a manner appropriate to a vowed life, and thus be freer to be attracted by and assimilate the values of Christ. However, when the block of unconscious needs cannot be acknowledged, a vicious circle begins of denying what we most need to deal with, of distorting our image of ourselves to match our ideal-self instead of dealing with what is actually present. Self As Holistic, Structural, Purposive Thus far we have seen that our attitudinal choices originate in a self that is both reactive and becoming, both conscious and unconscious, both real and ideal in our efforts to integrate values and needs in a consistent way. Another theorist, Jane Loevinger,8 describes the necessary characteristics that must be incorporated into a healthy self, or into any adequate self-theory. Thus, among other elements, she maintains that the self must be understood as holistic, structural and purposive. When we interpret this in the light of religious life, several implications concerning the self emerge: The holistic self." Self as the locus of growth in Christ and for purposes of internali-zation must be seen as the integration of all its aspects: conscious and unconscious; active and passive; the psycho-biological, psycho-social, and psycho-spiritual: the cognitive, affective and volitional; the real and the ideal. The part that each element has to play in the final ordering of a mature consistent self is not just a result of haphazard whim or fancy. Rather, true integration moves from more primitive, ego-centered positions to more advanced levels that do not exclude the earlier but incorporate them into newer, more mature patterns. The structural self." A great many theorists today stress the self as being in process; problems are envisioned in terms of blocked emotional and experiential pro-cesses. 9 They emphasize those components of ourselves that are or should be in movement, in flux, in change. While this approach contains an undeniable truth, a holistic approach includes other aspects as well. We are not only emotion, flux, becoming. Our inner selves are also organized into stable structured patterns of needs, motivations and ideals; of behavioral tendencies and patterns of relation-ships that are remarkably stable, resistant to change and indeed form the source of our emotional reactions, our manner of experiencing the world and our behavioral tendencies. Thus while our structures or psychic patterns seem to epitomize Our stable and non-changing elements, in reality we can experience no real change unless these very structures are touched and altered. A structural view of the self is sound not only from a psychological point of view but also from a theological. The late Gustave Weigel in his considerations on Theology and Freedom looks first at the self which is capable of reaching freedom. He contrasts an experiencing self in flux as: 8Jane Loevinger, ~Theories of Ego Development" in ClinieabCognitive Psychology: Models and Inte-gration, L. Breger, ed. (Englewood Cliffs, N J: Prentice-Hall, 1969), pp. 87-99. 9E.g., most of the humanistic schools--Rogers, Maslow, et al. From Tablet to Heart / 51~1 isolated, unrelated consciousness, floating without orientation or direction on the mysterious sea of existence, itself selfless with the self as presumed by Catholic theology which begins with the supposition that the self is structured and its affirmations must be related to that structure.~0 ¯ Thus a view of the self without structure and only in process cannot help us either spiritually or humanly. If a religious has unknowingly reacted all his or her life so as to comply with the sacrifices invited, by chastity, poverty and obedience and has never really internalized them, he or she has unwittingly formed a pattern and a structure of compliance that will not change only by focusing on his or her emotions and experiences. The roots of our patterns must be dealt with before lasting, significant change can occur. The purposive self." Loevinger sees the self as inherently striving for meaning, purpose, goals--echoing the ideal-self of Wylie, Rulla, Kohut, et al. Frankl speaks of the "will to meaning" as opposed to "the will to pleasure." Indeed happiness, fulfillment, identity are all side effects of the successful search for meaning: It may now have become clear that a concept such as self-actualiTation, or self-realization, is not a sufficient ground for a motivational theory. This is mainly due to the fact that self-actualization, like power and pleasure, also belongs to the class of phenomena which can only be obtained as a side effect and are thwarted precisely to the degree to which they are made a matter of direct intention. Self-actualization is a good thing: however. I maintain that man can only actualize himself to the extent to which he fulfills meaning. Then self-actualization occurs spontaneously: it is contravened when it is made an end in itself.~ Indeed the capacity to commit ourselves marks our highest capacity, our ability to transcend ourselves, to go beyond gratification and pleasure to value and meaning. To the extent that the values and meanings for which we transcend ourselves are objective and true (consistent with our self-as-it-ought-to-be), happi-ness and self-fulfillment will gradually emerge as side effects. Thus, new constitutions ought to prick and challenge us--make us uncom-fortable- not be already within our grasp. Our tendency can be, however, to "cut down to size," reduce the demand quality of something which may annoy and anger us because it disturbs our comfort. We have to be willing to forego, unlike the rich young man (Mk 10:17-22), the gratification of"but I've already been doing all that," to push forward, stretch, go beyond where we are, to transcend our own comfort in the service of values which have originated beyond us. The Subjectivization of Values Both Frankl and Rulla have been very concerned with the relativization and individualization of values which we see so often in modern society. Values which ~0Gustave Weigel, S.J., "Theology and Freedom" in Foundations./'or "a Psychology of Grace (Glen Rock. N J: Paulist Press, 1966), p. 188. ~Victor Frankl, Psychotherapy and Existentialism (NY: Clarion Bks, 1967), p. 8. 502 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 should be objective and clear become subjectively evaluated (for discarding or adaptation); we tend to elevate ourselves and our needs as ends in themselves, thereby actually making ourselves into an object. We become the measure of the value instead of the value calling us forth. Here our ideal-self has become absorbed into our actual-self and has become its puppet, instead of being a liberating, independent force which urges our actual-self further along the road to maturity and freedom. An adaptation of one of Frankl's diagrams can help us envision this tendency more clearly:12 Strong human needs (1) especially unconscious ones that are dissonant with the following of Christ can cause the values (2) to be unconsciously "adjusted" (subjectified) so that the person (3) becomes the norm (objectified). This may lead to temporary self-fulfillment and gratification, but not to lasting happiness because it has diluted the values that encouraged us towards self-transcendence. Frankl calls for changing this situation through re-objectifying the values and re-subjectifying the person by means of a value-oriented theory and practice (4). To the extent that we can realize this, to that same extent can we find a true self-fulfillment in Christ that comes as a result of having transcended ourselves. Unless a grain of wheat fails on the ground and dies, it remains a single grain: but if it dies. it yields a rich harvest (Jri 12:24). Thus far we have considered the self with its intricate weaving of values and needs, structure and function, elements known-to-self and unknown-to-self as the source of our attitudes ranging from acceptance to refusal of God's design. Now let us turn to examine more closely the process and result of our decision-making, so '~Ibid., p. 66. From Tablet to Heart / 503 as to better understand the interactions of nature and grace within us. To do this, we shall look at attitudinal decisions from three aspects: spiritual philosophical and psychological. B. The Spiritual Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decision We can consider the spiritual dimension of decisions and attitudes since, in a holistic and purposive view of the self, over and above the fact that our capacities are God-given in themselves, we can and ought to reach out for transcendent goods. Thus our decisions may be considered spiritual on the basis of their object, i.e., what is being chosen, and on their mode, i.e., how the "what" is being chosen, under the influence of what--grace or inconsistent human needs. God calls, and awaits our human decision. He offers us his grace that makes possible but not obligatory our decision to respond to a transcendent good. Thus our decision may be the meeting ground between nature and grace--an encounter between two liberties. But, as we have already seen, this liberty to ,respond may be conditioned by various factors, notwithstanding our good will and sincere desire to serve God. This is our subjective holiness, the extent to which we actually do respond to grace in spite of our human limits and weaknesses. However, we also have to consider objective holiness--the extent to which we could respond to God if our liberty was less impaired, i.e., if there were less unknown inconsistencies with which we had to struggle.~3 We are responsible within the bounds of subjective holiness because there we know the weaknesses against wfiich we must consciously struggle. Obviously, we are not responsible for what we do not know--our hidden faults and failings--but we are responsible to do what is in our power to become aware of them. This is what the saints tried to do constantly--to become aware of what was formerly hidden from them through reflection, prayer, examen, and so forth. And because they were not defensive, they usually succeeded. Cabrini writes: We shouldn't be surprised at our defects, for such marveling comes from pride, but let us humble ourselves and reflect that they are like windows where the light enters so we can know ourselves better. Only humility is called the beginning of all perfection; why shouldn't our defects help to know ourselves better and become more humble? (Pensieri e PropositL p. 166-167.) Discernment When we consider the object and mode of our choices, we are reminded of St. Ignatius' rules for the discernment of spirits: whether the soul is choosing a real or an apparent good; whether this soul is being drawn by grace or by "evil spirits." How can we discern between these two goods, since nothing is chosen except under the aspect of good? Or, as Lonergan would have it, how can we discern whether we are being drawn by the goods of the "ego-centered self" or the "ego-transcending self"?. It is beyond the scope of this work to comment in detail on the ~-~Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., Joyce Ridick, S.S.C., Franco Imoda, S.J., Entering and Leaving Vocation (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1976), pp. 212-214. 504 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 parallels between Ignatian discernment and modern vocational depth-psychology: the reader is referred to the numerous articles that have appeared recently in this vein)4 Suffice it to say that the real goods of the kingdom are consistent with the revealed objective truths of the gospel and of Church teaching: that they are concerned with discovering and living God's will regardless of the cost, and not our plan for ourselves; and that such goods leave intact or intensify our intimacy with Christ, our acceptance of and living out of his word, even when that entails great sacrifice and hardship. In some cases it is fairly easy to discern the real from the apparent good: at other times we know what God wants even though we feel humanly repulsed by it. Many times, however, the case is not so clear; we can be convinced that God wants something when in reality it is our own inconsistent tendencies that want it. Sometimes we later see and understand our error: sometimes we never discover that truth. St. Ignatius tells us to look for "consolation without cause" following the choice of the real good--and desolation when this is not so. Unfortunately, our emotional weighing of a good to be chosen can be confused by unconscious inconsistencies rendering our emotions unreliable guides. Consolation and desolation do not necessarily identify with pleasure and pain., only when affeetivity is ordered can it in turn become the clue to the direction in which one should go within the myriad good options that surround one's life (Italics mine).~5 Grace or Gratification? We have considered "decision for what?" The issue of "how, under what influence?" is equally important. How do we discern if grace or gratification is what moves us? Certainly, grace moves us in the direction of the real good: our conversion to the will of God and the imitation of Christ. Grace enables us to go beyond our natural desires for natural goods and to take root in a transcendent love of Jesus Christ. Not only does grace make conversion possible (Lonergan's operative grace) but enables us to cooperate with it so as to effect the gradual movement towards a full and complete transformation of the whole of one's living and feeling¯ one's thoughts, words, deeds and omissions.~ But how can we tell if it is really grace at work, or our own needs? There are no litmus tests for the Spirit, no computer analysis which can pin him down. But holy men and women from the dawn of the Christian era have used their spiritual ~'~Luigi M. Rulla, S.J., "The Discernment of Spirits and Christian Anthropology," Gregorianum (Vol. 59, 3: 78), pp. 537-569. Laurence Murphy¯ S.J., "Psychological Problems ~f Christian Choice." The Way, 1~75, pp. 25-28. ¯'Psychological Development," Supplement to 7he Way, n.38 (Summer. 1980), pp. 30-40. Louis Gendron¯ S.J., "The Exercises and Vocational Therapy," Supplement to The Way, n.38 (Summer, 1980), pp. 53-67. ~Michael Buckley¯ S.J., "Rules for the Discernment of Spirits," Supplement to The Way, no.20 (1973), pp. 29-35. ~rBernard J. Lonergan¯ S.J.¯ Method in Theology. 2nd ed. (NY: Herder and Herder. 1973), p. 241. From Tablet to Heart / 505 intuition, the fruits of disponibility to grace, to discern. Rahner, using the most simple and commonplace of means, discerns that only grace can be at work in the following instances: Have we ever kept quiet, even though we wanted to defend ourselves when we had been unfairly treated? Have we ever forgiven someone even though we got no thanks for it and our silent forgiveness was taken for granted? Have we ever obeyed, not because we had to and because otherwise things would have become unpleasant for us, but simply on account of that mysterious, silent incomprehensible being we call God and will?. Have we ever tried to love God when we are no longer being borne on the crest of the wave of enthusiastic feeling, when it is no longer possible to mistake our self. and its vital urges, for God?. Have we ever been good to someone who did not show the slightest sign of gratitude or comprehension and when we also were not rewarded by the feeling of having been "selfless," decent, etc.?~7 It is interesting from a psychological point of view how clearly Rahner sees that an inordinate need for self-esteem can be an obstacle to our growth in grace and holiness: when it is more important for our self-esteem to be boosted up by others' good opinion of us, our own positive evaluation of ourselves, uplifting emotional experiences, and so forth; when it is more important for us to feel good about serving God than simply to serve God for his own sake. Self-esteem is essential; abasement (a helpless sense of inferiority) is a deterrent to growth in holiness. But our self-esteem should be secure enough to withstand at times the lack of external supports and proofs of how good we are. Rahner, in commenting on the latter occasions, goes on to say: If we find such experiences, then we have experienced the spirit., when we let ourselves go in this experience of the spirit, when the tangible and assignable, the relishable element disap-pears, when everything takes on the taste of death and destruction, or when everything disappears as if in an inexpressible white, colorless and intangible beatitude--then in actual fact it is not merely the spirit but the Holy Spirit who is at work in us. Then is the hour of grace . The chalice of the Holy Spirit is identical in this life with the chalice of Christ. This chalice is drunk only by tho~ who have slowly learned in little ways to taste the fullness in emptiness, the ascent in the fall, life in death, the finding in renunciation. Anyone who learns this, experiences the spirit--the pure spirit--and in this experience he is also given the experience of the Holy Spirit of grace.~ Thus we see that evaluating our attitudinal decisions in the light of the spirit has to focus on the object of our choice (real, ego-transcending goods; apparent, ego-centered goods or the whole spectrum inbetween) and on the mode of our choosing (under the influence of grace or of gratification). Our constitutions are a real good, calling for that transcendence which leads to greater assimilation of Christ and consistent living of the gospel. "It is now no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:20). Such a transformation can only be possible with the aid of grace, but grace is "God;s action on the psychic structure of man,''~9 and those same psychic structures can also render grace ineffective. ~TKarl Rahner. S.J., "Reflections on the Experience of Grace" in Theological Investigations. Vol. Ill (NY: Seabury Press, 1974), p. 87. ~Slbid. p. 88. ~gRulla, 1971, pp. 167-8. 501~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 C. The Philosophical Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decisions The intellect, memory and will have traditionally been the principal faculties of man which have concerned the great philosophical theorists of the past. Modern thinkers have elaborated on the traditional criteria and begun to determine other intervening variables which must also be considered. Their contributions can be enlightening in our search for greater understanding of our attitudinal decisions. Lonergan20 analyzes the conscious operations of man to see how conscious decisions are reached, as summarized in this chart: Level of Faculty Operation Product Consciousness Senses Registration of empirical sense data Perception Empirical cs. Intellect Understanding (inquiry) Hypothesis Intelligent cs. Judgment (critical reflection) Validated insight Rational cs. Will Will: willing; willingness Decision Responsible cs. Decisions are built upon all the preceding conscious operations. Our intellect not only takes what has been perceived (level of experience) to inquire ("What is it?") and reach a hypothesis ("! think it's X!'), but also judges ("Was that fight?") to validate the original insight ("No, it was a Y!'). Only then do we, according to Lonergan, reach the level of responsibility where we can make a decision (therefore, I'll . . .). In reality, for example, a feeling of unrest (sense data) gets tentatively tagged ("Maybe I'm angry"), then validated ("As a matter of fact, I'm furious!'), before reaching a decision ("1'11 try to get hold of this, see what's causing it and not just attack the first person in sight!'). "An admirable decision!" we might say, but it is not one that occurs automatically. Lonergan's four steps are clear, but they do not explain why the resulting decisions could be so different from person to person. We can fail to come to a correct hypothesis of the same sense data ("They're all against me!"), fail to validate it properly ("As a matter of fact, they're figuring out how to get rid of me!"), and so come tb a completely different decision ("1"11 get even--I'll outsmart them all!'). In this example, it is obvious that emotion acted as intervening factor to distort the appropriateness of our final decision even if the four operations remained the same. To help us resolve this dilemma, Lonergan distinguishes at the level of respon-sibility between will, i.e., the bare capacity to make a decision, exercised or not; willing, i.e., the act of deciding; and willingness, i.e., a readiness to decide that does not need persuasion to bring it about.2~ Obviously, there are some objective goods -'°Lonergan, Method. pp. 6-16. __, Insight: A Study of Human Understandingo(I,ondon: I_ongmans Green, 1958), pp. 271- 278; 608-616. Ibid., pp. 622-23. From Tablet to Heart / 507 that we might be more reluctant to choose than others. This reluctance of ours is our lack of '~antecedent willingness." The whole issue of freedom is concerned here--not just essential freedom which is innately given to our nature, but even more important for our discussion, our effective freedom, i.e., "the broad or narrow., operation range" which this essential freedom can exercise.22 But, according to Lonergan, one of the requirements for effective freedom is precisely that antecedent willingness of which we have been speaking. Furthermore, Loner-gan sees grace as directly affecting this antecedent willingness,23 the grace of sincere effort even without guarantees of successful outcome. Finally, antecedent willing-ness is directly affected in conversion: To religious conversion. I would ascribe as a minimum two notes: First. it is a change in one's antecedent willingness: one becomes antecedently willing to do the good that previously one was unwilling to do . 24 And yet how do we become antecedently willing to do the good? What is there that prevents our passage into that state of mind and heart? What more must be considered? Rulla makes some useful comments when he considers the interrelationship of personal dispositions, affective and effective, on Lonergan's four conscious opera-tions. As in the previous!y quoted example, emotions originating from needs may influence our perception of X, our first hypothesis concerning X, and our judg-ment concerning our first impression. Emotions and human needs can befuddle us enough when they are conscious; the situation is even more serious when our needs and the subsequent emotions are unconscious and, therefore, even more influential on how we judge a situation. Hence, affective dispositions, whether conscious or unconscious, influence effective dispositions (and especially antecedent willingness) that lead to decision-making. With antecedent willingness thus limited, our effec-tive freedom is also limited, with the result that our emotions resulting from our needs (especially when unconscious) can form the single most effective barrier to God's gift of conversion. Our resistance to cooperative grace can render the gift ineffective. D. The Psychological Dimension of Our Attitudinal Decisions We have looked at the process of decision-making from the point of view of grace on the one hand, and our will on the other. What remains is to see in what way psychology can complement and round out what we have already seen. Magda Arnoldz5 has devoted her life to a phenomenological analysis of emo- "-'-Ibid., p. 619. 23Bernard J. Lonergan. S.J. Foundations of Theology: McShane. ed. (Dublin: Gill and Macmillan¯ 1971), p. 226. ~'~Lonergan, Method, p. 241. ~Magda Arnold¯ Feelings and F~notions (NY: Academic Press, 1970). ¯ Emotion and Personality. II Vol. (NY: Columbia, 1960). 501~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 tion, especially in its influence on choice, will, and action. Her work is both scientifically sound, value-oriented, and appreciative of our transcendent dimen-sion. Arnold maintains that all choice--even of the most transcendent goods-- usually involves an emotional component which normally is derived from a basic human need on the psycho-biological and/or psycho-social level. Actually, truly human decision-making is a secondary possibility that follows from a more primi-tive instinctual movement. In this earlier phase, something is perceived, and immediately appraised, in a spontaneous, involuntary manner, as "good or bad for me here and now," i.e., as appealing to a basic instinct or need. Usually a spon-taneous emotion of attraction or withdrawal is the result. Emotional Wanting Three additional factors enter into this intuitive appraisal or emotional warn-ing. The first is the physiological reaction which accompanies normal emotion, e.g., changes in cardiac and/or respiratory functions, changes in hormone and enzyme secretions, tensing/relaxing of voluntary and involuntary muscles (from which the whole gamut of psycho-physiological disease can emerge). Often, if we are insensitive to our emotional states, our bodily changes may be the first indica-tions we will have--although we may remain in the dark as to the source of our physical discomfort. The second element in intuitive appraisal has already been indirectly noted, i.e., that we may be unaware of the emotional reaction which is taking place. Two components may become involved here, either the object of the emotion (e.g., at whom I am angry) or the experience of the emotion itself (e.g., the fact that I am angry). In either case, my defenses have arisen so that part of what I am subjec-tively experiencing becomes lost to my awareness even though it continues to influence me. The further pity is that I can no longer do anything about it and will remain enslaved to an unknown factor. In this case, I can no longer exercise my capacity for conscious choice (e.g., what ! am going to do about my anger). The reason behind my lack of awareness (partial or total) of my emotional state may involve the third factor, "affective memory." Memory involves not only the who, what, when. and how of the past (modality-specific memory), but also the specific feelings which that event or person aroused in me, e.g., fear, attraction, hatred, inferiority (affective memory). It is quite possible for the modality-specific dimension to drop from awareness behind the defensive barricade while the affec-tive dimension is being aroused time and time again--explaining why, for exam-ple, I continually have the same angry reaction towards authority figures, since my affective memory is being stirred up in each case. Hence, this emotion-laden deposit may be a hidden factor which predetermines me towards/away from a particular decision/course of action. The connection between Arnold's affective memory and Lonergan's antecedent willingness should be apparent. Furthermore, when mention was made in the previous section of the affective dispositions which influence Lonergan's conscious operations, it was precisely this issue of emotional wanting and affective memory that was meant. From Tablet to Heart / 509 Rational Wanting Are we, then, to remain a slave to our emotional vagaries and to the needs from which they spring? No, for Arnold has determined that a second phase of the decisional process may follow the first. 1 say "may" because I can stop at the level of emotional wanting ("l want it/l don't want it") and mislake that for a real decision. Certainly, animals and small children have no further possibilities, but as we chronologically mature, our capacity for reflective appraisal or rational want-ing should mature also. Here, what is appraised and judged is the emotional reaction and its accompanying tendency: "OK, I feel that way! now what am 1 going to do about it?" Here, the possibility for a real decision, not just an emo-tional reaction, occurs. The emotion and its source is consciously and calmly accepted, but we remain in control to decide whether or not to follow the emo-tional tendency. Here we move beyond our spontaneous reactions to the possibil-ity of free choice: if human needs from our actual-self were the source of the initial emotional movement, we can contrast and weigh them against the values, ideals, and commitments of our ideal-self Here, Lonergan's true level of responsibility has been reached, because we can truly take hold of the movement of our lives and give it responsible shape. Either form of decisions can prevail in a given life, either the pseudo-decisions of emotional wanting, or the true decisions of reflective judgment and rational wanting. In the first case we have the child, the immature adult--the man of James' epistle who looks at himself "and then, after a quick look, goes off and immediately forgets." In the second case, we have the man who looks steadily at the perfect law of freedom and makes that his habit--not listening and then forgetting, but actively putting it into practice (Jm 1:25). This is a portrait of a consistent individual who knows and integrates both needs and values in an increasingly mature and transcendent life-style. Not only must we respond appropriately to our human affectivity, but we must also be open to feel increasingly attracted to transcendent goods as well--intimacy with Jesus and the desire to imitate him, which is the hallmark of the emotional integration and affective maturity of the saints. The understanding., is moved by affection [which] is love's hand. and this hand fills the memory with thoughts of me and of the blessings 1 have given . IT]he soul cannot live without love. She always wants to love something, because love is the stuff she is made of ICatherine of Siena, The Dialogue. 51). What Function Does This Value Have in My Life? Obviously we form habits of reaction or decision-making in both emotional wanting and rational wanting. Pervasive attitudes are being established which form a matrix of"readiness to respond" in the direction of our needs/emotions or of our values and their attractiveness. Hence the phrase "attitudinal decisions," since each decision that we make is based" on the foundation of our previous attitudes, emotional wantings and rational wantings, known and unknown. 5"10 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 Let us focus more closely on this all-important attitudinal factor. We have myriads of attitudes--beliefs about this or that person, the community, the super-ior, the ministry in which I am engaged, the responsibility which 1 might be asked to assume. The basic components which underlie this multitude are more limited since our attitude towards any particular object is shaped largely by our needs or by our values; hence we may speak of emotional attitudes or rational attitudes (with the obvious admixtures). Like emotions, we may be aware or unaware of a particular attitude--or at least of the source behind it. Katz26 has determined that not only is the content of an attitude important (e.g., "working for social justice is the only worthwhile apostolate for me"), but important also is why that attitude is held, i.e., the function, known or unknown, which it plays in my life. Hence Katz demonstrates that attitudes (and values as well) may fulfill, among others, the following functions: an ego-d~fensive.function: I need to work with the poor and down-trodden to lift up my own sense of inferiority and feel good about myself. a utilitarian.function: Social justice is the stated concern of our hierarchy, and identifying with that will help me get a particular appointment I desire. Obviously, few of us can be that direct and honest about our motivations (although, with help, we could come to conclusions concerning our real intentions, and then be in a position to do something about it). Sadly enough, research27 shows that the more needy and conflictual we are a) the more we will act according to one of these aforementioned functions, and b) the more we will unconsciously protect ourselves from that knowledge, leading to a vicious circle which is not easily broken. Finally, we may espouse an attitude because of its value-expressive function: in spite of the discomforts and difficulties involved, ! think Jesus Christ is calling me to work directly with the poor without self-seeking or self-righteousness. Obviously even when struggling to maintain "a pure intention," motives get mixed, The difficulty lies in the situation where we are unaware of the mixture and, therefore, unable to choose otherwise; where we are so convinced that only the value-expressive function moves us that we never honestly look at other possibilities. A Deeper Look Into Compliance, Identification, Internalization To tie up this discussion of attitudes with our earlier considerations of the self from which these attitudes proceed, we must remember that in a structured self these tendencies towards the predominance of emotional over rational wanting (or vice versa) or towards the prevalence of ego-defensive or utilitarian functions of attitudes/values all form stable structures, enduring inner patterns which lead to -'nDaniel Katz. "The Functional Approach to the Study of Attitudes" in Readings in Attitude Theory and Measurement. Fishbein. ed. (NY: Wiley, 1967), pp. 457-468. aTRulla, Ridick and Imoda. 1976, pp. 77-80. From Tablet to Heart / 511 persistent behaviors that may or may not enhance the vowed following of Christ. Another psychic structure to which we have previously referred was the tendency to adapt new attitudes]values through compliance, identification or internaliza-tion. 2s It would seem advantageous to examine these tendencies more deeply. Kelman theoretically distinguishes them as follows: compliance is the predom-inant mode when we adopt a new attitude]value leading consciously or uncon-sciously to a particular behavior in order to gain a reward or avoid punishment, i.e., a satisfying or disappointing social effect on a significant other or others. We do not behave in that way or proclaim that value unless others are there to witness it. We do not believe in the content of the value or behavior for its own sake. In identification, we do believe in the value/behavior, but only because it is relevant in the context of a satisfying relationship to a person or a group. I identify with my friend Fr. X who believes in]does Y: or, 1 am happy to be a member of Group A which believes in and practices B. "Being a friend of," or "belonging to" is my chief source of satisfaction and self-esteem, not the belief or practice in itself. When X is no longer my friend, or no longer cares about Y: when my role as member of A is no longer attractive, or when A tells me that B ispassb, then 1 have no reason to continue believing in and living that value, and it will quietly be extinguished from my life. Finally, in internalization, we accept and live the value for its own sake, apart from punishment or reward, apart from roles or relationship. We believe in it and manifest it, whether it is popular or unpopular, "welcome or unwelcome" (2 Tm 4:1). I will serve God with all the faithfulness of which I am capable--not for the reward promised nor for the sake of the threats against those who are unfaithful--but for the pure love of him (Frances Cabrini, Pensieri e Propositi, p. 170). How clearly Cabrini rejected any lesser motivation than internalization, acting only for the pure love of God! We are called to do the same. In Katz's terms, the attitude/value is lived in a value-expressive way, and not in a utilitarian or ego-defensive fashion, as would be the case for compliance and identification. Rulta has made some important distinctions and additions to Kelman's theo-retical foundation. First of all, identification is really an ambivalent force, since it may lead us in time to an appreciation of the value in itself, apart from the relationship or role. Most of us began religious life identifying with the group or a particular person: only in time can it be seen if our initial identification leads forward to internalization of values, or remains bound up in non-internalizing identification. Secondly, external social influences are not the only factors at work in these three processes. There are also internal personal factors, especially those hidden in our latent selves, which dispose us to react to the environment in certain structured ways. Thirdly, true internalization for Rulla is not just a matter of any -'SHerbert Kelman. "Processes of Opinion Change," Public Opinion Quarterly (.Vol. 25, 1961). pp. 57-78. 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 value, no matter how fervently espoused, but of values which are objective and true. To achieve this, therefore, there must be a double consistency, my actual-self with my ideal-self, and my personal values with the objective values of Christ and the Church. In other words, 1 must have come sufficiently to know and accept my real self, so that I can then be attracted to, and be converted in reality to the values of Christ. Thus does affective maturity in Christ become possible: "knowing and accepting one's objective and free self-ideal and living it."~9 So far, we have proposed a number of problems and pitfalls that can occur when subjective attitudinal decisions meet the objective truth of our new constitu-tions. What can be done about this? In what direction must our attitudes change to effect the true internalization that we all seek? As it can be suspected, whatever tentative answers do exist are neither altogether new, nor will they provide an easy panacea. However. in the second part of this article 1 will try to provide a frame-work that may be useful in clarifying such a task. -"~Rulla, 1971, p. 182. The" Activ e-Co nte m pl a tiv e' Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Poverty and Incarnation John J. O'Donnell, S.J. Father O'Donnell is a Lecturer in Christian Doctrine at Heythrop College: 11-13 Cavendish Square: London WIM 0AN. A Jesuit friend once confessed that he could honestly say that he wanted to be chaste and obedient, but he could not honestly desire to be poor. This attitude probably reflects the attitude of many Christians. After the Second Vatican Coun-cil with its affirmation of secular values and its admission that building this world contributes to the growth of God's kingdom, many Christians desired to turn away from an other-worldly spirituality, symbolized dramatically by external practices of asceticism and poverty. Interestingly enough, however, even the few intervening years since Vatican II have revealed that the gospel does not allow such an easy settlement with the issue of poverty. From the opening descriptions of Jesus' humble origins in a tiny, utterly insignificant corner of the Roman empire, to his final moments on the cross, abandoned by his people, his disciples and even the God whom he called Abba, Jesus is indeed poor. No doubt some elements of the gospel story, such as the stable at Bethlehem, have been sentimentalized. But even a non-believer such as Ernst Bloch acknowledges that we cannot demythologize the poverty of the historical Jesus. He writes, "The stable, the carpenter's son, the fanatic among the humble people, the.gallows at the end, all this is the stuff of history, not the gold of fable." Furthermore, if the life of Jesus manifests such a restlessness for the kingdom that he is the man who has nowhere to lay his head, his preaching as well points to the poor man as the one who is in the right situation to grasp the message of God's kingdom. At the heart of the New Testament is the beatitude whose original form according to Scripture scholars is closer to the Lucan version: "Blessed are you poor." It is the literal poor who are in a position to grasp what Jesus is about. The 513 5"1~1 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 woes of Jesus upon the rich are full of pathos. Tragically the wealthy are in the wrong life-situation to grasp the good news of Jesus. The only hope for such people is to sell all that they have and give it to the poor. As St. Luke puts it, "Sell your possessions and give alms; provide yourselves with purses that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Lk 12:33-34). In pointing to the heart, St. Luke touches upon the ultimate danger of riches. The man who piles up material things becomes a slave to the mentality of having so that he is no longer free to be himself. He so identifies himself with what he has that he is no longer free to be open to receive God's gift. God can only give his kingdom to the man who is poor enough to want to receive. Therefore, St. Luke's attitude to material things is to get rid of them as encumbrances to that openness necessary for accepting the good news. The gospel attitude to poverty operates on two levels. There is no escaping the fact that Jesus recommends real poverty but real poverty is for the sake of spiritual poverty. The latter is the ultimate goal but we deceive ourselves if we think we can achieve the one without the other. Bonhoeffer, in meditating upon the story of the rich young man in the gospels, suggests the kind of rationalization which we are all prone to make: "Jesus may have said: 'Sell thy goods', but he meant 'Do not let it be a matter of consequence to you that you have outward prosperity: rather keep your goods quietly, having them as if you had them not. Let not your heart be in your goods.'" Bonhoeffer rightly comments that such rationalizations prevent us from submitting to that single-mip, ded obedience to the word of the Lord which he demands. If Jesus demands both real and spiritual poverty from his followers, he has himself first embodied both these dimensions of poverty in his own life. The actual poverty of the man who began life in the stable and ended it on the gallows points to the spiritual poverty of the man for others, the one who loses his life to find it, who loves his own to the end. The actual poverty of Jesus thus points to the deeper poverty of his entire being. As Son of the Father he has nothing of his own. It is literally his nature to receive his entire being from his heavenly Father. And all that he receives he passes on in turn to his disciples. "All that 1 have heard from my Father I have made known to you" (Jn 15:15). The deepest poverty of Jesus then is the poverty which he has at the heart of the Trinity, a poverty which reveals itself in the incarnation. Grasping and possess-ing are so alien to his being that even his equality with God is not something to be clung to. Rather, as Paul says, Jesus emptied himself taking the form of a servant. He divests himself even of the form of his divinity. Paul sees that there is a logic which binds incarnation and poverty together. For what the incarnation means is precisely this: "He who was rich, for our sake became poor" (2 Co 8:9). And as the apostle further perceived, the sharing of our humanity contains already within it the risk of our rejection and the shadow of the cross. What then does this poverty of Christ mean for us, men and women of the Poverty and Incarnation / 515 twentieth century, who desire to be his disciples? Fundamentally it would seem that we are required, as Paul says, to put on the mind of Christ. The heart of his mentality is, as the incarnation attests, the self-emptying love of the servant of others. Matthew no doubt grasped this .point accurately when he modified the first beatitude to read: "Blessed are the poor in spirit." But poverty of spirit without actual poverty would be a rationalization and compromise of the gospel. For there is no way around the stumbling block that the God of Jesus is a God who is a partisan of the poor, the defender of the widow and the orphan, the champion of the oppressed, the seeker of the lost. God has identified himself with the outcast and those on the margins of respectability. The irrevocable event of this identification is the cross of the Jesus who died con-demned as a blasphemer and a rebel. In this event it becomes transparently clear that power-seeking is utterly alien to the being of God. This is the stumbling block which shatters the illusion that we can create an identity by grasping and self-assertion. The gospel proclaims that the weakness of God is stronger than men. If a man is truly grasped by this gospel, he cannot do otherwise than divest himself of possessions, not because he despises material things but because he is as restless as Jesus for the kingdom. And knowing who God is he wants to identify himself where God has identified himself, with the poor and the oppressed. It is not just a question of helping others. It is a question of identification. The man who believes the gospel of Jesus about the kingdom, who believes the gospel about the cross literally finds God hidden under His contrary in the ongoing suffering of the world. And here is perhaps the greatest challenge facing the contemporary disciple. There was a time when the gospel could be preached and understood in more individualistic categories. The neighbor with whom Christ identified was the man next door, the poor and needy of the village, other members of my family. But today it is impossible to identify with my neighbor unless I think in global terms. Our planet has become so small and the network of relationships so intertwined that one inevitably bears a responsibility for the suffering of men and women everywhere in the world. In 1980 the Brandt commission reported such statistics as the following: the northern hemisphere including Eastern Europe has a quarter of the world's population and four-fifths of its income: the southern hemisphere including China has three billion people, three quarters of the world's population but living on one-fifth of the world's income. Eight hundred million people are estimated to be destitute in the Third World today. It is estimated that hundreds of millions die from lack of food or will have their physical development impaired. The consumption of energy per head in industrialized countries compared to middle-income or low-income countries is in proportion of 100:10:1. Total military expenditures are approaching $450 billion a year, of which over half is spent by the Soviet Union and the United States, while annual spending on official develop-ment aid is only $20 billion. One could argue that such statistics reveal an injustice of tragic proportions according to the norms of any humanistic ethics. But for a Christian it is more 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 than a question of justice. It is the logic of God's love which impels him. If God's being is self-emptying love, if his preferential love is for the poor and powerless, then the disciple who accepts this transvaluation of all ~?alues cannot help but be in deep pain as he is assaulted by the suffering cries of the millions of the poor of the earth. He cannot help but want to identify with them and their plight, for he sees God's face in them. The more deeply one penetrates the mystery of the God of Christian faith, the more one sees the intrinsic connection of the incarnation and the cross. For incarnation is God's identification with creatureliness, finitude, powerlessness. And the ultimate consequence of this identification is the powerlessness of God in the cross of Jesus. To accept Jesus and his Father implies our taking this same powerlessness upon ourselves and our identification with the powerless of the earth. Paradoxically the more one loves this world, the more one is led in love to divest oneself of this world's goods in order to identify more completely with the dispossessed. In our own time it would seem that an authentic Christian spiritual-ity will call not for less poverty but for more. Meditating upon the massive proportions of human suffering, we cannot help but feel compelled to pray not only for the spiritual poverty of self-emptying love but for the grace to identify with the fate of the actually poor as well. The Contemporary Spirituality Of the Monastic Lectio .by Matthias Neurnan, O.S.B. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Parables and Paradigms: Jesus' Journey and the Search for God Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Brother Wieczorek, a seminarian, has taught courses on prayer and mysticism in the Continuing Education Department at Cardinal Stritch College (Milwaukee) and the Ministry and Life Center at his abbey: he lectures at St. Norbert College (De Pete). He resides in St. Norbert Abbey: De Pere. WI 54115. Scripture is the saga of a long and mutual search. God encourages and empow-ers all people to "seek God, in the hope that they might feel after him and find him. Yet he is not far from each one of us, for 'in him we live and move and have our being.'" (Ac 18:27-28: all Scripture verses are from the RSV). At the same time as we search for God, he searches for us. So much the searcher is God, so great is his longing for us, that "though he was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God a thing to be grasped, rather he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant" (Ph 2:6). God gives us an example of how to find him and be found by him in the life of the God-man, Jesus. Nowhere is the search in all its varied hues of meaning, or the spiritual life in all its mysterious rhythms, more clearly seen than in the life of Jesus, the Proto- Searcher. The life of Jesus is itself a parable and paradigm which describes the ebb and flow of the search for God in true fullness and balance. Some insight into the movements of the spiritual life can be gleaned from the following section of Mark's gospel. In those days Jesu~ came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. And when hc came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens opencd and the Spirit dcsccnding upon him like a dove: and a voice came from heaven: "'You are my beloved son: with you I am well pleased." The Spirit immediately drove him out into the wilderness. And he was in the wilderness forty days. tempted by Satan: and he was with the wild beasts: and the angels ministered to him. 517 5"11~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee. preaching the gospel of God. and saying: "'The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent and believe in the gospel." That evening at sundown, they brought to him all who were sick or possessed with demons. And the whole city was gathered together about the door. And he healed many who were sick with various diseases, and cast out many demons: and he would not allow the demons to speak, because they knew him. And in the morning, a great while before day, he rose and went out to ~ lonely place, and there he prayed. And Simon and those who were with him pursued him, and they found him and said to him: ~'E\'ery one is searching for you." And he said to them: "l,et us go on to the next town. that I may preach there also: for that is why I came out"(Mk 1:9-15, 32-38). At least three movements with regard to the spiritual life are visible from this text: the journey of the Father to the Son (Jesus' baptism): the journey of the Son to the Father (Jesus" flight into the wilderness): and the journey of the Father with the Son (Jesus' return to Galilee). The Journey of the Father to the Son In Jesus' baptism the Father reached out to touch his Son. It is always God who initiates the search. Our search is a response to a search on the part of God. We seek and find because we have first been sought and found. What drew Jesus on to the Jordan'? May it not be the same as what draws us on to search for God? For a few, the spiritual life begins with an overwhelming experience of God's presence, an experience powerful enough to sustain them for years of diligent and serious searching. St. Paul's experience of the Risen Christ may be one such example. Many of us, though, are like Augustine. We search out of a want, a need, a hunger for something we do not possess or perhaps even know. God oftentimes initiates the spiritual life with a gift of hunger and longing, with emptiness rather than fullness. We are led on by the reality of our own emptiness. We may not know what we want but we know what we don't have. God some-times initiates the search with an itch. There is a wisdom in this that is often overlooked. The emptiness in which we find ourselves contributes to a condition of desperateness. No one is more ripe or willing to attempt an unheard-of cure or course of action than one who is truly desperate. Only one who has been readied by emptiness, hunger, and longing can respond to the impossible call of following God. Sometimes that hunger can build for years. Or, it may suddenly poke into consciousness even in lives which, in the eyes of the world, should be quite content and satisfied. For example, more and more people feel drawn to religious life during their middle-years, or at least at an age later than had been the norm. Whether their decision to pursue a religious life was a sudden thing or the result of many years of discernment, their choice to abandon one way of life and follow another is a response to a summons that is as persistent as it is intangible. Perhaps it is no accident that Jesus was well into adulthood when he was Parables and Paradigms / 5"19 .baptized. Maybe Jesus had tried to put off his call? Maybe Jesus was drawn to the Jordan by a hunger he had always had but which the Scribes and Pharisees could not satisfy? Jesus' baptism was itself the result of a search: it was the culmination of a decision to believe. Jesus' baptism was a surrender to the Father which involved the acceptance of a call and the attempt at a response. Therefore, Jesus' baptism was the beginning of another search to understand what the Father wanted of him. For Jesus, as for us, the completion of one search--the decision to believe--led to the commencement of another: what form of response is our belief to take? The Journey of the Son into the Father How strongly it is put in Mark's gospel, "The Spirit immediately drove him into the wilderness." Yet, it is not hard to imagine being so overwhelmed by an experience. There have been times in each of our lives when we felt swept away by the devotion of a friend, by an act of love, by a singular twist of fate. Overwhelm-ing experiences often leave us puzzled or speechless as well as joyous and grateful. Afterwards, we feel the need to wander off for a bit, to be alone to consider what really happened and ponder the reasons and implications for our lives. Jesus was overwhelmed at his baptism. The Spirit that drove him into the wilderness was bestowed through the power of God's presence, a presence that possessed him and forced him to try to understand more fully what had happened. The flight of Jesus into the desert can be seen as his search to understand the experience of his baptism. Our response to any situation is mediated by our understanding of what took place. To understand something, though, is not primarily to know about it objec-tively. To understand means to enter into another reality. Understanding does not refer to the ability to master the secret of some mystery. Rather, to truly under-stand someone or something, it is necessary to surrender oneself to it. to pass into it, to participate in it from the inside. When Jesus went into the wilderness he sought the time and space to under-stand the reality of what had happened at the Jordan, to enter into it, to submit himself to it. By leaving his former life behind and going out into the wilderness, Jesus was saying "yes" (2 Co I: 19) to the possibility of entering into a new life. His quest for understanding involved his submission to faith, his entrance into faith, and his participation in the presence and activity .of the Father. The understanding Jesus attained was the understandiffg available only to those who know through loving. Through the bond of love people can know not only what others are thinking but also what is in their hearts. It is by loving that we enter into the life of another, that we can acquire "inside" understanding. Such understanding cannot be earned or purchased: it is the free gift of one person's self-revelation to another. The knowing that comes from loving comes from open-ing up and sharing the heart of another. At Jesus' baptism, the Father opened up his heart to the Son. Jesus' wilderness journey was a searching through the Father's heart. Such a journey can only be made if the giving and revealing are mutual. Therefore, Jesus had to open his heart to the Father. However, by doing 520 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 so he opened it to himself as well. We cannot know God and participate in his life if we remain strangers to ourselves. Understanding comes by loving, and loving is a mutual and freely given gift. If we want to know God and search through his heart we must be willing for the same thing to be done to us. But God will not enter where he is not welcomed. We must guide God through our own hearts, even though they are foreign and frightening. In making a commitment to know God, we make a commitment to know ourselves. The search for God will bring us face to face with reality, with the truth about ourselves. When he shows us himself, God also discloses the truth about ourselves. We cannot hide from one without hiding from the other. We cannot know the one without knowing the other. The wild beasts among whom Jesus lived (Mk 1:13) were not all external creatures. Jesus would have also lived with all the urgings and desires of himself. Luke's gospel brings out some of this in his temptation account (4: I- 13). Jesus had to accept even the beasts within him and we are called to do the same. To spend time alone with God means spending time alone with ourselves in the haunts and wilds of our own hearts. There can be no conversion if we do not first know the truth about ourselves, both our strengths and weaknesses. The Journey of the Father with the Son In the third movement of his spiritual life, the tide which drew Jesus into the wilderness now leads him back. It .is important to see Jesus' return to the people of Galilee not as a separate mission but as a continuation of the one search that led him into the wilderness. The spiritual life as lived by Jesus is not an individual venture, not merely a way of achieving personal self-fulfillment. It is, rather, a way of responsible involve-ment in the lives of others, a life of compassion and service. The temptation we face is to view the spiritual life as a "me and Jesus"enterprise which lifts us beyond the troubles of life. To live as Jesus lived, however, is to live in the service of the whole human family. We characterize the spiritual life as one of serene detachment, blissful tran-scendence from the everyday world. This is not Jesus" spirituality. He did not leave the wilderness to complete his search in even greater isolation. He returned to Galilee because only there could he fully live the search. Only by participating in the life of the world could he enter fully into the life of God. Jesus' search drew him into deeper participation in the love of the Father. God is not a God who remains untroubled by the plight of his people. He is not an indifferent God. Throughout the Old Testament, God continually acts within the realm of history to redeem Israel by empowering people to meet the challenges of the times. The God of Jesus is the God who raised up Moses to lead his people out of slavery. God took Moses out of the solitary life of shepherding and thrust him into the very heart of the social and political arena of his day--even though Moses claimed he Parables and Paradigms / 521 was not equal to the task. The same was true for the Judges who led the people out of the threat of military conquest. God also empowered the prophets to speak on his behalf, taking, in the case of Amos, a vine dresser and making of him a missioner who confronted the social and religious injustice of the northern kingdom. We misunderstand the spiritual life if we sit back and wait until our spiritual lives are all in order before we enter the world of human needs. God takes the weak and makes them strong (I Co 1:27). He begins our transformation in the crucible of solitude but, for most of us, completes it in the arena of apostolic involvement. It was after John had been arrested that Jesus returned to Galilee. To be sure, Jesus considered John a prophet. Did Jesus feel called to "take up the torch" carried by John'? The search of Jesus led him into the responsibility of loving, as the Father loves. The return of Jesus to Galilee was response of love, not only toward the Father, but to all those whom the Father loved. Notice that Jesus came to Galilee, to the home of the outcast and oppressed, to empower the little people, to assure them they had not been forgotten by the Father. Jesus preached with both word and deed. He spoke and acted out of the Father's love. He proclaimed the fullness of time, the passing of the old age, the coming of the kingdom. He taught the necessity of conversion, of turning our lives around to face God (Jr 7:24). He proclaimed a kingdom where faith replaces distrust, love replaces the equity of finance, and understanding replaces judgment. To follow in Jesus' way, we are meant to be heralds and healers, echoing the Word with the quality of our lives. The healing Jesus brought answered a need that went much deeper than bodily illness. The town that gathered about his door (Mk 1:33) sought someone to heal them of doubt; he gave them someone to believe in. They needed to be healed of confusion: he gave them understanding. They needed to be healed from prejudice: he gave them love. They needed to be healed of their aimlessness: he gave them a way to follow. He healed them and so made them ready to undertake his own search. He restored their sight that they might see the way. He gave strength to their limbs to ready them for the march. He expelled the demons which bound them in fear to an age out of which they were afraid to pass. It must have been quite a switch from the solitude of the wilderness for Jesus to have found himself surrounded by demanding people. Yet, despite that switch, Jesus' ministry was a continuation of his interior search to follow the Father. He had .journeyed far down the road of faith during that day of preaching and healing. It is no surprise that Mark describes Jesus going out to a lonely place and praying (Mk 1:35). He had come a long way in a short time: from carpenter to hermit to preacher and healer. What went on within his heart? Had Jesus left the wilderness expecting to be a local prophet like John'? Had the need of the crowd spoken to Jesus of a new sense of ministry? God acted upon Jesus no less in his ministry than in the solitude. The scene may have changed but the voice still called. But what did it say? How had the new 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1982 forum altered the message? One step leads to another but where does the path lead? Where does the journey end? What is the price we must pay for following a whisper? Did these questions plague Jesus as they do those who follow him? For whatever reason, Jesus sought out the wilderness to again comprehend what had happened. He needed time to pray and reflect and understand where the Spirit had taken him and where he was to go. Blazing a trail is a much different matter than simply following one. We too need to withdraw from time to time to ponder the advents of the Lord in our lives. How has he spoken? What did he say? The voice is rarely so clear as to leave us certain. God speaks through daily events, but what does he say? Moreover, the hectic pace of life can cloud our sense of vision and distort our perception of the call. Living leaves us tired and numb. So many other issues seem more pressing than our private prayer. Amid the myriad tragedies of life, the pointless suffering and rampant injustices, how can we continue to thank and praise God? Life points more to the absence of God than to his presence. All this points to the necessity of continuing the search in the solitude of our hearts. The spiritual life is a relationship and no relationship is maintenance free. We need time for prayer and reflection if our spiritual life is to continue growing. It is no secret what happens in a marriage when the lines of communication falter and break down. Yet the time for prayer and solitude with the Lord is not simply a time to be "recharged," as though the Spirit were but a battery which served as a power source for our personal ministry. Our time alone is more than a time to be recharged; it is a time to grow in relationship with God, to share with him person to person. We withdraw for solitude out of the longing of lover for beloved. Jesus' solitude was interrupted by Simon's statement: "Everyone is searching for you." This was a time of decision for Jesus. He could stay where he was and let the people flock to him. Yet, this was not enough, he could not wait for them to find him. "Let us go out into the next town, that I may preach there also: for that is why ! came out" (Mk 1:38). A moment of insight, perhaps, when Jesus understood why he had left the serenity of his solitude with the Father and undertaken to come out and serve the people? He had left the wilderness not only to be found but to seek out and find a people who had become lost and scattered. Jesus, the Searcher- God, saw his mission as a search for the very people who sought him. He would not remain in one place as though he were the end of the search--he was the Way, the proto-type of searching. Those who followed him would be led by his light and come into the truth. He would tell them the way to go and show them the way to follow. The Son would become the shepherd, leading the Father's flocks back into their own pasture

Issue 38.1 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X) is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 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.: $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, 1979 Volume 38 Number 1 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW Fort R~LICIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, 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 38, 1979 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108" Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, SJ. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, 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 edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1979 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Stewardship, Justice and the Religious Purpose in Education William J. Byron, S.J. Father Byron is President'of Scranton Univergity; Scranton, PA 18510. ere are three ideas°ar'ound which I would like toor, ganize this essay. The first two., stewardship and justice, will be relat~ ely brief. The tfiird notion concerns ou~" religious purpose in edu'cation. I holSe to develop it'in~ a way that will make a case for the educ~itional apostolate as'an +xercise of stewardship arid an instrument of justice. Stewardship It has been interesting to obser~ve in the 15as! several°years a renewed' interest in the notion of s~eWardshil5°in the Catholic 'community. We are discove'ring (or rediscoverifig) that"riOt ~0nly is stewardship a simple term, it is also an uncbmplicated~solutioh to significant portions "of some major s~ciai prolSlems. In practice, stewardship is an instrument of social justice. Reflo~ztiOn°ofi'ste~a~dghil~ might begin with the first verse of the Twdfity-fourth Ps~l~a: '"The earth is the Lord's iind"the fulhess thereof." All of material 6reation, as Well as all wealth flowing from it, b~longs to God. Wealth possessed ~r~produced by human persons is owne~ by' God. We own nothing abs0iut~ly; all We have we hold in trust. Thi~ is the ffiith foundation of th6 stewardship perspective. As composites c~f body and soul, we include our intellectual and spiritual resources as part, of the basic endowment which belongs ~to the Lord: Our use of both ~nateri~l and immaterial r~sources is intended to be an exercise of ste,.wafdshio.~ , .~ 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 All we have we hold in trust for other~for those who inhabit this planet with us.now, and for those who will live here in the future. Stewardship has inescapable societal obligations. Why do I say all we have is held in trust for others? Why not owned by God and held by me for my personal use? Why the social dimension? Possession of a particular share of created resources may be private, but that private share cannot be used without regard for others. There are two considerations here: one of equity, the other of responsibility. On the equity side I have to ask, "Is my share a fair one relative to the needs and claims of others?" Put another way, does my share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of others?" The equity issue quite obvi-ously relates more immediately to the possession and use of material re-sources rather than to those that are spiritual and intellectual. It is not necessary for someone to .know less mathematics so that I might know more. My food supply, however, may be held at the expense of someone less fortunate than I. Broadening the equity consideration from the individhal person to a larger group (as, for instance, one's race or nation) one can ask the equity question this way: does my group's share represent an unfair gain taken at the expense of other groups-? The responsibility consideration looks to the future. Are resources being used now in a way that will provide for future generations a secure basis for their existence? Again, this is easier to see with respect to material re-sources. If we depli~e our oil supplies, will they have an alternative source of-energy? If we pollute our lakes and streams, will they have ffater to drink? If we fail to sustain our soil, will they have bread to sustain their lives? What we refer to as "our" resources are also theirs, for they, like us, are sons and daughters of the sole owner, the Lord, who has entrusted his creation to our care and for our use. We are stewards. We own nothing absolutely. All we have we hold in trust. As inhabitants of this earth at this time, we religious educators, like our feilow~ on this planet, have stewardship responsibilities. As members of a religious community, moreover, we possess a tradition, a history, a style, some physical assets and an impressive array of spiritual and intellectual resources. We own none of these absolutely; all of these we hold in trust. We are stewards of this collective religious-community endowment. We face, therefore, considerations of equity and responsibility as we manage our collective endowment. The equity donsideration relates directly to justice and will be discussed in the next part of this article when we have to ask ourselves whether our share of these resources represents an unfair gain taken ai the expense of others. The responsibility consideration looks, as I suggested earlier, to the future. Are we using our resources, particularly our intellec.tual and spir-itual resources, in a way that is likely to enrich the lives of future inhabitants Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education of this planet?°The steward is in charge ofla household he does not.own. Is that ho, usehold being maintained by us in a state of apostolic readiness for effective service now and in the future? The story in ,Luke 16:1-8 of the "unjust steward" or "dishonest manager" serqi~s as a reminder that we can miSlase or misapply our heri-tage; we can indeed violate the trust that is ours. Failure to meet our responsibilities as stewards would mean failure to preserve a heritage that the Lord, the dominus, the owner of the householdmay well intend to have available for the service of future generations. To take my own Jesuit household as an example, I would include in my list of the central elements of the heritage that is now ours tb use and to preserve for the future these four: (1) The Spiritual Exercises, (2) development of the intellect, (3) service to the Holy See, and (4) apostolic flexibility. These four elements suggest that the Society of Jesus intends to foster in itself an embodiment of(1) holiness, (2)learning, (3) service to the Church, and (4)availability for necessary service ~an. ywhere in the world. ,~ Further specification of these elements rais'es four disturbing questions and one simple observation. The questions are these: 1. Does the prefer-ence .for poverty which characterizes The Spiritual Exercises also charac-terize the holiness of the Society today? 2. Does the emphasis on learning, present at the origins of the Society, remain an active emphasis in thisstage of the Society's growth and in all stages of the individual Jesuit's growth? 3. Does service to the Church of Christ and to the Vicar of Christ charac-terize our labors now as in the days of our origins? 4. Are we individually and collectively free to move our heritage and our resources in the direction of the greatest need, wherever that may be? The one observation I ~ould want to make in connection with the stewardship of the Jesuit heritage is this: formal education through the operation of schools, although part of the Jesuit tradition, is neither essen-tial to the heritage nor identifiable as an element that characterizes, the origins of the Society of Jesus. Similar reflection~, questions and observations can be directed toward the heritage and "household management" of any other religious commu-nity. " .~ o,~ 7 Justice Justice is symbolized by trays in balance on a scale. We speak of the "scale~ of justice." ~Vhen one tray yields weight to the other and imbalance occurs, the weights have to be adjusted to restore the balance. Imbalance symbolizes injustice; compen.sation makes adjustment (ad-just-ment), '~the achievement of justice, possible. Three years ago it was my privilege to address the New Orleans (Jesu'it) Province Assembly on th~ justice dimension of our apostolates~ In that paper I asked, "is ~our corporate apostolic service compensatory; are we 6 /ReviewforReligious; Volum~e 38, 197911. throwing our weight ~onto .the side of the oppressed?" I went on to say Symbolidally, justice is ~+l~resented by trays in balance on a scale.- The unbaladce of social injustice, where one group's advantage (th 'down tray) is taken at the expense .of another group (the up tray) calls for compensatory action.As a social group, we Jesuits should sh~ft our weight over to the weak stde. We see gaps between r, ch and poor, powerful and powerless, advantaged and disadvantaged. In exercising our min- " istry of justice, by whatever apostolic instruments, we sl~duld, it seems to me. trans- "' late the ideal of the Third Mode of humility into practice by choosing to be with Christ and as Christ---on the short side of all those gaps. Where do we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income, our apostolic energy? One of the delegat6s to that assembly was the talented young lawyer-activist Alfred C. Kammer, S.J. In the question peribd following my talk, he expressed his personal view that the Society, as a group, occupier solidly and squarely the down tray in most" of the gap-comparisons that come to mind. In his recent contribution to Studies in the' Spirituality of Jesuitst Fr. Kammer~returns to my question, "Where d6 we throw our weight? Where do we throw our wealth, our income; our apostolic ener-gy?" and addresses it in these words: Th~ activist answers Father Byi'on's question by saying that the Society largely casts ' its weight with the "haves.'"with those who at best "don't care" and at worst are'the oppressors. He sees the institutional and personal weight of the Society lined up with the "haves" in such popular dichotomies as .these: white vs. black white vs. brown male vs. female U.S. vs. Third;World powerful vs. , powerless rich vs. poor . suburban vs. urban well-educated vs. poorly educated And, Fr. Kammer continues, "the,activist concludes that no matter how much Jesuits 'tinker' with their present .institutional commitments to facilitate the entry of some minority composed of the poor or disadvan, taged, th~e,.Society's weight is stii! .cgs.t overwhelmingly on the side of the well-off" (p~p. 10-11). I think Fred Kammer locates us Jesuits correctly. Weigh'ted do~v~ with the advantages of education, nutrition, health care, secure housing and all the other physical things necessary for our work, as well as those things less necessary but useful and convenient, we are on the down. tray, on the side of the well-off. Now_this raises many quegtions. What is the relatedness or relati0nship-between us and those who are less well off, those on the up tray, the disadvantaged. Are we Wher~we are because they are where they are? Has our gain been taken at their expense? With whom do we side when the issue ~" 'Burn-out' Contemporary Dilemma for the Jesuit Social Activist." Vol. X. No. 1, January 1978. Stewardship~ Justice and Purpos~e in Education is ,raised of redressing the balance? Without attempting to answer these difficult questions, I raise another that resurrects the,notion of stewardship. What are we do~ing ._with what we have? Do we manage it responsibly, share its, apply it,to the i,mprovement of life for others now and in the future? The Religious, CommUnity's Purpose in Education Many if,not most of us religious in America are stewarding our resources in an institutional educational environment. Will our stewardship-have anything .significant to contribute to .the promotion of justice? It may well be true that ~tinkering with our institutional arrangements will not shift our weight completely and existentially to the side of the poor and powerless. One need not conclude, however, that we must abandon our advantages. Nor does it follow that the down tray is necessarily the wrong place for' many religious to be. If we de=institutionalized our works, if wee gave away every physical asset we igossess ~nd went to live with the poor, poverty wo(dd be fieither relieved nor ~r~duced. We ar~ ~lo~t,lbcked 'into an adversary rel~ti6h~hip on the side ofth( rich againstth6 po6÷, 0n the side of whites against the blacks, on the side of a@ dominantgroup agaii~st any oppressed minoi'ity. We are in a position to'convert the "versus" linkages into hyphens find to forge connecting links of ~:econciliation between rich and poor, black and white, and other- di~,ided ~roups. A~dmittedly, many if not :most of us, a?e on the down tray. Admittedly, all occupants of the down tray will have to give somethingup if some semblance of balance is to b~.realized, and'most are unwilling to give up anything. And admittedly, the effort tO~'fi'chieve a balance between the trays is uphill and long range. But that is ttie.hatu're of the work we are called to do. Are we'free enough to do l~h~at i,v~b{k well? Central to an~ educational ~ork isthe develop~ment 0f"tiun~a~] potential. Human potential stretches into eternity;~the positive~side toward union with the Creatoi"bf that human p0t.e0[i-hl; the negative side points to the possibil: ity of eterh~i! alienation. , Formai education's inte{ests are coextensive with the entire range of positi~,e p~ssibiliti~s for human development. Recognition of this fact came early in Jesuit historY,. For more th~n four centuries now, we have been choosing formal education as an extr~brdinarily v~luable instrument for our work in the development of hum~.n potential. Many other religious in-sii'tutes have made'the same decision. ,:~ ,,~ ¯ At.this moment in our history, we Jesuits of the United States are faced with a.decline in numbers,'a fairly widespread loss.of nerve, some uneasi-ness ,about the appropriateness of our life-style and our ability, to live harmoniously and work effectively in companionship, and we are also faced with nagging doubts about.the apostolic value of what we are doing in,our schools. Our experience is.not uriique. In addition, we Jesuits have~lSeen challenged to redefifi~ ourselves~.and our mission.in terms of the service of 8 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 faith and the promotion of justice: Can this redefinition and concommitant rededication happen without abandonment:of our commitment.to formal educatiori? I think it can. Our Jesuit purpose in education is a logical extension of our stewardship and justice responsibilities.~And the same is true for many other religious. Formal education's interests are coextensive with the entire range of positive possibilities for human development. That is why religious communities choose formal education for their members, and choose to offer formal education to others. Higher education touches that ra.nge" of positive possibilities in a priv-ileged way. Wisdom is areal possibility at the stage of human development associated with higher education. At this level it is the privilege of educa-tors to group themselves into communities of inquiry which may become or beget wisdom communities,. The religious purpose in higher education is to move the minds and hearts of developing persons. The direction of this movement is Godward. The norm is truth. The outcome, it is to be hoped, is wisdom. And wisdom, we would all agree, is a gift from God. As the religious is a faith-committed person, so religious education is intended to be faith-commjttedactivity. If, as faith directs, everything depends on God, then wisdom would suggest that every'thing must be entrusted to God. If such wisdom is present with us at the beginning of religiously sponsored education, it may well be expected to reside with our students at the end of the edpcati0nal experi-ence. Any religious experience involves a search for God's will. This search, in the vocabulary of spirituality, goes b.y the name of discernment. And discernment, as we all know, is a wisdom characteristic. As any Jesuit knows, the Igna.tian way of discernment cannot be learned, from books. It can only be exp,grienced under the direction of a sensitive gpide. Hence, a special task, a privileged opportunity for Jesuits in higher education is to offer the e,xperience' of The Spiritual Exercises to those in .the learning community who want to grow spiritually. In the context o'f the Exercises, as in the classroom, learning should be directed by a motivator-organizer and assimilated by an active participant in the process. As a classroom educator or spiritual guide, the Jesuit, as an instrument of God's grace, is expected to assist the Spirit in moving the minds and hearts of those who want to grow. -' In the domain of higher education, there are many with the potential for wisdom. That is why Jesuits gather there to work. Their task is not only to teach and search for truth in all its forms, but also to share their founder's special grace with those who want to grow the Ignatian way. The Ignatian way toward wisdom is part of the heritage, the endowment over which every Jesuit exercises a stew~irdship responsibility. His antecedent respon-sibility; of course, is to have internalized the Ignatian way. His educational methods :will; not surprisingly, reflect it. Normally, his desire will be to live and work in companionship with others who are familiar with the Ignatian Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education way. And the Jesuit's hope, wherever he works, will be to share this way Or see it shared with others. That is responsible stewardship. It is also part of the Jesuit purpose in education. Parallel purposes, hopes and apostolic approaches characterize the work of other religious who are educators. There is much of a practical nature that (ould be said of education-for-justice efforts now underway in Catholic educational institutions. A lot of experience is accumulating. Rather than listing courses, projects and field experiences of demonstrated value, I would prefer to mention only one program that is designed to assist all educators in addressing the world hunger issue. Atthe 1974 World Food Conference in Rome, Secretary of State Henry Kissinger pledged the cooperation of the United States to work with other nations so that "within a decade no child will go to bed hungry" anywhere in the world. In hopes of facilitating contributions from educational institu-tions toward this goal, Bread for the World Educational Fund launched in 1976 a Decade of Commitment on World Hunger (DCWH). The program is designed for institutions of higher education. It provides conference oppor-tunities for administrators, faculty, campus ministers, career guidance counselors and students to share ways of placing and keeping hunger on the academic agenda. Emphasis is placed on four areas within which colleges ~:an deal with the hunger issue: curriculum, research, campus ministry and career choices made by students ("In the face of the world hunger problem, what are.you going to do with your life?").?~ Som~ of.the best work in justice-education is happening in secondary schools. Again I refrain from listing the specifics. I would, however, like to say a word about the person of the secondary educator. To put it more pr.ecisely, I would like to repeat a great theologian's reflections on the value of the person and importance of the work of the religious who is a high school_teacher. The Jesuit secondary educator is the man John Courtney Murray, de-scribed with admiration and affection as "The Schoolmaster." He spoke of the schoolmaster as the grammarian, the person who is knowledgeable in the elements of his subject, whose knowledge is, in this sense, elementary but certainly not superficial. The schoolmaster is devoted to the communi-cation of these elements as a lifetime work. Being a schoolmaster, said Fr. Murray to a Jesuit audience at Woodstock in 1961, is '~being on the growing edge of things, beca.use the growing edge is youth." "We are supposed to be Jesuit ministers of growth," he added, "'ad profectum animarum." "We are supposed to be men of tomorrow. One of "~The Educational Fund, which can also provide worship aids and high school course-materials on hunger, is a separate corporation closely related to the Christian citi~.ens lobby known simply as Bread for the World (207 East 16th Street, New York City 10003). Membership in Bread for the World (annual dues $10) will keep one informed, by means of a monthly newsletter and background papers, about the hunger issue. "10 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 our earliest undertakings was to become schoolmasters, schoolmen. Doc-trina exacta et solida is first the tradition of the Church; it is also the tradition of reason. We are committed to an intellectual apostolate--a min-istry of and io intelligence." The schoolmaster imparts the skills and guides the maturation process. The more fully the religious schoolmaster or schoolmistress has assimilated the basic elements of his or her religious, heritage, the more valuable is he or she as a role model in the 'midst of the young. The classroom teacher's task is largely one of method and motivation; the object is to move both minds and hearts. Inevitably, the response the teacher stimulates will be a response to himself or herself. This is a privileged relationship. If the sct~oolmaster (or the scholar, for that matter) is a person of justice, a sense of justice will be communicated to the students. If the institution-alized set of arrangements known as a school embodies in its procedures relationships of justice, then those who teach and learn there will, in vary-ing degrees, embody in themselves the principles of justice. The religious schoolmaster has, of course, a life outside the classroom. There are pastoral opportunities and citizenship responsibilities. The apostolic base, the school, can and should.be a place from which the religious reaches out to the Christian and civic communities for the service of faith and promotion.of justice. That outreach will, it might be expected, involve both witness and advocacy roles in 'the cause of justice as an expression of faith. Education for justice is a challenge we religious are capable of meeting. We should have no doubt about that. Whether we will. meet it or not is another matter. But we can, if we choose. The educational outcomes, the results of our efforts to educate for justice, depend on powers beyond our own. There is no reason to believe that the Lord will not raise up men and women of justice in our midst and in our times. I recognize that there is no bne method known now to be the most effective in educating for justice. The argument over method goes back to the Aristotelian notion that the one who does justice will come to under-stand justice; and back as well to Plato's view that the one who first understands justice will then act justly. In this important matter of educat-ing for justice, we Catholic educators have a laboratory system in our American schools and colleges. We can try different methods in different situations and compare results. The findings of our experiments in educa-tion for justice can be shared with other educators in other systems. We can make a difference here. As we do it our way, in the intellectual-educational mode, unjust, ex-pioitative, discriminatory and oppressive situations will remain in our world. But in direct proportion to our success in educating fqr justice, future world situations will have a reduced share of injustice. It is a Chris-tian characteristic not to give up on the future. Stewardship, Justice and Purpose in Education / 11 Father BenWren, a New Orleans Province Jesuit whose scholarly inter-ests include Eastern mysticism, tells me that there is a Chinese saying to0the effect that one who is concerned with planning for a year should plant rice; the person interested in planning for a decade should plant trees. But one who wants to plan for a century will surely want to educate people. There.is a religious purpose in education. That purpose is consistent, for example, with our contemporary Jesuit focus on the service of faith and the specification of that service in the promotion ofjustice. The activist impulse suggested by the word promotion is quite congenial with our purpose and style of education. Through education; we can touch both trays on the scalEs of justice. When we work with the advantaged, we should have the disadvantaged in mind. We can challenge ourselves and all others who occupy the down tray to dedicate ourselves in conscience to making life livable for the poorest of the poor. When we work directly with the e~onom-ically disadvantaged, we can assist them in developing the competencies that can help them move toward a better life. The earliest Jesuit schools were free. But never, so far as I can deter-mine, were Jesuit schools exclusively for the poor or exclusively for the rich. Today, we are with the rich,much more than we are with the poor in our educational work. Who can say that we cannot somehow, somewhere in the decades ahead bring our educational energies into more direct contact with the poor? Who can say that we will not, in the meantime, find new and effective ways of bringing the "haves" with wtiom we work to an accept~ ance of their obligations injustice toward the "have nots"? And who woul~l want to take responsibility for disengaging ourselves from the apostolate that makes either option possible? That last question, in my view, highlights the importance of personal and community life-style for those who work in the educational apostolate. We religious in America are perfectly capable of going soft. We can indeed insulate and isolate ourselves from the condition of the disadvantaged masses. We are capable of-violating our stewardship. If that should happen, justice will not be served and the religious purpose in education will have lost its salt. In The American Mind (Yale, 1950), Henry Steele Commager remarks that for Willa Cather, the past was significant for its moral qualities. Her long literary life was, according to Commager, an elaborate remembrance of things past--the past of the pioneers who had built the West, of the immigrants who had carried with them into the New World their sense of beauty and art, of those earlier spiritual pathfinders, the Franciscans and Jesuits, who had served their fellowmen and their God so selflessly. And all her novels and stories., were animated by a single great theme as they w.ere graced by a single felicitous style, the theme was that of the supremacy of moral and spiritual over material values, the ever recurrent but inexhaustible theme of gaining the whole world and losing one's soul (p. 150). Dealing, as she did, with the frontier as the setting for many of her 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 stories, Miss Cather apparently found inspiration in the frontier idea and saw it as a setting for clarification, and dramatization of moral issues. Hence, as Commager points out, the passing of the pioneer generation meant, to Miss Cather, the passing of all the old virtues, "and she was incapable of believing that there could be different virtues in a civilization whose standards were those of the countinghouse, whose habits were predatory, and whose rewards were social and ostentatious rather than spiritual and private" (p. 154). Commager cites a tribute to Nebraska writ-ten by Willa Cather in the early 1920's: We must face the fact that the splendid story of the pioneers is finished and that no new story worthy to take its place has yet begun . The generation now in the driver's seat hates to make anything, wants to live and die in an automobile, scudding past those acres where the old man used to follow the corn rows up and down. They want to buy everything ready-made: clothes, food., education, music, pleasure; Will the third generation--the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill--be fooled? Will it believe that to live easily is to live happily.'? (p. 154). Two generations have passed since those words were written. Religious at work in Nebraska and elsewhere in America are prepared to admit that many of us in many different driver's seats have been fooled. Regrettably, some of us, by witness and word, have foolishly encouraged others to believe that to live easily is to live happily. The "new story" thatoWilla Cather was looking for in Nebraska,can be written anywhere in America by contemporary religious educators, if they choose to. I suspect that "the full-blooded joyous ones just coming over the hill" are not now being fooled; they recognize that if we want to live happily, we will want to do what we can to make life livable for the poorest of the poor. Schools alone cannot do it and they certainly cannot do it right away. But without the schools, it will not be done at all:. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Michael T. Winstanley, S.D.B. Father Winstanley lectures in New Testament Studies at Ushaw College, the Senior Seminary for the Northern Dioceses of Eng_l, and. He lives in the Salesian community attached to Ushaw College; Durham DH7 9RH; England. His last article, "'Jesus, Poverty and the Kingdom," appeared in the July, 1977 issue. Your vow to remain unmarried for the sake of God's kingdom will draw you into the loneliness of the cross of Jesus and reveal the basic loneliness of every man.1 In his,book The Calvary Christ Gerald O'Collins writes: "Too often a cloud of stale words covers Calvary. Theologians and exegetes can use a language remote from anything we feel. Conventional-religious art asks for our conventional reaction. Tendencies .towards evasion in all of us allow this art to continue and the dull language to grind on. We accept the old fo.rmulas, the familiar crucifixes and the ponderous pronouncements of scholars with a mixture of loyalty and mystification. We need to find and fashi6n ways of reflecting on the crucifixion which can let it speak to us again with. new power.'' How far this statement mirrors our feelings and experience, each indi-viduai must judge. I should like to suggest that one way of reflecting on the crucifixion which can indeed let it speak to us again with new power is to tRulefor a New Brother (London; Darton, Longman & Todd, 1973), p. 16. 2G. O'Collins, The Calvary Christ (London, SCM, 1977), p. ix. 13 14 / Review for Religious, Volume 38,~ 1979/1 take one evangelist's presentation of the passion of Jesus, to meditate on it, and to allow its impact to challenge our lives. For each of the evangelists narrates the story in his own way, with his own particular emphases, highlighting different aspects of the drama, f~cusing different facets of the person of Jesus,.communicating his own theological vision and understand-ing of the significance of the event. Unfortunately, the originality of each approach is often blurred, and the sharpness blunted by the comfortably generalized picture which most of us have. In this article I shall concentrate on one of the motifs which dominates the passion according to Mark, namely the loneliness of Jesus.3 It is this which constitutes his greatest suffering, far more than any physical pain. In fact, Mark, as indeed the other three evangelists, evinces little interest in the physical torments of the Master, laying little stress upon them. Mark's Gospel has been called a passion narrative with a long introduction. This reminds us to view the passion within the framework of the whole Gospel; consequently, in our consideration of some of the elements of the narrative, it will be necessary to refer back to earlier sections of the Gospel. The earliest passion narratives probably began with the arrest scene. "Suddenly, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, appeared, and with him was a crowd armed with swords and ~cudgels; sent by the chief priests, lawyers and elders." The man responsi.ble .for the success of the arrest is not one of those whose constant opposition had dogged Jesus' tracks, but "one of the twelve," one of his friends. Our minds flash back to an earlier scene in which Jesus "then went up into the hill country and called the men he wanted: and they went and joined him. He appointed twelve to be with him, to be sent out to proclaim the gospel, with a commis-sion to drive out devils. So he appointed the twelve .-." (3,13-16). Discipleship is primarily a personal call to the intimacy of friendship, a being "singled out" in order to "be with." It is one of these chosen ones who had shared his fellowship who is the traitor; and the sign of his treach, ery is the normal sign of respect and friendship: "When he reached the spot, he stepped forward at once and said to Jesus, 'Rabbi,' and kissed him. Then they seized him and held him fast." The verb Mark uses here means a particularly ~iffectionate kiss, a firm embrace. After a futile act of token resist~ince which served only to emphasize Jesus' defenselessness, "they deserted him and fled, every one of them," including the~youthful follower who narrowly evaded capture. , Mark recounts this Scene with a laconic matter-of-factness that is chill-ingly disconcerting. Earlier that evening, as they walked together from the supper room to the garden, Jesus had predicted their flight: "You will all fall from .your faith; for it stands written: 'I will strike the shepherd down and the sheep will be scattered.'" And Peter, not untypically, had insisted that he would die even, rather than disown Jesus. "And they all said the same" 3cf. Hendrickx, The Passian Narratives (Manila, East Asian Pastoral Institute, 1977). Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation / 15 (14, 26-31). Yet they were not Slow to seek their own safety and leave Jesus to face his fate alone. This flight and abandonment, the memory of which haunted the early Christians, was in fact the culmination of that failure on the part of the disciples both to understand and to accept the messiahship of Jesus which Mark traces throughout this Gospel, especially after Caesarea Philippi in Chapter Eight. On that occasion, in answer to Jesus' questioning concerning people's opinions about him~ and his further probing as to the views of the disciples, Peter, as their spokesman, professed Jesus' messiahship. Jesus responded by speaking openly about his passion for the first time, which provoked a bewildered attempt to dissuade him. At this time Jesus rebuked Peter in ~strong terms for his thinking as men think rather than as God thinks, and proceeded to outline the nature of discipleship: "~nyone who wishes to be a follower of mine must leave self behind, he must take up his cross and come with me" (8,34). A little later in the narrative, as they journeyed through Galilee, Jesus again spoke of his passion, "but they did not understand what he said and were afraid to ask" (9,32). And on their way they argued about seniority and importance and greatness. Jesus predicted his passion for the third, time on the road going up to Jerusalem in terms which were unmistakably clear. The failure of the disciples to understand is illustrated by the next incident, in which the two sons of Zebedee made a bid for the top jobs in the Kingdom. The rest were naturally indignant about this, a row broke, out, and Jesus, in patient frustra-tion, attempted to open their minds to the nature of his messiahship and of his kingdom, and to the real meaning of discipleship in terms of service (10,44-45). It is this inability or unwillingness to grasp and to accept what messiah-ship meant for Jesus when this proved to be different from what the twelve were expecting and hopiag for; this inability or unwillingness to embrace in vision and in lifestyle the kind of discipleship such a messiah demanded, which expressed itself so decisively in their garden choice not to be "with him," to care for their own safety (8,35), to forsake him and flee. The next scene in the passion drama, comprises Jesus' trial before the Sanhedrin and the denials of Peter; the~e two incidents are closely inter-locked in Mark's account. '~Then they led Jesus away to the High Priest's. house, where the chief priests, elders and doctors of the law were all assembling." Already Mark has clearly designated the Jewish leaders as the ones responsible for Jesus' arrest (14,43), and he indicates each section that made up the San.hedrin, the supreme religious and legislative body. For Mark, these are his real enemies. From the early stages of the public ¯ ministry they have consistently opposed him. In Chapter Two, when the paralytic is brought to Jesus, the doctors of the law consider his talk about 16 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 forgiving sins quite blasphemous, and Jesus vainly attempts to open their eyes as he cures the poor man. A little while la.ter, after the call of Levi, when Jesus is at table with tax-gatherers and sinners, the Pharisees com-plain~ to his disciples about the types he"mixes with; Jesus, on hearing this, retorts, not without a touch of irony: "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick; I did not come to invite virtuous people, but sinners" (2,17). Mark now records the Pharisees' criticism of the disciples for plucking corn on the Sabbath, a complaint which stung Jesus to challenge their basic tenets in enunciating the principle that people mattered more than sabbath regulations. This incident is followed by an episode which underlines the mounting hostility, the failure of Jesus to win acceptance of the religious ~lite. It is a sabbath and Jesus goes to the synagogue, where there is a man with a withered arm. "And they were watching to see whether Jesus would cure him on the sabbath, so that they could bring a charge against him." Aware of their malicious intentions, Jesus tries to draw them, to make them aware of the perversion of religion, the distortion of the image of God, that adherence to legalistic casuistry entailed. He encountered an obstinate and ominous silence, saddening and frustrating. "But the Pharisees, on leaving the synagogue, began plotting against him with the partisans of Herod to see how they could make away with hirh." Thereafter Jesus is obliged to live and to work under the shadow of this threat. The rift widens as the ministry continues, and eventually, as the conflict approaches its climax, Jesus takes the game into their own court, openly challenging them by expelling the money-lenders and merchants from the temple .precincts. On hearing of this, the chief priests and doctors of the Law "sought some means of making away with him, for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching" (11,18). Not long afterwards Jesus spoke that indictment-parable of the wicked husbandmen. The inevitable result was that -they began to look for a way to arrest him, for they saw that the parable was aimed at them; but they were afraid of the people, so they left him alone and went away" (12,12). As that fateful final week progresses we hear of the attempts by the Phari-sees and Herod's party to entrap him in regard to the Caesar tribute (12,13), and by the Sadducees in regard to the resurrection (12,18-27); and we hear Jesus word-lash the doctors of the Law (12,38-40). And so, finally, as the Passover feast approaches, "the chief priests and doctors of the Law were trying to devise some cunning plan to seize him and put him to death" (14,1). Now these men have Jesus in their power at last. From the commence-ment of the so-called trial or enquiry, their intentions are firm and limpid; with cynical singlemindedness "they sought testimony against Jesus to put .him to death" (14,.56). Mark paints the scene in a few, bold, vivid strokes: the balking incompetence of the false witnesses; the silent, dignified, isolated figure of Jesus; his foes bent unanimously on his destruction. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Swiftly the evangelist brings the matter to a head, as the high priest asks Jesus whether he is in fact the Christ. At Jesus' open affirmation, the high priest, with an elaborate dlsplay of passionate horror, accuses him of blas-phemy; and the gathering ends as planned: "they all condemned him as deserving death' '--again Mark emphasizes the unanimity of the opposition, and the utter aloneness of Jesus. Whilst, in an atmosphe.re of frenzied hate and delighted success, Jesus is beaten and mockbd and humiliated, Mark shifts our attention to the courtyard where Peter stands by the fire warming himself in the chill night air. We are familiar with the painful description of Peter's triple denial of the Master. Mark skiifully orders them in a crescendo pattern so that the third denial is the most intense, accompanied by curses and a solemn oath. Some scholars suggest that Peter, still under fire in spite of his first two denials, resorts to the strongest possible manner of dissociating himself from Jesus by actually cursing him; this is the force to be given to that staggering disavowal: "I do not know this man you speak of"--an even more emphatic restatement of his earlier rejection of Jesus' messianic way at Caesarea Philippi. Peter, singled out to be with him, decisively opts in public not to be with him. Mark heightens the effect of this by juxtaposing the incident with the trial .scene: Jesus, true to himself and his mission, affirms what he cannot deny, his messiahship; and he is rejected by the religious leaders of his own people and by his closest follower. Alone and in chains, he is led away and handed over to pagan power (15,1). The rejection and isolation of Jesus is further accentuated in the subse-quent scene when the ordinary people shout for his death. The fickleness of crowds, the fragility of public opinion, is a commonly recognized phe-nomenon. From the statements of the Pharisees cited earlier, it would seem that Jesus continued to enjoy a considerable amount of popularity with the masses. Yet their acclaim was always suspect. Quite early in the Gospel, Mark describes the wave of enthusiasm and excitement sparked by Jesus' miracles and teaching; the people flocked to him with their sick, and hung on his words. But their response went little deeper. For the most part, they misunderstood the nature of his kingdom, the,genre of his peculiar messia-nism. They were not won to faith; they were prone to disappointment and disillusionment, with the resentful antagonism that this engenders. Now, when Pilate in a desperate effort to release him, offered the mob the option of choosing "Jesus Barabbas," as he was probably called, a freedom fighter convicted of murder, or Jesus of Nazareth, the crowd, incited by the chief priests, clamored for the insurrectionist, and screamed for Jesus to be committed to the hideous torture-death of crucifixion. We should not allow our familiarity with the story to dull our sensitivity to the poignant pain of that scene, the dreadful irony as the nation whose whole history pointed to this moment, the nation chosen out of all peoples on the face of the earth to be God's own people (Dt 7,6ff.), disowned their 11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 Emmanuel. Jesus stands there in the open, alone, the impassioned cries of the people that was his people ringing in his ears, as they chant his rejection. His bitter desolation is intensified by a sense of injustice. Even Pilate was convinced of his innocence: "Why, what harm has he done?" Thus he is abandoned tothe Roman soldiery. In his economic description of the crucifixion and death of Jesus, Mark emphasizes the solitude of Jesus by mentioning details which, because of our acquaintance with the versions of Luke and John, we are apt to over-look. After the passers-by had hurled abuse at him and mocked him in his helpless anguish, and the lawyers had jested and gibed, "even those who were crucified with him taunted him" (15,32). At the end the robbers, too, renounce his companionship; Jesus does not belong even with his fellow-sufferers. Similarly, it is only after the death of Jesus that mention is made of the women who had followed him from Galilee, and who "were watching from a distance" (15,40). At the foot of the cross there is no mother, no beloved disciple; Jesus died utterly alone. The searing anguish of his pain and loneliness arid failure is focused and captured in the loud cry from the cross: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" But he died "without a word or a wink from God to reassure him that, whatever the gawking crowd might think, he knew that Jesus was not only innocent, but valid where it mattered.''4 Jesus' sense of total rejection by men is compounded and intensified by his feeling abandoned by the Father,.by his experience of estrangement and alienation that be-longs to our sinfulness. The psalm that Jesus is citing is a psalm of uncon-ditional trust in God's love and ultimate vindication. The last words of Jesus are a radical expresSion of his loneliness, and a "radical expression of a devotion to God which endures in every adverse experience--a devotion which continues to claim God as 'my' God and will not let him go although he can be experienced only as the absent One who has'forsaken the peti-tioner.''~ It is this surrender in love and trust that is our window into the mystery of his personality, for it is the human expression of what.we have come to call divine sonship; it is this surrender in the brokenness of death which, like the buried grain, is the source of our life.6 It is, I believe, true that Mark's way of presenting the passion of Jesus can allow it to "speak to us again with new power," speak to us with hope and with challenge in the center of our experience. All of us know at first hand the meaning of loneliness. I still vividly remember my feelings of desolate helplessness on the occasion of my first day at school as mother walked out of the playground beyond the iron fence. Or years later, when, having spent three years in enclosed quasi-monastic surroundings, I went to sit my finals in London, sporting a large 4L. E. Keck, A Future for the Historical Jesus (London, SCM, 1972), p. 229. ~E. Schweizer, The Good News according to Mark (London, SPCK, 1971), p. 353. ncf. my article "Trust--the Life-Attitude of Jesus" in Doctrine and Life, Nov. "76, pp. 803 ft. Discipleship and Loneliness: A Marcan Meditation Roman collar at twenty-one; everything and everyone seemed to be telling me that I did not belong~°I recall also the numbing sense'of lostness that came over me as' the train hissed noisily to a halt in Wigan station the evening 'my father died. Loneliness has many forms: the jarring sadness of bereavement, the corrosive listlessness of loss and separation, the anguished alienation and shame.of guilt and sin, thedisappointment of failure, the isolation of intense physigal suffering or imprisonment; the d(structive discouragement and paralysis of non-acceptance and rejection, the pain of misunderstanding and estrangement, the gnawing emptiness of unfulfilled longing for intimacy and genuine cbmpanionship, the absence of~God. Loneliness is thic.kly woven into the fabric of our lives, it.is a facet of our human poverty, our poverty of being. But Mark assures us that it is an aspect of being human that Jesus-fully shared throughout his ministry and especially in hi~ final hours. Most of us are anxious to avoid pain, physical pain; our medical and pharmaceutical experts have mercifully developed many varieties of anal-gesic. Most of us, likewise, sedulously attempt to avoid the pain of loneli-ness; and our society has developed a wide range of would-be anaesthetics--from discos to little dog~--to soften the abrasive harshness of our experience. I, for one, am very grateful for the refuge and comfort afforded by the telephone! And yet I wonder whether Mark is challenging us as disciples of Jesus to Cope with our loneliness m. ore creatively. Whilst recognizing with thanks the extent to which he made the experience of loneliness his own, perhaps we are reluctant to recognize that he did what most of us, most of the time, seek to .shun. In spite of gripping fear and instinctive repugnance, he did not run away from it; and his steadfastness transformed it into a life-giving element of redemption. Perhaps it is here that Mark is speaking to us again with new power; perhaps the challenge for disciples of Jesus consists in transforming the pain of loneliness into a source of personal growth and of life for others. It is very important that instead of taking one of the numerous escape roads open to us, we learn to come to terms with our loneliness and listen to our own feelings and struggles, our aspirations and questions, and live themacceptingly. It is here in the unique my.stery'of our personal selfhood, in the depths of our being, that we must have the courage to allow God to find us. It is here that his call is to be heard: "Do not be afraid, for I am with you . " So often God seems absent for the simple reason that we are fearfully evading his loving presence. Loneliness is paradoxically a poten-tial source of enrichment, for it can teach us the meaning of poverty of spirit, which opens us to the gift of God's kingly rule through the Spirit poured into our hearts, that surrender in loving and trusting obedience which is the hallmark of the Master.7 rI'his is developed by Henri J. M. Nouwen, Reaching Out (London, Collins, 1976), pp. 25-101. 90 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 In learning to come to terms with our loneliness, we may learn like Jesus, to love more genuinely, more compassionately. Our going out to others will be legs oriented to answering our own needs for companionship and fulfillment, and will become an expression of authentic service which can liberate and heal and enliven. At Caesarea Philippi, Jesus asked Peter and the other eleven: ~' And you, who do you say I am?" He reiterates this question to each Christian daily. Peter was able to acknowledge J~esus as Messiah, but his response was inadequate, it did not involve a willingness to follow in his way; he jibbed at the implications of discipleship. Loneliness, failure, misunderstanding, rejection are always painful, very painful, and are a constant in our human experience; a constant, however, shot through with hope because of the paschal mystery of Christ. Our answer as disciples to the challenging ques-tion of Jesus must be expressed in our willingness to take up this cross and go "with him." A Lamb Looks Through the Fence (Where the grass appears to be greener) The grass is greener on the other side: At least, it seems that way. Shepherd, give me a heart content To praise, to server to stay. This is the pasture of Your choice, And lessons here await: Calm the longings of my heart And bid the storms abate. For fences also keep us safe, Hedged in with loving care, Provided for and protected from The lion and the bear. Teach me to trust--this humble prayer Removes the restless yen: Some day we'll see from a higher view How green our side has been. Vi~la Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities Leonard J. Crowley Leonard J. Crowley, Titular Bishop of Mons in Numedia, is Auxiliary Bishop of Montreal. He is Director Of the Office for English Language Affairs in the archdiocese; 2000 Sherbrooke St. West; Montreal, Que. H3H IG4; Canada. n the very fitting context of the Feast of Pentecost last year, two Roman Congregations (The Congregation for Bishops and the Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes) promulgated a very significant docu-ment on Directives for the Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Reli-gious in the Church. The statement is significant, for its very existence admits that there is room for growth in understanding between the episcopal office and religious communities. For far too long within the Church's often turbulent history there has been too little fruitful communication between the overseers of the faith and those specialists who have a particular and time-honored gift to share with the faithful. Th~ warning of John Cassian to his monks in the fourth century seems, even today, to express a deep-seated mistrust: "The two groups you must avoid at all times are women and the bishops." The Diocesan/Religious Rivalry This basic antipathy often shows itself as well in the ranks of those from whom the residential bishop is normally chosen in North America--the diocesan clergy. What some may naively call a healthy rivalry between religious and diocesan groups is often~ at root, a basic distrust of one another's real motives and abilities in the exercise of the apostolate. 21 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 This recent document addresses itself directly to this sorry condition where it exhorts that "efforts should be made to renew the bonds of fratero nity and cooperation between the diocesan clergy and communities of religious." It even suggests the context of "simple and informal" gather-ings "which serve to increase mutual trust, apostolic solidarity, and fra-ternal harmony" (37). The duty for seeing to it that such fraternal gattierings take place and grow in significance and depth is placed squarely, as it should be, on the shoulders of the bishop. Furthermore, it is the duty of the bishop to so blend the services of diocesan and religious groups that each recognize members of outstanding talent and together support their promotion to positions of service commensurate with their capabilities; for "the bishop should . . . exhort the diocesan priests to recognize gratefully the fruitful contribution made by religious to their Church and to approve willingly their nomination to positions of greater responsibility which are consbnant with their vocation and competency" (55). In basic fact, if we truly are to witness to the mystery of the Lord Jesus in our midst, then there should be no rivalry but only harmony in the service we render. The bishop and his diocesan assistants should rejoice in the presence of specialists who bring a particular talent to minister ina certain area to the People of God. In such a context, "bishops, along with their clergy, should be convinced advo-cates of the consecrated life, defenders of religious communities, promoters of vocations, firm guardians of the specific character of each religious family both in the spiritual and in ihe apostolic field" (28). As a matter of fact, it is the bishop's "specific office to defend consecrated life, to foster and animate the fidelity and authenticity of religious and .~o, help them become part of the communion and of the evangelizing action of his church, acc.ording to their distinctive nature" (52). ~ Difficulties of Identification But herein lies the crux of the problem. Many a bishop would be hard pressed to identify the "distinctive nature" of the religious groups en-trusted to his watchful overseeing. In many instances there seems to have ¯ been a loss of clear identity on the part of religious communities. The bishop i~ fully aware, in most instances, that "the very nature of apostolic action requires that [he] give precedence to interior recollection and to the life of prayer;" but he is also frustrated by the realization that some religious apparently have not taken to heart the realization that they must, "in conformity with their distinctive nature, renew themselves in depth and be assiduous in prayer" (23a). What a bishop must be seeking from religious who reside in or enter his diocese is a specific dedication and consecration to a form of spirituality and to an apostolic witness that is as clear and as vital as it was when the Ruleo that embodies that life was first written. The bishop must be concerned with the future of his flock; but he wants that future founded solidly in the values that have come out of the past. Therefore he must be in search of"religious Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities [who], even while showing a particular spirit of enterprise and foresight for the future, [are] intensely loyal to the intention and spirit of their insti-tute." (34). However, the simple fact appears to be that many religious groups have maintained a loyalty to their institute but have lost sight of both its intention and its spirit. The Second, Vatican Council has urged. The Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life to begin with a sincere return to the spirit and the mind of the Founder and from that unique font to build anew a personal and communal zeal for the spread of the Gospel, in all its richness. It is obvious that many, if not all, religious communities have adapted themselves, their customs, their habits, to the contemporary condition--not without a great deal of soul-searching, painful compromise, and interminable meetings. But adaptation was the easier half of the challenge and directive laid down by Perfectae Caritatis. How many communities have gone on to embrace a radical renewal of their original spirit? For it is in the light of that question that one can honestly ask about the future relevance of religious life. Ignorance of Specific Spirit In many instances, individual religious find it all but impossible to dis-tinguish the uniqueness of their charism from that of other religious commu-nities. Beyond a loyal chauvinism for their own institute, many admit that their vision, their mission, their methodology is essentially the same as evi~ryone else's. The historical reasons that called: the original foundation into existence often are gone now, the needs alleviated, the witness fulfi!led, the expectations satisfied. The more specific the historical reason for the foundation, the more difficult becomes the task of pinpointing its relevance now in the latter part of the twentieth century. This quandary has caused much frustration on the part of dedicated and deeply concerned men and women who recognize the values of their traditions, see a need for apostolic zeal within the mission of the Church, but find it difficult to wed the two into an effective and realistic union within the contemporary con-text. What has happened in the minds of many young religious is to say, "Forget the past. Deal with the present and prepare for the future." But such an outlook definitely isolates one frbmthe ~rich traditions that give reason for the continuing existence of the particular institute. It truly ap-pears that too many religious today are ignorant of the spirit that enkindled the foundation of their community. They may know its historical back-ground; but they have done little to identify with .the charismatic zeal that gives them a uniqueness and an individuality so necessary in building up the full experience that is Church. For there appears today to be little difference between one religious community and another except in terms of an accident of history or geography. Beyond the clear distinctions offered by the stric~tly contemplative and monastic communities, religious orders and societies seem to have Ihid aside those distinctions that called them into 24 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 existence. Many individuals apparently responded to a vocational urging as personified in a particular individual: a teacher, a pastor, a chaplain, a family friend. The specific community to which that individual belonged meant little, except that it was the obvious context within which the indi-vidual was to pursue his vocation if he intended to follow the lead of his childhood hero. Thus many young men have gone in pursuit of the priest-hood, not as a diocesan priest or as a member of a religious community, but as a priest like Father Racine, or Father Joe, or Father O'Brien. Many young ladies simply continued their religious quest in the same context as the academy or the convent school to which they were sent by parents desirous of the best education possible for their offspring and knowing that the "good sisters" would provide just that. Symbol of Identity Of course, as the individual comes to identify with the community to which he has gone, to learn of its traditions and history during his years of postulancy and novitiate, he doubtless grows in love for and identification with the order or the congregation. That identity used to be symbolized .very powerfully in the reception of the religious habit. More than anything else, the habit had been the external symbol of an internal commitment. For many communities of religious women, the bishop was called upon to participate in this very important step in identification with the spirit of the Founder and the vision of the order. But, for many communities today, the habit stands as a symbol of the past. And the search for a clear, contempo-rary sign of identification whereby new members might feel a sense of oneness with the community has been a very frustrating one. Yet, in the beginning, it was not the habit that gave identity; it was the spirit and zeal of the Founder, as these drives inspired the community, giving a clear sense of purpose and single-mindedness to all who embraced the Holy Rule. It is that spirit which must be renewed in religious communities today if the symbols of religious life are to have any role to fulfill within the Church. The Problem of Stability Because many religious communities have been established for the ministry of the Universal Church and not for the local church alone, many within a diocese, often the bishop himself, tend to resent the fluidity of a religious community's commitment to a particular apostolic endeavor. For such persons, whose commitment to the local church is total, there is a very deep-seated hesitancy to entrust the fulfillment of a ministry to a group whose commitment often seems to be as long as its superior's vision is far-reaching. Such an anxiety seems natural and even fortified by the gospel parable about the hireling and the good shepherd. However, what many, whose commitment to the local church is so intense, fail to recognize or to acknowledge is that the purpose of religious exemption is "so that institutes Reflections of a Bishop on Religious Communities carl express their identity more adequately and devote themselves~to ,the common good with special generosity and on a wider scale" (22). If all who work together within the diocesan community have a proper appreciation of the exempt status as "a certain expression of that pastoral concern which unites them intimately with the Roman Pontiff for the universal care of all people," such an awareness "will promote greatly increased apostolic' ini-tiative and missionary zeal in every particular church" (22). ' Of course, every religious community that comes to ~erve the local church, even if it does beloia~ to an institute of pontifical right, "should feel themselves truly a part of the diocesan family" (18b). Therefore their com-mitment should be as deep find their solicitude as pervasive as every other apostolic witness within thediocese. However, in those situations where an institution finds itself "unable to carry on a given undertaking, its superiors should, in good time andwith~confidence; make known the factors hinder-ing its continuance at least in its actual form, especially if this lack is due to personnel. For~his part, ti~e local ordinary should consider sympatheti-cally the re~luest to withdraw from the undertaking and in common accord with the superiors seek a suitable solu'tion" (47). in other words, every local Church must always see itself as a vital organ of the universal People of God under the guidance of the Holy F~ther. None of us can afford to allow our apostolic vision to become so myopic as to blind us to the needs beyond our own backyard. Bishops~ especially, must realize that the zealous service of religious in his pastoral domain is always carried on'with a sense-of ministry to the Universal Church. Such a presence, then, is a blessing as it broadens the horizons of our apostolic perspective and helps us to appreciate more deeply the total concern of the Father for all his children. Thus as religious come and go within a diocese, neither the ordinary nor his diocesan assistants should resent their fluidity but shoiald see, in their willingriess to move as the Spirit calls them, a vivid reminder that we all are a pilgrim people on the move to the home that we can ohly begin to build toward in this world. The Church is larger and more loving than any of us. We must always st.rive to be of humble service to her needs and to free those who feel the ardent call to another vineyard, to another manifestation of the Spirit's solicitude in the midst of the people of God. Future Expectations Religious ~ommunities are ~:alled today to "devote themselves with full awareness and zeal to the task 0f incarnating and manife.sting in the diocese the specific witness and the genuine mission of their institute" (22). This is the value and the service that the bishops, are going to be searching for in the future, all the more so ,as they realize quite clearly that they "are entrusted with the duty of caring for religious charisms . [For] in this way;" by fostering religious life and protecting it in conformity with its own Review for Religious, Volume 38,~!~979/1 definite characteristics, bishops fulfill a real. pastoral duty" (9c). Thus the bi~hopJs going to be in search of and solicitous for those communities that. are responding in the modem day to the needs of the Church after the spirit and .with the zeal of their founders. Quite obviously, then, "religious supe-i- iors have a grave duty, their foremost responsibility in fact, to assure'the fidelity of the members to the charism of the Founder, by fostering :the renewal prescribed by the Council and required by the.times" (14c). The future of religious life will lie in the oab!ljty that each religious community has to move away from the mentali~ty of being an embattled camp; of~asse~ting, by quality of performanceoand depth of, solicitude, the recognition that "every institute exists.for the Church and must enrich her with its.~distinctive characteristics, according~to a particular spirit,and a specific mission" (14b). Eacho!n,stitute-is a shepherd, not a hireling-~.,~but only, ifoit speaks with the voice of its Founder who echoes the voice of the Good Shepherd. "The very charism of the founders appears a_s "an experi-ence of the Spirit' transmitted to their ,disciples to be lived, safeguarded, deepened and constantly developed by them, in harm~gny with the Body of Christ, continually in the process oLgrowth" (11). o. The future of the religious life de, pends, then, on a renewal that will be as much new as it will be re-. Besides a deep appreciation of the~historical origin and vision of one's community, each one,must se, ek innovative and creative ways w~ith which to bringthe wisdom an~t°~technology of contempo-rary society to bear upon the timeless values articulated, by the Lord Jesus and specifi.cally~ pursued within a particular religious context. The more clearly and more wholesomely we can make those value~"'li.~,e in our own day, the more relevant and essential becohaes the role we intend to.fulfillS' That is one reason why the renewal of the religio~us life remains ~such a crucial issue. However, that renewal is feasible only if each in~stitiate ,and every member is clearly aware that"it is necessary to preserve the identity of each institute so securely, that the danger of an ill-defined situation be avoide.d, le§t0religi,ous, failing to give .due consideration to the .particular mode of action proper to their character, become part of the ]if~"of the Ch.urch.in~a vague and ambiguous way" (11). ~_ Personal Reflection' As a bishop, I have been renewed by this document from the two ¯ Congregations, with a sense of the very serious responsibility that I have for the religious communities who minister to the people .I w.atgh o.ver.~I have always hoped that the religious who come into our midst would bring their special gifts and talents to' bea~- however or wherever thei.r apostolic pre~s-ence took them. Now I realize more clearlyothat, together wit.h my brother bishops, !' have a duty to help.directly and distinctly the religious commu~ nities in our midst to remain true to their founders' ideals and to fulfill ~their, specific mission in th.e w_ay that they alone °can do. In other words, 9s bishop, it is my duty to see to it that the apostolic commitment of each ~ ~ ~ ., ~ Refie~ctions.-bf a Bishop on Religigus Communities / 27 community is in keeping with and true to the spirit of their Rule. I must be available to help each religious entrusted to my pastoral care--and that includes every one in the diocese where I ministeruto be true to the specific charism of his or her community. It is my deep hope and confident prayer that religious, for their part, will serve each diocese in which they labor, not as general practitioners of gospel values (nor will: they accept ministries which would expect such an approach), but rather will share the fruits of their own foundations with the whole people of God in the particular and unique way that they are able. Admittedly such an approach demands a restructuring on the part of young and old alike. But that revamping is essential to the future flowering of the religious life and the future fulfillment of the Church. Unity Through Diversity In conclusion, the renewal of every religious community is eventually going to bring each congregation to the realization that we are all struggling toward the day when Jesus will be "'all in all," where there will be no distinct communities because the vision of every founder will finally be focused together in~ the one reality of the Lord Jesus. And there will be'no more religious communities because there will be only one religious Com-munity in the City of Goti; there will be, in the-~0rds of St.'Aug~astine, "one Christ loving himself." Yet, as we move toward that day of fulfillment, we musl move in the paradoxical fashion of human naturemfor~we move toward unity through .diversity. It is that great diversity of religious ingight and,~xp~erience which must be shared.with the Christian Community'in order that its unity might be achieved mor~ effectively and all-inclusively. In order to accomplish that objective; y,oung religious must take gr~at pride in the"tradition to which they ~ commit themselves, a pride that will make them zealous sharers, with all'God's people, of:the girls entrusted by the Spirit to their care. For ,those girls shall be, preserved only if they are generously commu-nicated to and'for the Church. And religious must learn to see in the bishop ,a source of support and solicitude, no longer the "'enemy,''-~but a loving brother, deeply concerned for their well-being and their growth. For the bishop clearly should understand that the future of religiousfife is the future life of the Church. - ~0 As the~Spirit shared the great diversity of his charisms on. that first Pentecost, magi the message that Mother Church has given to her ministers on this past Pentecost Sunday fill all of us ~4ith deep respect and concern for the building up of the girls entrusted to each of us for the life of the Church. Th, en.the grace of the Ho!y ,Spirit will fio~d fulfillment in us all as we bec~me truly one in Christ to the glory of God "the Father. From.""Ministry'' tO"Church Work" The.Fate of Tired Souls Paul Marceau, C.S.C.' " Father Marceau is a doctoral candidate in spirituality at the Graduate Theological Union, .Berkeley, CA. Presently he is on the staff of Moreau Seminary; Notre Dame, IN 46556. n the aftermath of the recen~ papal election a news commentator referred to one of Pope John Paul's distant predecessors who, after assuming the office, said that he spent so much time tending to the needs of others that he was in danger of becoming a stranger to himself. The problem of the threat of'being consumed by the demands of ministry is not a new one. Jesus himself seemed to recognize this danger and from time to,time would draw the disciples aside to rest (Mt 14:13f.). In this articl6 I~will sketch what 1 believe ~to be a particular form which that problem' takes 'in apostolic religious life today: the phenomenon of the over-burdened, under-cared-for religious who is being consumed by apostolic and community work and who, in the process, may be dying a slow and painful death as a human being, a minister, and a religious. As the life of such a person gets frag-mented by the constant demands of apostolic ministry there is a danger of losing one's personal center, and one's relationship with God becomes threatened in the process. Whenthat happens in the life of any minister in the Church I would suggest'that the apostolic activity of such an individual ceases to be "ministry" °and becomes only "church work." Most reiigious in apostolic communities have found (and continue to find) the early years of ministry an intoxicating experience. The apostolic life which they enter after their years in formation is challenging and de-manding. There seems to be so much to be done, so many needs to be 28 From ,"Ministry" to '~Church Work" attended. Within a short time the religious begins to feel needed and ap-preciated in ways that were unknown and perhaps impossible in the years of formation? There. develops a greater sense of self-worth as the person begins to do what he or she could only reflect upon or do only in a controlled and well-regulated way in the years of formation. There is a sense that one is finally fully immersed in ministry and with that comes the sense that one isat last doing something with his or her life, and not simply preparing to do so. A.new dimension of the personality develops and becomes more cen-tral: that of the hainister and apostle. The focus shifts from what ~was, in the years of fOrmation, substantially pr.eparatory, receptive, and to a large degre,e inner-directed and reflective to the active, the outward, the full immersion in ministry. The apostplate in these early years after formation makes heavy de-mands on self and time but most individuals are excited by this and would not want it to be otherwise. With the constant need and cpnstant demand of the apo.stolate, however, there come problems with the m.anagement of one's time and, ,indeed, of one's life. There is less and less time (and perhaps even desire) for leisure, for one's own concerns, for reflection upon one's life. Given the choice between the needs of others and one's "free time"0 (and there doe~ not alw.ays seem to be a choice), the religious often sacrific~es w.tlat .is the e~siest to sacrifice: personal time and space. Prior to the Changes in religious iife'which took place following Vatican I1, time for prayer and reflection was protected, at least in theory,2 by being built into~ the schedule. Such tim(for private ~'ea.ding, prayer, and refl+ction, how-ever, isnow no longer "given"; it has to be found and it seems ~ncreasingly difficult.to find it. Personal prayer and reflection gradually have come to be nudged out of the lives of many by the hectic ~nd busy pace of their apostolic.life. Indeed, there was a time in the past decade when such times aside f(om'ministry were rl.o.t only considered luxuries but were Iobked upon as 'selfish luxuries, as time stolen from the service of others in need. Perso'n~l prayer beco~n"e~, problematic, even for those with the best of intentions. Few, if any.~,fiaiike a conscious decision to give UP personal prayer; it gimply gets~ pushed out by the "more important" and more immediate concerns of Io~,e and service to others. It is a gradual process by which people's lives simply become so overwhelmed by the 9postolic and. qn the past. of course, apostolic involvement during the years of formation w~s minimal. Young religious were protected from such "outside" distractions. As a result, for people trained in such a context, immersion into full-time ministry,provided a shocking change from . their years of formation, The change is less abrupt today since significant apostolic involve-ment is seen as a critical part of formation. Nevertheless, the "full-time" ministry has a dynamic of its own which can really be experienced only in the doing of it, no matter how well one is prepared for it. zWhile time for meditation, spiritual ~'eading, examination of conscience, and so forth, may have been provided in previous schedules, there is certainly enough evidence to wonder to what extent such schedules were ac~tually honored--other than by those in formation. 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 community demands that there is simply no time "left over" for oneself., Finding time for' personal prayer becomes a terrible.struggle, the wagingof, ahopeless, losing war. For some, the loss of,,that dimension of their re-ligious life is easily justified by their appeal .to the demands of ministry; for others Such loss is--the Source of much shame and guilt.~ Foi" many, prayer has bedome a time squeezed into'fi hectic and already' cluttered day. It is ~so~ething to be fitted in between Walter Crorikite ahd'~ an evenin~g meeting, or between a dis~tressing hous~ meeting arid the celebration of the Eticharist.:These patterns of prayer-time tend to reflect their livegt prayer time itselfis'9 hectic and bdsy,°'often cluttered, time. Even when the time is fotindfor it, prayer is'filled with the concerns of 0ne's~ day. It is a time full of distractions, a very busy and unfocused time, filled~ with the hundreds of stimuli that the individual brings off ~he street with him: The time which one struggles to have alone'with God becomes a time to do a lot Of religious "business," a trine for pra~,ing for the concerns ministry, .for commending to ~he Lord all the. wounded who ha~d tbuched one's life that day. The time "aside" is really no time aside at'fill but simply a 'diffei-erit'fOi'um for doing what"one had been doing all'day long. " " For"others, the dynamic of personal prayer shiftg from "time aside" to prayer-on-the-i'un, a kind of "are you running ~vith me~, 'Jesus" format. There is sirrligly no 'time to tend to the'personal reli~gidoiums e"n °s i~o'n~ "o:f ~ o' n~e* :s~ ' life, and God is put on "hofoldr "~ n'"creas"~ °ngly lon"g ~er. "p~e ,r i.~ods of time. Not infrequently i'eligious m~ke little bargains with God, prom'ising to return to him at a latCr date when there is more time available: "I'm g?ing tO be very busy this s~'ineste~ and I reall3i won't have mucl~time for prayer ' but I'll get back t'~3ibu at Chris~tmasvacation or during the~summer when things let up a liitle." But Chrqst~n°~s o~:summer vacation corhes along, and when there ts finally t~me for prayer, such individuals find that they can no longer pray as they once d~d because they have fallen out of the habit of personal prayer. The closeness and the ~nt~macy ~s no longer there; God seems to be further away. The more personal, direct and intimat~'relationship~vith God that one might have known in quieter and mor~ peaceful ti~e~ is gone. There is a dis-ea'se about one's relationship to God, and the times alone with him are f0un'd~{o be somewhat strained and uncomfortable. The struggle to fi'nd some t~me aside does not, aftei- all, seem to' be quite worth it because thOre does not seem to be much pbint to it. " ~ Iwshort, given the difficulty of finding times for prayer,~ and the busy and hectic pace we experience,e.ven when they fire found, prayer time becomes~ more and more minimalT"and what there is becomes increasingly lesg satisfying. As a.result,, m~ore and more weight for the spiritual life comes to be put on community, or on "apostolic prayer." Liturgy and'common prayer become the focus and substance of the prayer life .of many to the exclusion of~all other forms. But with that, .there is often felt an, uncom-fortable dissonance between what one says in his~ministry and'what one' From "Ministry" ,to "Church Work" d0es.-,Thus~, although he may preach eloquently; celebrate reverently, discuss the gospel enthusiastically and be complimented and affirmed by his parishioners, students, and fellow community members as being a good priest andreligious, the spiritual dimension of apostolic and community I.ife seems to have no echO;in his ownolife: He believes the message and is sincere when he tblls others about it, but at times it seems very far frorfi what he himselffis experiencing. Neverthe!ess, sharing sacraments,and common prayer~with others is at least a lifeline for many. When there is a dis-ease and a discomfort about being too alone with oneself and with°G0d, one can often find solace in participating in the more formal, more .struc-ttired ,forms of prayer, such as the sacraments and Office, since slach f/arms allow 'one to approach God without being too alone before him. Just as p~ople must build up habits of pr.aYer with time and practice, so it is that they fall out of the habits of personal prayer. Thps, ~hen a pe,rson's life become~ overwhelmed and fragmented by a busy and hectic apostolic ministry, personal prayer becomes difficult not only because of time con-siderations but because the doing of it becomes an uns~itigfying thing. For one who has fallen out of the practice .of personal prayer, moments o~f aloneness can become very frightening, and so instead of struggling tofind such times of alonene'gs and of the oppo~:tunity to foc~us within, the religio0,s may eventually fipd h~mself strugghng to avotd focusing w~th~n for fear of seeing too deeply, with to6"~uch clarity, ~hat may be happening to his fraghaehted life. When tli~it' h~ppens, the 'i~dividual spends an enor~mous amount of time and psychic energy fleeing such moments, protecting him: self from God. P~rsons sensing this dis-ease a, bout the'Jr relationship with God may read about God, talk al~out God, may do'the works of the Church and~ma~ even°hpproach G~d. in the company of othersobut they are often unable to bear facing God' in their aloneness, to be ~ilent before him. If such.is.the fate of n.ot a few apostolic religious in the past decade (and I believe it has b, een), then the task for them, again, becomes one of the struggle t9 av.oid, such moments. The apostolate, itself a contributory cause to this state of affairs, becomes a welcome and easily legitimized.distraction from facing oneself. Religious can throw themselves into their_work and give themselves over to be consumed by the apostqlic need which, as a matter of fact, is always ~,aiting there to be cared for. But this is not the zeal of those early y~ears of their ministry; it is, in fact, just the oppqsite. The work, what one does, is now.no longer ,a way of sharing what is inside, but a way of avoiding it. Instead of zeal andenthusiasm driving one from within to sha~e what.~e .has pers.onally experienced and discovered about'life and about God,,there is flightto the work for its own sake, a flight away from the i,nterior self. ~with diminishing personal energies and resources.tq ~driye and sustain himself, he becomes willingly carried along by the demands of the apostolat~e, .and~ lifebecomes one busy apostolic distraction. When ihat .happen,s, when,a person becomes emptied inside and can live .only on'the 32 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 outside, then he is:no longer engaged in the doing of ministry but.is simply busy about doing what I would call simply "church work." The irony of all this is that a person may be, and very frequently is at this same time in life, just h!tting his professional stride, doing the kinds of things that he always wanted to do in ministry,~with all the requisite pro-fessional training, and receiving very reassuring feedback from others about his ministry--and yet the.re seems to be something terribly missing, and he cannot understand why~ He may be doing very good work, pro-fessionally satisfying, assisting others in. living their lives and yet feel that he.is not doing a very good job of living his own. He might say to himself: "I should be happy but I am not. What is the matter with me?" As one person expressed it to me: "I am good and successful at what I am doing. ! enjPy it and find satisfaction in it--but why do I feel like I am dying?" The constant concerns and needs of others (and the constaht need to be focusing outside oneself), the very things .which used to energize and sus-tain the person in the early years of ministry, now only drain energies and makes the indiviidpal feel th~it his whole life', by choice"or by abdication, is being consumed by the apostolate. The apostolate has become for him a thousand-tentacled monster, constantly making demands, never letting up, constantly draining him of diminished or even exhausted personal energies. For the weary church worker the apostolate becomes a.two-edged sword: it is a welcome distraction protectin.g him from looking too closely within and, at the same time, a drain upon his personal energies even to the point of exhaustion. There is a variation to the above theme ~f the one who allows his life to become c~onsumed by the apostolate~ in order to avoid what may be dying inside, and this variation is marked by the opposite of involvement: with-drawal. For this person the apostolate becomes an eight-hour-a-day (or less)job and he is quite capable of walking away from it in order, as he sees it, to preserve his own necessary personal time and space; Having created sixteen hours of personal time and space of the twenty-four, however, the task he faces then becomes One Of filling up his space and time so that he will dot be left alone with it. In order to defend himself from se6ing the void within, the individual will do anything to fill up that time, to be distracted. He will read novels and magazines for hours (this may be his'version of "'being alone"). He may spend evening after evening watching television without really knowing or caring what is on the screen. He may arrange a heavy social schedule.'He will do anything rather than face the emptiness and discomfort that is within him. The weary church worker's life has become overwhelmed and frag-mented by the consuming demands of today's apostolate. He may be a victim of the work but. in the end; he knows that b,~ ,.'s a willing victim. He m'ay even see himself in the role of a martyr, giving his all that the world rr]ay be saved (or at least a little'more saved). But underneath the hectic and clu~ttered life of today's church worker, there is the danger of building up F¢om "Ministry" to "Church Work" /,33 increasing levels of resentment against those whom he serves. The de-mands never let up and nobody will leave hi~n alone. He may be tired. There may be a lot of suppressed anger and resentment. But worse than either of these, as long as he seems-to be good and successful in his work, is the fact that nobody seems to care about what is dying inside him and how he feels about himself and his ministry. The problem, in fact, is that no one can see what is dying inside him. All the outward signs appear to be good. The iridividual is busy, involved, committed to the apostolate, and actually doing good work there. He is sociable and affable in community, relating well there. No one can see what is happening inside him because no one is allowed to see it. The individual may have a difficult time even bringing himself tO see it and there may be too much shame and guilt to allow anyone else to see it. All the while the person may be saying: "they (superiors, fellow religious, fellow ministers) are themselves too busy ministering to others and I cannot burden them with my problems; I know what I~feel like when one more problem comes my way and I don't want to be just one more problem for' them." There is a final, cruel irony in the situation of the apostolic religious who, by the process described above, has been turned into a busy church WorkeL There is a rehewed interest and concern for spirituality and praye~ in the Church today--and that is w~lcomed. Religious are once more con-cerned about their relationship with God. But, as often a~ not, that concern is a source of guilt rather'than a source of strength. Concern for spirituality and prayer--whether the concern is assumed or imposed~--isjust one more ~lemhnd placed upon the life oLthe already tired religious. Instead of one's i'elationship with God being the source of personal energy and an impetus to ministry, it can become just one more thing to worry about along with.all the others~ one more thing with which the religious has neither the timenor the energy to contend. Instead of being the place of rest where he no longer has to be doing and Working, his prayer becomeg just one more thing to do and to work at. Instead of his relationship with God being the source and center of life, it is thrown in with all the other things which clamor for attention in a life which has lost its center. Apostolic religious communities in America today are running the risk of producing amongtheir members merely weary church workers suffering from battle fatigue. In the long run, however, there will be a price to pay in human suffering and tragedy, as suppressed anger and resentment can be suppressed no longer and begin to surface, Often in indirect but destructive ways. Religious will retire too Soon from the battle, burnt out men and women who will no longer be driven or taken advantage of. They will unclutter their lives of hectic apostolic activity and then turn and fill them up with other more relaxing distractions; but whether busy with apostolate or busy with relaxing distractions, many will be leading lives of quiet desperation because their lives no longer have any focus or center to hold them together. Review for Religious, Volunie°38, 1979/1 There are alternatives, I think, to the way we live apostolic religious life and the way we do ministrytoday. Just ~as~we do no good for a.materialistic society if we ourselves get caught up in its materialistic ethos, likewise we do little good for a society that runs at an insane pace, fragmenting the lives of its people when we ourselves run at; that.~same pace, becoming quite as fragmented in our own lives. A different style and pace of apostolic religious life need not mean that apostolic ministry be less involx;ed, less concerned, or less whole-hearted than it is now. .~ . ~.," Finding the meaning of one's life in one's relationship to God and sustaining that relationship personally through reflection and prayermmany indeed "take time away from others" but it may also allow us to offer them something more than what had been our busy, overburdened lives. G~'ound-ing our personal lives outside of the work we do may both'free us from the apostolate and, at the same time. free us for it. We will be freed from the apostolate not in the sense that we will lose the apostOlic dimension of our life in favor of the comtemplative life but rather in'!the sense that the meaning of our lives, as individuals and as communities, would no longer be tied to this specific apostolate and this particular work. "We would be freed from the works of our own hands to pursue and minister to the needs of people wherever and whatever they may.be, On .the other hand, it may well be that we would be doing the same kinds of. things ,that we are ,doing now,. but the person doing them will be different: still busy, but less frantic, and bringing to those situations a life which is a little calmer, a little more rootedand peaceful. Our apostolic ministry might be less cluttered but, at the same time, more deeply involved; we might be less frenzied, but also more zealous about the things we do. Finding the focus and center of one's life in God and taking time to tend to that dimension of life will give impetus and focus to our ministry. It will take :nothing away from it but will, instead, make ministry all the more importantmand all the more possible. "Promises to Keep"' A Homily for Final Vows J.Peter Schineller, S.J. Father Schineller, ~ member of the faculty of the Jesuit School of Theology in Chicago (JSTC), shared with those who witnessed his final vows in the Society of Jesus the't~houghts and movements that were his then. He resides at 5554 s. Woodlawn Ave.; Chicago, IL 60637. While'I was visiting "my brother and sister-in-law over the Christmas hblidays, as oftenhappens with a new toy, an argument arose betweeh their two children. The younger boy was unwilling to let his big sister play with his new eiectriC helicopter. The conversation went something like this: "It's my t6rn! You'have to let me play ffith~it."" "I don't want to and 1 don't have to." "You have to, and you know you have to." "I don't ~have to,' and I ~on't." "You have to, because you promised!" "Well, OK." My five year old nephew was trapped. He was caught by his promise, and he kne~ it. He knew in his child's wisdom that a prom~ise is something special, something sacred, and not just any old word. Promises make a difference.' "The child in me made promises more than 18 years ago, not about toys, but about how to spend my whole life*; promises not to ariother pers6n, but promises to God, tlie Father of all persons. And here I am this ~evening, to *The Jesuit's "first vows," taken at the end of the novitiate, include the perpetual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. (Editor)' 35 36 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 renew and to finalize those promises in my profession of "final vows," and to renew the promises with joy and enthusiasm. And so in these last few moments in which I am still a Jesuit scholastic, I would :like to share a few thoughts on 1) how I see these promises, 2) where the inspiration to make the promises comes from, and 3) how it is possible for anyone to make a profession of vows. First of all, what am I promising and vowing this evening? In one sense, it is nothing new, nothing beyond what I promised eighteen years ago, a life of poverty, chastity and obedience in the Society of Jesus. It is not a new turn, a grandiose new option, but rather a public statement of my choice tO continue on the road begun. Yet in another sense, it is a new choosing, because with eyes far more open than 18 years ago, I am saying, "This is the path for me, and I promise to take this path as long as I live." The promises I make tonight are promises that I can only make tonight, and could not have haade five, ten--or eighteen years ago. Much has been written about the meaning of the vowed life. i donit intend'to present a new theory, but let me say briefly how.I see what I am promising. In the vow of obedience, I am saying that I will not try to build ~a career for myself. Rather my life is a responding life in the Society of Jesus, a response to the call of God as seen in the needs of others. In chastity I am foregoing the joys, pleasures and anxieties of building a home and family and thus establishing family roots. My basic community will be the Jesuits I live, work, and move with. In this way I hope to be available for loving service, wherever the good news of God's love is called for. In poverty I am saying that I will look upon my time, talents, education as always God's gift to me, not for myself, but to be shared in the service of others. Finally, I promise to do all of this as a member of the Society of Jesus. That is much easier to grasp and to explain. For it means living, growing, working, enjoying life, and dying with many of the persons you see here. And it is quite a group: young and old, tall and short, from all over the United States, and even from around the world. What do w,e have in common? All of us are engaged in the serious convers.~ition and ctiallenges of Christian life and ministry, in the~.tradition of Ignatius and the many .great Jesuits of the past and present. We are trying-in many different ways to let the good news of the love of God break into this world. ~ Secondly, where do I get the urge or inspiration to make these vows and promises? If it comes simply from my own imagination, then I could make and break these promises without further ado. But years ago, in quiet and diverse ways, the idea crept into my head to be a Jestlit and a priest. The idea came fr.om reading books, from conversation; from the example of my family, parish priests, and from Jesuits who taught me, And so I responded. "Promises to Keep," A,Homily for Final Vows But it was a long time ago that the journey began. Today where do I get the inspiration to make this profession of final 'vows? It seems to me that the process is quite similar. You, so many here, and so many who couldn't be here, in your own ways, have kept ~the vision and ideal of being a Jesuit priest before my eyes. YOU have been sending me signals, challenging, pushing, leading m.e, ~and so I respond. You have been sending me signals,' as I read them, that indicate that what I am about is good, and is from God. Signals have come from the parish at Harvey, Where I help on Sundays, to friends and teachers at the University of Chicago; from Jesuits in New York to students I teach and learn with here at the Jesu.itSchool of Theology; from fellow faculty members, friends of Hyde Park, to those I live with at Jesuit House. And I have to rely on :these signals, signals which have given me hope, courage, and confidence .,that 1 am on the right path. There is one conviction that has grown over the years, that while the vows are finally from God and made to God, it is according to his plan and purpose that the desire and courage to take and renew the promises of vows always comes mediated through.human lives. I sensed today a new insight into, or application of the parable of the last judgment in Matthew 25. If I might dare paraphrase it, I would say, "what I prpmise or vow to you, the least ofGod's brothers and sisters, I am vowing to God himself." But thirdly, how it is ppssible to make and live such promises? Many would say that this way of life is inhuman, psychologically unhealthy, or even un-Christian. How can i be sure that this is truly the will of God for me? How can I avoid the danger of the vows, the danger of being un-loving, irresponsible, the danger of pride in thinking that I have chosen a "better w~y" than n0n-vowed life? How can I'choose or control the future, and say where I wish to be ten or thirty years from now? Am I not fighting against Christian freedom, the freedom of the Spirit? Finally, and most trouble-some, how can I promise to God what he alone can give true obedience, holy poverty, and perfect chastity? These virtues are his gifts, and so how dare I promise or vow them'before God? The answer to these difficulties and°dangers must be an answer in faith, hope, and loving trust. Let me explain: I used to think I could figure it out--and had figured it out. I had what I thought was an adequate view of God, a solid enough view.of myself and the meaning and possibiliti~es of human life. I thought that on the basis of this perspective I could pronounce and keep my vows. They made a lot of sense. Now I see it is ndt so easy. For I see that vowed life, in common with all life, is, to use Karl Rahner's phrase, "a surrender to the mystery and incomprehensibility of God." I can't give a complete and adequate rational account or grounding for vowed life, for myself or anyone else. But on the basis of expei'ience and prayerful reflection, I dare to say that this life is not only.possible, but it is God's will and graced way for me. Living the vows as I have been about and encoun- 311 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/'1 tering the mystery of God in and through them is. their only final justification. Th.ey have been, are, and I say tonight, will continue to be my way to meet God, to be myself, and to respond to the needs .of God's people., Just as the Jesuit-.style of life has shaped my daily existence, so, in a.mysteriou.s way, the vowed life has shaped and formed my faith-filled idea of God himself. The God, revealed to me through the vows is a God I can and must stand before in trust. He is the one. who gives joy, peace, fulfillment, and a sense of purpose and mission far deeper tha~ any that I could create or grasp on my own. Moving to the center of the mystery of the possibility of the vows, I dare to say in and through these vows that God, the incomprehensible one, is not distant, far-off, uninvolved, but rather he is somehow present and working as the one who makes possible these promises in the first place. I find I am almost forced to say that he, in his Holy Spirit, is making the vbws and promises in and through me. And go only on this basis.do I dare to promise what God alone can give as gift. For I am convinced that it is a response to his impulse and urge that pushes me to make this commitment. I began these reflections with the story of a child:s pr~mise at Christ-mastime. Let me conclude with a poet's words on promises. In the midst ofa busy Week in a snow filled winter in Chicago, a pocida of Robert'Frost is perhaps most appropriate, "Stopping by Woods on a Siaowy Evening." It is good that we are here together, pausing; ~stopping not by woo~is, but in the city i~f Chicago in Augustana Lutheran Church.Tlie poet, stopping with his horse and carriage explains, "The woods are lovely, d~rk and deelS." And ~peaking formyself, Isay, yes,the woods I have journeyed through over ,the past eighteen years have been lovely, dark and deep. The woods a~re lovely--exciting, encouraging, adventuresome and challenging years, with beautiful moments of joy and peace, so lovely that~ I gla.dly, freely continue down this path. The woods are dark--filled with the .unexpected, from a pre-Vatican II Church onward towards Vatican III, with the graced paradox of a Jesuit pronouncing his final vows in a Lutheran church. Final-ly, the woods are deep if nottiing else the years of th~ journey have been deep, far too deep for me to understand and explain all that led me here tonight,, and all that is involved in this celebration, far tro deep for me to adequa.tely thank all who have supported and e, ncouraged me. Yes, the woods have been deep--filled with the mysterious presence of God in one humari life. The,,woods I,have journeyed through have been lovely, dark and deep, and I am saying in effect tonight that I would not trade a~0ay this way of, life through the woods for any other way. I say this joyfully, and as strongly as I can. But we can't stop here and pause here too long in-snow filled Chicago. For as the poet reminds us,'and as his poem concludes: "Promises to Keep," A Homily for Final Vows / 39 The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep. May God who is Father, Son and Spirit continue to strengthen and guide each one of us on our journeys in the miles ahead. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," H. F. Smith, S.J . 30 "An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice," M. Oliva, S.J . 50 "CelibateGerhtality," W. F. Kraft . 50 "Celibacy and Contemplatio~n,'~ D. Dennehy, S.J . 30 "Colloquy of God with a Soul that Truly Seeks Him" . 3.0. "Consciousness Exhmen," G: A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. . ~.50 "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father," G. A. Asch~ffbrenner, S.J . 50 "Institutional Business Administration & Religious," Flanagan and O'Connor . 30 "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation;' S.C. for Rel!gious . ~ . .~. . 35 "Prayer-of Personal Reminiscence," D. J,' Hassel, S.J .6.0. '~Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of .Disdernment of Spirits," J. R. Sheets, S.J. ' . 50 "Psychosexual Maturity in CelibateDevelopment," P. Cristatitiello . . . ~ . 60 "Retirement or Vigil," B. Ashley, O,P. .~.3.0 "The 'Active-Contemplative' Problem," D. M. Knight .7.5. "The Contemporary Spirituality of ihe Monastic Lectio," M, Neuman, O.S.B: . ~. . 50 "The Four Momeiats of Prayer," J. R. Sheets, S.J .5.0. "The Healing of Memories," F. Martin . . . 35 "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," H. F. Smith,oS.J . :.° . .35 Orders for the' above should be sent to: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St~ Louis, MO 63108 Destructive Passivity Spiritual Direction in Judith Roemer Sister Judith is a member of the staff of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; Church Road; Wernersville, PA 19565. ecently, I have become aware of the work of Aar.on a.nd Jacqui Schiff on psychological aspects of passivity (T. A. Journal, 1:1, January, 1971). As I read some of their findings, I began to see applications to the situation of spiritual direction. I began to realize how important it is for directors to be more alert in detecting patterns of destructive passivity in their directees. I came to recognize how important it is not to foster such patterns. It.seems to me, then, that noting and examining the categories of these psychologists regarding negative passivity can be highly productive in improving the process of spiritual direction. ~ "Passivity" has long been esteemed in the spiritual life. For that reason, it seems necessary to distinguish clearly from the start precisely what is the subject of this paper. There definitely is a time for activity, and a time for passivity. What seems essential is that passivity, as a way of responding, be carefully chosen. When, after looking at a situation and being in touch with my faith, my intelligence, and my affectivity, I decide to do nothing, I have made good use of passivity. This paper is not about those freely-chosen, well-thought-'out, peacefully and joyfully chosen situations. On the con-trary, this paper is concerned .with a form of passivity which inhibits adult responsibility and substitutes an unproductive way of acting for a decision. Previously I had thought of passivity in terms of "'dging nothing," However, the unproductive types of passivity wear many masks. Along 40 Destructive Passivity in Spirit.ual Direction / lll with "doing. nothing," passivity can take the form of "over-adaptation," "agitation," "incapacitation," and "violence." Each form in turn has many other forms as the category is expanded. In writing about the situation of spiritual~direction, my assumption is that, for the most part, I am dealing with normal, productive adults. Hen~e~ without pushing Schiffs' original categories of abnormal behavior beyond their intent, I suggest that the destructive areas of passive behavior noted by them do have potential tendencies that are also to be~found ~n the situation of directing healthy adults. Both director and directee carl profit by being aware of them. Secondly, I want to show that the Spiritual Exer-cises of St. Ignatius contain some useful tactics for cou.nteracting destruc-. tive passivity. Using these tactics can be the occasion for providing quality decisions for the furtherance of the Kingdom. Doing Nothing In religious circles we often smile knowingly at the self-made martyr; we chide one another with the standard phrase, "Offer it up." We are indignant at the priest and levite who preceded the Good Samaritan and passed by the wounded stranger because it wasn't their business. We scoff at Cain as iii~ asks about being his brother's keeper. All of these are simply good exam-ples of the first category of destructive passivity, of doing nothing. Not quite so obvious is the example of a person who gathers data ad infinitum; waiting endlessly for the perfect insight, the perfect moment, before con-cretizing his dream in decision. Close to him is the example of the person who is caught in speculation to the point of paralysis. His personal intui-tions convolute beyond time and talent, becoming a threatening burden rather than a beaconing light. Substituting one a~tivity for another, washing the car instead of writing the checks, is yet another form of "doing nothing." A quite obvious form is plain indecisiveness. Not quite so easy to detect would be falling into a certain disproportionate balance of activity and passivity in prayer. One of the greatest struggles in prayer is knowing when to let go of activity in order to be quiet. As a person moves from a meditative stance to a contemplative stance, he is faced with the decision to choose or to resist passivity. Instinctively he would tend to resist whatever would challenge his depen-dence on word, fantasy, clarity or concept. In prayer, though, a person at some time is faced with the necessity of choosing the darkness of faith in place of his familiar dependency on thoughts and feelings. In the Exercises of St. Ignatius, the First Principle and Foundation (23) gives a clear direction against ~'doiflg nothingi': "The other things., are created for man to help him . Hence he ought to make use of them insofar as they help., and to rid himself of them insofar as they prove a hindrance." Later, in the Kingdom (91-98) the id quod volo (grace desired) is indicat- 49 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 ed in the petition to be "prompt and diligent., not to be deaf." Further on, the Three Classes of Men (149-155) portray sets of persons in the midst of decisions. At one extreme is the destructively passive man, who, filled with hopes, dreams, doubts, and attachments, comes to the end of~ his life uncommitted, not having "made use of any means." At the other end is the man of the ThirdClass who has developed a sense of freedom, a willingness to work with many options "to be better able to serve God our Lord." Many,, times people are unaware that there is any way out of their unproductive passivity, and thus see "doing nothing" as a way of survival. But this neednot be the case. A director who insists on careful discernment encourages his directee to find and develop many alternatives, thus lessen-ing the need for anyone to be locked into a single unproductive mode of ¯ acting. Over-adaptation A second, kind of passivity is over-adaptation; taking another's goal as one's own. Unlike the former category of "doing nothing," this one of over-adaptation appears to be busy and productive. Yet the exaggerated dependency role continues to operate and the results are destructive. Fear and "peace at any price" are common manifestations of over-adaptation in religious life. Yet it is often close to ordinary adaptation, which is a necessary~part of human existence. Hence over:gdaptation is difficult~to spot externally. However, careful listening to a directee can give a director many hints of how the directee is going to excessive pains not to cause trouble, to be nice, to be cooperative. Unfortunately it is not uncommon to hear of difficult or even impossible situations in which a person chooses to "sit" on his thoughts and feelings, to "adapt" rather than confront another person or a structure. The pain is often "offered up," and the unhealthy situation persists lest the individual be considered unmortified, or narrow-minded. Fear, too, can be used to mask over-adaptation. Especially among reli-gious women, being timid sometimes has an air of virtue about it. The timid woman wants to be rescued, preferably by a male spiritual director who will protect, reassure, and comfort her without suggesting that she move out of her unproductivity :and decide, with his help, what she is to do about it. Rather insidiously, this kind ofpassivity can be a mask for a deeper kind of aggression. It is difficult to challenge someone who is "trying so hard" to cooperate. Consciously or unconsciously, it doesn't take too long for the over-adapter to learn how much control can be gained in such a situation. Unfortunately, this kind of over-adaptation is often canonized as "docility." ,. Ironically, gaining control through over-adaptation often proves frus-trating. In the effort to mold, regulate and maintain the climate of safety created by over-adaptation, the directee often cannot hear the voice of the Destructive Passivity in Spiritua[ Direction Spirit. This kind of person has set up an atmosphere in which he does not have to give up his security. In clinging to safety he has substantially cut himself off from the world of inspiration and challenge. Directors often see this in directees who cannot believe that God could possibly be leading them beyond their self-made rules, beyond their self-made security and safety. Directees see this in directors who speak only of asceticism, never of mysticism, who prefer devotions and practices instead of fidelity to the Spirit. In some way those who claim they have no time for prayer as well as those who claim they cannot be involved with their neighbors both have fallen heir to passivity,in the form of over-adaptation. The former have let the rat race rather than their own head, heart and faith decide their destiny. The latter have refused to be molded by the poverty, particularity, and concreteness of the Incarnation.' Lastly, in our day, we often fail victim to concern for public relations. Our assumptions about what the bishop will think, what the lay teachers will think, what our community will think, what the Protestants Will think, what the children will think, and so on, endlessly, often decide the course of important events ?Further, they are used as a justification and motivation for over-adapting, for decisions which are unworthy of our faith experi-ence. Over-adaptation is an excellent example of how the "angel of darkness" comes disguised as an "angel of light" (Ex 332). We are all familiar with the monsters that have arisen in the guise of virtue under such "headings as availability, community, poverty, or blind obedience. Burning the candle at both ends, :navel gazing, stinginess, and the ill-use of human talents are all destructive~and.unworthy of the Kingdom. Those who have suffered these delusions might well look less to over-adaptation and more to considered responsiveness in their future decision-making. The Exercises are intended to be a celebration of one's gift of spiritual freedom. Key to that~disposition is ~ spirit of indifference. 1 can use things when I need them and put them aside when they hinder'rme. I canchoose the one or the other, not being unduly influenced by position, location or advancement. Such a stance demands a sense of presence: pres~ence to myself ag I accept the wonder and agony of who I am; and presence'to God as I accept the reality of Someone beyond'me who loves me, At the peak~ of the Ignatian ,experience, the exercitant becomes a cor~templative-in-action. Again and again, each one of the exercises faces him with the question: "What do I want?" He is asked to identify his desire and pray for what he needs. He is asked to face the reality of what he can do, what he needs to ask for, what he plans to do about it all. As though this were not enough, he is asked to order his de~i~es, prioritize his Iongings, lest he assume the posture of the man of the Secon~l Class (Ex 154), thus leaving himself open 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 to compromise and mediocrity, It is comforting to note that over-adaptation is often the easiest of the unproductive passivities to remedy. Most people who are negatively pas-sive have done a lot 0fthinking :to arrive at such a position. They are equally capable of assimilating new. information, though. For this reason, it would be a good thing for a director to confront such negative passivity directly. Thinking seriously about developing more positive options, a director and directee can develop new alternatives that lead to more creative results. Agitation The third category of unproductive passivity is agitation, the repetition of actions that have no meaning in terms of what the individual is seeking. In prayer this often shows itself in the kind of spiritual gluttony that ex-cludes the invitation to the darkness of faith. Most of us who pray consistently catch ourselves at times trying too hard, attempting to "program" a religious experience by learning the new-est techniques, and then clinging to the resultant experience as though it were God. Once an individual has fallen into this, it ultimately comes to him asa surprise to find that faith is~dark. His experience with this darkness then arouses anger, possessiveness, the demand that God come to him on his terms. His first experience with this reality often brings about more agita-tion in the form of worry, fretting, the gloomy exaggeration of his situation out of all proportion to its reality. Many persons tend to drop prayer at this point; "Nothing is happening," they say. Or they become over, involved in new techniques, in more interesting works, or in other people, rather than take the effort to learn to live comfortably with dark faith. Since religious people tend to be idealistic, they tend to strive for goals so high that the gap between the real self and the ideal self creates depres-sion rather than energy. Here is where good direction offers an opportunity for balance. Directors should be on the alert for extremes. Wild imaginings in time of prayer, quickly changing moods of sadness, exuberance, fear, or zeal need testing. It seems unlikely that experiences of being "bugged by God" about small ~hings or "being made to suffer" by God hold up in the pro.cess of good discernment. It is more likely that persons have allowed themselves the "luxury" of agitation as a replacement for the decision to accept fully the implication's of their call. Such a decision, lived, is sobering. Life with God becomes quiet, gentle, strong, and often hidden. One must be willing to give up the excitement of flurry, th.e pride of being a "martyr to the cause," the prestigiousness of extraordinary phenomena. The con-crete decision i.s amazingly simple, poor, and hidden, just as it was when the Word was made Flesh. St. Ignatius has many suggestions for coun~teracting agitation. In the Rules for Discernment for the First W~eek (313-327) he describes the behav-ior that is characteristic of those facing their own sinfulness. He warns Destructive Passivity in Spiritual Direction against secrecy, sadness, false reasoning, restiessness, frames of mind that lead to lack of faith, hope, and love. In the Second Week's Rules for Discernment (328-336) he describes the experience of agitation as "'violent, noisy, and disturbing." These, he counsels, are from the evil one. Again, [the course of thoughts suggested to us] may end in what weakens the soul, or disquiets it; or by destroying the peace, tranquility, and quiet which it had before, it may cause disturbance to the soul. These things are a clear sign that the thoughts are proceeding from the evil spirit, the enemy of our progress and eternal salvation ~333). Unfortunately, many enjoy their agitation. Not only does it substitute for their having to make a decision, but they can often find convincing reasons to suggest why it is actually accomplishing something. However, this would be a dangerous area to cultivate.Little that is long-lasting for the K~ngdom is accomplished through such agitation. Further, the'anxiety that I am arousing can move me into the more destructive aspects of passivity: incapacitation or violence. For the director, little or nothing is accom-plished by cooperating with the agitation ofhis directee. In fact, trying to dialog logically with a person in this state often brings the directee more deeply into a dependency role, delaying a good decision. In these cases an effort should be made by both director and directee to calm the agitation, moving it back to an over-adaptive situation where, temporarily at least, the director can give calm instructions that will provide a better atmosphere for the directee to think of alternatives and decide on more productive options. Incapacitation A more entrenched kind of passivity is the fourth type: incapacitation. 'One of the most common manifestations of freezing or incapacitation tn spirituality is stubbornness, an unwillingness to move one step further until I fully understand where I am going. This kind of stubbornness commonly occurs during the transition from meditation to contemplation. "I don't know what is going to happen, and I will not let go until I do," The result is that I stay where I am, often giving up mental prayer as a result. Hand-maid to stubbornness is scruple, a fear of doing something good lest I be wrong or at least somewhat ill-motivated, Much good can be left undone while a person worries about whether or not he is proud, vain, or ambitious, The Exercises answer this frame of mind. lfl such cases one should raise his mind to his Creator and Lord, and if he sees what fie is about to do is in keeping with God's service~, or at least not opposed to it, he should act directly against the temptation. According to St. Bernard, we must answer the tempter, "" I did not undertake this because of you, and I a.m not going to relinquish it~because of you" (351). Refusing to let go of an emotion, pleasant or agonizing, is another form of incapacitation. "'I can only pray provided it is a high experience." ""Io have grown comfortable with my anger (resentment, low self-image) and 46 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/1 the atmosphere I create helps me feel secure. I control my environment." Unfortunately, the situation backfires and shields the individual from life, i~ssenin'g the likelihood of his loving or suffering, rejoicing or crying with the rhythms of the real world. Having entrenched himself in his low self-image, he begins to project distorting 'images on God. God becomes the Great Controller, the Life-Taker, the Divine Exactor, rather than the Evoker of Freedom and the Loving Father. Lastly, incapacitation demon-strates itself as an unwillingness, an inability to look at one's blind spots. Fear of losing the security of his images often prevents the individual from being called beyond his own devices to the darkness of faith by the whispers of the Spirit. The Ex~rcises face incapacitation firmly by asking the individual to seek for the gift of knowing that he is deeply loved and ~knowing that he is at the same time sinful. Coupled with that grace is his growing realization of who he i~the wonder and the agonywthat leads him to grow comfortable and free with his own reality. In the protection of this new freedom the person does not.have to struggle for survival. He has experienced love. He knows that he is "precious in his sight" (Is 43:4). The Exercises would stir him out of his inactivity, bidding him to look at his secret stubbornnesses as a "false lover" who readily leaves as soon as he is discovered (326). In #325, I am admonished to face the temptation boldly so that it can be put to flight. My willingness to renounce my incapacitation reaches a high .moment when I honest|y put myse|f before Christ on the Cross "as one friend speaks to another" and hear myself own the answers to the triple question, " What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I to do for Christ?" (53). Paradoxically, the most extreme kind of passivity is violence. In it I give up my responsibility for thinking and loving to vent my energy on destruc-tion. Among religious people the violence is often inward: psychosomatic illness, masturbation, guilt, tortured imaginings. These are a poor substitute for the ecstacy to which I am called. The individual prefers the certainty of destruction to the uncertainty of wonder. Even worse, ,he can cloak the mess he has created in a false rationalization of the Third Degree of Humil-ity (Ex 167),thinking that these passivities are his way of bearing poverty, humiliation, and scorn with Christ. Eventually the fruits of distress and frustration, both in himself and in those who have to live with him, will hopefully bring him to his senses. The fruits of true Christian suffering and a true participation in Christ's life always bring forth peace and joy in the depths of the spirit. Violence can also be outwardly directed. We religious may not throw a chair through a window, but we do impose verbal burdens

Issue 36.3 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edtted by faculty members of St Lores University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May 1977 Volume 36 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGZOUS; P.O. Box 6070~ Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW I~OR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Nomadic Love Rita Bernard Walton, S.S,J. Sister Rita Bernard resides at the Corpus Christi Convent; Sumneytown Pike and Supplee Rd.; Lansdale, PA 19446. :: Fpr centuries men have responded to a voice, a formless, faceless, nameless voice, a voice that pierced the inner depths like a fiery sword saying: "Come and see" (see Jn 1:35-51). To come and see is to come into Jesus, and to respond to the call is only to hear it repeated over, again and again, to _come deeper into Jesus. It means a lifetime of coming and a lifetime of seeing as one .surprise of.love follows another:in living in Jesus. The heart hears the silent language of Jesus' love that calls for acceptance. 'The acceptance of his love entails ac-cepting all the Lover is and~ all he gives. He gives himself in sacrament, in word,, in life. He reveals himself slowly with each love-touch and fills the soul with wonder at the awesome burden with which he impregnates it. ~In this prayer of love one is. urged to stand firm, to persevere in the gift of.,love in the sense that St. Paul urged the Thessalonians to stand firm: ,"Stand firm, then, brothers, and keep the traditions that we taught y0,u, whether by word of mouth or by letter" (2 Th 2: 15). "Standing firm" is a recognition of having been chosen, loved, formed and hollowed. It is a 'recognition of one's emptiness and fullness in Christ Jesus. To "stand firm" is to accept further the responsibility to love and be loved;~to be known and to,know the God who is. "Standing firm" is to be used, used as a reed on which he plays his tune. ~ Coming deep into this love with Jesus re~uires a lea.ring behind of all ~hat ,is self and, in some way, living within the heart the life of a nomad by abandoning oneself to the purpose~ of the Lord in an emptiness of spirit-- being a nomad without a desert other than the desert of life itself. This nomad 337 338 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 life whets the appetite for the fullness of the kingdom, a life fully embraced. The nomad life is a living in joy, a living wholly in the now. This great love renders one powerless and defenseless and 'one. feels the pain of the rendering. Such powerlessness allows God to be G6d, bring-ing to the lips a prayer for an increase of faith which enkindles hope and which builds further the great fire of love. In this love-prayer, the~desire to pray and prayer itself are planted in the heart of one's being by the God of ¯ love. As the desire is nurtured, the heart of one's being grows and ~.the cycle of life in prayer develops. It is recognized as the Lord's gift. This writer invites the reader at this point to place himself or herself in the sandals of the nomad and let the following speak directl3)' td you. Come and see, Nomad. The nomad carries little. The nomadic lover carries little, too, for this lover must pass through love's gate as through the eye of the needle, free of encumbrances and the excess baggage of self-love. As nomadic lover you go through the doorway of Jesus as yourself~ as a real person. You go with Jesus' to go through Jesus into Jesus more deeply,, realizing so de.eply that Jesus is in you filling you with so much love. Loving is what living is all about. Living the love of Jesus is allowing the fruit of hislove to be'~plucked while it is ripe and rich. Following Jesus in nomadic love leads you to a still point. A still .point is a further death to self. Freed of the baggage and clutter of ~elf-will, hands are emptied to embrace the Will of the Father, the Cross of-Jesus, the Gifts of the Spirit. This still point is an intense grace of being~known, and being filled with an unknown kind of knowing God in his Oneness and Trinity of Persons. Reaching, or being brought to this still point of love is like passing through the turmoil of a storm and no longer being in .the path of its destruction, but aware of it and aware of being held at the center of calm only by his grace. It is an experience of an overwhelming sense .of quiet joy where your being sings an endless, wordless song of silent praise. Nomadic love extends you and develops all the facets of yourself, and then it changes you. You become a new self with all the old facets"refined. 'You come to a point where you hardly know yourself, and yet you do, more deeply than you did before. If the Beloved allows you to see yours.df"vfith his eyes you see a sight of beauty, surprising beauty. What you see is so grace-laden and love-filled that your heart responds again in silen(, ioyful song to the love and the Lover who has made you this way. You know that all this grace and beauty are his gift to your creature-self. It is yours to 'rejoic( in, to use and to give away~ When you return to your owns, seeing, you find you are the same, but not the same. You have been held b~y Love unaware of space and time and you somehow know that you hold a inystery~ and are held by Mystery. The nomadic lover has thus rested in th~ sweet oasis of love. ' Soon, however, the nomad is stirred from the oasis-rest .by th~ silent Nomadic Love / 339 voice the heart has come to know. "Rise, cla~p my hand, and come!" ("The Hound of Heaven," by Francis Thompson). "Yes" becomes the word on your lips and the journey continues. Now the desert stretches dry ahead and its night settles in like a winter season. The fruit and the comfort and rest of an oasis are not in sight, but the memory of them warms your heart. All is silent within and without, and the nomad must stand firm in the silence as would a silent sentinal. The treasure of love must be guarded within the heart. As nomadic lover in the desert night you know, you be-lieve~ you trust in the touchless Lover who is with you, who encircles you with his love. A nomadic lover prays: I cannot walk, my Love, I cannot walk alone. I must be led, or carried. I cannot trust myself, my own sense of direction. I must let myself be lost as it were, with no map or seeable route on this journey in faith and trust and love with You. My Love, I depend solely on You and Your guidance with no desire other than the desire to be Yours. You p!ace in shadow all that has been familiar during this journey with You. The oasi~ of Your gifts and consolaiions is lost ¯ in the darkness of this desert night in order to test my love for You alone. My~ Love, I ask for the grace of receptivity. Open me to the greatness of desiring You . for Yourself alone. ".Rise, clasp my hand, and come!" ("The Hound of Heaven"). So, once again Nomad, you hear yourself asked to "come and see" mindful you are nomad by invitation; that the journey is a gift and that you do not "stir love until its appo~inted time" (Song of Songs 2:7). Grassroots Sisters Today: Calvary People? Anawim? Marie Emmanuel, S.C. Sister Marie Emmanuel, though retired otficially, icontinues to exercise an extensive apostolate through her writings. She resides at Mount St. Joseph, OH 4505.1. No writer can speak from her heart unless wha( she says is consciously directed to a well-defined group of readers. Even a g!ance at the topic sentences of the following paragraphs, for example, would indicate that this article would "turn off" religious caught up in the urgencies' of seeking self-fulfillment, of 'being recognized as a person, of securing independence, and of embracing a life-style which has much more in common with that of a career girl or married woman than with that of the traditional religious of ten or fifteen years ago. And these same pages would probably read like something from outer space to the few fortunate religious in whose com-munities wholesome, holy religious life has somehow managed to survive experimentation. The vast majority of American sisters, however, belong to neither of these groups. They are the typical religious of our decade the thoiasands who look with aching hearts on what mistaken attempts at renewal (a renewal too often not rooted in a primary interest in the things of God!) have done and are doing to their corrimunities, and to religious life itself as they can see it. Their cause is seldom taken up by the religious press or cham-pioned by speakers; yet they are the ones who are holding the line for Christ. They know what their Lord was asking of them when he called them to their community--and they know what they gave. him on their vow day. Integrity permits them to dilute neither his divine requests nor their giving. These are the religious who must be assured that their questioning is being heard, that their Calvary is understood, and that, if they have but faith, their fears for religious life itself will be quieted by the same dear 340 Grassroots Sisters Today:~ Calvary People? Anawim? / 341 Christ who answered the frightened apostles in the tempest-tossed boat on Galilee: "O ye of little faith, why do you doubt?" Not even the hardiest can deny, of course, that hurricanes have been buffeting religious life for a decade or more, and that unprecedented winds and waves have sadly battered the bark of those who follow the evangelical counsels. There is no question here of the exaggerated fears of timid souls. Too many facts corroborate 'the ~threats, too many experiences bolster appre-hension. All one need do to be convincedis read, watch and listen. " See whathas happened in our day to the observance of poverty and obedience! And often not even chastity survives at least not envisioned as an espousal relationship with Christ, a concept which, iust a short time ago, was. generally accepted as basic to the vow. Silence no more has a place in most Interim Directives; prayer has become largely a completely personal matter, with sometimes not even the offi~ze or rosary said in com-mon; and the whole concept of community living is under attack. One does not have to be a seer to be aware that in some congregations goals, aposto- ,lares, and life-style have been so revolutionized that even the most recent of founders would be hard put to recognize their own! Administrators of certain large American communities, for example, seeing membership plummeting and the median age rapidly rising, have °already experimented with the idea of extending membership to anyone who wishes to live with the sisters, "regardless of sex, religious affiliation or marital status." In some religious houses such~ extended membership is already an accepted fact. At a meeting of formation personnel late in 1975, one young director told her audience (and was immediately quoted in metro-politan and diocesan newspapers) that her community had "already opened its doors to such .applicants, among them a married woman, a divorcee, and a woman whose husband is in Europe." These people, she assured her hearers, "share the life and home of the sisters and are regarded as mem-bers, not as guests; employees or volunteers." In order to supplement recruitment, other congregations have accepted girls who came with the avowed intention of staying just for a year or two, although canon law has stipulated that candidates may not enter on a temporary basis, that they must have the iiatention of remaining or at least the hope of determining their permanent vocation by honest trial. We hear,. too, of young religious who, though they may have entered with the inten-tion of remaining, are now reluctant to maki~ any permanent commitment and are being permitted to stay on indefinitely, despite canonical strictures, merely making temporary "promises" over and over. Yet though membership is being supplemented in such unorthodox ways, genuine religious vocations in America have dwindled to almost nothing. Vineyards entrusted to us by the Church are abandoned for works of our own choosing; conx;ents stand empty in the midst of fields white for the harvest, and the tragic exodus of professed sisters "back to the world" con- 342 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 tinues, though God knows that some motherhouses have few, except the aged, left. A further tragedy lies in the fact that those who remain tend to fall into groups so diverse in their reactions to experimentation that the attainment of consensus in basic areas becomes impossible. There are the sisters of all persuasions, liberal and conservative, who are content with the status quo as they meet it; there are the crusader.s, dissatisfied with the ."inadequacy" of experimentation as they see ,it initiated, and dedicated to revamping re-ligious life now to conform to what they consider relevant to today's world. And then there is the army of ordinary sisters down at the grassroots who have suffered shock after shock as they were subjected to innovations (allegedly designed to make them more relevant, more self-fulfilled, and more libera.ted, but which have a~:tually proven incompatible with their ideals of religious life) who are now openly seeking answers to the disturb-ing questions which haunt them. "What is going to become of religious life?" they ask in desperation akin to that of the apostles, when their small boat was. storm-tossed that night on Galilee. "Will,it someday be impossible in my community to live the life I v6wed? What will be left of religious life when all this experimen-tation is officially ended?" Before sisters consider the future of their own communities in the light of such questi0.ns, it is logical that a prognosis for religious~ life itself be attempted. Is it dying? Is it still relevant? A number of current books study the topic from various points of view, but the Vatican II Fathers .have already settled all doubts in ~this regard bY the place in the modern Church which they assigned to religious. A dying group would scarcely be commissioned, as religious were in the Constitution on the Church, to ,"stren.gthen the kingdom in soul~, and extend it to every clime." And who is relevant to our confused, anguished world if not those to whom the council, in the same document, entrusted the needy of that world? "Religious should carefully consider that through them, to believers and unbelievers alike, (he Church wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ," decreed the Council Fathers. "Through them, Christ should be seen contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multitude, healing the sick and maimed,, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent them." There is not one .sufferer among all those who throng our streets, or whose stories are blazoned in, the daily press or pictured on TV, who does not fit into one of the categories listed by the Council as being charges of today's religious. There is no human need, spiritual or temporal, which has not been confided to our charity in our own time by Holy Mother Church herself. Therein lies our blueprint of relevance. Father Thomas iDubay, contemporary writer on living the evangelical Grassroots Sisters Today." Calvary People? Anawim? / 343 counsels, states: "The religious life belongs inseparably to the Church's life and holiness . Periodically, in the history of the Church, someone is likely to prophesy the death of religious-life. Our day is no exception. Yet so closely bound up with evangelical perfection are consecrated virginity, voluntary poverty and ecclesial obedience, that to predict the disappearance of religious life is to assert the irrelevance of the gospel. The profession of the evangelical counsels may decline, through human weaknesses, but dis-appear it willnot.''~ Yet, notwithstanding such assurances, sisters confide that try as they will to tell themsel~,es that all will be right, they cannot shut their eyes~to what is happening in many communities. "Is it unreasonable," they ask, "to wonder how I can trust, when I know how convent walls have tumbled down since the '60's, destroyed not by enemies of the Church but by con-secrated women who are .apparently casting aside the very.essentials of religious life so as to grasp the best of two vocations without assuming the responsibilities of either? How can I"even hope that I will always be a nun, when I see congregations once flourishing and fervent actually falling apart or so revolutionized as to be unrecognizable?" Of course, there are no pat answers, as there are no pat answers for other questions'which vex us today. But Peter and his companions were expert sailors, and they had seen other vessels go down in squalls on Galilee like the one they were battling. Yet Christ rebuked them that night for their lack of faith when they were apprehensive. He did not tell them how to ride out the storm, he gave them no practical directives. But he did reassure them. "Fear not!" he said. And he did calm the winds and the buffeting waves, and bring his friends Safe to.shore. Suppbse their boat had sunk in the storm. Can we doubt that our Lord would have saved his 6wn; so that they still might, become the Spirit-driven anawim who were to establish his Church? That should tell us something! And there are many other gospel stories.~which'can set our troubled hearts at rest. This is a goodtime to remember~Bethany, for example; we who are frightened by what the future may hold have Christ's own word that our "best part"-~will never be taken away from us. In,another passage he gives us his solemn assurance that he will be with us always, and that whatever we ask in.prayer will be given us;, even to" feats like moving mountains! He reminds us that we did not choose him; it was he who called us. Dare we insinuate that-he was trifling with our hearts in making that invitation on our vow day? No, the circmfistances surrounding our aposto-lates may indeed be drastically altered, but our consecration to Christ no one no one--can take from us! Right now many mature religious stand onCalvary. We try to assure ourselves, perhaps, that faith and hope demi~nd that we look forward to a 1Ecclesial Women, by Thomas Dubay, 'S.M. (New York: Alba House, 1970). 344 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 glorious Easter, when resurrection joy and peace will fill our hearts again. That Easter will come. But ~hould we begin to face the possibility that we, personally, may never see its glad dawning? Maybe our little boat won't survive this. tempest! What if our community becomes so debilitated or so revolutionized that it no longer is our.community? Do we love Christ so much that we can offer ourselves, in that event, to become his anawim, the remnant beloved by God, who will somehow continue to carry on his work in and for a world which hungers for him while it rejects him? That may well be what he is asking of us now. If this should happen and we find our 'institutes rapidly losing all re-semblance to the dream of evangelical perfection which God gave our founders and to which he called us, we can find comfort, first of all, in knowing that religious life, itself will never die. That is where faith and hope lead us today. Isn't that, perhaps, where they leave many of.us, too? Let's admit it: we, at least we sisters in America, may well be Calvary-people all our lives. But .wasn't that what our Lord was? The shadow of the Cross touched everything he looked on, and Easter came only after the final agony of the crucifixion. "Fear not.t" Our Lord is saying to us. Even though this congregation or that is shaken, religious life will always flower somewhere in the Church, and no sister will ever be dispensed ]rom perpetual vows unles~ she herselI .has chosen, in some way, to cancel her commitment to the God who loves her with an everlasting love. 'We must remember that when things look black, when maybe even our own beloved community may seem'to be racing toward disaster.~, We must hang onto the fact, too, that "retreat masters and others in a position to see and judge are finding rainbows arcing over motherhouses here and there, where experimentation has not only. been lived through but is reaping a golden harvest of renewal. True, such blessed communities doubtless still have their respective cordons of dissidents unhappy because changes haven't been radical enough, but interested now in the ordination of women, in 'political jobs~ or~ in being, vocal on controversial theological questions. Their current involvement in topics beyond the jurisdiction of their communities leaves the body of the, membership free to yield. ;to the Spirit, and to concentrate on intensive, broadly-varying spiritual programs, which one priest-director tells me are proving "an astonishing purification, a genuine spiritual renewal, and a happy return to the ideals of the foun-ders" of several communities with whom he is in contact. How heartened many grassroots sisters should be by rumors of such rainbows, which indicate that for some religious at least, the storm is over for the time and the Paschal Sun is shining! There are communities, too, which have never lost their balance, but which, despite growing pressures, have managed to adhere t,o their self-definition and to maintain the life of the counsels as their founders would Grassroots Sisters Today: Calvary People? Anawim? / 345 have it lived at present. They are the ones (believe it or not!) who are be-ing sought out by young women who want just what these communities will give them. The same retreat master I quoted before confided that one such community with which he works "is swimming with postulants and novices, bright and lively young things who enter precisely because of the habit; who are genuinely (if youthfully) in earnest about learning the spirit of their congregation and (and through) the spirit of their founder." So even if, in our corner of the world, the eclipse still leaves us groping in dark and cold, we can rejoice that somewhere the sun is shining again on happy, holy novitiates and on burgeoning religious life. We can rejoice, too, that our way of-life is a good way; despite the odds against us, we do contribute to the holiness of the Church! And it is a relevant way. Millions of people contact God today because sisters still live and work among them. So if our particular corner of the vineyard is languishing, we must simply put our hand into the hand of Christ and trust him to use us as he will. Through an ordeal.like this, our consciences should reassureus that we are not disloyal because we can foresee local debacles resulting from ill-ad-vised changes in the very basics of~religious life. As mature religious we can-not help but be aware that congregations which cut themselves free from their moorings an the Church and dispose of authority, vows, silence, community prayer and the common life with fine, dispatch, are no longer offering their members the type of life the.y vowed to follow: There is no disloyalty here. No, it is love for the life to which Christ calls us that prompts us to challenge attemis°ts at renewal which have gotten out of hand. The pro~ing questions one hears now on all 'sides should alert the powers that be to the fact that definitely all is not well. Before it is too late, those influential in community affairs throughout the country should take inventory to see wfiether religious, life, as they are manipulating it, can flourish and bear the fruit God expects. Only a prayerful, serious evaluation by those supposedly in authority can dete~rmine for any congregation whether experimentation is sanctifying its members or secularizing them, meeting the needs of their assigned apostolates or merely working toward human goals or personal self-fulfillment. That some groups will not see the necessity for such reconsideration is a sad commentary on the problem. It is good, therefore, that individual sigters are not closing their eyes to what is being done, that we at last are asking serious qui~stions and seeking honest answers. We are not discountenancing faith and hope when we admit that we think it possible that our partiqular vineyards may someday lie in ruins. Rather, our faith and hope could never be fairer .than when we watch our dear garden-places transformed into alien desert and yet hold fast to Christ, confidefit of his love, ready to take up our interrupted apos-tolat~ wherever he wants us to be and to do whatever he may send us to do, even if that is just to suffer and pray for the harvest which we may no longer have an opportunity to plant or gather in. Symbols.'. Signs. and the Times Jane Marie Kerns, S.H.C.J. Sister Jane Marie is engaged in development work. curriculum planning and public relations at Cornelia Connelly High School; 2323 W. Broadway; A~aheim, CA 92804. _~er degree is in the field of sociology. Technically speaking,' says S. R. Wilson, signs are not symbols. Signs are perceptible m~inifes~ations which point to a condition present or to come because they flow from the ultihaate reality underlying the sign. In this sense signs are revelatory because the natural objects involved are ]as in-trinsic~ illy related to the ~:eality underneath as the smell of an onion is to the onion itself. For example, hot forehe'ad, weakness, perspiration and chills signify fever. Signs, in thig sense, cross cultural barriers of language and fl~ish essentially the identical message-content to all who can read the signs. At some point in history the acctimulated wisdom of a l~eople unravels the mystery behind the sign and passes on the same m.essage from generation to generation. Thus signs are stable in content because that which we~ per-ceive bears an unalterable and peculiar relationship to the reality wtii~zh is present or coming to be. Symbols are different. They are arbitrary things which are invested with 1Sociologists, in developing the implications of symbolic interaction, have made some distinctions between sign and symbol that differ markedly from the'more traditional scholastic terminology contrasting natural and conventional signs. For example, Berger and Luckmann in The Social Construction o! Reality speak.of "detachability" as a characteristic of all signs and sign systems while symbols are any significative themes achieving maximum detachability by reason of their being located in one sphere of reality but referring to ahother. A far simpler presentation by S R. Wilson has generated a line of thought that can be applied to the contemporary religious scene with some profit for us if we are willing to follow up his line of thought"with some applications made on our own. 346 Symbols. Signs . . . and the Times / 347 a tempbrary message by consensus of the group which employs the symbol. Symbols are the shorthand which capsulizes a larger"concept, perhaps an abstract one--the cryptography which presupposes that the users share the meaning so fully'that they can afford to reduce it to a kind of code word, that beStows brevity without sacrificing richness. There need not be any necessary connection between the choice of an object to act as symbol and the content of the message.Symbols are temporary: time-bound~ timely,, tied to. context so they lose their significance or are invested with new meanings in new times. How fickle symbols can be is well exemplified'by the quirk of fate that transmuted .Churchill's gallant V-for-victory hand salute into the peace symbol of the 1960's. Signs are natural, unequivocal, independent "of time and place an~l ¯ language, Symbols are culture;bound, subject to misinterpretation by the uninitiated and to re-interpretation by succeeding in-groups, long- or short, lived depending on the consistency of the ,sub-culture that employs them. Perhaps some reflection on this distinction, between sign and symbol can shed light, on:,one of the dilemmas facingreligious today. We religious have tried abruptly 'to change our symbol ~ystem and we find often enough that We have lost our sign value in the world., of today, We changed 9ur dress to relate more easily to the world of the ~twentieth century. Removing a barrier did not automatically create a sign 6f the Lord present among us. We chose the symbol system of modern womanhood .and sometimes found ourselves comfortably bunched .in with all the other .bananas. The public we served was not interpretifag our symbolic action as we meant it to be. And we are forced to recognize that the dress we donned and the veil we doffed were only symbol--not sign, not natural,.cross,cultural., unequivocaI expression of what .is or what is to come--:-only symbol, 9nly thingg subject tO misinterpretation, 'time-bbund even for us who made the gesture of changing the symbolmand ambivalent;~ even,~ to the ~degree. that not all religious~would agree on the what. and the why of the gesture. By and large our people are complimentary 'and comfortable with our new look, yet amid a growing congeniality we. have lost some of the eschatological sign value that should be ours. Why? I, Hazarding guesses is hazardous and it is;my guess that an understanding of signs and symbols can shed some light. If we understood how 'a society creates .a symbol, if we understood how a group learns toread a sign, .per-haps we could appreciate the impact of. context on communication. Accurate identification of the "things': we use to present ourselves depends on the context in which we use them. Think of ~ome "symbols" we have adopted in the last few years: There are religious who see denim as denoting fellow-ship with the poor, But with the escalation of the denim fashion' parade, to many people denim speaks of the radical chic, the young affluent who chooses to dress down, the professional would-be college kid revolting against .white shirts and starched,collars. To many, "fellowship" with a 348 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 "groovy" bunch in.~faded cut-offs has no religious connotations whats6ever. We want to say simplicity of life-style; they hear over-age college set gone "mod." Unwittingly, there is growing up a garbled version of the Fountain of Youth myth where what we wanted to hand on was the Good News about the Fountain of Living Waters which springs up in men of faith. Our~ sym-bols aren't bad; it's just that we exist in a cultural context which colors the interpretation of symbols "due to circumstances beyond our control . " We are talking about the fact that we can't control the whole configura-tion of life that put denim (or its equivalent) into a context in which it will be understood by those who see the same symbol system used to convey a different message. We human beings acting in concert unconsciously invest symbols with meaning 6nly in context. + can mean Christianity or + can mean add it all depends on what goes with it. It's the nature of symbol to be tied to other people's mentality. Let me" push the notion of symbols-in-context a bit further. In some ways symbols are .like bumper stickers~ That is, they are "one-liners", that punch out a limited message about one aspect of a question or point of view--concise, catchy, incontrovertible as far as they go. But when we are talking about the sign value of religious in their mission of revelation, we find that we aren't able to frame the essential message and crop off all the peripheral or block out all the other things we do and are. Hence, our symbols are never seen except in a broader context of the configuration of our whole lives. Let's think a little then about configuration. Have you ever pondered the variety of countenances .the Lord has fashioned out of the simple set of major elements such as two eyes, a nose, a mouth, some small degree of color in the eyes, some minor variations-- all within the magnitude of an inch or less--in the spacing of these ele-ments, the alignment of them, and so forth? Fantastic how .little he had to work with and yet how totally unique are the billions of faces that inhabit the universe! And all ~.because the particular configuration of similar ele-ments so alters the' finished product! How marvelous is the import of the configuration in which a single pair of blue eyes is set in defining the unique profile of a German lass as opposed to a California coed! Taken separately all the major elements of their countenances could be identical. Only the final configuration gives the identity to each as a unique person. Something like that is true of our symbol systems. When we changed our bleak habit woolens for blue denim or for fashionable fabrics and styles, we also re-arranged a thousand seemingly unrelated parts of the mosaic Called life-styles. Visits to hairdressers, pierced ears, cosmetics, jewelry, stereo sets in our rooms, guitars under our arms, weekends at the beach or skiing in the mountains, ten-speeds, dining out when pressures mount, happy hours and wine-and-cheese-get-togethers--all the places we went and the things we did in our new dress. And gradually we blended with the Every Woman in tune with the times--and lost any aura of the "otherness" of Symbols . . . Signs . . . and the Times / 349 the woman in touch with the Lord. It is frustrating and confusing since there is nothing wrorig with any of the items taken separately, nothing that could not serve as a ~,ehicle for inserting the message of the Lord into the modern context. Yet, unfortunately, the gap between intentions and outcome is real, if we'dare tell it as it is. So what can we do in such a dilemma? Retreat to our pre,Vatican II existence? . How dare we even consider such a move--we who have been called by. the Lord in his Church to seek ever new ways to bring his .same truth to our age? ~ . I believe that there are several lines of action open to us. First, and perhaps the easiest to admit, we must recognize.that a private symbol sys-tem whose true message is known only to ourselves is a useless tool for communication. Hence, in our recognition ~of the public nature of the sym-bols we choose to employ, we must be attentive to the feedback from those around us, the feedback that comes in the form of spoken criticism or spoken praise, and also the feedback that comes in the form of a vacuum-- the indication that we aren't, even noticed~ This isr not so easy since it implies that if we listen and respond'just to, those who catch the message, it might be we are only speaking to our in-group. Openness to criticism and willing-ness to. vary our approach is the on13~ way that will. make our knowledge of de facto social interpretation of symbols work for the good we yearn to. do. Apropo.s., algo, is the need for a discerning spirit that can ferret out the essence of a critical remark and that has no fear to dare to be different if the difference is where, it really: counts--difference, because our fundamental orientation even in choosing fashionable clothes, and so forth, is utterly other. For the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of those around me, for the sake of my apostolic effectiveness I choose to use the things I use; for ¯ their ability to extend my vital concerns outward, not just for their ability to enhance me. From .the apostolic point of view ~vhat my symbol system says to. those around rn"e is:more important than what it"says to me as long as"it is genuine. , A second direction in which to focus our attention is on the mutability (as w~ll as .f.allibility) of any~ symbol which derives from the other mean-ings conferred on the "things" we use or do by other people whose message differs from ours. '~We can always afford to bend and 'blend and experiment with our symbol system in order to keep it 'up-to-date. Indeed, we must be alert to those circumstances beyond our control which render any system obsolete or .misleading--changing customs, .changing values in some areas of life, changing vocabulary. Even semaiatics can' cause a loss of utility in a given form of expression. Knowing' the difference between what is essential and what is merely an arbitrary, ,though well-chosen, form of expression is an art capable of infusing life ,into the means we use to contact the world around us; The art of choosing wisely, rests largely on the nature of what we.try to signify. How can we speak to men of our God who is so utterly 350 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 other? What has holiness to say to a modern world? What can communicate spirit to flesh:and-blood men of today?. As men and nations,~scramble tO get, what words speak of giving.'? And what can emptying oneself to put:.on Christ say to empty men who have lost .their own identity? When thinking men unite to feed the world's hungry because 'the survival of all ultimately depends on the wise sharing of resources, how does one say that enlightened self'interest isn't enough? For a task of this magnitude, perhaps symbol .is the wrong tool. Maybe we can't rely~on a form of "shorthand" for all that the Christian message means to us. Perhaps we have to strive; to explicate our message--impress it more fullythrough expressions revelatory, :flo~ving from the essential reality of life in Christ. Earlier we spoke of the smell of an onion as peculiar to the. reality that is the onion. Substitute perfume to the rose if you prefer, but that is just how specific our expression should be to what 'it is we're trying to communicate! Perhaps sign is called for-- natural, unequivocal, universal harbinger of 'what is or what is to come. Sin~:e whatever we do can be so easily mis-read by a generation that rarely reflects deeply, our?language" (spoken, body, symbol) must be one that is unequivocal, timelessly true, inextricably bound up with the nature of what we communicate. Our "language" must be sign of what is or what is to come. We can only hope to sign the Lord to the world if we ourselves can be the living revelation of~God present among us, actuating what we are. When we so live in the presence of God that his thoughts have become ours, his con-cerns, outs, we can hope that the vitality of his life in us will speak to"men of Someone else, just as Jesus invariably led people beyond himself to ". the~Father who sent me; the Father himself loves you. ; if you knew me you would know the Father also . . . the words I speak are not mine but the Father's; . as my F~'ther sent me so I also . ; I do always what the Father command~ . . . ; I must be about my Father'S' business~. ; I will ask the Father and he will send you the Paraclete . . . ; whatever you ask for in my name that I will do so that the Father may be glorified in the Son . , . ; the world must: be brought to know .that I love the Father. ; I call you friends because I have made known to you everything I have learned from myFather." It was when Jesus said. to his own, "I came from the Father,and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the ,Father," that his men replied at long last, "Now you are: speaking clearly . because of this we believe that you came from God.,." (Jn 16:28-31.). Hardly can we expect to be heard by our world tif we are less specific! Hardly do we ~dare to be so specifi!! Yet. I doubt that there is one of us who has,not in prayer thrilled to the vocation that is ours and marveled that God should choose to use us as a means of revealing and witnessing to his presence in the world. We believe--and yet . We shall never be able to offer our people more than fickle symbols until it becomes "natural" for us to perceive and Symbols . . . Signs . . . and the Times / 351 to speak of ourselves as signs that God is present and coming~ Our work for the poor may appear to be just the fad of generous adolescence or neo-humanism in action unless we are in fact coming from God and drawing our people to God. Angry activists can demand' prison reform as effectively as we and still remain atheists'. To what am I signing on the picket lines or in the classroom? Many good men grow whole from their repulsion over human suffering. Ft. George Aschenbrenner, in his article, "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father" (REviEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Jan., i975), spoke of the healing ministry of Jesus as springing from his vision of the holiness of God. So, too, for us philanthropy is not enough, It is significant that a woman of~ our times renown for her ministry of healing has had her story told to the world under the title, Something Beauti[ul for God. Mother Theresa undoubtedly comes to her poor as one sent ~by God to lead them on to him. Her meaning is unequivocal, its con-tent crosses language barriers and surmounts limitations of time and place. She is indeed a signto all of.the presence of God in his creation. But how was she different? She adapted the dress and the practices of religious life to the customs of India; so have we striven to meet America in the twentieth century. What more is there to it? . ' Perhaps it isosomehow or other connected with her approach to the first major work that .she undertook: her concern for the dying, the terminally ill; the cases that most of the hospitals there would not accept today be-cause there is nothing-that can be gained from medical treatment, there is no hope of recovery: . . . There is an element in her preoccupation with the dying that shouts aloud that dying is not the end, that even a dying man is worthy of respect and love and concern. Hers was an attitude-in-action which pointed a reality present in he~r and pre~sent in her world of the dying that could only mean that death~was not what it seemed to be to the masses who passed by the dying beggar in the streets. The reality alive in the center of her being revealed itself in act and attitude peculiar to those who know the God and Father of Jesus Christ. She was indeed a sign of God present in his world. Mother Theresa shows~us that it is possibleto be a sign in the world. What she stands,.for speaks internationally of humanity's ability, to stand 'before the experience of the Holy. Even more exciting, what she is and has become for our age is the revelation~that a person~who is sign doesn't sim-ply point out statically something that has .happened to her or him but rather that such a sign enables the beholder to experience the Holy for him'- self. It not only'allows man to~'think about God, but it activates an en-counter between God ands.the beholder. Our interpretation of the sign be-comes experiential, not simply intuitional or cognitive. I believe that the authentic Christian witness offered by Mother Theresa and her co-workers demonstrates, by the grace of God, the essential ele-ments of signs in an eminent degree. The grace which incorporates one into 352 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 the very life of Jesus enables a human life to be a natural revelation of the supernatural reality that is present and coming: Man's. experience of the Holy as it radiates through, the person and personality of another chal-lenges with the unequivocal demand to "take off your shoes" in ~ome fashion. The call to respond is universal, that is, it °cries out to hearts of men of every tongue, time or religious .traditi0n---assuming their hearts have been initiated into the mystery of God. And there is nothing in the configura-tion of his life~style to confuse or to cloud or to bury the sign under a bushel basket. ': We know that the same grace of God confers p6tential sign value on us all, even beyond the extent.to which we surrender to its gentle usurpation of our natural self. We may need to study our lives to perceive the dynamic of their configuration. We can scrutinize what we do with our time,, what we talk about, what we expend our energies on, what delights us, what we do with our free time, what .people we interact With most often--~and why. What do people ,bring to us as topics of conversation and as cause for concern? Not just what are the ice-breakers, but what are~ the substantive issues? Or .are there any substantive issues?,, Is it just fashion~talk, hair styles, and where are the best sales, what restaurants do we like, what about the latest recording artists, what team will win the World Series, what shows are worth seeing, what books are topping the Best Sellers lists? As well.educated women and well-rounded persons, we ought to be capable and to be intrigued .by exploring all facets of the contemporary scene.Yet there is incumbent upon us always the urgency of the prophet: A voice commands: Cry! and 1 answered, "What shall I cry?. Shout with a loud voice, joyful messenger . Shout without fear, "Here is your God." (Is 40:6-9) If we spend a day without ever mentioning our God to our world; if we: converse wisely about everything else but not about the Cent6r of our lives; if for a day, and days and a day, we apply psychology and economics and political :science and medicine and pedagogy in the. healing of hearts and the enabling of those striving to break out of bondage of any sort, it well may be that we present ourselves as professional personswho can live without any practical application of our religious profession. Then it is un-derstandable that the totality of the configuration of our daily lives obscures the sign and justifies our world's propensity for reading us according to the symbol system in vogue where we are. Our anomaly gtems not from our doing anything wrong and not from our not doing anything .at all, but just from the fact that our peculiar blend of actions~and attitudes islso familiar to our people that we fail to communicate the otherness of God. ~Where Jesus is the song sung softly all day long in the hearts of his own who are called to witness to him in this day and age, the most appropriate Symbols . . . Signs .,°and the~ Times / 353 exhortation might be "Preach what you practice." In terms of this article that could be translated to mean, "Find the ways--the signs, the symbols, the. emphases in the particular blend of attitudes and activities that are our life--(to say we come) from an inner experience of the God who is present and who continuously is coming." In this sign surely we shall conquer! NoW Available, As: A Reprint,, Colloquy of God with a Soul That Truly Seeks Him ,Address: Price: ~;.30 per opy,~ 161us post~ige.' Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand '~ St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Reflections on Vowed Living1 Claire Brissette, S,S.Ch. Sister Claire. a graduate of the Center for the Study of Spirituality at the Institute of Man, Duquesne University, is engaged in ongoing formation work in her province, working with sisters primarily at the local community level. She resides at 297 Arnold St.; Wrentham. MA 02093. More than a decade ago, the Church, speaking officially through the Vatican Council, invited and challenged religious throughout the world to re-evaluate their institutional structures and to re-examine their~ lives in light of gospel values and the spirit of their founders. For most congregations and most religious men and women, the spiri~t of Vatican II soon became crystallized in the phrase "renew and°adapt." During the years immediately following the council, we opened the windows of our lives and hearts to let in the fresh air and warm sunshine of renewal chapters', of .'revised Acts of the Chapter, of experiments in life-style~ community living, apostolate and forms of prayer. We questioned the structures and values of religious liv-- ing all in a sincer~ effort to ~:espond to the dictates of Vatican II. Through- 1This article is an integration of personal reflections from various sources. In listing these sources, it is difficult to distinguish Where their thought ends and where mine-begins. I wish to acknowledge my gratitude to each of these authors and speakers for their insight which fias stimulated my own integrative reflection. Besides the publica-t'ions listed in the bibliography, the following workshops have also influenced the con-tents of this article: "The Life of the Counsels" given by Thomas Walsh, S.J. and ~Bernadette Casey, R.S.M. at the Diocesan Spiritual Life Center in Pawtucket, RI on Feb. 28-29, 1976; "Fashioning the Future,of Vowed Commitment" a ten day workshop given at Mt. Augustine, Staten Island, NY, during which nine nationally known speak-ers, m turn, provided input on a specific vow. Appreciation also goes to Susah Muto, Assistant Director of the Institute of Man,, Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, for her helpful suggestions regarding the final draft, Of th~is a~rt!cle. 354 Reflections on 'Vowed Living / 355 Out this period of painful searching, we sought to discover the Spirit of the Lord guiding us through the confusion and turmoil of the~renewal. In more recent years, as~the initial turmoil has begun to subside, we have found ourselves facing and grappling with one of the deeper issues of the renewal, the meaning of our vows. Because of the :legalism that charac-terized our pre-Vatican II way of life, the meaning and living out of our. v6ws was often limited to external structures and rules. As many of these were put aside, and greater emphasis was placed on personal fulfillment and community living, poverty, celibacy and obedienc( seemed to fade into the background. We were no longer certain of (heir meaning_nor of their relevance forpost-Vatican religious life:' As we begin to take a new look at the meaning of our vowed consecration, the living of our vows is gradually emerging as the concrete expression of a personal love relationship with the Lord. In reflecting upon vowed living, 1 would like to elaborate upon the meaning of our love relationship with God, as well as on the meaning of each vow in light' of this love. Vowed Living: A Relationship of Love: A clue to the inner attitude of love which lies at the heart of our vowed living, may be found in the book of the Prophet Jeremiah:Experiencing an inner crisis, Jeremiah speaks of God rather boldly and directly, as he says, "You have seduced me, Yahweh, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger" (Jr 20::7). Perhaps oi, too, living a way of life that seems absurd to our superficial world, .can address these same words to God. I can look back into my life, and perhaps remem-ber the moment I was seduced by God, the moment I felt the closeness of his presence and love in my' life, and with my whole being,, responded '~yes" to his invitation of loveTIt was a total "yes," one that would plunge me .deeply into ~n intimate sharing in the mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus, pone that would demand a constantly renewed surrender Of my whole self to his hidden designs upon my life. T0,seduce and to be seduced implies a love so deep and,~so strong that it enables lovers,to move beyond the externals of looks and ways, to touch one another's hearts. In thecase of God and,myself, a human creature, I have been ocaugh~up in the' infinite love of a God for me, and.,of my total love for my God. For some mysterious reason beyond my .limited compre-hension, God has fallen in love with me; I, in turn, have responded to his love. Our love for one another is not passing or temporary. Nor is it a senti-mental love. Rather, it is a love that has been sealed in the total consecrar tion of my entire being to him. It is a love that has changed radically the ¢ '-'For a more complete and di~tailed reflection on the love-relationship aspect of the vows, see Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spikit (Washington. DC: Corpus Publica-tions, 1968), pp. 71-163. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 course of my life, a love so powerful that I, a human creature, have allowed myself to be seduced by a God who is Spirit. "You have overpowered me: you were the stronger." At the moment of my "yes" to God, I experienced the overwhelming reality rOf his love_for me. Caught up in the experience of such a love, I could respond only with love, accepting to follow him wherever he would lead me. In my enthusiasm, perhaps it seemed to me then that just about anything was possible:. For, in my weakness, he would be my strength. In moments of darkness, he would light 'the way. In the experience of my powerlessness, l~e,would sus-tain me with his~power. Iri moments of ,aloneness, he would be .present in the silent depths of my heart. Confident of his love for me, and relying on his strength and power, I could say "yes" to a way of life that seemed some-what out of the-ordinary. Many years, perhaps; have passed.since the d~y of my love-filled "yes" to my Lord. Since that day, I have tasted the joys of my yes, as wel! as its sorrows and disappointments. I have also felt the weight of the cross, as well as the new and deeper life that has emerged from its pain. At times, also, I have perhaps doubted my Lord, for he seemed absent when I needed him most. And my flame of faith and love seemed on the verge of being extinguished. Through the persons who have entered my life, as well as through the various situations and events that have constituted my sacred journey with my Lord, my love has been tried and tested.In his love for me, my God~ has attempted to deepen and mellow my Iove~ for him. Each day, he continues to .purify my love, to shape and mold me, making me ever more precious in his. sight. Have I let myself surrender to his mysteri-ous ways of love in my life? As I reflect upon my love-relationship with my Lord, I need to realiz6 that as a human person, I am flesh and blood, limited by time and space as well as by my very nature. I can live out this love relationship only in a way that is possible for me, given who I am as a person, and~the concrete situation in which my Lord h~is placed me. He has probed me and has known me even before I.was knit in my mother's womb (see Ps 139). He knows better than I do what are my limits and abilities.,His love demands no more than what is possible for the human person I am. He is well aware that I cannot deny my human nature or my human needs. I can only tran-scend my needs in and through the experience.of his love for me and of mine for him. I also need to keep in mind that my love relationship with God, sealed on the day of .my religious consecration, deepens and,mellows over a life-time; as does the love of a married couple. I need to respect the present level of my relationship with him; while remain, ing open each day to concrete possibilities for deepening that love. Within the context of this love relationship between my Lord and me, it becomes possible to reflect on the lived meaning of our vows. For, if we consider vowed living only on the human level, we risk becoming enmeshed Relqections. on Vowed Living / 357 in such thinking as "My human needs are repressed." Or, "Human fulfill-ment is impossible." Or again~ "This way: of life doesn't make sense?' No, it doesn't make any sense at all, if we limit our vowed living to the nar-rowness of human logic and understanding. For God's ways are not ours, and what seems wise in the eyes of men is foolishness to God. Consequently, I need to take the leap of faith into the horizon of my love relationship with my Lord in order to grasp something of the spiritual meaning of vowed living. Consecrated Celibacy:' During a recent hospitalization, I was, to some extent, an "object of curiosity" for my roommate. She questioned me at length about my~life-style and work. But what puzzled her most was my celibate commitment: She .seemed unable to grasp why any+ne would want to make stich a com-mitment. "Whatever made you do it? .How can you live that way?" she often asked; For her, a celibate way of, life seemed .almost unthinkable. And yet, before she left the hospital, she very spontaneously admitted that she had grown to feel comfortable with me, remarking that I was "OK." The attitude of my new-found friend regarding celibacy reflects the thinking of a culture which extols sexual pleasure andgratification. We need only.listen to TV commercials, look at paperback racks in the local book-stores, or glance through the newspaper movie listings to become aware of the sexual orientation of our culture, Or, we need only listdn to teenagers speak of sexuality to realize that sexual morality has changed drastically in recent years. Within this cultural context, celibacy is frowned upon and looked down upon as an impossible and repressive way of life because for many, sexual pleasure and gratification have, to some extent, taken on an absolute character. Sexuality and sexual pleasure in themselves are sacred values, willed .by God from the time of creation. Simply.sacrificing these values in. and for itself for no deeper value, does indeed lead to a repressive way of life. How-ever, viewed within the context of one's personal love-relationship with God, celibate living'takes on deeper meaning and dynamism. As my Lord becomes central in my life, he becomes the hidden trea-sure and the pearl of great price for whom I am willing to give. my whole life, all that I 'am and all that I have. As Paul tells us: aln The Vowed Li/e, va~ Kaam maintains that the attitudes of celibacy, poverty and obedience comprise the fundamental threefoldO path of human and spiritual unfolding. He sees these human attitudes already foreshadowed in the highest forms of animal life. All human persons, regardless of their life form, are called to live out these attitudes according to the specific demands of their concrete life situation. Vowed relig!ous, he says, are called to be living witnesses for the threefold path of self-unfolding. They profess to find the beginning and end of this threefold presence in Gdd. See Adrian van Kaam~ The Vowed Life (Denville, NJ: Dimension Books, 1968), pp: 11-74. 35'8 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Those things I used to consider gain, I "liave now reappraised as loss in the light: of the surpassing knpwledge of my Lord Jesus Christ. For his sake, I have forfeited everything; I have accounted all els~ rubbish so that Christ may be'my wealth and 1 may bein him" (Ph 3:7-9). To us, who ifi recent years; have placed much emphasis on human develop-ment and on the person, these words sound strong and absolute, demand-ing and without compromise. They may even turn us off. Yet, the challenge of the gospel, of Christianiiy, of vowed living is that over a lifetime, Christ become so central in my life, so real for me, that my human life and human values take their rightful place in light of him. Thus, the human value of the pleasure of a needy self-centered love is transcended by my total love for my Lord. He becomes the.companion of.,.my life, him in whom I live and 'move and have my being. In the exp.erience of his love, I grow in love for the human person that I am, a person with human potential and short-comings; a person entrusted with talents that I am called to own as mine and use for his love; a per~son graced with the loving presence of Father, Son and Sl~irit through the'.:gift ef baptism; a person so much in love with my Lord, that I too can willingly boast of my weaknesses, for I know and believe that his power is living and active within me (see 2 Co 12:9). Within the experience 9f God's personal love for me, I grow in self-love and self-acceptance. At the same time, I grow in respect and accept-ance of other~, the sisters I live with, the. persons I work with, those who enter into my life each day-s-loving them as they are, and allowing them to be who they are, different from me. Gradually, over a life-time, his love for me and mine for him free.;me, to some extent, from the subtle manipula-tion of using 'others for my"self-interests, or of trying to make others into my own image, and likeness. My love relationship with my Lord opens me gradually to the beauty of the other lying beneath the surface of appear-ances and behavior. In his love, I learn to transcend my own needs,"and begin to let go of my narrow labeling tendencies so as to allow the other to unfold as the unique person he or she is. Thus my celibate love fosters life within myself as well as within others. My love relationship with Christ makes me aware of his love .for others also. I do not seek to cling in a needy way to others, for ultimately, they, too, belong to God. Rather, rooted in his loxie, my love for others calls forth what is best in them. Celibate love cannot beqived in a vacuum. The deep and real sacrifice of the human love of marr!age and of a family must not turn me in on myself in a sterile, self-centered way. Rather, my capacity for love and inti-macy must gradually blossom forth in a deepening of my love for God, in the warmth and intimacy of human friendship, in the tenderness,of a love that moves outward to those with whom I live, and reaches out daily to those persons the Eoi-d allows to enter into my life, my co-workers, my stu-dents, patients or clients. R~ither than repress my human capacity for love, then, celibate love, vowed fc~r the sake of the deeper love of my Lord, frees Reflections on Vowed Living / 359 me .to spread his love warmly, tenderly, and generously, simply by being who I am and living what I am--a celibate lover/ ~ Furthermore, because I am human flesh and blood with needs, desires and passions, I may experience, at various periods in my life, and'with varying intensity, the overwhelming need for sensual satisfaction and gratifi- ¯ cation. At other times, I may experience the deep suffering of human alone-ness and of loneliness. To deny or repress any of these feelings leads only to deeper pain and suffering. Rather, I need to face my feelings, own them as .mine, and 'realize that they too are part of my being human. During .these, painful mon~ents, a living faith in my Lord's love for me, often concretized' in the love and concern of a supportive community or of a friend, may be the only means of transcending my suffering. Each encounter with my hu-~ man poverty and vulnerability becomes a renewed opportunity for strength-ening my love for my Lord as well as for other persons he places on my path to comfort and support ~me. Gradually, over a life-time, I learn to turn to him, relying on his strength and his power, aware that "when I am powerless it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12: 10). Poverty.~ A sister friend of mine~recently graduated from college. Shortly before graduation, as she and her classmates were busily writing r6sum6s and look-ing into various job opportunities, she was approached by Rome of her friends. "What happens to your salary? Do you get.to keep the money you make?" ~ They - seemed somewhat puzzled as Sister explained to them that she turned her salary in to the community. "You mean ,you can't keep what you earn?" they replied with a kind of disbelief. Their attitude is characteris-tic of another trend within our culture. For many Americans, material wealth and possessions h~ve become important status symbols. We need only listen to various individuals speak of wanting a higher salary, of moving into a larger, more impressive home, or of buying a more expensive car, to realize that personal identity and prestige are often dependent upon one's income bracket. Everyone, rich and poor alike, is engaged in the struggle for survival, for more money and more possessions~ Part of the American dream consists in the belief that if.'one, earns enough money and. eventually works his way to the top, he will be blessed with perfect h.apptness. For many contempor~try Ameri-cans, acquiring wealth and~ possessions has become an ultimate value. 4Hinnebusch describes love as f611ows: "To Io~,e is to go out of myself as the center of interest, and to make'.the loved one the focus of attention." Paul Hinnebusch, Corn- " munity in the Lord (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 1975), p. 23.~This is the kind of self-giving attitude fostered by g~nuine celibate love. ¯ ~For a more extensive development of poverty as total dependences on God, see Johannes B. Metz, Poverty o[ Spirit, trans. John Drury (Paramtis, NJ: Paulist Press, 1968). 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Within this competitive materialistic culture, men and women religious vow to live poverty--not for its own sake, for poverty in and for itself is not a value to be encouraged. Rather, religious poverty becomes meaning-ful only in and through one's personal love relationship with the Lord. As I grow in the ispiritual attitude of vowed poverty, I become increasingly aware that God's love for me is so deep and so complete that he emptied himself totally'~of his equality with God, and took the form of a slave, be-coming one ofous, subjecting himself to the limitations of the human, condi-tion (see Ph 2:5-11). Once again, I find myself caught up in the mystery of my Lord's love, a love that has seduced and captured me. Only if I am truly in love with my God, rich in him, can I, in turn, gradually empty my-self of myself ~nd of material possessions. As my love relationship with him becomes central in my life, the human value of possession becomes subordi-nated to this: love, and takes its rightful place in my life. In the strength of his love, I am able .to let go, gradually, of my possessive attitude, no longer al-lowing myself to cling possessively to things such as clothing, money, food, the latest fad, machines, the community car, my own ideas, opinions, views, and.more. I recognize the need for possessions: for money, clothing, food, machines, as my friend recognized the need to earn a salary. Likewise, I recognize the need to have certain ideas, views, and opinions. But because I care so much for God, I care also for this world--for our world. Our love for one another frees me to use.things respectfully rather than possessively, with the detached attitude that allows things to be as they are, rather than with the grasping, and clinging attitude of hoarding, or of the' stubborn attitude that "my way is the right one.'''~ As my love for my Lord grows, I gradually learn to see myself in my rightful place as a.limited human creature. Through the eyes of a living~ faith, I begin to realize that my views, my opinions, my ways of doing things may be good and right for me, but remain relative for other members of the community as well as for those with whom I work. As iI become rich in the one thing necessary, the love of my Lord, the self-emptying of poverty helps me to transcend my need to totalize and absolutize. In light of my Lord's living and active presence in the cultural-historical situation of the world, I ~radually begin to distance myself from my views, values and ma-terial possessions. They are important to me at this time in my life, but they also are relative, even for myself. For if I remain flexibly open to the un, folding of my life situation, the values, principles and opinions that seem absolute for me today may be less important to me in a few years. For ex-ample, perhaps a few years ago, I was on the "band wagon~' for total, open-ness in community. At the time, openness seemed to be ~an ultimate value for community living, With time and experience, I may have come to see that openness is indeed important, but every member of the community is '~van Kaam, The Vowed Li]e, pp. 176-186. Reflections on Vowed Living / 361 not capable of the same level of openness. Consequently, the value of open-ness which at one time seemed ultimate for me, has become modified by the emergence-for-me of the deeper value of respect for the other. Through a continual self-emptying attitude, I gradually learn to let go of my opinions and views in order to become more open to the Spirit of my Lord as he expresses himself through the differing values and opinions of others, as well as through the unfolding of history. My love for my Lord enables me to learn to flow with life, expecting little, and accepting whatever comes, as it comes, rather than rigidly and possessively trying to control my" life. For, in love, I gradually come to realize that ultimately, I do not control my life; it i.s in the hands of a Father-God who loves me dearly and cares for me tenderly. Furthermore, the self-emptying of poverty viewed within the context of love, may prompt me to give myself' away through giving my time, through allowing persons and their needs'to take priority over things. In an individualistic culture .in which my life is often run by a time-clock, per-haps I have lost the art of sharing my time with others, of giving my time away for the sake of others. In silent reflection before my Lord, I gradu-ally discover how much of my time I can realistically give away, for the demands of my own life make it impossible for me to be totally available to others. While the self-emptying of poverty may at times demand that I give myself selflessly to others, this same self-emptying may at other times .require that I refuse a request, because of my personal obligations or simply because I need the time to restore myself both physically and mentally. The essence of the spirit of poverty is. that~I grow gradually into the lived realization that my life is in the hands of my Lord. In love, he .has created me. In love, he continues each day to sustain me. My love for him in turn, prompts me to empty myself of myself and slowly to detach myself from material possessions in order to create the inner space in which I may become ever more sensitive and responsive to the whispers of. his love in my daily life. The pain of self-denial and of daily dying to my self-centeredness is very real, and at times, may be overwhelming. At such moments, I need to remind myself that my Lord'~ love for me led him to the cross, the ulti-mate experience of detachment .and of self-emptying:Just as his love for his Father and for me enabled him to transcend his natural repugnance for suf-fering,? so too, my love forhim strengthens me to follow my Lord along the way of the cross, that through the pain of self-emptying, I may be glorified by an ever deeper share in his life (see Ph 2:5-11 ). Obedience A further reflection on our contemporary culture leads us to realize that the value of power, also, is highly esteemed. All of us, at some time or another, fantasize having some kind of power. Perhaps during my school years, I dreamed of being class president or president of the student council. 362 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Or perhaps during my early years in religious life, 1 dreamed of one day being house assistant or local superior. Or;again, since ~those structures of-ten no .longer exist, perhaps my dreams are now directed toward being school principal, or head nurse, ot an influential member of tt]e parish team. What-ever my fantasy or my dream, chances are that some aspect of it is related to my drive for power. ,. Often implicit in this climb to the top of the social ladder is having power,over other human ~.persons, as well ashaving the power to make im-portant decisions. In fact, our world civilization seems to be based on a power struggle between the free world and communism. ., This power stru(:ture has .implications for ~the life of every human per-son: we often feel overpowered by technology, by the intricacies of big government and big business, by large ,agencies :that seem to control some facet of our lives, and before which we feel helpless. In turn, each of us to some degree seeks to react against, these overwhelming powers by asserting our own power within.:our small domain, be it in our limited ability to say "yes" or ,no" to issues pertaining to our personal life and work. Power in itself is to be valued, for without some degree of power, I ab-dicate the gift of my :human freedom, as well as human responsibility. How- ~everi power becomes detrimental when other human persons become ob-jects of my . personal project and desires. Then my power infringes upon their human freedom, and can become a destructive force. When this hap-pens, power, becofiaes an ultimate value for me, one by which I hope to gain some prestige and security, thereby repressing my own inner insecurity. '~ Religious men and women who vow obedience within our power-oriented world are reminders that human power, like the values of pleasure and possession, is not an ultimate value; that in light of my personal love relationship with my Lord, power is relative. For to be seduced by God means that ! allow him to have power over me. It implies that I grow in my ability to become attentive to his will, and become increasingly sensitive to his demands and desires. Our' love relationship assures me of his con-stant care and concern for me, In the security of his love, I discover the space to grow in the awareness that what he asks of me through the 'persons, events and situationg that enter into my life each day, is the concretization of his will for me at this time in my life,r Just as he speaks to me through~these realities that exist outsid ,myself, so too, he speaks through the reality that I myself am. His presence can be discovered in and through my possibilities and my limits, my desires and ¯ ambitions, my physical and emotional strengths and weaknesses. All that ¯ I am is my Lord's gift to me, a gift through which he speaks his word. Paul tells us that our deepest self is hidden in Christ, Part of our 10ve-re- ':For a further development of obedience as listening, refer to van Kaam, The VoCved LiIe; pp.'q57-169. '- Reflections on Vowed l,iving / 363 lationship then, demands that I be true to that deephst self, created in the image and likeness of .my Lord himself. To obey my deepest self, to submit myself to other persons, to events and situations demands a love so strong, that I am willing to empty myself of my desire, for total power over my own life, to accept in loving faith, that my Lord does indeed reveal himself through other creatures. In such a love, I can'.gradually loosen my grip on my own life, and slowly begin to listen more openly to persons, events, situations, both within my community and within the culture, as messengers of his divine will for me. In this loving openness, I am gradually freed from a slavish attachment to my feelings, my views, my opinions, my ideas, because I allow myself to be enriched by those of others. Recognizing the presence of my Lord in and through persons and events outside myself is difficult and challenging. For unconsciously, I tend to be-lieve that I know what is best for me. I tend to believe that what 1 know to be best for me is the concrete expression of the Lord's will in my life. How can otherpersons, each limited as I am, reveal to me anything of God's will? Such thoughts gradually close me in on my own thinking, my own ideas and opinions, somewhat like a snail closed-in in its shell. Uncon-sciously, I make myself like God, giving myself ultimate power over my life. Only in love can I gradually transcend my self-centered God-like atti-tude, and slowly begin to recognize my Lord's will for me as expressed in and through all of creation persons, events, situations.and things. In love, I discover the strehgth to die daily to my own will, in order to allbw my Lord's will to live and to be express~ed in and th.rough the limited human person that I am. Thus, every person who enters into my life, as well as everything that happens in my life becomes an integral part of my~ personal sacred history with my Lord. Conclusion ¯ A~' I reflect upon vowed living within the context of my personal love relationship with God, I can begin to see my vows as gifts which invite me to a continual deepening of this love relationship. For no longer is God a distant Spirit imposing upon me the obligations of the vows; rather, He be-comes Someone for me, someone real and personal inviting me to an ever ,deeper intimacy with °him through the sacred bond of my vows. As this intimacY deepens, I grow in the awareness of my need for him. I cannot live my vows on my own strength; I need to rely on his power. Paul tells us that "We possess this treasure in earthen vessels, to make it clear that its surpassing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). In hu-man terms, my vowed life makes no sensi~; it is foolishness in the eyes of men. Moreover, on the human levd alone, ].am unable to live such a way of life. It is delicate, fragile and vulnerable; ever exposed to the opposition of my own human nature and of controversial forces in our world. 364 / Review ]or Religious, I/olume 36, 1977/3 Living my vows becomes possible only through the centrality of my per: sonal love relationship with my Lord. In that love, I am graced with the strengtl~ and power, to re~spond to his constant invitation to enter into the self-emptying process. Our Lord is a jealous God who wants to possess me totally. He promises in return, to fill my emptiness with his loving presence. Each call to self-emptying is an invitation to die to some aspect of my old ~self; my needy self, constantly in search of the security of human power, pleasure and possession. However, this death is but a means of leading me to a life of deeper intimacy with him. It is a death c.alling me constantly to the new and deeper freedom of love. Each day of my life, he seduces me, calling me t6 a.morb personal" rela-tionship with him. Each day of my life, I must allow myself to be seduced-- to give him love for love, relying on his strength and his power. This call is a daily challenge, the challenge of living my "yes" to him. Am I willing to follow him all the way; ever open to i:laily situations as so many con-crete opportunities .for deepening my love through consecrated celibate .love, through self-emptying poverty and through freeing obedience? Now Available As A Reprint, ¯ Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories with Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Address: Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Toward Further Self-Definition William F, Hogan, C.S~C. Father Hogan is an Assistant General and General Procurator of his congregation'. His last article in these pages, "Communily Reconsidered," appeared in the September; 1976 issue. He resides Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma, Italy. In' Per]ectae Caritatis the Fathers of Vatican II told us that it serves the best interests of the (~hur~h for religious institutes to have their own special character.and purpose. Thus, the spirit of founders and all the particular goals and traditions that constitute the patrimony of each religious institute should be recognized and safeguarded (See 'PC 2,,b). This statement oc-casioned a flurry of activity in some religious communities to start research-ing their traditions to ,.confirm again the self-definition of each community, and to stir up interest in the spirit of their founders. In many instances this activity has bo~ne fruit in that the religious have been put more'clearly in touch with their particular roots and have slowly effected,some changes of direction in their life and apostolic stance. In other institutes, the spurt of renewed interest subsided almost as fast as it. began, especially in those congregations in which nothing particularly unique seemed to stand out. The call to discover the uniqueness of one's heritage is being reasserte~i in the proposed new text of the law for instittitesof the consecrated,life; for those who have framed the proposed text have taken very seriously the mandate of Vatican II about' preserving,the patrimony of each religious in-stitute. Instead of drawing up legislation to cove'r all the points on religious life in a uniform way, as th( present law in. good part does, they are pro-posing general principles of Jaw within which each institute is to draw up its particular norms in accordance with its own traditions. By taking such a direction, the new law, if it be approved,, will be inviting and requiring of religious greater efforts at community self-understanding and self-definition. In order to meet this demand, it will be necessary for members of religious 365 366 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 institutes, and in particular members of general chapters, to develop a re-fined awareness of the founder's charism, the continuing charisms of the congregation as expressed into traditions and in its spiritual and apostolic heritage, a clear sense of where the institute has been in the past, where it is in the present and where the legacy of the founder and the traditions of the community are pointing for the future. That there is still a widespread need for further self-understanding and self-definition is becoming apparent from the various interim constitutions and position papers of religious institutes. Prior to the decree on renewal of religious life (Ecclesiae sanctae, August 6, 1966) and the directive to revise constitutions, the legislation of religious institutes had a remarkable sameness because constitutions had to conform to the ~Norms of 1901 and the subsequent rules of the Sacred Congregation, promulgated in 1921, which, had to be followed in seeking approbation for the texts of new constitutions. Today a new similarity is emerging, although it bears little resemblance to the primarily legal approach of the pre-sixties. The present-day "sameness of texts" appears to be rooted~in the fact that religious in-stitutes have followed the" lead of the council and gone back to the gospel roots of religious !ife, t0_us considering it as flowing out of the baptismal commitment. As -a result of this important emphasis on religious life in the context of the gospei and of bap~tism, underscoring, as it does, the.thorough-ly Christian nature of religious life, frequently the same scriptural and conciliar texts are cited. And in the process of situating the religious insti-tute in its proper ecclesial and Christian context,.little, or at least, insufficient stress,,~.is placed 6n those particular ways in which the founder wished to emphasize the gospel message and on those facets of. the Christ-life revealed through the Spirit's activity in his or her life and mission. Generally speak-ing, all religious have~'been very conscious of the need to express religious life in terms of a broad ecclesial vision and to avoid any instances of the exaggerated c~ngregationai emphasis~that may have closed them in on them-selves in the past. But in meeting, this issue, they may be.losing sight of that part of their contribution to the life of the Church which consists in positively developing their particular heritage. There is ~no reason why there cannot be harmony and balance between .the ecclesial and the peculiarly congregational elements, and thus a clearer understanding of the role of a particular .religious institute in the Church. For some religious institutes it may be rather difficult to grasp the unique-ness of their heritage, especially if they have been founded since the 1800's, when many congregations came to birth under the ~inspiration of. the Spirit ¯ to meet particular needs in some specific geographic area, and have pat-terned themselves on-other, already existi.ng congregations. But even in such instances, there.may well exist a uniqueness of insight and emphasis fr6m the founder, the early members and the riches that have accumulated~from the various religious over the years--spiritual, intellectual, apostolic riches that Toward Further Sel[-Definition / 367 constitute the legacy, of the congregation. It is these factors that will have to be borne in mind in delineating the norms of law for the congregation' today, and that will yiel'd the necessary self-understanding of the religious institute. Religiou,s today often have recalled in liturgies or at congregational gatherings concerned with community and plurality the celebrated text from the_ first epistle to the Corinthians: There are different gifts but the same Spirit: there are different °ministries but the same Lord; there are different works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone. To each person the manifestation of the Spirit is given , ~ for the common good . . . (I Co 12:4ff,). And similarly from Ephesians: ~And his gifts were that some should be apogtles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers in roles of service for the faithful to build up, the body of Christ. till we become one in faith and in the knowl-edge of God's Son, and form that perfect man who is Christ come to lull stature (Ep 4:11-13). The't~exts in themselves obviously speak of individual gifts of the Spirit to the Church; but in the modern context they can well'remind us of the diversity of gifts and charisms within the categories of the traditional gifts in the Church. If religious life itself is a gift of the Spirit to the Church, as the Church teaches, then even more precisely is the religious life of a particular institute a special gift of the Spirit to the Church for the building up of the Church. And the religious of the institute should seek to fathom the gift in all its particular aspects. The° gifts of diverse religious institutes to the Church reflect the many-faceted splendor of the Father's love for his peo-ple. Our response to that love should reflect the facets of that love as these are particularized in our institutes and their heritage.- To continue to reflect on and search out the heritage'of a religious in-stitute demands the continued expenditure of psychological energy. Yet many religious are tired of devoting their energies~this way, especially in view of the crying needs of mankind ~hom they are called to serve. The self-definition and self-understanding being requested of them may no longer be seen as a value worth pursuing. It cannot be denied that there are many demands on religious today, and they must~become ~selective in which de-mands they will meet. But in developihg personal and ~ollective criteria for responding to demands, religious must not forget.that the time and effort spent in self-understanding and self-definition is~ultimatelyfor the sake of greater and more meaningful service to others and for the building up of the life of the Church. The deeper the unde.rstand!ng of the call of the Spirit .,to the founder and those who have come after him, the deeper and more intense could be the response. And the growth in appreciation of the gift Of the Spirit that is a particular religious institute contributes to growth in wonder and appreciation of the gift that is Church. 368 / Review Jor Religious, Volume "36, 1977/3 . If the proposed direction of the new law for institutes of the conse-crated life is adopted in the Church, religious could be the richer spiritually for what it will necessitate in terms of further self-definition. But if the easier, more .comfortable path is followed of just latching on to that which is familiar, without serious examination of roots and traditibns, then the opportunity for seizing onto the uniqueness of God's gift of the particular institute will be lost. Every religious group was called into being because of a unique need in 'the Church. The continuance and growth of'institutes is suppo~sed to be .in terms of their umque contributions to the life of the Church and the world. This uniqueness is born of the special love of God for the founder and those who have succeeded the founder with the passage of time, all unique persons, who, in sharing life and ministry together, should be creating a unique response to God, the Church and the world. We need to know exactly where our insl, itutes are "new" in terms of this uniqueness, how we have arrived at this point through our traditions and history, and the best steps to promote ot~r response within a thoroughly Christian and ec-clesial religious life for the future. The Church's renewed call to the dis-covery of uniqueness deserves a serious answer if we value the gifts of God that are our institutes. ~ The Pregnancy The cloistered life within her sends the fire that burns her cheek-- Nature's proud assertion; Life's excited'glow; The insuppressible, open declaration Of yesterday's.creation and tomorrow's warm embrace. A compliant constitution accommodates her child--~ Time's prodigy care~ering toward release From cell to self so he may show his face And state in gurgled language instinctive gratitude. Never more important or more vital to another; ~ Linked by blood and substance in protracted intimacy O~f singular and enviable duration-- A high point in the human testament of love. A legacy for embattled man to learn from-- Acceptance, peace, surrender of one's self, Belief'in time hnd patience that reveals The unfathomable restoration of life's fragments in a soul. Donald DeMarco St. Jerome's College Waterloo, Ontario N2L _3G3 Canada Chapter Delegate" Qualities and R esponsi bi I iti es Robert Morneau Father Morneau is an Instructor of Philosophy at Silver Lake College; Manitowoc, WI 54220~ The significance of general chapters of religious communities cannot be overstressed. The responsibility of providing and sustaining a vision, the challenge to be true to the gospel while preserving the uniqueness of the community's special charism, the mandate to read the signs of the times and yet have a universal sensitivity, all demand diligent work and competent deliberators. This article is an attempt to describe some of the qualifies in-herently crucial to the fulfillment of the above challenges and to specify areas of responsibility following upon election as a delegate to a general chapter. Essentially what is being offered is a job description, a delineation ot~ the functions of a trusted steward, The thesis of this article is that a chapter delegate is called to be a dialogical person, a prophetic person, and a wounded healer.' / Delegate: A Dialogical Person God our Father is a God of revelation. In the precious mystery of his grace, he has chosen to reveal himself and his gracious love to mankind. Throughout history God .has communicated with his people, calling all crea-tion to life and fidelity. As a diaiogical God, he longs to speak his love and forgiveness; he searches out those who will listen and respond to his word. ~The image of wounded healer is taken from Henri J. M. Nouwen's book by the same title. 369 370 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 God has spoken and told us where he is and who he is. We are called to imitate our Father: "Try, then, to imitate God, as children of his that he loves. " (Ep 5: ! ); we do this from one perspective by becoming dialogi-cal persons. Our model is the Father who shares himself with us in word and sacrament. The qualities of a dialogicai person are many; we will limit our con-sideration to three essential attitudes that must be present if authentic com-munication is to happen. The first and perhaps most difficult quality of a dialogical person is listening. Monologues are terribly common in life; empty, one-sided discourses in which no one is listening and probably no one is thinking. Dialogue demands attentive listening, feeling behind the words into the reality being expressed. This type of listening is concerned not with simple, audible comprehension but with a compassionate desire to enter into the world of the speaker to see what has been seen, to hear what has been given. An example of this sensitive listening can be found in Tolstoy's classic War and Peace: He told of these adventures as he had never yet recalled them. He now, as it were, saw a new meaning in all he had gone through. Now that he was tell-ing it all to Natasha he experienced that pleasure which a man has when women listen to him--not clever women who when listening either try to remember what they hear to enrich their minds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adopt it to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their own clever comments prepared in their own little mental workshop--but the pleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select and absorb the very best a man shows of himself. Natasha without knowing it was all attention: she did not lose a word, not a single quiver in Pierre's voice, no look, no twitch of a muscle in his face, nor a single gesture. ~ She caught the unfinished word in its flight and took it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning of all Pierre's mental travail.'-' If a delegate is to truly listen, there must be some degree of interior silence.Turning off the inner engines is difficult and demands discipline, yet so necessary if the message is to be understood and the feelings are to o be appreciated. C. S. Lewis expressed well our dilemma: "Inner silence is for our race a difficult achievement.":' To obtain this silence we must deal with our own fears, insecurities and prejudices. These tendencies block lis-tening, put us into the land of defensiveness and create a sense of being threatened. Secure in our forts, with drawbridge raised and the moat filled with crocodiles, we protect ourselves from new ideas, visions and possibili-ties. Again C. S. Lewis drives home the point: "He could never empty, or silence, his own mind to make room for an alien thought.''~ A chapter dele- "Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, tr. by Louise and Aylmer Maude. (New York, 1942), p. 1241. By permission of the Oxford University Press. :'C. S. Lewis, Perelandra (New York, 1944), p. 140. 4C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York, 1955), p. 184. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 371 gate must listen and discern. Electing a nondialogical person to a chapter is like inviting a deaf person to a concert or taking someone who is blind to an art museum. Neither experience nor growth is possible if essential capaci-ties are lacking~ Listening is essential to dialogue. A second quality of a dialogical person is trust. In an essay written in 1952, Martin Buber stated: "But here is an essential presupposition for all this dialogue: it is necessary to overcome the massive distrust in others and also that in ourselves.''~ If Buber's observation is correct, and there seems to be sufficient evidence to,verify his reflection, we have a lot of growing to do. We must reestablish trust in others and in ourselves. H~opefully, we will gr~aund our trust on the theological fact that God has faith and trust in us. He has given us freedom and intelligence, blessed us with insight and grace. We are his stewards entrusted to do his work in our times. Sensing this, a delegate must come to a radical trust in his own personal insight and conviction. This trust must then be extended to others who are also on the journey searching for truth and goodness. Nothing breaks down communica-tion so quickly as distrust; it hardly pays to initiate a discussion unless there is a solid degree of self-confidence and a climate of confidence in others. Buber, quoting Robert Hutchins, writes: "The essence of the Civiliza-tion of the Dialogue is communication. This presupposes mutual respect and understanding, it does not presuppose agreement.'"; Our trust in self and others must be supplemented with respect and the ability to understand. It would be profitable for delegates to spend some time critically reading Emerson's essay "Self-Reliance" and Howe's The Miracle o[ Dialogue. Desire ]or truth is a third quality of the dialogical person. A longing for insight and perspective characterizes the mind and heart of a truth-seeker. Like an ink blotter, this type of person quickly and completely absorbs truth wherever it presents 'itself. Desire for truth means being in contact with facts (hard data). There is no excuse for ignorance; the homework must be done. Besides researching and interpreting facts, truth demands contact with basic principles, those patterns of meanings which explain and eluci-date reality. Experience and reflection are prerequisites here. Besides dealing with facts and principles, desire for truth calls for the basic disposition mani-festing a willingness to change and grow. Regardless of who speaks a "pagan" philosopher, a formed provincial, a member in one's local commur nity, a poet--the searcher for truth listens and evaluates. So often God is speaking through these and other historical channels. If the search is honest, change will be demanded; certain, pet ~:ategories will be dropped and new ones added (e.g., collegiality) ; treasured prejudices must be let go and open-ness of mind fostered; static, rigid formulations must be reexamined in the :'Martin Buber, "Hope for This Hour;" quoted in Maurice S. Friedman, ed., Pointing the Way (New York, 1974), p. 222. ~;ibid., p. 222. 372 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 light of new research and insight. The process is painful and not without its victims but this is the price of honest discipleship. If a chapter delegate is called to imitate God by being a dialogical per-son characterized by attentive listeniiag, deep trust and a desire for truth, several responsibilities automatically arise. (1) A chapter delegate must be available to the people he represents. The thinking, feeling and life-style of his ~onstituency must be familiar material to the delegate. The duty of being available is not without its price: time and energy, precious and limited commodities, must be sacrificed in fulfilling this obligation. (2) A chapter delegate must be able to make distinctions. Meriol Trevor, in her biography of Cardinal Newman, wrote concerning Ft. Faber: "He would never dis-tinguish between disapproval and dislike; he himself always spoke of hating people who disagreed with him and he could not believe others were differ-ent.'' r This type of person should not be allow~id to be in the arena of policy making. One must be able to know and experience the difference between understanding and agreeing, between a person and an issue, between an idea and its emotive force. Chapters in which such distinctions are consistently made result in community growth and peace. (3) A chapter delegate must be willing to speak during the chapter proceedings. Some eloquent (and not so eloquent) discourses on stairways and in other private areas would be more profitably shared with the. entire group. There 'is no excuse for devastating criticisms made outside the halls of the chapter room and silence reigning within. As a general principle no one should say outside of chapter what he is not willing to say to the whole group. A delegate is mandated to speak out, to take a stance, to express points of view. If this is done with respect and in the spirit of truth, there should be tittle to fear. Merton's insight is helpful: "Ignorance is the parent of fear.''~ Our talk should flow from our study and reflection on life. Delegate: A Prophetic Person Jesus was a prophet. The study of Scripture verifies this fact and. further points out that throughout the Old Testament the Father sent prophets on special missions. Jesus' mission was unique and yet contained the basic in-gredients of those who preceded him: to reveal who the Father was and also to provide the means whereby people might return to the Father. Like Christ, the chapter delegate is missioned. This "being sent" comes through the community and the task flowing from this mission resembles that of all the prophets. The booklet Spiritual Renewal o[ the American Priesthood describes the prophet in these terms: The prophet's function was to perceive the presence or absence of God in situations and to point out the consequences of that presence or absence. A 7Meriol Trevor, Newman: Light in Winter (New York, 1963), p. 86. ,'Sotlrce unknown. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 373 prophet had to know contemporary issues, but even more, he had to be sensi-tive to the mind and will of God.:' In the context of this prophetic role, certain traits clearly emerge that would characterize a chapter delegate. The first of these is sensitivity. This sensitivity must embrace the three sectors of time: the past with its treasures and cultural limitations, the present with its high ideals and ambiguous facts, the future with its plans and realistic hopes. It is possible and often happens in life that we eat but do not taste, read but do not comprehend, listen but do not hear. Historical insensitivity cannot be excused; we must be in touch with our roots and our traditions. Unless carefully nurtured, this sensitivity can be lost. Sensitivity demands that we perceive what is happen- .ing here and now; that we enter in or are caught up by the present moment. This is not just a cognitive apprehension, since it necessarily includes an affective involvement~ The future will be basically meaningless if we do not avoid the tragedy of lost sensitivity written of by Hopkins: Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wear man's smudge and shares man's smell; the soul ls bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.~° It is time once again to take off our shoes/' to be sensitive to our world, to our people, to our deepest self. A sense of reverence, awe and wonder is much needed in our merry-go-round world. Prophets are, of necessity, courageous people. If Emerson is correct in saying that "God will not make himself manifest to cowards,''r-' then the V~rtue of fortitude takes on added importance in fostering the kingdom. Among the courageous people in history, St. Paul has been honored in a special way: ¯ . . But the big courage is the cold-blooded kind, the kind that never lets go even when you're feeling empty inside, and your blood's thin, and there's no kind of fun or profit to be had, and the trouble's not over in an hour or two but lasts for months and years. One of the men here was speaking about that kind, and he called it 'Fortitude.' I reckon fortitude's the biggest thing a man can have--just to go on enduring when there's no guts or heart left in you. Billy h~id' it when he trekked solitary from. Garungoze to the Limpogo with ~This booklet, edited by Gerard Broccolo and Ernest E. Larkin, O. Carm., was pub-lished in 1973 by the Publications Office of the United States Catholic Conference ( 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., WashingtoniDC 20005). ~'~Gerard Manley Hopkins, "God's Grandeur." ~V'Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit around it and pluck blackberries." Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Aurora Leigh." I~Ra!ph Waldo Emerson, "The Over-Soul." 374 / Review lot Religious, ~'olume 36, 1977/3 fever and a broken arm just to show the Portugooses that he wouldn't be downed by them.,But the head man at the job was the Apostle Paul . 1:~ Courage helps us to deal,with two tendencies that permeate human existence: the tendency to fear the unknown and the drive to flee spontaneously from any object of danger. "Fright and flight"14 can block us from experiencing reality to its fullest. Courage enables us ~to stand firm and fight when the situation calls for this type of response; courage enables us to die to our-s~ lves for the sake of life. A delegate, knowing well what happens to most prophets in history, will have to face many dangers and crosses. At times his courage will manifest itself in patient endurance (the most difficult type of courage), while at other times he will be called upon to pounce on evil.1'~ Whatever is not compatible with the gospel must be courageously ques-tioned; whatever is antihuman or subhuman must be diligently removed. Living courage is a great boon to the entire community, not just to the in-dividual exercising that gift. A third trait of the prophetic person, exemplified so clearly in the life of Jesus, is that of vision. A delegate is called upon to have a perspective of what religious life is, to be able to situate in their context contemporary. issues, to sense the interrelationship among such things as prayer, asceticism and the apostolate. The blind cannot lead; only a person with vision can point the way. If a guide has not been to a given territory or if he loses the map which would get him there by carefully reading, he is no longer an asset to the group which relies on him. The delegate without vision con-tributes little in the attempt to provide meaning and direction for the com-munity. Two dangers have always plagued a healthy perspective: myopia and ignorance. The first danger allows one to see, but only to the end of one's nose--not a terribly helpful overview. Ignorance, th~ second danger, can only result in a valley experience even though the voice of the ignorant leader be forceful, and filled with an apparent self-confidence. A number of responsibilities become obligatory for the prophetic dele-gate. (1) A chapter delegate must be informed. Study and researizh will be as necessary and as natural as breathing for such a person. There is no excuse for not being aware of contemporary issues, the movements of our present culture, the meaning and influence of history. The presence or absence of information is relatively easy to detect. (2) If a person is to.be attuned to the mind and heart of God, prayer is necessary. Special emphasis should be placed on scriptural prayer since it is God's word which illuminates our understanding of contemporary issues. If the porters at the chapter doors should bar the uninformed, they should be twice as diligent in barring l:~John Buchan, Mr. Stead[ast; quoted in C. H. Dodd, The Meaning o[ Paul/or Today (London, 1920), p. 7. ~4Rev. Kevin O'Shea, "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Li]e, Spring, 1975. ~sSee the. excellent Thomistic treatment of the virtue of fortitude in Josef Pieper, The Four Cardinal Virtues (Notre Dame, 1966), pp. 117-141. ,Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 375 a person who does not pray faithfully. (3) A chapter delegate should be a person of decision. Newman in his Apologia Pro Vita Sua states: "Certitude is a reflex action; it is to,know that one knows.""; Study and prayer should lead us to this type of certitude which in turn enables us to make serious decisions, even though there will always be some element of risk if not doubt. Another facet in this process of decision making is the,willingness to assume responsibility for the decisions made. Indecisive and irresponsible persons should not be elected to chapters. The duties of being informed, prayerful and decisive are not acquired in a day not even a week. Yet the delegat~ should be growing in each of these areas if the community is to be served well. Delegate: A Wounded Healer Jesus promised that when he had returned to the Father he would send their Spirit. That promise has been realized in all who have come to believe in the Lord. This Spirit is leading all back to the Father through Christ; this Spirit is a Spirit of love, joy and peace. Through the Holy Spirit, heal-ing and reconciliation happens in our world today. A great vision of unity found in Pauline theology becomes a reality to the extent that people are living the life of the Spirit. Yet this vision of unity is premised on the tragic fact and acute awareness that fragmentation permeates creation. Man is divided within himself and separated from his fellow man, his God, and his world. We are a wounded pe~ople, scarred and battered by our own sins and the sins of others. "Everything God has made has a crack in it.'''r Our voca-tion is to make all one in Christ, to reconcile all creation to the Father. The gift of the Spirit dwelling in the Church and in our personal lives enables us to begin this glorious and painful task. The delegate as wounded healer is distinguishable by a sense of deep compassion. Graced with the ability to perceive things from the inside, the compassionate person has a knowledge of the heart and not just of external activity. The secret of the fox18 is undoubtedly correct: "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." Compassion promotes our seeing what is truly significant;.it goes far beyond the inhuman limitations of our sensate culture. So often in Scripture, reference is made to the neces-sity of a new heart.':' God's word urges us to .grow in compassion and empathy. Insensitivity to the hurts and pains of others, even though these may be self-imposed, prevents the building of community. Compassion heals! Hopefully, every deli~gate has had the experience of being healed a6Early in his book Newmah writes, "In the first chapter of this narrative I spoke of certitude as the consequence, divinely intended and enjoined upon us, of the accumula-tive force of certain given reasons which, taken one by one, were only probabilities." lrRalph Waldo Emerson, "Compensation." lSAntoine de Saint Exupery, The Little Prince (New York, 1943). 1:'E.g., Jeremiah 31 : 31-34; Ezechiel 36:24-28. 376 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 through the heartfelt concern of others. Perhaps the task of the doctor applies to all of us: "sometimes to cure, often to alleviate, always to care.''z'' Compassion is care incarnated. The destructive force of nuclear warfare is so obvious that no on.e can deny its effects; less obvious but extremely powerful in the psychological realm is the prevalent killer called judgmentalism. A delegate must be a non~ judgmental person. This does not mean that one ceases making judgments, judgments which at times are sharp and painful. God has blessed us with reason and insight and we must ferret out the truth and the falsity of our lives and the life of the community. We cannot renege on our responsibility to find the truth and to speak it boldly. Judgmentalism, on the other hand, uses the faculty of reason but in an abusive way. Judgments are made, not on dis-cernible consequences, but on motives which cannot be verified. Evidence is wanting, yet persons are judged and insinuations are made. This type of iudgmentalism is characterized by intolerance (a demand that everyone live by my interpretation of religious life), a defensiveness and air of hostility, a lack of warmth and affability. A delegate, therefore, should have a delicate balance between tolerance of persons and intolerance of falsity; between respect for the individual and firmness in sticking to principles; between understanding the human condition and calling each other to growth. We come to realize that without the gift of the Spirit we cannot but fail in this stupendous task. Again we are helped in this area by realizing that we have been blessed in our personal histories with people who have refused to judge and condemn us, who have manifested an infinite patience in allowing us to grow through the stages of personal development. If we have been ~he object of judgmentalism, our experience should forever prevent us from venturing down that road of psychological and spiritual destructiveness. The word of God provides light for our pilgrimage. In the prophet Micah, we are challenged by the Father's woi~d: this is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God.21 The call to justice, charity and faith is clear. Interestingly, spiritual love has the quality of tenderness, a-term which forcefully describes the manner in which we are to reach out to others in concern. It is possible to serve un-willingly, to meet needs because of duty, to heal out of necessity. This is neither sufficient nor healthy in an ultimate sense. God calls us to enter fully and generously into the lives of others. A tender love, a gentle con-cern, a warm respect characterize total love. Underlying this kind of love is the keen realization that human beings are terribly fragile. Indeed, "avalances gather force and crash, unheard, in men as in the mountains." "-'°America, May 1, 1976, p. 377. Paul Ramsey was quoted by the authors. '-'1Micah 6:8. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 377 People with whom we live can be breaking apart inside without our aware-ness; a tender word and radical love can heal so many lives that are on the edge.of despair. A chapter delegate would benefit from reading Fr. Kevin O'Shea, especially his article "Enigma and Tenderness.''~ The chapter delegate, a wounded healer, is challenged to fulfill certain responsibilities in this area. (1) He must ]ace the negative in self, others and the world. A recent Cartoon showed a street cleaner lifting up the edge of a sidewalk under which he swept the city's debris. No healing can take place unless we honestly and courageously face that which is destructive within life. Exploitation and manipulation are too common to be ignored; these must be searched out and dealt with in a reasonable way. (2) He should ]ace the positive in self, community and the world. Just as dangerous as the rug syndrome is the denial of or unwillingness to recognize the vast potential waiting to be actualized in creation. Leadership qualities lie fallow because of fear; intellectual skills remain untapped because of a lack of .challenge; talents stay on shelves for want of affective nutrients. "Our in-tellectual and active powers increase with our affection.'"-':' The truly great person has the vision to perceive the gifts of others~ the truly great person has disciplined productivity and shares his love and life with others. The delegate must perceive and promote the gifts and talents given by the Lord. (3) He should rejoice in life. Nothing heals so quickly as genuine humor and authentic play. Joy is one of the signs of the Spirit's presence. It flows from an awareness of God's personal love and the gift of his life. Consoling Conclusion It is eminently unfair.to demand of a single individual the. multiple qualifications listed in the foregoing pag.es. Who could possibly fulfill the following want-ad posted on the community .bulletin board? WANTED!!! 25 people who are: !) dialogicai persons --who have deep capacity to listen, trust, learn --who are available, discerning, vocal 2) prophetic persons who are --sensitive, courageous, visionary --informed, prayerful, decisive 3) wounded healers who are --compassionate, non-judgmental, tender --realistic, joyful ~20'Shea, op. cit. ~:~Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Friendship." 378 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Although applications might be filled out, no one person could qualify in every area. The first spiritual Olympics are yet to be held. Consolation comes from the fact that chapters are not made up of only one individual. Rather, they a~:e community affairs and the principle of complementarity comes inio play. What one lacks, 6thers have. The above job description is not so much one for individuals as it is for a community. Because of the blessing of pluralism, many communities could easily qualify. Tragic is the election in a community that allows a strong predominance of a single personality type. Once again, it is diversity ttiat leads to life; a di-versity grounded in concern for the kingdom. Beginnings Somewhe.re, in the night I hear you gathering pebbles for tomorrow's task.' Take care to slip a stir amidst the stones you gather; temples hold fast with dreams. Only a locust lurks in the wrinkled meadows, keeping company with the wheat that waits to be reaped by our tears. Together we will meet you at the altar when only the sound of bees will be heard preparing waxen sacrifices for your vacant vigil. Until then, I will be chanting antiphons in tune with your canticles. Sister Carole MacKenthun St. Mary Academy 250 Forest Ave., Lakewood, NI 08701 The "System" Side of Stewardship Gerald R. Amelse Mr. Amelse has been a church finance manager and consultant for sixteen years. He studied Accounting, Business Administration and Economics at The Catholic Univer-sity, the University Of Notre Dame, George Washington University and the University of Maryland. Culrently he is a partner of Calkins-Amelse Associates, which offers management services for non-profit organizations. His office is located at 4531 Pine-crest Heights Drive; Annandale, VA 22003. The widely publicized financial mishaps of several Catholic Church organi-zations in recent years have brought into question the quality of church financial management in general and of financial management in religious congregations in particular. Public attention has tended to focus on the caliber of the financial administrators and advisors involved in these cases rather than on the adequacy of the underlying systems of financial organi-zation, policies .and procedures in each instance. Responsible stewardship can result only when qualified administrators function within an appropriate financial management system. An unsound financial management system; in whole or in part, can be as inimical to responsible stewardship as unquali-fied administrators or advisors. A sound financial management system is equally important for religious congregations because of their changed environment. For several genera-tions, ~religious congregations in the United States enjoyed almost steady growth in membership, resources, activities .and facilities. Now, however, total memberships are static, if not in actual decline; new needs, such as retirem6nt, are making additional claims on already limited resources, and the maintenance of much needed apostolic acti~,itie's and institutions is be-coming increasingly more difficult. Financial management systems developed and used during previous generations may have been adequate in an era 379 380 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 of growth. The present environment, however, requires a system that will improve the ability of a congregation to meet~ increasing internal and apostolic needs with limited and declining resource potential. The exercise of responsible stewardship today calls for clear financial organization, appropriate financial policies, and sound budgeting, account-ing and reporting procedures. Church leaders should be concerned about the adequacy of' their organization's financial management system and anxious to improve it in each of the following areas: Financial Organ&ation A congregation's financial organization is the structure of its formal decision-making positions, the relationships between those positions, and the lines of their accountability. Besides the standard positions (treasurer, controller, and so forth) a congregation's financial organization should also identify the individuals responsible for specific programs, projects, activities and departments, and clearly define their respective roles, relationships and lines of accountability. Lack of clarity in a congregation's financial organi-zation can easily lead to flawed communications, loss of direction, duplica-tion of effort, and wastefulness in the exercise of responsible stewardship. Financial Policies A policy is a definite course or method of action, selected from .among alternatives and in light of given conditions, to guide and determine present and future decisions. Without a comprehensive set of clear financial policies, officials and administrators ~i'e, in effect, more or less free to make financial decisions according to their individual discretion rather than according to previously approved courses of action. The four major sources of financial policies for a religious congregation are: Church law, norms and guidelines; the congregation's own rule and constitution; formal enactments of the congregation,s governing body; and day-to-day operating decisions. It is the responsibility of the congregation's governing body, however, to have a summary of financial policies prepared and periodically to review and approve it. Budgeting The budget is a congregation's principal financial planning tool. The long-range planning aspect of a budget (i.e., two or more years') should identify the congregation's future sources" and uses of funds, project the amounts of revenue anticipated from each identified source and project the amounts of expenditures required for each identified use. The short-range aspect (i.e., month, quarter, year) should detail the estimated ex-penditures for each proposed program, project, activity and department, and itemize the specific means of financing the expenditures. Since the objective of a budget is the development of a financial plan, it The "System" Side o[ Stewardship / 381 is necessary to begin the budgeting process with information about the programs, projects, activities and departments which the congregation is planning for the coming year(s). Information on past performance is an importarit input to the budgeting process, but relying too heavily on ac-counting data and financial reports (which are historical in character) can create the danger that.a congregation's budget will reflect more what has happened in the past rather than what the congregation wants to happen in the future. Clear financial organization is essential for sound budgeting. A budget can not be completely useful as a planning tool until the individuals re-sponsible for each program, project, activity and department have been identified and their responsibility for performance against the plan and budget has been accepted by them. Furthermore, budgets that are prepared without the participation of the persons responsible for directing specific programs, projects, activities and departments are generally weak as plan-ning tools. Program, project, activity and d~epartments heads can not be expected to comprehend fully, agree with or conform to a financial plan in which they did not participate in developing. Accounting ~nd Reporting The financial statements of religious congregations are meant to provide superiors, administrators, members and other interested parties with a mean-ingful summarization of the congregation's overall financial condition as well as the operating results of its programs, projects, activities and ~depart-merits. In order to achieve this purpose more effectively, congregations should introduce both "fund" and "functional" accounting procedures into their basic accounting systems. A fund is a sum of money or other resource, set aside for a specific pur-pose acc~ording to restrictions imposed either by the intent of the donor or" by regulation of the congregation's officials~ Grants, annuities and endow-ments are examples of funds whose uses are restricted by the intent of the donor. A retirement fund is an example of money set aside for a specific purpose by regulation of the congregation's officials. The significant char-acteristic of fund accounting is that it classifies and records the financial transactions within each fund--assets, liabilities, receipts, disbursements and fund balances--according to the specified restrictions. Functional accounting records expenses according to specific programs, projects, activities and departments, and reports this information to the administrators directly responsible for these functions. This procedure im-proves expense control and also provides a practical basis for realistically evaluating the allocation and use of the congregation's limited resources. A congregation could be led' tO revamp its finanEial plans of action when confronted with financial information that enables a comparison of pro-gram, project, activity and department ~osts with their intended results. 3a2 / Review jot Religious, lZolume 36, 1977/3. oaelusion Financial organization, policies and procedures are not the only aspects of responsible stewardship. They are, nonetheless, essential elements of-sound financial management and control. Any congregation that finds its present management system to be somewhat inadequate should obtain qualified assistance to help review and strengthen it wherever necessary. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 Retirement or Vigil by B. Ashley, O.P. .30 The Confessions of Religious Women by St. M. Denis, S.O.S. 30 The Four Moments of Prayer by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 The Healing of Memories by F. Martin .35 The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat by H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 The Teaching Sister in the Church by E. Gambari, S,M.M. .30 The Thepiogy of the Eucharistic Presence by J. Galot, S~J. .30 The Vows and Christian Life by G. Greif, S.J. .30 New Reprints Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet by M. B. Pennington, O.C.S.O . 50 Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Seeks Him .30 Prayer of Personal Reminiscence by D. J. Hassel, S.J. 60 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 No. Gra

Issue 31.3 of the Review for Religious, 1972. ; ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS ANI) A N S\V E R S E 1) ITO R Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editor, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Build-ing; 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 Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of l)ivinity of St. Louis University, 01e editorial offices beihg located at 612 tlumboldt Building; 539 North (;rand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Educalional In';titute. Published bimontbly and copyright © 1972 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. SuBscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year. $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders sbould indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and sbould be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S,A. cur-rency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former addre.~s. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 60 Duluth. Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editori-al correspondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: 612 [lumboldt Building; 539 North (;rand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of tile Questions and Answers editor. MAY 1972 VOLUME 31 NUMBER 3 BENEDICT ASHLEY, O.P. ¯ Retirement or V gil? [ Benedict Ashley, O.P., is Profess6r of Theology at The Institute of Religion and Human " Development; Texas Medical Center; P.O. Box 20569; Houston, Texas 77025.] Retirement and the Work Ethic To provide for the retirement of senior members has bdcome an urgent task for many religious communities. D~clining vocations, risfng medical costs, changes in traditional apostolates and in sources of income demand that we develop new, organized ways to care for those who have reached that last, often lengthy phase of life which we Americans call "retirement." The action of Pope Paul VI in requesting even cardinals and bishops to retire acknowledges that in times of rapid change older persons, for all their expe~'ience and "tested virtue," often lack the energy and flexibility to carry on the apostolate. However reasonable this trend may seem to those long dist~int from the "cut-off point," it is prQducing great anxiety, discontent, . and bitterness in many aging religious. This intensifies the polarization against which many communities now struggle. Recently an elderly but very much alive sister said to me: "What a paradox that our community is how so concerned to give younger sisters free choice¯ of apostolates, while forcing older sisters to retire willy-nilly. I was told to retire last year without any consultation or discussion of my preferences. My only choice, which was no choice at all, was to come to this retirement house. The young are demanding small interpersonal communities. I must live with over a hundred sisters, most of them sick, some completely senile, although my health is good, my mind active, and I like to live with young people, 'where the action is.' " Of course, some communities take great pains to discuss the situation carefully with members who must retire from present apostolates, to give them choices and training for a "second career," or at least maximum opportunities for "semi-activity." They realize that the problem of these religious is, after all, only part of the larger geriatric problem in the United States which will probably increase still further as our national birthrate continues to decline, and the average age of Americans begins to rise. However, I wonder if the very term "retirement" does not reflect the dehumani-zation of our technological society. It is borrowed from the practice of American business and starkly reflects the "work ethic" dominating our culture, against which the counter-culture is rightly protesting. This ethic evaluates human 'worth only in terms of production, organizational efficiency, capacity for marketable innovation. It values "doing and making," but ignores the values of "being," unless they can be translated into commodities. Even without the protests of the .counter-culture, we should know from the gospel that "man does not live by bread alone" (Mt 4:4) and that we have been told "do not be anxious for what you are to eat or wear, because unbelievers are always. running after these things" (Mt 6:31-32). The values of the work ethic are real and ¯ 326 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 are not repudiated by the gospel, but they are .~ternly subordinated to a very different appreciation of what really counts in life. Let us retire the term "retirement," and even "semi-activity." The notion of "a second career" is better, yet it too has a work ethic flavor. Moreover to talk about "second careers" to religious for whom it seems nothing remains of life but suffering, prayer, and gradual decline is to coin another of those horrible euphemisms with which we today in our society of affluence indecently hide the unacknowledged' miseries of neglected poverty and death. We are Christians who ought to have the courage to face the facts of old age with a realism warmed by Christian hope. Trying to wrestle with this fact of life theologically, I have found in the gospel a theme which seems to me very relevant, the notion of vigil. Christian Vigil The current liturgical reform began with the renewal of the Paschal Vigil, called by St. Augustine "the mother of all vigils," because it sums up the expectation of all ages of Christ's victory over death. Its meaning is beautifully stated in the General Instruction bn the Liturgy of the Hours issued by the Holy See in 1971 (nos. 70-2): [St.Augustine writes] "by keeping vigil, we observe that night when the Lord,arose, and by his own flesh began in us that life which knows neither sleep nor death. ; then as we sing together to the risen Lord a little while longer by keeping vigil, he will grant us to reign with him by living forever." Asin the Easter Vigil, the custom soon arose in different churches t6 begin various solemn feasts by keeping vigil, notably in the Birth of the Lord and Pentecost. The Fathers and spiritual writers frequently urged the faithful, especially those who live a contemplative life, to nocturnal prayer, which expresses and fosters our waiting for the Lord?s return: "At midnight someone shouted, 'The groom is here! Come out and greet him!' " (Matthew 25:6); "Keep watch! You do not know when the master of the house is coming; whether at dusk, at midnight, when the cock crows, or at early dawn. Do not let him come suddenly and catch you asleep" (Mark 13:35-36). To implement this idea the Church in its new calendar has not only given the Paschal Vigil the central place in the liturgical year and retained the ~vigils of the Birth of the Lord and of Pentecost, but recommends the use of "Bible vigils" (Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, no. 35), and in the instruction just quoted encourages the use and development of the Office of Readings as a time of vigil, thus preserving the nocturns or night Office of the traditional Breviary. This last recommendation is not only for priests and nuns, but for the laity as well (Instruction, nos. 20-2). These liturgical reforms are rooted deeply in the New Testament. Jesus Himself prepared for the great moments of His life by keeping vigil. For forty days and nights (Mt 4:2) He prayed in the desert before beginning His ministry. Before extending it beyond Capernaum, He went to a "Ion.ely place" (Mk 1: 35) to pray till dawn. Before announcing His inevitable passion, He kept vigil with Peter, James, and John on the mount of transfiguration (Mk 9:1-8). On the eve of the passion He agonized in Gethsemane (Mk 14:32). In their turn the disciples and Mary kept vigil before Pentecost (Acts 1 : 14; 2:2). The newborn Christian community prayed for its leader Peter when he was in prison (Acts 12:5, 12), and before ordaining presbyters (4:23). Paul continued this custom on his missions (16:25). The significance of such vigils was indicated by Jesus Himself in many of His discourses and parables in which He urged his followers to "Watch, for you know Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 327 not the day nor the hour!" (Mt 25:13). If we look at the well-known work of Joachim Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus (rev. ed.; New York: Scribner's, 1963) we notice that he classifies the parables in ten groups: "1. Now is the Day of Salvation; 2. God's Mercy for Sinners; 3. The Great Assurance; 4. The Imminence of Catastrophe; 5. It May Be Too Late; 6. The Challenge of the Hour; 7. Realized Discipleship; 8. The Via Dolorosa and Exaltation of the Son of Man; 9. The Consummation; 10. Parabolic Actions." These very titles indicate how close all these themes are to the vigil concept, although groups 4, 5, and 6 are particularly pertinent. The parables constantly say: "Wake hp! Watch !" When we look at the Epistles we find that Peter and Paul and the others have the same pastoral advice. For example: Stay sober and alert. Your opponent the devil is prowling like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, solid in yo6r faith, realiz!ng that the brotherhood of believers is undergoing the same sufferings throughout the world. The God of all grace, who called you to his everlasting glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish those who have suffered a little while. Dominion be his throughout the ages. Amen (I Pt 5:8-10). Asregards specific times and moments, brothers, we do not need to write you; you know very well that the day of the Lord is coming like a thief in the night. Just when people are saying, "Peace and security," ruin will fall. You are not in the dark, brothers, that the day should catch you off guard, like a thief. No, all of you are children of light and of the day. We belong neither to darkness nor to night; therefore, let us not be asleep like the rest, but awake and sober! Sleepers sleep by night, and drunkards drink by night. We who live by day must be alert (1 Thes 5:1-8). The Theology of the Vigil To discover the the.ological meaning of these New Testament actions and teachings, we must begin with the obvious fact that a vigil is eschatological prayer. It is directed toward the future, toward Christ's victory over sin and death through Resurrection and Ascension, toward the coming of God's kingdom on earth through the mission of His Church, toward the universal transformation of the cosmos at Christ's Second Coming when all things will be summed up in Him in the glory of the Father (Phil 2:9-11 ; Col 1:15-20: Eph 1:18-23). A vigil is expectation in faith, hope, and yearning love directed to the future and eternal life. Its heart is joy, not the joy. of fulfillment, but the bitter-sweet joy of anticipation, a hunger and thirsting for the justice of God's reign. This is why a vigil humanly is a struggle to keep awake, to arouse ourselves from the oppression of drowsiness. The Apostles could not keep awake with Jesus in the Garden, because although "the spirit is willing, the .flesh is weak" (Mt 26:41). Luke says they slept because they were "exhausted with grief" (22:45). The weariness, discouragement, apathy, the numbing dread of waiting! Who has not waited in fear in a doctor's office? Waiting can be still more dreadful when we wait for some great joy, in growing doubt that it will ever come. During such painful times we all seek to escape the tension, to drug ourselves with some empty distraction or even sleep and forgetfulness. It is against this spiritual sleep that Jesus warns us. We must live in active hope, in wide-awake awareness, because in truth Jesus has already come. God is already present in our world if our eyes of faith are wide-open to sense His presence. The symbolism of "watching in the night" is simple and profound. This "night" is the world in the Johannine sense: "He was in the world, and through him the world was made, yet the world did not know who he was" (Jn 1 : 10). The world is humanity not in its earthliness or secularity, but in its hard-heartedness, self-centeredness, self-righteous pride and aggression which blind it to the present LOrd: 328 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 "Men loved darkness rather than the light, because their deeds were wicked" (Jn 3:19). It is in this night where God is present but man is absent from Him, in this shadow of death, that the Christian lives by faith and hope. Another element of the symbolism of the vigil is the silence, when the rush of activities, the vanity of human plans and boasted accomplishments, the flood of sights and sounds advertising expensive but delusive pleasures, conceal from us the reality of the void, the desert of human despair. Existentialism has revived for us this aspect of vigil, the search for authenticity. The Christian enters the desert of silence not to escape, but driven by the Holy Spirit to confront the Evil Spirit as Jesus was (Mk 1:12-3). Night has its peace and cessation from exterior work, but it is also the time of spiritual combat with angels, both evil and good. Tobiah struggled with an evil spirit and came out whole (Tobit 8); and Jacob with a good one, but was crippled (Gen 32:23-33). Night is man's encounter with the hidden levels of his personality and with the subtle cosmic influences that profoundly affect his life, yet which are covered over by his day-time activities. Watching, therefore, is not a mere passive waiting, but an active preparation, struggle, reflection, purgation, integration, simplification of life, requiring the use of the deepest human energies, it is an activity not at the periphery of human life where most of our "doing and making" take place, but in the central abyss of our being. Again, because it is eschatological, a vigil is also a time of judgment. Many of the Psalms speak of this nocturnal examination of conscience: 1 am wearied by sighing: every night I flood my bed with weeping. I drench my couch with my tears; My eyes are dimmed with sorrow. They have aged because of all my foes (Ps 6:7-8). I bless the Lord who counsels me; even in the night my heart exhorts me (16:7). i will remember you upon my couch, and through the night-watches I will meditate on you (63:7). By night my hands are stretched out with flagging; my soul refuses comfort. When l remember God, I moan; when i ponder, my spirit grows faint. You keep my eyes watchful: I am troubled and i cannot speak. I consider the days of old; the years long past I remember. In the night I meditate in my heart; [ ponder, and my spirit broods. "Will the Lord reject forever and nevermore be favorable?" (77:4-8). In a vigil we face ourselves in truth, we accept the punishment of remorse, we are freed from the burden of illusions. Even when our conscience does not reproach us, we come to understand that we are children of Adam, part of the inhuman race of men. Yet as Christians we do not come to judgment so much in fear as in petitiqn to be healed. Purgatory begins for us, a merciful cleansing through hope and longing, because a vigil is penitential, expiatory, redemptive. This is not because God exacts a payment for sin (it is only the unjust steward who thought God a hard master), but because He requires us to share in the work of repairing the damage we have done to others and to ourselves. "God's glory is man fully alive," as St. Irenaeus said, and the restoration of God's glory by penance is nothing other than the healing of man and of the broken relations between men by forgiveness. How does a vigil repair the human world? It does so first by healing the watcher himself, since in this purgatory he learns to forgive others and to lay down .the burden of his own follies. But a vigil is also communal. It is a time when together, at least in spirit, we pray for one another and share one another's burden of guilt and sorrow. Today, some people think prayer is only an excuse not to help others Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 329 through action, but even after we act we may find that our neighbor is still alienated from us by hidden barriers that nothing but prayer can ever pierce. Furthermore, a vigil is communal because it is a witness. Who has not been strengthened to know that another watches in prayer for him with a love that is ever awake? A vigil also always implies the coming dawn, the Resurrection, the rising Sun of Justice. At the heart of the vigil is the well fueled lamp of love, as Jesus indicated in the Parable of the Ten Virgins. He also asked: "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?" (Lk 18:8). Matthew speaks of "charity" (24-12). The greatest human prdblem is to persevere in faithful love, a love that increases until the kingdom of God kindles like a consuming fire (Lk 12:49). This silently burning light in the night vigil is a fire stronger than the waters of death: "For stern as death is love, relentless as the grave in its devotion; its flames are a blazing fire" (Song of Songs8:6). The Paschal fire is the liturgical symbol of this "living flame of love," which John of the Cross and all the mystics tell us begins to burn in the dark night of the spirit. The Psychology of Later Life Recent developments in developmental ego-psychology, exemplified in the work of Erik Erikson, show us that the phases of human life all have or can have a positive meaning, including old age. It will suffice here to quote a passage from Erikson's Identity: Youth and Crisis (New York: Norton, 1968, pp. 139-40): In the aging person who has taken care of things and people and has adapted himself to the triumphs and disappointments of being, by necessity, the originator of others and the generator of things and ideas - only in him the fruit of the seven stages gradually ripens. I know no better word for it than integrity. Lacking a clear definition, I shall point to a few attributes of this stage of mind. It is the ego's accrued assurance of its proclivity for order and meaning - an emotional integration faithful to the image-bearers of the past and ready to take, and eventually to renounce, leadership in the present. It is the acceptance of one's one and only life cycle and of the people who have become significant to it as something that had to be and that, by necessity; permitted of no substitutions. It thus means a new and different love of one's parents, free of the wish that they should have been different, and an acceptance of the fact that one's life is one's own responsibility. It is a sense of comradeship with men and women of distant times and of different pursuits who have created orders and objects and sayings conveying human dignity and love. A meaningfulold age, then, preceding a possible terminal senility, serves the need for that integrated heritage which gives indispensable perspective to the life cycle. Strength here takes the form of that detached yet active concern with life bounded by death, which we call ~wisdom in its many connotations from ripened "wits" to accumulated knowledge, mature judgment, and inclusive understanding. Not that each man can evolve wisdom for himself. For most, a living tradition provides the essence of it. But the end of the cycle also evokes "ultimate concerns" for what chance man may have to transcend the limitations of his identity and his often tragic or bitterly tragicomic engagement in his one and only life cycle within the sequence of generations. Yet great philosophical and religious systems dealing with ultimate individuation seem to have remained responsibly related to the cultures and civilizations of their times. Seeking trans-cendence by renunciation, they yet remain ethically concerned with the "maintenance of the ¯ world." By the same token, a civilization can be measured by the meaning which it gives to the full cycle of life, for such meaning, or the lack of it, cannot fail to reach into the beginning of the next generation, and thus into the chances of others to meet ultimate questions with some clarity and strength. Erikson points out that this achievement of integrity implies that the person has the courage to retain his own individuality and life style even in the face of changing times: Forheknowsthat an individual life is the coincidence of but one life cycle with but one 330 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/3 segment of history, and that for him all human integrity stands and fails with the one style of integrity of which he partakes (p. 140). He also points out that when old age is not used positively, it will end negatively in disgust and despair: Such a despair, is often hidden behind a show of disgust, a misanthropy, or chronic contemptuous displeasure with particular institutions and particular people - a disgust and a displeasure which, where not allied with the vision of a superior life, only signify the individual's contempt of himself (ibid.) From a Christian point of view, therefore, the period of vigil for the Lord's Coming is a precious gift. It is not merely for the aged, but is a feature of every Christian life. All of us, young and old, must have some vigil in our life, some time of reflection, purification, integration. It should begin early, so that old age will only be its culmination and intensification. It is not something separated from active life but is rather a harvest time in which the fruit of experience ~is reaped, assimilated, and made part of our total personality. The Paschal mystery means for us that although this world and its life must pass, yet nothing experienced here in faith will ever be lost, no genuine tie in love will ever be severed. In Christ our life will be summed up, "recapitulated," and transformed in the eternal life of the Trinity. Death is not a closing in of the horizon, but an opening on an ever wider vista - a narrow door that opens on an expanding landscape. The end of the film 2001: A Space Odyssey is one way of saying it. Therefore, the vigil time of life is not just "waiting to die," but is a process of integration in which we "get it all together," discovering in all that we have done and suffered an inner core of meaning. Moreover, we have the obligation of letting others who are in the midst or the beginning of life know there is meaning to what seems to them a mad scramble, a rat-race. The generation gap can never be closed in time, because the wisdom of experience cannot be expressed in the language of inexperience. Yet something can be communicated and must be communicated to the young, and that is hope. Only those seniors who have achieved peace, and who prove it by letting the young live their own lives, are able to give a truly credible sign of hope. The Apostolate of Vigil In view of this psychological and theological meaning of vigil and of later life as a time of vigil, it seems to me that we can frame a better practical understanding of the so-called "retirement problem." (1) In order to obliterate the "retirement" idea, I think we should institute both in name and fact a new apostolate in our communities, the Apostolate of Vigil. It is a genuine apostolate in the wider sense in which traditionally the contemplative life was considered the supreme apostolate, because contemplatives perform a special service of intercessary prayer, reparation, and witness to the transcendent, eschato-logical goals of the Christian life. Lately, active communities are recognizing this need by establishing "houses of prayer." It seems to me that the notion of "vigil" adds to the concept of "prayer" that "thrust into the future" which is so necessary to our time that suffers from "future shock" and "existential despair:" The work of this apostolate consists in several related elements: (a) Reflection. Erikson's emphasis on old age as a time of integration indicates that those in the apostolate of vigil must give themselves seriously to reflection. In a recent movie Kotch, Walter Matthau brilliantly portrays a retired business man who annoys everyone by his constant, apparently disconnected garrulity. Yet as we Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 331 listen to him, we see that he is still a mentally very active man, more alert ~han his rather stupid son and daughter-in-law. He is reflecting over his reading, his life, his successes and failures, and is distilling real wisdom from them. He looks at life with a tolerant yet discerning eye. He contemplates its beauty with delight and tries to express it in language that has its real poetry. But no one listens. On tlie other hand, another movie, 1 Never Sang for My Father, shows the tragedy of another elderly "successful" business man who cannot find the clue to the real meaning of his life, but endlessly moves in the circle o~ the old, bitter thoughts of his rejected youth. Some of our attempts at community dialogue have left the old silent, because we are always talking about the future. Perhaps we should try to have some times of discussion devoted to the needs of the senior members to talk about their past. (b) Prayer. This should not only be intercessory and reparative, as I have already indicated, but also a prayer of praise and thanksgiving. If we need time to "make a thanksgiving" after Holy Communion, don't we also need time to give thanks for the banquet of life? Undoubtedly older religious will want to continue the forms of prayer which have formed the basis of their lives, and, as Erikson says in the quotation above, this is a part of their personal integrity. At the same time, they may welcome the opportunity to deepen these accustomed forms of prayer if they are given opportunities for better theological.and liturgical instruction on the values which they contain. A prayer group made up of older priests, with which I am acquainted, is finding the new "Liturgy of the Hours" a delight. It retains the basic elements of the older "Divine Office" but in a form which makes recitation more meditative and leisurely. (c) Counsel. This is a difficult point which requires a good deal of study and experimentation. In traditional societies the elders were the counselors, yet today it is argued by Margaret Mead and others that the young really have more experience than their seniors. Furthermore, it is said that elderly counselors incline to an authoritarian moralism that is contrary to the non-directive methods of modern counseling. On the other hand it is certainly true that some older people have real assets as counselors. They have time to listen, a broad sympathy based on their own self-knowledge and the experience of human struggle, and a calm, hopeful attitude, sceptical of facile solutions, yet free of pani~ about the crises of life. There is no reason that such persons cannot still learn to improve their technique as.counselors if given some additional training and supervision, Their tendency to moralize or over-direct is more a result of their desire to help, than an incapacity to learn a more psychological approach. I suggest that while not all older people will make good counse.lors, many will if.given some additional training. (d) Suffering. The physical and mental decline of later life tends to become the focus of many wasted days and years, unless this suffering is understood as an element of Christian experience not merely to be endured but to be used creatively. The Cross is a means of integration and fulfillment, as it was for Jesus who said: "It is completed" (Jn 19:.30). To make this suffering a spiritual resource, however, requires spiritual guidance and support. In Gethsemane Jesus was strengthened by an angel (Lk 22:43). The flagging energies of the sick and aged make it difficult for them to exert themselves to prayer. They can relapse into a routine of gradual decline and apathy. Consequently, it is important to help them use the energies they have to grow personally. (e) Small Services. Today religious orders rightly seek to free themselves from wasting their energies on "trivialities." Nevertheless, we need to realize that nothing 332 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 humanizes our lives so much as the small personal services that make us feel loved and that free us from details for more creative work. In any religious community its life and its apostolate can be immensely aided by persons who have the time, the tact, the humility to render some of these small services either within the community circle or as a feature of particular external apostolates. For example, how much a really good receptionist contributes to the work of any organization! Jesus spoke of the "cup of cold water only" given in His name (Mt 10:42) and of the "widow'smite"(Mk 12:41-4) to indicate the dignity and beauty of such small services given in love. They exemplify the first beatitude of poverty of spirit. (f) Hope. The culminating task of the Apostolate of Vigil is the witness of genuine hope, free of "future shock," of gloom, of cynicism, or panic. We need only to think of the example given the Church and the world by the aged John XXlII to realize what a rainbow sign (Gen 9:11-7) this witness of hope can be, giving life and renewal to the whole community. (2) A second step we need to take is to make clear that this Apostolate of Vigil is not exclusively for the old, but an option for all religious at any age, as a permanent or temporary apostolate. There are young and middle-aged religious who will find that their charism is more contemplative than active, or that at least for certain periods of their life they need to '~be" rather than to "do or make." We should ¯ make clear also that age does not automatically qualify a person for this apostolate, or make it his or her single choice. Some senior religious will still find themselves more inclined to a "second career" or to "semi-activity" and should be given this option if it is at all a realistic choice. Finally, we should avoid identifying this apostolate with the problem of residence. It is true that the "villa" may be one center of such an apostolate, but some religious will prefer to carry it on in houses of prayer or active communities. (3) Since this apostolate requires special qualifications other than mere age, it also requires proper training, facilities, and evaluation, exactly as any other apostolate. When a religious is considering choosing it, he or she should discuss the matter with a qualified counselor. The community itself should have definite plans for developing, evaluating~ and revising this apostolate in the formation of which theological, liturgical, psychological, and medical expertise should be used. (4) Finally, proper recognition should be given to those who sincerely engage in this apostolate, so that they know and feel that they truly contribute to the community's life and work. One form of recognition is, of course, a clear financial arrangement by which it is apparent to all that persons in this apostolate are not a "burden" to the community but an asset. This is no mere legal fiction because: (a) This apostolate is a fundamental service to the Church and the world which every religious community has the obligation to provide in some form or other. (b) In actual fact a great part of the free gifts made to any religious community come because the laity look to the assistance of that community's prayer and penance. (c) Religious by their contributed services in their years of "active apostolate" have certainly invested enough in the community to deserve in justice the opportunity to engage in the Apostolate of Vigil if they choose. Some communities solve this problem by paying each local community of which the religious is a member a regular monthly salary as her contribution to its financial upkeep. An Obvious Objection An honest doubt about the idea I have outlined naturally arises. How can we speak of an apostolate for a really senile person who has lost memory, emotional Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 333 control, clarity of mind and purpose? What of those who really are "just waiting to die," living only on a vegetative, custodial level? I can only suggest two points for reflection: (1) Today certain psychologists and some young thinkers of the counter culture are raising sharp questions about the way our work ethic culture tends to define "mental incapacity" or "mental illness." They point out that in many cultures persons we label as "crazy" or "mentally defective" are considered "wise," "prophetic," or "sacred." Jesus spoke of the wisdom of the child, and St. Paul of the wisdom of those whom the world calls fools. St. Luke pictures those two ancient prophets, Simeon and Anna, who alone recognized the Messiah. I certainly would not subscribe to overromantic ideas about the wisdom of the senile, but I do not think that we should identify the value of human personality with the well-being of the brain. The senile person can still be capable of faith, hope, and charity. The process of spiritual purgation and integration which goes on in later life no doubt can reach its completion even when life has reached its ebb tide. (2) In any case our real problem is not the extremely senile patient for whom nothing remains but custodial care. We will give that care gladly and it raises no great puzzles. The real geriatric problems are the much larger number of religious who are still very much alive, perhaps with many years ahead of them. We must help them live these years as a vigil of hope, of effective prayer for the Lord's Coming and for the establishment of His kingdom on our earth. DAVID A. FLEMING, S.M. Formation and the Discovery of Identity [David A. Fleming, S.M., is a faculty member of Marianist Seholastieate; 2700 Cincinnati Avenue; San Antonio, Texas 78284.1 People in formation today tend to feel uncomfortably like bridges. At one end they cling to the solid but sometimes arid rock of a tradition, while at the other they try to find some footing in the shifting sands of new styles of life and experience. Meanwhile they often feel that people are walking all over them from both directions and fighting their battles on top of them, while they themselves look down at the gaping abyss beneath. Luckily, though, many of us like being bridges, despite the discomforts involved, and we feel that the attempt to reach across the gap is more than worth the effort. Our problem, our sense of battles and abysses, is, 1 think, related to a major cultural shift in the understanding and expression of religious values. This shift became an experiential reality for me not too long ago one evening when I attended two parties in religious communities, one - frequented by older members - celebrating the jubilee 9f a much respected member of my province, and the other a community party in a house of formation celebrating the end of a semester. It struck me very forcibly that what I was doing was observing the ways in which two distinct cultures celebrate. To attempt to summarize cultural differences is a risky undertaking. No one is ever satisfied by someone from the outside attempting to sum up basic commit-ments and ways of seeing. And, of course, none of us is ever or should ever be completely "outside"; our summaries are inevitably colored by our own commit-ments and viewpoints. But if we are to talk meaningfully of the situation in which the person involved in formation finds himself today, it is necessary at least to draw up a schematized and admittedly unnuanced outline of the very real contrasts that govern our situation. By culture I mean simply the sum-total of the social values, ways of thinking, means of expressing human relationships, and habits of life shared by a whole group of people (whether tribes in Africa, villages in France, or social groupings in America). At the two parties I recognized two contrasting ways of celebrating, two approaches to festivity. The older party was characterized by a happy convention-ality. People told the old jokes and sang the old songs, reminisced about the way things used to be, shared common memories about the persons and mores of a true but somewhat idealized past. The younger one was colored by creative expression (new skits, new games and ideas) and fantasy (making up new stories and new songs). At both parties, there was much sharing of laughter at things normally taken very seriously. The cultural differences are not restricted, of course, to behavior at parties. The two groups' means of expressing values are notably different. Both are preoccupied with fidelity, but the older group stresses fidelity to an established role, believing Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 335 that a man's true fulfillment and the greatest service he can give lie in being as faithfully and totally and interiorly as possible what he is called to be by the work assigned to him: a good teacher, pastor, cook, or whatever. For the younger group fidelity means, above all, a continuous search to discover and live out what is one's own unique contribution. True fulfillment for this younger group means the discovery of self, which will then lead to a service to society which may or may not correspond to any pre-established role. The older group stresses perseverance in holding to the role that is given, while the younger group stresses honesty with oneself, even though that honesty may not lead very quickly to stability. The older group sees forgetfulness of self and modesty as prime virtues for relating with others, while the younger group stresses openness, the willingness to let oneself be influenced by the thought and action of the other. The older group stresses the necessity for each individual to stick to what he thinks is right, no matter what social pressures he may be subjected to. The younger one feels that communion with the group is a prime value; although he too knows how to withstand social pressures, they prompt him more quickly to re-examine his position, rather than stiffen his resistance to corruption. The older group speaks much about preserving and enriching a tradition that comes out of the past, while the younger one is more oriented towards building a future that may or may not spring very obviously from the past. The experienced seek a carefully limited, realistic, but wholehearted commitment to the goals they have accepted. This approach seems narrow to the young; fascinated by a multiplicity of goods, they tend rather to become overcommitted to too many things, while at the same time being only partially committed to any one of them. The patterns of thought of the two groups are also quite diverse. For the older, truth is to be achieved above all by method, by a disciplined and patterned application of long-tested paradigms; for the young it is to be sought in dialectic, in conversation and interchange, more by group experience than by individual reflection. The older person wants someone to give him answers to his questions; the younger one simply looks for a person to share the process of discovery. The older man has been educated more in a rhetorical tradition that takes a position asa given and then finds all the supporting reasons and arguments; the younger man's education has increasingly stressed a heuristics that is concerned above all with the search for the position that is (existentially) true. For the older man, knowledge tends more to be a possession (the kind of knowledge denoted by the French verb (savoir), something that is dominated, assimilated, and put to profitable use. For the younger man it tends to be a mode of being-related (conna~tre), a personal or quasi-personal communion. The older man looks in his thinking for stability and attempts to stick to the essence of things; the younger man is taken up with the process and is unimpressed by thinking that relies on stable effsences. Discursive thinking and logic tend to be the natural realm of'the older man; symbol thinking, poetry, and art, that of the younger. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the ways of relating to people and forming friendships differ between the two groups. The way to an older man's heart is to work together with him at a common project perceived as meaningful. The way to a younger man's heart is to listen to him creatively, to share one's own experiences - a process of much dialogue and many hours of deep conversation. Obviously this outline of the two approaches is quite schematized, and most of us - old or young - are somewhere in-between. The purpose of this rather cavalier summary and contrast has been to point up that the two approaches exist (although 336 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 hardly ever in a "pure" state), that they are, in fact, very different - a difference such as has not often been experienced between any two successive generations in human history - and to intimate, by expressing the values of each in a positive way, that both approaches are very open to living the message of the gospel. It is evident that we have two contrasting ways of being faithful, and we who work in the formation of young religious find ourselves very much in a mediatorial, reconciliational role between them. Our role in this cultural situation is, I believe, best conceptualized today as being of service to individuals and communities in the discovery of an identity. Our most obvious task is to aid the indivMual in developing a social identity with the concrete group which he or she is in the process of joining. Because of the cultural crossroads where we find ourselves at this point in history, however, it is unrealistic to reduce the whole of our role to "socialization" within a given congregation. Neither the individual nor the life of the group can remain static, and a true commitment to the group can happen only as the individual finds within the group a true aid to releasing his own creative potential and an increasingly rich field for expressing that potential. A person can develop an identity with a group only on the basis of a strong personal identity, and. strong personal identity can be developed, paradoxic-ally, only in an interplay with a social group. The person working in formation must therefore deal with both poles of identity - the group and the personal. Hence a second, by no means subordinate, part of our role is to be of service to the young person who comes to us in the absorbing work of his own personal search for identity. Formation people, though they tend. to be "generalists" rather than specialists, should, if anything, be specialists in "human development." Although we should only begin working with young people who have already developed a fairly advanced degree of security, self-identity, and clear-headedness, their entry into religious life, at whatever age, is always part of a search for personal identity and identity within society, and we must be prepared to be of service in that extremely personal search. Given the state of constant evolution in which we more and more consciously find ourselves, the first aspect mentioned above, that of identification with or true membership in the order or congregation can no longer be conceived at any level as identification with a status quo. Commitment to religious life today means rather a commitment to God working in a concrete group of people who are pledged to grow and evolve together, to share the consequences of their lives and decisions. Membership means the willingness to keep growing together, to keep sharing consequences, and to let others within the group continue to influence our lives. Joining religious life is less a flight into a specific desert (for deserts can become rather comfortable, as full of fleshpots as any Egyptian oasis) than a going on pilgrimage together, a common movement toward the God who speaks in our lives and calls us forward through history. Religious life, if it is to give its most telling witness to mankind today, must become (as Schillebeeckx has put it) a '~sacrament of dialogue," a living sign, open and visible to men, of the fact that people can live together and share the search for God's concrete will for them in the present, and that this common search can become a fascinating, absorbing, and fulfilling life project. If we view religious life in this dynamic, search-centered way, it becomes increasingly evident that formation must involve a great deal of contact between the candidates and the experienced members. A decision to throw in one's lot with a given order or congregation can be made only on the basis of knowing and Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 337 experiencing the sacrament of dialogue as it really is. Isolated formation houses no longer fill the need, at least not for the totality of the period of basic formation. They were viable in a day when the problem of formation was simply that of taking on an accepted and rather standardized culture. They are good at providing the deeply spiritual motivation that is alone adequate to sustain a person in the challenges which the communal search for God demands. But they do not give an experience of the communal search to which the community as a whole is pledging itself. They rather give another experience - that of a group of peers struggling with commitment together - an experience which will happen anyway, with or without an isolated house of formation, and one that can too easily create a kind of sub-culture, spiritually and emotionally alienated from the group as a whole. They accentuate cultural differences, rather than helping all - young and old -go beyond them to a deeper unity. Identification with the group is complicated today by the problem that many of us are in fact probably better at being of service to personal growth than at helping develop social roles. We tend to have some competence in psychology, none at all in sociology. Yet as each individual grows personally, he becomes more conscious of his unique contributions and personal richness, and he usually discovers the fact that there are no ready-made social roles into which he can easily fit. Because of the rapid change in our society, many of the traditional service roles which religious have filled (teaching, nursing, pastoral work) are themselves in search of an identity, and many religious want to alter these service roles in significant ways. In this crucial area of both personal and community growth, it is above all important that as much of the whole community as possible be involved in developing and living with social roles. Our own personal identity, that of our younger members, and that of the order or congregation as a whole are inextricably entangled. They can either enrich or discourage one another. Rather than a pledge to adopt unquestioningly a given service'role, a commitment today means a pledge to share in mutual growth as we reexamine our traditional service roles. In turning to the question of our service in the area of each one's personal quest for identity, we will find it helpful first to consider the psychological characteristics of the typical young person with whom we have to deal today, his problems and prospects. The most striking strength of the typical candidate we meet today is his sensitivity. Impressionable, responsive to friendship, and anxious to give a service that is personally perceived, he is capable of developing a pers6nality that will be richly responsive to people. The weakness of our candidate is the typical weakness of a sensitive person. He is quite unsure of himself, uncertain of the best way to respond to the heavy pressures of the experience in which he becomes so deeply involved. He does not take all kinds of values, ways of acting and thinking, for granted. He has grown up in a scattered, fragmented world, and he has not yet had the time and the experience to build up a very firm personal stance - a coherent and well-articulated system of values, beliefs, and ways of acting. Because of his own insecurity and his sensitivity to influences, he tends to waver from position to position with what (for us) seems like astonishing rapidity. Growing up in a period when informational input has been reaching and surpassing overload capacity, our candidate has become aware of far more than we knew at his age, but he has simply not had the stabilizing and strengthening influence that we now enjoy nor even the stabilizing influence that we had at the same stage of our own growth. Hence he is very cautious about taking stands. He wants to continue to be "open" to experience, and he does not want to close too many doors too fast. He has come to 338 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 religious life because he is struggling for an identity that is out of the normal; he will not be satisfied with the ready-made roles which society presents so per-suasively to him. Hence he is, in his own peculiar way, cautious about making commitments, and he wavers through many possibilities before finally determining upon one. Our candidate's experience of the past twenty years has taught him that institutions and ideologies fall with great regularity, and that those who build their lives upon them do not survive. What he can perhaps trust is people. He is person-oriented, deeply conscious of his need for friends. He may find trust difficult; but once he has achieved it, he easily becomes dependent, and he is unashamed of finding strength in the support of his friends. He .is less concerned with building an institution, or an ideology than a friendship. He frequently seems to us to have an "affective" problem. His needs are enormous (or so it seems for those of us who have not lived through his cultural experience) in the area of personal friendship and support. He tends to think that the satisfaction of these needs will solve all his problems in life. He can easily be moved, even manipulated (and here we must be careful to respect his person), by motives of personal friendship, less easily by other motivations. In helping our candidate in his search for identity, we are often tempted to solve his problem for him, to shower on him the rich fruits of our own experience and expect him to respond with profound gratitude. Actually though, the nature of his problems (perhaps the nature of all human problems) is such that only he can solve them. Only he can discover and create an identity for himself. Our genuine help can be in sharing the process of discovery with him; in asking sensitive, helpful, but challenging questions; in sharing, but in a non-coercive way, something of our own search and some of its outcomes. In her fascinating little book Culture and Commitment, Margaret Mead has pointed out that the days of the "postfigurative culture" (the one in which the adults are supposed to have answered all questions and to provide a reproducible pattern for the young to imitate with exactitude) are gone. She believes that we are in a "cofigurative culture," one in which everyone, both young and old, determine the solutions to their problems and the answers to their questions by learning from their peers, with the danger of never being able to open up to an experience that is foreign to them. Our future lies, she believes, in a "prefigurative culture," one in which different age-groups and people with quite different experience can work together in the process of discovering new answers. Youth can contribute the special wisdom of its sensitivity, lack of complacency, and pertinent questioning; experience can enrich the dialogue by sharing, in a genuine search, some of the answers and guideposts it has met on its pilgrimage. Even though many of us still like to think we are quite young, we are on the side of "experience" when it comes to formation. The best that we can do for our candidate is engage in an intelligent, open, ongoing dialogue with him. One of the major problem arias that this dialogue will have to confront is that of authority, freedom, and independence. Because of our typical candidate's lack of security and wavering personal identity, he can become very dependent. He can mistakenly think that he has solved his identity problem by patterning his life after a respected elder. Thus he may be, in the judgment of many, a "model religious" for a time, until he discovers that what he was trying to be was not really himself. When the dependence has been considerable, especially when it has begun at an early stage of maturity and resulted in a rather far-reaching superego acceptance of Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 339 norms that are not internalized (an inauthentic identity plastered on from the outside), the young person, if he is healthy, will sooner or later rebel against the artificiality. More or less intensely and for a longer or shorter time, he will rej6ct much of his past experience, what he might call the "system" of religious life, the structures which characterize it, and possibly even some of the people, especially those with whom he has most closely identified. This rejection will be all the stronger if it is the first significa.nt one, if it has not already taken place in regard to home and parents, for it seems to be an almost inevitable part of growing up in the tensions of present-day society. In this area we need, therefore, to be especially careful. Most of us tend, like the generality of human beings, to be over-protective. We enjoy having someone a bit dependent on us. It is, in fact, a beautiful experience of spiritual fatherhood or motherhood, but it is not something which we, as celibate persons, can cling to. At this point a caution against "overcounseling" deserves special attention. Even though the ongoing dialogue is, I am convinced, of the essence of our task, it is sometimes possible to use counseling as a means of manipulating the young person's emotions, of forcing a growth for which he is not yet ready, of protecting him from learning by experience, and of re-enforcing the tendency toward dependence rather than helping him achieve freedom and self-actualization. Recognizing and accepting the psychodynamics of rejection enables us to maintain enough distance to be helpful rather than compound the problem. But this recognition should not lead us to discount the criticisms of the young person. The period of rejection may be a very special occasion for surfacing some real and deep-going problems, and it may point out some genuine weaknesses of our structures, our demands, and our means of formation. Creative listening and discernment of spirits at this critical juncture may be painful, but it may also help us see the )/bung person far more clearly and truly than ever before, and it may in turn reveal to us some of the deepest-penetrating dynamics of our own interaction. In working through this critical state, many young people come to the conviction that religious life is not what they want, that it does not correspond to the authentic identity which they. finally see themselves developing. They may often seem wrong, and we may sometimes realize better than they that their decision is simply part of the rejection process. At best we can keep it from becoming a particularly bitter or scarring part. Nevertheless, some of the most painful decisions we have to face come at this critical period. It is the strains and stresses of this period that especially urge the wisdom of taking candidates at an older, more mature period, since the strength of the rejection is more or less directly in proportion to the levels of inauthenticity and false docility that have to be uncovered and the depth with which the false super-ego identity has penetrated the person. But° we must ask ourselves whether our tendency to defer entrance is in each case a matter of prudence or pusillanimity. The dynamics of identity growth happen in late adolescence in a never-to-be-repeated fashion. The period can be so painful precisely because it is a time of so much growth. Many can develop a true personal i~lentity as religious if we can work sympathetically and understandingly with them through this difficult period. Once the person has passed this crisis, he usually begins to experience the need for building again, for discovery of means to live his religious commitment that correspond to his new found, more authentic self. For example, he will often reject prayer structures at one point only to find himself later, but more genuinely, seeking again to find true means to express his prayerful attachment to God, in 340 Review fog Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 concert with the community. The end result can be very creative - but oniy, of course, if we know how to keep concerns and realities alive without stifling the individual's periods of docility, rejection, and new growth. Our best role, throughout the whole process, I am convinced, is to engage in an ongoing dialogue with the person, to serve as one who can sympathetically share the process, avoiding as much as possible the danger of becoming an object of too great dependence and thus the eventual target of rebellion. Our most useful help will be to aid the young person to handle his dependence, his rebellion, and his new, more authentic independence, to help him find his true place within life and especially within our congregation. We can facilitate the search; we cannot do the discovering for him. The lines between dependence, independence, helpful ques-tioning, and coercive probing are so delicate at this period and so different for each individual that we must face the fact that we will sometimes succeed and sometimes fail. That is part of the joy and suffering of our mission. Another major problem area that we must face in our ongoing dialogue with our candidates is that of psychosexual identity. Here I am of course thinking more than ever in a male context, and those who work with women must make whatever applications they find appropriate. The problem seems to be somewhat different for them. At any rate, our typical male candidate today is not very' sure of his masculinity or even of what masculinity means. Popular society gives him some images of the male hero which he is rather quick intellectually to reject, but which he cannot easily replace: the strong man, excelling in sports, never expressing powerful emotions, capable of handling his drink and his women. The young man today is caught between this image, which it is hard for him to avoid, and his value system, which calls into question most of this image and lays a heavy stress on the goodness of emotion and sensitivity, which makes him very conscious of his own needs and his own very active life in these areas. He is part of the so-called "generation without a father," for his relations with his father have probably been rather occasional and distant. He feels very much the lack of a strong masculine image, and he even doubts at times his own true virility. If this young man is to undertake a life project involving celibacy, he must be able to reassure himself that he can find friends to fill his affective needs. He is horrified by the prospect - one which he is quick to detect, accurately or not, about him - of the middle-aged religious who has no real friends. He can be willing to undertake celibacy only if he is able to experience it as a unique way of loving others. He feels that it is as great a sin to be celibate without love as it is to have sexual relations without love. Very conscious of the eros within himself, he has to grapple with ways of discovering, releasing, and expressing that eros that corres-pond to the identity which he is seeking as a religious. In simpler terms, he wants to learn how to love (as all young inert do), but if he i,s to be a religious, he must learn to love in such a way that his focus is sharing the Spirit - in such a way that the peace and joy and goodness of God is the focus of his interchange with people. He can be attracted by the ideal of a love that is selfless, but not by one that is isolated or theoretical; the selflessness he seeks, if he is capable of celibate love, is the self-emptying of moving together with other human beings beyond the self and towards the God who calls us on. Too often we older religious have biocked the unique experience of celibate love in our hearts. We may have been celibate, but we have perhaps not always been fully loving. Sometimes the experience of wanting to be possessive, protective, jealous, and competitive, to dominate another person instead of freeing him, may Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 341 be an almost inevitable part of learning to love and to find self in relation to God. The aim of the genuine celibate is to share the Spirit and not bind the persqn to ourselves. The usual challenge for the young person is learning to share the SPIRIT, rather than himself; the challenge for many of us is learning to SHARE that Spirit whom we find within ourselves but often tend to stifle. Only by finding his identity as a celibate person in the midst of genuine love and friendship can a young religious man today achieve a secure psychosexual identity. Much of our work consists of helping him through that painful process - not, again, by expecting him to repeat our own experience, but rather by sharing with him in as understanding a way as possible the progress of his search, Many other areas would have to be touched if our aim were to exhaust the questions that confront the young person in formation: discovery of a meaningful relationship with God in prayer and in service, growth in self-awareness and self-confidence, discovery of identity as a worker and a professional person, and so forth. But what has been said suffices to show how the person who works in formation today is in a very delicate situation, one that can be riddled with anxiety - the anxiety of not knowing exactly where we are going, having a sense of the fragility of human life and commitment, recognizing the precarious religious identity of many of our candidates and longing to protect it, but still having to deal creatively with each one's personal quest and realizing that only he, under the guidance of the Spirit, can fashion his own life. If I may conclude, in Pauline fashion, with a catalogue of the virtues to which we are called, I believe they include a buoyant, persevering zest for life; a willingness to live with some anxiety, to let things and people be as they are; and a creative acceptance that affirms all the good in each person and helps him but does not coerce him to channel it towards the growth of mature religious identity. Abov.e all we need to develop a capacity for creative listening - listening to people as they are, without passing judgment, yet giving them our honest insights and letting the call to growth in the kingdom sound through us. All of this demands what Paul characterizes again and again as "patience" and "magnanimity" - hypomone, the gift of persevering zest, of withstanding pr.essures with love and graciousness; and makrothymia, the "great big heart" that is able to let God and men touch it and fill it and call on it no matter what. There is probably no role in religious life today that calls more than ours for deeper prayer, more hope, and more faith in God's loving strength - for more "waiting on the Lord." Perhaps our motto should be taken from Isaiah: "Those who wait for the Lord renew their strength, run and do not grow weary, walk and never tire" (Is 40:30). THOMAS N. McCARTHY Entry Age for Church Vocations [Thomas N. McCarthy is Vice President for Student Affairs at La Salle College; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19141.] Optimum age for entry into Church vocations continues to be a controversial subject. During the 1960's many seminaries and religious institutes, yielding to both internal and external pressures, raised entrance age requirements from early to late adolescence, and during that decade many permitted the demise of high school juniorates. Pressures for further change persist. The thrust of the early 1970's appears to be toward a further delay of entry from ageseventeen or eighteen to twenty, twenty-one, or beyond and with this a growing trend to phase out college level minor seminaries and scholasticates. At the same time that delayed entry for younger candidates is being encouraged, the admission of older candidates, that is, those over thirty years of age, is being actively encouraged. The purpose of this paper is to provide some empirical information on the relationship of applicant age to entry/non-entry rates among those who present themselves as candidates to Church vocations during post high school years and to persistence/attrition rates among those who enter then. The figures reported here are taken from a larger study currently being completed in which 750 candidates to two institutes of teaching brothers, 360 candidates to an institute of religious priests, and 1100 candidates to four institutes of teaching sisters were followed up for periods ranging from three to thirteen years to find out who entered and who did not, who had persisted and who had withdrawn. The relationship of these outcomes to characteristics of the people at the time they became applicants was then analyzed. Some of the applicant characteristics studied were age, education', ability, personality, and interests. The results of this study provide some empirical grounds on which to base policies about when people should be admitted to Church vocations - information which is currently not available in the literature. There are, of course, many relevant factors, of which empirical evidence is one, in a policy decision of this sort. Some Influences on Postponing Entry Among reasons for the demise of early adolescent entry to Church vocations in the United States are support from Rome for the delay, changes in family life, psychological and sociological theory, evidence of very high drop-out rates among high school age entrants, and feelings of interpersonal deficiencies among the current generation of religious leaders. While Rome has declined to officially condemn early entry - indeed it continues to encourage 12-13-year-old entry in some countries - in 1969 the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes issued a document,Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation, recommending the practice of postponing Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 343 entrance for a year or two after high school graduation. The document moved beyond the recommendation that seminaries and religious orders get out of high school age formation - the cause c61~bre of the sixties - to getting out of some college age formation work as well. The recommendation rests on the assumption that older entrants would be more mature and consequently better able to profit from spiritual training. It also rests on the related assumption that, being more mature, older entrants should be more stable vocationally. These assumptions have not been put to an empirical test for religious candidates. It is not known if being older would in fact be related to greater maturity nor is it known if being older would be associated with higher persistence. The purpose of this paper is to provide information for testing the latter assumption among post high school age candi-dates. On theoretical grounds "one would expect that post high school entry, that is, entering when about seventeen or eighteen years old, should be associated with more stable career choices than entering prior to that time. That expectation is based on changes in family life, typical career choice patterns in the United States, Erikson's theory of ego identity, and Super's career development theory. The question of achieving greater vocational stability by delaying entry to even later ages, however, remains an open one. The American family, often mother dominated during the thirties when fathers suffered crushing economic humiliation and during the first half of the forties when men were off to war, has come more under the influence of father in the past twenty-five years, Undoubtedly this is one of the reasons for the decline in vocations which began to occur in the mid to late sixties. There is ample evidence that mother is most frequently the primary inspiration and support of religious vocations. Fichter is quoted by Rooney (1970) as reporting evidence for the greater influence of priests than of mothers in priestly vocations. Later research, especially that of Potvin and Suziedelis (1969), however, clearly supports the primary role of mother. In all likelihood there is no essential disagreement between these findings. I suspect that maternal influence is probably the major predisposing factor in the development of priestly or religious interests and that the influence of a given priest or'religious is generally the precipitating factor associated with a specific choice of institute. Mothers generally are more religious in orientation than fathers are, and with declining maternal influence and a corresponding increase in paternal influence, I think it can be safely assumed that today's teenagers are not as subject to family p.ressures to enter church vocations as was formerly true. It can be assumed further that pressures of this sort are felt most greatly in early teen years, that is, before an independent sense of self is well developed, than in the late teen years when eg.o identity normally is firmer. Thus a strong maternal influence on Church vocation choices most likely would be associated with both early entry and high rates of entry, while waning maternal influence would be associated with later and declining entry rates. Furthermore, if the dynamics of husband-wife, parent-child relation-ships have indeed changed with father re-assuming greater ascendancy since the"mid " 1940's, one could also infer support for a psychoanalytical interpretation that children in their early teens today should feel less heavy maternal emotional demands than was true of youngsters in the past. Consequently today's youth should feel less need to escape the home and these demands. Also instrumental in supporting delay of entry until after high school is the general tendency in America today to put off professional career choices until 344 Review for Religious~ Volume 31, 1972/3 college. Typical career development patterns now c~ll for a tentative choice of broad field and entrance into training for it around age eighteen. This generally is foll6wed by a period of narrowing course and career selection from around age 20 which eventually culminates for those who successfully complete career training in actual job entry around age 22-25. The near universality of this pattern for professional careers appears to be having a persuasive influence on Church pers.onnel practices. Both advocates and adversaries of delayed entry accept the premise that there must be substantial differences between preparation for Church vocations and preparation for secular careers. Education for the Church requires both an academic and a personal formation side, whereas preparation for secular careers is almost always restricted to the former. Paradoxically, agreement about this has fed the controversy about optimum entry age, both sides using it to make their case. Advocates of early entry have argued that the seed of a vocation is typically implanted early, will not be properly cultivated and is unlikely to grow outside a religious house of formation, and that vocations will be reduced unless early admission is permitted. Adversaries have argued that a person in his early teens does not know his own mind and that he needs the broader experiences - especially heterosocial ones - of ordina~'y family and social life before he is mature enough to profit from the spiritual formation side of Church vocation preparation. The immense popularity of Erikson's theory of adolescent identity crisis has had a remarkable effect on the attitudes of Church authorities toward proper entry age. Erikson's views about the development of a sense of self-identity, more than the views of any other theoretician, have provided the rationalization for delaying entry until an individual has achieved sufficient psychological independence from the primary adults in his life to have an ego identity of his own. That independence is thought to occur generally around age eighteen rather than at the beginning of the teens when so many youngsters formerly were funneled into religious or clerical life. Two recent religious writers, Mitchell (1970) and Gerlach (1971), have argued the viewpoint that the nature of a Church vocation requires entrants to have resolved not only the teenage identity crisis but also to have achieved a successful resolution of the problem of how to be intimate with another, the next level in Erikson's developmental theory. This viewpoint is offered as a basis for a further delay of entry age to twenty or so. Other than the theory behind the position, I find little else to support it. To my knowledge there is no published empirical information comparing the eventual social adjustment and persistence of entrants at one age to entrants at another age. Nor am 1 aware of any evidence that learning how to be intimate outside of religious life generalizes to the special circumstances within the life. On the contrary, this strikes me like a girl telling an interested boy to go learn how to make love and then come back when he knows how. He'll probably go elsewhere and learn all right, but it is not likely that he'll return to her. Super's career development theory, thanks to the promulgation of it among Church leaders by people like Kinnane (1970), also has influenced the move toward post high school entry. Super has proposed that the specification of a career choice, that is, electing a given career and taking concrete steps to prepare for it, normally occurs between ages eighteen and twenty-one and follows a period of roughly four years (ages 14-18) during which a career preference is crystalized out of an individual's growing awareness of his own interests, values, abilities, and opportuni-ties. Following Super's reasoning, entering the preparatory stage of a career before Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 345 age eighteen would have, for most people, the effect of foreclosing other options before the individual knows himself and the world of careers well enough to make a sound choice. For Super the choice of career involves a way of implementing one's concept of oneself, and a person is not ready to do that until the self-concept is relatively clear. Drop-out rates have never been well publicized even in professional literature and as a result are hard to document, especially over long periods of time. An occasional master's dissertation (see Verstynen, 1948) and studies dealing with some other aspect of seminary life sometimes report this information. People involved in Church personnel administration also generate a reservoir of information, often more anecdotal than systematic, about attrition rates. By the middle 1960's these varied sources, admittedly not rigorously scientific, had provided some foundation for the belief that drop-out rates are inversely related to age at entry. Patterson (1942), for example, reported a drop-out rate of over 80% for those who entered one seminary after grade eight declining to just over 75% for those who entered after having had some high school. So far as I know, to date there has been no systematic attempt to establish relationships between age of candidature and entry/nonentry, persistence/attrition rates across different types of church voca-tions. Is age of candidacy related to entry/nonentry or persistence/attrition in the same way for brothers, priests, and sisters? Dissatisfaction with interpersonal aspects of their lives is evident among a large number of the current generation of priests and professed religious. This is one of the most common complaints to come out of several studies over the past five years (see Schneider and Hall, 1970; Louis, Bowles, and Grace, 1967). Many in Church vocations feel that interpersonal deficiencies could have been corrected had candidates been required to remain outside the walls for a longer period of time. While there is no direct evidence that this in fact would happen, the desire to have better interpersonal relationships has been strong enough to persuade many to this viewpoint. All of these factors appear to have contributed to the demise of entry before high school graduation and to support of the current trend to delay entry for another year or two after that. It is a curious comment on the times that during all the controversy over this matter of optimum age for entry very little research was carried out to assess the actual psychological impact of formation on individuals at different ages. Keefe's study (1965) is the only one I know of which compared individuals of the same age in seminary and non-seminary high schools to see if there was a differential effect on maturity associated with one type of school as opposed to the other. He concluded that neither group was more mature than the other. Other doctoral dissertations done at Fordham (Mastej, Sandra, Vaughan) have shown increasing signs of maladjustment during college years of formation, but the cross-section methodology used in those studies leaves open the question of whether the subjects themselves actually changed or whether the group average changed as a result of better adjusted people having dropped out. 1 think the weight of the evidence on theoretical grounds, social changes, and on what empirical information exists clearly justifies delay of entry until the comple-tion of high school. As to justifying delay beyond this, it seems to me that empirical evidence is currently lacking and that the implications of theoretical positions such as Erikson's developmental views are open to conjecture. At the same time, however, there does appear to be a growing trend among college 346 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 students to put off career decisions longer than was true in the recent past. Some Empirical Evidence In 1970 I did a follow-up study of approximately 2200 candidates I had examined for seven Church institutes during the years 1957-1967. Information about age at the time they applied for entry was available for 742 candidates to two provinces of the same institute of teaching brothers, 354 candidates to an order of religious priests, and 1089 candidates to four institutes of teaching sisters. Their age when they were examined for admission was then studied in relationship to their having entered or not and to their having persisted or not for those who entered. The examinations were conducted on the average 3-9 months before actual entry. On the average when they sought entry the candidates to the brothers were 17 years, 11 months, to the priesthood 19 years, 2 months, and to the sisters 18 years, 5 months (see Table 1). The half-year difference between candidates to the brothers and sisters, the eight month difference between candidates to the sisters and the priesthood, and the fourteen month difference between candidates to the brothers and priesthood were all statistically significant and could not be accounted for by chance. Thus each type of institute attracted candidates of somewhat different ages. Table 1. Mean ages in months of candidates, nonentrants, entrants, persisters, and withdrawers for seven institutes of brothers, priests, and sisters.* Brothers Standard (2 Provinces) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates 742 215.3 19.7 Non-Entrants 389 216.8 24.9 Entrants 353 212.9 15.9 2.56 .05 Persisters 151 214.0 18.1 With'drawers 202 212.2 14.0 1.01 ns. Priests Standard (1 Institute) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates 354 229.6 34.4 Non-Entrants 60 239.8 45.2 Entrants 294 227.5 31.3 2.00 .05 Persisters 98 227.8 29.1 Withdrawers 196 227.3 32.3 ,13 ns. Sisters Standard (4 Institutes) N Mean Deviation t p Candidates " 1089 221.2 24.4 Non-Entrants 222 228.8 32.5 Entrants 867 220.5 21.5 3.60 .01 Persisters 469 219.7 18.2 Withdrawers 398 221.4 24.8 1.13 ns. *Age refers to how old the person was when he was examined as a part of the application process. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 347 Older candidates to all three types of institutes were less likely to enter than were younger candidates. As shown in Table 1 the differences between the average ages of entrants and nonentrants were statistically significant beyond chance expectancy in all three cases. For the brothers nonentrants were on the average four months older than entrants, for the seminary a full year older, and for the sisters eight months older. Clearly promise, at least from the viewpoint of entrance, was not associated with being older for these seven institutes during the eleven years from 1957 through 1967. It would not be correct to conclude from this that superiors had a tendency to deny admission to older candidates on the basis of age alone. The more usual situation was that being older tended to be associated with some other factors considered signs of poor promise: indecisiveness, family problems, psycho-sexual problems, and questionable motivation being common. Only eleven of the 2185 candidates were over thirty years old. The brothers had two such candidates and neither entered; the priests had five, of whom three entered; the sisters had four, of whom two entered. All of the other candidates were in their late teens or twenties. At the lower end of the continuum 78 of the brothers' candidates were sixteen in comparison to 6 seminary candidates and 27 candidates to the convents in that age group. The brothers had 2 candidates who were fifteen and the seminary 1. The sisters had none that young. All of these younger candidates have been lumped in the 17 and under category in Table 2. Table 2. Proportions of entrants, non-entrants, persisters, and withdrawers by age of candidates to seven institutes of brothers, priests, and sisters. Total Candi- Non- Institute Age dates Entrants Entrants Persisters Withdtawers N N % N % N %* %** N %* P 5 2 40 3 60 1 33 20 2 67 40 S Base Ratet (17%) (83%) (34%) (28%) (66%) (54%) S 4 R S Base Rater * Proportion of entrants (All figures ~e for age at 115 19 506 81 274 54 44 232 46 37 60 19 256 81 142 55 44 114 45 36 37 28 93 72 49 53 37 44 47 33 8 44 10 56 4 40 22 6 60 33 2 50 2 50 0 0 0 2 100 50 (20%) (80%) (54%) (43%). (46%) (36%) ** Proportion of candidates ~- Proportions without regard to age time the person was examined during the application process). B 2 2 100 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 E R Base Rate~ (52%) (48%) (42%) (20%) (58%) (27%) S 348 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 The largest single age group applying to all three types of institutes were seventeen years old: 94% of the brother candidates, 46% of the seminary candidates, and 55% of the sister candidates. This was followed by those in the eighteen and nineteen-year-old bracket who comprised 19%, 30%, and 29% of the candidates to the brothers, seminary, and sisters respectively. Five percent of the candidates to the brothers were between twenty and twenty-four, 19% of those applying to the seminary, and 12% to the convents. Very few candidates to any of the institutes were between twenty-five and twenty-nine (see Table 2 for all of these figures). The base rate figures in Table 2 indicate the overall proportions of nonentrants, entrants, persisters, and withdrawers without regard to age. If being a given age was a "good sign" for entry, the proportion of those entering from that age group should be above that of the base rate. For the brothers and priests the 17-year-olds had the best entry rates and for the sisters those in the 17-19 age brackets had the best entry rates. For the brothers all ages over 17 had entry rates lower than the base rate; for the priests those in the 20-24 and over 30 age groups had lower entry o rates; and for the sisters all those 20 and over had lower entry rates. Do these same patterns hold with regard to persistence and attrition for the seven institutes? The data are not nearly so clear on this point. The figures in Table 1 show no appreciable age differences between those remaining in and those who left. It is important to bear in mind that all figures are for the ages of persisters and withdrawers at the time they applied for entry, not at the time of the follow-up. Two base rate figures are given for persisters and withdrawers in Table 2. The first refers to the proportion of those who entered who eventually remained or left; the second refers to the proportion of total candidates wt~o remained or left. Brothers For the brothers 42% of the 353 entrants were still in when the follow-up was done. The best persistence record was for those few entrants (1 I) who were between 20-24 when they applied for entry. On the other hand, the best persistence record for all candidates was for those who were either 17 years old or between 25-29 when they sought entry. Only two persisters were in the latter age group, however, versus 122 in the l~-year-old group. Clearly, delaying entry for candidates to these institutes w~uld have resulted in a very heavy loss of people who are still persisting. This, of course, assumes that the interest of the 17-year-olds would not have been sustained while waiting for a later entry - an outcome which I think is highly likely, though not amenable to proof from these data, even with lots of tender loving care in extramural aspirancies. The normal training period for these brothers extends for six years. In general, though this was not true for everyone at the time of the follow-up in 1970, it can be assumed that those still persisting from among candidates who had applied during the years from 1957 through 1962 were finally professed. These men would have been in their respective institutes anywhere from eight to thirteen years. In absolute numbers far and away the greatest number of final professed came from among candidates who had applied at age 17. There were 63 professed from that age bracket versus 5 from those who had applied at age 16, 13 from the 18-19- year-old applicants, and 3 from the 20-24-year-olds. On the basis of the proportions of candidates within each age group who remained to be finally professed, again the highest proportion was found among the 17-year-olds, though the differences from one age group to another were Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 349 relatively small: 17% of the 16-yea.r-old candidates eventually were finally pro-fessed, 23% of the 17-year-olds, 15% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 20%of the 20-24- year-olds. The entrants in each age group who had taken final vows were distributed as follows: 45% of the 16-year-olds, 48% of the 17-year-olds, 37% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 60% of the 20-24-year-olds. With only 3 people in the latter category, one could hardly justify delaying entrance to that age unless one could also demonstrate their superiority over the 81 professed who had entered at the younger age. The differences between the persistence rates of candidates and the persistence rates of entrants suggest that pre-ad.mission screening improves persistence rates rather substantially at every age. Priests In the case of the priests the overall persistence rate for the 294 entrants was 34% in comparison to 28% for the 354 candidates. The best persistence record for entrants was achieved by those who had applied when they were between 20-24 followed by the 17-year-old applicants. The best persistence record for candidates was achieved by 17-year-olds followed by those 20-24. There were fairly sizeable numbers of persisters in all the age brackets from 17 through 24 but substantially greater numbers who withdrew. Thus it would be very difficult to generalize about an optimum age for entering this seminary aside from being under age 25. At the time of the follow-up 19 of 118 candidates who had applied during the years 1961 and 1962 had been in the seminary eight or nine years. On the average they had been 19 years, 9 months when they sought entry. Of the 19 a total of 10 were ordained. The youngest candidate among the ordained had been 18 when he applied. The majority (6 of the 10) had been between 20-24; 1 was 27; 2 were 19. There is a strong suggestion from these few figures that for this seminary being in one's early twenties was a better sign of promise for eventual ordination than being younger. It needs to be pointed out, however, that older candidates had less education to complete when they entered and were thus more likely to have been ordained within the eight-to nine-year span covered by this study than were younger entrants. When the follow-up was done 9 non-ordained of the 19 persisters over this time span had been 18 or younger on becoming candidates: 1 was 16; 5 were 17; and 3 were 18. Accordingly, one might still be reluctant to deny admission to 17-year-olds. Looked at another way and assuming the 6 remaining 16 and 17-year-old persisters all accept ordination, that would result in an expected ordination rate of 13% for the 46 candidates in that age bracket during the years 1961-62 versus an actual ordination rate of 26% for the 23 candidates who were between 20-24. The comparable ordination rates for entrants in these age brackets would be 15% versus 37%, respectively. For candidates 18-19 years old, 3 already were ordained and assuming ordination of the remaining 3, their ordination rate against the total candidates in that age bracket would be. 14% versus 18% for entrants in that age group. Though the numbers involved are very small to draw firm generalizations, the ordination rates, both actual and assumed, give rather clear support to the view that candidates in their early twenties show greater promise than do those in their late teens. Sisters Fifty-four percent of the 867 who entered the four convents were still in as of 1970 in comparison to 43% of the total 1089 candidates. The persistence rates of 350 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 all entrants under 25 years old differed very little from one another: 54% of the 17-year-old entrants were still in, 55%of the 18-19-year-olds, and 53%of the 20~24- year-olds. Entrants over age 25, a very small number (10), were less likely to persist (40%) than the others. Using the total pool of candidates as a reference point the best persistence risks came from those who were between 17 and 19 (44%) when they applied. The poorest risks were those over 30 (0%), followed by those between 25 and 29 (22%), and 20-24 (37%). A separate analysis was done of the 209 candidates who had applied to three of the convents sometime between 1958 and 1962 and who were still in as of 1970. The fourth convent did not begin psychological evaluations until 1963 and was excluded for that reason. Thus for the other three institutes those persisting had been in their respective convent for eight to twelve years and normally would have been finally professed by that time. For these people essentially the same persistence rates were found for all ages between 17 and 24. Of the 17-year-old entrants 53% were professed compared to 54% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 56% of the 20-24-year-olds. Using candidates as the base for comparisons, 47% of the 17-year-olds were professed, 47% of the 18-19-year-olds, and 42% of the 20-24-year olds. In absolute numbers far and away the greatest number of professed (I 13) applied when they were 17 followed by 67 18-19-year-olds, 23 20-24-year~olds, 3 25-29-year-olds, and 3 16-year-olds. No candidate over thirty remained in.Sixteen-year- old candidates were a rarity. There were only four and all applied to one convent. Three of the four were eventually professed. What can one make of the figures for the convents? With about one-half of the 17- year-old candidates having remained in the convent at least eight to twelve years, it would be hard to support the contentii3n that they are a less stable group than older candidates and thus should be delayed from entering for another year, two years, or more. Profession rates for 18-19-year-old entrants are no better than theirs and after that age the persistence rates drop off. Unless one could assume holding the interest of 17-19-year-olds during a period of delay, a large drop in absolute numbers of those who eventually take final vows can be predicted and probably without much change in overall persistence rates given the same amount of screening done in the past. Summary Observations An increase in the number of nonentrants among candidates to Church vocations is one likely consequence of postponing entry beyond high school graduation. Age in itself would not be the reason for this increase. However, age-related factors such as career indecisiveness, social and sexual adjustment, and similar factors probably would be. A second consequence very likely would be a sharp decline in the number of candidates making application. This already is evident for institutes which have adopted a policy of postponed entrance for a year or more after high school graduation. The brothers, in particular, would be affected by this. The two brothers institutes in this study do not conduct colleges whereas the institute of priests and the four institutes of sisters each conduct at least one college and in some cases :two or more. 1 do not know if this was a contributing factor to brothers attracting the youngest candidates of all three types of institutes and having had relatively small numbers of candidates in their early twenties, but 1 suspect that was the case. In addition, for the brothers almost three times the proportion of candidates in their early twenties failed to enter than was true for the seminary and convents. I take Review for Refigious, Volume 31, 1972/3 351 this to mean that applicant proximity to the age group with which the Church institute works may be a significant factor both in becoming a candidate and in entering. Persistence was related to ag~ differently for the three types of institutes. Considering only those who had remained in for periods ranging from eight to thirteen years, for the brothers 17-year-old entrants had the best persistence records and in absolute numbers constituted by far the largest group of persisters compared to other ages; for entrants to the priesthood being in the early twenties was associated with a persistence rate twice that for 17-year-olds and approximately twice that for 18-19-year-olds as well; for the sisters essentially the same persistence rates were found for all ages between 17 and 24. The absolute number of persisters was much higher for 17-year-olds, however, than for any other age group. These figures indicate that it is unwise to generalize about optimum' age for entry without taking into consideration the type of institute. Given the same set of circumstances for the future that prevailed in these institutes through 1970 - an admittedly questionable assumption - one would have to predict that postponing entry to age 20 for the brothers could shortly put those institutes out of business. For the seminary reported on here to do that could result in a reduction of up to 50% of those who remain in to be eventually ordained, though I would estimate~ the more likely reduction would be on the order of 20-25%. For the convents to postpone entry to age 20 one would predict a very sharp drop in total number of entrants but without appreciably improving persistence rates of those eventually admitted. The net effect would be a substantial drop in new professed. All of this obviously assumes a simpler relationship between age and persistence than fits the facts, but the estimates have some empirical foundation. I think the more important question than simple persistence is whether one can identify among post high school candidates those who are mature enough to hold promise for an effective ministry. On the side of negative characteristics, there is firm evidence that candidates with poor motivation and poor prognosis due to family problems can be identified with a high degree of success (Weisgerber, 1969). The very sharp differences for the brothers in persistence rates for entrants from the different age groups in comparison to candidates from the different age groups probably reflects the results of effective screening. The brothers admitted only about 50% of their candidates. Similar differences in persistence rates were not found between entrants and candidates to the seminary which had not screened nearly so rigorously. Some institutes prefer to admit candidates without putting strong emphasis on the psychological evaluation. This typically results in higher entry rates and lower persistence rates, an outcome which indirectly suggests that signs of promise among candidates can be identified with some accuracy by pre-admission evaluation. So, too, does the much higher long-term persistence rate for the brothers than for the seminary, the former institutes having been more selective than the latter. The research project of which this report is a part is also concerned with specifying psychological attributes which distinguish successful 17-year-old candi-dates from nonsuccessful ones, success defined in terms of interpersonal relation-ships and job competence after final profession. Preliminary results suggest this can be done to some extent for a given institute but that the findings are not generalizable even between two similar institutes, for example, between two institutes of brothers engaged in the same work. This, too, would argue against 352 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 making specific entry age recommendations for all Church vocations and would argue instead for institutes establishing entry age policies based on studies of their own candidates. REFERENCES Gerlach, J. Form. ation: Some Reflections and Convictions. Review for Religious, Vol. 30, No. 5, September, 1971. Keefe, J. Maturity io the High School Seminary: An Empirical Approach. The Catholic Psychological Record, 1969, 6, 1, ,I 5-29. Kinnane, J. F., Career Development for Priests and Religious. Washington, D.C.: C.A.R.A. 1970. Lewis, A., Bowles, W. and Grace, R. Attitude Study Among Priests and Religious in New Orleans Archdiocese. Project ~560, May, 1967 Unpublished paper. Mitchell, K. R. Priestly Celibacy from a Psychological Perspective. The Journal of Pastoral Care, Vol. 24, No. 4, December, 1970. Patterson, H. A Study of Student Mortality at St. Anthony's Seminary and Suggestions for Improving the Situation. Master's Dissertation, Catholic University of America, | 942. Potvin, R. H. and Suziedelis, A. Seminarians of the Sixties. Washington! C.A.R.A. 1969. Rooney, J. J. Psychological Research on the American Priesthood: A Review of the~ Literature in E. C. Kennedy and V. J. Hecker, The Loyola Psychological Study of the Ministry and Life of the American Priests (Washington: National Conference of Catholic Bishops, 1971). Sacred Congregation of Religious and for Secular Institutes. Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation. Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1969. Schneider, B. and Hall, D. T. The Role of Assignment Characteristics in the Career Experiences of Diocesan Priests. in W. E. Bartlett (ed.) Evolving Religious Careers, Washington, D.C.: C.A.R.A. 1970. Verstynen, R. J. A Study of Perseverance in Relation to Vocations to the Priesthood. Master's Dissertation, Catholic University of America, 1948. Weisgerber, C. A. Psychological Assessment of Candidates for a Religious Order. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1969. JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. Soundings on the Present State of Religious Life [John R. Sheets, S.J., is professor of theology at Marquette University; 1131 West Wisconsin Avenue; Milwaukee, Wisconsir~ 53233.] Anyone who attempts to assess the present state of religious life in America today is in a position similar to that of a weatherman who might try to give a neat presentation of the weather across the country. It defies any neat categories. In one part it is calm, in another stormy. In one, it is warm; in another, below zero. High in the atmosphere there are currents of air which no one picks up without the proper instruments, while close to the earth there are other currents which everyone can feel. Changing the comparison, we would like to present some "soundings" concerning the present condition of religious life in America. "Soundings" is a safe word for what we would like to do. Taking soundings of the ocean floor, for example, is always a combination of accurate analysis plus some educated guesswork. At the same time, the nature of sounding what lies beneath the surface respects the fact that the picture can change very suddenly because of the constant movement of the currents. There are two assumptions underlying all that is said below. They are quite obvious, but it is necessary to mention them in order to put the rest of" the remarks in their proper context. The first assumption is this: There are certain fundamental components involved in all change which must interact harmoniously if there is to be growth and development. These components of change are mainly concerned with permanence and variability, sameness and newness, unity and diversity, continuity and discon-tinuity, conservation and innovation. When these components are mutally suppor-tive, there is progressive growth. When they fail to mesh and are at odds, the result is frustration, stagnation, fragmentation, and disintegration. The second assumption concerns the vital synthesis of these components. They are held together only through vision and values which are shared. The components are only mutually supportive if they are held together from above through faith enriched by love. Where faith is lost, these components lose their synthesizing center. They tend to break off and live a life of their own when the center is gone. On the other hand, where they are rooted in a common faith, then, while there may be stress and strain, there will inevitably be growth. We would like to make our soundings of religious life on the basis of these two assumptions. It seems that our soundings pick up an antagonism between these components of change as well as approaches to synthesis. We would like to hazard the opinion that this antagonism comes largely from an overreaction to what we 354 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 can vaguely call a "classical" view of religious life. This is the first point we would like to make. In the second place, we would like to comment on the fact that in many instances the synthesis is lost because the vision and values that were shared are no longer shared. In the third place, we want to call attention to the phenomenon of fresh synthesis that is taking place in many religious personally as well as in their congregations. Overreaction to the "Classical" Mentality We said above that growth depends on the harmonious interaction of the various components of change and that frustration occurs where these begin to be antagonistic to each other instead of supportive. One of the main sources of this antagonism today comes from an overreaction to the past. Today one often hears our own age of rapid change contrasted with a "classical" world view. This term is a hard one to nail down adequately. Among other things it connotes a mentality which is static, uniform, traditional, symmetrical. No period and no person in history ever verified this description perfectly. It is for the most part a mental construct. Nevertheless, in comparison with our present age, it does serve as a useful category. Our own age takes its orientation not only from the various forces that are at work, but also from the fact that these forces are fed by undertows of reaction toward the past. This is not an unusual phenomenon. Other periods of history have been marked largely by the way in which they reacted .to the past. The period of Romanticism, for example,took its shape and force largely as a reaction to the Enlightenment. The same process takes place in individuals as well as in groups. A person who has been brought up in a home that is overrestrictive can turn his initial taste of freedom into a spree of irresponsibility. It seems that many problems in religious life today come not simply from a legitimate reaction but from an overreaction to what can be vaguely called a "classical" form of religious life. Reaction in itself is not necessarily harmful. It can in fact provide impetus to move a person or a group forward. When it becomes an overreaction, however, it moves a person or a group into a position of imbalance. Overreaction can act like a blind force pushing a person or a group into a position beyond the point where they would normally go if they had full control of the situation. Where there is overreaction, reason does not lead. It is only called upon to legitimate the position a person has been forced into by overreaction. Similarly, overreaction is not the product of freedom and choice but of a passion generated by antagonism against a previous state of things. Reaction, as was said, can be an incentive to move beyond the point where one finds himself. Reaction can be the realm of the Spirit. Overreaction, on the other hand, is the realm of the demonic. Reaction can be the activity of the prophet. Overreaction is characteristic of the fanatic. Reaction is power under control. Overreaction is power without control. We can ascribe three main characteristics to the "classical" mentality. They are (1) anonymity, (2) structure, (3) subordination of the individual to the community. In lining up these characteristics we repeat the caution that they are largely a mental construct we put on the past. While they are verified, they are never found in an unmixed form. At the same time we want to avoid the idea that we are condemning the "classical" mentality. It is like pointing out a particular style of architecture that characterized a certain period in history. It is no reflection on the Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 355 genuinity of religious dedication in the past. Our contemporary "architecture" will become "classical" to the generations that follow us. The Reaction against Anonymity One of the reactions to what we called the classical mentality is the reaction against "being a nobody." It is a reaction against a certain kind of anonymity that was part of religious life. Perhaps anonymity is not the right word. In any case, the religious was not to call attention to himself as an individual. He was in a sense to " be a symbolic presence, where what he stood for shone through the individual characteristics. For this reason, particularly with religious women, the religious garb itself served an important function, not only in its positive value as sign, but also in what could be called a negative sense. Individual characteristics were "blacked out," very often to the point where only the face was visible. Whenever religious women today reminisce about the kind of clothes they used to wear, they usually do so with a mixture of humor, wonder, and relief, somewhat in the same way that children react to the old pictures in an album. However, when one realizes the thinking behind that manner of dress, it is not all that ridiculous. The dress was in some way to reduce what was purely individual in order to manifest the personal. Individual characteristics were suppressed to make room for what was beyond the individual. We are not calling for a return to those particular modes of dress. It is important, however, to understand the rationale behind them. The same thinking was behind the custom of changing one's name. When a religious gave up his family name and assumed a new name, this change was symbolic of a new mode of existence. This anonymity was a kind of a general condition in which religious, especially religious women, worked and lived. It monitored one's whole life. One's home, background, family, were kept hidden like a precious secret. We can all remember (except the ~,ery youngest of us) when one of the greatest childhood thrills was to discover the color of sister's hair, or to find out her real name. The cloister itself was a graphic symbol of this hiddenness. Today there is a strong reaction against any factor which is associated with anonymity. As HammarskjiSld observes in his diary, "Our final wish is to have scribbled off the wall our 'Kilroy was here.' " We all want to be recognized, not to be a nobody, but to be a somebody, and to have what we do acknowledged by others as our own work. Though we boast about our being able to go it alone, wo are very dependent on the recognition given us by others. No one can deny the value in such a reaction where it makes someone a more genuine person. Often, however, it results in making someone more of an individual, but less of a person. The difference between the individual and the personal is the difference in the color of one's eyes and the light in his eyes, or the shape of one's body and the genuineness of one's love. What is individual in us is (to use St. Paul's expression) the earthenware vessel in which we carry the personal. Where the individual is cultivated at the expense of the personal, we find something like those tiny Japanese trees which are very beautiful but unfruitful. While each of us has the temptation to sacrifice the person on the altar of the individual in us, the overreaction to the anonymity of the past has in many cases brought about a cult of individualism rather than a deepening of the personal. There is a difference between the liberation of the person and the liberation of what is individual in us. Often what passes for liberation of the personal.:in us is simply a disguised form of individualism. 356 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 Another aspect of this reaction against the anonymity of the past is evident in the strong movement to have a say in what is happening. In the past, religious, especially religious women, were to be seen, not heard. They never had a share in the decision-making in the parish, diocese, or Church. They were always obediently "there." Decisions from Rome, the Sacred Congregation of Religious, or the chancery office were accepted with unquestioning obedience, at least as far as execution was concerned. There was a certain mystique to the whole idea of authority in the Church. An interesting reaction has taken place, which in many instances has assumed the proportions of an overreaction. If in the past there was a mystique about authority, today there is a de-mystification of authority to the point where the very ¯ foundations of ecclesial authority are denied. Ecclesiastical authority, especially if it is of the unAmerican type, is relegated to something like baroque architecture, which is a relic of the past. In a very brief span of ten years, many religious, as individuals and as groups, have come of age, and issued their declaration of independence, often in the words dictated to them by some other authority. Chesterton's remark, though written decades ago, is apropos. He said: "Thousands of women rose up and said, 'We shall not be dictated to!' Then they sat down to be stenographers." It is unfortunate that an overreaction to a "classical" mode of exercising authority has led many to reject or to question the authority of the Church itself in matters touching their religious life. When this happens, another authority comes in to take the place of the one rejected. Nature abhors a vacuum. An authority vacuum is soon filled with another authority. Often the situation is like that described in the gospel, where seven devils enter who are worst than the first. In something of a similar vein, religious are feeling their "political oats." There is also a reaction to anonymity here. They are beginning to realize that they can and should have a voice in the affairs of the Church and society. Much of this is on the positive side of the ledger. There is a danger, however, that some may lose sight of the fact that a religious group does not exist primarily to exercise political pressures through the use of political tactics. Their political influence in fact is mainly exercised through witness to the gospel values in a manner which ve.ry often is incompatible with the strategies involved in politics. The Reaction against Structure We have commented on the imbalance that comes from an overreaction against a kind of "classical" arlonymity which we associate with religious life of the past. This same kind of a phenonmenon occurs in reaction to "structure." It is hard to pin down exactly what is contained in the word "structure?' Many use it in different ways. In any case, it seems to be loaded with many of the connotations we described as being part of the "classical" mentality. It conjures up spectres of impersonalism, inflexibility, regulation, and stereotype. In the past, at least in the case of many religious, practically every detail of their lives was regulated, the way they dressed, the order of the day, their manner of dealing with externs, their correspondence, and so forth. It is understandable that there should be a reaction to this type of regulation. But, as in the case with the reaction against anonymity, which has become the cult of the individual, here also the overreaction against structure has often turned into adolescent immaturity. There is almost an allergy to any type of regulation at all. Even language itself has to be purged of words that suggest anything like regulation. The word "rule" has Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 357 gone into the limbo of forbidden words and has been replace.d with safe words like "guidelines," "directives." As an overreaction to the regulation of everything, many are spastic about the regulation of anything. In many cases even the revised constitutions, the product of much work, prayer, study, discussion, are very careful to be "safe" in their terminology. Words that have any connotation of structure are carefully avoided. Very often these constitutions are written on the tide of overreaction and are careful to play down any idea of subordination of self to anything like structure. Yet it is a matter of common sense that structure is one of the components of growth that we spoke of earlier. It is like the branches of a tree through which the life flows to produce the fruit. Of course, structure without life is dead, and life without structure is aimless. Along with this reaction to overregulation, there is also the reaction to oversupervision. Some religious consider their duty is done if they "check in" occasionally to let superiors know what is happening. In many cases, superiors themselves have abdicated any real role of authority. They see their role only as serving as a kind of check point to keep the traffic running smoothly. These remarks should not be construed as hankering after the days of yore, where every detail in a person's life was regulated, and being an authority was identified with giving orders. They serve to point out a fact, however. Overreaction to that kind of a life has often resulted in a caricature not simply of religious life, but of any kind of life, which needs a certain structure and regulation if there is to be concerted work for a goal. The Reaction to Institution Along with the reaction against anonymity and structure, there is the reaction against institution. While this word is related to structure, when we use it here we are thinking of the corporate nature of the religious group. It takes into consideration the relationship of the part to the whole, and the whole to the part. We see the same phenomenon here that we have commented on above. There is a profound malaise with everything connoted" by the word "institutional." Once again, as a reaction against certain features of our institutional life, this movement can be very healthy. However, when it becomes an overreaction, the components of change begin to clash instead of supporting each other. One aspect of the reaction to "institution" is the movement to small commu-nities. It is an attempt to "de-institutionalize" one's life. It is too early to assess the results of this. In some cases, it has resulted in a more genuine community life, both within the small community, and in the relationship of the small community to all of the other communities. In other instances, the s~ into individuals who share the same rooms without sh~ As part of this reaction against institution, there i., vision of one's apostolate to one's personal career. apostolate of many religious communities has lost tl~ has been reduced for all practical purposes to a group own flight plans. The apostolates that have suffered areas, where hospitals and schools have closed and r facing an uncertain future, because they have no !~ whether religious will still be interested in such work. Now I feel I must tread where even angels fear religious garb. A few years ago (though it seems like a concerned with modifying the religious garb. Now it nail communities degenerate ing anything else. the tendency to narrow the is a great tragedy that the community dimension and individuals turning in their the most are those in rural aany others find themselves uarantee from year to year walk. It is the matter of ',entury) the discussions were a matter in many cases of 358 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 adoption of a mode of dress which in no way disti.nguishes a person as a religious. This is a very touchy subject. Though the question of clothing is trivial in itself when compared with values like faith and charity, it assumes in practice an importance out of all proportion to the fact that it is something extrinsic, while the other values are intrinsic. This phenomenon should already give us a hint concerning the nature of clothing. Clothes are never merely extrinsic. They are like the face. They mirror forth the person behind the face. We have been speaking of the reaction against anonymity, structure, and institution, where an overreaction results in individualism instead of personalism, fragmentation instead of integration, careerism instead of group apostolate. It seems that the question of clothing is of particular importance because it becomes as it were the symbol of the reaction against all of these classical features, not just against one of them. On the other hand, is it not possible that it has become an anti-symbol, where it symbolizes individualism, fragmentation, and careerism? We hope that, even though this is such a sensitive subject, most of us are beyond the stage where rational discussion is swallowed up in emotional reactions. We seem to have forgotten that the social sciences have given us much insight into the matter of clothes. All studies of human clothing point out the basic fact that clothes are not just things. They are part of the body-person, t Leaning on the research of the social sciences, we would like to comment on two aspects of clothing: what we wear gives visible shape to our inner attitude, and in turn what we wear shapes the attitudes. In both cases, this comes from the fact that clothes have a symbolic nature. Our inner attitudes are expressed in the way we speak, act, and dress. This is the law of our being. Human clothing is not just a protection against the elements. It forms an important link in that interlocking network of symbols in which we communicate with one another. Clothes are a function of meaning even more than words. They do in fact provide the light in which people interpret our words. We all recall the story of the Turkish astronomer in The Little Prince. No learned society accepted the report of his discovery of the new asteroid until he changed from Turkish clothes into European costume. Clothing, therefore, is never neutral. While this is true for every human being, it seems that it is especially true. for women. Clothes are not blank cartridges. When Judith prepared to meet Holofernes, she knew what every woman knows. Clothes are a manifestation of inner intentionality. The medium is the message. There are three levels of our existence, each of which is manifested by the way we dress. On the first level, clothes manifest our inner attitudes. On the second level, they manifest something more superficial, a job that we have, as we see in the uniform of a policeman, a soldier, a nurse. On the third and most profound level, they symbolize our meaning. A wedding dress, for example, is more than a symbol of an inner attitude, more than a uniform someone wears to get married. It symbolizes the meaning of a person's life, which from this point on is to be a life-with-another. The same is true of the vestments worn by the priest when he is celebrating. They symbolize more than a mentality. They are not a uniform used for worship. They serve to draw the worshippers into a new mode of existence. The symbolic aspect of clothing is obvious. There is another aspect of clothing, I see for example in Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences the entries under "Dress," "Fashion," and so forth; see also: J. C. Flugel, The Psychblogy of Clothes (New York, 1950), and Mary Shaw Ryan, Clothing: A Study in Human Behavior (New York, 1966). Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/3 however, which we do not think about as often. Clotl as the saying goes, "clothes make the man." In a ge man more really than man makes the clothes. All psychologists, and for that matter anyone w aware that the most sure way to change a person's v the symbols which surround his life. A person's changing his ideas alone. The change comes fr( meaningful sense symbols which gradually change sudden a person finds himself thinking in a different way a person dresses affects the way he thinks. self-image; they create it. Clothes are like reflectors. are, but they also act as reflectors in which we see of what we see. It is of great importance for religious to avail the~ matter of clothing provided by the social scientists. 0 that clothes are a way of speaking. The question to be To what extent should what I wear speak to others' inner character, or my job, or my meaning? Similarb psychological effect that clothes have on our thinking" Let us sum up our remarks for this first part. We r~ growth depend on the harmonious interworking of t many cases we saw th, at these components, insteac ended up in antagonistic positions. This can be trace overreaction to what is called a classical mentality. Ma from reaction, but where reaction gets out of bound: frustrate progress. We pointed out three areas in whi have been particularly strong: against anonymity, : nature of religious life which we globally describ~ commented on the fact that attitudes toward, religi influenced by the same type of reaction. The Loss of Shared Values and Shared Vision We mentioned above that the components of c! synthesis through shared faith and shared values. Whe works and lives at cross purposes. They are like rowe trying to row in his own direction. There is no doubt that the atmosphere of seculari~ and hearts of many religious. This is a process of h that are distinctively Christian are leveled to a vague, h betterment. Those values of the gospel which are rationalistic mind and sinful nature are de-scandaliz~ categories of relevance. Those gospel values which res Such are the scandal of the cross, the virtues of h~ renuntiation, repentance, and penance. In some cases secularization has not only de-Christ: even infected the ideas that some religious have about To all appearances some religious seem to have lost the Sometimes the gospel values crystalized in the tra chastity, poverty, and obedience, are lost in the perf~ vows is "updated" into some more meaningful an~ 359 es not only manifest the man; luine sense, clothes make the no knows human nature, are ,hole personality is to change character is not changed by ,m the pressure exerted by the concepts, until all of a way than he did before. The They not only express his ['hey not only reflect what we urselves and assume the shape tselves of the insights into the ne cannot avoid the basic fact answered by everyone is this: ' Should clothes manifest my ,, we have to be aware of the entioned that all progress and ~e components of growth. In of supporting one another, at least in great part, to an ny positive features can come ~ it delivers ultimatums which .~h this overreaction see.ms to ;tructure, and the corporate d ds institution. Finally we ~us garb are to "some extent ~ange are kept in a healthy a these are lost, a community rs in a boat, each of whom is ation has infected the mind~ arizontalization where values umanistic concern for human a perennial scandal to the d and adapted to the bland st adaptation are abandoned. ~nility, docility, abnegation, anized the gospel, but it has God, Christ, and the Church.

Issue 29.5 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~vxEw FOR l~mcxous; 6t2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for amwering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32i Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgx06. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1970 by REVIEW FOR R~LlCIOU. at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MaC/- land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two yeats; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be ¯ accompanied by check or money order paya-ble tO RZVXEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where ex¢ora. partied by a remittance, should be sent to R£vI~w FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~OX 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, busine~ correspondence, and orders not a¢¢ompanid by a remittance should be sent to REvll~W l~Ol~ RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimort, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW ~OR RF.LIOIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building ; 539 North Grand Boulevard: Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 5 ,!111; JOHN W. O'MALLEY, S.J. History, the Reformation, and Religious Renewal: Pluralistic Present and New Past Even the most cautious historian would probably be willing to subscribe to the sweeping generalization that Roman Catholicism has changed more radically in the past four years than it had in the previous four hundred. A sense of uprooting and upheaval is inevitable under such circumstances, and we should not be surprised that the resulting tension has been felt most acutely in religious communities. These communities presumably" are the places of keenest religious sensibilities and, at least until recently, the places where the traditions of the past were professedly cultivated. But the changes have often shattered these traditions and have inter-rupted the sense of continuity with the 'past. The conse-quent confusion has forced religious to turn, sometimes somewhat desperately, to any quarter which promises rescue. Somewhat paradoxically, religious even turn to history, in the hope that the long narrative of the Church's pilgrimage will throw light on the present crisis. Often the specific focus of their interest is that other era of history well known .for its religious tension and tt~rmoil, the age of the Reformation. This focus is at least in part due also to the !fact that the theology and spirituality of the Reformation era had been protracted in the Church to the very eve of Vatican II. In studying the sixteenth century many religious were to some extent ~tudying themselves. The present author, as a practicing historian of the Reformation, has frequently been asked by religious in 4- ¯ Fr. John W. O'Malley, S.J., is as-sociate professor in the department of history; University of Detroit; Detroit, Michigan 48221; . VOLUME 29, ~.970 ÷ ÷ ÷ 1. W. O'Malley, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 636 the past several years to answer the following question: Is not the present upheaval in the Church very similar to .the upheaval of the Reformation era? The following pages will attempt to answer that question and to use it as a focus to explore the unprecedented nature of the aggiornamento we are experiencing today. It is to be hoped that such an exploration will be helpful to reli-gious in trying to understand their present situation in history and in describing to them the drastic creativity which is required of them in the renewal of their own communities. "Is not the present upheaval in the Church very simi-lar ~o the upheaval of the Reformation era?" The ques-tion begs for an affarmative answer, and such an answer is indeed suggested by many obvious similarities between the sixteenth century and the twentieth century. Both centuries,, for example, experienced a challenge to papal authority; both centuries tried to revise the forms of religious life, saw large numbers of men and women leaving religious life, and so forth. However, in spite of the many similarities and in spite of the measure of consolation which an affirmative answer might bestow, the fundamental reply to the question has to be a re-sounding negative. The present upheaval is radically different from the upheaval of the sixteenth century. It is important for us to see just how it is radically different, for only then can we cope with the practical repercus-sions which such a difference has on our own lives. In order to explore this topic we must first expose two assumptions which are the basis of the discussion which is to follow. These assumptions are simple and familiar to us all, but they bear repetition because they are so fundamental. First of all, behind every action there is an idea. Ideas are power. They are dynamic in character and even the most abstract of them tends eventually to issue in action and to influence conduct. Therefore, to study an idea is to study the energetics of social change. Secondly, behind every idea there is a culture, a fabric of thought and feeling of which any given idea is a partial expression and reflection. The idea may even have been created by the culture in question, for ideas are not eternal. They are born at some particular time and in some particular place. Or if the idea was merely inherited fxom an older culture, it is modified and changed by the new culture as the new culture accepts it as its own. In the study of the history of ideas, sensitivity to the total cultural context is an absolute prerequisite for discerning an idea's birth, de-velopment, and even total transformation, in the course of its history. The idea towards which we shall direct our attention is the idea of Christian reform :or renewal. As an idea it has its own history, which is a reflection and expression of the various cultures where it was and is a vital force. This history until recently was not much investigated by historians, but it is now receiving more adequate atten-tion. We shall try to trace this history very briefly, with special emphasis on the Reformation era, in the con-viction that such an endeavor will be enlightening and helpful for us in our present crisis. In particular, we shall contrast the cultural framework which undergirded the idea of reform in the age ,of the Reformation with that which undergirds aggiornamento today. Recent studies on the origin and early development of the idea of reform in Scripture and the fathers of the Church have shown that in those early'centuTies reform meant the transformation of the individual Christian into God's image and likeness. It had not as yet occurred to Christians in any very c6herent fashion that the Church as an institution--or rather that institutions in the Church--might be subject to reform and revision. The idea of institutional reform surfaced for the first time during the so-called Gregorian Reform or Investi-ture Controversy of the eleventh century. During this period the functions and allegiances of the episcopacy were at the center of the bitter contest between pope and emperor, and it was the papacy which wanted to change the status quo by returning to what it felt was an older and sounder tradition before bishops had become sub-servient instruments of royal and imperial policy. With the Gregorian Reform the idea was inserted into the Western ecclesiastical tradition that the Church it-self was subject to reform. The impact of this idea upon later history is incalculable. From the eleventh century forward the idea would never again be absent from the story of the Church; and at some times, as in the early sixteenth and the mid-twentieth centuries, it would come to dominate and profoundly disturb that story. By the early years of the sixteentll century we can honestly say that a reform hysteria had set in. Reform had become the common preoccupation, almost obsession, of the age. What is to be said about [ireform in the sixteenth century? Perhaps the first thihg which strikes our at-tention is the almost limitles~ variety of reform ideas and reform programs. We see stretched before us a chaotic panorama in which it is hard to find order, progression, or consistency. The figure of Luther, of course, dominates the scene, and he to some degree influenced, at least by way of reaction, all reforms in the century: But we are really hard pressed to find a very obvious intellectual affinity between him and a refbrmer like Michael Servetus, who denied the Trinity and ÷ ÷ VOLUME: 29,' 1970 6:~7 I. w. O,M,a~y, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 638 who taught that the corruption of Christ's doctrine, which began with the Apostles and which was furthered by the fathers and scholastics, was brought to inglorious constimmation by contemporary ~eformers like Luther. And what direct relationship was there between an Anabaptist quietist like Conrad Grebel and an Ana-baptist visionary like John of Leyden, who made polyg-amy obligatory at Mfinster and maintained himself there in voluptuous, polygamous opulence? Even within Catholicism a great gap separates Gasparo Contarini, the conciliatory Venetian nobleman and friend of St. Ignatius, from the fierce and rigid Gian Pietro Carafa, at .whose election to the papal throne even Ignatius blanched. The more we learn about the sixteenth cen-tury the more clearly we see how complex and variegated it was. Generalization seems impossible. And the at-tempt to compare it with the twentieth century seems even more impossible, for we are all keenly aware of the variety and even contradiction which characterizes contemporary ideas of reform and aggiornamento. We have set ourselves an impossible task. ¯ On the other hand, if what we said earlier about cul-tural patterns is true, all of these reform phenomena should be able to be studied as manifestations of a common culture. There should be somewhere, if we dig deeply enough, elements manifestative of a common intellectual and emotional experience. These elements, though distinguishable from one another, also com-penetrate one another, so that in speaking of one of them we to some extent are also speaking of the others, since all are facets of the same cultural reality. We are justified, therefore, in our undertaking, especially if we keep clearly in mind how precarious it is and how subject to exception is almost every generalization. In our comparison of the sixteenth with the twentieth century we shall concentrate on two elements or phe-nomena which are particularly significant for out topic and particularly revelatory of the character of the two cultures. The first of these phenomena we shall designate as the cultural parochialism of the sixteenth century and the cultural pluralism of the twentieth. The cul-ture of the sixteenth century was a parochial culture. The great controversies of that century were carried on within what we now see to be the narrow confines of the Western intellectual tradition. One reason why the sixteenth century was an exciting century in which to live was that it initiated through its voyages of dis-covery the new age of world consciodsness which we experience today. But only the faintest glimmers of. this world consciousness had penetrated to Europe by 1517. It is true. that in the Italian Renaissance, which to some extent was contemporaneous with the Reforma-tion, there was a greater awareness of cultural diversity. Moreover, there was an attempt to come to terms with it. Both Nicholas of Cusa and Marsilio Ficino speak of the splendor which comes to religion from the diversity of rite and ritual which God permits throughout the world. But such tolerance and breadth of vision was not characteristic of the European intellectual scene as a whole. Indeed, even where these virtues were. operative they eventually tended to be snuffed out by the harsh polemics of the religious controversies. The very dictum "Scripture alone," which we associate with the Protes-tant reformers, is symptomatic of what was happen-ing. No matter what is to be said of this dictum as an expression of theological principle, from the cultural point of view it suggests narrowness and constriction of vision. The Catholic formula, "Scripture and tradi-tion," is broader and suggests an urbane and mature consciousness of complexity, but it, too, implies more restriction than the ideas of Cusa and Ficino. The re-formers--- Protestant and Catholic--railed against what they felt were the paganizing tendencies' of the Renais-sance, and we often echo their judgments even today. But much of this so-called paganizing can be more be-nignly and more accurately .interpreted as a serious at-tempt to broaden the cultural base of Christianity. The cultural parochialism of which we have been speaking was made possible and even fostered by the slow and inadequate means of communication which the sixteenth century had at its disposal. More im-portant, these slow and inadequate means made it possible for sects to develop and for governments to impose a particular and rigid religious style on whole populations. In other words, it was still possible to ex-clude those factors which would tend to develop re-ligious and cultural pluralism or to operate for a more broadly based unity. German Lutheranism, Dutch Calvinism, Spanish Catholicism could continue to perdure as distinct and seemingly relentless cultural .phenomena only because they were protected from fac-ing the challenge of cultural and religious diversity. We today have no such protection, and we cannot construct barriers to keep out what we find offensive and disturbing. In the modern world pluralism is the very air we breathe, and it is one of the most signifi-cant factors influencing us and marking us off from all men who have ever preceded us on this globe. Modern means of communication have introduced the otherwise-minded into our very homes, and we have no instrument to muffle them. We must come to terms with diversity. ÷ :÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 639 4. I. w. o'Mo~, s.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 640 Our: Christianity, therefore, and our style of renewal must come to terms with it. Ecumenism, for instance, is not simply an accidental adoi:nment to our religious and intellectual style. It is not simply a good idea that we concocted and then tried to thrust down the throat of an unwilling Church. We perhaps cannot describe it as inevitable, but we cer-tainly can describe it as symptomatic of the culture in which we live and urgently required by it if we genuinely believe in truth and honesty. Our experience of pluralism has forced us all to admit the possibility of different, complementary, con-trasting, and at times almost contradictory insights into the same data. It has forced us to realize that each of these, insights may have some validity and that no set of categories can capture any reality in all its splendor and multiplicity. This realization, has not made us gkeptics, but it has made us cautious in our judgments and aware of how relative our insights might be. Our experience of pluralism has thrust upon us a new epistemology. In the sixtbenth century the assumption which under-lay religious discussion was that truth was one and that orthodoxy was clear--clear either from Scripture or from the teaching of the Church. Cultural parochialism fostered this assumption. It allowed beliefs to perdure untested by confrontation with different beliefs. The epistemology of the sixteenth century, parochial and rigid with the academic rigidity of the scholastic de-bates, made little allowance for the possibility of plural-ism of insight. It insisted upon the exclusive validity of a single insight, with a consequent insistence upon the exclusive validity of particular categories and concepts. Truth in such a system is not multifaceted and ever some-what beyond our grasp, but monolithic and subject to our despotic contro!. It is de jure intolerant. Its particular formulations are so many weapons for use in battle ¯ against other equally parochial formulations. Polemic, therefore, is its appropriate literary style. The theology of the sixteenth century is quite cor-rectly described as polemical and controversialist theol-ogy. We perhaps fail to realize how appropriate such a style of theology was to the cultural experience and epistemological presuppositions of that century. To an intolerant truth corresponds an intolerant literary form. No other form would be honest. The only possible explanation for a person's refusal to accept the true and orthodox insight must be moral perversity. Hence, orthodoxy and virtue, heterodoxy and vice were the two sets of inseparable twins. Significantly enough, the characteristic literary form of the Italian Renaissance was the dialogue, the form which implies an awareness of diversity and a willing-ness to live with it. It was an awareness too delicate to be able to contain the religous resentments which ex-ploded in 1517. But it is not too delicate today. Dialogue is the literary form required by our epistemology, which has been conditioned by our experience of cultural pluralism. Dialogue and rapprochement are not arbi-trary creations of the ecumenist. They are necessary corollaries to being intellectually honest in the latter half of the twentieth century. Our style of renewal, therefore, cannot be apodictic, autocratic, intolerant, or suffused with old-time single-minded zeal. Our culture--that is to say, WE, as prod-ucts and creators of that culture--require something else. Our style is radically different. It is groping and tentative. It is experimental and participati~ve. It is even somewhat double-minded, for it realizes that even re-ligious reform must keep an eye on secular realities precisely as potential for religious values. The second phenomenon manifestative of the cul-tural divergence of the sixteenth century from the twentieth century is perhaps more important: the sense of history operative in the two centuries. Here, es-pecially, we must beware of giving the impression that each individual in the sixteenth or twentieth century thinks about his past in precisely the same way. In the sixteenth century, in fact, historical thought ranged from the subtle understandings of persons like Fran-cesco Guicciardini and Desiderius Erasmus to the crudest forms of apocalyptic. However, we can say that, by and large, sixteenth-century thinkers discerned some consistent and coherent pattern in the historical process, and they saw this process as directly under the divine influence. They usually arrived at their formulations of such a pattern by a very arbitrary fusion of historical fact with metahistorical speculation which they drew from Antiquity and the Middle Ages. The result was often a hodge-podge of myth, metaphysics, and unsub-stantiated historical data. From this was constructed a pattern of expansion or decline or cycle or cataclysm or culmination which was presented to the reader as God's design. Thus the author was able to rise above history's mystery and to protect himself from history's terror. There was one very important consequence of this approach to history: it tended in some fashion to absolutize the past. The religious thinkers of the six-teenth century all tended to see past events, especially religious events, as issuing from God's hand and as under His direct influence. They were not particularly Renewa/ VOLUME 29, 1970 641 ~. W. O'Mall~, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 642 concerned with the singular, contingent, concrete hu-man causes which produced particular phenomena. They were concerned rather to see them as products of di-vine providence, as r~eflections of the divinity, as neces-sary elements in a predetermined pattern. They thus tended to endow them with an absolute value which defied reconciliation with the contingent historical cir-cumstances under which they had come into being. The contrast of this style of historical thinking with our own is dramatic. We all have acquired to a greater or lesser degree some measure of historical conscious-ness ~s defined in terms of modern historical method and hermeneutics. What this means is that we approach the past as a human phenomenon which is to be under-stood in terms of human thought and feeling. Each person, event, doctrine, and document of the past is the product of contingent causes and subject to modification by the culture in which it exists. Everything in the human past is culturally conditioned, which is just another way of saying that it is culturally limited. Such awareness of cultural conditioning distinguishes modern historical consciousness from that which pre-ceded it, and it is an awareness which has been growing ever more acute since the nineteenth century. The text of Luke's Gospel could have been produced only by first-century Judaic-Hellenistic Christianity. Fifteenth-century humanism would have created a completely different text, different in concept as well as in language. Awareness of such cultural differentiation helps make Scripture scholars today much more keenly conscious of how Scripture is the word of man than they are of how it is the word of God. Until quite recently the very opposite was the case. What modern historical consciousness enables us to understand more clearly than it was eve~ understood before, therefore, is that every person, event, doctrine, and document of the past is the product of very specific and unrepeatable contingencies. By refusing to consider them as products of providence or as inevitable links in an ineluctable chain, it deprives them of all absolute character. It demythologizes them. It "de-providential-izes" them. It relativizes them. The importance of such relativization is clear when we consider the alternative. If a reality of the past is not culturally relative, it is culturally absolute. It is sacred and humanly unconditioned. There is no possibility of a critical review of it which would release the present from its authoritative grasp. For one reason or another an individual might.reject a particular institution or set of values as not representing the authentic tradition of the past. But. there is no way to reject the past as such. There is no way to get rid of history. The two styles of historical thinking which we have just been describing radically condition the idea of re-form. If we were to describe in a word the funda-mental assumption which underlay the idea of reform in the sixteenth century, it would be that reform was to be effected by a return to the more authentic religion of a bygone era. Somewhere in the past there was a Golden Age untarnished by the smutty hand of man, an age when doctrine was pure, morals were upright, and institutions were holy. It was this doctrine, these morals, and these institutions which reform was to restore or continue. According to this style of thinking Christ somehow or other became the sanctifier and sanctioner of some existing or pre-existing order, and that order was thus imbued with transcendent and inviolable validity. For centuries many Christians thought that such an order was the Roman Empire, and that is why the myth of the Empire's providential mission and its duration to the end of the world perdured many centuries after the Empire ceased to be an effective reality. According to this style of thinking all the presumptions favor obedi-ence and conformity. Protest and dissent can only rarely, if ever, be justified. There is no way to see Christ as contradicting the present and rejecting the past. Such a style of thinking is foreign to our own. Even though as Christians we attribute a transcendent mean-ing to the person of Jesus and therefore attribute a special primacy to those documents which resulted from the most immediate contact with him, we cannot see the first Christian generation as a Golden Age. Scoiologi-cally speaking, it was the charismatic generation. His-torically speaking, it was a generation like all others-- human, contingent, imperfect, relative. The formula-tions of Christian doctrine in the great early councils must be subjected to the same radical criticism. We do not easily find in them a harvest of eternal and immu-table truth. Intellectually, therefore, we repudiate the sixteenth-century's historical style. Emotionally, however, we find a certain satisfaction in it of which it is difficult to divest ourselves. What satisfies us in this style is its fufidamental premise that somewhere in the past there is an answer to our questions and a solution to our prob-lems. If we could only get back to the ':true mind" of somebody or other, how easy it then would be to im-plement our reform. How easy it then would be to save ourselves from the risk of having to answer our own VOL:UME" 29, 1970 643 ~. W. O'Mallt'y, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 6,t4 questions and solve our own problems. This is the emotional consolation which such a style of historical thinking provides. We neatly fit ourselves, for instance, into a preconceived pattern of homogeneous develop-ment, and then we dip into the Golden Past to discover how to behave as the pattern unfolds itself. We are secure. We have been saved from history's terror. No such salvation, however, is open to us of the twentieth century. Modern historical consciousness has relativized and demythologized the past, thus liberat-ing us from it. But we are liberated only to find our-selves on our own. The past has no answers for us, and we face the future without a ready-made master-plan. It is this fact which makes our style of renewal radically different from every reform which has ever preceded it. We are painfully conscious that if we are to have a master-plan we must create it ourselves. In spite of certain superficial similarities, therefore, the problems of the sixteenth-century Reformation are not those of twentieth-century aggiornamento. Underly-ing these two reforms are two radically different cul-. tural experiences, which have radically transformed the idea of reform. Our twentieth-century idea of reform has been conditioned by our experience of religious and intellectual pluralism, and this has transformed it from pronouncement to conversation. Our idea of reform has also been conditioned by our modern historical consciousness, and this has divested us of the consola-tion of a past which answers our questions and tells us what to do. The implications of the foregoing reflections for re-newal within religious communities should be obvious. First of all, our problems will not be solved from on high by some sort of autocratic decree. Before any reasonable decision is reached on any major question a certain amount of open discussion and communal dis-cernment is an absolute prerequisite. The exercise of "obedience" is thus so drastically changed that we can well wonder if the word, with all its connotations, is really an adequate expression of what we now mean. In any case, participation and tolerance of diversity of viewpoint are now such pervasive realities of the cul-ture in which we live that there will be no viable + solutions to any problems without taking them into ac- + ¯ count. ÷ Secondly, although we do want to get back to the "true mind" of our founders, we must realize that we are in a very different cultural context than the founders were. We have to be bold in interpreting their "mind," and we must realize that even they do not answer our questions in our terms. Keligious renewal today, for the first time in the history o[ the Church, is more con-scious o~ its break with the authentic past than it is of its continuity with it. This may not be a very consoling realization, but it is one which we must constantly be aware o~ as we try to face the ~uture. Indeed, we face a new future because to a large extent we have created ~or ourselves a new past. j. DOUGLAS McCONNELL Good Stewardship Is Management and Planning J. Douglas Mc- Connell is a mem-ber of the Stanford Research Imfitute; Menlo Park, Cali-fornia 94025. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Thank God for the courage and wisdom of the fathers of the Second Vatican Councill Their decree, Perfectae caritatis, charging all institutions and orders to under-take renewal, may have provided a means that will en-able the talents of both men and women religious to be developed more fully and utilized more effectively in serving the People of God. It may also be the means by which some (not all) orders will survive in the years ahead. There is no need here to discuss the declining numbers of[ novices, the increasing numbers not taking final vows or opting for exclaustration, the growing costs of retirement, and the trend in age distributions. These are symptoms, not causes, and their disappearance rests entirely on how the orders adapt themselves to this, the latter third of the twentieth century. Historically, the least practiced parable within the Catholic Church has to have been the parable of the talents, and this is particularly true insofar as orders of religious women have been concerned. They have truly been hand-maidens of the Church; they have occupied subservient roles and have been encouraged to remain in secondary roles--interpreting kindly the motives and action of others, shunning criticism, and avoiding evaluation of another's fitness for her work or position--yet they possess tremendous capabilities. For the better part of a decade Stanford Research In-stitute (SRI) has undertaken research projects in the area of corporate planning, and for many more years in the field of management. In that time, working with members of the Fortune 500 and numbers of relatively small businesses, SRI has developed a philosophy or a set of principles that underlies the physical tasks in the planning process and exercise of management functions. In the last three years we have been privileged to work with the following orders in assessing their present and future status: Sisters of the Holy Cross, Notre Dame, Indiana; the Sisters of Charity of Mount St. Joseph, Cincinati; and the Sisters of Charity of Mount St. Vincent, New York. The 'philosophy of corporate planning has proved to be as effective for religious orders as for corporations. We do not have "the answer," and we are the first to admit that our approach evolves a little with every study and improves; but we do have a system that is logical, comprehensive, participative, timely, and oriented toward results. The system SRI follows is outlined here because we believe it offers sound means of planning for. the future, of implementing change without chaos, and of exercising true collegiality and subsidiarity. A number of sisters have even called it "the key to survival." What Is Planning? All of us plan to some extent whenever we think ahead to select a course of action. But this is a weak way of defining planning. SRI prefers to define effective planning as a network of decisions that direct the intent, guide the preparation for change, and program action designed to produce specific results. Note that the emphasis is on goal-directed action. Ob-jectives can be determined and achieved if properly planned for. The network of decisions recognizes the in-terrelationships between internal and external factors and that earlier decisions may greatly influence later ones. On more than one occasion I have heard of a diocese "giving" a high school to an order. The deci-sion to accept, in at least two instances, has meant a considerable drain on the human and financial re-sources of the orders concerned and effectively com-mitted them to that apostolate for many years, irrespec-tive of the priorities of the sisters in the congregations. Throughout our private and corporate lives we make decisions under conditions of uncertainty; and we trust, with varying degrees of probability, that the outcomes will be as anticipated. The formal process of planning described briefly here does not guarantee success, how-ever that may be defined, but it considerably enhances the probability. SRI does not talk about short and long range planning as separate functions. Planning is the function that ex-tends into the future as far as is considered desirable. If a college operated by an order requires 50 percent of its faculty to be religious (so it can provide Christian wit- 4. 4- + Stewardship VOLUME 2% 1970 647 ]. D~ .McConnell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '648 ness and remain economically viable), the retirement pattern for the next six or seven years determines what type of graduate fellowships should be offered for both the coming academic year and the several that. follow. The awarding of fellowships in its turn requires that other decisions be made.This year's budget and deci-sions should be determined on the basis of their con-tribution to the long range objectives of the institution or order, and not be de facto determiners of the direc-tion the organization takes. The Genius Founder Our research studies and project work concerned with the nature of organizations, corporate development, and successful management have indicated that, in almost every case, successful organizations of all kinds have been the brainchild of a single person or, in rare instances, of two in partnership. Names such as Vincent de Paul, St. Ignatius Loyola, Elizabeth Seton, Catherine McAuley, St. Francis Xavier Cabrini, Baden Powell, General Booth, Henry Ford, Alfred Sloan-Charles Kettering, Gen-eral Wood, Hewlett-Packard, the Pilkinton Brothers, Andrew Carnegie, and H. J. Heinz come readily to mind. By analyzing the attributes and state of mind of the "genius founder" of the business enterprise, SRI devel-oped a framework of tasks designed to re-create the mental processes of the genius entrepreneur within the management team of the corporation. Let me explain further. As we see it, the success of the "genius founder" is in large measure caused by his un-swerving dedication to setting high goals and .to reach-ing for them. He has vision on which he bases his own objectives and sets his own goals. And he does this not simply on the basis of last year's results plus some growth factor or what has always been done, but on the basis of his own perception of his own capabilities and the drive to satisfy his own needs. These attributes of vision and ~ommitment in goal setting are most impor-tant. Other distinguishing attributes of our "genius founders" appear to us to be: oA willingness to assume risk oA sense of inquisitiveness or unceasing curiosity ~Insight into relationships between concepts, objec-tives, needs, and needs satisfaction; the ability to see implications or utility ~Ability to make sound value judgments as to what is central and peripheral to attaining his objectives ~Creativity, be it in the area of product, technology, or a new marketing approach oFeasibility judgment based on foresight, experience, and a problem-solving ability oAbility to marshall the resources needed to accom-plish his objectives and goals oAdministrative ability to organize the resources to accomplish his goals and satisfy his inner needs. Organized Entrepreneurship To translate the "genius founder" or "genius entre-preneur" concept to the complex organization, SRI de-veloped a methodological framework that we call "or-ganized entrepreneurship." This framework provides a process of planning that meets the criteria of compre-hensiveness, logic (including provision for retraceable logic), participation by the corporate membership, time-liness, generation of rapid understanding based on a common frame of reference, and an orientation toward results, that is, the decisions reached can be acted on and managed. Through a series of tasks it also repro-duces corporately the distinguishing attributes of the entrepreneur. Let us now briefly go through the planning steps with their various tasks to show you how they fit together in a logical pattern. Step 1: Determination of Corporate Objectives Many institutes and orders have approached the question of who they are and what they want to achieve in overly simplistic terms. Too often purpose is expressed only in broad conceptual statements such as "the glorification of the Lord," "mercy," and "charity" and in terms such as "care for the homeless, the sick, and the aged," and "Christian education." Motherhood statements of a broad nature serve a unifying purpose but tend to let the members of a congregation under-take any work whether it really fits the primary purposes of the order or not. What a congregation is and what it is about are com-plex issues, and definitional statements formulated must take into account the expectations of the several stake-holder groups, the corporate skills and resources, and environmental change. One implication of this is that objectives have to be reviewed periodically. The end result is a family of objectives or, as people like Grangerx and Boyd and Levy2 have termed it, a hierarchy of objectives. a Charles H. Granger, "The Hierarchy of Objectives," Harvard Business Review, May-June 1964, pp. 63-74. ~ Harper W. Boyd and Sidney J. Levy, "What Kind o£ Corporate Objectives?" Journal o] Marketing, October 1966, pp. 53-8. Stewaraship VOLUME 29, 1970 64:9 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. D. McConnell REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS 650 When defining the broad purpose of an organization, one has to recognize the sometimes conflicting interests of the stakeholders, that is, the members, the diocese(s),. the suppliers, and the customers (parishes, students, pa-tients, and the like) and yet resolve the conflict. Be-neath this broad umbrella a hierarchy of objectives is formulated for each stakeholder group, apostolate area, and the generalate of the congregation. As one goes through the hierarchy, the objectives become more specific in their direction, their distance, and the rate at which they can be achieved. The specification of objec-tives also facilitates the development of key criteria for evaluating performance and, sociologically, it recognizes the reality of the situation. The refusal of many clergy to accept Pope Paul's ruling on birth control was really a move to realign those matters considered to be within the realm of individual conscience, those .considered to be within the realm of the clergy, and those considered to obe essential to the faith and therefore within the realm of the Holy See. The present thrust to clean up the environment is an expression of the expectations of the-community stakeholders whose objectives have not been accorded rightful emphasis in the past by a society that has acceded too often to the claims of industry. To develop this hierarchy of objectives it is necessary to undertake a series of analyses. Stakeholder .4 nalysis The typical stakeholders in a congregation of religious are the members, .the diocese(s), functional or apostolate groups, customers, suppliers, financial institutions, and the community within which it operates. For each stakeholder group the governing board at-tempts to answer the following broad questions: oWhat does this group want from the congregation? oWhat expectations does this group have for the con-gregation? ~To what extent are these expectations being met? ~To what extent can the congregation meet them, recognizing .that it is impossible to do everything? Expectations will relate to such items as number and quality of services provided, fees charged, availability, citizqnship, jobs provided, behavior, ethics, and morality. The analyses should take into account the present balance and reconciliation of stakeholder interests, rec-ognizing conflicting interest and expectations as well as attempting to assess what is changing that will affect future expectations. A realistic stakeholder analysis within most dioceses would reveal the extent to which the expectations of local parish priests are being met at the expense of sacrificing the interests of the other stakeholders--the students, the parents, and lthe teachers (lay and religious) staffing the schools. An~ interesting commercial example is the Unilever Company in Africa, which made realistxc stakeholder analyses and surwved the nationalistic fervor of transition fromI colonies to countries by becoming a manufacturer rather than a trader, an economic developer of local resources rather than an extractor, and a partner rather tha~n an oppo-nent. Today, Unilever has a stronger position than ever in African markets. Special studies are almost mandatory because the senior corporate managementI group can hardly be expected to know the basic underlying factors determlmng expectations and perceptions of the stake-holder groups. The provisional stakeholder analysis for ~any commu-nity would include such factors as the percentage of families directly employed by the ~nstxtut,e; the con-gregation's contribution to and percentage of local taxes, if any; the number of members in religiohs teaching, social, civic, and political jobs (full and pa~t time); the annual contributions by the congregation Ito area or-ganizations; sponsorship of local groups; pol~itical action (lobbying, testifying regardxng leg~slatxon) at all levels; and local community attitudes toward the institutions of the congregation. In overseas operations it should also include studies of such factors as ~he political climate, stability of government, acceptan~ce, cultural variables, and attitudes toward overseas-based congrega-tions. Customer analysis will vary by type of apostolate. An orphanage would have different criteria froth those of a college or a retreat center, for example. Nevertheless, all analyses should include estimates for each class of serv-ice, the total potential "customers," the actual numbers served, the "market" share by value and volume, and an evaluation of quality of service as perceivec.lI by custom-ers. As is readily apparent, data on stakeholtler expecta-tions have to be gathered from a wide variety of sources: internally within the congregation, from independent appraisers, and from those actually served. Determining Corporate Potential The final component of this first task of ~tetermining corporate objectives is the establishment of a level of ~ . aspiration in the form of the corporate potentxal. Henry Ford estimated his potential as prowd~ng e~,ery Ameri-can family with an automobile. William Hesketh Lever wanted to make cleanliness commonplace in an era when Queen Victoria took a bath "once a week, whether she ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 651 4. 4. 4. ~. D. McConnell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS needed it or not." Our genius entrepreneurs have al-ways reached high, and this has been true of religious like Saint Vincent de Paul or Martin Luther King. The SRI approach is to treat potential as an expres-sion of the governing board's attitude to the congrega-tion's future. Potential can be expressed both in Ford's and Lever's conceptual terminology and also in more pragmatic terms such as the amount of patient care pro-vided, number of students educated, social work case loads, financial soundness, professional hours contrib-uted, and average Sunday morning attendance at Mass. Corporate potential is based on all key-planning issues derived from studying the social and economic outlook, the apostolate areas in which the company is interested, the opportunities for more effective resource utilization, the likely effects of important stakeholder expectations, and a congregation's own conclusions about its level of ambition and strength of commitment. As we see it, the determination of potential stimu-late~, motivates, and enables speculation about its attain-ability. Projected results are not predictions in the com-monly accepted sense but are simply estimates of what could happen when the assumptions made turn out to be valid. The concept aims at stimulating the setting of ambitious congregational and apostolic goals. The result of this phase of the planning process is the setting of a hierarchy of corporate objectives, including a set of ambitious yet realistic human resources and financial objectives. For an order of women religious today to expect to maintain a membership of 1,500 highly qualified professionals by recruiting 50 to 60 novices a year is totally unrealistic. Sound corporate ob-jectiv. es, together with a clear concept of what religious life is all about, should enable a congregation, however, to arrest and then reverse the currently familiar down-ward trend. Step 2: The Assembling o[ In[ormation The assembling of information consists of four main tasks: An in-depth evaluation of what is being done now, an analysis of the skills and resources of the con-gregation, an evaluation of environmental change, and an appraisal of planning issues. The goals and objectives of the congregation and its apostolate areas are explicated to obtain sets of criteria for the evaluations that have to .be undertaken. Once the criteria are established, it is relatively simple (1) to de-ten- nine what information is needed and the data sources necessary for an objective in-depth analysis and evaluation, (2) to develop instruments to collect data not already in existence, and (3) to put all these to-gether. Analysis of the skills and resources of the organization requires three studies: one of government, one of human resources, and one of financial resources. SKI suggests the development of a computerized personnel inventory. This enables detailed analysis and projections to be un-dertaken, as well as aiding in matching skills and in-terests to apostolic needs. Studies of environmental change can and should be obtained from a number of sources. They may be as broad as Kahn and Wiener's ,Economics to the Year 2018/' .~ or as specialized as a local city planning com-mission's forecasts of school population. Most congrega-tions are largely unaware of the amount of information on environmental change that is available just for the asking. In planning the future staffing for elementary schools in a diocese, one order learned that a school would disappear completely within fi~e years because the city planned a freeway through the area, which would mean the razing of almost all homes in the parish. The trends in the age distxibution of an area may indicate the development of different needs in future health care (less obstetric and more geriatric and cardiac care, for instance) and types of social services offered. Undertaking environmental analysis is one thing; ensuring its acceptance and use by management is an-other. One large sophisticated American company un-dertook a test market study in Japan to see if a market existed for a type of convenience snack food. The cor-porate management were ethnocentric about this prod-uct to the point that they refused to believe unfavora-ble test market results the first and second times around and insisted the study be replicated a third time. Busi-ness has no monopoly on this form of myopia, and much of the Church's attitudes toward parochial education appears analogous. The final task in the assembling of information, the appraisal of planning issues, is undertaken by the planning group. Following house or apostolate briefings, planning issues are solicited from those judged to have "management perspective"; to contact all members of the congregation has been our rule to date. Each mem-ber submits as many issues as he desires on a standard-ized form. In the first planning cycle the issues tend to be highly oriented to the present, but experience shows that in subsequent cycles the time horizon expands con-siderably. Typically, the submitted issues identify the 8 Herman Kahn and Arthur J. Wiener, Economics to the Fear 2018 (New York: Macmillan. 1967). 4- 4- St~ardship VOLUME 29, 1970 1. D. Mc~onne// REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 654 ~functionM point of impact on the institution or con-gregation, the nature of the impact, whatever supporting evidence exists, and suggested ranges of possible action. Issues are then grouped into families of issues that have common causes, that yield to a common solution, or that can be assigned to a single responsible person. You may ask: "Why solicit planning issues from mem-bers as a major basic input to the planning process?" The underlying assumptions are that people will do only what they see is of interest and importance to them and that each individual's perception is his reality. Members of a congregation cannot be expected to devote time and energy to matters they do not consider relevant to them as religious. The system also provides government with an excel-lent upwards channel of communication and, by per-mitting every member to participate and contribute ac-tively, enhances the probabilities of acceptance of the plan and a commitment to achieve it. This participative philosophy is touched on again later in this article. Step 3: Development of Planning Actions The major superior and the members of the governing board then read through each family of planning issues, screening out those where action has already been taken or is imminent, or where incorrect perception is in-volved. In these cases executive action is indicated. Each family of issues is then reviewed in the light of the corporate objectives, special studies' highlights, the analysis of resources, and the "real" message indicated by the issues. The members of the governing group then take each family of issues and identify the kind of action it suggests, what is at stake in terms of costs and benefits, the costs (both out of pocket and opportunity) of taking action, the degree of urgency, the first and second order implications of the kind of action sug-gested, and the management personnel who should at-tend to it. These individual efforts in translating issues to responses are then reviewed by the whole of the ex-ecutive group whose discussions strive to combine re-lated actions into broader, more fundamental actions and to identify important actions still missing. Use of a task force to assist in this process may be helpful. Suggested actions emerging from this review should then be tested by whatever means deemed appropriate. Feasible actions are then grouped by three or more levels of priority. Step 4: Preparation of the Provisional Plan In this s~ep of the planning process the proposals for action are translated into specific action assignments that, when completed in detail, provide the goals, action, and controls portion of the provisional plan. This provi-sional plan corresponds with the marshaling ability of our "genius entrepreneur." We suggest the use of a specific form that, when ap-proved by the assignment group and accepted by the action assignee, represents an authorization to proceed and a cohtract to perform the specified action in the terms stated. One important set of Form 3s, as we call them, relate to the continuance of present operations and thus ensure that all aspects of the congregation's activities form part of the plan. Before final approval the Form 3s flows through the finance and planning offices, where calculations of total costs and benefits are made for each priority level and are compared with total resources available. This pro-vides the governing board with a means to decide how many and which tasks can be undertaken within the planning period. The actions, tasks, or projects selected are then built into estimates of benefits and costs to see the effects on congregational performance and where the plan will posit the congregation with respect to its current per-formance, intermediate goals, and movement toward at-tainment of the longer range objectives. At this point the planning group updates the special studies' highlights; assembles the draft statements on corporate objectives and key assumptions; and produces summaries of the action programs in terms of timing, pro forma financial statements (operating statement, balance sheet, cash flow), and resource requirements (manpower, equipment, facilities, and capital)--broken down by organizational units, priorities, and whether they are current or developmental operations. The natural advocate of each action proposed then describes it and leads discussion within the governing board to double-check the plan in terms of the realism of goals, schedules, and cost/benefit estimates, of agreed-on performance standards (that is, the rules of the game), of interdependence among organizational units, of effects of unrealistic goals on the rest of the congregation, and of whether each action proposed is justified in terms of the congregation's objectives. This may sound like a detailed process that takes a lot of central government's time, and it does. But it ensures that: oThe government group understands all aspects of the proposed plan. oWithin the context of the emerging corporate pur-pose and strategy there is a review of program con-÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 655 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. D. M~mme~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 656 tent, a rank ordering of programs, and anallocation of resources in accordance with priorities. oAn appraisal of various program combinations oc-curs, highlighting the relative emphasis on continu-ing present activities and developing new ones, the magnitude of effort required to reach each poten-tial, and the timing and sequence of interrelated programs. oAfter final decisions and allocations are made, the provisional plan is put in final form and presented by the major superior to the board for approval, and then approved programs are channeled to ac-tion assignees. The first year o£ the plan is the congregation's budget. The congregation is now at the point of managing by plan, which parallels the "genius entrepreneur" charac-teristic of administrative ability. It has succeeded in rep-licating the characteristics of the "genius entrepreneur" in a corporate framework. In subsequent periods the congregation recycles through the planning process, and the family of plans is updated and reissued. The first year of the plan as up-dated becomes the operating budget and the final year of the plan is extended. Here perhaps a word of warning is in order. Remember that lead time is an absolute necessity. It takes three to five years before major moves have a real impact on a corporation, and SRI believes that the same will hold true for congregations of religious. Maior in-depth evaluations are probably required only about every five years. In the interim period the special studies, updating of stakeholder analyses, and solicitation of planning issues from members are all that is likely to be required. Conclusion Our experience has been that the organized entre-preneurship model works. In the five years (this is the sixth) that SRI has been conducting executive seminars in business planning, more than 600 executives from over 300 companies representing every continent of the globe have participated. Many corporations, such as Coca-Cola, Owens-Corning Fiberglas, Lockheed, Merck, and Cyanamid, have been using one or more variations of the model with considerable success. The model de-scribed here is the adaptation that has been developed for congregations of religious despite the difficulties of measuring benefits and some kinds of costs when non-financial criteria are applicable. It is too early to say to what degree the orders SRI has assisted with planning have benefited, but there is every reason to believe that they are adapting with the times and will continue to be dynamic forces in the Church and wider society in the years ahead. Highly idealistic, yet realistic, spiritual and temporal goals and objectives have been determined. Honest objective evaluations have been undertaken, recommendations have been made, plans for their implementation have been drawn up, and these are being put into effect. Government has been democratized and strengthened. Management sys-tems have been introduced. And all of this has been done by directly involving some 250 members of each order in task forces and less directly involving all mem-bers through solicitation of information, opinions, at-titudes, and issues important to them. The final plan is theirs and they are committed to it. This motivation alone enhances the probabilities of success. In addition, the management skills of these congregations have been added to greatly. The sense of community has been en-hanced by the reaffirmation of congregational goals and objectives, the open realization of the pluralism inherent in any large group of people, and the translation from concept to action of both subsidiarity and collegiality. Another vital factor that enhances the probabilities of the orders strengthening themselves as a result of the introduction of modern management techniques and planning as part of their renewal is the quality of .their leadership. It takes strong, forward-looking leaders to see the benefits from and to commit their members to a major planning project such as this and then see that it reaches fruition. Good management is good stewardship of resources to attain goals and objectives and to provide the greatest benefits for all stakeholders with the resources available. One essential component of good management is plan-ning. ÷ ÷ ÷ S~ardshi~ VOLUME 29, 1970 657 LOUIS G. MILLER, C.Ss.R. The Social Responsibility of Religious Louis G. Miller, (~,Ss.R., is on the staff of Liguori Publication in Li-guori, Mo. 65057. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 658 It is in the temper of our times that religious who take the vow of poverty are under close scrutiny. The youthful generation has a sharp eye for phoniness, and they are quick to draw attention to the gap that seems to exist between professing a vow of poverty and the actual living of a poor life. The matter concerns the individual religious and it also concerns the religious order or congregation as a whole. The following reflections have to do with one aspect of the problem which, in my opinion, religious communities have, generally speaking, neglected in the past. I mean the responsibility of devoting some part of the community funds to investment in projects designed to help relieve the most pressing social problem of our time: the widening gulf between the haves and the have nots in our society. Before developing my theme, let me state that I am well aware of the self-sacrificing work being done by religious in their parishes and in teaching and nursing programs for the poor and deprived. When a parish staffed by members of a religious order goes through the inevitable cycle and changes from middle-class to low-income parishioners, the people stationed there pitch in, ordinarily, and try to adapt to the new situation that is thrust upon them with energetic zeal. What we are concerned with in this article is social consciousness on the provincial level. In the ordinary course of development, a province will accumulate funds, and it will seek ways to invest these funds. The interest from these investments goes to the support of educational institutions and missionary projects. There are two ways of doing this. A religious community can invest its funds under the single motivating principle that the investments be safe and that they bring the highest possible return. This is the course followed by many a conscientious bursar or procurator, and in the past, few questioned it. Another way of going about .the matter of investing funds would be to look for ways and means of applying them to the alleviation of the pressing social crisis of our time. No one can be unaware that such a crisis exists. It finds expression in the widening gulf between rich and poor, the increasing bitterness in the racial confrontation, and the alienation between generations that seems to result from the other factors. In Vatican II's Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life there is a very apt expression of community responsibility in this regard. After noting that "poverty voluntarily embraced in imitation of Christ provides a witness which is highly esteemed, especially today," the Decree goes on to say: Depending on the circumstances of their location, communi-ties as such should aim at giving a kind of corporate witness to their own poverty. Let them willingly contribute something from their own resources to the other needs otr the Church, and to the support of the poor, whom religious should love with the tenderness of Christ (Number 13). As we well know, the young appear to find it.difficult to put their faith and trust in any kind of "establish-ment" today. They only too readily suppose that an institution of its very nature is so hamstrung by long-standing traditions that it cannot move in the direction of new and imaginative ventures. Over and above the tremendous work being done by religious in, for example, inner city projects; over and above occasional cash donations to worthy causes, I believe we need something in the nature of a symbolic gesture on the level of capital fund investment. I believe this would serve as a large factor in winning the confidence of young people that we are indeed willing to back up our words with our deeds, and that as an institution we can take a forward step. The heart of the social crisis today, most authorities agree, is the housing problem. The United States Commission on Civil Rights calls this the "most ubiquitous and deeply rooted civil rights problem in America." The Koerner Report agrees and makes it clear that its dimensions are so great that if a solution is not found within a few years, the resultant pressures could produce riots far more terrible than those our country experienced two or three years ago. The plain fact of the matter is that while each year 1.5 million new family homes are built in the United States, nearly all of them are on a de facto segregated basis. Since World War II the FHA and VA have financed $120,000,000 in new housing. According to a ÷ ÷ Social l~sponsibitity VOL~bl~ 2% k970 .I. + L. G. MC.iSllse.Rr,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6~0 survey made two years ago by the American Friends' Service Commission, less than two percent of this housing has been available, kealistically available, to non-whites. Each year we get larger white belts in our suburbs and more compressed black cores in our cities. The black core is continually compressed inward upon itself. Recently in St. Louis representatives of the president's Commission on Civil Rights, under the chairmanship of Father Theodore Hesburgh, after long hearings on the situation there, issued a depressing report that, although legally integrated housing is in force, de facto segregation in the great majority of suburbs is still very much the order of the day. He was quoted as saying: "Everybody we interviewed admitted that we have a grave problem; but nobody knows what to do about it." I propose that we direct some of our provincial invest-ments, perhaps a tithe of 10 percent, to the alleviation of this de facto discrimination in housing. In doing so, we would not of course be pioneers among church groups. There are available for study a number of interesting examples of what can be done and has been done. In Akron, Ohio, there is a nonprofit interfaith organization, organized in 1964, called INPOST, spon-sored by local Episcopal, Lutheran, Methodist, and Presbyterian churches. INPOST has directed several million dollars of investment into a complex of 108 units of low-cost housing, 72 units of high-rise housing, and 28 town houses. It is hoped that this complex will become a model for similar developments across the country. The diocese of Peoria for the next three years will advance $35,000 annually toward urban renewal and poverty programs in their area, with special emphasis on housing projects. We have noticed in the news recently that the Chicago Jesuit province recently made available $100,000 to be used as bond money to try to keep black families from being evicted from their homes. These are families with no equity in their homes even years after purchase at inflated prices, and legally able to be evicted on missing one payment. The Franciscan Sisters of Wheaton, Illinois, have announced an $8,000,000 plan to build and operate as nonprofit sponsors a residential complex for senior citizens and middle-income families in that area. The diocese of Detroit has been a leader in approving at least one $74,000 loan as seed money for testing the feasibility of having houses prefabricated by the hard-core unem-ployed for erection in the inner city. There is a national organization,, with headquarters in Washington, D. C., called SOHI, or "Sponsors of Open House Investment." Congressman Donald M. Frazer is its chairman, and numbered in its long list of sponsors is a host of distinguished Americans of all creeds and a variety of professional competences. It seeks to promote investment by individuals or by non-profit institutions of about 10 percent of their available investment capital in housing that is open to all. The organization does not itself invest. But it alerts indi-viduals and nonprofit groups to investment opportuni-ties in equal housing. It seeks to bring together investors of good will and housing professionals who are com-mitted to open occupancy. It operates on the principle that if a person cannot do anything himself to help solve the housing problem, his funds, if he has money to invest, can be an eloquent voice to help in the terrible silence of the decent in facing up to the housing problem that exists in our Country today. Under the slogan "National Neighbors" it seeks to build bridges of understanding between people, whatever their race or color. The Headquarters of SOHI is located at 1914 Connecticut Ave., N. W., Washington, D. C. 20009. Objection to these proposals can be made, of course, on the grounds that there is a smaller interest rate on such investments, and they are not as safe as blue chip stocks. Also, the objector might continue, the religious community needs all the money it can scrape together in these difficult times to support the various projects already in operation. But I submit that this does not absolve us from our social responsibility. If things are tough for us, they are much tougher for a great many people in the have-not group. They are a lot tougher even for people who have the money, but who can't buy a home in a decent neighborhood because their skin is black. If the social problem in our country is not met and dealt with, the most gilt edged investments will not be of much use or solace in the turmoil and violence that may follow. ÷ ÷ ÷ so~d VOLUME 29, 1970 661 SISTER M. RITA FLAHERTY, R.S.M. Psychological Needs of CeBbates and Others ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Rita is chairman of the Department of Psy-chology; C~rlow College; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 662 Today when the value of celibacy--to which so many thousands of priests and religious are committed--is being questioned, it seems important that every facet of the problem be examined. The questioning seems to be the result of: (1) Vatican II's emphasis on the true value of marriage as a way of life that can lead to the highest sanctity and spiritual fulfillment, (9) the research of Biblical schoIars which raises questions about the time, place, circumstances, and even authenticity of those words of Christ which were formerly quoted in defense of celibacy, (3) the difficulty of practicing celi-bacy in a culture that places a high premium on sexual pleasure, and (4) the emotional difficulties that can arise as a result of deprivation of this important physical and psychological need. While all aspects of this problem deserve close study, it is with the last aspect that this paper will be concerned. In spite of all these problems and new discoveries, there are many religious and priests who cannot ignore what they believe is the prompting of the Spirit to live a celibate life. These people who choose to live in the unmarried state are entitled, it would seem, to have this freedom and also to have any help from psychologists or others who can aid them in solving some of the problems that may arise as a result of that choice. Although this study is directed toward the needs of celibates, actually much of the material is applicable to both married and unmarried alike. Basic psychological needs are to a great extent universal, differing only in emphasis and means of satisfaction from one cultural group to another. In studying the behavior of humans, psychologists in general would conclude that all behavior is motivated, that is, it arises from some need within man. Behavior, as defined by psychologists, is an attempt to provide satisfaction for a need. What is a need? What happens when a need is experienced? A need is a state o[ tension or disequilib-rium that results from some lack within the person. When this need is felt, it causes the person to become tense and restless; it activates him to perform some action in order to relieve the need--to get rid of the tension and to achieve a state of ~atisfaction or equilib-rium. A man who is watching a television 'show may not be conscious of his need for food, but he does become restless while watching and jumps up at the commercial and goes to the refrigerator to find something to eat. This behavior is directed towards a goal that will relieve the tension from hunger. Hunger is classified as a physical need, along with thirst, need for sleep, for oxygen, for elimination, for sex, and for many other activities that help to maintain a state of physical satisfaction. Each of these physical needs is tied in with a biological system within the body which in most cases depends on satisfaction of the physical need for survival. One cannot imagine a man being deprived of oxygen for more than eight minutes or deprived of water for more than a week or of food for much more than a month, without dying. Therefore when the person becomes aware of the lack of oxygen, water, or food he becomes agitated and rest-less and gradually filled with tension until he finds a suitable object to satisfy his need. And so it is with all the other physical needs, .including sex, except that the need for sex seems to be the only one which is not necessary for the individual's preservation of life--it is, however, very important in the preservation of the race. For this reason celibates need not worry about endangering their lives, but they must expect a certain amount of frustration and tension resulting from the deprivation of this basic physiological drive which in man is also part of his whole personality. However, physical needs comprise only one of three categories that may be termed human needs. One must also consider psychological and spiritual needs in studying human behavior. Although many psychologists discuss a large variety of psychological needs the five most com-monly mentioned include: affection, security, achieve-ment, independence, and status. Since these needs are more subtle and do not usually lead to loss of life, people are often unaware of the tension created by them. Yet the tension can become very strong and even lead in some individuals to a complete disorganization of personality which could be termed a kind of psy-chological "death." ÷ ÷ Sister Rita REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS TiLe need for affection implies the need to give and receive love. This is very important throughout life, but seems most important during infancy and early childhood, in studies done by Ribble, Spitz and others young infants deprived of mothering, that is, fondling, petting, and other signs of affection have in some cases gradually wasted away in a disease called maras-mus. Older children and adults may not die from lack of affection but they may develop some severe person-ality deviations. The second psychological need mentioned is that of security which Karen Homey defines as the need to feel safe from the dangers of a hostile and threatening world. Physical security is not the important element here as was demonstrated by the children who ex-perienced the terrors of the London bombings during the Second World War. It was found after the war that those who were separated from their parents and sent to places of safety in the country showed more psychological disturbance and insecurity than those who lived through the raids in the city of London while staying with their parents. Evidently the presence of people who love you makes one feel more secure than any amount of physical safety in the presence of strangers. As adults, we experience insecurity when we fear that no one loves us or that those people who are present in a situation we perceive as threatening do not really know us or understand us. The next psychological need is achievement or the feeling that one has accomplished something worthwhile. The individual must be convinced himself of his achievement. Another person telling him that his work is good is not sufficient if he himself is dissatisfied with the outcome. Therefore when one reaches a personal goal, a feeling of real achievement can be experienced-- but often p~ople who are deprived of affection or feel insecure cannot feel a satisfying experience of achieve-ment. The anxiety that is generated by deprivation of these other psychological needs may either paralyze their efforts so they cannot achieve, or if they do achieve, the results are rendered personally unsatis-fying. Once a person can achieve, however, he usually wants to become independent. The need for independ-ence involves the ability to make decisions and take responsibility for one's own actions. During adolescence this need gets very strong and continues throughout life. One can never be considered a mature adult until he has achieved an independence of "though.t, decision, and action. Finally the need for status or a feeling of self-worth must be considered as probably the most improtant psychological need found in humans. The need for status includes the desire to be a worthwhile person-- to be a good person. Everyone has this very basic need to see himself as a person who is worthwhile. Anyone who views himself as bad, inferior, or inadequ.ate does not satisfy his need for status. More Americans are visiting clinical psychologists today because they "hate" themselves, than for any other reason. If this need for self-worth is not fulfilled the person cannot be really happy. A final category of human needs is not usually men-tioned in psychology books but should be noted here, that is, spiritual needs. These include a need to believe, love, and worship an absolute Being--someone outside of man who is infinitely good and powerful. Spiritual needs also include the need to "live for others," to go out to others, to have a meaning for one's life. Depriva-tion of needs in the spiritual area are less perceptible, that is, many people can seemingly go for years without showing tension over these needs. However, because these needs are most subtle does not mean they do not exist or that they are less important. Since psychology is a relatively new science it is understandable that very little investigation has been conducted in this intimate but obscure area of man's personality. Victor Frankl and other psychotherapists are writing more often these days about existential neurosis, which is a frustration and anxiety caused by a lack of purpose in one's life. Those individuals who see no purpose in life or reason for living may very often be suffering from a deprivation of spiritual needs. Now in considering the problems brought on by these needs one must remember that they can be operating on a conscious or an unconscious level. A man may be aware that he is hungry and go in search of food, or sometimes he may be unaware that the frus-tration, tension, and even depression he experiences could be eased by eating a good meal and perhaps getting a good night's sleep. So, while most physical needs are consciously felt, sometimes needs for food, sex, sleep, and so forth may be causing tension for which we cannot account. The psychological needs are much more likely to operate on an unconscious level, perhaps because many people would be loathe to admit their needs for affection, approval, status, and so forth. It is possible for a person to be aware that he needs to be loved or esteemed by others, but it is more likely that he would repress this, thereby causing the need to operate on the unconscious level. Finally, spiritual needs are most likely to be 4- 4- 4- Need~ o] Celibates VOLUME 29, 1970 665 Sister Rita REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 666 repressed and many people go through life not realizing that they have a human need for God--a need to depend on an all-powerful Being for love and help. One might ask how a discussion of these needs js involved in the problems of celibates. It is the thesis of this paper that many celibates can stand the frustration involved in a deprivation of the sex need if other needs are adequately met. For religious it is likely that the physical and spiritual needs are satisfied more often than the psychological ones. Because of faulty training in the areas of friendship, detachment, and obedience a number of celibates ex-perience extreme frustration in areas of at~ection, security, and independence. Because of a fear of engendering pride or a false concept of humility many religious practices have also deprived individuals of a feeling of self-worth. Rarely in the past was praise given for work well-done, and it is the unusual person who can satisfy his need for self-esteem unless he sees others regarding him as a good person. In the past some celibates ma~ have been able to maintain some feeling of worth and goodness based solely on the assumption that celibacy was a "higher" form of life than marriage. Now, postconcilar writers are emphasizing that all states of life can lead to sanctity and that all Christians are called to lead a life of perfection. By thus equalizing the various states, the only prop that some celibates had for a feeling of self-worth (admittedly it was a poor onel) has been pulled away from them. Also in the past the People of God tended to look to those leading a celibate life as somehow being better than non-celibate Christians. Now there is a tendency in Catholic books, articles, and newspapers to question the value of celibacy. This questioning accompanied some-times with a kind of ridicule and cynicism may even-tually cause some celibates to become skeptical about the celibate commitment they have made. Those religious and priests who are abandoning the state of celibacy and seeking dispensations to marry are not necessarily suffering primarily from the deprivation of the sex need. It may be that a person who feels lonely, unloved, and unappreciated may seek in the marriage state the companionship, love, and appreciation that could legitimately have been given him in a loving Christian community. On the other hand, it must be admitted that some celibates may feel it necessary to invest their love in one person of the opposite sex, and thus realize that marriage is the only solution for them. In a recent study cited in the International Herald Tribune (March 10, 1970) the results of a Harvard study conducted by James Gill, S.J., showed that in the case of the 2500 priests leaving the United States priest-hood each year, celibacy does not seem to be the major causal factor. Father Gill indicates that he finds that the priests who are leaving and marrying are very often depressed. The priest dropout was most often a man who found himself taken for granted in a crowded system that sometimes denies the human need for approval. This discovery has caused some of the Church's most dedicated and talented priests to become sad, lonely, disillusioned, and resentful. As one examines these findings of Gill, one is reminded of a similar syndrome that psychiatrists have found in many young business executives--men who find themselves caught up in a structure filled with activity but which leaves the individual disillusioned with a system that deperson-alizes him. It is likely, then, that the American culture is a big factor in the working structui~e of the Church in the United States and that the same conditions that operate in the society to dehumanize the individual are also operating in the Church structure. In a personality analysis, Gill found that many of the priest dropouts were task-oriented men, who were raised by their parents in such a way that the achieve-ment of goals, particularly difficult ones, appealed strongly to them. They tended to go about their work in a compulsive, perfectionistic way, not seeking or enjoying pleasure from it, but aiming unconsciously at the recognition and approval they would gain from those they served. Father Gill goes on to show that when this recognition and approval are not experienced, the priest is in deep emotional trouble. It takes between five and fifteen years for a priest like this to experience the disillusion-ment that will eventually lead to some kind of a crisis. The priest then begins to feel that he is being taken for granted, that nobody seems to care how hard he has worked. Usually priests like this have so consistently performed in a better than average manner that bishops and religious superiors simply expect that they will do a good job. Since applause and approval come less frequently with the passing years the priest gradually feels more and more dissatisfied with himself, with his role in the church, and with his requirement of celibacy, At this point in his life, he becomes an easy prey to emotional involvement with the first sensitive woman who comes into his life. It is evident from Gill's study and those of others that celibacy or deprivation of the sex need is not necessarily the principal problem. Many priests and VOLUME 29, '1970 religious who leave to marry are probably seeking satis-faction for basic psychological needs that could legiti-mately and rightly have been satisfied in a celibate community, or a group of Christians Who practice charity by looking out for the needs of their fellow-man. Celibates must be capable of interacting on a deep personal level with at least a few people. Through. these friendships they will be able to love and appreciate themselves, which in turn enables them to love others. ~In the past, authority figures were looked to for approval and recognition which would lead to some psychological satisfaction and a feeling of self-worth in the celibate. In the light of the findings cited above, it would seem advisable to educate all members of the celibate community (and eventually all the People of God) to a clear understanding of these emotional needs. Only in this way will it be possible for the celibate to receive from some of his peers th~ affection, approval, and sense of self-worth which is so necessary if he is to sustain the frustrations of living in a celibate en-vironment. New ideas about love, friendship, and obedience must be given to all sectors of the community, young and old alike, if the celibate is to survive psychologically. Also the value of the celibate life must be rediscovered, not as a "higher" kind of life, but as a life that can lead to a rich, happy existence as one spends it living for others and thereby living for God. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Rita REVIEW FOR" REI;IGIOUS 668 THOMAS A. KROSNICKI, S.V.DI The Early.Practice of Communion in the Hand Travel in the United States and Europe has reen-forced my impression that the practice of Communion reception in the hand has already become quite com-mon. Understandably, the reaction that it causes is quite varied. On the one hand, it is labeled another liberal innovation; on the other, it is seen as the. result of an honest endeavor to make the reception of the Eucharist an authentic sign. In any case, and this is the purpose of the present article, we should realize that this practice, now officially permitted in. Belgium, France, Germany, and Switzerland, is not an. unprec-edented development in the liturgy of the Church.1 Synoptic Considerations The Synoptic accounts record the institution narra-tive as taking place in the setting of a meal which was almost certainly the Passover meal.~ The bread that Jesus used at the Lord's Supper would have been the unleavened bread (matzoth) of the Jewish Passover rite. It is interesting to note, however, that by the time the evangelists set about to record the institution event, they simply used the Greek word "artos," or leavened bread. This is understandable since it is generally accepted by Scripture scholars that the words of institution in the Gospels present the tradition concerning the Lord's Sup-per as preserved in the very celebration of the Eucharist in the early Christian communities. It seems, therefore, that when the Eucharist was celebrated outside the Thomas A. Kros-nicld is a member of Collegio del Verbo Divino; Ca-sella ~.Postale" 5080; Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2% 1970 See "Taking Communion," Worship, v. 43 (1969), p. ~440. Mt 26:26; Mk 14:22-3; Lk 22:19. 669 ÷ T. A. Kromicki, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Passover week, leavened bread was commonly used by the early Church) We should also note in this context the word used to describe the distribution of the eucharistized bread. Jesus simply gave it to those who were present. "Take and eat," Jesus said to his apostles. The verb used is the Greek Xa~/3~vo~ which is a generic verb indicating the simple act of taking (with the hand) as is seen from the use of the same verb in Luke 22:19 where Jesus "took the leavened bread." (K~d Xo~v &prov). Frbm these considerations, though no direct proof is established, two points can be asserted. In the Apostolic Church the Eucharist was leavened bread and was dis-tributed in the ordinary manner of giving. A few selected texts ~om the writings of the Church fathers will clearly demonstrate that hand reception of the Eucharist was practiced in the first centuries. Tertullian to Cyril of Jerusalem We would not expect to find in the writings of the fathers an exact account of the mode of Communion reception that was common at their time. There was no reason for them to explain such practices. The most that one can find in searching through their works are oc-casional references to the practice. These indications point to hand reception. The oldest witness we have that the faithful received the Eucharist outside of the solemn liturgy and, in fact, in their homes, is Tertullian (d. 220). At the same time he is an implicit witness for the early practice of hand communion: A whole day the zeal of faith will direct its pleading to this quarter: bewailing that a Christian should come .from idols into the Church; should come from an adversary workshop into the house of God; should raise to God the Father hands which are the mothers of idols; should pray to God with the hands which, out of doors, are prayed to in opposition to God; should apply to the Lord's body those hands which confer bodies on demons. Nor is this sufficient. Grant that it be a small matter, if from other hands they received what they contaminate; but even those very hands deliver to others what they have con-taminated. Idol-artificers are chosen even into the ecclesiastical order. Oh wickednessl Once did the Jews lay hands on Christ; these mangle His body daily. Oh hands to be cut offl Now let the saying, 'If thy hand make thee to do evil, amputate it,' (Mt. 18.8) see to it whether it were uttered by way of similitude (merely). What hands more to be amputated than those in which scandal is done to the Lord's body? * ~ Encyclopedic Dictionary of the Bible (New York: 1963), pp. 697- 702; Joseph M. Powers, Eucharistic Theology (London: 1968), pp. 60-1. ~ Tertullian, On Idolatry (PL, v. 1, col. 744C-745A; trans.: Ante- Nicene Fathers, v. 11 [Edinburgh: 1869], p. 149). In Tertullian's To His Wife which discusses the dangers incurred by a Christian wife even with a "tolerant" pagan husband, we read: Do you think to escape notice when you make the Sign of the Cross on your bed or on your body? Or when you blow away, with a puff of your breath, some unclean thing? Or when you get up, as you do even at night, to say your prayers? In all this will it not seem that you observe some magical ritual? Will not your husband know what it is you take in secret before eating any other food? If he recognizes it as bread, will he not believe it to be what it is rumored to be? Even if he has not heard these rumors, will he be so ingenuous as to accept the explana-tion which you give, without protest, without wondering whether it is really bread and not some magic charm?" The Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus of Rome (d. 235) goes into even more detail when giving prudential advice about home (and understandably hand) reception of the Eucharist: Every believer, before tasting other food, is to take care to receive the Eucharist. For if he receives it with faith, even if afterwards he is given something poisonous, it will not be able to do him harm. Everyone is to take care that no unbeliever, no mouse or other animal eats of the Eucharist, and that no particle of the Eucharist falls on the ground or is lost. For it is the Body of the Lord that the faithful eat and it is not to be treated care-lessly. o Cyprian's (d. 258) exhortation to the martyrs en-courages them to arm their right hands with the sword of the Spirit because it is the hand which "receives the Body of the Lord": And let us arm with the sword of the Spirit the right hand that it may bravely reject the deadly sacrifices that the hand which, mindful of the Eucharist, receives the Body of the Lord, may embrace Him afterwards to receive from the Lord the reward of the heavenly crown.~ When the same author speaks of the lapsed Christians, he says: On his back and wounded, he threatens those who stand and are sound, and because he does not immediately receive the Lord's Body in his sullied hands or drink of the Lord's blood with a polluted mouth, he rages sacrilegiously against the priests? ~ Tertullian, To His Wife (PL, v. 1, col. 1408AB; trans.: Ancient Christian Writers, v. 13 [Westminster: 1951], p. 30). ' 6 Hippolytus, Apostolic Tradition, cc. 36-7 (Bernard Botte, ed., La Tradition apostolique de saint Hippolyte [Miinster: 1963], pp. 82-5; trans.: Lucien Deiss, Early Sources o] the Liturgy [Staten Island: 1967], p. 68). ~ Cyprian, Letter 56 (PL, v. 4, col. 367AB; trans.: The Fathers o] the Church [hereafter = FC], v. 51 [Washington: 1964], p. 170 where the letter appears as Letter 58). 8 Cyprian, The Lapsed (PL, v. 4, col. 498B; trans.: FC, v. 36 [1958], pp. 76-7). ÷ ÷ ÷ 2". A. KrosM¢~, $.V~D. REVIEW FOR RELI@IOUS Moreover, Cyprian gives us two accounts of persons who were not worthy to receive the Eucharist in their hands. He writes: And when a certain woman tried with unclean hands to open her box in which was the holy Body of the Lord, there-upon she was deterred by rising fire from daring to touch it. And another man who, himself defiled, after celebration of the sacrifice dared to take a part with the rest, was unable to eat or handle the holy Body of the Lord, and found when he opened his hands that he was carrying a cinder.D Hand Communion reception was certainly practiced in the time of persecution as we know from Cyprian, but Basil (d. 379) is our best witness to this fact: Now, to receive the Communion daily, thus to partake of the holy Body of Christ, is an excellent and advantageous practice; for Christ Himself says clearly: 'He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has life everlasting.' Who doubts that to share continually in the life is nothing else than to have a manifold life? We ourselves, of course, receive Communion four times a week, on Sundays, Wednesdays, Fridays,. and Saturdays; also on other days, if there is a commemoration of some saint. As to the question concerning a person being compelled to receive Communion by his own hand in times of persecution, when there is no priest or minister present, it is superfluous to show that the act is in no way offensive, since long-continued custom has confirmed this practice because of circumstances themselves. In fact, all the monks in the solitudes, where there is no priest, preserve Communion in their house and receive it .from their own hands. In Alexandria and in Egypt, each person, even of those belonging to the laity, has Communion in his own home, and, when he wishes, he receives with his own hands. For, when the priest has once and for all com-pleted the sacrifice and has given Communion, he who has once received it as a whole, when he partakes of it daily, ought reasonably to believe that he is partaking and receiving from him who has given it. Even in the Church the priest gives the particle, and the recipient holds it completely in his power and so brings it into his mouth with his own hand. Accordingly, it is virtually the same whether he receives one particle from the priest or many particles at one time?° There is reference here to more than hand commun-ion. Since no priest or deacon was present, in this case the persons communicated themselves. This was not, however, limited to times of persecution, as Basil points out. Cyril of Jerusalem (d. 386) gives us the clearest ac-count of the manner of hand communion common at his time. In his Mystagogic Catecheses addressed to his D Cyprian, The Lapsed (PL, v. 4, col. 500B-501A; trans.: FC, v. 36 [1958], pp. 79-80). Cyprian notes the practice of taking the Eucharist home and the reception of communion outside of the liturgical celebration. The Eucharist was in this ease reserved in some sort of a box. ~ Basil, Letter 93 (PG, v. 32, col. 484B-485B; trans.: FC, v. 13 [1951], pp. 208--9). catechumens we read: When you approach, do not go stretching out your open hands or having your fingers spread out, but make the left hand into a throne for the right which shall receive the King, and then cup your open hand and take the Body of Christ, reciting the Amen. Then sanctify with all care your eyes by touching the Sacred Body, and receive It. But be careful that no particles fall, for what you lose would be to you as if you had lost some of your members. Tell me, if anybody had given you gold dust, would you not hold fast to it with all care, and watch lest some of it fall /and be lost to you? Must you not then' be even more careful with that which is more precious than gold or diamonds, so that no particles are lost? u Augustine and the Early Middle Ages As we see from the above excerpts, the method of Communion reception up to the time o[ Augustine at least, indicates the practice of hand reception. With Augustine (d. 430) two innovations become apparent for the first time. The men are told to wash their hands; the women are instructed to receive the Eucharist on a white cloth, commonly called the "dominicale]" laid over their hands.1~ In Sermon 229 he writes: All the men, when intending to approach the alt~r, wash their hands, and all the women bring with them clean linen cloths upon which to receive, the body of Christ, thus they should have a clean body and pure heart so that they may re-ceive the sacrament of Christ with a good conscience.~ The same practice is mentioned in the Sermons of Caesarius of Arles.14 The first witness that this author was able to find, giving an explicit example of mouth reception of the Eucharist, was Gregory the Great (d. 604). The case in question is the reception of the Eucharist by an invalid from the hand of Pope Agapitus (535-536): While he [Agapitus] was passing through Greece, an invalid who could neither speak nor stand up was brought to him to be cured. While the weeping relatives set him down before the man of God he asked them with great concern whether they truly believed it possible for the man to be cured. They an-swered that their confident hope in his cure was based on the ~a Cyril of Jerusalem, Mystagogic Catecheses (PG, v. 33, col. l124B- 1125A; trans.: Joseph A. Jungmann, The Mass o[ the Roman Rite [London: 1959], pp. 508-9). ~ In 578 the Council of Auxerre stated the same in Canons 36 and 42 (Mansi, v. 9, p. 915). Canon ~6: "A woman is not to receive com-munion on the bare hand." Canon 42: "That every woman when communicating should have her 'dominicale.' If she does not have it, she should not communicate until the following Sunday." ~Augustine, Sermon 229 (PL, v. 39, col. 2168A). The sermon is probably by St. Maximus of Turin (Sth century). x~ Caesarius of Aries, Sermon 227 (Corpus Christianorum, v. 14, pp. 899-900; trans.: Andr~ Hamman, The Mass: Ancient Liturgies and Patristic Texts [Staten Island: 1967], pp. 242-3). ÷ ÷ ÷ Communion VOLUME 29~ 1970 673 4. 4. T. A. Krosnicki, $.V.D. REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS power of God and the authority of Peter. Agapitus turned im-mediately to prayer, and so began the celebration of Mass, offering the holy Sacrifice to almighty God. As he left the altar after the Mass, he took the lame man by the hand and, in the presence of a large crowd of onlookers, raised him from the ground till he stood erect. When he placed the Lord's Body in his mouth, the tongue which had so long been speechless was loosed.= It would be difficult to conclude from this one example that this was the common practice of the time, for it is known that on occasion the Eucharist was applied to parts of the body as a form of sanctification of the senses or as a cure.an Agapitus might have preferred in this incident to place the Eucharist on the tongue of the invalid since, as Gregory relates, the man Was mute. Gregory also notes: "When he placed the Lord's Body in his mouth, the tongue which had for so long been speechless was loosed." In the eighth century writings of Bede (d. 735) we come across another example of hand reception of communion. Describing the death of a brother, he writes in his Ecclesiastical History: When they had lain down there, and had been conversing happily and pleasantly for some time with those that were in the house before, and it was now past midnight, he asked them, whether they had the Eucharist within? They answered, 'What need of the Eucharist? For you are not yet appointed to die, since you talk so merrily with us, as if you were in good health.' 'Nevertheless,' said he, 'bring me the Eucharist.' Having re-ceived It into his hand, he asked whether they were all in charity with him, and had no complaint against him, nor any quarrel or grudge. They answered, that they were all in perfect charity with him, and free from all anger; and in their turn they asked him to be of the same mind towards them?' Periods'of Transition The transition from the reception of the Eucharist in the hand to that of the mouth as we know it today, seems to have begun at the end of the, eighth century and is allied to the change from leavened to unleavened bread. Alcuin of York (d. 804), the learned friend and counselor of Charles the Great, seems to have been the first to indicate the use of unleavened bread,is But even then, it is unclear whether he intended to state that the bread should be unleavened or merely indicates its usage. He does, however, clearly show that unleavened ~ Gregory the Great, Dialogue 3 (PL, v. 77, col. 224B; trans.: FC, v. 39, pp. 116-117. la Plus PARSCn, The Liturgy o[ the Mass (London: 1957), p. 23. 1T Bede, Ecclesiastical History of England IV, 24 (PL, v. 95, col. 214C-215A; trans.: A. M. Sellar, Bede's Ecclesiastical History o[ England [London: 1912], pp. 280-1). ~ R. Woolley, The Bread o/the Eucharist (London: 1913), p. 18. bread was used. Along with this change to unleavened bread came the introduction of the small round wafers which no longer required breaking or chewing.19 It seems that this fact influenced the change to mouth reception of the Eucharist as well. The use of the un-leavened bread with its capability of being more easily preserved became a matter of greater convenience. The Councils of Toledo and Chelsea show that there must have been some common irreverefices on the part of the clergy when using ordinary bread for the Eucharist. The best way to obviate such disrespect was to require a special bread, other than the everyday domestic type, for the celebration of the Eucharist3° Another reason for the change to unleavened bread was to forestall any confusion between the Eucharist and the common bread of the household. The change to mouth reception became a matter not only of practicality but also as the result of the misun-derstanding of the sacrality of the individual Christian. Due to the thinking of the times, the Christian was no longer considered worthy to touch the Body of the Lord with his hands.~1 With exaggerated sentiments of humility and unworthiness, the faithful received the Eucharist on their tongues. The eucharistic practice had also been influenced by the overemphasis on the divinity of Christ to the almost exclusion of his humanity. The mortal, sinful man dare not touch with his hands the all-holy, powerful God. All of this led to the point where by the ninth century hand Communion was no longer the practice. The Council of Rouen (878) explicitly condemns hand Communion reception on the part of the lalty.~ The tenth Ordo romanus, dating from the ninth century, describes mouth reception of communion not only for the laity but even for the subdeacon. Priests and deacons, after kissing the bishop, should receive the body of Christ from him in their hands, and communicate themselves at the left side of the altar. Subdeacons, however, after kissing the hand of the bishop, receive the body of Christ from him in the mouth.~ The eighth and the ninth centuries were then the 19James Megivern, Concomitance and Communion (Fribourg: 1963), p. 29. ~0 WOOLt.EY, The Bread, p. 21. ~a See K. Bihlmeyer and H. Tiichle, Kirchengeschichte, v. 2 (Pader-born: 1958), p. 120: "In this period [the Middle Ages] in order to avoid irreverences as much as possible, in place of bread to be broken, small wafers ('hostia,' 'oblata') were introduced. For the same reason the holy food was no longer placed in the hand of the faithful but directly into the mouth." m Council of Rouen (Mansi, v. 10, pp. 1199-1200). ~Andrieu, Les Ordines romani du Haut M~yen Age, v. 2 (Lou-vain: 1948) p. 361. ÷ ÷ ÷ Communion VOLUME 2% 1970 675 periods of transition from the hand to the mouth recep-tion of the Eucharist. For a time both methods must have been in use. Once again, we find ourselves in a similar period of transition. The mouth form of recep-tion is still the more common practice but no one can deny that the practice of hand reception is becoming even more common especially among smaller groups and at Masses celebrated for special occasions. From this brief and admittedly sketchy glance at his-tory, it can be readily seen that hand Communion is not really an innovation for .it seems to have been the ordinary manner of reception of the Eucharist for al-most eight hundred years. + ÷ ÷ T. A. Krosnlcki, S.V.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS EDWARD J. FARRELL Penance: Return of the Heart The theological literature on penance has been en-riched by writers of the stature of Karl Rahner, Bernard H~iring, and Charles Curran; and we have, as a result, an enlarged understanding of its significance for our own day. I do not propose to speak so much of theology as of experiences and to invite you to reflect with me and to think into the mystery of penance. I speak to you as an expert to my fellow experts, as an authority among fellow authorities, because each one of us is an authority on penance. We have long lived it and we cannot have lived so long and celebrated the mystery so frequently without in some way becoming experts, authorities, or at least persons with much experience. Living itself is an experience of penance. One thing is certain; penance is alive, and anything alive changes. One of our deepest hopes is that we cim change, be-cause penance is concerned with change--not the kind of change which we sometimes call spontaneous, which we can so easily speak of in words, but a change in a much deeper level of being and action. The sacrament of penance, or penance itself which we are experiencing today, has an aura of Spring about it. There are certain seasons, certain times, certain patterns to the Christian life even as there were in Christ's life; and we follow those patterns. Christ was buried. He arose. And the truths of Christ will not be unlike Himself. There are forgotten truths in our faith, in our life experiences which have been laid aside and buried. We can become so familiar with particular realities that we forget the language. Even our relationship with Christ can be diminished. But there is always a resur-rection, always a rising. They are like bulbs which lie bur.led and forgotten in winter's chill grip, but still are there, waiting, until, mysteriously, Spring comes and we discover them. There is an expectancy about Spring. ÷ ÷ ÷ i~.dwa~d J. Fartell is a stuff membe~ o~ 8a~ed ~ea~ 8emi-n~ y; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit; Mi~igan 48206. VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ 4. l~. ]. Farrel~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 678 There is an expectancy about penance. It is a new dis-covery for each of us, something which we have not wholly experienced before and it is important that we understand the why of thii. Penance is ancient, yet ever new. There is a "today" even though we have had a "yesterday." There is in us always a newness and an aliveness. When we were young, when we were very small, we saw things in a particular way. Then we grew, grew up, de.veloped in many areas. There is, however, a certain stabilization that takes place; and if our growth did not in some way level out, we would be sixty, eighty, perhaps one hundred feet tall. Imagine the problems of the environment thenl In our early years we thought that when our physical growth had leveled off and stabilized that our growth was finished. Yet it had only begun. When we grew to a certain size perhaps we returned to the school where we once attended kindergarten and the first primary grades. The old neighborhood looked almost quaint. It looked so small because we had grown so large. This physical growth is a true growth; yet it is after we have achieved it that the real growth takes place, the growth of mind and heart and soul, by which we are led into and beyond the senses, into the arts, literature, history, philosophy, and faith. Even in our day of specialization, as one follows ever more deeply his specialization it becomes in some strange, little un-derstood way, narrower and narrower until at a mys-terious moment it opens into a wholly new horizon. At such a moment one is made aware that this universe is too vast for the mind to grasp. It is, then, in this experience that man slowly and painfully becomes little. It is then that he begins to acquire real knowledge, real humility, that he moves toward maturity. I think that we are on the edge of this kind of growth. No longer do we need the pride and arrogance of adolescence. This humility, or perhaps humiliation, has touched all of us. We become aware of an unsureness, the unsureness of maturity; we begin at last to know that we do not know and perhaps will never know all that we so much desire to know. A pro-found transformation, a growth, an evolution now takes place in us. Now we begin to discover truths which we really had never known, yet were there awaiting our discovery, our awakening to their being. We never knew them at all, we never saw them; they were there but we did not see them. We have heard about these ideas, con-cepts, truths, perhaps even talked about them. Now, however, in this new experience we have no word, no thought, no concept, perhaps not even a theology. Now we become much more people of experienced awareness and all must be initialed with our initial and be ours in our unique w~y; otherwise, we belong to no one, nor do the truths belong to us. We begin to know ourselves in a new context of spiritual knowledge. I think this experience is true especially of the mysteries of Christ, the mystery of the Church-~which is essentially mystery--the mystery of penance, the mystery of celi-bacy; and the mystery of human action, the mystery of your act and of my act. When we do something, it is irreversible. We never can step back and undo it. .There is an act which we call a promise and that act nails down the future. It is an absurdity because who can speak for his future; and yet a promise is possible and is perhaps the most significant act a person makes; for we know, even as we make the act, that it is unpredictable; even beyond that, any act has an ano-nymity in its effect. We do not know what effect it will have, how long it will endure, what changes it will create. Humanly speaking, the past, the future, even the present are so much not in our grasp. Yet in all of our acts the mystery of Christ speaks to each one of these realities. He speaks to tile events of the past, reversing what we have done in the act of forgiveness and of penance, in the act of promise in the future which is involved in the penance, the metanoia, the change that we are seeking. The Gospel very simply summarizes Christ's begin-ning: "The time is fulfilled, the kingdom is at hand. Repent, believe in the gospel." How ancient those words are and how new; yet who has heard them? Who has heard them and put them to life? This says something about the mystery of Christ to us and the mystery of His Church which can never be separated from Him. To think of the Church without Christ is to miss the mystery of both. So we move in this deep awareness into the inwardness of Christian mystery, into a knowing, into, finally, a .meaning of penance. And penance, what is it? It is a hunger, a hunger for change; it is a hunger for newness, a hunger for life, for growth; it is a hunger for wholeness and holiness; it is a hunger for experience. Most of all, I think, it is a hunger for being with and to and for. It is a relation-ship that is being sought. It is a togetherness. It is profoundly significant that the command of Christ was: "Repent." Why did He not begin with Eucharist? Is the Eucharist not enough? Was it enough for Christ? He began with: "Repent"; He concluded with Eucha-rist. It is interesting to recall the briefly recorded con-versations of Christ with His Disciples. One day our ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 6'79 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 680 Lord asked them: "Who do you say I am?" They are always interesting, both the questions of Christ and the commands of Christ, because they are so personal, be-cause they are asked directly of us throughout the whole of our life, and because these are the call He gives to us. He asked: "Who do you say I am?" To answer for the whole group, one volunteered--Peter, and he called back who he was. At the end of our Lord's mission, after the resurrection, He spoke to Peter again but this time He spoke his name: "Simon Peter, do you love me?"--not once, not twice, but three times. By name, He called him out by namel "Simon Peter, do you love me?" and as a consequence of Peter's answer, He gave another command. He said: "Feed, feed my sheep"- strengthen your brethren. Long ago you all made profession and how many times have you made confession since? What is the re-lationship between profession--confession? You cannot find it in the dictionary, but I think there is a very necessary correlation between profession and confes-sion. Peter's profession of faith and Peter's confession of love--this is what penance is all about. Really, sin is a very secondary thing.'Sin is unimportant to Christ. Penance is about a change, a change in our capacity to love. You made your final profession in words and we are all moving toward our final confession. Each one of us has his own history of penance. Just imagine trying to go over your confessions the last year or five years or ten years; imagine forty years of confessions, and how many confessions have yet to be made? Confession: we know the confessions of Jeremiah in the Old Testament, about the mirabilia Dei, the wonder-ful things of God; the confessions of St. Augustine have disappointed many a reader who was looking for true confessions and there is so little there---eating a few pears, an illegitimate child. Really all he is talking about is the first extraordinary discovery and the ongoing discovery of the love of God for him and the power it effected in him. This is why we can speak of his con-fessions. Penance is first of all a confession, a song of praise to God. How unfortunate we are. We so often have said and perhaps still do say: "I cannot find any-thing to confess." Well, even if we did, it would be merely a partial confession because the first thing about penance is to find something, to find the love that one has received, to sing about it, to confess it. Penance is first of all an act of prayer and of worship, of thanks-giving, a recognition, a discovering of the wonderful love of God for us. But that is only part of it because it is only in the strength of this love that there can be sin. If one has not yet tasted or seen or felt something of the love of God, then he cannot sin because sin is cor-relative to love, and there cannot be any sin except in the context of love because sin does not exist except in the non-response to love. Penance is a discovery of what love is and what it is to love. A sister once commented: "In our community there are so many, almost everyone, who are ready to forgive. There is so much forgiveness but there is no one who can confess her need for forgiveness." It is so easy to forgive. Did anyone ever confront you with the words: "I forgive you"? Have you ever been forgiven by another person, a second or third or fourth or twentieth time. The words, "I forgive," do not make any difference. You can come to me and tell me you are sorry and I can say I am sorry, too--about the book you lost or about the car that got dented, but that does not change. You can tell me you are sorry about the way you got angry and what you called me, and I can say, "I forgive you," but what happens when we say that word? Can we forgive? When we say, "I forgive," we are not talking about the action of God, we are not talking about the grace of Christ or the word of the Church; we are saying: "I am trying not to respond to you as you deserve." That is what we ordinarily mean, and implicitly, there is a warning, "Do not let it happen again," because when it does happen again, we remind them: "How many times?" Forgiveness? There are not many of us who are capable of forgiveness. There is no one of us who is capable of forgiveness in the sense that God forgives and Christ forgives, because when Christ forgives, He is not saying He is not going to respond to us as we de-serve but He reaches into us, to the very roots of that which makes us the irascible persons we are. He does something if we let Him, if we are ready to be healed, to be touched, and to be cured. No person can forgive sin. We can empathize with people, we can say we are sorry that they are the miserable creatures they are, but we cannot change them unless we have the capacity to love them with the love of Christ. Otherwise they are untouched by our forgiveness and this is why there is a need and a hunger to be freed from our incapacity to love and not simply to be excused and accepted and remain unchanged. In the great mystery of Christ's death and resurrection it is the sacrament of penance that enables us in some way to get in touch with Him because without getting in touch with Him we cannot do His work. There is a strange misunderstanding in those who feel that the Eucharist is enough, that they can ignore our Lord's call to repent and forget our Lord's suffering and death. It is as if in some way I can forgive myself, can just ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 681 4. 4. E. ]. Farreli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 682 tell Him I am sorry or we can tell one another: "I forgive you, forget about it." In our non-response to love, our inability to love we experience the fact that we cannot heal, that we do not cnre. As someone said, it is not so much that the community or Church' has hurt them, but it has not healed them and that is why they can no longer suffer in this way. It is a partial truth, perhaps, but it is a truth. So often w~ cannot put this need for healing into words but we do expect, we do expect something. Some of our older brethren in Christ are not, I think, too far off in their intuition about the relationship between penance and Eucharist, pen-ance and community; and I think I would say that there is a correlation between the diminishment irl the cele-bration and experience of penance and the diminish-merit in community. The sacrament, the life of penance which is but the life of Christ lived out continually, is the most personal of all the sacraments, the most intense and, therefore, the most difficult. Perhaps it is the last sacrament we are ready for because it demands so much of us; it demands such maturity, it demands such a capacity to suffer, the most terrible kind of suffering, to really learn who we are, and we will do anything to escape that kind of suffering, that kind of anguish. Who of us is really ready to face the living God? There is so much we do in our life to prevent this happening. We talk a good faith, we even have many theologies, b~t who of us really wants to know himself as the Lord knows him? We do not have many temptations. It is the saints who are the primary witnesses to faith, not the theologians who are the primary witnesses--the saints, unlettered, undoctoral but primary witnesses to love. We do not get tempted too often to express our sorrow in the dramatic gesture perhaps of a Mary Magdalen. We do not to6 often weep over our sins, prostrate our-selves before the Eucharist or the Christian community and confess what we are. We have forgotten and per-haps at times we do not even have the capacity any longer because it has been so underexercised. Yet the life of Christ and the reality of man speak out, and we find an extraordinary emergence today from beyond those who are called to give public witness to the mystery of Christ. We find the phenomena of penance and confession and public confession in those "outside." We see it in Alcoholics Anonymous, we see it in Syna-non groups, in sensitivity groups, encounter groups, where the first thing persofis do is to repent, to bare their souls on the guts level and expose who they are. It is an extraordinary experience to experience our poverty and our honesty and in so many ways our nothingness and it gives a kind kind of game can ever give us. It who are or who have been in a there are no games left any more real. We see this, and perhaps l-IS. of freedom which no is something like those mental hospital where and all they can be is it say~ something to The Lord does not accuse us, the Lord does not call to mind our sins: we are the only ones that remember them. The Lord simply asks us again and again: "Do you love me?" Today one is often questioned on the frequency of confession. Should religious go every week to confession?. I think it is very important to see the sacrament of penance in terms of the totality of the Christian life; it is not something that can have its significance only in isolation and only in terms of sin. There was a valid aspect, I think, to the intuition and practice of the Church in encouraging and calling her priests and re-ligious to confession regularly and I am sure it was not so much in terms of their need for absolution from sin but more in terms of confession of the praise of God, and for a deeper understanding of how priests and religious in a special way are the most highly visible embodiment of the Body of Christ. There was an extraordinary article in Time maga-zine in February on environment and I would certainly commend it to your spiritual reading. In this article some experts say that we have so interfered with the ecological system of the world that it is irreversible and human life cannot continue on this planet beyond 200 years. This was just a small portion of the article but it drove home" the reality that the smallest atom has a history, has an effect that goes so far beyond itself that it is almost incalculable what any act of ours can do. I think it speaks so strongly, about the mystery of human community and how we affect one another not only for a moment but have an ongoing effect; and that nothing is really lost. It speaks so strongly to the awareness we must carry within ourselves of the responsibility Christ took upon Himself for the whole world and for the sin and inability and absence of love in so many. It speaks to the fact that to follow Christ's likeness we, too, must be totally concerned with the conversion and transformation of people and where there is not love, to put love. When religious or priests go to confession, they go first of all to recognize that they are sinners and no one of us gets beyond that basic fact--that we are sinners even though saved. The remarkable thing in the testimony and history of the saints is that the more one grows in his experience of the love of Christ, the more ÷ ÷ ÷ Penance VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ E. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 684 he realizes how much this love is absent in himself and he is drawn to the sacrament of penance out of his life experience; not from some external "you ought to" or "you should," but because it becomes more and more a need. There is a hunger for it which cannot be satisfied by anything less except being plunged into this mystery of Christ. St. Catherine of Siena spoke so deeply of this mystery in words that sound strange and rather strong to us-- "Being washed in the blood of Christ." But at the same time, these are words that are deeply Scriptural--Isaian --the Suffering Servant--the mystery of the blood of Christ. We need to be. deeply penetrated with them. We need to be aware that when we go to confession, which is a profession of faith, a confession of love, and a deep experience of a need to be touched by Christ and to be transformed by Him, sgmething takes place even though there is no way of validating it in terms of a pragmatic principle. It does not make a difference. ~¥hy bother? We cannot measure it on the yday to day level just as life cannot be measured on that particular level. There are movements within ourselves that per-haps take a long time before they can make their mani-festation in our nervous system, on the tip of our fingers. When we go to confession we need to be aware that a whole community is involved, not just a par-ticular house but everyone who is in our lives. We can pick up the paper and read about the crime and the violence, especially to the young and the old, and the helpless, the war, and unemployment, and we can read it and so what? It does not seem to enter into the very life that we are living. We are called to be that Suffering Servant and to make up in ourselves what is lacking in others, to in some way experience what Paul experienced. When someone was tempted, he, himself, felt the fire o{ it; when someone was sick, he, himself, experienced it--that deep interpenetration of all these people involved in Christ. So, when one goes to the sacrament of penance, it is for one's own sins-- the incapacity, the inability to love, missing the mark so often, but it is also in terms of the sins of others. Christ's whole life was this life of penance. Religious living is and has to be a following in this life of penance, this ongoing change, this ongoing conversion. One of the problems of frequent confession is the confessor. I think we are all caught .in this together. Our theology is usually behind our experience, and there are many priests who have had great difficulty in finding confessors themselves. I do not think there is more than one in thirty priests who has a confessor, has a spiritual director; and there has been a great impoverishment because we have not recognized nor developed this charism. I do think there is a special apostolate that the Christian and especially the relig

Issue 28.2 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDIT~)R R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant edRor, as wel! as books for review, should be sent to ~EVIE~,V FOR RELIOIOUSj 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32t Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by facuhy members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, ~be editoria| ot~ices being located at 612 llumboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. 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Questions for answering should be seni to the address of the Questions and Answers editor, MARCH ~969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 2 ANDRE AUW, C.P. The Evangelical Counsels: Ways of Becoming Free- Many years ago a young man walked into a Jewish synagogue and at the time for the readings, arose, took the scroll that was handed to Him, and read the follow-ing lines: The Spirit of the Lord is upon me Because the Lord has anointed me To bring good tidings to the afflicted, He has sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, Toproclaim liberty to the captives, Andthe opening of the prison to those who are bound. The young man, of course, was Jesus Christ, a man sent by God to be a liberator of men: And His mission was never more beautifully described than in those words of Isaiah which he read to the assembly: "He has sent'me to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to .those who are bound." The mission was one of liberation, of enabling men to become free. If it is true that our mission as religious is the same as Christ's mission, then it is important thatwe .examine the vows, and the counsels on which they are based, in the light of freedom. And so I have chosen to do this, tO discuss the vows as possible means of liberating us as persons, so that we can help others to become liberated. I would like to begin this consideration of the vows with a personal reflection that might serve as a frame-work for my approach. For the past five years I have been working with a great variety of groups: college students, married couples, priests, religious--men and women of all faiths or of no faith. And I have been surprised at the consistency of their impressions of re-ligious, Gradually I have been able to weave together a fabric + ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C.P., writes from the Center for Students of the Person; P.O. Box 2157; La Jolla, California 92037. VOLUME 28," 1969 .175 Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from their attitudes and responses. It is a fabric that is not pleasant to touch. I have the impression that their one dominant way of evaluating us is ~in terms of free-dom. For the most part they see us as terribly unfree. They see us as dedicated, well-intentioned men and women, who are, nevertheless, imprisoned by our way of life, trapped by our traditions, hemmed in, and, as the c.ollege students say, "hung up" by our systems and legal prescriptions. The most vocal expression of these feelings has come from the college student groups. And perhaps that is why my initial reaction to this consistent message was one of annoyance and irritation. I found myself rather defensive at what seemed to be an adolescent smugness on the part of these students, and at what appeared to be a. very unfair and unbalanced evaluation. Not all reli-gious are so rigid, unfree, trapped, and hemmed in. That was my initial reaction, But when I reflected a little more I discovered that I was reacting to things I did not want to believe could be true. And when I could be more honest with myself, I had to admit that this is the very image that many religious, including myself, have projected. My pondering also gave me some other valuable in-formation. Not only were these people telling me things about myself that I found hard to hear. They were also trying to tell me things about themselves which they found hard to bear. They were speaking of their fears. Seeing me unfree they were reminded of their own fear of never becoming free enough to be a mature loving person. They thought of their fear of being swallowed up in an impersonal, computerized society, of their fear of .being trapped by outdated traditions and hemmed in by unreasonable laws. All of their fears and frustrations which have been spilling out in bloody streaks from Watts to Washington, D.C., from the lawns of Berkeley to the halls of Columbia, were freshly underlined. It seems that they had turned toward, me, a religious, in hope, but finding me unfree, had turned away from me in sadness. They felt they must search elsewhere to find someone free enough to be able to show them the way to freedom. ¯ And so it seems to me to be a vital need to consider the vows in the light of freedom, to measure them by the manner in which they measure up as liberating forces in our lives. Nietzsche once said: "If they¯want me to believe in their God. they are going to have to sing better hymns for me; they are going to have to show me that they are men who have been liberated." Mod-ern man is saying the same thing to us today. He knows the message of Christ is essentially ]iberative, and be wants to see how well that message has liberated the religious who call themselves witnesses, before he will. consider buying it. In order to understand the vows as ways of becoming free we should understand what we mean by .freedom. It is not the ability to do whatever pleases me. That is narcissism. St. Paul has described it beautifully in the following instruction to the Galatians: "You should be free to serve one another in love" (Gal 5:14). And Doctor Carl Rogers spells that out a little more sharply when he talks about "a freedom which. [man] courageously uses to live his potentialities., which assists [him] in becoming human, in relating to others, in being a per-son." This is a freedom which makes us responsible lovers, concerned about responding sensitiveIy to others and not inhibited by the shadows of our own fears. How can the vows be ways of enabling us as religious to possess this kind of freedom? Let us examine them separately. First, poverty. What is there about this way of being a.nd living which can be liberating for us? In view of the definition of freedom as the ability to serve my brother in love, I would see poverty as a statement of value. For me, the true spirit of poverty is a way of being which can help me to tell my brother that I consider him more important than the material possessions I can acquire. And by not being so dependent upon .having things I am truly freer to share myself with others. Not needing to satisfy so many of my own desires, I can be more open and responsive to the needs of others. This is certainly the accent that we find in Scripture. Having things or not having things is of secondary importance in New Testament reflection on poverty. The emphasis is not on having, but on being: being able to "be" for others. The tragedy of the rich man Dives in the Lazarus story is not that he was wealthy, but that his wealth had made him insensitive and in-capable of meeting the needs of his suffering brother. There is, I feel, a parallel today in the attitude of people towards the poverty of religious. I do not be-lieve that intelligent people are harshly critical of us be-cause we possess large buildings and bank accounts. But they are severely critical when our buildings or our money keep us aloof and uninvolved in serious social issues. They can tolerate our need for some kind of. status but they cannot forgive us when we are incapable of service. As religious we need help in order to appreciate pov-erty as a way of freeing us from the paralyzing effect of accumulated material possessions. Freeing us from the demands of our own egos, so that we can walk--or even + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 177 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS run--to meet the needs of others. And so that we can do this without wanting a lot of "extras." When we do not have this spirit, something rather ugly happens to us even though we do not consciously promote it. We become very protective of our own in-terests. Speaking in another context, Charles Davis re-ferred to this self-service: The official church is racked with fear, insecurity and anxiety, with a consequent intolerance and lack of love. And what frustrates any effort at remedy is the perpetual dominance of the system over the person., the system always comes first. I would like to hope that I could become a different kind of religious, one who is seen as valuing the human person above any thing or system. I would like to be seen by those whom I serve as poor in material posses-sions, but rich in caring, unselfish as I serve them, and sometimes even a bit joyous in the sharing of myself: what I am and what I have as a Christ-person. This is the kind of witness that modern man needs and wants. He is terribly frustrated and unhappy with his accumulated wealth. He finds the things he possesses getting in the way of his relationships with the people he loves. And he does not know how to free himself. He needs people who can show him a new set of values and a new way of being with people. And finally, in regard to poverty, it is worthwhile re-calling that when Christ, after the miracle of Naim, was asked: "Are you the Messiah?" He responded not by pointing to the miracle of new life given to a dead man. Instead, He said: "Go and tell John what you see., the poor have the gospel preached to them." That was, and is still, the sign par excellence of the messianic liberator. It is the sign that shows people what Christ and His message are all about. Next let us examine obedience as a way of becoming free. I especially like Father Van Kaam's concept of obedience. It is taken from the root meaning of the word, "obaudire," which means "to hear." For me, obedience can be a wonderfully freeing thing when it is understood as a sensitive listening to the heartbeat of the Christian community. I think I would also add, a responsive and responsible listening. This means that those in authority and those under them have a need to listen to one an-other, to listen together to those they are committed to serve. It is responsive, and this implies a kind of generous spontaneity which is far removed from docile acceptance of an order. And it is responsible, which implies the recognition of an obligation that stems from a love com-mitment. For many the word obedience conjures up fantasies of force and control and restriction. How then can obedience be seen as a liberating force? I believe that one factor which can truly make obedience liberating is the factor of trust. The social and behavioral scientists have done con-siderable work in the area of authority relationships and they have discovered some interesting facts. They have found that when a climate of trust exists in a group, the people who are in positions of authority, are more re-laxed and do not feel a need to maintain tight kontrol and supervision. They are inclined to be open to sug-gestions for change. Those who are working for them tend to produce better and to assume responsibility for the welfare of the group as well as for the work they must do individually. One of the elements which Doctor Jack Gibb isolated in groups where authority relationships were poor was the attitude on the part of those in positions of leadership. These leaders held two assumptions regarding those who worked for them: that they were not to be trusted, and that they were irresponsible. Unfortunately, in many cases, these assumptions became a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy which created the very conditions that man-agement sought to avoid. There may well be similar assumptions on the part of religious superiors. We have had a long heritage of pro-tectiveness, and it is hard to effectively break away frown these patterns. Undoubtedly the atmosphere of trust is much better now than it was ten years ago, but there most likely is still a great deal of work to be done in religious communities in this area. Our obedience can be lib-erating for us only when, together, we can begin to as-sume that we can be trusted and that we can be re-sponsible for ourselves. Paradoxical as it may sound, a person must be truly independent before he can surrender himself to another. Thus I, as a religious, must experience your trust and my own responsibility before I can surrender my needs and desires in such a way that together we can listen sensi-tively to the needs of the community we serve. It is then, and only then, that I can find it possible to accept a diffi-cult assignment or perform unpleasant tasks as a respon-sive and responsible lover. Doctor Carl Rogers has said that in order to be a really effective teacher a person must have a profound trust in the human organism and its potentialities. Otherwise he will cram the student full of all the information he thinks is good for him rather than help the student to learn what is important for him. Having worked with Doctor Rogers I can state that this is not mere theory for him; it is the way he functions with people. He pre- + + + The Counsels VOLUME 28, 1969 179 ÷ ÷ ÷ Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS' fers to be gullible, to take people at face value, .and to believe the things they say to him. And oddly enough, people are so warmed by this kind of unconditional ac-ceptance that they soon stop telling lies and cease trying to impress. They find they no longer have to hide their refil feelings, and it is a very wonderful experience for them. By experiencing the trust of a loving person they were.able to begin to surrender a bit of themselves. I believe it is this kind of trust which is needed to transform our understanding of obedience. Obedience should not make us docile conformists, but responsible lovers. Today more than ever before we need a concept of obedience which will enable, us to assume responsi-bility for our actions and our lives. We need greater power to freely surrender our self-centered desires and needs. The example of Peter in the New Testament seems to be a striking illustration of the kind of obedience I am talking about. Peter began his authority relationship with Christ feeling very insecure. He made a great many mistakes, yet each time he did so, Christ confirmed him as a person by making him feel that He still trusted him. The peak experience for Peter came during the meet-ing with Christ outside the palace of the high priest. Peter, ashamed at his betrayal, finally found the courage to look at Christ, and that loving glance of the Master made Peter aware that Christ still believed in him, still trusted him. It was only after this that Peter felt secure enough to accept the responsible task of shepherding the flock for Christ. It was Christ's trust of Peter that made' possible the entrusting of the flock to him. And it was this same trust that transformed Peter into a re-sponsive and responsible lover. This is a way of being that modern man wants to dis-cover very badly. He finds it so hard to reach beyond the limits of his own ego. He is searching for someone who can show him an obedience which is an exercise of responsibility freely chosen, and yet something binding and demanding because that is the way of love. Modern man needs to experience this kind of trust-filled loving so that he too can become free to love. He wants to be able to say in the words of The Little Prince: "I am re-sponsible for my rose." That would be for him the state-ment of a truly obedient man, rejoicing in an obedience which is richly liberating. Finally we come to the vow of celibate love. I have chosen to discuss it under this title rather than that of chastity because I believe this best expresses, the real meaning o.f the vow. There has been so much written on celibacy in the past year that I iliad it difficult say something which will ,1 not be excessively redundant. Perhaps the best approach will be to share some of my reactions to recent articles that I have read. Frankly, I am not impressed byo being told that I am an eschatological sign because I am a celibate. I really do not think that the men and women who come in contact with me are go.ing to experience a love that. is redeeming simply by being aware that I can point to a way they will love one another in heaven. They need to know how to love here and now. I am not denying the theology of eschatological witness; I am saying that it is not a good enough reason to justify my be!ng a celibate. But perhaps the thing that disturbs me most about recent discussions on celibacy is the somewhat naive as-sumption that the celibate way of life "ex se" or. auto-matically will produce good results; that it will make us better lovers. Anyone who has worked closely with re-ligious in different communities 'knows that this simply is not an assumption based on fact. The fact is that we find it hard to be generous and warm lovers, in com-munity as well as out of community. And for me that is the very heart of the matter: being able to love others humanly, warmly. One of the most beautiful compliments that I.have re-ceived is a statement that has poignantly sad overtones: "You know you don't seem like a priest; you're so hu-man." What kind of celibacy is it that 'contributes to such an image? On the other hand I am equally disturbedby propo-nents of some undefined "third way," who speak so un-realistically of married love. Marriage can be just as de-humanizing as celibacy, as any counselor knows. Sexual expression :without sexual integration can be just as dev-astating for married persons as the lack of sexual expres, sion without-sexual integration can be for celibates. Neither marriage nor celibacy guarantees any(hing in the way of mature loving. However, both can be Ways of becoming free in order to grow as lovers. Both demand sexual integration as a prerequisite for personal fulfill-ment. And botl~ take a great deal of work and pain and perseverance and patience.' What then is there about the celibate .way of loving which can be for a religiousa liberating experience? First of all, I believe that celibacy, lovingly and. freely embraced, enabIes me to say to those I am committed to serve that I can love them in a way which is rich and deep and truly human, but in a way which is not demanding. And this is a magnificently freeingkind of awareness. It means that when I have accepted my sexuality and be-gun to integrate if, I can add another dimension to my VOLUME ~'St 2.969 "~, ; ISt 4, 4, Andre Auw, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18~ relationships. I can show people what it means to love someone just ~for himself. Not for his usefulness or phys-ical attractiveness. Not for his fine mind or remarkable talents, but just for himself. I can show him a way of loving and living which inte-grates se~xuality in a way that is different from married people. "It is a way which recognizes the splendor of sexuality, but which at the same time chooses to refrain from sexual .expression. I can show this person how to love both men and women warmly and deeply, with tenderness and even affection, without the overriding fear of automatic sexual involvement. And this, I believe, is precisely the kind of loving that modern man is hungry for. He is very confused by his sexuality, and it has become for him the alpha and omega of his existence. Deep within him he senses that ful-fillment iiavolves more than sex, but he finds it hard to translate this vague inner feeling into the language of everyday living because he does not find enough lovers who think much differently from the way he does. Modern man can learn a great deal from a religious who appreciates his sexuality enough to give it just enough importance in his life, but no more than that. How much it can mean for the confused modern to experi-ence a love which accepts him not for anything he has, but only for what he is. This alone is enough to be redemptive for many men and women. It seems as if there is in the heart of man a yearning for the model lover who is strong enough in serf-mastery to be free to be a kind of savior for others. In the folklore of most nations and tribes there are redemptive figures who, most often, were celibates during the time of their inessianic mission. We have only to recall the mythical warriors of the Far East and of-Indian culture, the many versioned prince myths of the early Middle Ages, the knights of King Arthur, and even in our own coun-try, the man of the West, the hero of the desert and prairie. Let us think of this last figure [or a moment. In story and song he has been pictured as a man of great physi-cal and moral strength. But primarily he is a man on a redemptive mission, living only for others. He rides into a town, bringing his honesty and integrity. He is manly; but also gentle with women. He is compassion-ate toward the poor and helpless. He stamps out evil and plants the seeds of goodness and truth. He brings sal~cation to a village. And when his redemptive mission is accomplished, this celibate lover accepts the love that people can give him in return for his, but he never de-mands it. Then, 'his work finished, he rides of[ alone to anbther ~¢illage and other people who need his kind of loving in order to be redeemed, to be liberated. In a similar way the modern religious celibate ac-complishes his redemptive mission. What he really gives to others is a portion of his own gift of freedom. He too will have to "ride" alone, but only in the sense of not having a single exclusive love relationship. For as he grows in his own mature sense of .freedom he ,will 'be enriched by many deep and beautiful love relationships. And this too becomes a gift to be shared with others, the gift of knowing how to put love and sexuality into a splendid and yet practical perspective. The task of integrating these two elements is always a difficult one. But one insight is very important. A sister, during a weekend workshop with .married couples, ex-pressed it well. She said: "You know, before this Week-end I had planned to leave my religious community. But now, I'm not so sure. You see, I thought my problems were the problems of a celibate religious, and I dis-covered that they are the problems of a woman. I found married women with the same basic problems, and they are making better adjustments to. them than I have been doing." This is so very true. Most of our problems are ,not the result of our celibacy but of our humanness. Neither marriage nor sexual intercourse will resolve our ten-sions. These will be resolved when we learn how to be-come truly human and loving. Then it will be possible for the celibate way of life to be rewarding for us and redeeming for others. It is then that we can demonstrate to others a love that is most beautiful because it is least demanding. Celibacy will not automatically make us great lovers, but a lover who understands and values his celibacy can be a model lover for others, a lover who is free enough to be able to free others. Certainly it is this kind of loving that is needed so desperately today by modern man who no longer feels lovable or loved. It may well be that only when he .ex. periences such undemanding love will he be ~onvinced of the genuine value of Christ's love. It may be that he will be able to believe in the celibate lover of Calvary only after he has come to believe in other celibates who can surrender, as He did, one of the most priceless gifts that God has given them. Perhaps .then, when he sees us free enough to surrender our sexuality for his sake, he may come to believe that he really is worth sav-ing and that God does care about him after all. It is a knowledge that many men still seek when they come ih contact with celibate lovers. These, then, are some of my reflections on the vows as ways of becoming free. I would like to understand the vows as ways of enabling us to be free enough to make it possible for others to believe in themselves. I would.like ÷ ÷ ÷ The Counsels,~ . VOLUME' 28~' 1969" '° :. ,183 + to think that we can be free from the obsessive need to accumulate things, free to surrender ourselves to others, free to love deeply and warmly. And that is why I feel that we must seek new insights concerning the vows. A young high school student, talking, about religious life and the vows, was asked what kind of religious com-munity he would have if he were to start one tomorrow, The young man said: "Well; I don't think I would make them take any vows." But then he paused and reflected on that, and he added a sentence that sums up the whole meaning of the vows and the religious life. He said: "Unless it would be possible to take a vow., to love." If that were truly the spirit behind our vows, they would be, for us, ways of becoming free. Finally, it is well to remember that the way of the vows is the way of Christ Himself. It is the way of a man with a mission to set men free. And the men of Christ's time were not so very different from the men of our day: angry, restless, rebellious, indifferent, frightened, and insecure, yet searching for a Christ-person who would be their liberator. Christ walked into their midst, heard their cry, and showed them a way of life that was for them a way of freedom. He showed them how to be free~ from the de-humanizing demands of the law and tradition, free from the imprisoning fear of what people might say, free from the overconcern about food and power and sex. Christ showed them a way of poverty and obedience and celibate love. Today we, as .religious, stand in the place of Christ to continue His redemptive mission, to be His witnesses. If we can find better ways to be what we say we are, then we too can arise in the assembly and announce to the world that we also have been sent to "bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound." And hopefully, people will hear us not because of what we say, but because of what we are: witnesses. Perhaps the following lines spell that out for us in clearer language: A witness is A man who stands out Because he is not afraid to stand up A man who outreaches others Because he reaches out to other.s Andre Auw, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 184 A man who lifts others up Because he bends down to their weakness A man whose heart has grown great Because he has learned to become small A witness is all this and more He is a man who walks across the wastelands Of human lives And uncovers hidden springs A man who opens windows everywhere To the sunlight and springtime fragrance Of the risen Christ And passing through the doors of seILfilled hearts He lights and leaves behind An everlasting flame Ultimately a witness is a man who does all these things Because He is not afraid To love. The CoUnsels VOLUME 28, 1969 I85 CARL J. PETER Culture and the Vocation Crisis Carl J. Peter teaches theology and lives at Curley Hall, Box 49; Cath-olic University of America in Wash-ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS A change has occurred in the way young men and women view the prospect of becoming a priest, lay brother, or nun. At the very least they manifest less en-thusiasm or inclination along these lines. One may ask when this began or indeed inquire whether it has not just begun. Few, I think, will challenge the proposition itself. This change of attitude is very definitely evidenced by those who have matriculated in the Catholic school sys-tem. One encounters it in the Mary and Johnny of whom but a few years back while they were still on the primary level in parochial schools, we asked why they could not read. All of this is true and will be conceded by those who regard the situation as healthy no less than by those who regard it as disastrous. Religious Convictions and the Young The change in question has causes that are closely connected with religious conviction or its lack. There is an obvious hesitancy on the part of youth, an unwilling-ness or an unreadiness to embrace as a state of life the ministry of the gospel in its traditional form. But it is a great oversimplification, I feel, to assign as a total ex-planation a weakening or loss of faith. In some cases, + precisely the opposite is true. + At least many of the young people involved are any- + thing other than lacking in generosity. Interest in im-proving the lot of tbeir fellow man characterizes their mental and emotional outlook. Here is where the diffi-culty lies. In ever increasing numbers they fail to see this humanitarian interest connected with the life of the priesthood, sisterhood, and brotherhood. One may contend that this is because of the present conditions in which these callings are lived and exercised, because, for example, so much of a priest's time and 18fi energy is spent in activities that have no apparent con- nection with the betterment of mankind or at least one that is very minimal. Devoting each Monday to counting the collection; running off the Sunday bulletin on the rectory or parish duplicator; keeping the books for the school hot lunch program--the instances could be multi-plied. Now it is surely a mistake to associate a priest's work exclusively with such activities. But to ask young people to ignore this aspect is expecting a bit too much. A large part of the problem with regard to vocations is that prospective candidates see too much activity on the part of the cleric or religious" too little connected with making mankind's future better than its past. Liturgy and a Life Choice But this is not all. Even in cultic functions associated with the administration of the sacraments, there is real difficulty. Whether humanity is genuinely better off be-cause of all this divine worship is a question posed over and over again. Here it is not a matter of poorly or sel-dom exercised functions of the priest but rather the im-portance pure and simple of such fimctions in the world at all. Many adults recognize this and conclude that the vocation crisis connected with such questioning is really a crisis of faith. My contention, however, is that at least some of these difficulties and doubts in the religious realm are caused by a cultural change that affects the entire world of man in all its facets. The crisis of vocations is connected often enough with a corresponding crisis of faith. This is not so much because many have simply ceased to believe but rather because the atmosphere in which they have grown up and live demands a choice between conflict-ing values, religious ones included. As a result, young people find it both harder to reject the latter outright and yet more difficult as well to embrace them fully. The reason is that our day is one of cultural transformation with all that this involves. If this is anything other than self-evident, it is nevertheless important. The Meaning of Cultural Change To make the statement that culture has a great deal to do with the unrest experienced by youth and indeed believers in general is hardly a novelty today. It is intro-duced into the present context with the hope that it will be more than a mere repetition. To achieve this will re-quire making an effort to clarify what is meant by cul-tural change. Only then will others be able to judge whether this is in fact what is taking place with profound religious consequences. Such explanation is precisely what is lacking in a number of other attempts to trace the believer's troubles to this same source. Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 18'/ Carl .I. Peter REVIE%' FOR RELIGIOUS Examples may be of help. Leslie Dewart has con-nected the present plight Of Christianity with a retention of Hellenism or Hellenistic culture.x There is nothing to be gained from adding one more name to the list of critics of The Future of Belief.2 It is, however, a far from easy task to determine what he means by Hellenism. And yet this is quite important for his contention. Something very similar is true of Bishop John Robin-son. 8 He contends that the present difficulties of Chris-tianity are in great part connected with the fact that fundamental truths are being rejected wholesale because they are presented in a "supranaturalistic" mode of thought: The latter is surely a cultural phenomenon, but one that is extremely vague. It seems to involve a world picture with God outside the physical and psychic uni-verse but intervening now and again. To retain such a world picture, he writes, is incompatible with being a truly modern man. Meaningful truths fall under the weight of their utterly unacceptable trappings that bear witness to a dead culture. But here precisely is his problem. God, for Robinson, is not intended to be the product of a culture. Yet if one cannot tell what you mean by the latter, you do run the risk of having others hard pressed to determine whether you really stand for a God who endures despite a cultural change. At this point some are probably wondering whether it is not precisely a crisis o[ faith that must be dealt with. Perhaps it is. But to no small degree it is first of all a cultural crisis leaving its marks on all of us. Bishop Robinson may not have been successful in explaining what he means by a change of culture. He has never-theless described well the period in which we are living. It is the age of the overlap, the period in which some-thing very new is still in the process of emerging. Ours is a period of tension or dialectic. Hopefully a beneficial synthesis will be the outcome. One thing is sure; neither of the two extremes in the present picture culturally is likely to remain as is. Both are going to be modified and remarkably so. But it is the present state that must be analyzed, again with the observation that understanding what is happening is a first step toward dealing reason-ably and effectively with the situation. Good practice depends on an accurate assessment of what is involved. Dewart and Robinson call attention to the pangs in-volved in the change through which we are living. Both are agreed on this. An old culture is in the process 1 Leslie Dewart, The Future of Belie[ (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966). '-' See the remarks of Jaroslav Pelikan and Bernard J. F. Lonergan in Theological Studies, v. 28 (1967), pp. 352-6 and 336-51 respec-tively. s John A. T. Robinson, Honest to God (London: SCM, 1963). of dying. It does not offer a form that religious belief will find viable in the future.4 In my opinion they are correct; the. cultural state we are now in cannot last. Indeed it takes no prophet to see that it will not. An-other thing is equally sure. Things will not revert to the way they were before all this began, whenever that was. The present situation makes that abundantly clear. Culture and Values Our age is.witnessing a remarkable conflict of values, and they are not directly religious in nature. At least they can be and are embraced by those who avowedly profess or practice no religion at all as well as by various types of believers in a Supreme Being. Now if this is true, it is also a prerequisite for understanding the cultural crisis of the present. For what 3[ mean by culture involves at0 the very least values and indeed a'more or less connected set of values. My contention is that we are living in a period of.history where there is a particularly fierce struggle between two opposing sets of purely human values. If some sort of synthesis is the most likely and desirable outcome, still, living in the overlap can be confusing. Two sets of values compete; each has something ~o be said for it, something to commend it. For many this is stimulating, but for no small number, ever increasing knowledge, acquaintance, and experience preclude, decisions on a clear course of action. In fact at times the result is paralysis or choices no sooner made than regretted, commitments given and then retracted. But if a convict of values can lead to these practical consequences, what sort of values are in question? The Good and Its Modes Getting things done or a sense of practical "know-how" has from the earliest days been a characteristic of our country. Indeed, it was very quickly identified ~with Yankees and their ingenuity. To put this another way, achievemerit and performance are values long esteemed by our society. And yet as ea'rly as the War between the States they were sought after in two radically opposed ¯ ways. Preservation of a heritage was the performance one section of the nation desired; improvement, refine. ment, elimination of defects and evils inspired the other. Concretely the value of performance, know-how, or achievement was realized in two conflicting ways. Given the question of freedom and human dign.ity, it is dear ~For a case along the same line but developed with heavy dependence on American Pragmatism as a philosophical basis, see Eugene Fontinell, "Religious Trtith in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 16 (1967), pp. 283-315. 4- 4- 4- ¥ocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ,196~ Carl ~ J.~ Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 190 that a moral issue was at stake. But there were other as-pects as well; for instance, strict or loose construction of the Constitution. Both forms of interpretation were religiously' neutral if not secular. Both likewise had ref-erence to the value of performance. But the way the lat-ter was realized in North and South led to tension, strife, and conflict. The situation afterwards was never the same again. There is something in this history that repeats itself. Clinging to tradition and the progress achieved in the past claims the allegiance of certain minds and hearts. It is likely true that this will always be the case. Still others are no less moved by the desire to strike out and move ahead in man's endless effort to better his~lot on this planet. Education offers another example. The value of a teacher's performance is judged in terms of pedagogical goals. Some maintain the educator aims at handing on truth, with the supposition that humanity has already achieved it in a way that can be improved but never fundamentally surpassed. By instinct and. reasoned con-viction others look for the teacher or professor to en-gage together with the student in a quest for truth. The assumption is that there is always more worth looking for and in comparison with which the knowledge at-tained is partial and incomplete. Now neither of these attitudes toward pedagogical goals is directly religious. Neither is exclusively demanded by Catholic faith. But the adoption of either as a value has religious implica-tions. An illustration may be of assistance. A question arises that is new and demands some sort of response or answer. Before doing anything else, the man or woman influenced by the value of preserving truth will attempt to solve the present case by recourse to precedents. Only too often this involves making the present in its unique-ness conform, whether it really does or not, with norms that were established earlier but without the slightest intention of binding all future generations. The value of preserving truth and past achievements translates itself religiously into that of fidelity. If the past has no claim to direct our own religious history, then there was no uniqueness in the event we call the Incarnation. Then God has not involved Himself irrevocably and finally in the history of man long before 'our day. When one re-gards0 education as a process of passing on certain truths, he is predisposed to be concerned religiously with the fidelity of God and man. A cultural value, namely pi:eserving the accomplishments of the past, can and does have profound religious consequences in thought and action. But education can also be conceived of as performance involving an unending quest [or truth. In this case, when one makes the transposition to a religious level, the goal is a search for the God who even after revelation in Jesus is still a mystery and to know whom is really to be yet groping even when one gropes with the aid of infallible direction. St. Paul offers a good example of this. In his Epistle to the Romans he spends three chapters (9-11) studying the will of God as concretely realized in the plan of salvation for Gentile and Jew. Interpreting the hist6ry of his own day as God's saving providence, he obviously presupposes that man can .know the divine will. And yet he concludes with a hymn proclaiming "that no one realiy knows the mind of the Lord. All subsequent Christian theology has been an at-tempt to grapple with the great mystery that God remains even after He reveals Himself to man. His ways are mysterious and yet sure, free and yet faithful. To em-phasize one over the Other leads to a lopsided theology. But why would one be inclined to do this? The reason is clear enough. There is a tendency to do so, one deriving from culture today especially. That culture is complex; it evokes diverse responses, some calculated to preserve the truth and goodness that have already been achieved and others aimed at improving both in the future. The result is cultural tension with theological consequences of the first order. When a question arises on a religious or doctrinal level, for those inclined to revere the past it is not a matter of being faithful pure and simple. There is a cultural fac-tor inclining them to their position. Others are more ready to strike out [or the new and unknown. Here it is the mystery of God and His dealings with man that will enthrall them. What has been said of Him in the past, even in infallible "utterances, is true enough but insuffi-cient. Their great law is: "Thou shalt not have strange Gods before me." They do not wish to worship idols rather than the true God; and it is no less idolatrous to worship one's image of God than it is to adore wood, or stone, or precious metals. Here again, however, the inclination is not purely religious; it is cultural. These are the men and women who in any event are more moved by a goal that is worthwhile and possible than by achievements that are already a fact but with clear defects. ,4pplication to Present Conditions It is in the realm of attitudes that one must look for evidence of culture or values held in esteem or disrepute. Our culture involves an ambivalence of attitudes with regard to the present in its relation to the future. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28° 1969 .!. ÷ Carl I. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 19~ Contemporary forms are generally considered inade-quate in the long run to meet humanity's needs of the near future. If one insists that this is not true in the religious sphere, youth is expected to assert that m6- rality and faith are somehow not part of the changing world. This is only too evidently false. It is also discourag-ing. If true, it would surely follow that from neither could man hope for much improvement. When the past is loved too much and present values, cherished too intensely, the inevitable result is that fewer and fewer young people will spend their lives ina performance directed to preserving it. This attitude has been wide-spread and is showing its effects. The cultural cry of more and more of the young is "On to the Future" by radical change of the present. Confronted with the evils man has injected into his world, they find an attractiveness in this value. That it conflicts with the former is obvious. That the result is confusion, tension, unease, unwillingness or inability to commit oneself fully to one or the other is not sur-prising. Neither value is directly religious. Each has religious implications and does sometimes presuppose a lessening or even loss of religious commitment. But to concentrate on this would be to try to cure a symptom. Our whole society knows it must change and change radically. And yet unless we learn from the past, from its successes as well as its failures, we shall grope with-out any guidelines or the slightest assurance that what we learn today will help tomorrow and not hinder, Man's leap forward came.from a spirit of adventure and a lack of willingness to be content with the status quo. This is true of man whether he professed a religion or not. Youth today knows it. They look for a willingness to take this risk in religion and its leaders. But they also realize that man's advance has been accompanied by a multiplication of evils in the form of wars, famine, and untold human suffering. It was paid for in the form of untold labor and often shortened life spans "of pioneers. Today many of them are asking whether progress at such a price and with such attendant evils is worth it after all. It is a question of values and attitudes. Not a few seem to choose neither content-ment with the past nor striving to improve the future, at least not by joining existing organizations to achieve this. In the sense of the two alternatives, they seem to be opting out as close to altogether as is possible. Among their eiders, those who cling to the past do so not wholly because of faith, and those who strive to ob-tain the improvement of the future surely are not so motivated solely because of basic religious conviction or its lack. It is in both cases a cultural response elicited by the world in which they live. To be cautious is a value; to be adventuresome no less so. Neither in itself is reli-gious. Those inclined to esteem the former expect it most of all in religion; those who prefer the latter look for it above all in the area of faith and faith-inspired life. There is a crisis all right, but one stemming fi:om a com-plex culture or set of opposing values, each of which has something to be said for it. How easy it would all be if it were otherwise. It would be a mistake to overlook this when considering the situation of young men and women choosing or living out a religious vocation. Maximum E~ciency versus Involvement There is another pair of values related to achievement. Is the latter the work of one or many? Some are loners and find it hard to be any other way. But today it is extremely difficult to stand alone in achievement. The individual source of inspiration, one overseer or director iqith the power to make decisions--this leads at times to unquestionably greater efficiency and permits the de-termination of responsible agents in various fields. For some this is still a most desirable good. Society needs the great man as leader; the Church, the truly independent bishop and pope. But for others worthwhile goals are achieved only in the close cooperation of many laboring in a basically similar frame of mind despite difficulties. This implies the initiative not only of the leader but of many cooperating and participating as fully as possible in the endeavor. Neither attitude is basically religious. This is again witnessed in the pedagogical order. Why do so many professors today have such trouble with classes when they employ the lecture system? The latter is surely not something religious or irreligious. Nor is it that professors lecture without the ability of their predecessors. And yet in ever increasing numbers, courses based solely on this method are being phased out be-cause they are not being heard or listened to. The teacher who simply lectures today has to be a lot better than one who did the same fifty years ago just to accomplish as much. The reason is simple. To such an approach there is opposition that is neither religious nor irreligious but rather cultural. It arises from the conviction that truth and other values are to be sought not solely or primarily through the energy of one man directing the receptivity of others but through the combined efforts of many. The planning of seminary curricula is taking note of this. So must the charting of course for a parish or diocese if they are to achieve their respective goals. To think that papal primacy, episcopal collegiality, or lay initiative will not be affected by this cultural factor is disastrous, especially in dealing with prospective vocations. If this ÷ ÷ ÷ Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, ].9~9 Cad ]. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]94 is obviously hard for some to accept, it is important nonetheless. Achievements of the Paso Some men and women tend to concentrate on the good that has already been attained and are pleased with past efforts as well as optimistic about the state of the union, whatever union may be involved. Others view past achievements with guarded reserve or more often criti-cism, positive or negative. These are human attitudes not particularly connected with religion more than with politics or economics. But they do affect the way one re-gards formulations of Christian faith. Have the conciliar determinations helped or are they, though true, in their own way very limited? As regards present institutions, few adamantly deny they have accomplished some, indeed tremendous good. But what of the defects? They are pres-ent as well. Revelation does not direct attention to either exclusively. The way one evaluates other things will have a great deal of influence here. But that is clearly in the realm of rational attitudes more or less con-sciously adopted; namely, culture and not religion di-rectly as such. Analysis or Comprehensive View Is it the big picture or the details that are most im-portant? There is no divine law answering this. In terms of values, is it generality and simplicity in viewing a phenomenon as a whole or rather attention to its com-plexity that matters? Emphasis on the latter assures that whatever is said or decided today may well have to be modified tomorrow. Decisions taken may have to be reconsidered or retracted. Contrariwise one may aim at certain values that at least as goals do not change but are ever more closely approximated. The affective con-sequences of both approaches are clear enough. Com-mitments in the one frame of reference can hardly be irrevocable; in the other they can surely be so. On a practical religious level, are all decisions subject to re-call at will, for example, to the existence of a God, an after-life, the imperative of working to make life better [or others? Or are they simply the best one can give here and now? It is clear that conflicting cultural values have in this instance created tension in human life, not least of all in its religious sphere. Certainty and Conjecture To continue, is certainty a value above others, or is statistical probability all man can ~chieve in most in-stances? But certainty is popularly connected with hope.-- one does not hope unless convinced there is a good chance o~ getting or doing or being what is hoped for. And yet probability is likewise connected with hope; one does not hope for what is already a sure thing, somethingpr~deter-mined and open in no way to chance. To what does one aspire, the certain or the probable?. The Marxist experiences this. Should he hope for the classless society or not? If he does not because he feels that it is certain to come about, lethargy.will likely result. But if its appearance is not inevitable, his efforts alter all may be futile, all of which need not but may lead to despair. As to the Christian, must he hope that the divine kingdom come? If its advent cannot be frus-trated, what need to hope; if otherwise,, why hope when alter all sheer chance may reign supreme?. Antithetical Ideals I have tried to indicate certain human values in two connected sets. They deal with the practical, .the order o~ doing and achievement. Preservation of the past through the work of the leader who sees and inspires others to grasp the whole picture wi.th optimism c6upled with caution and deliberate pace regarding change--this is one set. And yet there is another in competition: the improvement o~ the future through the.cooperation o[ many in thought, action, and suffering, with attention to the manifold of details accompanied with criticism of past failures and a sense of urgency for future reme-dies. These interconnected values art both vying for man's acceptance at the present time. He has opted for neither. Confronted by them both, he is very often at a loss; now this and now that seems better. They affect the very depth of his being and yet are religious only in the sense of having to do with the meaning of life, a mean-ing he has to choose freely. Still his relations with or-ganized religion cannot but be affected by this tension, unrest, and hesitancy. Because religion is obviously con-nected with these values though by no means identical with them, he is probably as interested as at any time in his history with religion as an academic discipline but as disinclined as never before to see any religious organi-zation as offering a permanent way of life for himself. This has affected the attitude o~ many toward religious vocations in particular. In my opinion it justifies the proposition that the so-called vocation crisis is only indirectly a crisis of faith and directly one of culture. Religious Ministry in the Overlap More is called for today than detached analysis in this area. This is especially true in the case of those who are convinced that an increase in the number of religious vocations is o~ great importance for the Church and the 4- .4- 4- Vocation Crisis VOLUME 28, 1969 195 rest of humanity. As a result it may not be out of place to offer a number of suggestions. They will deal with atti-tudes that can be fostered with the aim of encouraging priestly and religious vocations during the period of the cultural overlap. First of all, in both of the competing sets of values, practical certainty is present and operative. The certainty of conviction makes men cling to the past; it drives others to strive for the future. This is certainty at least strong enough to be the guiding rationale and emo-tional factor for living a whole li~e. Too much certainty with regard to the past was an error. A great price has been paid for it. Today, youth is actually afraid of being certain and yet often paralyzed because uncertain. The man who strives for change is doing so only because of a practical conviction that striving is important, worth-while, possible, and not futile. In this sense, certainty is no more missing in him than in' his counterpart. If this impression can be conveyed to youth, the certainty of basic truths of faith will be less repellent. Secondly, another value found in both sets is persever-ance. It is because of a deep-rooted conviction that does not change that the men of science change hypotheses. A religious conviction once thought over and adopted need not shut a man off Lrom the way other men adopt in living. It should not make him closed. Indeed he can be open precisely because he has made a fundamental decision. No one is more closed than he who has made no decision at all regarding the meaning of life. Fre-quently such a man's desire to be open precludes his doing anything of lasting significance. To be con-temporary is not to be a Hamlet. To be ever ready to learn more regarding life's meaning is not to be ready to change one's mind because of simple discouragement or the realization that difficulties will in all likelihood never be completely removed. The applicability of this lesson to the realm of priestly and religious vocations is obvious. It will not, however, be grasped unless one re-calls that these are matters not merely of faith and revela-tion but also of culture. Carl 1. Peter REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i JOSEPH E. MULLIGAN, s.J. The Religious Dimension of Human Love The current experimentation with various styles of religiou~ dress is certainly a welcome development in the post-conciliar Church. It is becoming clear to Cath-olics and non-Catholics alike that today's sister is very much a woman of the twentieth century, a woman con-secrated to God and united with Christ and at the very same time intensely concerned about the joys and problems, successes and failures of the present world. She is sensitive to the needs of modern men and women, open to new trends in human thought'(such as personal-ism and Christian existentialism)~ efficient in her use of modern means of serving humanity, and orientated to the near and distant future in her apostoli.c thinking. Au courant styles of religious dress do not insure that all this will be true of every sister who dons the new garb, but at the very least it can be said that the new fashions do not militate against the entirely proper "new image" now being created by today's sisters both young and old. Updated religious habits may even foster an interior aggiornamento where it is lacking or lagging; and where the Spirit has already begun to "renew the face of the earth" so that the love enkindled by Him can shine forth for all to see, the sister will welcome the external change as a true sign of the interior renewal which is under way. While the new fashions serve this purpose of bringing today's sister visibly into the twentieth century, they also serve to bring out the distinctly feminine quality of the Christian charity which fills her heart and inspires her life of service. This important point is receiving its due attention by psychologists, counselors, and theologians; here we need only mention the fact that the changes in the dress o[ religious women are closely associated with the emergence, in their own consciousness and in that of all the world, of their God-given and God-beloved ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Mulligan, &J., is a member of Bellarmine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 6O542. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ Mulligan, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 femininity. How important it is that the feminine, ma-ternal dimension of the love of God, whom we always address as Father and whom we almost always think of in masculine terms, be incarnated and effectively com-municated to the human family. In this connection we readily recognize (it is not a question of "admitting," as if grudgingly) the truth of a point suggested by a famous psychologist: that in Christian piety a tender devotion to Mary fulfills a profound need of the human heart and soul, namely, to relate to a heavenly Mother. It is true, of course, that God the Father and Jesus Christ the Son manifest many of the qualities ordinarily associated with human mother-hood: tenderness, mercy, compassion, and above all, love which is given profusely without demanding a com-mensurate response. But it is Mary who, in the religious consciousness of the faithful, is the Mother par excellence, showering upon her children her maternal love and re-ceiving from them, often though not always, their love and trust in return. The religious woman has a position in the divine economy of salvation analogous to that of Mary. In the eminently feminine charity shown by the religious teacher, nurse, home missionary, and others, the human family can see and feel the maternal qualities of the boundless love of God for them. The sister can bring this love directly into the classroom, hospital, or home--and in this the sister can be more effective than Mary in com-municating the love of God to men. For Mary is present to her children only in times of prayer, and the experi-ence of her love requires faith; the sister can be present to the human family in all situations of life and in very concrete ways which are perfectly visible to "natural" eyes. Adaptations in dress, then, are worthwhile and valu-able in at least these two important respects: in placing sisters visibly in the midst of the twentieth century and in accentuating the distinctly feminine characteristics of their love and service to mankind. In most instances the adaptation of which we are speaking has taken the form of a reduction or lightening of the habit to the extent that some sisters have only a 'veil of some sort (or even less) as the external symbol of 'their consecration to God and their special union with Christ. This trend is entirely praiseworthy, as we have stated above. How-ever, the question soon arises about the necessity of re-taining any distinctive signs. Should. the nursing sister simply wear the same uni-form as that of her colleagues in the profession? Should the teaching sister wear a variety of styles readily oh, tainable at the downtown department store? Should the i home missionary don a smart and comfortable business woman's suit? In the opinion of this male observer, the answer is a qualified "no." This is undoubtedly the opin-ion of the vast majority of sisters: there is deep value in the external symbols of one's religious profession. Pre-cisely what forms these symbols should take in order that they be appropriate for our modern age'is a matter which will have to be handled largely through experi-mentation; developments to date have been in the right direction, but certainly not definitive (perhaps we should expect and accept constant adaptation in this matter, as in the liturgy). Though all agree on the necessity of retaining symbols, be they ever so "modernized," it may prove worthwhile to review one of the most substantial reasons for our insistence upon retaining externals of some sort. To this writer, one of the most cogent "arguments" for the existence and activity of God is the astounding love which breaks out (who can say how often?) in this world of ours. This love can be "astounding" even if it be only a kind word at the right time, a friendly "hello" offered in passing, or a thoughtful gesture only slightly out of the ordinary. The more dramatic or "heroic" act of love--such as the total personal commitment of marriage or of the religious life--is all the more revela-tory of the power of God operative in the hearts of men. Experience teaches us that there is something wonder-ful in a person who has risen above the childish and petty egocentrism which in various forms infects hu-manity. And in divine revelation we have a clear state-ment of the truth to which experience opens us: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Though this writer finds this train of thought most interesting and helpful, many in our modern world find it something less than immediately exciting. The con-nection between human love at its best and the power of God very often goes unnoticed. Deep, strong love (in many cases of a calibre worthy of imitation by many a nominal Christian) abounds in the heart and soul of a great number of men who consider themselves "atheists" or "agnostics" or "secular humanists" but who probably qualify as "anonymous Christians." We have good reasons as well as strong inclinations to consider these noble hu-man persons as brothers of Christ and sons of God, heirs of the same eternal life which we Christians hope to at-tain (see Mt 95:31--45). The modern man who is truly Christlike in his charity is surely a brother of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is indeed the Spirit of Love. Such a person need only be brought to an explicit awareness of his true position before God. Whether this Human Love VOLUME 28, 1969 199 J. E. Mulligan, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O0 exp1icitation is absolutely necessary for salvation, is a theological question which we cannot take up here; that it is.desirable and beneficial for the person, that it is the will of God, and that it is the proper task of the mission-ary Church cannot be doubted. How then is the connection between great human love and the power of God to be drawn clearly in the minds of men? How will men of good will come to real-ize their true religious identity? Surely this wonderful moment of recognition can follow immediately upon a strong experience of being loved with a love surpassing the powers of our wounded human nature. Who can know the unsearchable ways of God, the ways in which He can make His presence known in the hearts of men? What we can know, however, is that God has estab-lished in His Church certain "ordinary" ways by which men should be able to see the connection of which we are speaking, that is, the religious context of all genuine human love. The liturgy, for instance, consists basically of ritual acts of human love, no less authentic for being ritual, set in an abundantly sacred context; the religious life as a visible institution is meant also to be a sign Of the intimate link between love and Love. The woman who loves her neighbor with a striking love and who clearly derives the sustenance for this extraordinary love from her union with God stands as a powerful sign of the connection with which we are concerned. The religious proclaims to the world that love, and especially continuing growth in love, depends upon our cooperation with the Spirit of Love whom Jesus Christ pours forth upon humanity, thereby accom-plishing the work of redemption. If this proclamation is to be effective, however, two elements must be safe-guarded and nurtured: the fraternal love must be sincere and genuine, or else it will strike no one and will fail to touch off the wonder which points to God; secondly, the person showing this genuine love must also show some clear sign of her relationship with God, or else her love will be viewed as nothing more than the highest flowering o[ the human spirit. A true combination of both these elements can be nothing short of overwhelming. The student will be deeply struck one day, perhaps far in the future, by the inestimable service given him by the sister in the seventh grade; and he will ask him-self whether her union with God, somehow manifest, might have had anything to do with her capacity to love so generously and so constantly. The patient in the hospital will find kindness and competent care in the person of the nursing sister at a time when he is most in need of these precious gifts; he will undoubtedly find himself wondering whether her slightly distinctive uni- form may signify a Power greater than herself gently assisting her human heart. The family in Appalachia or in one of our big city ghettoes, olSpressed and exploited by an unconcerned affluent society, will be touched by the "no strings attached" help given by the visiting sister; the family will see that this remarkable woman is in love with both God and them at the same time, as if the one love is identical with the other. This, then, is one reason (to this writer the most im-portant and most meaningful) for retaining some form of distinctive religious dress. By all means, let sisters continue to experiment with new styles in an attempt to find more appropriate twentieth century symbols of religious profession. Also, let sisters continue to try on new and appropriate fashions which will not bushel-basket that femininity which is absolutely essential for incarnating the love of God in all its breadth and beauty. However, for the reason which we have suggested in the latter part of this article and for other reasons which may be equally cogent, let us not throw out the baby (appropriate and necessary symbolism) with the bath (outmoded and "sexuality neutralizing" costumes). The religious must be in tune with the times, di.stinctly masculine or feminine, a living proof of the connection between true human love and the Spirit of Love. 4, VOLUME.28, 1969 201 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Biblical Concept of Virginal Love Thomas Dubay, S.M., teaches at Russell College; 2300 Adeline Drive; Burlingame, Cali-fornia 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 202 Half an eye trained on recent ,religious thin.king in-forms one that a great deal of literature has appeared in the last decade on the psychology of loving in the Chris: tian context. For the most part this has been a praise-worthy effort to broaden the place and sharpen the orientation of human love within the ecclesial commu-nity; yet one still frequently finds considerable diver-gence of view among, religious men and women as to how the generally agreed upon norms are to be prac-ticed in concrete situations. We wish in this essay not simply to tread over worn terrain but to suggest some specifics, specifics stemming from Scripture and virgin-ity. We primarily envision religious women, although with some modifications what we say concerns men as well. Philosophical Roots Even though our main intent is Biblical and practical, we may preface our discussion with several philosophical considerations. In the long run practical solutions to knotty problems are no better than their (often merely assumed and unexpressed) theoretical substructure. At the same time speculation must always be in touch with experience, with concrete, here and now reality. Because she is a person, a human person, a feminine human person, the sister must love warmly. Her love must appear, be visible. Why? Because virginal love is incarnated, not angelic. It is human and a witness to humans. For a reason we shall point out later this is to say that it is affectionate. But because we are at the moment dealing with philosophy, not theology, we may leave the witness aside. Virginal love is incarnated and therefore affectionate because it is human love--steeped in supernatural moti-vation, of course, but still human. In fact, it cannot be anything else but' human. No being can act otherwise than as it is. We never expect a duck to perform as a camel. A woman can love only as a woman, a human being ot the feminine sex. Now human nature is in-carnated spirit, a dual reality, material-spiritual. Man is not monistic. Merleau-Ponty's negation ot a fundamental dualism in man is an oversimplification of human exist-ence. Man is not merely a body-subject, an I-body. The profound dualism in his sense-intellect knowing, to cite one example, is an irreducible pluralism that renders a human monism an inadequate explanation of available evidence. Human love, therefore, must also be dual,, it it is to be tully human and not something else. Like its source, the person, man's love must be rooted in spirit but shown through matter, conceived in soul but en-fleshed in body. Affectionate love is simply love incar-nated. It is a love that appears. One need not syllogize to its existence. As a daughter of Eve the religious woman does not loveproperly and fully until she loves affectionately. She is no exception to the roots of reality, no metaphysical oddity. She loves as she is. There is yet another reason why the virgin's love for 1hen is warm, composite, incarnated. It is a reason rooted in the deepest center of her being. She is good, a person good, and goodness tends to pour itself out. She is a social good, so she must pour herself out into others and receive these others back into herself. A woman (and a man, too, but not quite so pronouncedly) is never satis-fied until she loves. She cannot be satisfied unless she loves, for until she loves incarnatedly she is violating a law of being: goodness goes out; person goodness loves persons and shows it. This ontological factor works in the opposite direction as well. Because she is good and beautiful, the sister re-quires that her goodness and beauty be acknowledged, recognized in a way she can see and experience. To say this psychologically, she needs a strong self image, a self image she can derive only from others, from their appreciation and shown love. This is to say once again that deeply rooted in her human make-up is a need to receive affection. What we are implying, then, is that the religious woman's consecration does not exempt her from the laws of human nature or from the metaphysical structure ot the real. Scriptural Roots But still more must be said. There are supernatural reasons as well as natural ones tot saying that religious are to love warmly. Christian love is human love. It must therefore be affectionate. Shakespeare was pointing in the right direction when he observed that "they do Yirginal Love VOLUME ~'8, 1969 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 204 not love that do not show their love." x Christ himself was affectionate. He embraced children for no other verifiable reason than to love warmly and to show it. He "looked with love" on the rich young man, which is nothing other than to gaze affectionately. He wept at Lazarus' tomb, a remarkable display of feeling in a man. He who could fearlessly castigate the Pharisees could also correct Martha tenderly by repeating her name twice as a preface to his admonition. The letters of Paul, Peter, and John are replete with expressions of endearment and concern. Where could these originally rough men have learned this Christian way of loving if not from Christ? The Master had already made it clear that a Christian ¯ can be detected in the world by his observable love. Men are to see how we love, be struck by it, and con-clude from this sight who we are.2 Affectionate love can be seen. Cold or neutral love may not be noticed even when it is proved by deed., witness the merely efficient nurse. In any event merely willed love does not draw men as the Christian is to draw them. If the reli-gious is a gospel woman, she is an affectionate woman. She may be nothing else. Practical Implications So much for basic principles. They are plain, hardly subject to hot dispute. Not so, however, with concrete situations, problems, objections. Even a casual acquaint-ance with convent life makes clear that the whole area of close love relationships has been, and still often enough remains, subject to misunderstanding, to excess, to de-fect. One underestimates the complexities and depths of human nature if he believes that in this matter ~pecifics are as easy to handle as generalities. Because we think we recognize the difficulties inherent in our subject, our intent here is modest. We wish to propose some real questions and to suggest, for whatever value they may have, some honest answers. - How does a consecrated woman show a warm love in a manner appropriate to her state? Our first reaction to this question is to note that ordinarily a woman is a better judge of feminine warmth than a man is. And if she happens to be at the same time a holy woman, she knows by a kind of instinct how to love rightly. Yet a man may presume to suggest a few guides. Obviously enough, marks of affection vary greatly with the situa-tion of the recipient. A sister rightly embraces a first-grade boy who has fallen down the staircase, but she is The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act 1, Scene 2. Jn 13:M-5. likely to show her concern in another manner toward a twelfth-grader beset with a teenage problem. The New Testament offers many examples of what a holy, adult affection is like. There is the cordial, warm greeting,8 the holy kiss,4 the affectionate embrace,~ the loving gaze,n a warmth of manner in speech,r a kindly gentleness in the face of a brother's faults,s a tenderness and love in correcting others,9 a deep interest in the in-dividual and his concerns,1° an openness to all,ix a com-forting of those in trial and sorrowA~ Peter sums it all up in saying that our love is to be sincere and intense.~3 A prayerful study of these texts and many others like them will disclose to mogt of us that we have a long way to go before we love as Christians are supposed to love. Because the virgin is a model of evangelical life, she may not be anything but affectionate. The program of how this is to be done is plain enough in the Gosp.els and Epistles. She will find its implementation a lifetime task. She ma~ find it helpful to, work at this task in her par-ticular examen, taking as her specific guides one Scrip-tural theme or text at a time. Doing this she cannot help becoming a lovable woman. Is there not danger to chastity in this warm love? Yes, of course, there is danger, just as there is danger in the pursuance of any good, even the spiritual goods of the intellect. But one may not always solve "excess prob-lems" by removing the possibility of excess through a radical uprooting of the good. When the Master re-flected on the risk of worldliness in His apostles, He did not meet the problem by shutting off the possibility. Rather He explicity declared that they were to remain in the dangerous situation, in the world, but were to be kept free from being tainted by it.14 It is interesting, too, ~hat nowhere (as far as we can find) does the New Testa-ment indicate a concern about the dangers found in a holy affection. Perhaps the reason is that the genuine SRom 1:7; 16:3-16; 1 Cor 16:19; Phil 4:21-3; Col 4:7-18. ~Lk 15:20; Rom 16:16; 1 Cor 16:20; 2 Cor 13:12; 1 Th 5:26; I Pt 4:14. ~ Mk 10:16; Acts 20:37-8. ~ Mk 10:21. ~Rom I:11; 1 Cor 4:17; 15:58; 16:24; 2 Cor 7:~,I~; 10:I; Phil 1:7-8; 4:1; 1 Th 2:7-8,20; ~:1-7; 1 Tm 1:2; 1 Jn 2:1,7,12,14,18,28; ~ Jn 1,5,11; Jude ~,20. s Eph 4:2,~2; 2 Tim 2:24-5; 1 Pt 3:8-9. ~ Lk 10:41; 1 Cor 4:14; 2 Cor 2:4-8; Gal 6:1; Col ~:12-~. xo 1 Cor 12:26; 2 Cor 12:14-5; Phil 2:17-8; 1 Th 2:11. ~x 2 Cor 6:11-3. ~2 Cor 1:3-4; 7:6-7; 1~:11; £ph 6:22; Col 2:1-2; 1 Th 5:11; 2 Tim 1:16; Phlm 20. xs I Pt 1:22. :~Jn 17:14-7: "They are not oI the world, even as I am not of the world. I do not pray that thou take them out of the world, but that thou keep them ~rom evil." ¥irglnal Love VOLUME 28, 1969 205 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 man of God and the holy virgin know plainly enough-- because their honesty bares the deceitful motive--why really they are affectionate and how their love is ap-propriately shown. Warm affection is risky for the fool-ish virgin, the worldly virgin, but not for the wise and prayerful one. On the contrary, for the latter this kind of sisterly love protects and fosters her dedicated chastity: "Everyone should remember--superiors especially--that chastity has stronger safeguards in a community when true fraternal love thrives among its members." ~g If a sister is a woman of deep contemplative prayer, we need have little fear that her warm love for others will pose any proximate danger to her purity or to theirs. If she is not a prayerful woman, the opposite may well be the case. May a sister [oster a close [riendship with a priest or layman? At the outset of this article we already im-plied our affirmative reaction to this question. The ex-ample of Christ's love for Martha and Mary and that of the saints for persons of the opposite sex (for example, Teresa and Gratian, Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal) demand this affirmative response. And so does com-mon sense. Sexual love neither is co-terminous with geni-tal- sexual love nor requires it. The sexes are comple-mentary not only on the physical level but also on the emotional, intellectual, volitional, and supernatural lev-els. an The fact that the consecrated woman benefits from masculine influences (such as teaching, spiritual direc-tion) in her formation (and do not men profit £rom feminine influences in theirs?) suggests that she may grow as a religious woman through friendship with a man. Now all of this is being said with increasing frequency both in print and in private conference. But something else has also to be said. And it is rarely said. That this kind of close friendship be advisable demands conditions and qualifications. Not any apparently good male-female relationship may be said to correspond to that of Teresa and Gratian or Francis and Jane. We have already in-dicated what some of these qualifications are. Most of us would agree that a sister should show a sincere warmth toward all men and women, but we are not agreed as to what overdemonstrativeness may be. For our part we cannot share the view that embracing is a suitable sign of affection between religious persons of the opposite sexes. The current multiplication of tragedy that scan-dalizes the faithful and ruins consecrated lives plainly ~ Vatican II, Decree on Religious LiIe, n. 12. ~ See Chapter 3 of von Hildebrand's Man and Woman for a help-ful explanation of this complementarity. shows how naive this view really is. Some people learn only by personal disaster that they are like the rest of men. A propensity toward physical demonstrativeness suggests strongly that the friendship is not on the high-est supernatural level, that it is not thoroughly immersed in God, in a mutually deep prayer life. Unreasonably frequent or protracted conversations and deliberate ro-mantic daydreaming likewise cause one to wonder whether there is question of the love of the Holy Spirit. The virgin is concerned with the things of the Lord that she may be holy in body and in spirit and that she may .pray without distraction. In our view that priest or sister ~s naive who feels that long and frequent visits, kissing and embracing are conductive to the love of the Chris-tian virgin. If this is what "the third way" means, there is no third way. Even aside from the obvious.question of chastity, one may wonder regarding this type of relation-ship how intently the religious can be concerned with the things of the Lord, how deeply she can be committed to her life of contemplation and apostolic action. From the positive point of view a sister may rest as-sured that her love is fully virginal if the thought of the other suggests to her mind the thought of God; if the relationship really helps her to a deeper prayer life, a perfect observance of her rule, an evangelical spirit of detachment, a more profound loyalty to her own vir-ginal vocation and to the members of her own commu-nity, a ~niversal warmth toward others; if their con-versation or correspondence is concerned mainly with God and His affairs. If these norms for virginal love are correct, one may speculate that this sort of friendship is not at all as common as may be supposed. Is affectionate love compatible with the detachment demanded by the New Testament? Twenty years ago many of us would have returned an unhesitatingly nega; tive answer to this question or we would have at least felt inclined to such an answer. Today we more easily understand that warm love and evangelical detachment are reconcilable, although not too many are able to bar. monize new psychology with old spirituality. The prob-lem here, of course, is not a clash between oldness and newness but between sound psychology and twisted spir-ituality. Both affectionate love and gospel austerity are as valid today as they ever were, for the New Testament plainly teaches both of them over and over again. The simplistic mind is uncomfortable with complex dualities and it seeks to resolve a paradox by denying one pole of it. Two decades ago it was common to deny that warmly shown love was proper in a religious, while today it is popular to say that detachment is passd. Yet the New Testament teaches both the .one and the ÷ ÷ ÷ Virginal VOLUME 28~ 1969' " ÷ ÷ Thomas l~bay REVIEW FOP. RELIGIOUS 208 other. It is the same Christ who demands that we re-nounce all things (Lk 14:33) and who embraces children warmly (Mk 10:16). The same John teaches that we must die like grain buried in the ground (Jn 12:24-5) and yet deals with the recipient~ of his first letter with remark-able terms of endearment (1 Jn 2, passim). The first letter of Peter warns against "selfish passions" (1 Pt 2:11), encourages a joy in sufferings (4:12-3) and at the same time urges intense brotherly love shown with a "kiss of love" (1:22; 5:14). The same Paul who cautions against superfluities and himself has nothing (1 Tim 6:7-8; 2 Cor 6:10) also loves his Christians with the warmth and tenderness of a deeply affectionate father (passim). Nowhere in the new revelation do we read the least hint of a clash. Why? Simply because affectionate love is by no means the same as selfish love. On the contrary, it is often a crucifying love. Showing affection to an attractive person is a delight, to a dull or cold individual it is a thorn. Moreover--and this is important and not always under-stood-- we should not see a dichotomy between loving God wholly and our neighbor warmly. Even less should we suppose an opposition. Precisely because Christian love is both one and incarnated but with several objects (God, ourselves, angels, neighbor), it must be warmly shown. This is why St. Paul looked upon the Romans as "God's beloved" (1:7). Because they were God's dear ones, they necessarily became Paul's dear ones in a virile yet intimate sense. Unshown love is a partial self-contradiction. We find this same warm affection in the most austere and detached of God's saints, for they knew what affectionate love and genuine detachment really mean. They did not live by caricature. One need only read the correspondence of an Augustine, a John Chrys-ostom, a Teresa of Avila, a Francis de Sales to see what we mean, Even John of the Cross (andwho could be remotely tempted to conceive him as lacking in detach-ment?), a man short on words but long on deeds, is said to have walked 30 or 40 miles barefooted to visit his warmly loved nuns at Beas. What we are saying, of course, is by no means opposed to the traditional detach-ment doctrine of these same saints. There is a certain in-tellectual snobbery implied in the suggestion one hears today that the goodness and value of love between the sexes, even between religious, is quite a new discovery unknown to our elders in the faith. And there is no little theological inadequacy implied in thinking that this kind of love somehow rules out an integral evangel-ical asceticism. How does One become affectionate? This apparently naive question is really a worthwhile question, one that is susceptible of several interpretations: How does a sister acquire a warm manner toward unattractive personali-ties? How does one love affectionately who feels no warmth toward anyone? How does a person deepen a warm manner she already possesses to some extent, yet not sufficiently? We shall take up each problem in turn. First, how can a sister who does love some people warmly acquire a warmth toward others whom she finds unappealing? If a woman (or man) can love some per-sons warmly and deeply, her problem is motivational, not psychological, when she is cold toward others. Ba-sically she is capable of full human love, since as a matter of fact she does love humanly the few people that appeal to her. But she does not see that the others are also lova-ble and so she is not at all inclined to go out toward them. She needs to develop a largeness of heart, an op-timism of viewpoint that searches out beauty and good-ness, the largeness and optimism of St, Paul who saw enough beauty and goodness in his new (but far from perfect) Christians that he could view them as "God's beloved." If God loves a man, that man must somehow be lovable. It is our task to find out how. The warmth is then easier to come by. Yet it is not come. by without a concomitant spirit of sacrifice. If affection is to be shown toall men and not only to a select few,~the cross of self-denial must indeed be taken up daily. Otherwise we can-not be disciples, if the mark of a disciple is a love men can see and experience. A more perplexing problem (for the person who ex-periences it) is a total lack of affectionate feeling toward others. The problem is not only perplexing; it is likely to be both deep and of long standing. Its roots go back in most cases to an early home life in which little warm love was shown. Though the adult devoid of affection-ate feelings may say she needs neither manifestations of love from others nor her own showing of it to them, she is nevertheless a psychologically starved person. She may not understand what has happened to her, but she has built walls about her person. She is encapsuled. She is dying a death. She is in a state of psychological famine, dying of lovelessness. What can be done for this person who does not know how to love humanly and in a feminine manner? She may need professional therapy. She surely" needs a friend, a close friend. She needs understanding and ac-ceptance. She needs to learn that she is worthwhile, lovable. When she is accepted, understood, loved suffi-ciently, she will slowly become capable of returning love, of warming up to others. But the process is slow. All concerned with her problem need patience, herself included. + + + VOLUME 28, 1969 209 ÷ ÷ Thomas Duba~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 210 We may pause here to insist that the deeply felt need (even in a sister) to love and to be loved is no imperfec-tion. On the contrary, the deeper the need, the nobler the woman. It is the person who feels no need that is ill, for she is affectionately numb. On the physical level loss of appetite indicates illness, while hunger points to health and the consumption of vital energy. So also a hunger for love, real love, points toward psychological well-being, for deeply hidden in the recesses of the hu-man person is .the ontological clamor that goodness and beauty be recognized by another's love. Our final question: how does a religious who can and does love warmly develop and deepen her capacity for virginal affection? She must be herself, of course. She must grow normally as a woman with all the inner richness this implies. Genuine love is rooted. It cannot grow from the surface, from an inner vacuum. From the point of view of how this love is to be manifested the sister learns how a Christian virgin loves warmly by ob-serving those among her companions who do know how. Yet affection is not as easily taught as table manners. There is a universality about its signs, but there is also the uniquencess of the individual, and what is more unique than personal love? Still, a sister should be able to learn from the more finely developed among her companions how the consecrated woman shows her love for men. She learns, too, from her inborn reactions toward the opposite sex. Probably one reason why God made the sexes mutually attractive is that men and women learn from mutual relations how to show concern, warmth, cordiality toward members of their own sex. A normal, woman finds that affability toward men comes more naturally and easily than toward women. (And this is surely true also in the case of the man toward women.) Even though she does not show marks of love toward other women in exactly the same ways as toward men, she should learn much from the latter expe.riences, stemming as they do from her inborn feminine inclina-tion. Heterosexual love (which is not, of course, co-ter-ruinous with genital-sexual love), we may then say, is a partial model of human love in general. It is therefore a model for the virgin also, for she remains a sexual being with all the qualities and beauties this implies. The sister further develops her affectionate manner by a careful and prayerful contemplation of the gospel. After she has diligently studied her Christ embracing children for no other reason but to show warmth in His love, "looking with love" (a mysterious phrase) on a rich youth, correcting Martha in so gentle and tender a man-ner, weeping at Lazarus' tomb, she turns for further guidance to John, Peter, and especially to Paul. The letters of these virile (and before their conversion, crude) men are replete with examples of how to show affection in an adult manner. As an evangelical woman the sister should be filled with their spirit and practice. The final source from which the religious learns to love warmly: contemplation, deep contemplation, es-pecially infused contemplation. It is no accident that St. Paul reminds his Thessalonians that they "have learned from God to love one another" (1 Th 4:9). There is no better teacher of warmth and tenderness than He who could utter the divine verse recorded by Luke: "While he [a sinner] was still a long way off, his hther saw him and was moved with pity. He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him tenderly" (Jerusalem Bible). One cannot get more affectionate than this. In the profound center of her own being where Love is more present to her womanly heart than she herself is the sister can find out how to be a loving woman. Though her indwelling Beloved teaches without words, He pours out from her deepest center the very love by Which she loves Him and others. Through the tenderness of His inner infusions she tastes and sees how good He is. She learns from experience that those who seek the Lord want for no good thing. Her good is to take refuge in the Lord she bears in her bosom and from Him she discovers what tenderness is like. So true is it that the contemplative learns from her inabiding Beloved how to be a lover herself, that we would suspect as inauthentic any alleged contemplation that is not accompanied by a warm love for others, or, at the very least, by a sincere, persevering effort in that direction. Contemplation cannot be walled in, aseptic, sterile. By its own inner dynamism, a vertical and horizontal en. ergy, it must burst out into love for men. Together with the instruction of Sacred Scripture and the love flowing out of the sacraments contemplation is the source of deep human love. All of which is to say that the sister must be a Scriptural woman, an ecclesia1 woman, a contemplative woman, if she is going to be a profoundly loving woman. 4. 4. VOLUME 28, 1969 PLACID STROIK, O.F.M. Sanctification and Conquest in the World With a good conscience our only sure reward, with history the final judge of our deeds, let us go forth to lead the land that we love, asking His blessing and His help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own (JFK's Inaugural Address, January 1961). Once active faith in God's presence in the world takes hold of a man it begins to give direction to his actions. Not only does God's work really become his own, but also his work becomes the work of God. It is also a fact of experience that as things are it is impossible [or God to Work in this world without us. Very often we speak of God's great gifts to us "and all His marvelous works for us. At the same time we fail to realize the vast interplay and amount of work God has put into our hands to bring these gifts and works to their full development. Just as it is theologically incor-rect and misleading to expect salvation and sanctifica-tion through purely human effort, so also it is misleading to expect salvation even as a gift to come to us without. our effort of respgnse and acceptanc.e of this gift. It is much worse and also very unchristian to think that our faith with its heavy stress on another world and on be-coming holy has somehow absolved us from effort in building this world. ÷ Reconciling Upward and Forward ElYorts Pladd Stroik, O.F.M., is a mem-ber o[ the Francis. can Friars; Pulaski, Wisconsin 54162., ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 212 Historically it has always been a problem for followers of Christ to somehow bring together the vertical upward effort of sanctification and the horizontal forward effort of human progress and the conquest of the world. Over and over again the questions have been asked: Are they in opposition to each other? Is one just an acciden-tal backdrop to the other? Is there any inner connection between the two? In our present day these questions are extremely fundamental and are at the basis for much of the rethinking and turmoil going on in our religious doctrines and practices. Theologians as well as scientists are fast becoming aware of man's ability in the conquest of nature, the wor!d, and human life itself. This is beginning to put traditional religious ideas out of business. At one time, God, faith, the supernatural, and grace explained a lot of what happens around us. But now, man seems to get more answers and assurance out of things like space exploration, industrial and technical development, and human relations skills. As men put more and more ef-fort into understanding and controlling the universe we touch, see, and hear everyday, there is the conclusion developing that religious ideals and ideas no longer have a place in human life. The simple reasser.tion that God is alive and that He is important is not as convincing nor attractive as a heart transplant or a flight to the moon. That simply will not do. What is needed is a fresh outlook toward the way in which the process of becoming holy is somehow harmoniously interwoven with the human effort exerted in the direction of un-derstanding, building up, and controlling this universe. Such a fresh outlook will demand that we first of all get rid of all our false notions: about God and the world being in opposition to each other; about the supernatural being the best and the natural something that is second best or a mere accidental prelude to the supernatural; about the "afterlife" .being the sole im-portant thing and "nowlife" being a burdensome punish-ment. For many of us this also means trying to under-stand the correct way in which this present earthly life is a preparation for an open direct life with God. It means realizing that the universe is not some accidental stage play wherein what we do or what we build is meaningless unless we did it with a good intention and for the glory of God. What is required is the under-standing that the final coming of. Christ, just as His first coming, is conditioned by the development of man-kind. Because the full glory of Christ is intimately hound up with mankind it is also dependent upon the development of mankind. While the establishment of the new heavens and new earth spoken of in the Apoca-lypse is something Christ alone can bring about, it does not mean that they will appear out of the clear blue sky. Rather the unification that is evidently taking place among mankind seems to warrant the idea that until this unification is complete the entrance of the new heaven and new earth will not take place. The unification of mankind is not some kind of arbi-trary arrangement of individuals. It is in a very deep sense'th+ union brought about by the power and force of ÷ ÷ Conquest in World VOLUME 28, 1969 PlacidSOtt.Foi.lM~., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS love which is everywhere at work in the world. It is the same power which was at work on the first day of creation and is at work in the technological develop-ment of the world. It operates also in the specifically sanctifying deeds of the Incarnation, redemption, and their extensions, the sacraments. It is here that we can see the close connection between sanctification and de-velopment of the world. They are two efforts working in the same direction--the unification ~of mankind. Sanctification without the development of the world is unthinkable, just as development of the world without the painful redemptive efforts displayed and symbolized on the cross is an impossibility. The development of the world could not take place unless the effort to get rid of evil and disorganization were made as.well as the effort to see that truth, goodness, and beauty triumph. Sanctification must involve human endeavor and the op-eration of those powers which make a person to be a person, namely, his will, intelligence, and consciousness. As men use these powers in building up the world they are likewise working at their own unification. In this way the upward movement of becoming holy like God takes place while the forward movement of develop-ment of the universe is also taking place. The work of God and the work of man are constantly interchanging. We are not only becoming like God thru our work, but our work is more and more revealing God to us. Far from being in opposition, God's work of sanctification and man's work of building the universe are seen as two sides of the same coin or two paths to the same goal and destination. The sacred and the secular are closer to each other than we realize. Sanctification and Unification of the World It seems to be an unavoidable conclusion based pri-marily on man's experience .that the universe has been in a dynamic process of development and that the develop-ment is still going on. Looked at in its broadest sense, this development is best described as fulfilling the incompleteness of the creature and bringing organiza-tion and harmony to the disorder, failure, and disunity found at every level of created .being. Another way of looking at this is to think in terms of.°getting rid.of the evil, both moral and physical, that accounts for mechanical failures as well as the failures of the human will to choose the good. On this level we can see sanctification and unification working on the same broad principle. Sanctification is directed to furthering the God-centered harmonious functioning of man's powers of intellect, will, and consciousness, while unifi-cation is directed to an increasing organization of .the physical elements of the universe. In both the moral and physical sphere, mankind has had to wait for the proper time and the proper understanding of how these parts can better function together. Between the two processes of sanctification and,unifi-cation there is an exchange and an interdependence. For one thing, the harmonious functioning of man on the moral and spiritual level is obviously tied to a proper development of the physical well-being of the body. It does not guarantee good order on the moral level, but it is a condition. Health and wealth at a certain level are indispensable. We all know and experience that forced poverty has a way of crippling man's judgement of right and wrong, his sense of justice, and his esteem for his neighbor's welfare. Further, we should consider how the spread of the gospel, the development of moral value systems, and the knowledge of the sacramental means of sanctification are all dependent upon the proper use of mass communi-cations and upon a proper understanding of human re-lations and the difl~erent cultural values of a given group. On the other hand, sanctification and specifically Christian holiness and man's moral value systems as they develop and improve do assert a controlling effect on the direction and expression of physical evolution and technological advancement. For a very common ex-ample we can take the peaceful uses of nuclear energy which the moral values of nations are bringing about. Endeavor and Endurance for the Christian Today Because of the close interplay between the develop-ment of the .world and man's union with God, any religious ethic that separates the two is doomed not only to be unattractive but eventually will be proved to be erroneous. A legal morality of do's and don't's must give way to a dynamic morality of conquest. The pro-gram for a Christian today must be one that envisions union with God in and thru the world. In attaining this union, it is fundamental for Chris-tians to accept and understand that the universe by God's plan has been locked dead center on Christ. The world as we know it is headed toward Christ as its center and fullness. Every development both of material growth and spiritual growth is aimed at building up a new heaven and new earth, centered in Christ. In this conquest, the Christian consciously and all men by their very existence are called to collaborate enthusiastically, knowing that by their fidelity and obedience and also thru the work they have accomplished, they are com-pleting this universe. Each person must sincerely work at development. His + + ÷ Conquest in the World VOLUME 28, 1969 O~.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS own personal development and the conquest of the world are to be done not simply to keep oneself busy and out of trouble but because this effort is vital to the building up of the universe. All effort that promotes and directly increases the general consciousness of mankind is the best effort. The highest moral principles guiding hu-man action are not those which protect and safeguard man's rights and duties, but those Which promote the best development of the person, society, and the world. In other words, those things which are in the direction of growth of the spirit of man are good, and what is best is that what assures the highest development of the spiritual powers of the earth. If our action furthers the unification and development of the world and the peo-ple in it, it is a good action. The question comes up as to how we can determine if our action furthers growth. Basically our general goal is to increase personal responsibility, freedom, and hu-man consciousness. This is not an easy order, and that is "why emphasis must be placed on the three charac-teristics of human endeavor that will allow for the de-velopment of human consciousness and personal re-sponsibility: Purity, charity, and self-denial are three basic strengths which provide for the necessary growth. When speaking of purity it is important to under-stand it in a dynamic sense, not in any passive restrictive sense. Purity is that power which seeks to organize all our personal energies along the lines of personal whole-ness and integrity--getting rid of those elements in us which tend to pull our forces in a thousand disorganized directions. In unifying the powers of man, purity brings about a conquest and achievement which frees the person for an ever greater expression of the power of love. Purity seeks the unification of the person, while charity is directed to the unification of persons among themselves. For many of us love or charity is simply a command to avoid hurting our neighbor or overstep-ping his rights. This is a rather narrow, negative view of charity. It fails to take in the dynamic element of active furthering of the growth of our neighbor and of the whole universe. Love as energy in its widest sense is the power which draws all things together. It has a synthesizing effect. Love when it takes on the form of Christian charity is all the more powerful because it is the effort of unification, but now in Christ and thru Christ. Charity inspired by Christ is charity which moves and advances mankind and the whole universe toward Him. In the final analysis, love is not only positive and dynamic, but universal and totally directed to building up the world into a unity in Christ. For the Christian who is sincerely interested in the true progress and development of the world, the mes-sage of the cross in terms of self-denial, detachment, and renunciation is as important as seeing a computer operate an assembly line and a turbine generator light a city. He knows and experiences the detachment that must go into an enthusiastic collaboration with the whole human effort in furthering the growth of the world toward the fullness of Christ. In accomplishing any ideal, the difficult labor involved is necessarily a victory over selfishness and egotistical laziness. This detachment thru .action on the material of life is a continuation of and is patterned on the method ex-pressed in the Incarnation--immersion and insertion into the world so as to transform and lead the world to God. But experience shows us that the most radical trans-formation of people and things takes place not thru a simple laborious effort to create and produce but thru the endurance of evils and failures, stresses and painful strains including that of death. A world that is still in the process of development must of necessity have fail-ures and faults for the simple reason that it is not com-plete. Thru the plan of God and man's cooperation, the failures can be brought to serve a higher purpose. Even the impurity in a stone can be made to add beauty and tone to the final product. A moral defect thru the trans-formation of repentance can be the occasion of a greater good. All of the suffering involved in the endurance of evil and that of death has for its final aim the union of man with God in and thru Christ. Such union cannot take place without a going out of oneself. Union revolves around love and love means giving oneself to the one loved. Death in our world is the process by which the final and complete union with God is accomplished. It is the decentering of our self and centering on God. This involves a change of state, but in all development at a certain point a complete rearrangement of elements is necessary for the further functioning on a higher level. The significance of Christ's necessary death and His new form of life after it is a fact of history which is able to give validity and assurance to all men that death is not the end of all but the door to a change of life. Contemporary Man and the Future It is easy enough for modem man to exert the effort to build a new world if the dangers and ris~ are not too great. The vast development of the world which we are now experiencing is not an absolute guarantee that man's progress will always be forward and upward. The 4- ÷ .Conquest in the VOLUME 28, 1969 " 217 temptation to revolt in the face of great odds and diffi-culties is as possible as it ever was. As man becomes more complex and his consciousness more highly developed, the possibilities for further progress are just as good as the possibilities for destruction. It all depends how man chooses to use his powers--in the direction of greater growth in true Christian life or in selfish temporary satisfaction. The urgency to get out of oneself and build a better world for all men is not a call to be answered later. The forces involved in a developing universe are forces that are centered in Christ and ultimately in God the Father. Christ's invitation to be with Him and gather or else to be against Him and scatter is both a promise and a threat that either we build with Him or be cast aside into unending disorganization and disunity. Heaven and hell are as real as they are totally opposite each other. Heaven is full of life in perfect harmony. Hell is empty life in total discord. Man at every point in history must simply choose to build the earth and its spiritual forces in and with Christ or to build a "nothing" out-side Him. + 4. + P/~id O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS CARLO A. WEBER, S.J. The Field oJ Combat: Neurotic or Existential Guilt There is no domain in which the acute problem of communication between theology and psychology is more evident than in the experience of guilt. Stormy en-counters on the nature and origins of the experience, its place in human development, its effects on human lives wage on without much hope of resolution, largely because the language, the symbols, and the context of the discussion are not the same for all the contestants. The field of combat is common to all; but the rules of the game are not ~he same. A split-level mode of com-munication has prevailed. Jung remarked of this en-counter that " . both appear to use the same language, but the language calls up in their minds two totally different fields of association. Both [theologians and psychologists] can apparently use the same concept, and then are bound to acknowledge to their amazement that they are speaking of two different things." And to make the issue even more complex, one can add the profes-sional legalist to the lists. For from yet another stance, the lawyer is also concerned with problems of guilt. The experience of guilt, then, is the common playing field for theologians, psychologists, lawyers. But for each, it means whatever the methodological conditioning of his own discipline obliges it to mean. For the moral theologian, it has generally suggested reprehensibility, culpability, blame-worthiness, sin. For the lawyer, it means, specifically, responsibility before the law, civil or ecclesiastical, or criminality as determined by legal can-ons. And for the psychologist, in sharp contrast, it im-plies rather a first-level symptom, the crippling expres-sion of a depreciating self-concept, perhaps the residue of a super-ego-oriented childhood training. + 4- ,I, Carlo A. Weber, S,J., is Director o[ Psychological Serv-ices; Loyola Univer-sity of Los Angeles; Los Angeles, Cali-fornia 90045. VOLUME 28, 1969 219 Carlo Weber, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 220 When the discussants in the dialogue use the same word to denote such utterly different things, communica-tion soon dissolves into futile bickering over semantics. Guilt is sin; guilt is crime; guilt is symptom. The vocal sounds one hears in the dialogue alert the same signals; but the phenomena signalized are in no way the same. In such a conversation of nonmeanings, a fruitless and frus-trating collision course is inevitable. It is like approach-ing a railroad crossing without the slightest assurance that the waving semaphore symbolizes an approaching train or an unimpeded right-of-way. One would be better off without the semaphore in such a case; and so we might be better off without the word "guilt." The "guilt-language," as the "God-language" in many instances, or the "soul-language," oi other similar efforts at non-communication might best be scrapped, that we might attempt an uncluttered look at the phenomenological realities and then allow a new language to emerge to fit the reality. Orwell's "New-speak," or Cattell's crypto-scientific system of operational definitions in psycho-metrics may, however wild they first seem, be something of the answer. We might well avoid the confusion that always arises from previous connotations to a word by introducing entirely different sound associations. The present state of affairs, then, is largely one in which the language of guilt tends to divide authorities rather than to aid communication between them. When the psychologist hears his legal associate describe a man's guilt in court and watches him step nimbly through what appears to be a maze of legal fictions, he finds the process frightfully objective, abstract, impersonal, inhuman. But the lawyer is not really describing the psychologist's "guilt." The theologian is properly horri-fied, on the other hand, when he hears the psychologist's attempts to gloss over the reality of guilt and speak of it as some neurotic myth. This, to him, is a form of "psy-chologizing"-- foggy, anarchic, and sentimental. But the psychologist is not, in fact, describing the theologian's "guilt" either; indeed, if he is loyal to his methodology, he has nothing to say of it. One could, of course, con-tinue with this litany of misunderstanding; the cross-cultural impasses are possibly as evident as the semantic circus of an international diplomatic conference. Though it may be next to impossible to draw meaning from this semantic labyrinth, we are, nonetheless, stuck with it. It is of value to note that within the verbal en-tente, orientations which have traditionally set the con-testants apart do emerge. It may be helpful to try to clarify them. For the psychologist, guilt is strictly a sub-jective phenomenon, a feeling, if you will, that can be-come almost the pervasive element of one's inner experi- ence. The psychologist, as such, is little concerned about the external, objective counterpart of the experience. His world, as a clinician, is the perceptual world, not pre-cisely the accuracy of the percepts. Whether one's feeling of guilt, therefore, is rooted in anti-social actions, or in an interiorized, guilt-ridden self-concept is not pre-cisely the point. It is now the individual's feeling; and the psychologist deals with it as such. He also realizes that the intensity of the experience is not necessarily in proportion to the quality of an external action or event. One individual may experience crushing guilt subsequent to running a red light at a deserted intersection; another may remain blandly guilt-free after bludgeoning a harm-less old lady's skull. Such a feeling of guilt is clearly not the function of some specific external action; but it is rather the correlate and the expression of his own inner awareness of his value, or rather the lack of it. The inner awareness is the point of differentiation for the psycholo-gist. For both the moral theologian and the lawyer, however, there is an objective emphasis in the philosophy of guilt. An objective norm which has been violated is the criterion according to which one assesses guilt. That norm, of course, is not the same for both. For the lawyer, it is the civil or common law. For the moralist, it is the "will of God," expressed either through canon law, or the magisterium of a teaching Church, or the Sacred Books, or the natural law. But in each case, the norm is an external one; and guilt is the function of a violation of that norm. Once that has been established, the legalist can turn his atten-tion to the degree of individual-culpability, for example, knowledge of the existence of the norm, consciousness at the moment of violation, presence or absence of over-whelming emotional or physical duress, and so forth. So long as we can reasonably assume some subject-ob-ject dichotomy, these two arrangements appear to be quite different. The moral theologian and the lawyer, both with their own specific articulation of the norm of behavior, regard guilt as the individual's posture be-fore the law; the psychologist sees it more as the individ-ual's posture before himself. That there is room for an overlapping of these dimensions is as true as the fact that the subject-object dichotomy is not crystal clear; but, with that qualification, the criteria are different, and so also are the semantic worlds built around the two points of view. Unfortunately, the tradition of morality in the West has been heavily legal since the days when the Latin rite was imposed on the Western Church. And with the Latin rite came the Roman tradition which was one of law and legal prescriptions. The language and the emphasis of Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 Carlo Weber, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 222 the Western Church, when addressing itself to questions of mor~ility and guilt, has been on the side of law. Moral textbooks became classic examples of legal casu-istry. Room was always left, to be sure, for the "subjec-tive," as preserved in the distinction between formal and material sin; but the bulk of any discussion inevi-tably turned about a consideration of the objective or material guilt. Scarcely more than a condescending nod was given to the presence of the subjective element as the final determinant of sinfulness, with something of a begrudging acknowledgement that that aspect, after all, was the most important. But no effort at all was ex-pended, until very recent times, in attempting to provide some phenomenological map of the subjective. Perhaps the futility of that prospect obliged the moralists to turn their attention to the legal puzzle that was, after all, more intellectually satisfying and a good deal more comfort-able. One would suggest, mindful of the discussions swirling about Pope Paul's encyclical, Humanae vitae, that it is clear that the legal emphasis is still the pre[ vailing attitude of the official Church. The rupture within the Church is precisely a function of the person versus Law approaches to morality and guilt. When the law becomes the criterion for human be-havior, the stage is set for casuistic thinking :about morality. This implies a mental "set" in which one is concerned chiefly with the degree of deviation from the norm. How far, for example, can I deviate from the statement of the law and still be safe? Or, at what point of deviation do I stray from the area of safety to the do-main in which I must be classified as a sinner, if it be a moral law, or a criminal, if it be a civil law? Legal guilt is the consequence of straying outside the latitude which the law allows. In that area the legalo-moralist conducts his conceptual jousting. Only recently have attempts been made to bring about a wedding of the law and the personal in the various modes of situational ethics. And this, of course, is both the effect of the communion of psychologists and theologians and a stimulating rein-forcement for it. The norm becomes more an ideal which one strives to approach continuously throughout his life rather than a law from which one deviates. Neurotic Guilt The genesis of neurotic guilt, as described by the psychopathologist, follows a commonly described nuclear process that was most brilliantly outlined originally by Karen Horney. There are four discernible stages. The process begins with a faulty personality development in childhood. The child, whose first self-concept, as such, is the result of the interiorization of the value placed upon him by his parents, sees himself as those significant people in his life see him. If the child is rejected, un-wanted, ignored, neglected, he begins at an .early stage in psychological development to see himself as unworthy, unlovable. This is a fairly obvious situation and need not be explored at any length. The rejected child anticipates rejection' from others because that is the extent of his experience; and he can, in gross instances, unconsciously provoke rejection by hostile, abrasive conduct, precisely because of this expected response pattern. Such a child is almost bound to "always hurt the one he loves." At the other extreme of parental reaction, the child can be overprotected in his early years. The result is the absence of any process of growth into independence. The custo-dial love of the parent prevents the possibility of growth, and the child remains weak, helpless, dependent. In terms of the growth of a self-concept, the child will tend to see himself in the same manner and behave as such. No one is unfamiliar with the suffocating, devouring, .de-structive mother-child relationship, described first by Strecker, who coined the phrases "Morn" and "Mom-ism" in his classic, Their Mothers" Sons. The notion has become virtually a household word since, made even more popular with the expression of theories of a bur-geoning matriarchal society. Interestingly enough, the effect on the self-concept of the child of both rejection and overprotection is ap-proximately the same. These are simply two sides of the same coin. In either case, the child is not being valued for himself. The rejected child is not loved at all; the overprotected child is not loved, except as the mirror reflection of the mother, whose narcissistic needs are pro-jected on him. In both instances, the child disappears. This is also true, but not to the same extent, in the situa-tion where the parents' love for the child is conditional. The child is loved providing he follows certain ground rules established by the parents. Ground rules are essen-tial, of course, but they ought not to be the condition for acceptance. If they are, the child sees himself as valuable and lovable only as long as he continues to ful-fill the regulations for being loved. He ,must continue to perform the tasks prescribed; and, in time, the task-oriented process becomes a way of life. Whether the child is rejected, overprotected or conditionally-loved, the effect, in varying degrees, is the same. The child perceives him-self as inadequate, unlovable, helpless, or constantly in need of proving his value. The moral analogue to the psychological feeling of ineptness or inadequacy is the feeling of guilt. The latter is merely a translation 'of the same feeling from psycho-logical language to moral language. To say, in a psycho-÷ ÷ 4- Guilt VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS logical context;.that I am weak, flaccid,, incompetent, un-lovable is the same as saying, in a moral context, I am bad, sinful, guilty. The difference here between the neu-rotic guilt and genuine forms of responsible guilt lies in the difference between the phrase "I am bad" and the statement "I do bad things." The former is a description of the basic personality of the self-depreciating neurotic; the latter a description of occasional activity. The most apt expression of the neurotic guilt feeling was given me, quite incidentally, by a woman patient, who was in-credibly scrupulous. For her, every action was a sin. In a therapy session, she remarked, rather in passing: "You know, sin is in my veins." And with this cryptic obser-vation, she sums it all up. "Sin, badness, is as much a part of me as my very blood. It describes my life, my being, my essence, as it were. And since I am, in es-sence, sinful, every action, which, in fact, is an expres-sion of my nature, must be sinful. I shall either discover it there, as the scrupulou

Issue 13.3 of the Review for Religious, 1954. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MAY 15, i95.4 Pontificate of Pius X . , . . . J.P. Leonard Pray Reasonably . Joseph F. Gallen ¯ -Nature and Grace . : . Joseph P. Fisher New Little Office . o Adam C;.'Ellis Secular Institutes . . . Fr,~ncis N. K~orfh ¯ Father Larraona:s Golcl~n "Jubilee Questions and Answers ~ .~ Book Reviews News and Views ~ VOLUM~ Xlll,' NUMBER 3 VOLUME XIII MAY, 1954 NUMBnR 3 CONTENTS FATHER LARRAONA'S GOLDEN JUBILEE .1.1.3. THE PONTIFICATE OF PIUS X~ ~ Most Reverend d. P. Leonard, 8.J . 114 BI[,ESSED PlUS X--SOME D.ATES . 124 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 124 PRAY REASONABLY--Joseph F. Gallen, S.d . 125 NEWS AND VIEWS-- Pius X; Adaptation and Prayer: Silver Jubilee; Congress in Canada; Summer Sessions; Institute of Spirituality . 137 NATURE AND GRACE--Joseph P. Fisher, S.J .142 NEW REVIEW OF SPIRITUALITY . 148 NEW EDITION OF THE LITTLE OFFICE--Adam C. Ellis, S.J. 149 MORE ABOUT SECULAR INSTITUTES--Francis N. Korth, S.J. 153 PLENARY INDULGENCE FOR SEVEN SORROWS BEADS 159 BOOK REVIEW (Nature and Grace). . . 160 BOOKS ABOUT MARY . 160 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 161 MARIAN YEAR PLAY . 165 NOTICE FOR PUBLISHERS . 165 "QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 16. Form of Address for Sisters . 166 17. Bowing while Kneeling " 166 18.Duty of Delegate to Members Electing Him . 167 19. Cashing of Insurance Policy by Novice . ; 167 20. Tabernacle Veil for Benediction after Mass . 168 21. Flowers on Altar during Penitential Seasons . 168 PRAYER FOR SICK . " . 168 MORE INDEPEiklDENT AURELIANS . 168 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1954, Vol. XIII, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March,May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Copyright, 1954, ,by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due.credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writin9 to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. ON DECEMBER 8, 1953, the Most Reverend Father Arcadio Larraona, Secretary of tb~ Sacred Congregation of Religious, celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of his religious profession in the Congregation of the Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (C.M.F.). Father L~irraona was born in Spanish Navarre, November 12, 1887. At the age of twelve be entered the apostolic school of the Claretian Missionaries at Alag6n, near Zaragoza. After completing his classical studies, he made his novitiate at Vich, in the Province of Barcelona, and pronounced his first religious vows on December 8, 1903. His philosophical and theological studies were made at the University of Cerv~era. He was ordained priest in Zaragoza~ in 1911. Not long after ordination be went to Rome to do post-graduate studies in canon law. He received the degree of Doctor Utriusque Juris (Doctor of both Civil and Canon Law). Several years later, in 1918, he succeeded Cardinal Massimi in the chair-of Roman Law on the Faculty of San Apollinare. He held this posi-tion for over thirty years. In 1920, together with Fathers Maroto and Goyeneche, he founded the Comrnentarium pro Religiosis. of which he is the chief editor today, and in which he continues to publish what will un-doubtedly become the most exhaustive commentary on the canons of the Code concerning religious ever attempted. For twenty-five years and more he has been attached to^ the Sacred Congregation of Religious--first, as Consultor;. then as Under Secretary; finally, as Secretary. He became Under Secretary, November 27, 1943. By an Apostolic Brief dated November 11, 1950, Pope Plus XII appointe~'d him Secretary. He has also served other Sacred Congregations of the Roman Curia and will be espe-cially remembered for the active part he took in the formulation of the Code of Canon Law for the Eastern Church. It was our privi; lege to have him preside over the First National Congress of Reli-gious in the United Sates, held at the University of Notre Dame, August 9-12, 1952. The editors and readers of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS extend their best wishes to Father Larraona on this. happy occasion, and they ask Our Blessed Lady, during this Marian Year, to obtain for her faith-ful son an abundance of spiritual blessings. 113 The Pon :it:ic :e ot: Plus X Most ReverendJ. P. Leonard, S.J. .| F THERE IS ANYTHING that strikes us when studying Church | history it is the amazing fact that she has weathered the most fearful storms and survived attacks both from within and from without that should, normally have wrecked any institution, how-ever solidly egtablished. The secret lies in the'words of Our Blessed Lord to His apostles: "Behold, I am with you all days even until the consummation of the world . " With special cogency do these words of Christ apply to him whom He appointed head of the Apostolic College and invested with the supremacy of power, to Peter and his successors. "And the Lord si~id, 'Simon, Simon, be-hold Satan hath desired to have you that he may sift you as wheat: but I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not; and thou, being once converted, confirm thy brethren' " (Luke 22:31-32). The meaning is plain: as the Church rests on the Papacy as .on an unshakable rock bed, so the Papacy itself derives its security and its strength from Christ the cornerstone. The history of the Church is the history of the Papacy. It is the Papacy that ensures her well-being and expansion, that wards off the blows which are leveled against her; it is the Papacy that fos-ters and promotes her many works, that organizes and directs her mission of teaching, of guiding, of sanctifying the souls redeemed by the precious blood of her Founder. It is the Papacy that steers the 15ark of Peter over dangerous seas and through lurching reefs. We find this verified in the splendid succession of Pontiffs who occupied the Chair of Peter during the past hundred years and not least in Pius X, who was beatified June 3, 1951. Many of this holy Pontiff's activities are apt to appeal to us in a particular manner as they bear directly on the pastoral ministry. Not that his action was restricted to matters of internal organization and parochial duties. Like his illustrious predecessor and his no less illustrious succes-sors in the Chair of Peter, he had to tackle all .the intricate ques-tions of the day, ,keeping his hand on the pulse of ailing humanity so as to ~uggest suitable remedies for the many ills of mankind. ~Still it is true to say that his greatest care always turned to the direct in-terests of the Church and to the realization of the program which hc outlined at the beginning of his reign, and which "he crystallized 114 THE PONTIFICATE OF PlUS X in'the motto: lnsta{tre omnia in Christo (Eph. 1:10)--"to renew all things in Christ." I. HI~ SOCIAL MESSAGE AND DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS That Pius X, for all his-absorbing solicitude fo~ the internal organization of the Church and the spiritual improvement of the Christian communities, nevertheless kept in close touch with the so-cial,' economic, and political trends bf his time, we gather from his wise ordinances in the field of social action and from his relations with governments. 1. Social Action Aware of the important contribution which Pope Leo XIII had made towards the solution of the Social Question and in full sympa~ thy with the principles laid down in the encyclical Return novarurn, ~Pius X pledged the fullcooperation of the Church to the establish-ment of a healthy social order. In a motu proprio dated Dec. 18, 1"903, he drew up a list of nineteen propositions,, collected from various encyclicals of Leo XIII, in which he pointed out the chief pitfalls to be avoided and the safe course to be followed. He had sensed dangerous leanings towards socialism and was keenly alive to the prevalence of a growing spirit of independence and insubordi-nation to ecclesiastical authority. Soon after, he dissolved the ex-isting Catholic welfare and social-reform organization of Italy, the Opera dei Congressi, and substituted a new organization aiming at eliminating the causes of friction and at creating an atmosphere con-ducive to a healthy social action. His encyclical II ferr, o proposito (June 11, 1905) outlined a scheme of "Catholic Action~' which Plus XI wasito develop later on. W~hat he achieved for Italy, he also tried to effect for FranCe, where the Sillon (the F,urrow)--a social movement avowedly Catholic in aim--was rallying the support of the more enthusiastic and enterprising among the French Catholics. The movement, however, showed signs of drifting into dangerous innovations. Pope Plus X ordered it to be reorganized under episcopal control ~Aug. 25, 1910). In Germany, where the Catholic minority was still fighting for its rights, the guilds and ~/olkst~erein were organized on a strong sociological basis. But the Pope had to warn them against an ex-cessive independence (encyclical Singulari quadam, Sept. 24, 1912, on Catholic and mixed labor organizations in Germany). Social Relief--The kindness and charity of Pius X were a 1-15 J. P. LEONARD Reuiew for Religious byword in Rome and throughout the world. Not content with greatly encouraging charitable institutions and relief organization-s in aid .of the destitute, he set a noble example. So great were his charities that people wondered where his funds were coming from. His sympathy and support were always on the side of the weak and the .oppressed. Witness his outspoken condemnation of the harsh treatment meted out to the Indian labor in the rubber planta-tions of Peru (cf. the encyclical Lamentabili statu, June 7, 1912.). When in 1908 the town of Messina was almost entirely destroyed by an earthquake of extraordinary violence, the Pope organized a relief commission and placed the home of Santa Martha by St. Pe-ter's at the disposal of the refugees. Calabria, too, experienced his outgoing charity during the great earthquake that visited that prov-ince. Seven million francs were collected and spent in works'of re-lief and reconstruction. Nor was the Pope's solicitude confined to Italy. Public misfortunes everywhere found him ever ready to step in with a generous donation. 2. Diplomatic Relations Plus X was a lover of peace and he had nothing more at heart than to secure harmony and collaboration between Church and State. The principle that guided his policy in his relations with governments was clearly set forth in an address to Argentine pil-grims to Rome: true to God and to the Church, the Catholics were pledged to loyal allegiance to the civil authorities so long as the rights of God and the liberties of the Church were not compromised. "The Church," he said, "will always defend the constituted au-thorities, imposing love, obedience, respect and observance of the laws, helping the State to provide for the maintenance of peace." But in many countries the Church had fallen on evil days, and Plus X was hard put to it to maintain cordial relations. The spo-liation of the Papal States was still relatively recent, demanding an attitude of aloofness and protest against the Italian Government. Pius X followed the policy of his predecessors, while cautiously exploring all the avenues to a reconciliation. By opportune repre- " sentations and by exerting his personal influence he succeeded in pre-venting a divorce bill and other irreligious legislation from going through the Italian Parliament. In.,Fran.ce the religious situation was particularly difficult. In 1901 the Law of Associations against religious orders and congre-gations resulted in thousands of religious men and women being 116 May, 1954 THE PONTIFICATE OF PlUS X compelled to go into exile and closing thousands of institutions. In 1904 the famous Combes at one blow closed more than 14,000 congregational schools. In 1905 the concordat of 1901 was denounced by the French Government and diplomatic relations with the Holy See were sun-dered. A decree of separation of Church and State was passed and an aggressive campaign against the Church was launched (cf. the encyclical Vel~emer~ter, Feb. 11, 1906). The question of ecclesiastical property became a thorny one. The Government proposed the establishment of what was termed cult.ual associatior~s. Though some leading Catholics were decidedly of.the opinion that the scheme might be given a trial, the Pope in consultation with the French episcopacy rejected it as uncanonical (encyclical Graoissirao ot~icii, Aug. 10, 1906). It was a severe blow as it deprived the French clergy of all State help and made them de-pendent on Catholic charity alone. But it had the advantage of freeing the Church from all State domination. Said Mgr. Gauthey, Bishop of Nevers: "Pius X at the cost of sacrificing our property emancipated us from slavery. May he be forever blessed for not shrinking from imposing that sacrifice on us!" Pius took advan-tage of the newly won freedom to consecrate over a score of bishops, filling all the vacant sees without any .reference to the Government. _Nor was the Government x}ery happy over the results of its tyran-nical onslaught on the Church. The firm attitude of Pius X caused it 'such embarrassments that after a period of twenty st6rmy years it agreed to another, and canonical, settlement for the administration of Church property. Portugal fol!owed the pattern of France. In 1910 a revolution broke out and a republican government of a strongly anticlerical bias took over. As a result, the religious congregations were ex-pelled and their property confiscated. The c6ncordat of 1886 was repudiate.d and a decree in favor of separation of Church and State was enacted. In neighboring Spain, too, trouble was brewing. But Latin America, on the whole, remained loyally attached to the Holy See. On the other hand, the new Government of Turkey sent an am-bassador to the Vatican and shortly before the outbreak of World War I a concordat was signed with .Serbia. Pius X had not been trained in diplomacy. What guided his outlook and policy was a deep understanding of the Church's mis- Sion and the consideration of the primacy of the spiritual over the J.P. LEONARD temporal. His direct way of dealing with critical situations may not have appealed to those who favored more subtle and round-about methods of approach, but it was not less effective, while the simplicity and affability of his manner were singularly impressive and disarming. On the other hand, his firmness sprang from a deep-rooted conviction that if God permitted trials to befall His Church, it was with a view to her ultimate good and greater free-dom. While trustingly biding his time and God's chosen 'hour ,he gave his unstinted attention and care to other tasks of a more con-genial nature. II. ORGANIZATION AND LIFE OF THE CHURCH 1. Pope Pius X's name is associated with important ecclesiastical reforms. The Roman Curia--His first care was to reorganize his own household and to improve the administrative machinery at the cen-ter. His Curia had to deal with an overwhelming mass of ecclesiJ astical material. To dispose of it expeditiously is an herculean task. Pope Plus X set about overhauling the complicated organization, introducing administrative changes which experience has proved to be very wise and effective (constitution Saplentl consilio. June 29, 1908). According to the reformed system, the work is judiciously distributed among twelve Congregations, three Tribufials, and five Offices, each with its personnel and its appointed task. To give but one example, up to the reign of Plus X such coun-tries as England, Ireland, the United States, Canada, and Holland had been under the jurisdiction of the S. Congregation of Propa-ganda. The Pope placed them under the jurisdiction of the Consis-torial Congregation, thus restricting the territorial domain of Propaganda and relieving it of a considerable amount of work. Roman Commissions--As early as March 19, 1904, Plus X appointed a special Commission under Mgr. Gasparri, later Car-dinal, as secretary, to codify canon law--an urgent and most diffi-cult task already recommended by the Vatican Council (motu pro-prio Arduum sane munus, March 19, 1904). The Pope watched the prodress of this great work with the liveliest interest. But he did not live to see the pr?mtilgation of the new Code (in 1917). He also reorganized the Biblical Commission, set up a commis-sion for the revision and correction of the Vulgate text of the Bible, and in 1909 founded the Biblical Institute for Scriptural studies. Another commission was entrusted with the revision of the brevidry. 118 May, 1954 THE PONTIFICATE OF PIUS X New Ecclesiastical Units--Nor was the Pope less concerned with the progress of the Church at large. During his tenure of office, Plus X created twenty-eight new dioceses, sixteen vicariates apostolic, and. fifteen prefectures apostolic. 2. But above all he directed his attention to matters of ecclesi-astical discipline, to promoting the liturgical and devotiona~ life of the Church and to Christian doctrine. " Training of the Clergy- As I~ishop, his chief care had been de-voted to the formation of the cler~gy. No wonder that as P~ope the functioning of the seminaries became the object of his constant so-licitude. Small and inefficient semin,aries were suppressed. Where necessary, r,egional seminaries were established. A new order of studies based oh that of the Roman seminary was promulgated, and bishops were exhorted to spare no pains in seeing that the candidates to the priesthood were properly trained in learning, ~iety, obedience, and zeal. His exhortatioh to the clergy all over the world gives ex-pression to his inmost desires and tender solicitude in this direction. It was published on the occasion of the 50tI~ anniversary of his own priestly ordination (Aug. 4, 1908). Full of affection and wise counsel it concludes with the words: "Reform of the priesthood is the~best gift that can be offered Us on the occasion of Our own sacer-dotal jubilee." Care for the lntegrit'g of the Faith--The purity,of the faith Pope Plus X cherished like! the apple of his eye. Aware of certain dangerous tendencies that threatened the objective and immutable character, of the Catholic teaching, he ~¢as loud in his denunciation and drastic in his condemnation. In the decree Larnentabili (July 3, 1907) he singled out .sixty-seven propositions for ecclesiastical censure. This syllabus was followed shortly afterwards by the en-cyclical Pascendi (Sept. 8, 1907) in which he dealt with modern-istic innovations, and laid down wise rules as to how to combat these pernicious doctrines. Among the means he advocated, he in-sisted particuiarly on the censorship of books and the creation of a "Committee of Vigilance." Subsequently, by the motu proprio Sacrorurn Antistitum (1910), he prescribed the oath against Mod-ernism. ' Solicitude /:or the Divine Worship--Anxious to preserve pure and intact the sacred deposit of faith and the traditional teaching of the Ch~urch, Pope Plus X was no less concerned with the honor of the house of God and the splendor of the liturgy. He earnestly de-sired that the liturgical functions should be a worthy manifestation 119 J. P. I~EON_ARD Review for Religious of faith and devotion. Lex orandi lex ~redendi. To that end he insisted that Church music should be in keeping with the decorum and respect due to divine worship~. As a parish priest, as Bishop of Mantua, and as Patriarch of Venice he had shown himself an ardent promoter of the Gregorian chant and had befriended and patronized the distinguished ~omposer Lorenzo Perosi. As Pope he published the Motu proprio on sacred music (Nov. 22, 1903) stating the general guiding principles of the Church and drawing up clear regu-lations. , "Sacred music," he wrote, "should possess in the highes~ degree the qualities proper to the liturgy, or, more precisely, sanctity and purity of form from which its other character of universality spon-taneously springs. It must be hold/, and must, therefore, exclude all profanity, not only from itself, but also, from the manner in which it is presented by those who execute it. It must be true art, for otherwise it cannot exercise on the minds of~ the hearers that in-fluence which the Church contemplates when she welcomes into her liturgy the art of music. But it must also be unfioersaI, in the sense that, while every nation is permitted to admit into i~s ecclesiastical compositions those special forms which may be said to constitute its native music, still these forms mustbe subordinated in such a man-ner to the general characteristics of sacred music that no one of any nation may receive any impression other than good on hearing them." S~ecial emphasis was laid on congregational singing. Says Plus X: "Special efforts are to be made to restore the use of the Gre-gorian chant by the people, so that the faithful may again take a more active part in ecclesiastical offices, as was the case in ancient times" (Motu proprio, n,. 3). The Motu proprio also directs that a commission be appointed by the Ordinary to watch over all musical performances. This papal ordinance served a useful purpose. It not only clearly deter-" mined the character of genuine Church music, but it recalled to the attention of the Catholic world the dignity and beauty of the liturgical services and impressed the minds of the faithful with a proper sense of what was due to the majesty of God and the sacred-ness of, His Temple. Devo6on, to the Holy Eucharist~Pius X has been rightly called the Pope of the Holy Eucharist. To combat the lingering in-fluence of Jansenism, he recommended the reception of frequent and even daily Communion. He relaxed the Eucharistic fast in favor of the sick so that they might receive holy Communion twice a month. Marl, 1954 THE PONTIFICATE OF PlUS X or oftener, though unable to.keep the fast. By the decree Quam singulari, dated Aug. 8, 19'10, he ruled that children should be ad-mitted to First Communion shortly after they have attained the age of discretion. What untold blessings for the young accrued from this bold and salutary innovation it is difficult to say. It was of the nature of a minor revolution in the training of the young and laid ¯ them under an everlasting obligation to the loving kindness of the Sovereign Pdntiff. It was at the express desire of Pope Plus X that the Eucharistic Congress of 1905 (the sixteenth) was held in Rome--an event of unprecedented grandeur which set the pace for yet greater develop-ments. As a fitting sequel to that memorable function the Pope pub-lished in December of the same year the decree Sacra Tridentina Synodus advising daily Communion. Devotion to Our Lady--Equally earnest ~vere the Pope's efforts to promote devotion to Mary Immaculate. He extended the commemoration of Our Lady's apparition at, Lourdes to the whole Western world. In 1904 he caused the fiftieth anniversary of the proclamation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception to be cele-brated with unusual pomp and solemnity. On this occasion he published an encyclical (Ad diem illum), and a Marian Congress was held in Rome, culminating in the crowning of the image of Mary Immaculate in the choir of St. Peter's. Religious Instruction -- Intent on safeguarding the faith against the inroads of Modernism and on promoting piety among the faith-ful, Pius X realized--as no one better--that the best means of achieving his object lay in making the teaching and example of Our Lord better known and loved. Hence his great insistence on reli-. gious instruction. As a parish priest and bishop he had been most assiduous in instructing his people. As Pope he laid special stress on this obligation of the sacred ministry, setting the example by preaching a homily on the Gospel in one of the Vatican courtyards every Sunday. Catechism teaching received a fresh and vigorous impetus after the publication of the encyclical Acerbo nimis, on the teaching of Christian doctrine (April 15, 1905). In this document Pius X attributed the prevailing religious crisis to the widespread ignorance of divine truth and laid down strict regulations concerning the duty of catechizing. He enacted that (1) all parish priests, and, in gen-er, al, all those entrusted v~ith the care of souls, shall on every Sun-day and feastday throughout the year, without exception, give boys 121 J.P.,L~ONARD Reoie~ for Religious and girls an hour's instruction from the catechism on those things which everyon~ must believe and do in order to be saved; (2) at stated times during the year they shall prepare boys and girls by continued instruction, lasting several days, to receive the sacraments of penance and confirmation; (3) they shall likewise and with special care, on all the week day~ in L~nt, and if necessary on other days after the feast of Easter, prepare boys and girls by suitable in-struction and exhortation to make their First Communion in a holy manner; (4) in each and every parish, the society.commonly called "Confraternity of Christian Doctrine" shall., be canonic~lly erected: through this the parish priests, especially in places where there is a s.carcity of priests, vcill have lay helpers for the catecbetical i~struc-tion in pious persons who will devote themselves to the office of teaching. To give effect to this enactment Plus X bad a new cate-chism prepared for use in the Diocese of Rome and in its ecclesiastical province and expressed a desire that it should be adopted throughout Italy. Nor was he less emphatic in prescribing catechetical instruction to adults. We know that the ruling on the subject contained in canon law (cc. 1329-1336, particularly 1332, 1335) Was inserted by his special recommendation. Thus did he hope to oppose an effective remedy to what be deplored as the pernicious, source of the prevailing religious indifference and neglect of the Church's services. CONCLUSION ~,Ve have considered some of the activities of the saintly Pontiff. Summing up his reign, U. ]Senigni writes in the Catholic Encyclo-pedia: "In a few years Plus X has scored great, practical,-and lasting results in the interest of Catholic doctrine and discipline, ,and that in the face of great difficulties of all kinds. Even non-Catholics recognize his apostolic spirit, his strength of character, the precision of his decisions, and the pursuit of a clear explicit programme." (Cf. conclusion of article "Pius X.") ¯ Outward achievements of consequence are indeed a credit to a man, a proof of ability~, a monument to his name. But they do not tell the whole tale. Yv'hat is of greater importance is to probe~the inner spirit that lay back of the actions and prompted them. St. Ber-nard, ~riting to his former disciple Pope Eugene III, reminded him that outward works, however .holy~ and worthy they might be in themselves, were of no value unless they were inspired and sublim-ated by a pure intentiori and actuated by holy motives: they might 122 May. 1954 THE PONTIFICATE OF PlUS X even be fraught with danger inasmuch as by their m, ultiplicity and deadening pressure they were apt to choke and stifle the spirit, as too much wood heaped on a flame causes it to be smothered. In the case of Plus X, we know for certain, nothing of the kind wa, s to be feared: he never allowed himself to be diverted from his own great purpose and ideal: All for Christ! To restore all things in Christ ! There was more than this lofty singleness oi~ purpose, this un-swerving orientation of all his activity towards a cherished goal. All those who had the privilege of approaching him and dealing with him were deeply impressed by the character of holiness that radiated from him and was reflected in his manner, speech, and every action. Baron yon Pastor says of him: "He was one of those chosen few men whose personality is irresistible. Everyone was moved by his Simplicity and his angelic kindness. Yet it was something more that carried him into all hearts, and that 'something' is best defined by saying that all who were ever admitted to his presence had a deep conviction of being face to face with a saint--and the more one knows about him the strc~nger this conviction becomes." It was this conviction that led the Cardinals of the Roman Curia as far back as February 1923 to petition that the cause of his beati-fication and canonization be introduced, Their fond hope has be-come a glorious reality. Pope Plus X was solemnly beatified on June 3, 1'951--50,000 pilgrims crowding St. Peter's to venerate him and to invoke his blessing. But long before the authoritative decree was read out, the popular voice had anticipated the official pronouncement. People had not the slightest doubt about the re-sult of the process, more than 200 witnesses testifying to his heroic virtue. What they prayed for during the years that intervened be-tween his death and his glorification, what they desired with all the ardor of their hearts was that the day should not be too long de-layed, that they should live to see their hopes come true. During the Holy Year it was quite a usual sight to behold groups of pil-grims kneeling on the spot over the Pontiff's tomb and reciting the prayer for his beatification. Rome has spoken. The happy event has brought jubilation to millions of souls. We share the joy of our fellow Catholics all the world over. With them we acclaim the new Beatus and recommend ourselves to his powerful intercession. But let us do more. Let us take to heart the lesson of his saintly life. Let us impress upon ou,r minds and hearts the wise directions he addressed to the Catholic world during his fruitful Pontificate, 123 J.P. LEONARD par.ticulaily those that concern us more directly in regard to our per-sonal safictification and in regard to our pastoral duties. Let us im-plore him to obtain for us an ardent love for Christ Our Lord, an unflagging zeal for His dear interests, a sincere devotion to the Holy EuCharist and :o Mary Immaculate, and, last not least, a loyal at-tachment to the Vicar of Christ on earth, an active interest in the Church's welfare, a self-sacrificing gift of ourselves to souls in the exercise of our calling. Blessed Pius, p?ay for us. Amen. Blessed Pius X--Some Da'l'es 1835:Giuseppe Sarto born of poor parents at Riese, in the territory of Venice. 1858: Ordained a priest.--Parish ministry. 1875: Canon of Treviso, rector of the seminary. - 1884: Bishop of Mantua. 1893: Cardinal and Patriarch of Venice. 1903 : August 4, Elected Pope. Oct. 4, Encycl, E supremi: restoration of all things in Christ. Nov. 22, Motu proprio on Sacred Music. 1904: March 19, Commission for the codification of canon law. 1905: April 15, Encycl. Acerbo nimis: teaching of Christian Doctrine. 3une 1 !, Encycl. II fermo proposito: 'Catholic Action.' Dec. 20, Decree Sacra Tridentina &.lrmdus: daily Communion. 1907: Sept. 8, Epcyd. Pascendi: against Modernism. 1908: 3une 29, Constit. 8apienti consilio: reorganization of the Curia. Aug. 4, Exhortatio ad Clerum Catbolicum. Haerent anlmo. 1910: Aug. 8, Decree Quam sinqulari: Communion of children. 1911 :.Nov. 1, Constit. Dit~ino aOtcttu: new disposition of the psalter in the.,brevi-ary. 1913: Oct. 23, Motu proprio Abhinc duos annos: reform of the breviary. 1914: Aug. 20, Death of Plus X. ' 1951: June 3, Beatification. 1954: May 29, date scheduled for canonization. (Even this brief list of documents makes one realize how deep an influence Plus X has had on almost every aspect of the life of the Church.) OUR CONTRIBUTORS MOST REVEREND J. [3. LEONARD i:; Archbishop of Madurai, India. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Mary-land. JOSEPH P. FISHER is master of novices at St. Stanislaus Seminary, Floris-sant, Missouri. ADAM C. ELLIS and FRANCIS N. KORTH are members of our editorial board and professors of canon law at St. Mary's College, St. Mary's, Kansas. 124 Pray Reasonably Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ALL will agree that prayer is supremely,necessary in the religiou.s life; all will admit also that the necessity in modern times is an intensification, not a minimizing of prayer. The same agreement should extend to the principles t.hat the amount of pre-scribed prayer should not be. impracticable or even impossible, that it should harmonize and not conflict with work, that quality, quan-tity, and preference should be based on the purpose of the religious life, self-sanctification and the sanctification of others, and that pro-longed prescribed prayer does not necessarily produce a prayerful re-ligious. The following pages are ~n examinfition of the practicable amount and quality of prayer in lay religious congregations of ac-tive purpose. ~Attention is directed principally to the excess and ex-ternal defects of prayer. All will not agree with every opinion here expressed, but the purpose of the article will be attained if it leads to a more common recognition and practical study of a very im- 'portant problem) l, Hour o/: ddt~g. This should be such as to give sufficient sleep. It should not be so early that it is excessively difficult in itself and causes the burden of too long a day. An efficient hour of rising also depends on the climate. It is my opinion that the hour of rising for religious of active purpose in the United States should not be earlier than five-thirty. This applies also and especially to religious engaged in l~ospital and institutional work. Some now rise ~it five o'clock and even somewhat before five. The early hour is frequently caused by an unthinking tenacity to what~has been done in the past, to the equally unjustifiable principle of making the horarium exactly the same in all countries in which the institute has houses, and, I believe, especially and more commonly to the excessive number and duration of the religious exercises. The Holy See in its practice in approving constitutions has stated more than once that the religious exercises should not be multiplied excessively. Habitual physical exhaustion is not conducive to a life of pray-er. Some other pertinent facts that are worthy of practical reflec-tion under this same heading are: the lack of a weekly holiday and 1Please see our observation~ relative to "Adaptation and Pra}'er," p. 138.--ED. 125 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Retyieu~ [or Religiou~ of a summer vacation, excessive occupations during the Christmas and Easter vacations and during the summer, the burdening of days free of class with too many added spiritual duties, and overwork in general. 2. Mornin9 pra~ters. Neither the Code of Canon Law nor the prac-tice of the Holy See contains any prescription on morning prayers for religious. The constitutions of lay congregations usually en-join morning prayers in common. An enactment that all the mem-bers of the co.mmunity must be present in the chapel for vocal prayer five minutes before the beginning of meditation is reasonable and helpful. No objection can be made to the usual practice of saying these prayers in common. There would also be no imp.erfection in a practice of saying them privately. The excess in vocal prayer in many institutes begins with the morning prayers. I find it difficult to admit as reasonable any duration of these prayers beyond five minutes. This opinion seems to be evident with regard to those in-stitutes that prescribe the daily recitation in private and especially in choir of the'Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary or any equiva-lent amount of vocal prayer. Very many lay congregations are in this category. The repetition of the same prayers, for example, Our Fathers and Hail Marys repeated many times for various ahd, perhaps, almost endless intentions, is something that should be avoided as the matter of common vocal prayer. Such practices tend to make prayer monotonous, mechanical, and formalistic. An ex-ample of the lack of balance of vocal with mental prayer would be a usage of twenty or twenty-five minutes of ordinary morning prayers and a half-hour of meditation. I believe that the proper balance here would be five minutes of morning prayer and forty-five minutes of meditation and that no other meditation should be obligatory for that day. 3. Meditation. Here, unfortunately, is the greatest weakness in the prayer of very many individual religious and even of entire in-stitutes. Many do not in fact evaluate m~ntal prayer as the most important prayer for the gefieral and special purpose of the religiou~ life, personal sanctification and the sanctification of others. Canon 595 commands religious superiors to take care that their subjects make a daily meditation but it does not define the duration ~of the meditation. It may be argued that the practice of the Holy See as stated in 1901 favors an hour of meditation, half of which may be made in the afternoon. It' is also recognized that the Holy See con- 126 May, 1954 PRAY REASONABLY siders meditation as one of the most important daily exercises and that dispensations should be granted only very rarely and for very serious reasons. The Sacred Congregation of Religious now con-stantly approves constitutions that demand only a half-hour of meditation. A few congregations have an hour in the morning and a half-hour in the afternoon. I presume that most authorities would incline to a daily medi-tation of an hour. However, such practical facts as a seven-hour day in school, a twelve-hour day and perhaps a seven-day week in a hos-pital or institution, and the amount of prescribed vocal prayer can-not be ignor.ed. I believe that the practical and proportionate amount of mental prayer is forty-five minutes, unless the institute prescribes the Little Office or a similar amount of vocal prayer. In this case a, half-hour of meditation seems to be the only practical norm. A half-hour is the absolute minimum, and no other exer-cises, such as morning prayers, should be permitted to detract from this amount. This is not the time to adduce many arguments and authorities to prove the necessity and value of mental prayer for the religious life. It will suffice to quote the present Roman Pontiff. His words in the apostolic exhortation Menti Nostrae are concerned directly with priestly sanctity but they apply with even greater force t6 the religious life, since its .obligation is that of striving for complete evangelical perfection: "Hence We feel Ourselves under serious ob-ligation to exhort you, in a special manner to the practice of daily meditation, which the Code of Canon Law also recommends to all clerics. Just as by this daily meditation zeal for priestly perfection is strengthened and re-enkindled, so also from neglect of this p.rac-rice arises that disgust with spiritual things whereby piety grows cool and languishes, and whereby not only is each one's pursuit of sanctity broken off or slowed down, but the activities of the sacred ministry likewise suffer no small harm. Wherefore, in all truth We assert that the special efficacy attached to meditation cannot be sup-plied by any other means and, consequently, that nothing else can replace the practice of daily meditation." Meditation discloses another general defect in prayer. One of the difficulties in meditation is the insistence on a common book of pre-paration or points, which are read in common to all. This practice is only one manifestation of the false general principle that all prayer must be in common. The standard proof advanced is that Our Lord is present wherever two or three are gathered together in 127 JOSEPH F. GALLEN His name. It can be retorted that the soul of every individual in the state of grace is the temple of the Holy Ghost. The plan of prayer in any religious institute should leave sufficient time and opportunity for individual 'prayer, for the individual to follow the inspiration df the Holy Ghost, and for the satisfaction of individual desires in prayer. The same meditation book and the same spiritual reading book do ,not suit nor al3peal to all. The individual should be per-mitted here to ~hoose his own book. He shou!d also be permitted to make his spiritual reading and to say the rosary in private and at the times, he finds most convenient. The Holy See has approved con-stitutions that explicitly permit the individual preparation of the meditation and spiritual reading and the rosary in private. Another manifestation of excessive uniformity i'n, prayer is in the po~sition during meditation. In many lay congregations, if not practically all, it is the custom for all to sit down .always for the en-tire meditation, except for a few minutes at the end. This is a very practical means of attaining a sluggish meditation. The principle of evident common sense is that the individual should take the posi-tion that he finds most conducive to prayer at t~h$ moment. 4. Mass. No one will question that this is the supreme act of the day. The recollection of the sacred or great silence, morning pray-ers, and the meditation should have prepared the religious for Mass. It is to be presu.med that all know how to assist profitably at Mass and are conscious of the necessity and value of thanksgiving 'filter Communion. I do not think it necessary to delay on daily Mass and Communion but I am convinced that it is imperative to draw attention to the very universal cult of.thd "second Mass." Religious who have only a half-hour of morning meditation usually recite the Little Office for twenty or twenty-five minutes be[ fore Mass. At the end of the thanksgiving they will thus. have spent an average of an hour and forty or forty-five minutes in con-tinuous prayer while .still fasting. In~ a few institutes this time reaches two hours. Every principle of common sense says that this is enough prayer for the early morning. There should be no fer-vent stampede to the chapel or even outside the house for a second Mass. "But the Eucharist is the center of our lives!" Even with regard to the most h~ly things it is a clear postulate ~f God's law that our conduct should be reasonable. There has been enough prayer thus far; there will be too much prayer during the regt of the day. Now is the time for other things, especially for a reasonable, Ma~l, 1954 PRAY REASONABLY if brief, period of free time and of relaxation of body.and mind, for work and preparation for class. We can reverence the Eucharist reasonably by assisting at one Mass as perfectly as possible. It is at least interesting to note how many institu'~es allow only thirty or thirty-five minutes for the community .Mass inclusive of thanks-giving, and yet a second Mass in their chapels always commands a very large attendance. Why not give the proper time of forty ,or forty~five minutes to the community Mass? This custom of attendance at a ~econd Mass suggests at least to my mind similar practices and a very important and basic question. Some institutes have an astonishing number of novenas during the year. There is a pronounced susceptibility to anythin~ bearing the name of litany. The mention of sufficiently rare practices of devo-tion is not infrequent. No month or day that offers an opportun-ity for special devotions in common is passed over. Visits to the Blessed Sacrament are distinguished by prescribed xCocal prayers and frequently enough by the repetitign of the same vocal prayers. The market for extraordinary and even unreasonable practices ;of piety is notably wide. There should be some practices of devotion in the lives of all religious, but I think it is legitimate to a'sk v~hett~er prac-tices of devotio'n have not engrossed and smothered the s~iritual liv'es o~ too many, religious, whether devotionalism has not supplanted the prayer of sanctity, mental prayer. Have we too many pious and devout men arid women rather than saintly religious? many practices of piety but few really interior and deeply prayerful religious? long prayers but too little mortification? many hours in the chapel but relatively little desire for detachment and self-conquest? 5. Little O~ce of the Blessed Virgir~ Mar~. The recitation of the Little Office in choir or privately is not commanded by the Code 9f Canon Law nor by the practice of the Holy See in approving con-stitution~. There are lay congregations that recite no office; but the Little Office is more usually prescribed in such institute~. The Holy See in 1901 commended, generally speaking, the choral recitation of at least a part of'the Little Office to these congregations. Constitu-tions enjoining only the private recitation of the office are relatively few. The amount and extent of the choral recitation prescribed in other institutes is sufficiently varied. In'some congregations the whole o.ffice is recited daily in choir in all the houses; in others this same obligation extends only to the mother housh, while houses en-gaged in the external works of the institute recite the entire office in 129 ' , JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoieu) for Religious choir only on Sundays, holydays, and other vacation days; finally, some institutes demand that only a part of the office be recited daily in choir. The Little Office in lay congregations is a laudable approxima-tion to the public prayer of the Church. The widespread efforts to make the choral recitation more correct, prayerful, and edifying are equally praiseworthy. However, our present question is primarily the practicability of the prayer assigned in lay cbngregations. The choral recitation of the entire Little Office appears to take an hour and ten minutes. Considering the crowded and burdensome day of such institutes, I think this is entirely too much. In my judg-ment no more than a half-hour daily should be given to the choral recitation. Furthermore, if an institute imposes the Little Office in choir or privately, I do not believe that any other vocal prayers should be prescribed daily, especially in common, except the rosary and the vocal prayers of morning and evening visit. The quantity of religious exercises assigned to any period.of the day should not be overwhelming. We can accept as a maxim that a very good way of obtaining little prayer is to assign too much pray-er. For example, is it reasonable to impose the burden of a solid hour and a ball or two hours of spiritual duties in the afternoon and after a seven-hour day in class? Is it likely that the time ac-tually given to prayer will be proportionate to the time assigned to prayer? Does such a usage make reasonable allowance for'physical fatigue, necessary work, hospital or institutional schedules, prepa'- tion for class, and advance in knowledge? Religious should also be allowed the satisfaction of completion in prayer; they should not be subjected to the somewhat nagging tendency of having prayers constantly tacked on. Why should a long period of ordinary vocal prayers be added to the chorhl recita.- tion of the office? Why must several Our Fathers and Hail Marys, litanies, and acts of faith, hope, and charity be always tacked on to the office? , 6. Examen of conscience. Canons 592 and 125 oblige religious su-periors to take care that subjects make at least one daily examina-tion of conscience. The Code does not impose any determined method, frequency, or duration. Some congregations make the examen only once a day. The more usual frequency is twice, at noon and at night. The duration also varies, and five, seven, ten, and fifteen mintifes are found in constitutions approved by the Holy See. A general and particular examen twice daily of seven minutes 130 Mag, 1954 PRAY REASONABLY appears to me to be the reasonable and proportionate norm. Constitutions of lay congregations that prescribe the particular examen more commonly state that the particular examen is to be made at noon, the general at night. This has always seemed to me to be a strange practice. There is no doubt that the general examen may be separated from the particular and that the general may be confined to the evening, although the preferable practice for religious is to make both together. The strangeness is found in making the particular only at noon. Is it the intention to strive for the con-quest of a particular defect or the acquisition of a particular virtue for only half the day? If not, isn't it rather unnatural to examine oneself on this matter from noon to noon? 7. Spiritual reading. The Code of Canon Law contains no pre-scription on this matter, but the practice ~f the Holy See demands that an appropriate amount of time be given daily to spiritual reading. The varying times found in constitutions are thirty, twenty, and fifteen minutes. I believe that twenty minutes is the practical and proportionate amount. It can be reasonably suspected that the value of spiritual reading as an aid and remote preparation for mental prayer has not been too universally realized. The book and manner of reading should habitually be reflective and prayerful rather than merely informa-tional. The one book read in common for all, usually in the chapel, is the very common practice. I do not think that this practice is justi-fiable. As stated above, each professed religious should be permitted to choose his own book and to make the reading at the time that he individually finds most convenient. It is presumed that the book will be profitable and that the religious will follow any direction of competent authority. It is understandable that all should assemble for some of the religious exercises, for example, morning visit, medi-tation, examen, preparation for meditation, and night visit. Other-wise it can be reasonably feared that the faithful performance of these exercises will be too deficient. The religious necessarily as-semble for Mass and the choral recitation of the office. Not only the crowded and laborious day but also the fact that the religious should be trained in and given an opportunity to exercise individual re-sponsibility urge the conclusiqn that such duties as spiritual readil~g and the rosary should be in private and at the times chosen by the individual religious. 131 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reuietu for Religfo,,~ Some institutes have an exercise called lecture. This apparently means an assembly in which~ the superior reads a chapter or two of the constitutions or something from another spiritual book and gives any general corrections or makes any announcements that he or she thinks necessary or opportune. This exercise is usually prescribed almost daily or at least several times a week. I do not. see the ne-cessity or value of such an exercise in the crowded day of the reli-gious we are discussing. Private spiritual reading will be rfiore effi-cacious. If desired, the chapter of two of the constitutions could be read more practically in the refectory at one or two meals of each week. I find it difficult to conceive of a religious community so gen-erally errant that the superior must have the opportunity of giving a common correction sever, al times a week. Few announcements in a religious community are of such a private nature that they cannot be posted on a notice' board or, if private, cannot be communicated in other ways than by a special assembly. I see no reason why it should be necessary to give the superior such an opportunity more than twice a month at the very most. Some constitutions explicitly state the very reasonable interpre-tation that a,n unusual religious exercise, such as an instruction, conference, Benediction, Holy Hour, or chapter of faults, dispenses from the obligatory daily spiritual reading. 8. Rosary. Here also canons 592 and 125 apply and oblige supe-riors to take care that their subjects say the rosary daily. Five decades are sufficient. 9. Visits to the Blessed Sacrament and similar matters. The same canons oblige superiors to take care that their subjects visit the Bles-sed Sacrament daily. Visits that total fifteen minutes a day are cer-tainly sufficient as far as canon law is concerned, anh there is no doubt that the prescribed visits in lay congregations far exceed this amount. The obligatory visits in common should not be multipiied ex-cessively. I see no reason why these should not be confined to the mo~ning and night visits and to visits after each meal. The dura-tion should not be too prolonged. Five minutes should suffice for these visits. They should~not be put at a time that causes a conflict with or inconvenience to work. For exdmple, it is not reasonable to prescribe a visit at an hour when practically all the religious must be at work. Visits as found in lay congregations manifest the overemphasis 132 Ma~l, 19,54 PRAY REASONABLY on vocal prayer in common, particularly of the repetition of the same prayers. The usual repetition is that of Our Fathers and Hail Marys for a multiplicity of intentions. The obvio.us first recom-mendation is that the intentions for which such prayers are being offered should be most thoroughly examined. It is certain that some of these constit'ute the unreasonable perpetuation of the individual fervor of superiors of the past. The intentions should be restricted to those that can be classed as necessary or of unusual and common value. I see no reason why the prayers for most of these intentions should be in common. Why would it not suffice to post~or to read in the refectory once a month all the prescribed intentions and the prayers to be said by all privately for each intention? A notice could be similarly posted or read for any prayers for occasional spe-cial intentions. Prayer in common can be and is exaggerated in these institutes. We are to remember that God is the Heavenly Father of each one of us. A~ religious should be granted some time alone with his Father. Under this heading we must add the prin-ciple contained in many constitutions approved by the Holy See: no local superior should be allowed to add in any way to the pre-scribed religious exercises withoht the permission of"a higher~ supe-rior. This ,permission should be granted 6nly rarely, fqr an im-portant matter, and temporarily. A Holy Hour in common is imposed weekly in some institutes. Wouldn't it be more reasonable to confine this to the eve of First Friday? The months of March, May, June, October, and Novem-ber and the season of Lent ar. frequently the occasion of obligatory special devotions in common. The prudence of imposing common devotions during all of these times can be questioned. The duration of such devotions .should not ordinarily exceed five minutes. Pro-longed devotions of thi~ type can raise the prescribed daily religious exercises to a most formidable and even impossible total and can easily weary rather than strengthen the spirit of prayer. In institutes that do not have the Little Office the common, vocal prayers apparently intended as a substitute are sometimes excessive. I do not think that the time assigned for such prayers added to that given to meditation should total more than an hour and twenty minutes. The same general type of excess is verified in'the addition of a considerable amount 6f other vocal prayer to the Little Office. Private visits are to be encouraged, as is the Way of the Cross in private. Most of these visits should be very brief, but it is a good 133 o ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious practice to make one visit a day that is rather prolonged, i.e., aboiat ten 6r fifteen minutes. A religious who never makes a private visit has to be classed as quite deficient, but the emphasis on individual visits and time before the Blessed Sacrament can also be exaggerated. The encomium that a religious spends all his time before the Blessed Sacrament can be questioned. It is impossible in a laborious life. We have been implying thus far that the religious exercises cannot be prescribed without careful consideration of the long and heavy labors in the works of the institute. Another consideration is equally important. The day of the religious must permit proper ¯ prepaiation for class and other work and some time also for advance study in his field. It is a certain fact that this time is completely insufficient in practically all lay congregations. Especiall';- the higher fields of knowledge require protracted periods of study and cannot be mastered or prepared for class presentation by intellectual snacks of five minutes here and there. 10. Preparation for meditation. Eight minutes should suffice for this exercise. Individual preparation will also eliminate the dry serving of points at ten-minute intervals during the meditation. This practice h~s certainly contributed to the dehydrated and dessi-cated complexion of the mental prayer of many religious. 1 1. Silence, cloister, and l~orarium. In the religious life the sacred or ,great silence lasts from the time of a definite exercise in the evening until an appointed time in the morning. This silence demands that no one shall speak except for a serious reason and then as briefly as possible and in a low voice. The work of the institute is something of an obstacle to silence throughout the day, but as far as possible ordinary religious silence is to be observed during the day; i.e., in the house and outside of recreation religious talk only of what is necessary, useful, or demanded by courtesy. The purpose of reli-gious silence is a recollected and prayerful life. One of the purposes of cloister is to exclude unnecessary distractions and thus also to help to a life of recollection and prayer. Silence and cloister tend to recollection partially by effecting a quiet, calm, and peaceful,tenor of life. We canreasonably doubt that the horarium in lay congre-gations tends to the same effect. Isn't the daily life of many such religious a scurrying, headlong, excited, and feverish rush from duty to duty? The point I wish to make is that such a pace is an evident obstacle to a recollected and prayerful life. The excited religious is not a prayerful religious. I realize that there are difficulties, espe- 134 Mag, 1 ~ 5 4 PRAY REASONABLY cially that of overwork, in adjusting the horarium, but some ad-justment is possible. The horarium must be less minute, less insis-tent on everything in common; there must be more breaks, more free time, more attention to rest and less to keeping the religious busy; more easing of the tension; more emphasis on sincere interior prayer than on long prayers. 12. Chapter o1: faults. This is not mentioned in the Code of Canon Law nor is it of obligation from the practice of the Holy See. How-ever, the constitutions of lay congregations usually prescribe the chapter of faults. The norm of frequency stated by the Holy See in 1901 for congregations that had the chapter was that it should not be prescribed more frequently than once a week nor less than once a month. As actually found in constitutions, the greater number of institutes have it once a month, others every two weeks or weekly. A few institutes have the ch~ipter very rarely. In one congregation approved by the Holy See the chapter is held only four times a year. I believe that the proportionate frequency would be no more than once a month at the very most. In practice the chapter is an assembly in which the religious ac-cuse themselves of external violations of religious discipline. The superior assigns a penance after the accusation and in some institutes adds a counsel, admonition, or correction. The chapter is an exer~ cise that can readily become mechanical. It has been praised as very useful by some canonical authors, but I incline to an emphasis and insistence that the superior should be more of a spiritual guiding force for the community and the individual rather than an executive or a mere dispenser of permissions and that he shouId have the courage to give individual an~l private correction when this is neces-sary or advisable. 13. Annual retreat. Canon 5'95 commands religious superiors to take care that their subjects make an annual retreat. The Code does not determine the method, duration, nor manner, in common or in private, of the annual retreat. The duration ordinarily found in constitutions is eig]~t or six days. A very few institutes have a duration of seven or five days. Eight full days constitute the pref-erable duration. 'Many suggestions could be given for making retreats more profitable, but I wish to confine myself to a matter that is abso-, lutely fundamental. The basic reason why retreats to many reli-gious institutes are not producing a more marked profit is that very 135 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious few of their religious ever really make a retreat. The usual practice in' an Ignatian "retreat to religious in the United States is that, the director, in addition to a practical conference, gives the preparation for three meditations, but in inang institutes the retreatants make only one meditation and that o.nly for the time of their ordinary morning meditation. What an unreasonable~ .contradiction! The primary instrument of~a retreat is meditation, and yet almost no one will meditate! To give preparations for meditations that have no possibility Of existence! To be faced by so many religious who are completely unconscious of the fact that they should meditate! The meditation that tells the director all is that after breakfast on the first day, If, as soon as he has finished giving the preparation, he sees all the religious leaving swiftly with a sense of completion, he knows that it is the same old story, a retreat th'at is not a retreat, a retreat wihout the essence of a retreat, spiritual exercises dominated by.passivity. Isn't this very wide practice a clear indication that mental prayer has lost its rightful place in the life of many religious institutes? It is also a practice that should not be permitted to con-tinue, The retreatants should make each meditation for at least forty-five minutes and should spend ten minutes in reflection after each meditation.- Any other religious exercises of the communl,ty that c6nflict with the time or energy demanded by the retreat should be abbreviated or omitted. In a few institutes the director is asked, after giving the prepara-tion for the morning meditation the previous evening, to repeat this preparation or even to make the meditation with the community the next morning.' The reason often given fdr the request is that this is what is done during the year, the points for the morning rfieditation are read the night before and also in the morning before the meditation. It is very difficult to be patient with such a request. The memories of nb religious community are so generally de, ficient as to justify this' request, and it is to be held as a firm pres~mption of the law of the Church and a clear principle of common sense that mental prayer is within the power of all religious. 14. Montblg recollection. The constitutions almost universally ' prescribe a day of monthly recollection. This exercise'is not com-manded by canon law, but Pius XI earnestly urged the practice even to lay people to conserve the spiritual profit of the retreat and also as an,efficacious spiritual means in itself. Inasmuch as the day of recollection participates of the nature of a retreat, mental rather than 136, May, 1954 NEWS AND VIEWS vocal prayer should be favored in any added exercise. Many consti-tutions propose or emphasize this practice as a day of preparation for death. Since the aspect Of death is apt in fact to give the practice a completely negative character'of self-examination and. to minimize that of progress, I would have preferred its omission. 15. Tridua. Some congregations prescribe a triduum, in fact, a full three-day retreat, at the close of the year. The practice is in itself commendable, but I doubt that it permits the r.eligious to have the rest during the Christmas vacation that their strenuous a~hd over-burdened life demands. I prefer the practice in use in a few insti-tutes of a day of recollection, really a day of retreat, conducted by a priest on the last day of the year. Plus X (~ur article, "The Pontificate ot~ Pius X," is reprinted with per-mission from The Clergv Monthlv (August, 1951), a periodical edited by the 3esuit Fathers at St. Mary's Theological College, Kurseong, India, and published by the Catholic Press, Ranchi, B.N.Ry, India. The summary of dates following the article is also taken from The Cterg~l Montfilv. The author of the article, the Most Reverend 3. P. Leonard, S.,I., is now the Archbishop of Madurai. The article is reprinted with only a few very slight changes. It seems certain as we go to press that the Pope will proceed with the canonization of Blessed Pius X on ,May 29. Archbishop Leonard's article will make very appropriate reading for the occa-sion; and one more change--in a sense, not slight--will be in order: "'Saint Pius, pr,ay for us. Amen." Adaptation and'Prayer Some years ago (March, 1949) we published an article by Father d. Creusen, S.d., on "Adaptation." The article was pub-lished before the Congress on the States of Perfection iva~ held in Rome (September, 1950), but the general lines of the article were in perfect accord with the proceedings and conclusions of the Con- ~ress. We now have another excellent article on adaptation, based 137 NEWS AND VIEWS Review [or Religious on the proceedings of the Congress, that will be published in "our July number. , In our present number, Father Joseph Gallen, S.J., considers an aspect of adaptation that many religious will consider "touchy." Nevertheless, if prayer is to be what it should be in the li.ves of re-ligious, serious consideration must be given to the points raised by Father Gallen, especially to all customs that concern the saying of vocal prayers in dommon and to the multiplication of such prayers. As Father Gallen says, not everyone will agree with him on all his suggestions; but it seems to us that every thoughtful reader-- whether agreeing with him or not--must realize that he himself has given much thought to the problems. We would welcome frank discussions of the questions he raises and of the solutions he offers. Silver Jubilee Father Creusen's article on adaptation, referred to above, ap-peared originally in Revue des communautds religleuses, XVIII, 97. With Father 1~. Jombart, S.J., Father Creusen began the Revue des co~rnunautds religieuses in 1925. Publication was interrupted during most of World War II; hence Volume 25 was not completed till the end of 1953. On the occasion of this silver jubilee of publication, Father Creusen received a congratulatory letter from Monsignor Montini, the Pro-Secretary of State, who wrote in the name of the Holy Father. The Revue was praised for the high quality of its articles, for the utility of the articles and documents it publishes, and in general for its beneficial influence on religious and clergy. The Holy See's praise of the Revue has a special meaning for us because we are trying to do in the United States what Father Creusen and his associates have done and are doing among French-speaking religious. Eagerly we add our own small praise to the congratulations of the Holy See. Congress in Canada By decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious there will be a national congress of all the religious institutes of Canada, in Montreal, July 26-30. Tile Congress will be similar to that held at the University of Notre Dame in 1952. Rev. Joseph Rous-seau, O.M.I., Procurator General of the Oblates of Mary Immacu-late and Consultor to the Sacred Congregation of Religious, has been appointed General Secretary of the Congress and of its Execu-tive Council. Associate Secretaries are Rev. Andf~ Guay, O.M.I., 1138 , Mag, 1954 NEWS AND VIEWS Director of the Catholic Centre of the University of Ottawa, and Rev. Edward Sheridan, S.2., Prefect of Studies of the Jesuit Semi-nary in Toronto. In reality, four distinct congresses will be held: of French-speaking religious men, of French-speaking religious women, of English-speaking religious men, and of English-speaking religious women. Only the inaugural and concluding sessions will bring the four groups together. The Congress will be held at the Holy Cross College of S. Laurent and the adjoining women's colle, ge of Ste. Croix, in a northern suburb of Montreal. The spacious facilities of these two adjoining institutions, with their many classrooms and lecture halls and fine collegiate church, ~iIl provide ample accommodation for the sectional session halls, committee rooms, etc. The COngress will meet for four full days. On each of the four days, four short papers, each of some twenty minutes length, will be read in each section. The delegates willhave summaries of these papers by the opening of the Congress and a more complete and detailed development of each paper will appear in the Acta 8f the Congress. On the conclusion of the fourth paper, the section (of men or women, English-speaking or French-speaking) will break up into small committees to discuss the paper in greater detail and in its practical applications, according to prepared questionnaires and discussion topics which will be different for different committees. In the afternoon, the section will reunite for a general disc~ussion and for reports of each committee. A survey of the.findings, prob-lems, and solutions resulting from these committee sessions will be presented and will appear in the Acta. The sectional afternoon ses-sions will close with the formulation of resolutions, recommenda-tions, and petitions. A pilgrimage of all four sections to Montreal's famous St. Jo-seph's Shrine on Mount Royal, is planned for the evening of the last day of the Congress. Certain members of each institute will attend the Congress ex officio, namely, major superiors, masters and mistresses of novices, superiors of scholasticates. Others will attend as the appointed delegates of their institutes, in numbers proportionate to the num-bers of the institutes represented. It is expected that the Congress will unite a total of some fourteen hundred religious--eight hun- 139 NEWS AND VIEWS Review t~or Religious dred sisters and six huiadred priests and brothers--from all the in-stitutes of Canada. The program of papers, which is substantially the same for all sections, is: First day: (1) Tending to Perfection in Charity; (2) Religious Obedience; (3) Religious Poverty; (4) Perfect Chas-tity. Second Day: (1) Liturgical Prayer; (2) Prayer; (3) The Sacrament of Penance; (4). Religious Observance. Third day: (1) Judging a Vocation; (2) Methods of Recruiting; (3) The Personnel Required for Forming Religious; (4) Elements in the Formation of Young Religious. Fourth day: (1) Perfection in Charity and the Apostolate; (2) The Sanctifying Value~ of the Various Works of the Apostolate; (3) Diversity of the Apostolate and the Need for Collaboration; (4) Problems of the Apost61ate. Summer Sessions?. Marquette University will offer a course restricted to sisters on Marriage Guidance for Teachers. Among (;ther things, the course is designed to prepare the sisters (i) to present the matter of marriage in such a way as to enable the students to make a rational choice of vocation in life, and (2) to convey an attitude toward sex and mar-riage which will be a stabilizing factor in and out of marriage. Fa-ther Richard Arnold, S.J., will conducl~ the course. Marquette will also continue the courses in theology on the graduate level, de-signed especially for religious brothers and sisters. This graduate program leads to a degree of Master of Arts, with a major in the-ology. For further information write to:' The Director, Summer Session, Marquette University, Milwaukee 3, Wisconsin. Between June 14 and August '3 each Sunday afternoon a con-ference will be given by members of the Creighton University Sum-mer S,chool Staff on the religious virtues. Sister Mary Digna, O.S.B., w'ill conduct a week-end institute on the scientific factor in selecting candidates for religious life. Dr. Leo Kennedy will conduct an in-stitute on guidance and vocational counseling. Sister M. Casimir, O.P., is arranging an institute on music for the schools. Dr. Robert Nossen is director of the institute on the teaching of high school English. Sister M. Muriel, S.H.M., will teach courses in remedial reading and will likewise direct an institute in. that field. Another workshoi9 wll be "conducted in story-telling, book selection, and extra-curricular reading for elementary school children. Nine gradu-ate or under-graduate credits may be earned during the eight-week session. Rev. Francis Korth, S.J., will have a 3-hour course on 140 Mag, 1954 NEWS AND VIEWS moral guidance, and Rev. Leo Cbressel, S.d., will continue his theo-logical cycle course with "special questions in dogmatic theology." Rev. Vincent L. Decker, S.d., will teach fundamental theology, and Rev. Philip Derrig, S.J., will teach Christian iworship. Please direct inquirie~ and requests for Summer School catalogues to: Dean Wil-liam F. Kelley, S.3., Director of the Summer Session, Creighton Universit~r, Omaha 2, Nebraska. The-Rev. duniper Carol, O.F.M., formerpresident of the Ma-riological Society of America and now its secret~iry, will offer a series of lectures in Mari01ogy at St. Bonaventure University, Olean, N. Y., tl~is summer. The course will begin duly 3 and con-tinue through the first week in August. Father Carol is a well-l~ nown Franciscan theologian of Our Blessed Lady in the United States. He has written many amcles and books on Marian docmne, especially the doctrine of Our Lady as Co-Redemptrix. Other courses this summer include dogma, moral, church history, canon law for religious, and catechetics. The course at St. Bonaventure leads to a Master's degree or a certificate in theology. Ins÷itu~e of Spldtuali~y 849 sisters, representing 159 religious communities, attended .the Institute of Spirituality at the University of Notre Dame last summer. This institute, which is for superiors and mistresses of novices, will be given at Notre Dame again this summer, August 4-10. , The morning-lectures Will be given b.y the Reverend Paul Philippe, O.P.; the Reverend Gerald Kelly, S.J.; and the R~verend Charles Corcoran, C.S.C. Father Philippe's lectures are entitled, "The Role of the Holy Spirit in Counseling'i'; Fa,ther Kelly's, "Psychologichl Problems in Religious Life"; and Father Corcoran's, "The Vow of Obedience," The evening lectures will be given by the Reverend A.PI~,O.P.; the Reverend Albert J. Riesner, C.SS.R.; and the Reverend Gabriel Diefenbach, O.F.M.Cap. Father Pl~'s lectures are entitled, "The Adaptation of the Religious Life to Actual Conditions"; Father Riesner's, "Canon Law for Religious--The Vow of Poverty"; and Father Diefenbach's, "The Life of Prayer." ~ "This important institute is'one of the tangible effects of the Congress of Religious, held at Notre Dame in 1951. For further information write to: The Reverend A. Leonard Collins, C.S.C., Department of Religion, University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, Indiana. 141 N :ure Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. IHAVE OFTEN wondered just how satisfactory an understand-ing of the relation between nature and grace most religious-- especially those untrained in theology~have. They certainly .have been impressed by the role of grace in the economy of salva-tion. In their reading and meditating they must often have con-sidered those clear words of Christ, "Without Me you can do nothing." They know that grace "is absolutely necessary for sal-vation, necessary for any advance in the spiritual life, necessary even for a start in it. Grace stands, therefore, before their eyes as all-important and so it should. Their knowledge of grace as far as it goes is, accordingly, quite accurate. But I wonder about their understanding of nature. While they have been reading and meditating on the marvels of divine grace, they have also, quite likely, been forming some notions about na-ture. And, of course, nature regarded as a competitor or adversary of grace is put in its place--and a very low and despicable place it is. Without distinctions being made, or at least clearly made, nature-- often used in ~i rather vague sense--is made to look very bad. 'Very many books on the spiritual life have remarks about nature that can well be typified by this statement in the Follgtoing of Christ: "'Wherefore, as nature is the more kept down and subdued, with so much greater abundance is grac.e infused" (Bk. III, Ch. 54). It is true that fi Kempis himself has the correct distinction in mind (the whole of Ch. 54 implies the distinction and there is an explicit statement in Cb. 55) but the force of an unmodified word has strange power. It is all very simple if we understand all the oppro-brium heaped on nature as being piled on corrupt, unregenerated na-ture, inasmuch as it is the source of the inordinate in human life. St. Paul says some hard things about nature, but anyone who wants to understand the sense in which he uses the word can check his meaning as set forth in Fernand Prat, The Theologg of St. Paul, Vol. II, pp. 61-62. It comes to this, that because of original sin there is left in all men a strong inc\ lination to e~;il. Understood, therefore, as the source of sin, nature can be despised and set at naught as much as one likes, but there is mucl~ good in nature which must be respected. 142 Ma~t, 1954 NATURE AND GRACE It may come as a surprise to some that it is a defined truth that by the light of the natural intellect man can know considerable truth about God and, it follows, much truth about many things: "If anyone shall say that the one true God, our Creator and Lord, cannot be certainly known by the natural light of human reason ~hrough created things, let him be anathema" (Vatican Council, Sess. III, de revel., can. 1). And it is certain that by the strerigtb of the natural will man can do considerable .good--not, however, salutary as far as supernatural salvation is concerned. It is no doubt because of these truths that the Baltimore Catechism has introduced the following change into the new edition: "The chief punishments of Adam which we inherit through original sin are: death, suffering, ignorance, and a strong inclination to sin." And the explanation of the last item runs thus: "Although we have a strong inclination to evil as a result of original sin, our nature is not evil in itself: it can perform some good actions in the natural order without the aid of grace." The old catechism had this: "Our nature was corrupted by" the sin of our first parents, which darkened our understanding, weakened our will, and left in us a strong inclination to evil." All this brings out the point that when one says "nature is bad, is to be repressed," one has to know what one means by "nature." God has never disowned, rejected the good in human nature as the Protestants would have it that He did. What, then, does it mean, "Without me you can do nothing"? It means we can do nothing of use to salvation without grace. That, of course, says a lot but it would be worse than a mistake to under-stand it in such a way as to deny the truths stated above. Actions speak louder than words. A~cordingly the example of the saints acts strongly to form a man's spiritual outlook. In the matter with which we are dealing, lives of the saints have had their effects. Many a person untrained in theology has come to the con-viction that the lives of many saints are a living proof of the state-ment that "as nature is the more kept down and subdued, with so much greater abundance is grace infused." And it is true that the saints have often, at least according to the accounts of their lives, disdained nature and its needs and, apparently, were the better for it. Many ate extremely little, slept hardly at all, undertook severe austerities, and yet carried on their work in a remarkable way. It is. certain that if an ordinary individual would do what the saints have d6ne in despite of nature in the ordinary providence of God he would pay the price. There is, therefore, a distinction that must be 143 JOSEPH P. FISHER Reuieu.~ for Religious brought in here. Ordinarily God does' not work miracles to make up for the rashness and mistakes of men. True it is that in His ex-. traordinary providence God takes care of His holy ones, and that is one reason why we say God is wonderful in His saints. A clear example of What could happen, and has happened, if the idea expressed above (that the more nature--even that which is good in nature--is contradicted and thwarted the higher grace rises) would be carried to its logical conclusion is this: the absolute cessation of all spiritual progress--at least for the time-~by insan-ity. That is a terrible thing to think of, but it is true. Whatever one thinks about the relationship of nature and grace, one cannot get around this hard fact: not a few human beings have come to the end of their growth in grace because the natural faculties of mind and will have ceased their natural functions and hence grace--which do~s no"t operate in a void '" is at a standstill. There are, of course, less extreme results brought about by a neglect of nature and We shall instance some of these later. For the time being it is enougl~ to make clear that God does not always--to say the least--work a miracle to stop or rectify the results of a man's imprudence in handling nature. God can if He so chooses suspend the effects of nature's physidal laws, but we do not ordinarily count on that. So far we have been rather negative in what we have said. What can be said positively of nature's position in regard to grace? At the outset it has to be remarked that anyone treating of the relation-ship between' nature and grace has to be careful not to fall into the errors of Pelagianism or semi-Pelagianism. In order to make clear, ,before we proceed further, the teaching of the Church i~n the mat-ter we shall summarize what has to be said. First of all, mere nature, that is, nature without the aid of grace, cannot, in strict justice, merit initial grace (.the first grace a man re] ceives on the way to sanctifying grace) nor, consequently, any of the series of subsequent graces that lead to sanctifying" grace. More-over, there is no naturally good work' by which unaided nature could acquire even so much as an equitable claim --- one not "in strict justice but as a matter of fitness or equity--to supernatural grace. Nor can nature merit supernatural grace even by natural prayer, that is, merely human prayer without the aid of God's grace. And beyond all this a man cannot move God to the bestowal of super-natural grace by any positive disposition or preparation on his part. A man, for example, might prepare wet wood for burning by soaking' it in kerosene, but there is no such positive preparation by 144 May, 1954 NATURE AND GRACE which a man can prepare nature and make a claim on God for grace. Finally, the only thing a man can do to dispose nature for grace is to prepare himself negatively by not putting any obstacles' in the way or by removing obstacles that are present. ' In the example of the wood used above it would be similar to drying the wood and hence removing the wetness that would prevent the wood from burning. It is to be noted in t~is last case that by this negative disposi-tion a man does not cause--in the strict sense--God to give him grace, but if God so wishes He freely gives it. The freedom of God in giving grace must be preserved. By reason of this freedom in the disposal of grace God can choose and often has chosen the ignorant to confound the wise and the weak to shame the strong. The power of His grace stands out the more in such instances. And yet in His ordinary providence He seems to respect nature; not that He has to, but it seems from the facts that He does. God has never rejected the good in nature. " For this reason theologians have always taught that grace does not destroy nature but builds on it, elevates it. God loves His creation and even after man sinned there was still much in the work of His hands that He loved. It is time, then, to consider some of the ways in which grace builds on nature. In the first place, does it make any difference in the spiritual life what kind of mind a man has and how he uses it? It definitely does. God can make the very stones cry out or can speak-through a jackass--as He once dld-~but ordinarily He uses instruments according to their natural capacity. Wrong thinking in the spiritual life, wrong direction, has led to harmful consequences. Hence the importance of having accurate knowledge on spiritual matters. In the second place, does strength of will make any difference in the spiritual life? Does it help to know the true psychology of the will.; how~ to bring it to action? Admittedly God could take a weak-willed man and by His grace suddenly make him strong. But again God ordinarily works according to a man's nature. Poor use of will has held back many in spiritual progress. It is imperative, then, that those ,striving for spiritual advancement know at least the chief elements in the psychology 9f the will. And, thirdly, does the spiritual life depend in any way on a person's physical health, health of organs and nerve~s? Again God could set physical health aside as He has done in the case. of many saints. But saints are saints, and while we may admire them we cannot and ought not imitate their extraordinary conduct unless 145 JOSEPH P. FISHER Reoieto [or Religious God clearly calls us that way. The health of ordinary,mortals often has more to do with what goes,in their spiritual lives than they think it has. Everybody knows how St. Theresa and St. Ig-natius insisted on this fact. There is a story which may serve to il-lustrate this truth rather vividly. It was published some year~ ago in the Reader's Digest and goes something like this. A certain man of considerable means had suffered huge losses in the great de-pression of 1929. Worry over his critical financial condition, over what the future might bring, and over 'what people might think, naturally reacted on his health. He became more and more sleep-less, lost his appetite, grew more and more nervous, and felt as if a complete physical collapse was imminent. In this crisis he thought of what many others had thought of as a way 6ut--suicide. But for the sake of his family and his own good name he did not want to make a crude job of it; go he decided to consult a psychiatrist on the best way to achieve his purpose with the least notice and oppr6- brium. When he gave his stor~ to the psychiatrist, the wise man sympa-thized with him, thought the matter over, and suggested this method of carrying out his intention. The patient was over middle age, fat, in poor condition, and no doubt not very far from a heart attack. So all he would have to do would be to eat a good supper, then go for a little walk, after a while start running, and then be-cause of his poor condition his heart would give out and people would say that he had had a heart attack. This plan sounded very fine to the patient and he resolved to try it. So that night he did as the doctor had told him. But when he started running, nothing happened, and so he kept running and puffing. Growing tired, he stopped and after some time returned home tired and sleepy. He went to bed rather early and slept like a baby. When he got up in the morning he was a little stiff but felt rather well. But he was resolved to try a little harder that evening. And so he did. He walked farther and ran harder and puffed even more. Again nothing happened. So he returned home and slept even better and ate voraciously in the morning and felt dangerously well. But he was still resolved to carry out his purpose. So he repeated the per-formance the next night, exerting himself even more,' but again nothing happened. He went to bed and again slept marvelously well. He arose in the morning and ate heartily and had a strange sense of well-being. He felt he could meet and conquer all his prob-lems. He was even eager to get at them. 146 May, 1954 NATURE AND GRACE This story, aside from the fact that it concerns an attempted suicide and has the psychiatrist pretending to condone the attempt, allows for a wholesome application because it shows how ill health may create a spiritual problem and good health may solve it. Not infrequently religious are impeded in their spiritual lives by tired-ness, headaches, nerves, and such .complaints. No doubt like'all "creatures" of God these distresses can be used to help one in the spiritual life, but they must be handled by the great virtue of pru-dence. Our Lord told us to be as wise as serpents and as simple as doves. With the help of our spiritual guides, we must learn when such things advance us and when they impede us in the great work we are doing. And we must come to some decision as to how we are to conduct ourselves in their regard. Finally, there is the question of the natural virtues. It will be sufficient for our purpose to indicate in general their importance in regard to the accompanying virtues. Without the accompanying natural habit the infused, supernatural virtue is left, so to speak, in the air. The natural virtue gives the infused virtue facility and solidity. A person, for example, who has the infused virtue of for-titude m. ay in practice act very cowardly. It is only/ when he has acquired the habit of acting bravely that the supernatural virtue will function as it should. And so with all other virtues. That is why Father Hull in his little book, The Formation of Character, says that "all virtues, even the supernatural ones, are radically and .functionally natural ones . " It may be well to add that religious ought not to fear to develop and use to the utmost the natural talents God has given them. All too often the words of Our Lord apply to religious: "The children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light" (Lk. 16:8). Certainly the wicked make the utmost use of the gifts they have to further their evil ends. Shall those who pro-fess to fight God's cause allow to lie dormant the precious powers .God has entrusted to them? Every religious should occasionally meditate on Our Lord's parable of the talents. If we have been ¯ given even only one, we are expected to wbrk with it and show proper increase. A good way of acting would be that suggested in the saying attributed to St. Ignatius: Work as, if all depends on you; pray as if all depends on God. The use of nature to the advantage of the supernatural in the various ways suggested above should not surprise us who realize that ,our God has lifted even matter to be an ally of grace. In our sac- 147 JOSEPH P. FISHER ramental' system, Water, bread and wine, and oil are wondrously dignified by the part they play in the bestowal of grace on men. And even apart from the sacraments it is rather amazing how the Creator has mysteriously decreed not only that "for the most part men be saved by men" but that often even material things have an important part in a man's salvation or damnation. The speed of a car, the presence of blood plasma, the right drug. at hand may give the time. required to baptize or absolve a soul in need. Even if it is not explicitly said, it is sometimes implied, that any kind of trust in nature will lead to an.attitude of self-sufficiency and pride. There. is no good reason why this should be so. Is 'not ,God the Creator of nature as well as the Author of grace? Are not His natural gifts gifts? Can we not say in regard to the goods of nature which God has bestowed on us what the Blessed Virgin said in the Magnificat: "He who is mighty has done great things for me and holy is his name." Surely a man must crush the inordinate in nature but he should be careful lest in doing so he also spoil what is good.- Since God took upon Himself our nature there has been a truly wonderful union between nature and grace. And God wishes us to respect and cherish this union. May we not elevate the thought of the poet Coleridge and apply his words to our matter: He pra~etb best, tvbo lovetb best All the'rigs both great and small; For the dear God who lovetb us, He made and lovetb all. (Rime of the Ancient Mariner 11. 614-617)., NEW RI:VIEW OF SPIRITUALITY Cbristus is tb~ title of a new review of spirituality directed by the French Fa-thers of the Society of Jisus. The first number is entirely devoted to "Christ Our Lord"--with a number of articles that are ~emarkable for'their doctrine, historical information, and modernity. The purpose of the review is not to promote the spirituality of a "school," but rather to perform a service for consecrated souls, re-gardless of the spiritual family to which they belong, by opening up a source of spirituality which our present Holy Father called one of the most efficacious for the spiritual regeneration of the world. The price of this new quarterly is 700 ft. per year in France; 900 ft. for foreign subscribers. Address: Christus, 15, rue Monsieur, Paris (7e)~ France. 148 New I:::dit:ion of :he Li :t:le Ot:t:ice Adam C. Ellis, S.J. THE Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary was long a favorite devotion of pious layfolk, especially in England, where there were two versions of "Mary's Hours" current as far back as the eleventh century. Today many of the laity use the Little Office as their daily prayer in honor of Mary. It is part of the rule for Dominican, Carmelite, and Augustinian Tertiaries, and Franciscan Tertiaries are exhorted, though not obliged, to say it. Many mem-ber~ of the various Sodalities of Our Lady recite the Little Office daily as a matter of devotion. This office is called "Little" to distinguish it from the "Great" or Divine Office, which is recited daily by all clerics in major orders, by many religious orders of men, and by most communities of cloistered nuns. Many religious conoregations of sisters and broth-ers established during the nineteenth century and later have adopted the Little Office as their special" form of common prayer and recite it daily in whole or in part (for instance, Vespers and Compline), .or at least on Sundays and holydays. Some who are prevented by the nature of their work from assembling together at a fixed time recite the Little Office privately. A" feature article in L'Osseroatore Romano for March 17 an-nounced the publication of a new edition in Latin and German of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Fortunately, we have at hand a copy "of this new version; and it seems to us that our readers might welcome some information about it. Papal Approval of New Texf The text of the new edition of the Little Office announced in L'Osseruatore Romano was prepared by Father Augustine Bea, S.J., professor at the Pontifical Biblical Institute (of which he was rector for many years) and a Consultor of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. The work was done at the request of the Teaching Sisters of the Holy Cross, a congregation of Franciscan Sisters whose mother house is,located, at Menzingen, Switzerland. It was to the mother general of these Sisters that Pope Plus XII wrote the following let-ter, which approves the new Little Office and which is printed as an introduction to the text: 149 ADAM C. ELLIS To Our beloved daughter in Christ, greetings and Apostolic Bene-diction. ,The fervent devotion of the faithful to Mary, the Most Blessed Mother of God, besides many other exercises of piety, has also in-cluded for many centuries, that practice by which the same Mother of God is especially honored, namely the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This pious practice has increased in recent times, since in man~ religious congregatons of brothers and sisters its daily recitation is already prescribed by the constitutions, a prescription which indeed is worthy of the highest, praise. And so it happens. that souls dedicated to God daily propose to themselves for imita-tion the glorious virtues of the same Blessed Virgin, especially her inviolable purity and unimpaired virginity; and by this pious dailg homage they secure for themselves more efficaciously Mary's moth-erIy care and most powerful protection. Furthermore, this same recitation of the Marian Office unites them closely with the liturgical life of the Church and with the Divine'Office of the priests. Especially now in our days this love of the sacred liturgy, re-markably increased through the inspiriztion of the Holy Spirit, has also aroused a stronger desire in not a feu~ of those who daily recite these Marian prayers that they be even more closet~t connected uJith the Church's solemnities and feasts than is possible with the form of the Little Office which has been found in the Roman Breviary since the time of Our Predecessor, St. Pius V. Therefore, with special pleasure, We have learned that while you and your sisters have faith-fully desired to preserve the old and praiseworthy custom of reciting the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, yet at the same time you cherish the pious wish to have a fuller participation in the liturgical life of the Church, and that you have therefore carefully seen to it that a somewhat expanded edition of the Little Office be prepared, which is adapted more closely to the times and feasts of the liturgical year. Since We have a certain hope that this your holy fidelity to the centuries-old tradition of religious congregations will bring about for you from day to day the greater favor and blessing of the Mother of God, and also that your love for the sacred liturgy will produce in you new and precious fruits of the spiritual life, We gladly permit you, and other congregations who may so desire, to use this new edition of the Little Office of Mary in your daily reci: tation. May the Apostolic Blessing which We impart to you gladly in 150 May, 1954 LITTLE OFFICE Our Lord, dear daughter, and to all the members of ~lour congrega-tion, be a tohen of Our paternal beneoolence. Giuen at Rome, at St. Peter's, March 12. 1953, in the fifteenth ~/ear of Our Pontificate. POPE PIUS XII Use of the New Text This approval of the Holy Father grants members of religious congregations of brothers and sisters who are now reciting the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin by reason of their constitutions or by custom the permission to substitute this new Latin text for the old text approved by Pope Saint Plus V for the entire Church and which is printed in the back of the Roman Breviary. The firm of Marietti, Via Legnano 23, Turin, Italy, issued the first printing of the new text in a combined Latin-German text in December, 1953, and has the sole right of publication. According to the article which appeared in L'Osseruatore, a Latin text by it-self was then in press, and should be available by now. Transla-tions into English, French, and Italian will follow shortly, from the same press. (The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, is the agent for Marietti in this country.) Use in the Vernacular The Holy Father approved both the Latin text and the accom-panying German text for the Sisters of the Holy Cross of Men-zingen. They evidently have been reciting the Little Office in Ger-man with special permission. May other religious congregations use any one of the translations to be issued by Marietti without further permission? Some distinctions must be made: (1) As was stated above, any religious congregation now reciting the Little Office in Latin, may at once make use of tl~e new Latin version without ~r-tber permission. (2) Any religious congregation now reciting the Little Office in the vernacular with proper permission, may at once make use of the new text in the vernacular as published by Mari-etti; any other translation of the new Latin text must have the ap-proval of their own local ordinary before it may be used. (3) Any religious congregation now reciting the Little Office in Latin by reason of a prescription of its constitutions, may not change from Latin to the vernacular without permission from the proper au-th6rity: (a) the local Ordinary in the case of a diocesan congrega-tion, since he has the power t~ change their constitutions; (b) tile 151 t ADAM C. ELLIS Sacred Congregation of Religious in the case of a pontifical congre-gation, since only the Holy See can change constitutionk approved by it. This permission should be bequested by a general chapter. " Special Features The new edition of the Little Of}ice of the Blessed Virgin has the following, characteristics: 1. For the Latin text of the psalms it follows theVatican Psalter, a new translation of the Book of Psalms prepared at the Biblical Institute, made prir~cipally from the Hebrew Masoretic text, and approved for optional use in his Motu Proprio In cotidianis precibus by Pope Plus XII, on March 21, 1945. For the German text the psalms are taken from Deutscber Psalter, edited by Romano Guardini, with the permission of the publishers, "K6sel-Verlag." 2. The text is arranged for and adapted to six exact liturgical seasons of the ecclesiastical year: Advent, ChriStmas, Lent, Passion-tide, Eastertide, and the time after Pentecost, with special lessons for each season. 3. The new text has the special antiphons (for the Magnificat and Berledictus) and the proper orations for the more prominent general feasts of the year: Circumcision, Epiphany, St. Joseph, As-cension, Pentecost, Corpus Christi, Sacred Heart, Sts. Peter and Paul, and All Saints; also for the Commemoration of All Souls; likewise for many particular feasts of Our Lady: Immaculate Con-ception; Purification, Annunci'ation, Visitation, Assumption,, Im-maculate Heart, Nativity of "Our Lady, Holy Name of Mary, Seven Sorrows (both feasts), Holy Rosary, Maternity, and Presentation. 4. During Advent the special "O" antiphons are used at Ves-pers on the eight days preceding the vigil of Christmas. For the last three days of Holy Week the Office is conformed to the rubrics, and the Christus factus est :is added to each hour. Conclusion ~ Religious communities of sisters and brothers ~vho have been reciting the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mar~ in common by direction of their constitt(tions or by custom will welcome this new edition of the text, brought up to date to conform wih the spirit of the modern litu[gical movement, and approved for them by ,Our , Holy Father. 152 /V ore abou!: Secular Ins!:i!:ut:es Francis N. Korth, S.J. DIRECTORS of souls and others who come in contact with possible vocations will be interested in some information about secular institutes that are actually existing in the United States and Canada and about other groups that have hopes of be-coming secular institutes at some later date if everything works out all right. It happens at times that a religious is approached by a boy or girl who seems to have a clear call to a special practic~ of the evangelical counsels while remaining in the world; it seems to be a vocation to the life led by ~embers of secular institutes. Unfortu-nately little information of practical use has been published for helping such prospective vocations make the necessary contact with individuals who would be in a bett~r position to advise them. The present article is intended to obviate this difficulty to some extent. To this end some items about a number of groups that either are secular institutes or are on the way to possibly developing into secu-lar institutes will be given. It is understandable that in such a highly specialized vocation great care must be taken in admitting candidates; a certain amount ot~ lack of publicity could be a safe-guard. On the other hand, it also seems desirable to have some in-formation about existing groups made available among those who could be of help to candidates having a true vocation to that'type of life. Existing Secular Institutes" Among the few secular institutes existing in the United States ¯ (as far as is known), the first to be mentioned is the pioneer in this country, the Opus Dei. Opus Dei (whose full title is: Sacerdotal Society of the Holy Cross and Opus Dei) was founded in Madrid, Spain, on October 2, 1928, by Monsignor Jos~ Maria Escrivfi 'de Balaguer. Its members make som~ studies in philosophy and, the-ology; some'later go on to the priesthood. A women's branch of Opus Dei (distinct from that of the men) was begun in 1930; this is a completely separate secular institute. For the most part the gov-ernment is in the hinds of the lay members; priest members act inca spiritual kapacity, though some high offices usually are held by priests. The purpose of Opus Dei is to enable its members, while 153 FRANCIS N. KORTH Review for Religious living in the world, to achieve personal p~rfection through the prac-tice of the evangelical counsels and to spread the life of Christian perfection among all classes, especially among those whose profes-sions or positions permit a great influence on society. Opus Dei was the first secular institute to obtain papal approval (decree of praise on February 24, 1947) and the first to receive definitive papal ap-proval (on June 16, 1950). Today Opus Dei has about two hundred houses in various parts of the world; it numbers members from more than thirty countries. In the United States a house of the men's branch has been in exist-ence in Chicago for a number of years (address: 5544 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Illinois); during the past two years a house of the women's branch has also been set up there (address: 4944 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Illinois). Since November, 1953, a house of the men's branch has been located at Boston (address: 22 Marlborough St., Boston, Mass~achusetts). At present in the United States there is no diocesan priests' branch. It is of special interest to note that initial steps, in God's providence possibly leading to the honors of the altar, have been taken regarding one of the former members of Opus Dei, Isidoro Zorzano by name, a man in an ordinary profession in the world (he was a railroad construc-tion engineer). His story is told by Daniel Sargent in God's En-gineer. Besides Opus Dei a second secular institute has been given the definitive approval by the Holy See (August 3, 1953) ; it is the in-stitute known as the Missionaries of the Kingship of Christ. This group ~was started at Assisi, Italy, on November 19, 1919, by Father Agostino Gemelli, O.F.M. It is an association of women, with the purpose of dedication to Christian perfection through the observance of the evangelical counsels and of dedication to the lay apostolate of spreading the Kingdom of Christ according to the spirit of St. Francis of Assisi. All members of this secular institute are also members of the Third Order of St, Francis. There is an active section and an oblate section. While no particular aposto-late is undertaken, the members place themselves at the disposal of the Church; members of the active section serve where superiors want to use them. The activities are varied: helping the poor and the sick, operating protective organizations, taking special interest in fostering the liturgical apostolate, encouraging adoration of the Blessed Sacrament in churches, and other works. Candidates might 154 May, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES qualify if they, are convinced that they wish to live for Christ, are available for an active apostolate, and are engaged in work that as-sures independence. Applicants should be between the ages of twenty-one and thirty-five, should be in good health, and should realize the need of daily Mass, Holy Communion,and meditation. This institute has three branches: one for men, a second for women (separately organized but .with the same constitutions the men's branch has), and a third for diocesan priests in as far as compatible with their loyalty to their bishop. Lay members may live in their own homes or anywhere they choose. The government, except for the priests' branch, is in the hands of lay persons. An American foundation of this institute exists in Washington, D.C. (Address communications to: Rev. Stephen J. Hartdegen, O.F.M., Holy Name College, 14th and Shepherd Streets, N.E., Washington 17, D.C.) The institute has spread extensively in the country of its origin, besides branching out into four or five other countries; its total membership is probably about four thousand. In 1926 at Schoenstatt, Germany, under the guidance of Father Joseph Kentenich, S.A.C., the Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary of the Catholic Apostolate had their origin. (The word "sisters" is a German title used by all engaged in social work and does not here mean religious sisters in the canonical sense.) The members of this group dedicate themselves fully to a practice of evangelical perfec-tion and the apostolate through a specifically Marian and apostolic formation of modern women in order to aid the spiritual renewal of the world in Christ through Mary. This secular institute for wom-en is part of the general Schoenstatt Apostolic Movement with its various circles and groups, in accordance with the central idea of a universal apostolate--all fields of activity, all persons, everywhere. Some of the varied activities performed by this group include teach-ing, conducting hospitals, acting as home visitors, helping in par-ishes as teachers of children and converts, acting as social workers. The institute nt~mbers close to two thousand today and is spread over five continents. Contact with this group can be made at the following address in this country: New Schoenstatt, R.R. 5, Madi-son 4, Wisconsin. On June 30, 1950, the decree of praise was bestowed by the Holy See on a secular institute known as the Company of St. Paul. Growing out of a Catholic Action activity, this group was started by Cardinal Ferrari at Milan, Italy, on November 17, 1920, as a religious community with a common rule of life. It received the 155 FRANCIS N. KORTH Reuieu~ for Religious name of Companyof~ St. Paul in 1924. A decree of recognition and approval of its rule was received from the Holy See on July 1, 1942. In 1949 the Company of St. Paul was_ included under the new rulings of the Piooida Mater Ecclesia. Besides the pursuit of perfection through the practice of the .evangelical counsels, the pur-pose of this institute is to promote a more efficacious collaboration of clergy and laity in the establishment of the reign of Christ in modern society, both in individuals and in social institutions. Each of the three sections (for.priests, for laymen, and for laywomen) has its own superior, but all are united under one general head cho-sen from the section for priests. Some work is being done in this country by this institute, although no foundation ~xists as yet. (A contact address could be furnished on request.) Another group which has no foundation at present in America, but which has some solid hope of realizing such a foundation in due time (initial steps have been taken), is the Institute of Ou.r Lady of Life. Following the Discalced Carmelite spirituality, this secular institute was started by Father Marie-Eugene, O.C.D., in 1932 near Venasque, France. The element of dedication to the con-templative life in the world, of the silent apostolate of edification, of being witnesses to Christ either through individual activity or through works proper to the institute is the characteristic note of this organization. Any appropriate kind of work is permitted to the members; some are engaged in teaching, others in social work or various walks of public life. This institute received diocesan ap-proval in France several years ago., " The foregoing are the secular institutes known to have founda-tions or at least representatives in this country. Groups in Process of Deuetopment Besides established secular institutes, a number, of other groups in this country and in Canada are in the process of possibly devel-oping into future secular institutes. An organization which has obtained approval (as a "pious union") in two dioceses in France and in one in Canada is caIled the Daughters of St. Catherine of Siena. This group was founded in France in 1947~ by Father Thomas Deman, O.P. The Dominican spirituality is followed. Formation of the members takes place in convents of the Dominican Sisters of the Congregation of St. Cath-erine of Siena. At present all American members are affiliated with the Canadian foundation; a house in the United States is desired. 156 Ma~t, 1054 SECULAR INSTITUTES Canada has a very flourishing association of this kind which is in the process of possible development into a secular institute. Its purpose is dedication to evangelical perfection and tb an apostolate in the world according to the principle, "Caritas Christi per Mari-am" (the Charity of Christ through Mary). The apostolate is being carried on in Canada; foreign mission work is a possibility. This associaton has over twenty-two groups with about two hun-dred members, many of whom practice a profession. .Members are trained to live alone; personal responsibility is cultivated. The growth of this group has been phenomenal. A number of smaller groups are in lesser stages of development in this country. One such group is at present engaged in the home care and guidance of teen-age boys, and envisions eventual apostolic work in career-counseling, information services, engaging in Church public relations, personnel service in staffing Catholic organizations, and obtaining positions in other institutions. Another group, based upon the Benedictine way of life, is dedi-cated to the rural lay apostolate of helping pastors in their work for souls in needy rural areas. A third group has adopted St. Francis de Sales as its patron in its general apostolate of helping the pastor of a parish; under his direction such help might take the shape of visiting families in the p.arish, talking with persons about going to the sacraments and having their babies baptized, the promotion of retreats and da.y,s of recollection and the like. Still another group is dedicated to an apostolate of service in discovering and developing a Christian culture primarily through work in the poorest and most needy parishes; a member might fill in temporarily for a teacher who is sick or might help to clean the church or do other tasks. In such groups provision is made of course for fostering the spiritual life of the members. In at ,least several of them the breviary is recited in English. Since members usually support themselves in their regular professions or positions or jobs, they are accustomed to work. In one group eight hours of work per day is expected of each regular member. To help meet the financial problem in another of these organizations, the smaller groupings will have three or four members, with one earning the income for the group and the others devoting their full time to the works of the institute without re-muneration. All of these groups are still in the formative stage; as such they also usually are small in number for the time being. When further development is realized, expansion would be desirable. Besides these developing groups, there are several other, tentative 157 FRANCIS N. KORTH Reoiew for Religious groups in the early stages of thought, Possibly there are many more. If anyone in a responsible position cares to send in more information for publication about one of the groups already mentioned, or about others, such information would receive due consideration for pos-sible publication in this REVIEW. A goodly number of priests are quite interested in these new institutes because of the possibilities of their apostolate. Some priests are helping groups to develop; others direct or prepare possible candidates for some such group. One priest, for exampIe, becomes weIl acquainted with young people in the retreats he conducts; then, having knowledge of exist!ng secular institutes or associations in the stage of development, he is in a posi-tion to aid likely candidates and channel them to one of the groups existing in various parts of America. The Nagoya Group After, considering the various known secular institutes and the developing groups in our own country and in Canada, our readers might be interested in knowing something about a secular institute which has been established in Nagoya, Japan. This move is con-sidered of historical impc~rtance, according to one newspaper ac-count, because "it represents something entirely new in the history of mission countries." .The problem of catechists and lay apostles in Japan had become vital owing to the increasing number of catechumens. At the same time a large number of young women were yearni~ng to consecrate themselves entirely to a life of perfection and of the apostolate. As a result various bands of catechists worked in" different ~places. Four years ago, undef the inspiration and guiding hand of a missionary, Father'George Gemeinder, S.V.D., women catechists were grouped together for the purpose of forming a future secular institute. On January 28 of this year (1954), the Secular Insntute of the Cate-chists of Our Lady, Virgin and Mother, received the nihil obstat from Rome in regard to its constitutions; the institute was then established by the Prefect Apostolic of Nagoya, Monsignor Peter Matsuoka, on February 11, 1954. The first year of novitiate was scheduled to open on the Feast of the Annunciation, March 25, 1954. One of the women members has been made "Inchosama," which is a general term for "head of the house" or superior. Father Gemeinder acts as director; Father Anthony Zimmerman, S.V.D., is wce-dlrector. The purpose of this institute is to help the needs of the missions. 158 May, 1954 SECULAR INSTITUTES Among the varied forms of the apostolate in which members might be ~ngaged would be included the following: acting as full-time catechists at various mission stations; assisting existing organizations in the locality: acting as .teachers, hospital workers, and the like; being employed in a professional field. Candidates should have the necessary physical, mental, and so-cial qualities for carrying on the.work of the institute. After a pos-. tulancy and novitiate, during which a solid'training in spiritual mat-ters is given to help them lay a firm foundation for a life of personal perfection and for a fruitful apostolate, the members take the vows of poverty, chastity,, and obedience proper to their institute and,a promise under oath to devote themselves to the apostolate. In car-rying on their apostolic work, members might live individually or at times in community. This gives some idea of the new secular institute at Nagoya. As its name implies, stress is placed upon catechetical training and work --an all-important apostolate in a country in which so many souls have not yet heard the message Christ came to preach. Conclusion As a conclusion to these statistics on secular institutes, it might be interesting to mention the secular institutes which are listed in the Annuario Ponti[icio for 1953 as being institutes of pontifical right. On pages 832-833 four secular institutes for men are thus listed. They are the Company of St. Paul (originated in Italy), Opus Dei (originated in Spain), the Priest Workers of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (Spain), and the Society of the Heart of Jesus (France). For women fi've such institutes are given on page. 1233: the Daughters of the Queen of the Apostles (Trent), the Teresian Institute (Mad-rid), the Missionaries of the Kingship of Our Lord Jesus-Christ (Milan), the Institute of Our Lady of Work (Paris), and the Women's Section of Opus Dei (Madrid). PLENARY INDULGENCE FOR SEVEN SORROWS BEADS At the request of the Prior General of the Order of the Servants of Mary (Servites), His Holiness, Pope Plus XII. on December 19, 1953, kindly granted a plenary indulgence to be gained by the faithful who, after confession and Holy Communion, devoutly recite the beads of the Seven Sorrows of the Blessed Virgin Mary, before the Blessed Sacrament of tbe Altar, wbether publicly exposed or re-served in the tabernacle. (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, February 16, 1954, p. 73.) 159 NATURE AND GRACE. By Matthlas Joseph Scheeben. Translated by Cyril Vollert, S.J. Pp. xxlv ~ 361. B. Herder Book Co., St. Lou~s, 1954. $4.~s. With the Publication of this work in 1861 the author took his first step on the path which brought him to the forefront of the theologians of his day. In it be set out to treat the central theme of his thought--the super~natural and its place in the life of the Chris-tian. Around this thought his treatise is built and on it the em-phasis is constantly placed. This is not a textbook but a readable treatise which has been put into flowing English. Scheeben not only knew the great Scholastic writers but be was also well versed in the Fathers of the Church, both Western and Eastern. With such an equipment he manages to make clear many difficult concepts and doctrines. We are thus treated not merely to a fine doctrinal exposition but also to a stirring appeal to realize our destiny. Parts, if not all, of the book will serve well for spiritual read-ing. Thus, after a thorough explanation of man's spiritual nature, of sanctifying grace and the supernatural order, there follows'a care-ful explanation of the acts of the supernatural life, particularly faith, hope, and charity. The climax is an enthusiastic description of the union of nature and grace in the supernatural acts. --AUGUSTIN C. WAND, S.J. Books abou Mary A book of exceptional value is PAPAL PRONOUNCEMENTS ON MARY, compiled and arranged by the Right Rev. Msgr. William J. Doheny, C.S.C., and the Rev. Joseph P. Kelly. It contains transla-tions of the principal papal statements about Mary from Pius IX to Pius XII. Included are the texts of Ineffabilis Deus and Muni£- centissfmus Deus, defining the dogmas of the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption respectively, and the very beautiful encyclical of Plus X, Ad Diem Illum. This is the best kind of spiritual read-ing about the Mother of God. (Milwaukee, Wis.: The Bruce Pub-lishing Company, 1954. Pp. x -t- 270. $4.50.) 160 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS MEDITATIONS AND INSTRUCTIONS ON THE BLESSED VIRGIN, by the Rev. Arthur Vermeersch, S.J., is a reprint of a work pub-lished in the early part of the century and translated by W. Hum-phrey Page, K.S.G. The meditations and instructions are intended for the use of both clergy and laity. Volume I contains meditations for each of the feasts of Mary, a novena for the Feast of the Im-maculate Conception, a novena to obtain devotion to Mary, and meditations for the month of May. Volume II has a meditation for each Saturday of the year, as well as a supplement with meditations for various feasts. (Westminster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1954. Pp. I." xxiv + 438; II: xv + 468. $7.50 per "set.) The Rev. A. Biskupek, S.V.D., offers readings and reflections on OUR LADY'S LITANY. This is a good book for meditation during May, October, or any other time during the Marian Yea[. Helpful reflections are provided for each invocation of the Litany of Loreto. The author will be remembered for his three volumes of conferences on the rite of ordination. (Milwaukee, Wis.: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1954. Pp. vi + 166. $2.75.) MARY C~OD'S MASTERPIECE features sixty-two reproductions of paintings of Our Lady in full color, with appropriate texts from the Sacred Scriptures and the Liturgy~ The the Redemptorist Fathers as a Marian-Year Mother. It is a real work of art, an attractive Year. (New York, N.Y.: Perpetual Help $2.00.) The latest of his many writings about book was prepared by tribute to the Blessed souvenir of the Marian Press, 1954. Pp. the Blessed Mother is THE SONG OF THE ROSARY, by Daniel A. Lord, S.J. The book covers each of the fifteen mysteries of the Rosary in a style which the author himself explains in his own inimitable way: "I found that I could not possibly confine in simple prose the context of what I had to write or the emotions needed to accompany the writing. So I adopted a sort of natural rhythm that is not prose and yet not strictly analyzable poetry. Call it what you wis,h; I call it simply a rhythm." (St. Louis, Mo: The Queen's Work, 1953. Pp. 399. $4.00.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] AVE MARIA PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. Patch Scatters Culture. By Patrick J. Carroll, C.S.C. This is 161 I~OOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious the fourth of Father Carroll's books about Patch. The first was published almost twenty-five years ago. It was, as one reviewer said of it, "one of the happiest, brightest, most vivacious stories of a boy's life that one could wish to read." Of the author, the same re-viewer said: "Father Carroll has the gift of spinning a story and filling it with humor and wisdom. His dialogue is even more sprightly than his narrative." The story-telling gift; and espe-cially the realistic, Irish-flavored dialogue are still ~manifest in this fourth volume which continues the reminiscences of Patch and con-cludes with an Epilogue about how Patch, now a priest, visited his homeland. "And so happy memories to you," the Epilogue con-cludes; and one who knows Father Carroll can even hear him say it. Pp. 223. $2.75. BEAUCHESNE, R

Issue 10.2 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; ~:~ - ~, A.M. D, G., ~ Reiciew for Religious St. Jos~ph;s Patronage . Francis L Filas ' Dominican Spirffuality . .~ Regknald Hughes Ten÷afive Tes¢incj ~ P¢ogram . Sister M. Digna, Peace . : . Winfrld Herbst Why Do They Leave.'! . ; . . . Anonymou,s ~uesfions and Answsrs Book Reviews ¢ Summer Sessions Communications VOLUME X NUMbeR~ 2 RI::VII:W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME X MARCH,, 1951 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS ST. JOSEPH'S PATRONAGE--Francis L Filas, S.J .5.7 THE FAMILY FOR FAMILIES . 66 THE ASSUMPTION . 66 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . , . 66 DOMINICAN SPIRITUALITY--Very Rev. Reginald Hugl~es, O.P. 67 FRANCES SCHERVIER CAUSE ADVANCES .7.4. : TENTATIVE TESTING pROGRAM-~Sister M. Digna, 'O.S.B. 75 PEACE--WINFRID HERBST, S.D.S . 81 WHY DO THEY LEAVE?--Anony.mous . 84 BOOK REVIEWS-- Catholic Social P,rinciples; The Nun~.at her Prie-Dieu; Recruiting for , Christ; .Patrology ; Religious Sisters .~ . ' . 93 BOOK NOTICES . . 101 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . ;.~. . 102 COMMUNICATIONS ° 104 ' QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Term of Office for Local Superior . 8. Obligation to Sick Religious under Temporary Vows . 106 9. Letter to Local Ordinary . 107 I0. General Chapte~ and Change in Constitutions " 108 11. Attwater on Apgstoli ~ndulgence . 108 12. Indulgence for Reeling Rosary . 109 13. Vote on Clerical Religious before Major Orders .109 14. Vows Reserved to the Holy See . 1 I0 SUMMER SESSIONS . 111 REPRINTS : SINGLE SETS . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS,~ March, 1951, Vol. X, No. 2. Published bi-monthly : January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press," 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.I., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: ,Jerome Breunig, S. 3. Copyright, 1951, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, proyided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a rear. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, pleese consult notice on inside back'cover. S!:. Joseph's Patronage Francis L. Filas, S.J, ST. JOSEPH'S closeness tO Jesus and Mary gives him~a'degree of dignity and holiness which it is hard to understand. 'However, if we consider his position as Patron of the Universal Cl~urch, we can grasp to some extent the exalted rank God has given him. By studying the greatness of the patronage, we learn the greatness of the patron. , Like every pa.,tron saint, 5oseph receives from God a quasi-right to protect his clients. This precise relation of .patron "saint to client is difficult to express in our language, but the" fact is certain. The patron is like a father toward his charge, and a s~rong note of fatherly love characterizes his watchful care. The Communion of Saints is the bond that unites the Church Triumphant with the Church Militant and the Church Suffering. Due to this bond God grants the saints in heaven a special interces-sory power so that.by their prayers they can further the spiritual and temporal interegts of their brethren on earth. They invoke the merits they gained during their tim~ 6f pilgrimage, and by an act of suppli-cation they present to God~'t'bei}~requests for~th~ir clients, In this we rightly discern a manifestation of:the all-eml~ra~ing love which'Chrlst desires to flourish in His Church. ':'* Individual saints can freely be chosen as~patrons by anyone. In the case of some, however, it is fitt,ng that,~ttiey spec,ally watch over particular groups of people or types of~enterprises. Ordinarily, this fitness exists because of a circumstance df the saints' lives or some providential direction of their energies and prayers. Thus, the patrons' interests are more specific.ally those of ,their clients. Papal Pronouncements on Reason for St. Joseph's Patronage In the case of St. Joseph his patronage is the logical extension of his duties on earth. Although he was officially declared Patron of the Universal Church by Plus IX in 1870, Pius did not actually create him as such. The Pope. proclaimed what had already been a reality. St. Joseph's office as Patron of the Ufiiversal Church, a~ well as the dignity belonging to this title, was a corollary of the office and the dignity whichGod bestowed on him in making Joseph the head of the Holy Family. Reoieto for Religio,,s The decree of Pius IX makes this clear. "'Because of this sublime dignity which God conferred on His most faithful servant, the Church has always most highly honored and praised Blessed Joseph next to his spouse, the Virgin Mother of God, and has besought his intercessiob in times of trouble . Plus IX has therefore declared St. J~oseph~ Patron of the Universal Church.''1 The same termi-nology of "declaring" the Saint's patronage occurs in the Pope's decree of 1871.2 Even more detailed is Quamquam Pturies, the encyclical of Leo XIII concerning devotion to St. Joseph. "There are special reasons," Leo says, "why Blessed Joseph should be explicitly named the Patron of the Church, and why the Church in turn should expect much frdm his patronage and, guardianship. For he indeed was the husband of Mary, and the father, as was supposed, of Jesus Christ. From this arise all his dignity, grace, holiness and glory . "The divine h~usehold which Joseph governed as with paternal authority contained the beginnings of the new Church. The Virgin most holy is the mother of all Christians, since she is the mother of Jesus and since she gave birth to them on the mount of Calvary amid the indescribable sufferings of the Redeemer. Jesus is, as it were, the firstborn of Christians, who are His brothers by adoption and redemption. "From these cor~siderations we conclude that the Blessed'Patriarch must regard all the multitude of Christians who constitute the Church as confided to hih care in a certain special manner. This is his numberless family scattered throughout all lands, over which he rules with a sort of.paterr~hl" authority, because he is the husband of Mary and the father of J~sus Christ. Thus, it is conformable to rea- .~on and in every way becoming to Blessed Joseph that as once it was his sacred trust to guard with watchful care the family of Nazareth, no matter what befell, so now by virtue of his heavenly patronage he is in turn to protect and to defend the Church of Christ.''s The Recognition of St. Joseph's Patronage Its Historq This modern concept of Joseph's patronage lay hidden and unnoticed for centuries. Probably the first writer to call attention to it was John Gerson, the chancellor of the University of Paris. Gerson proposed St. Joseph's. guardianship of the Church in a set-lPius IX, Quemadmodum Deus, ASS 6, 193. ZPius IX, lnclgturn Patriarcbam, ASS 6, 324. SLeo XIII, Quamquam Pluries, ASS 22, 65.' 58 March, 19 51 ST. JOSEPH'S PATRONAGE mon to the. members of the Council of Constance, September 8, I 416. °The sermon had as its purpose the adoption of a feast of the espousal of Joseph and Mary. With deep anxiety the chancellor noted the disastrous results of the great Western Schism of 1378, a wound to the Church which was still unhealed. Gerson asked for al3proval of the feast of the espousal "in order that through the meri~ of Mary and through the intercession of so. great, so powerful, and in h certain way so omnipotent an intercessor with his bride., the Church might be led to her only true and safe lord, the supreme pastor, her spouse in place of Christ.''4 The suggestion made by Gerson was not acted upon, but once it had been put forth, the idea continued to recur to others. What really began to receive marked emphasis was JoSeph's part as guardian of the. Holy Family. This contained in germ the concept of Joseph's further guardianship of Christ's Churqh. It was next elaborated in the Summa of the Gifts of St. Joseph, a Latin book written by a Dominican, Isidore de :Isolani, in 1522. While depicting the exceptional honors he felt sure would be granted the saint, Isidore heralded the future with this prophecy: "For the honor of His name: God has chosen St. Joseph as head and special patron of the Church Militant.'.'~ The theme, of St. Joseph's guidanc~ of the Holy Family and of-the Church continued to run tl~kough the devoii3n~'as it flourished up to the middle of the eighteenth century. H~re, in.common with the temporal fortunes of the Church, it suffered a rela13se; but with the reign of Pius IX, a hundred years later, it. aggin surged forward. During the 1860's, various petitions'from bishops, priests, and the faithful were sent to the'Holy See, *asking for St. Joseph's full glorification in the liturgy and for the declaration of his patronage of the 13niversal Church. Three special, petitions were presented to the Vatican Council i.n 1869-70. ,It seems that these three were the petitions which immediately led Pius IX to make his declaration on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception in 1870.6 St. Joseph as Patriarch ~ Closely related to Joseph's title of Patron of the Universal Church is his title of Patriarch. Ordinarily, the name. "patriarch" is reserved for a man who is the father of numerous descendants. The patriarchs 4John Gerson, Sermon of September 8, 1416, Conclusion; Summa Josephina, 213. 5Isidore de Isolani, Summa de donis S. loseph, III, 8. ~For historical details, cf. Film, The Man Nearest to Christ, oh. 9, 10. 59 FRANCIS L. FILAS Review for Religious of the Old Testament deserve the title not only because of their ven-erable fatherhood, but also (in a spiritual sense) because of the Mes-sias who was to be born of their line. They were literally "patri-archs. in preparation," in view of God's promise of the Savior who was to spring from the Jewish people. St. Joseph was truly the greatest of the patriarchs, understanding the term in this spiritual meaning. Our Lord took human nature of the virginal wife of Joseph, and in this fashion the saint exercised the rights.~of father over Him whose spiritual posterity would embrace all the elect. Leo XIII explains how Joseph's. position as patriarch is linked with his offke as patron. "Conformably with the Church's sacred liturgy," the Pope writes in his encyclical on St. Joseph, "the opinion has been held by not a few Fathers of the Church that the ancient Joseph, son of the Patriarch Jaco.b,foreshadowed both in person and in office our own St. Joseph. By his glory he was a prototype of the grandeur of the future' guardian of the Holy Family. In addition to the circumstances that both men bore the same name--a name by" no means devoid of si~nificance-~'it is well known to you that they resembled each other very closely in other respects as well. "Notable in this regard are the facts that the earlier Joseph re-ceived spec!al favor and b~nevolence from his lord, and that when placed by him as ruler over his houkehold, fortune and prosperity abundantly accrued tO the master's house because of Joseph . Thus, in that ancient patriarch we may recognize the distinct image of St. Joseph. As trio. one was prosperous and successful in the domestic concerns of. his lord, and in an exceptional manner was set forth over his whoIe kingdom, so the other, destined to guard the name of Christ, could well be chosen to defend and to protect the Church, which is truly the house of God and the kingdom of God on earth.''~ ¯ . In the e.arly 1700's the Holy See was considering the re-insertion of Joseph's name into the Litany of the Saints,. from which he seems to have been dropped at some earlier date. In the study of this ques-tion, Cardinal Lambertini (the future Benedict XIV) published a st~orig defe'nce of Joseph's position as patriarch. He wrote, ~ '"That St. Joseph can be called Patriarch is proved from the fact that the patriarchs, according to the holy Fathers and both ancient ~nd more recent writers, were those who were the progenitors of the ;Leo XIII, Quarnquara Pluries. 6O .March, 1951 ST. JOSEPH'S PATRONAGE families of the Chosen People. Since, therefore, St. Joseph was the putati~'e father of Christ our Lord, He who is the head of the pre-destined and the elect, the name of patriarch is for this reason rightly and deservedly attributed to St. Joseph, and by- this very name is he a,ddressed by most writers. "St. Joseph was not the natural father of Christ our~L-ord and did not generate Him, but this alone can prove that he was not the father of the faithful by natural generation, as. were the other patri-archs. It doesnot hinder him from being patriarch in a more perfect and more exalted manner according to the "explanation we have already giyen.''s The Di~nitq and Ef~cacy .'of St. Joseph's Patrohaqe Joseph's dignity both as Patriarch and as Patron of the Church is most exalted, for these two titles recognize in,him ar~ excellence that is absent in other men. The wider the extent of his patronage, so much the wider must be its dignity; and since Joseph's patronage is concerned wiLh the entire Church, he is, reverenced to a degree that is subordinate only to the honor given Mary. The sterling worth of the saint's office is also measured by the perfection on which it is based. Because he ~cted ast the father of Jesus, his patronage is an extension of his office oia earth. Yet, his role as patroh is not based merely on. a certain fittingness, as is the case of other saints. Instead, his God-g!ven titles of husb~and of Mary and father of Jesus directly place ~the interests of Christ's Church close to his heart. All this has b~en solemnly con.firme.d by ,official papal decree. The power of Joseph's intercession appears from his holiness, from his virginal fatherhood, and from his relationship to our Lady-. We know that the effi.cacy of a saint's intercession depends in general on his love of God and on his glory in heaven. The higher a soul exists in glory, by so much is he more acceptable to Ggd. Joseph's holiness and glory are considered second only to the holiness and glory of our Lady. Again with the sole exception of Mary, no one except St. Joseph ever had a quasi-authoritative position over Christ. No other saint shared that intimacy with the blessed Mediatrix of all graces which only Mary's virginal husband possessed. This gives Joseph a tre-mendous intercessory power which the Church has officially reco~- SBenedict XIV, De Beatif. Serv. Dei et Canon, Beat. I. 4, p. 2, c, 20; n. 57. 61 FRANCIS L. FILAS nized. Among other indicative actions it has approved and indul-genced a Memorare in imitation of the same type of prayer addressed to Mary: "Remember O most pure spouse of the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, my beloved pat~ron, that never has it been heath that anyone invoked thy patronage and sought thy aid without being comforted. Inspired by this confidence, I come to thee and fervently commend myself to thee. O, despise not my petition, dear foster father of our Redeemer, but accep.t i~. graciously. Amen.''9 The Univ~rsatitg of St. Joseph's Patronage It would appear that Joseph's patronage as understood in its full extent embraces all those who owe their.salvation to the redemptive work of Jesus and to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. The reason is clear. Joseph was chbsen to be virginal father and virginal husband in order that the redemptive work of our Lord in co-operation with Mary might be accomplished. Hence, the saint's guardianship (which is the outgrowth of his protection of Jesus and our Lady) logically embraces all who participate in the fruits of the Redemption. Meditative consideration of the full meaning of Joseph's title "reveals still further consequences in another direction. Since the saint is patron of the whole Church, his interests must be more universal than those of othe~ sa.ints. Other patrons concern themselves with one group of persons; Joseph is patron of all. Resultantly,.writers have amplified his title so that they describe him as universal patron because Patron of the Universal Church. In other words, he is the patron of everyone in every class. Because he was a member of an impoverished family of kings, the story of his life heartens all who suffer financial reverses. Earning his livelihood and supporting his holy charges at the carpenter's bench, he fittingly leads all who work for a living. In his actions we discover a guiding principle that can often hold true for every employer. He can look to Joseph, who, while supe-rior in authority, recognized that he was inferior in dignity and used his authority with the utmost moderation and prudence. Thus, while on the one hand St. Joseph inspires employers to provide just wages and healthful working conditions, on the other hand his example reminds employees to return fair and industrious service for °Indulg. 500 days, S. P. Ap., Jan. 20, 1933; Encbirid. Indulg. (1950), n. 472. 62 March, 1951 ST, JoSEPH'S PATRONAGE wages received. , ¯ . . Against the purveyors ofthe false ide.ologies of our day, Joseph stands out as the antithesis of racial prejudice and international ha-tred. Himself a Jew, he suffered because of the political dreams of a monarch '~ho was mad for power at any cost. Welcoming the for-eign Magi and then living in exile in a not too friencl, ly land, he knew the distress caused by prejudice against color and against race, Joseph's pIace as father in the Holy Family shows a11 fathers how steadfastly they must strive to imitate him in cherishing and educating their children. No husband can ever offer his wife a degree of fidelity and self'sacrifice great.er than thatwhich Joseph offered our Lady.' Hence, in him we behold the worthy patron of the Chris, tian family. As head bf Nazareth, the first Christian religious community, he exemplifies' the ideal religious superidr~ the serv'ant of the servants of God. Simultaneously his absolute and unquesti6ning obedience to the messengers of God mark him dut as the mbd~l foe priests and religious.' When ~he end comes to his iS~riod of. service Joseph di~s in the presehce of Jesus and Mary and is made the.gr.and protecto~ at the hour of death--the friend who le~ds departing souls peacefully to their Judge. " ' In our own age st. Joseph's patror;age'of labbr has been particu-larly emphasized~ Closely coupled with thi~ '~mphasis was the new honor grfinted him in 1937 by Plus XI. 'At ~hat tlm~ '£he Pope dec!.ared him the patron of the Church's campaign again.st atheistic communism, for"he ~belgngs to the work~ing-clas~, and he bor~ th~ burdens of i~6verty for himself and the Holy Family, whose tender and vigilant hea'd he was.''~° Universal Patron--Papal Pronouncements ¯ We possess sound Church authority for, claiming St. Joseph as the universal patron of the Church. The encyclical, of.Leo XIII, after tracing the saint's present office to his earlier,vocation on earth, continues, "This is the reason why the faithful of al! places and con-ditions commend and confide themselves to the guardianship of Blessed Joseph. In Joseph fathers of families have an eminent model of patern~l care.and providence. Married couples' find in him the perfec.t image, 6f love., harmony, and conjugal loyalty. Virgins can look to him for their pattern and as the guardian of virginal integ-rity. " " ¯ ~0Pius XI, Dioini Redemptoris, AAS 29, 106. FRANCIS L. FILAS Review for Religious '"With the picture of Joseph set before them, those of noble lineage can learn to preserve their dignity even under adverse circtim-stances. Let the wealt,hy understand what goods they should chiefly seek and earnestly amass, while with no less special right the needy, the In, borers, and all possessed of merely modest means should fly to his protection and learn to imitate him.''11 The Pope's.Briet~ on the Holy Family is entirely devoted to the subject of family life, placing Joseph with Mary and Jesus as a family exemplar.12 In the words of Benedict XV, "Since Joseph (whose death took place in the presence of Jesus and Mary) is justly regarded as the most efficacious protector of the dying, it is our purpose here to lay a special injunction on Our Venerable Brethren that they assist in every possible manner those pious associations.which have been insti-tuted to obtain the intercession of St. Joseph for the dying.''1~ The Litany of St. Joseph The shortest official summary of the Saint's patronage is found in the Litany of St. Joseph, approved by Plus X in 1909. This Litany expands; as it were, Leo XlII's earlier catalogue of.Joseph's clients --"all the faithful of all places and conditions." The action of Plus X in sanctioning the Litany of St. Joseph for use in public services gave Josei~h one of his most exclusive honors. Only four other litanies have been granted this rare and signal approval: the Litanies of the Sacred Heart and of the Holy Name of Jesus, the Blessed Virgin!s Litany of Loreto, and the Litany of the Saints (with its" two' adaptations for Holy Saturday and the Vigil of Pentecost, and for the commendation of a departing soul). The use of a litany as a form of prayer dates from the very earli-est days of the Church. The word itself comes from the Greek term, lissamai, "I pray," Probably Psalm 135 is the prototype on which the first Christians modeled their primitive litanies: "Praise the Lo~rd, for He is good; for His mercy endureth forever." Here, after every statement of the Psalmist, the phrase is repeated, "for His mercy endureth forever." This repetition of the same prayer has passed over into our mod-ern litanies. When addressing God we beg, "Have mercy on us"; when petitioning a saint's intercession, we say, "Pray for us." In. this manner, God or our Lady (and in the present instance, St. Jo-l~- Leo XIII, Quaraquam Pturies. 12Leo XIII, Neminem Fugit, Decr. No. 3777, CSR. l:~Benedict XV, Bonura Sane, AAS 12, 313. 64 Ma~h, 1951 ST. JOsEPH'S PATRONAGE seph) can be honored under different titles but always with the same petition. There is. a very interesting feature about the Litany of St. Jo-seph. Unlike the older litanies which spontaneously grew out of separate and more or less unrelated invocations this Litaoy was com-posed according to a rigid grouping. Seven tides depict the role that Joseph played on earth: Two concern his royal ancestry in preparation for the Messias: "'Illustrio~ts descendant of David"; "'Light of patriarchs"; Two, his relationship to Mary: "'Spouse of the Mother of God"; "'Chaste guardian of the Virgin"; Two, his relationship to Jesus: "'Foster father of the Son of God';; ¯ ' "'Watchful defender of Christ"; and finally, one' title as "'Head of the Hotg Famitg."" In the second group of invocations, six llst Joseph's special vir-tues: justice, chastity, prudence, valour, obedience, and faith. In the final division of eleven titles, four address him as ex-emplar: "'Mirror of patience"; . "'Lover of povert~t"; ~.,. "'Model of workmen"; "'Ornament of familg life"; and seven invoke him as a protecting patron: "'Guardian of Virgins"; "'Safeguard of families"; "'Consolation of the poor"; "'Hope of the sick"; "'Patron of the dgin9"; "'Terror of demons"; and "'Protector of Holg Church." For the final word on the patronage of St. Joseph, probably no tribute to the saint's widespread and powerful friendship will ever surpass the words of St. Teresa of Avila, long become classic: "It seems that to 'other saints our Lord has given power to help 65 FRANCIS L. FILAS:" " us.in only one kind'of: necessity; but this glorious saint, I know by my own experience, assists us in all kinds of necessities . I only request, for the love bf God., that. whoever will not belie~ve me will test the truth of what I say, forhe will see by experience how great a blessing it is to'recommend oneself to this glorious Patriarch and to be devout to him . Whoever wants a rnas~ei to instruct him how to pray, let him chobse tl~is glorious saint for his guide, and he will hot lose his way:''14 " ' THE FAMILY FOR FAMILIES One of the first of.the Catholic pocketbooks (50 centsL to be issued by the Lumen Books (P.O. Box 3386, Chicago 54, I11.) is a reprint of The Family for Families, by Francis L. Filas, S.J. In this behind-the-scenes story of the Holy Fam-ily at home Father F, ilhs, a'Ibioneer in the Cana Conference movement in the De-troit area. shows mode~;n husbands,and ~vives how they can share the happiness.and inspiration of the Nazareth home. Father Filas, also the author of Tbe Man Near-est Christ, is giving a cours,e at .Loyola University, Chica.go, on the theology of St. Joseph (cf.p.age 111)' " ¯ ; THE ASSUMPTION Pope Pius xII, on Octob'e~- 31, 1950, in connection with the formal definition, decreed that the invocation, Qr}een assumed into hedven, ¯should be added to the Litany of Loretto after the iti:cocation "Queen concei~d without original sin." He also approved a new Mass which is to replace the Mass formerly said on the Feast of the Assumption. . , . . ¯ our cONTRIBUTORS REGINALD HUGHES is .pr!or at S't. Peter Martyr Priory, Winona, Minnesota, and professor of philosophy] and religion at the College.of St. Teresa. WINFRID HERBST, author and retrea.t master, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. SISYER M. DIGNA is professor"of psychology at the Col-lege of' St. Schq~astica,, Duluth, Minesota. FRANCIS .L. ,FII~A$, the author of The Man Nearest Christ, is teach, lug at Loyola University, Ch!cago. Illinois. ¯ 14T~resa of Avila, Autobiooraphg, c. 6, n. 1 1. 66 Dominican Spirit:u lit:y Reginald Hughes, O.Po, UST beca'use they were men, the Apostles differed in tempera-ment and char.acter, peter was impetuous and quick; Paul, fi~ery and brilliant; John, loving and gentle. More than this, they were entrusted with distinct missions. Hence 'we cannot be 'surprised that the founders of religious orders, those wh6 took the apostolic band as their inspiration, manifested distinctive character-istics. St. Benedict consecrated his sons in a special way to the choral recitation of the Divine Office. The childreh of St. Francis find the secret of their spiritual Father in his seraphic poverty. St. Ignatius instituted a militia which united prudence and versatility to zeal for God's greater glory. St. Dominic was inspired to form an order of preachers and teac~hers, a closely knit organization dedicated to the diffusion of Divine '.Truth. ¯ Our Lord Himself revealed this .fact to St. Catherine of Siena when He told her: '~'Thy Father, Dominic, desired that his brethren have no other thought than the salvation of souls by the light of knowledge. It is this light that ~he wished to make tl~e principal object of his. order, to extirpate the errors existing in his day." Truth, then, contemplated and preached, is the ideal of the Order of St.Dominic. How faithful the early disciples of Dominic were to'this ideal We learn from the Vicars of Christ. In 1216, Pope Honorius III approved them as "champions of. the Faith and l!ghts of the world." POpe Alexander IV recommended them in 1257 as "men steeped in the divine science, powerf.ul preachers." In 1266, Pope Clement IV could laud their order as the "Guardian of T;uth." Not only that, but these decades, penetrated with the spirit of Dominic himself, produced in his order the friar who became the incarnation in his life and w~rks of the idefil which his'spiritual Father had envisaged. "See the glorious Thomas. Wldat a none intelligence, wholly applied to the contemplation of my Truth. There he found supernatural and infused knowledge, and this grace he obtained more by his prayers than by study." It would seem obvious that an investigation of the principles of Dominican life and spirituality would fittingly begin with an inter- 67 REGINALD HUGHES Review/or Religious rogation of the Angelic Doctor and his writings. Therein must be found those cardinal principles which have inspired the spiritual children of Domin'ic Guzman for more than seventy decades; We shall not be disapl~ointed in our search if we turn to the Summa Theologica, Thomas' masterpiece of Christian thinking. As a primary and fundamental principle Thomas would seem to advocate the fullest development of one's natural faculties. God has created us for His honor and glory, and to help us fulfill this mission He has endowed us with wonderful natural powers and properties: a spiritual soul, with an intellect, will, imagination and memory; a b.ody, with the physical ability of achievi.ng our earthly destiny. Each one of these gifts of Almighty God has within itself the capability of being developed to a certain degree of perfection that we call natural. Our duty is to develop all these natural powers, however not of ourselves nor for ourselves, but with God and for God alone. He has given us all that we have of goodness; He alone preserves us in the very existence we enjoy. The realization of this principle is witnessed in a grand phalanx of preachers,.: theologians, scripture scholars, canon lawyers, mystics, ascetics, philosophers, s~ientists, medical doctors, historians, painters, sculptors, miniaturists, architects, artists, engineers, litterateurs, poets, and simple, humble souls who have taken their inspiration from St. Dominic and placedtheir own distinctive mite and talents where they might best serve God's glory. But Thomas would remind us, when we have discovered all that nature in its very perfection can do, we must realize that it is as nothing in comparison, with the life of grace, the supernatural life of the soul, to which life God has raised us. This supernatural order surpasses the powers and exigencies of every created nature---even that of the most perfect angel. God could keep on creating angels more and more.perfect, yet never by their natural powers alone could they attain to the least degree of grace, There is simply no compari-son between created natur.e, actual or possible, and the Divine Na-ture, of which grace is a real and formal participation. By nature God gives us gratuitously to ourselves; by grace He" gives Himself gratuitously to us. Thus nature and grace are as distinct from each other as we are from God--infinitely. The just soul is "a partaker of the Divine Nature" insofar as it has within itself the radical prin-ciple of supernatural life, the life of God. St. Thomas tells us that 68 March, 1951 DOMINICAN SPIRITUALITY. the sanctifying grace of a single soul is of more value than all the natural good of the universe, m.'9(~ than all created or possible angelic natures combined. " -:" We can hardly conceive ~( higher idea of the order of grace. Neither can we' admit that thei'e is in us the least germ of this super-natural life. It is absolutely and entirely "the free gift of Almighty God. We have, it is true,, the purely passive capacity of being raised to the supernatural life. .This capacity, however, is no greater in the most perfect angel than in the humblest Christian soul. o And if the latter die with a degree of grace equal to that of the most perfect angel, she will see God as perfectly as that angel does. Such are some of the notions of the Angelic Doctor with regard to the order of grace and the supernatural. Our Faith teaches us that we are destined to this supernatural life. Grace is but the commence-ment of it, the seed of our eternal happiness. The effects of grace, he says, are the healing 6f the soul, wounded by sin, original or actual; the incentive to good desires; the effective operation .of these desires; final perseverance and eternal happiness. Grace unites us to God in charity, supernaturalizes every good action, elevates and perfects us as creatures of an infinitely superior world. The necessity of grace is such that without it we canfiot love God above all things, we cannot fulfill all the precepts of the natural law, we cannot abstain from all mortal sins and we dannot persevere in a good life until death. This teaching of Dominican spirituality thus. emphasizes our complete dependence upon the grace of God~ Are we then reduced to mere machines? No. We have free wills and God saves no man who has not the dksire to be saved. But He does command us to pray, to ask for His. grace and assistance, to beseech Him to bless us with those good gifts which He has determined to bestow only when we ask for them.° By prayer we recognizd God as the sole Author of all good and we realize that we have nothing of ourselves but sin. Thomas used to say that since natural wisdom is the gift of God, man ought not try or hope to acquire it by dint of study without humbly asking for it in prayer. Briefly, these are three'guiding principles of Dominican spir-ituality to be drawn from the Summa Theologica: the development of human nature; the infinite superiority of the life of grace; our complete dependence upon God, with the obligation to pray and labor ceaselessly for His honor and our eternal salvation. 69 REGINALD HUGHES Review for Reli~lious The important place that this spirituality gives to the natural development of our superior faculties has occasioned an accusation of naturalism by some who preferred to consider Thomas more of a philosopher than a theologian. Some have held that the Summa itself savors more of Aristotelian wisdom' than of the Gospel and St. Paul. However, since St. Thomas possessed a very precise notion of the power and purpose of human nature, he comprehended better any, thing that deformed it, all that was unregulated in it. The rooting out and healing of human defects is always considered by him from the point of view of the first cause and the last end, God. He de-clares that true human renovation in our present state is impossible without grace, whose two principal functions are to heal nature an'd elevate it supernaturally. Hence when Thomas speaks of natural perfection and the acquired virtues which constitute it, he is speaking not only as a philosopher, but also as a Christian and a theologian. Dominican spirituality emphasizes as well the infinite superi-ority of the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity, over the natural knowledge and love of G6d, and also over the natural knowledge of miracles and other signs of revelation. Our infused act of faith is not a natural act clothed over with supernatural mo-dality. It Is essentially supernatural. Its immediate formal motive is none other than Divine revealing Truth. Consequently, it is in-finitely superior to an act of faith made by the devil, founded on the natural evidence of miracles~ even though the devil has infused ideas more perfect than our acquired ones. From this point of view One conceives as well the inestimable value of the least act of charity, the elevation of the infused moral virtues above the acquired moral vir-tues, and the grandeur of the gifts of the Holy Ghost which render us docile to His inspirations. If, as for St. Thomas, fidelity to the Holy Spirit normally leads " one to the living waters of prayer, what should be said of the relation between contemplation and the apostolate? Does the intensity of the first demand the sacrifice of the second, and can the latter hope to be nourished by the warmth and light of the former? Dominican spirituality replies: the teaching of sacred doctrine and preaching ought to be derived from the plenitude of contempla-tion. In the language of St. Thomas these words have a very special significance. Contemplation is not ordained to action as a means subordinate to an end, such as study in view of a lecture, but it pro-duces it as from a superior cause. The culminating point in the life 70 March, 1951 DOMINICAN SPIRITUALITY of the apostle is the hour of Unibn with God in prayer. From this union he should return to men filled with the light of life, to speak of God and lead them to Him. Thus St. Thomas considers the active life and the purely con-templative life as means less perfect than the aposiolic life uniting both. As Christ and the twelve, the modern apostle should be a contemplative who gives to others the fruits of his contemplation to sanctify them. "°"'Contempla,re et contemplata aliis tradere," the motto of Dominican spirituality, are the very words of St. Thomas. With the hours of recollectioia which it exacts, contemplation, far from impeding apostolic activity, is its source. Thomas would say: where our contemplation ceases, there ends our apostolate also. Without it, without the desire to prepare one's self for it, inflated with knowledge, the soul radiates light no longer. Practical natural-ism envelops it and can wholly destroy it. Such divine contemplation as is demanded by Dominican spir-ituality makes one forget what flatters or bruises one's personality. It turns one always to God and souls; it suppresses the fever of superficial activity and spiritualizes one, causes him to act pro-foundly, to say much in a few words. ,~ Such a contemplative and apostolic life was lived by Dominic and many saints and blesseds of his religious family who preached and taught with indefatigable zeal and fire of which the Psalmist speaks: "ignitum eloquium tuum vehementer" (Ps. 1 15). That is one reason why Thomas himself is such a model of Dominican spirituality. Everything he did--pray, preach, teach, or write--he did with all the zeal and eagerness his heart could sug-gest. Zeal, he tells us, is nothing other than intense love, and the measure of our love of God is to love Him without measure. It is significant to note that Dominic, his successor, Blessed Jordan of Saxony, Blessed Reginald, Thomas, Pope Innocent V, St. Louis Bertrand--all died comparatively young. St. Catherine of Siena and St. ,Rose of Lima did not live thirty-five years, and the eleven-year old heart of Imelda Lambertini burst from the intensity of her love of God. "I feel and am persuaded," said St. Thomas, "that the chief duty of life, which.I owe to God, is in all my words, as in all my. thoughts, to speak. His praise." It was then the genius of St. Dominic that he placed his order as it were midway between the older monastic groups that had con-templatibn and personal sanctification as their aim, and the later 71 REGINALD HUGHES Review for Religious active orders that followed the Dominican lead in working for souls. Dominic envisioned the salvation of souls as the cherished fruitage of his prayer, his study and his teaching. Thus to the older monastic observances he added intensive study because there can be no opposition between truth discovered by study and contemplated Divine Truth. A Dominican does not contemplate and study pri-marily in order to preach and save souls, but he is filled with the zeal for the apostolate because through prayer and study he has acquired a deep personal knowledge of God. The closer a man is to Christ, the more apostolic he becomes. Dominican spirituality includes as well a liturgy peculiarly its own and" has guarded it carefully since its approbation by Pope Clement IV in 1267. It is essentially a Roman liturgy, and if any single peculiarity about it were to be noted it would be that it en-closes in its ceremonies a note of solemnity imprinted upon it by the antiquity of its customs and chant; that its prayers have a decidedly theological tone. In fact, it is the liturgy that rules the life of the Friar Preacher. Study, work, recreation, even sleep is set aside in favor of choral reci-tation of the Office, as the injunction of one of the early legislative Chapters of the Order notes: "The Office takes precedence of all our activities." It is easy to understand why St. Dominic gave such an impor-tant place to the observance of the liturgy in the life of his children. First of all, because it is divine worship par excellence, aiding one to perfect his duty of glorifying God. It also leads religious to the perfection of their state of life, because it is a simple and sure way to assimilate one's life to that of Christ, the model of religious. One might ask, what is the connection in Dominican life between the liturgy on one side, and study and the importance of the aposto-late ori the other side? The answer is that the liturgy does not take a religious from the essential object of his studies: God. The lit-urgy itself is the depository of Catholic doctrine condensed in pray-ers, in extracts from the Scriptures and the writings of the Fathers. It has been called living dogma speaking to the heart as well as to the head. T.he Friar Preacher in regularly dividing his time between study and liturgical prayer in no way sacrifices the latter but makes the former more fruitful. Frequent returns to choir keeps study from becoming simply an intellectual work and cold speculation. The danger of intellectualism can hardly menace one who joins 72 March, 1 ~ 51 DOMINICAN SPIRITUALITY study and preaching and teaching with the solemn prayers of the Church. The truth which the religious finds in his books, he dis-covers again in living liturgical formulas. Thanks to the liturgy theology can become a science filled with deep contemplation. As St. Vincent Ferrer has phrased it: "Through this interchange of prayer and study you will have a heart more fervent in prayer and a mind mor~ clarified for study." Not the least attractive feature of Dominican liturgical life is the perfect freedom which it affords~ in the matter of personal prayers. In the organization of Dominican daily life, everything conduces to contemplation. St. Dominic n~ver had any idea of limiting prayer to certain determined periods or forms. The earliest Con~stitutions consecrated the entire day to Go~d. When the Dominican is obliged to silence it is that he may bet-ter forget th~ world and himself that he may the better hear God. When he is placed under obedience to study, it is that the soul may be steeped in ~he beauty of the~ divine mysteries. Thus for him, study, liturgical prayer, - and pe.rsonal prayer suppose one another, sustain one another, penetrate ~n~ anothe~r. To violate them, to separate them, and to compare [~hem jealously would be to falsify the economy of Dominican life! In other Words, the Friar studies to pray better and prays that he may study better. If o~ were to seek characteristics of Dominican prayer he would find first that it is disciplined a,nd strong because saturated with the dogmas of ~he Faith; that it is humble, with a humility begotten of contemplation of the Divine M.ajesty: I am that which is; ~ou are that which is not"; and eminently free, because knowledge begets love and nothing is freer than tl~e love of God. Thus we find a marvellous ~ariety among the Dominican saints. Each one keeps his own distinci physiognomy, his personal tenden-cies, his preferred virtues, and b~ings together underthe same domes-tic roof differences of race, environment, and education. Yet they are all marked by the same distinctive note: the zeal for souls through the doctrinal apostolate. Each a[Ids his own personal note: a Vincent Ferrer, Spanish impetuosity a~d indomitableness; a Henry Suso, Teutonic mildngss and melancholy; a Catherine of Siena, Italian ardor ar;d harmony. It was th, le late Archbishop Paschal Robinson, O.F.M., who once said: "Dominican saints are wonderfully natural in their goodness." In order to prove our virtu~ and to increase our merit, God per- 73 REGINALD HUGHES Revieu; for Religious mits the power of death to exist in us. The body weighs down the soul, 'the flesh struggles against the spirit. Sin has broken the har-mony between the powers of the soul and their Creator. To re-establish order and to correspond to appeals' from our Saviour, vig-orous restraint must be imposed. Dominican spirituality does not ignore this, but prescribes the practices necessary to subdue rebellious forces of nature and to employ their liberated energies for the realiza-tion of the supreme design of Dominican life. It has been said that were a text to be chosen which should express Dominican spirituality, nothing could be more appropriate than the words of Our Lord set down by St. John: "The truth shall make you~ free." The children of Dominic have ever aimed at Truth and have. thus achieved freedom. Dominican spirituality has thus been likened to the architecture that flourished when the Order began its course in the thirteenth century--joyous and unrestrained-- springing up from earth as though it were part of the earth, pointing upwards as though it were part of heaven. "The Heavenly Husbandman, the Supreme Author and Protector of the Faith, has planted in the paradise of the Church as a fertile tree the Sacred Order of Preachers to exhilarate it by its beauty, to satiate it by the abundance and the exquisite savor of its fruits. Of superb aspect, filled with vigorous and dulcet strength, steeped in the morning dew of heaven, this tree is a source of life for the weak, of health for the infirm. Hence innumerable Christians, nourished by its salutary fruits, are endeavouring to shed around them its life-giving influence." (Alexander IV-~1257.) FRANCES SCHERVIER CAUSE ADVANCES After the Sacred Congregation of Rites examined the processes conducted by ordinary and apostolic authority relative to the life, virtues and miracles of the Servant of God, Mother France} Schervier (1819-1876), Foundress of the Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis (1845), the S.C. of Rites recently decreed the processei valid. Preparations are under way for the next step towards beatification, namely: the judgment on the heroic character of the virtues in particular. In this country the community conducts twenty-eight institutions including General Hospitals, Special Hospitals and Social Service Centers, located in .the Arch-dioceses of Cincinnati, Newark, New York and Indianapolis, also in the Diocese~ of Covington, Columbus, Brooklyn, Springfield in Illinois, Kansas City in Kansas, Charleston, Lansing, Steubenville and Albany. 74 A Tentative Testing Program t:or Religious Lit:e Sister M. Digna, O.S.B. THE interest expressed in the use of psychometrics as one means of evaluating the fitness of aspirants to religious life'~nd as objec-tive guides for the counseling of young religious has motivated the formulation of the following tentative testing program. The primary purpose of the testing program is to screen possibly unfit candidates before admission, or before they have assumed"responsi-bilities that they may be unable to carry¯ Unfitness is one of the indications that an individual has not been called to the life of reli-gion for, as canon 538 states, "Every Catholic who is not debarred by any legitimate impediment . . . and is fit to bear the burdens of the religious life, can be admitted into religion." Father 3osepb Creusen, S.,I., professor of canon law at the Gregorian University, Rome, interprets this further. He says, "But the presence of an obstacle which the subject cannot do away with of his own accord or the lack of aptitude, would suffice to show that this desire is the result of a call to a more perfect life in general, and not of a vocation to the religious life in particular.''1 How does one determine an obstacle or a lack of aptitude? Is it best decided on the basis of subjective opinion? Should scientific methods be employed? Communities now utilize the findings of medical science¯ What about the scientific findings in the field of psychometrics?. True, it is a new.field and one would never wish to rely on the findings of any single test or inventory as the sole deter-minant of fitness for religious life, but these data may implement or supplement other subjective impressions and observation; they may be good clues to hidden motives and personality "kinks" that may be corrected before becoming "set." Any testing program for religious life must necessarily be tenta-tive, for there are no tests, other than intelligence tests, that have been devised in terms applicable to religious life. In establishing a testing program for any community, one must consider such factors as trained or untrained personnel, interpretation of the data, and use of the findings. The ideal prerequisite is that some member of the 1Religious Men and Women in the Code, p. 129. 75 SISTER M. DIGNA Ret~iew for Religious community be trained in the field of psychometrics. As a prelim-inary step, several basic courses in tests and measurements may suffice. In lieu of trained personnel, the services of someone who is sympathet.ic to testing, who will conscientiously adhere to manuals of directions, and who will be extremely careful in interpreting results may be utilized. Much emphasis needs to be placed upon the inter-pretation of the findings, lest an individual be kept from the reli-gious 'life because of hastily drawn conclusions not warranted by the test or inventory itself. The examiner must assemble all types of information. The administrator will then make a careful study of all the data before recommending the admission or rejection of the aspirant. In case the applicant is accepted, the data may. also assist in orienting him to the religious life. A director provided with all the subjective and objective facts about the candidate can help him to a speedier and holier adjustment to religious life. ¯ Use of Intelligence Tests Other things being equal, a director can give better religious guidance according to his knowledge of the subject's degree of intel-ligence. Intelligence tests help one to gain this knowledge. One test, which may be referred to here as an example of the use of. intel-ligence tests, is the California Test of Mental Maturity, advanced series. This test has a number of significant features. .It is both diagnostic and analytical, and the scores may be interpreted in terms of mental ages and intelligence quotients: It includes items dealing with language fadtors, non-language factors, memory, spatial rela-tions, logical .reasoning, numerical reasoning, and vocabulary. The pre-tests are visual acuity, the purpose of which is to discover whether the examinees can see well enough to take the remaining .tests with fairness to themselves; the auditory acuity test, to discover whether individuals hear well enough what is said to them in an ordiliary tone of voice to warrant the giving of the tests; and a third to deter-mine the degree of motor coordinations the examinee possesses. After¯ the tests proper have been¯ administerd, the test results may be interpreted in terms of the language test data, which ale useful in indicating how well the individual understands relationships ex-pressed in words, and the non-language tests data indicating how well the individual ufiderstands relationships among things or ob-jects when language is not involved. The significance of these addi-tional data for guidance, selection, and placement is obvious in that 7,6 March, 1951 TESTING PROGRAM they Will make possible a more appropriate consideration of the real abilities of ti~e person. David .Wecbsler's interpretation of intelli-gence quotients for ages ten to ~ixtyu may be used: 128 and over, very superior; 120-127, superior; 1 I1-I I9, high average; 9i-I10, average; 80-90, low average; 66-79, borderline; and below 65," defective. What are the implications of these figure~ in any psychological testing program? First, the elimination of those unable to grasp the meaning of religious life; and secondly, the utilization of intelligence scores for determining the educational and vocational placement of religious. .In general, the intelligence score of the applicant is one more concrete evidence of the intellectual ability of, the individual. Those who are inferior or very low may need to be re-tested. If the score places the individuals below the low average, it is very doubtful whether they will be useful in religious life, unless the community is willing to assign them to very simple tasks. Then these questions arise: how well will they be able to understand the meamng and implications of religious life? How much benefit will they derive from the novitiate instruction? And will the community be willing to assume responsibility for possible custodial care? Personalitg Tests Intelligence is only one factor. Other factors such as background, personality, aptitudes, and interests should be considered when one applies, for admission into the religious life. Since the personality "from the philosophical point of view is too abstract an approach to give the necessary clues to the'individual's potentialities in getting along with others, the more concrete, approach is considered, here. The social skills which are basic to getting along with others are ski.lls that can be acquired. In community life gra- ¯ ciousness of manner and social skills need to be supernaturalized by stressing the virtue of charity as the- motivating force. What are the potentialities for an individual to get along with others and to sublimate the ups and downs of routine living with diverse temperaments? A personality needs to be free from nervous symptoms and introvertive or anti-social tendencies to adjust to reli-gious life. Even the most conscientious and holy novice master or mistress will succeed only in veneering a personality unless he recog-nizes the basic causes for certain personality defects. True, it may, 2The Measu~'ament of Adult Intelligence, p. 40. 7.7 SISTER M. D[GNA Review fol Religiou~ and likely will; happen that the subject makes a valiant effort to overcome these "faults,~' but if the fight seems continually a losing one, and the pressure of close supericision is removed, there is little doubt that the individual will revert to his innate tendencies. How detect these underlying causes, for maladjustments? No foolproof method of appraising personality has yet been devised. G~nerally, the personality scale takes the form of a rating scale. A definite assumption should motivate the use of any one of several rating scales. Most personality ratings have a number of valid uses if and when they are well administered. Common sense should operate in determining the purposes of the ratings and how they are to be used. Personal'ity tests are not as precise as or as easily interpreted as I.Q. tests; they are indicators rather than measure-ments of personality, and they p'rovide worthwhile leads to work upon for, symptomatic indications of emotional conflicts, maladjust-ments, tensions, anti-socialattitudes, and anxieties. A good person-ality is one that has achieved a balance between self and those around one. The self-adjustment is often indicated in terms of self-reliance, sense of personal worth, sense of belonging, sense of freedom, and freedom from withdrawing and nervousness. The adjustment toward others is interpreted in terms of social standards, social skills, whole-some gregariousness, family and social relationships. Among the several tests suitable for a testing program is the Cali-fornia Test of PerSonality. It includes items that will reveal the presence or absence of desirable or undesirable traits. The test is easy to administer and easy to score and, although the interpretation of the scores is almost self-evident, it is. wise for the one who interprets the test to explore further and probe deeper the other data on the person, particularly the intelligence quotient, the family history, and previous schooling record. In general, letters of recommendation are not too reliable, for tile tendency of.many, flattered by having to recommend an individual, is to put a halo around the person. The expressed purpose of the authors of the California Personality Test is to enable counselors to appraise and to improve thh personality of all ages. This instrument" makes possible a detailed and patterned diagnosis of personality adjustment as a basis for improvement that is possible of realization. Another test, the Bell Adjustment Inventory, attempts to get a reliable measure of an individual's personality in ihe areas of home, health, social, emotional, and occupational adjustments. This inven- 78 March, 1951 A TESTING PROGRAM tory is not more: than thirty minutes in length and it is easy to ad-minister, with simple and clear directions. The time for scoring each' test is not more than three minutes. In utilizing the inventory, the administrator needs to realize that, whereas it is more objective and more penetrating than observation, the results should be used only to implement other data. The Personality Inventory by Bernreuter has four specific areas which are assessed. B1-N is a measure of neurotic tendencies. A person scoring high on this scale tends to be emotionally unstable. Those scoring above the 98~percentile would probably need psychi-atric or medical advice, and certainly one would be hesitant about admitting aspirants to religious life with exceptionally oh'igh scores in this area without further consultation with a medical man. The B2-S is a measure of self-sufficiency.' Persons scoring high on this scale prefer to be alone, rarely ask for sympathy or encourggement, and tend to ignore the advice of others. The low score indicates the type of personality disliking to be alone, and often seeking advice of others. Perhaps scores on this section would in no way debar the aspirant from admission into religious life or from the priesthood, but in directing and guiding the individual, the scores offer clues to innate causes for externaI behavior. Modification of undesirable behavior patterns can best be attained by a.clear understanding of the innate causes. The B3-1 section of the Bernreuter Inventory meas-ures introversion-extroversion, with the high scores indicating intro-version, the low, extroversion. A score above the 98 percentile in this part of the inventory bears a similar significance to a high score on the BI-H section. The B4-D classifies the personality of the individual as either dominant or submissive. Low scores represent the naturally submissive type of individual. The use of the Minnesota Personality Scale and its interpreta~ tion was explained in considerable detail in a previou, s article.8 Unless there are trained individuals for interpreting the results, a community is wise to begin a testing program without attempting the more refined techniques of personality assessment through such projective techniques as the Rorschach Method. The Thematic Apperception Test or the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inven-tory should be administered and interpreted only by individuals trained to do so. As an initial step, it seems wiser to resort to the 8"Practical Application of Psychometrics to Religious Life," by Sister M. Digna, O.S.B., in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, IX, 132-39. 79 SISTER M. DIGNA " Reoieto for Religious simpler tests that can be administered and interpreted by a beginner before attempting to use more penetgating tests. Other Tests To insure better adjustment in religious life, some cognizance might well be taken of the individual interest and occupational pref- .erences. General and occupational interest inventories reveal whether the level, types, and fields of work offered meet the interests and the needs of the individuals. In planning effective community place-ment, an appraisal of the competencies, strengths, and weaknesses of the individual as they relate to a given area of worl~ or a specific task will often insure greater satisfaction on the part of the community as well as th~ individual. Two rather well-known and fairly reliable tests are the Kuder Preference Record, and Strong's Interest Blank. The Kuder Pref- .erence Record determines the types of activities which people prefer. The manual lists typical occupations which may correspond to the :preferred type of activity. Scores are designed to be recorded in the form of a graphic profile showing the percentile rank of the indi-vidual for each type of activity. Form BB gives scores for the fol-lowing activities: mechanical, computational, scientific, persuasive, artistic, literary, musical, social service, and clerical. The test is easy to administer, to, correct, and to interpret. Strong's Vocational In-terest Blank, one for women and one for men, is considered by some authorities more reliable than that of Kuder, but the scoring is very difficult. It is advisable to bare the answer sheets scored by machine, which costs from fifty cents to a dollar for each blank. The under-lying purpose of this appraisal of vocational interest is to indicate how closely the individual's interests correspond, with those of men and women successfully engaged in certain occupations. There are over 35 occupations, six occupational groups and three non-occupa-tional traits for men; for women, over 17 occupations and one non-occupational trait. Since there is a re!ationship between the level of the intelligence quotient and adult occupational adjustment, the following classifica-tion of Bernreuter and Cart4 may be of interest to those who wish to think of future work in terms of measured ability. These au-thorities believe .that the person with superior intelligence (115 and 4"The Interpretation of I.Q.'s on the L-M Stanford-Binet." in Journal of Educa-tional Psychology, XXIX, 312-14. 80 March, 195 l PEACE upward) will be best qualified for professional work requiring college or university training, the individual having a measured normal in-telligence quotient (85-114) will succeed in work requiring high school training, and the low average or dull person with an intelli-gence quotient between 70 and 84, unskilled work. The main rea-sons for using interest tes(s ar,e to isolate, evaluate, and utilize the findings showing aptitudes and interests which are required for the different types of occupations, An adequate testing program for religious communities requires the accumulation of objective, evidence regarding the competencies, weaknesses, and strengths of the candidate. The data should include information regarding the physical, mental, educatio;aal, vocational, and social status of the applicant. The findings need to be integrated as an aid in arriving at the most satisfactory conclusions. The obvious limitations of objective testing devices should be noted, but the failure to use them at all is almost certain to result in great inac-curacies of diagnosis, since personal observation and judgment are not completely reliable. Peace Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. OF ALL the good things the Savior desires for you, one of the .first is peace. "Pax vobis!" Those were His first thrilling words to the Apostles assembled in the Upper Room after His resurrection. You must ever strive to acquire this deep, interior, lasting peace--a calm, spiritual contentment--and it must influence your exterior actions by making them deliberate and quietly, al-though sensibly, precise. Walking in the presence of God and unceasing watchfulness over your tongue are two means of obtaining and preserving peace. They are particularly helpful, even necessary for you. And there are two secret societies which you may join to your great spiritual advantage, namely, the KYMS and the MYOB. Those letters mean Keep Your Mouth Shut andMind Your Own Business. The careful observance of these directives means greater peace of heart than you would at first believe. 81 WINFRID HERBST Review for Religious You have been a religious long enough to know the calm and contentment that comes to one who reposes trustingly in the arms of God. "Thou hast made us for Thyself, 0 God, and our hearts are not at rest until they rest in Thee." How well you have learned to understand and to feel this, even here below. From now on may yours be a lasting Pax in Domino. Remember the days when the thought of the eternal years, even with God, filled your soul With strange and crushing dread? It is a far cry from that day to this, when your soul is filled with peace and repose at the thought that you belong to God. How long it takes before we understand even a little! But, sometimes, after years of effort and meditation, a certain truth will come to life in a flash. In an instant we seem to realize--and the realization endures. Of late you have been much drawn to meditation on God, as He is in Himself, as thus set forth in glowing words by the Vatican Council: "The Catholic Church believes that there is .one true and living God, the Creator and Lord of heaven and earth, Almighty, Eternal, Immense, Incomprehensible, Infinite in intellect and will and in all perfection; who, being one, individual, altogether simple and unchangeable Substance, must be asserted to be really and essen-tially distinct from the world, most happy in Himself, and ineffably exalted above everything that exists or can be conceived." And then it came home to you with astonishing light and truth that this great God became also Man for love of you! And you profess your faith in the being and power of ~our God; you profess your hope in His wisdom; and you profess your love for Him as the Supreme Good. You pray to Him that He may ever give you the grace to rest peace-fully in the arms of His Providence--in a word, to be completely happy, satisfied, and content that you belong to God. The closer your union with God, the greater will be your peace of heart. You realize this; and that is why there comes from the very depths of your heart the longing prayer: "0 my God, would that I could attain my ideal in the matter of my daily Mass and Com-munion and Office; my evaluation of my vocation; the perfect ob-servance of the Rule; the most perfect observance of the vows, which make me a religious; the spiritual exercises of every day, all of them, during the whole time prescribed! How happy I would then be! My ideal is ever before me. It is clear and definite, outlined in my "law book," the constitutions. To reach it means sanctity. But strive as I may--and the past years have literally been years of be- 82 Ma~h, 195l PEACE ¯ ginnings--I do not seem to be able to attain the heights. Help me, my Savior, to go forward slowly but surely, in a calm, sensible, de-termined way. Come, Holy Ghost, guide me always through those who speak to me in conferences, sermons, chapter exhortations, con-fessional advice, retreat considerations, spiritu,al books--guide me always; for Thou knowest how much circumstances make it neces-sary for me to be thus guided by Thee. Then will I have that peace of heart which surpasses all understanding." Peace will abound in your spiritual life if you let your reverence for God manifest itself by recollection in prayer. Try every day to pray a little more than is necessary, in order to safeguard what is prescribed. And after reverence for God must come reverence for your superiors, who take God's place in your regard. Show them the utmost loyalty, disregarding their faults. Thereupon must come reverence for equals or inferiors. Be sure to treat them all with the deference and respect due to the chosen friends of God. And in all these things there must be respect for self. Of yoursdf you are indeed nothing; yet you must reverence yourself and have great confidence. You must be a worthy child of your Father in heaven. You must-not be a coward and thus seem to make a failure of Almighty God. Pray to the Savior that you may be thus reg, erent. Peace of heart can be lost by being so engrossed in the Father's business that you neglect your daily prayers and spiritual exercises, or at least perform them in a maze of distractions. That will never do. You must never lose yourself in external activity to the detri-ment of inward recollection and union with God." Never let your-self be permanently overwhelmed with work or business. No; rather your vocal prayers must be said without haste; your mental prayer must be calm and quiet, with a varied method and a generous ad-mixture of vocal ejaculatory prayers. Your meditation may not, week after week, be of that more-dead-than-alive sort. Remember, in a practical way, that one prayer is always good-~"Lord, teach us to pray." Let this be your determined resolution and an oft repeated re-solve, one that means great mortification and corresponding progress in the spiritual life: "No matter when or where, I will perform all my spiritual" exercises, eoert.I day, during the whole time prescribed for them, and with devotion." Failure to do this means dissatisfac-tion with self, letting oneself go, ~nd consequent misery because one is not what one professes to be. It is a hard resolution to keep, but 83 ANONYMOUS Review for Religious the peace of heart it brings--and glory of God--is worth it. Do not grow weary of being good. It may be that some day, for a moment at least, you will feel such a deep, personal, sweet, and de-lightful love for our dear Lord that, thus athrill with joy, you will realize for the first time in your life what heavenly happiness means, what bliss floods the soul when it is united with God. It may be a feeling of being in the arms of God, all enveloped by His love, all filled with a sensation of peace and satisfaction such as you cannot describe. And when yot~ are dying that same feeling just described may come over you, so that, exultant in the thought of going home to 3esus, flooded with spiritual joy, you exclaim, in the heart if not with the lips: "Oh, I did not think it was so sweet to die. I am so happy. I am so glad to go. My soul is enjoying a foretaste of heavenly peace." Why Do They Leave? [AUTHOR'S NOTE. The reflections that follow were partly (not only nor chiefly) prompted by two recent books. Though differing in many respects, both books tend to give an unfavorable impression of the religious life. La Nuit est ma Lu-mitre, by Dr. Etienne de Greeff, is a novel by a Catholic doctor-psychiatrist, who is a professor at Louvain University. Instructive in many respects, it tells some unpleasant truths about religious, but fails to do full justice to the Catholic con-cept of the religious life. It portrays "those terrible vows" as a source of medi-ocrity more often than not and maintains that only exceptionally gifted souls would find in" them the starting point and permanent inspiration for more than human greatness. The second book, I Leap ot~er the Wall, by Monica Baldwin, is more literary but less instructive. The well-known bestseller tells the autobio-graphical story of an ex-nun who left a cloistered convent in England in 1941 after twenty-eight years of religious life and struggles with the problem of re-adapting herself to a world where she feels altogether lost. The Rip van Winkle experience of ie-awakening to the world, and to a world at war, after twenty-eight years "sleep" is rather overdone. The author's references to her past religious life fluctuate between two tones: one of slightly ironical depreciation of the antiquated standstill in which the rules and customs, inherited from the Middle Ages, freeze the nuns: another of a sincere endeavor to give "worldly" people an idea of what religious life really is and of how it is possible to live and be happy in it.~The following reflections are written by one who stayed for twenty-eight years and hopes to stay for many ~EW religious live for long in any order or congregation without seeing some of their fellow religious leave. This happens espe-cially during the years of probation, before first or final vows. It is only natural and normal. Religious in training who find out 84 March, 19~ 1 WHY DO THEY LEAVE "they had no vocation" go back to the world. It also happens, con-siderably more rarely, after the last profession. We may not like to think of these facts, but we cannot help knowing them. Perhaps it is good~ just for once, to face them squarely. Why do these religious leave? We who stay are perhaps compelled to answer this question for ourselves. We may and do sincerely endeavor to give a charitable and supernatural answer. Yet, is it not true that these departures always leave some feeling of uneasiness, at times only slight, at other times, when the persons concerned are closer to us, more painful and persisting? We do not mean to say that every one of them shakes our vocation. The grace of our vocation, thanks be to God, does not stand or fall with what happens around us. But the events we are speaking of do not generally leave Us altogether unaffected. They at least provoke reflection and prayer. They Had No Vocation? Why do they leave? The answer to our que,stion is complex, for natural and supernatural reasons fuse. We must endeavor to put them down as simply and sincerely as we can. The truth, here as elsewhere, will be liberating. Why do they leave? Because, we like to think., they find out they had no vocation. Often, very often perhaps, that may be true. A religious vocation" is a grace, and because grace builds on nature and perfects it, the grace of a religious vocation supposes a certain natural foundation. Without this, nor-mally speaking, it can har'dly be genuine. To have or not to have a vocation means that God calls or does not call one to the religious state. But how do we generally come to know the grace God offers? The signs of a true vocation are normally these three: (1) natural and supernatural aptitude to live the religious life; (2) a right intention, mainly or chiefly (perhaps not exclusively), inspired by supernatural motives: and (3) the desire or will to answer the divine call. "Candidates have the natural aptitude when they are physically, mentally, and morally fit, that is, when they have suffi-cient heal~h, gifts of mind and education, and sufficient strength of character and freedom from habits and inclinations that are not com-patible with a life according to the vows and rules and are not likely to be corrected by the regular training. When at the same time they have a sufficient spirit of piety, self-abnegation, and apostolic aspira-tions, born from and nourished by regular prayer' and the reception of the sacraments, then their aptitude is also supernatural. Let such 85 ANONYMOUS Reoieua for Religious apt candidates intend to join a religious institute, not only nor mainly to find an honorable state of life, but chiefly to work out the salvation of their own souls and to do much good, whether to pray and study, or help the sick, or teach and educate the children, or to go to the missions; or more definitely because they believe, after reflection and prayer and taking advice, that such is God's will for them. Then they have also the right intention. It is then enough for them to conceive the desire to enter the religious state in one of its institutes, according to the guidance of Providenci expressed in the concrete circumstances in which they live: school, home educa-tion, contacts, examples, advice from parents or teachers. Their religious vocation then materializes into actual fact. Those who so join have the vocation. It is officially sanctioned, in the name of the Church and of Christ, when the institute accepts their profession. How then does it happen that some religious, after years of actual experience of the religious life, come to believe and to find out that they had no vocation? Normally that is found out before long. When any of the three mentioned factors of a vocation is lacking in a notable degree so as to arouse serious doubts about the genuineness of the vocation,, the religious in probation or their superiors will generally come to know this in the course of the years of training. That such a previous mistake was possible need not cause any sur-prise. What was an apparent vocation may turn out a failure and ¯ prove a'sbam vocation. True self-knowledge is rare especially in the young who have little experience of life and of men. They may have deceived themselves or have been deceived in good faith about their aptness 'for a kind of life of which they bad but little or only second-hand knowledge. Even spiritual directors may have been misled into believing in a vocation that later proves not to have been genuine. When this discovery takes place during the years of pro-bation, it is not abnormal, for such religious to return to secular llfe. But after years of professed life this discovery can only be excep-tional. If it were not so, it would mean that no one could have a sufficient human guarantee of a religious vocation, in spite of the official sanction of the Church contained in the very acceptance by the institute of the perpetual vows. This would go against the whble Catholic idea of a vocation. It would come to mean that, counter to the very belief of the Church, the approved religious institutes are hardly a safe way to Christian perfection. And so it can only be due to abnormal, personal or extrinsic, circumstances that religious failed 86 March, 1951 ¯ WHY DO THEY LEAVE to test sufficiently, during the years of probation, the genuineness of their vocation. They Lost Their Vocation Apart from such rare and exceptional cases', the reason why pro-fessed religious leave will more often be different. It will rather be because theg lost their vocation. Yes, that is possible. What do we mean by saying so? Nothing else but.that the three signs of a religious vocation mentioned above no longer exist. They may have existed in a remarkable degree. At the time they constituted a guar-antee of perseverance in a genuine vocation. But then a moment came, generally not before more or less conscious and guilty neglect of rather important duties, when a gradual decline of.the physical, mental, and moral fitness made the fidelity to the duties of the reli-gious state harder and harder. Till one day these religious find themselves nearly without desire for their state of life and tired of the many duties and occupations that have become almost mean-ingless to them. When natural and supernatu.ral aptness for the religious life have dwindled close to unfitness, it is hard for men to maintain a right intention in the state of life t6 which they were secretly unfaithful. It is then only one step 'for them to give up the desire of an ideal that is no longer their own. And another step to translate into action a listlessness that is but the reverse.side of a hidden new longing which has taken root in their hearts and driven out the former intention. Such religious leave bechuse they lost their vocation. Does this happen without any fault of their own? In some blatant and rare cases the loss of a vocation certainly involves grievous faults. That is beyond doubt when serious and repeated breaches of the vows, to the scandal of outsiders as well, lead to the 'dismissal. These breaches may be entanglements in money matters, or consist in infidelity to the second vow, or in more or less open revolt against obedience. But it probably may also happen without definitely grievous faults. Regular and protracfed unfaithfulness in relatively small ma~ters of religious observance may gradually lead to a kind of tiredness of the religious state which .becomes an ever growing unfitness. Only if this infidelity be persistent over a long period of time does it thus lead ~o disaster. God's grace is faithful and powerful and may easily prevent the worst. But when grace is resisted habitually and persistently, that infidelity may well strike the death blow to a religious vocation. 87 ANONYMOUS Revieu; for Religious When a vocation is lost before the final profession, there is more likelihood that it could and did happen without grave sin. The idea of temporary vocations which some theologians of the spiritual life are inclined to accept would favor the possibility of such cases. God may in His Providence prepare some people for the role He wishes them to play in the world by granting them the grace of a few years of religious training. There are many cases of men and women who tried the religious life and were led to give it up, but remained forever grateful to God for the years they spent in the cloister. But after the last profession when religious have bound themselves for ever, and when the Church, in Christ's own name, has accepted their self-oblation, the idea of a temporary vocation is well nigh excluded. Not absolutely, it is true, because it is possible, though not probable, that Providence prepares one for a plan of His own by a long religious training. His ways are not ours. Every-human rule is open to exception. In Terms o~: Human Psycboloqq The loss of a religious vocation translates in terms of spiritual theology what on the level of human psychology we hear expressed more bluntly by various reasons such as: they are not happy; theg have enough of it; the[l can no longer. Have we not heard some-thing like that after a fellow religious left? They were not happy in the religious life which did not suit them any longer. They felt themselves like square pegs in round holes, out of place, out of tune with their surroundings, their occupations, their duties. How could they be happy in a state which, they dislike and for which they are unfit? That feeling of unhappiness was not just a passing im-pression or temptation. It had grown into a habitual painful state, an obsession with the idea of out-of-place-ness which left them no rest nor peace. Who will wonder if they came to acknowledge to themselves that "they have had enough of it"? It is possible for men to endure passing interior trials valiantly. Both natural courage and the strength that comes from God's grace enable them to stand the purifying test of interior tedium and moral fatigue. That trial allows hope; sooner or later it passes and leaves deeper and firmer happiness. But when there seems to be no end to the feeling of unhappiness, when natural courage fails, even health at times partly failing as well, and when, because of unfaithfulness to God, grace does not come to give strength to those who refuse it, small wonder that they grow tired, over,tired, of an effort which 88 March, 1951 ~rHY DO THEY LEAVE? seems vain and meaningless, too tired to sustain it any longer. "They can no longer." When these religious con. less to themselves that something has snapped in their spiritual resilience, irretrievably, they are but a hair's breadth from "letting things go." That psychological downfall did not, of course, (ome all of a sudden. Its gradual preparation was slow, spread over many months or years. For quite a time they may hav~ been walking, or staying, just on the edge of the precipice. Had they been faithful to God in p?ayer so as to hear and accept the ¯ warning and the help of His never-failing grace, they would have had the light and the courage to withdraw from that state of danger. But unfaithfulness to regular duty cut them off from that source of strength. Left to themselves in their pitiful condition of weariness and loneliness they came to tell themselves that it really was too much, they could no longer. They dare to make this self-avowal because meanwhile another light dawned in their unhappy minds. They need not be religious to save their souls and serve God. In the world as well they can be good Christians, do their duties, and gain. their heaven. Rather than drag on an impossible life in the cloister, be happy and serve God in the world! Have they not been told: "Better be a good Christian in the world than a bad religious'"? They begin to see they must and will have the courage to face the situation and to change. Rather than cowardly hide to themselves and to others the real state of things and insincerely carry on a hypocritical staging of a religious life, they will have the courage to leave. And so they decided to leave. Disappointment Why then did they leave? If we read through the phrases they tell themselves and others to justify the step they take, their reasons will probably come down, in spite of surface differences, to one and the same: they felt disappointed with the religious life. The real, perhaps ~lmost unique, reason why some religious leave is, in the last instance, their disappointment with the religious life. They dreamed of an ideal life of service of God and of the neighbor: prayer, devotion, self-sacrifice, apostolate. They found a prosaic reality far remote, on the face of it, from the ideal of their dreams. Ordinary duties, long and at times dry prayers, painful and harassing community life, uninteresting and difficult fellow religious to live with, ungrateful and often monotonous work with little interested 89 ANONYMOUS Re~ieu~ for Religious and uninteresting people, and their best efforts and merits often, apparently, unappreciated and unrecognized. Yes, there is a difference between the ideal of the religious life, such as it is seen through the eyes of enthusiastic candidates, and the reality of the ordinary daily duties in the cloister. To young ideal-ists the religious observance looks attractive. When, in the actual practice of that life, religious stop at the surface only, the partly romantic interest soon wears off. Unless they penetrate deeper into the h~dden meaning of it all and discover in a genuine interior life nourished with prayer and silent sacrifice the hidden Treasure for whose sake they sold all their belongings, religious miss the point of their vocation. It was understood, of course, in their youthful dreams too, that a religious vocation implled many a sacrifice. But these very sacrifices wer~ made to look so attractive and interesting that they became just one more thing, somewhat unpleasant yes, which they were to carry off in their magnanimous stride towards the ideal. But in the reality of the life in the cloister once the novelty of the exterior duties has worn off and with it much of their natural charm and interest, what remains standing out above the rest is pre-cisely the painful side of uninteresting, unappreciated, ever recurring little (and at times bigger) sacrifices which these duties mean to self-love, self-esteem, self-satisfactlon. Unless then a deeper and more powerful attractiveness of the service of God and of men has replaced the former superficial charm, and has transformed the unpoetical reality of daily duties and sacrifices into the mysterious communion of divine love, human hearts are apt, if not bound, to feel disap-pointed. It is perhaps the common experience of religious that the reality of their vocation is very different from what they expected it to be. But it can be different in two ways. It is either much more beauti-ful and more worth-while than they ever dare to dream it; though this beauty is generally different than their half-worldly' minds once upon a time liked to fancy it. Or it is much less interesting and much more painful than they formerly imagined. Much better or much worse! Much better, if faithful to the grace of their vocation they succeed in unearthing the hidden greatness and happiness of a life of union with God, an anticipation of what He prepares for them in a measure surpassing all human understanding. Much worse, if unfaithful to the call of daily graces, they do not enter into the deep meaning of their vocation and stop less than half-way on their 90 March, 19 51 WHY DO THEY LEAVE ? march to the ideal. All they .find is the soon uninteresting, painful, boring, and finally unbearable burden of many meaningless duties. Can they feel otherwise than disappointed? Unseen--Unreal? If some religious lose their vocation, lose their fitness for its real life and grow disappointed, it is because they leave out of their lives the very substance of that vocation: the supernatural interior life of grace and of self-sacrifice which is the love of God. The religious life, limited to its superficial aspect only, is unable to satisfy the deepest aspirations of human hearts. For those for whom the unseen reality of the religious vocation is close to unreal, it is hardly possible not to feel deeply disappointed and soon to grow disaffected towards the religious life. Sometimes the disappointed religious unwittingly deceive "them-selves into believing that their disappointment does not lie with the ideal religious life such as it should be, but with the reality they found instead of it. Neither superiors nor fellow religious are found to be as they should. If only the institute were what its constitu-tions and laws claim it to be, they would not have been disappointed. There may be some good faith in this frame of mind. But it lacks realistic sense. Where is the human institution without short-comings? Are not these very deficiencies the matter out of which religious humility and perfection are built up? Had these religious not lacked the interior spirit, they Would have been able to see the great reality hidden under at times defective appearances. They would not have been blind to the great good that, next to the defects, is visible to every eye. That hidden reality does not disappoint. The feeling of disappointment and disaffection need not always be acute. Even when it is only partial but goes together, in rather shallow souls, with the need for a change that has been called the characteristic unsteadfastness of our war and post-war times, it may lead to the same result, the loss of the vocation. This need of a change works all the more effectively when after a considerable num-ber of years in the religious life a certain detachment from human ties has naturally followed on the actual separation from relatives and friends. If meanwhile no new higher attachment has taken the place of the old ones, as is the case in the disappointed and disaffected religious, then some sort of feeling of "being in the air" easily makes the balance of hesitation topple over. Perhaps it is the working 91 ANONYMOUS Reoieta ~:or Religious together of these different psychological factors that is actually the more frequent reason why some religious !leave. Why Do We.Sta~? They leave. We, with God's grace! stay. Perhaps we must conclude the above reflections by briefly answering another question that may have been sleeping at the back 6f our minds from the first and is by now wide awake: Why do u~e stay? We stay, because we believe in the grac! of our vocation. He who chose us knew whom He was choosing and He is faithful. We stay, because, with the help of that grace, we sincerely endeavor to make and to keep ourselves ever more fit, naturally and supernaturally, for the life and the duties to which He called us. We stay, because day by day, with the help of His grace, we work and pray and sacrifice to preserve our vocation. For in spite of passing weakness and for-getfulness, of neglect and of failing, of humbling faults, we know that He reads our hearts and sees the sin.cerity of our desires, even when they are hidden under negligence an'd human frailty. We stay, because we are happy in His service. With the help of His grace He led us to discover something of the hidden Treasure that is His love, His very Self. He helped us see and experience, at times clearly, at times in a hidden manner, through the veil of faith, the great joy and happiness of sacrifice out of love. He helped us discover Him, our Love, on the cross. He let us experience the puri-fying and deepening effects of trial and suffering which He sends in many different ways, but always as the cross-shaped sign of His love. Our love grows greater and stronger and deeper when te.mpered in the crucible of sacrifice. Even the natural joys and the natural hap-piness of the religious life--for there are these as well--are purer and nobler and more thoroughly satisfying when our hearts have shared in Christ's sorrows. Because of this great and unshakable happiness, we shall never, with the assistance of His grace, have enough of it. For unlike merely human happiness and greatness, which always bears the risk of saturation and fatigue, the spiritual joys of the Lord, experience has shown us, sharpen our hunger the more we happen to taste' of them. Even for our share in His sacrifice we shall never say: "It is enough, or too much." His grace helped us experience that the greater our actual share in His cross, the keener our hunger and thirst after justice. With the help of His grace we shall always be able to accept the small and large crosses He chooses for each one of 92 March, 1951 BOOK REVII~W$ us. Never shall we say, "We can no longer" because we know that He never asks for any sacrifice without also giving strength and happiness. We stay, because we are not disappointed with the religious life and we know that, with the help of His grace, we sha.ll never be. The Lord does not disappoint! The human realities of the religious life do and will, no doubt, remain human, that is, imperfect in many ways. We know that only too well, from ourselves to begin with, and much more from ourselves than from our fellow religious around us. But we also know that these very imperfections are not disap-pointing because we see them and at all times wish to see them in the light of His love that transforms them into the precious material out of which He builds true, unseen greatness. We are not disappointed because we love our vocation, such as it is, with the persons and the places° and the duties and the circumstances which His loving Provi-dence chose and chooses 'for ds. In the light and warmth of His love, radiating from His and our cross, we know that "it is good for us to be here." That is why we stay. With the heIp of His grace we shall stay on, and work and pray and sacrifice, till we hear another call of His; when He will invite Hi~ faithful servants into His own home. Meanwhile, in our prayers and sacrifices we shall pray that His mercy accompany the unfortunate ones who left and the more privileged ones who stay.--Quid retribuam? What shall I render in return? Book Reviews CATHOLIC SOCIAL PRINCIPLES. By John F. Cronln, S.S. Pp. xxvlll -~- 803. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1950. $6.00. Appendix~II of this book contains a 37-page annotated reading list. The length of the list is significant. It explains why many of us have experienced an increasing hollow feeling as we looked forward through the years to the day when we might.become well-informed about the social teaching of the Church. Through these same years .we have seen books and articles on the social question follow one another with such rapid succession that we wondered whether we should ever be able even to skim the surface of this literature. Realizing the Church's desire that we know her social teaching, and 93 BOOK REVIEWS yearning to fulfill this desire, yet we had to ask ourselves with a cer-tain helplessness, "What can one do to learn even the essentials?' One thing to do is to read this book. It will counteract the hol-low feeling with at least the wholesome food of accurate general in-formation on "The Social Teaching of the Catholic Church Applied to American Economic Life" (the subtitle). , So many and such comprehensive reviews of Catholic Social Prin-ciples have already appeared that it is unnecessary for me to give a detailed picture of it. The book is divided into three parts that move logically from the general to the particular. Part I gives general principles of Catholic social teaching: explaining the foundation, rejecting unsound theories, and culminhting in an exposition of the ideal social order. Part II considers concrete aspects of the social probiem (capital, labor, wages, unions, property, functions of Church and State) in the light of generai p~inciples. Each chapter of these first two parts begins with a compilation of pertinent au-thoritative statements, espec'ially those made by Po~es and hierar-chies. Part III surveys various attempts by American Catholics to formulate a salutary social program. There are three appendices, as well as an Index of Authorities and a General Index. The method of treatment is both expository and critical. The tone is moderate. "Extremes beget extremes," writes Father Cronin, "whereas modera-tion wins adherents." He should win many adherents. Experts in various phases of Catholic teachin[l might suggest improvements in Father Cronin's book when he touches on their respective fields, but they could hardly question its general excellence. I am content to recommend it without any reservation to religious superiors, teachers, and those engaged in the social apostolate. In fact, I would recommend it to everyone, but I thinkthose I have men-tioned would profit especially by reading it. And I should like to confirm this general recommendation with a number of quotations, but I have only sufficient space to refer to the question of our dealings. with workers. On this subject, which is certainly of great interest to all of us, Father Cronin writes (p. 360): "Problems connected with a living wage and the dignity of labor should be a special concern of priests and religious who are in the position of employers. In the past, our record in this regard has not always been good. Church institutions have at times been no-torious both for low wages and arbitrary practices, such as the dis-charge of workers who have given most of their lives to an institu- 94 March, 1951 BOOK REVIEW8 tion, and who are let out either because of old age or a change of administration. Cynics have remarked that some in our midst apply vows of poverty to workers, even though Canon Law makes no pro-vision for vicarious acceptance of religious vows. Undoubtedly, such situations occur with the best of motives. Church institutions rarely have adequate funds, so that their administrators understand-ably try to economize in the attempt to have the most money for the primary purpose of the venture. This would be especially true for schools, institutions of' charity, and even some parishes. Yet charity should not be served at the expense of justice. We should give good example in regard to the social teaching of the Church as well as in matters of piety. "Many bishops now require that wages and working conditions be considered in letting construction contracts. It would be most desirable that when bids are let, the award go, not to the lowest bidder absolutely, but to the lowest bid from a reputable firm which pays decent wages and treats it workers fairly. Likewise, the Church as employer cannot afford to lag behind in other phases of industrial relations, such as proper hours, working conditions, grievance ma-chinery, seniority provisions, protection from arbitrary discharge, se-curity for old age, and such normal features of reasonable employ-ment. These are usually matters of justice, not works of superero-gation. We should be more reluctant than lay employers to seek excuse from such obligations on the grounds that we cannot afford to meet them."--G. KELLY, S:'J. THE NUN AT HER PRIE-DIEU. By Roberf Nash, S.J. Pp. 298. The New-m~ n Press, Wes÷mlnster, Md., 1950. $3.00. This meditation book for Sisters contains an introductory chap-ter and forty-six meditations. The meditations are constructed along the lines of preludes and points; but the two preludes are called "Setting" and "Fruit," and the points are simply called "parts." Each meditation has three parts; and each begins with a preparatory piayer and ends with a summary of the points and a tersely-stated (sometimes only half-stated) thought called a "tessera.'" There is no colloquy; the nun is left perfectly free to formulate her own Oh's and Ah's at the conclusion of the meditation. The meditations contain too much matter for a single hour of prayer. The author recommends making them in parts, then re-peating; hence the book should furnish food for prayer for approxi- 95 BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious mately a year. The content is solid; the subjects are diversified; the treatment is sufficiently bright to ward off sleep during the time of preparing points. The book seems particularly apt for those who fol-low the method of "reflective reading" in making their meditation. And for those who prefer other met.boris of prayer to formal medita-tion it should be an excellent spiritual reading book. --G. KELLY, S.d. RECRUITING FOR CHRIST. By Godfrey Poacje, C.P. Pp. viii ~- 193. The Bruce Pu'bllshin9 Company, Milwaukee, 1950. $3.00. I opened this book with genuine enthusiasm. I had heard of Father Poage's splendid work in the promotion of religious and priestly vocations and I had seen his excellent booklets, Follow Me and Follow Him; and I expected something superb. But I closed the book with a feeling of disappointment. There is much wheat; but there is not a little chaff that should have been carefully removed before the book was published. The Introduction describes the tremendous need for more priests, Brothers, and Sisters,. and insists that there are vast numbers of latent vocations to meet this need, but these vocations must be fostered. The author concludes the Introduction by saying that it is already too long. I should say that it is too short. It is the best part of the book, and never once in the succeeding chapters does Father Poage rise to the same height. Subsequent chapters discuss the meaning of vocation to the priesthood and the religious life, the signs of such vocations, and ways of finding them among both boys and girls. There follow chapters offering suggestions to priests, teachers, and religious supe-riors for the successful promoting of vocations. There is an appendix on vocational clubs, an 1 1-page annotated bibliography of vocational literature, and an index. The book is replete with illustrative sto-ries taken from the experience of the author and of other successful promoters of religious and priestly vocations; and its main value consists in the lessons that can be learned from these actual experi-ences, The suggestions for teachers and priests should be very helpful; but I think that much of the chapter entitled "Suggestions for Supe-riors" will hurt or embarrass superiors, especially women. For example, there is the section dealing with the apparel that girls are 96 March, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS told to bring to the postulancy. It was with "bashful, bachelor eyes" that Father Poage (who seemingly had obtained the lists by pretending to be a girl aspirant) scanned these lists; and it is unfor-tunate that bashfulness did not guide his written comments. Concluding the paragraph about ill health as a barrier to a reli-gious vocation, Father Poage states summarily, "Invalids are not wanted." Besides sounding too harsh, this statement seems to need qualification. One purpose for which St. Francis de Sales founded the Visitation Order was to give certain types of invalids an oppor-tunity of serving God in the cloister. I do not have the exact words of the constitutions at hand, but the Catholic Encyclopedia says: "He exl~ressly ordered the reception at the Visitation not only of virgins but also of widows, on condition that they were legitimately freed from the care of their children; the aged, provided they were of right mind; the crippled, provided they were sound in mind and heart; even the sick, except. those who had contagious diseases." This is not the least of the charities for which the Catholic world blesses Francis de Sales. And I,,believe there are other institutes that are willing to waive certain physical disabilities in otherwise acceptable candidates. Regarding illegitimacy, Father Poage writes: "An invalid union makes the child illegitimate. This is an impediment to the priest-hood and religious communities." This is partly an oversimplifica-tion of the canon law on illegitimacy and partly incorrect. A child is legitimate when conceived of either a valid or a putative marriage. Moreover, if one who was born illegitimate makes solemn religious profession, he is by that fact legitimated, "and this would remove the irregularity for receiving Holy Orders without the need of a dispen-sation. As for entrance into religion, canon law does not make illegitimacy an impediment. I believe this should be specially noted, because many religious seem to have an erroneous notion in this mat-ter, When illegitimacy is an impediment to entrance into a certain institute, it is so by reason of the constitutions of that institute and not by reason of the. general law of the Church. And, even when an institute makes illegitimacy an impediment, superiors in the United States can generally obtain a dispensation from the local ordinary. It is understandable that a book which offers almost innumerable practical suggestions wouId offer some that would be open to dis-agreement. Father Poage calls attention to the fact that girls often enter the novitiate with the habit of smoking and he suggests that 97 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious superiors "obligingly set aside a smoking period for those who need it." Perhaps the phrase "for those who need it" places this sugges-tion beyofid controversy; yet I am inclined to think that those who need it would be rare indeed and that they might very obligingly do their "tapering off" before they enter the postulancy. Father Poage and I would practically reverse positions regarding ,association with the opposite sex before entering religion. He believes that aspirants to the priesthood or the religious life should cease associating with the 6pposite sex. And he apparently means not merely regular company-keeping with one individual but even dances and parties that include both boys and girls, for he tells one girl: "This does not mean you are to cut out" all fun and gaiety. Have a good time-~but with the girls and not the boys!" No doubt one could give good arguments to substantiate this view from documents of the Church and from the practice in some countries of having boys in apostolic schools and seminaries from their tender years. The Church encourages this, it is true. Nevertheless, normal social life at home or in a ~boarding academy or college is not the same as life in an apostolic school or seminary. And, at least generally speaking, it is part of the normal life of our high school and college boys and girls to attend parties and dances. A prospective vocation which could not hold out through such normal and wholesome associations would hardly be a true religious vocation, it seems to me. Obviously, I am not saying that there is nothing incompatible between planning to enter religion or a seminary and at the same time continuing an exclusive companionship with an individual of the opposite sex. Nor do I sponsor the advice that a boy or girl who has not heretofore associated with the opposite sex should "have a fling at it" before going to the novitiate or the seminary. But I see no need of discontinuing wholesome and general mixed-group rela-tionships merely because one is thinking of or planning on entering religion. Others may, and very likely do, think differently. The point is worth discussion. A final comment--a"fixed idea" of mine, if one will have it that. Throughout the book and even in his generic explanation of "voca-tion," Father Poage limits the term to a call to the religious life or the priesthood. In doing this he is conforming to a very widespread and popular notion of vocation. Yet I think that this restricted use of the term is both theologically inaccurate and psychologically harm-ful. Theologically, the term should embrace all states of life: and 98 March, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS psychologically it is immensely beneficial to use it as referring not only to the priesthood and the religious life but also to marriage and the single life in the world.--G. KELLY, S.J. PATROLOGY, I: THE BEGINNINGS OF PATRISTIC: LITERATURE. By Johannes Quasten. Pp. xvlii -I- 349. The Newman Press, Westminster, Md., 1950. $S.00. Up to the present, our patrologies have usually been works pub-lished in a foreign language and then translated into English. Now it is a pleasure to welcome a patrology published in English. It is also a pleasure to welcome a patrology which is the last word in sci-entific scholarship, interestingly written, and ~vhich always keeps, to the fore the needs of English-speaki.ng leaders. This first volume covers the beginnings of patristic literature. After an introductory chapter, the author takes up the Apostles' Creed and the Didache, then the Apostolic Fathers, Apocryphal Lit-erature, Christian Poetry, the Acts of the Martyrs, the Greek Apolo-gists, Heretical Literature, 'and Anti-Heretical Literature. The opening chapter is an admirable introduction to patrology and an up-to-the-minute and scholarly guide to research in this field. Besides dealing with the concept and history of patrology, the con-cept of a Church Father, and the language ' of the Fathers, it gives bibliography on the various branches of Ancient Christian Literature and on the doctrine of the Fathers, and lists editions and translations of Patristic texts. Then in each succeeding chapter an outline is given of the respective authors; each individual work'is studied and analyzed; to this is added information dealing, with the text, trans-lations, and studies of the documents; finally the outstanding fea-tures of the theological thought of the documents are discussed. Certain aspects of the work call for special consideration. An outstanding feature is its thoroughness. There is no document, in this early period or no problem concerning these documents for which one has not now a competent guide. A feature that is most welcome is the generous coverage of the theological thought of the authors. Thus--to illustrate--the thought of Irenaeus is presented on the Trinity, Christology, Mariology, Ecclesiology, the Primacy of Rome, the Eucharist, Scripture, Anthropology, Soteriology, and Eschatology. Finally, a new feature (which has long been desired) is seen in the copious excerpts from these ancient writings. The author is not content with telling what a certain writer thought, but 99 Book REviEws Review for Religious he lets him tell us in his own words. This isa feature that partly explains the interest and readability of this volume; it is this that makes the book not merely something which we use to consult, but something which we want to read for the joy found in reading it. It is easy to see how a book of this kind can be of great help to religibus. Those engaged in teaching patrology, dogma, or liturgy have a work that will aid them in research and in preparing their classes. No longer need we despair of having a patrology text that will interest students; no longer need the patrology manual be regarded as something as dry as dust. The religious engaged in teaching college have here a book that will have to be found on their reference shelf, a book "that will be very helpful in answering ques-tions about the Ancient Church. Finally, all religious will find here background for a better understanding of works which all through the ages have been spiritual classics; e.g., the Eetters of St. Ignatius of Antioch, the Acts of the Martyrs.--ALFRED C. RUSH, C.SS.R. RELIGIOUS SISTERS. An English translation of Direcfolre des Sup.erl. eures and Les Adaptations de La Vie Religieuse. Compiled by A. .Pie, O.P. Pp. xli -~- 313. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. $3.s0. Superiors, spiritual directors, and retreat masters who have good eyes will welcome this helpful, inspiring work. The book grew out of two symposia to help the religious women of France meet prob-lems created by modern conditions. The papers prepared by diocesan and religious priests werd first printed in La Vie Spirituelle. In the English edition the French article on psychology was replaced by the article by R. E. Havard, an English doctor. The book has five sec-tions: the theology of religious life, the office of the superior, the knowledge required by a Superior, the vocation and training of reli-gious and adaptations in modern religious life. When ~sked what she thought of the book, a religious superior who had read it answered that she had bought three more copies, in-cluding one for her Mother Provincial. She also said: "I found Religious Sisters most helpful, excellent. It is clear, complete, yet concise, and the high spirituality makes it a real inspiration. If I do not do a better job as superior now, I will not have the excuse I had before reading it. I cannot say any of the ideas were entirely new, but the detailed application of the principles and elements of reli-gious life were, in a number of instances, so new that I do not feel I 100 BOOK NOTICE$ have absorbed them in one reading." More readable print is certainly desirable and also a book of the same calibre that grew from American conditions, but in lieu of both, the book is recommended. The benefits derived will compensate for the temporary snow-blindness that results from reading the soft, light print.--J. BREUNIG, S.J. ,~OOK NOTICES OUR CHRISTIAN DIGNITY, by L. Semp~, S.J., adapted from the French by C, Vrithoff, S.J., is a little'work, comprising nine confer-ences in the form of dialogues between a priest and two young men, which could serve as a'highly informative and inspiring introduction to the grandeurs of the supernatural life. In a way that is both popu-lar and theological it presents the principal aspects of the Christian's deification by grace, and at the same time make,~ them so many most potent motives for actu,.ally living up to the sublime dignity that it confers. Thus it would provide spiritual reading of the best kind: full of dogma for the mind and of consequent force and enthusiasm for the. will. (Catholic Press, Ranchi, India, i945. Pp. 98. Rs. i.) THE TWELVE FRUITS, by C. J. Woollen, is no mere theoretical explanation of the fruits of the Holy Ghost, but a concre.te, practical exposition of the effects which these fruits should produce in every Catholic. As a 'result, the book makes interesting and profitable spiritual reading. In dealing with the fruits a writer is faced with a real problem to distinguish patience from longanimitg and mildness or to show how continencg differs from ebastitg, but the author suc-seeds in making plausible distinctions between them. More. emphasis is placed on the fruits as effects to be produced by their possessor than on the benefits which accrue to him .from their, possession, though this second aspect is not entirely neglected. The chapter on patience is particularly well done. (New York: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., 1950. Pp. viii ÷ 184. $2.50.) GUIDE IN MENTAL PRAYER, written 'by the Very Reverend Jo-seph Simler, fourth superior general of the Society of Mary (Marian-ists), was intended originally for use within that congregation. But others also came to know about it and to find it helpful, and now in this revised English edition it is mad~ available to all. No one 'book on mental prayer is ideal for all the very different mentalities of 101 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS men and women who cultivate that difficult art, but this one, simple, practical, and definite, should, it seems, prove very useful to many. It promises success to all who really have good will. A point that it emphasizes particularly is the importance of faith for growing in the ability to meditate. (A Grail Publication, St. Meinrad, Indiana, 1949. Pp. 167. $2.00.) In J~_SUIT BEGINNINGS IN NEW MEXICO Sister M. Lilliana Owens, in collaboration with two Jesuits, presents the first of a series entitled "Jesuit Studies--Southwest." The book is an ungarnished historical account. A hitherto unpublished diary of the mission of New, Mexico comprises half of the book. [El Paso, Texas: Revista Catolica Press, 1950. Pp. 176. $2:00 (cloth); $1.50 (paper).] A very valuable addition to .the literature on vocation is VOCA-TION TO THE PRIESTHOOD: ITS CANONICAL ~CONCEPT, A Histori-cal Synopsis and a Commentary, by .Aidan Carr, O.F.M.Conv. Dr. Cart investigates his problem from the po!.nts of view of history, theology, and canon law. His conclusions se~m to clarify and syn-thesize what was best in the pri.ncipal p.revio;is works on the subject. Directly or indirectly this study should be a precious aid to the many men and women who teach boys and thus have something to do with fostering and discerning divine calls to the holy priesthood. (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1950. Pp. viii + 124. $2.00.) , BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices ate purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] BOOKMAN ASSOCIATES, New York. Like Clean Winds. By Sister Louise Agnes Morin, C.S.J. An-other convincing contrast to I Leap o~;er the Wall. "The story of a Sister who entered the convent to give herself to God and was not surprised to find what she sought--a life of renunciation." The book is illustrated by Michael Lyn Genung. Pp. 63. $2.25. Savonarola. A verse play in nine scenes by Wallace A. Bacon. This play won the Bishop Sheil Drama Award of the. National Catholic Theater Conference in 1946. Pp. 128. $2.50. CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY PRESS, Washington, D. C. Orestes Brotonson's Approach to the Problem of God. A critical 102 March, 1951 BOOK ANNOUNCHMHNT$ examination in the Light of the Principles of St. Thomas Aquinas. By the Reverend Bertin Farrell, C.P. A dissertation. Pp. xiii ÷ 140. $1.75. THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. The Familg Rosarg for Children. By Urban Paul Martin. A Sister of Charity has significantly illustrated the purpose, history, and method of praying the Rosary, as well as each of the fifteen mysteries. This booklet will help boys and girls understand and pray the Rosary. Pp. 71. $1.00. Watchu~ords of the Saints. A Thought for Each Day of the Year from the Writings 6f the Saints. Collected by Christopher O'Brien. Pp. 73. $1.50. Our .Ladg's Slave. ;The Story. of Saint Louis Mary Grignion De Montfort. By Mary ~abyan Windeatt. Illustrafed by Paul A. Grout. Pp. 201. $2.~. B. HERDER BOOK COMPaNY,'St. Louis, Mo. Art and Beauty. By Maurice De Wulf. Translated by Sister Mary Gonzaga Udell, O.P. In this volume a philosopher of re-nown considers the basic principles of art. Pp. ix q- 213. $3.00. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Catechism o~: the "'Summa. Theotogica'" o~: Saint Thomas Aqui-nas. By R. P. Thomas Pegu~s, O.P. Adapted from the French and done into English by Aelred'~q'hitacre, O.P. A condensation of the Summa in catechism form. A reprint of the work first published in England in 1922. Pp. xvi + 315. $2.75.' Shepherd oF Untended Sheep. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Tia.nslated from the French by Sister James Aloysius. and Sister Mary Generosa, Sisters of Divine Providence. This is the first biography in English of a Vincent de Paul of the eighteenth century, John Martin: Moye, priest of the Society of the Foreign Missions of Paris, missionary to China, and founder of the Sisters of Divine Providence. Pp. xv 180. $2.50. ST. FRANCIS BOOK SHOP, Cincinnati 10, Ohio. Walk with the Wise. By Hyacinth Blocker, o.F.M. This book presents forty-eight storles from the live's of the saints in very pal-atable capsule form. The treatment is marked by originality, fresh-ness, and a relevance to the present day that cannot b~ missed. Pp. x + 240. $2.75. 103 COMMUNICATIONS Reuieto for Religious THE SENTINEL PRESS, 194 E. 76th St., New York. People and the Blessed Sacrament. By Martin Dempsey. Our Lord never wanted the devotion to the Blessed Sacrament to stop in the vestibule. Father Dempsey shows how the Eucharist can influ-ence the entire lives of all: the bootblack, the doctor, the housewife, the college student and so forth. Should be good material for Forty Hours talks. Pp. 95. $1.50 [cloth] : 50 cents [paper]. JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., New York. Make Way for Mary. By the Rev. Ja'mes J. McNally. With a foreword by the Most Rev. Christopher J. 'WeldOn, D.D. A series of talks deriving from the Gospels of the Sundays of the year and showing the place of Mary in the Catholic's life. Pp. 272. $2.75. Commun{cal:{ons Reverend Fathers: In reply to,y.o.ur note concerning information on the question of vocations from Catholic Colleges which appeared in the November issue Of R]EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, the following is presented. The statistics are given under the headings suggested in the letter signed "A Teaching Sister" and represent, as requested, the last ten years. ~,, Education Contemplative Social WorE 1941 ~, 4 0 0 1942 6 0 I 1943 5 0 0 1944 , .6 I 0 1945 IO 0 0 1946 13 0 0 1947 9 0 3 1948 4 I I 1949 15 I I 1950 13 I I Total 85 4 7 Left II 4 0 74 0 7 Total to enter religious life 96 Number to leave IS Persevering 81 104 March, 1951 COMMUNICATIONS The facts have been listed for each year because we feel they are significant of changes made in 1940. During that summer, under the direction of our Very Reverend Mother Marie de St. ,lean Mar-tin, O.S.U., Prioress General of the Ursullnes of the Roman Union, a study of the Traditions of the Orderwas made in the light of con-temporary problems. (cf. Ursuline Method or: Education, Marie de Saint Jean Martin, O.S.U., Quinn ~3 Boden Company, Inc. 1946.) It might be well to sthte that these changes were not made all at once but gradually and not without difficulty-. Under the heading of, creating a Catbolic Atmosphere and assuming that we are striving to give a profound intellectual formation, they may be summarized thus: ~ 1. Religion Courses centered in Christ;'a course in Church His- . tory in junior year; a course in the spiritual life in senior year. 2. Liturgy: Missa Cantata and Compline sung daily by those who wish to participate; on Sundays and feast days Vespers and Compline. ~ ~3. Oppqrtunity for daily confession and spiritual direction. Daily meditations are made for those who wish to learn how to meditate; these are followed by special written 'ones and gradually, with help, many students make a daily meditation. 5. Guidance: each student is given or chooses if they wish a spiritual mother. 6. Sodality: limited to those who desire to lime an interior life and to participate in the apostolate. 7. Specialized Catholic Action.: Young Christian S~udents. It is to be noted that the statistics reveal .an increase .in religious vocations with the classes which were the first to graduate under the new policy.--MOTHER MARIE THERESE CHARLES, O.S.U. Reverend Fathers: In response to your invitation to correspondenc.e regarding the article on "The Deafened Religious" in the oNovember issue, I should like to share some good news. There is fenestration surgery now to cure the type of deafness known as otosclerosis. Any otologist can diagnose this mose prevalent kind of deafness. Nearly every large city has a surgeon trained by Doctor Julius Lempert of New York, who perfected the operation some twelve years ago. It consists in making a new window in the inner ear bone to connect with the auditory nerve. Although a most delicate operation requiring some 105 QUESTIONS AND/~NSWERS ' Ret~ie~ for Religious time to recover, it is worth all the misery of accompanying sea sick-ness, due to drilling through the equilibrium center. I was losing my hearing for twenty-three years and wore-a hearing aid for twelve years. Doctor Howard P. House, 1136 West Sixth Street, Los Angeles 14, California, performed such skillful surgery on both my ears in successive summers, that I now have normal hearing. I was able to discard the hearing aid after the first operation. Much of the success would normally be due to the condition of the nerve, hence it is important to have the surgery done as soon as otosclerosis is detected, before the. auditory, nerve begins to atrophy. I find that this operation is comp.aratively unknown, so I should like to broadcast the almost miraculous .results to your readers. I cannot be grateful enough to God, Doctor House and my community for my return to normal communication. It is a new life. --S~STER M. CATHERINE EmEEN. S.H.N. ( ues ions and Answers ~7~ May a local superior who had been appointed for one year to fill out the incomplet.ed term of his predecessor, and who was then reappolnfed local superior for. one three-year term, be now reappointed for another immediate term ~:F three years in.the same house? If not, may he be ap-pointed for an additional two years to make up a' fatal of six years? Canon 505 forbids the same religious to act as local superior of the same community for more than two terms of three years each. The emphasis in the text "term of three years" (triennfum) is not on the word term, but upon the entire phrase--term of three years. The Code does not forbid three terms of two years each, but excludes more than two terms of three years each in the same house, that is, more than six continuous years as local superior on the part of the same religious. In the case mentioned, therefore, the superior may be reappointed to a new term of two years, which will complete the six continuous years allowed him in the same house. 8 If a religious under temporary vows develops bad.health, or becomes a mentalcase, and, as a result, is refused perpetual vows, is the commun- 106 March, 1951 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS ity to which he belonged bound to take care of him after sending him away.'? What if his physical or mental condition was doubtful during the novitiate and he was allowed to make his tempo'rary profession as a trial to see how he would make out? Once a novice is allowed to make his profession of~first tempo-racy vows, poor health, whether physical or mental, is no longer a reason for refusing either a renewal of temporary vows or the pro-fession of perpetual vows, much less al reason for dismissal (see can-ons 637 and 647, § 2). Hence superiors may not allow a novice t

Issue 9.1 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; A. M. D. (J. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1950 Three Sacramental Characters . Clarence McAuliffe The Spirit of Poverty . Edward F. Garesch6 Hope . . C.A. Herbst Holy Year of 1950 . l~mile Bergh Questions and Answers Book Reviews Communications Report to Rome VOLUME IX NUMBER 1 RI:::VII:::W FOR RI LIGiOUS VOLUME IX JANUARY, 1950 NUMBER 1 CONTENTS THE THREE SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS-- Clarence McAuliffe, S.J . 3 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTY AND MODERN TIMES-- Edward F. Garesch~, S.J .19 HOPE~. A. Herbst, S.J . 25 THE HOLY YEAR OF 1950--1~mile Bergh, S.J .3.0. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Signatures on Petitions to the Holy See . 39 2. Secretary-General's Work Assigned to Another . 39 3. Effect of Simple Perpetual Vows of Nuns . 40 4, English Translation of Unigenitus Dei Filius . 40 5. Lay Sisters and the Little Office . 40 6. Gifts to Priests and Benefactors . 41 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 41 COMMUNICATIONS . 42 BOOK REVIEWS-- Secrets of the Interior Life; The Lord is My Joy; St. Ignatius of Loy-ola; The Priest at His .Prie-Dieu; The Mystical Evolution in the Develop-ment and Vitality of the Church . 43 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 48 BOOK NOTICES . 50 REPORT TO ROME . 52 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January, 1950, Vol IX, No. 1. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press," 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as se.cond class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.3., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 1950, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length,, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Review t~or Religious, Volume IX January--December, 1950 Published st THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHER. S SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St. M~rys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX The Three Sacrament:al Charac!:ers ¯ :~l~r~nce McAuliffe, S.J. o IN RECENT YEARS much has been" written about the super-natural organism which God confers upon the baptized and continues to develop in them as long as they are free from mortal sin. We know that this organism consists basically of sanctifying grace, to which are joined the three tbeologlcal virtues of faith, hope, and charity, the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost, and probably also the moral virtues of justice, prudence, temperance, and fortitude. However, strange to say, we hear little about some other super-natural entities which also flourish in the soul and which have an intimate relationship to the supernatural organism. These entities are those seals or ma~ks or characters that are stamped upon the soul by the sacraments of baptism, confirmation, and holy orders. Every Catholic has at least the character of baptism. Most Catholics also have that of confirmation, while that of orders is reserved to those comparatively few men who have been ordained bishops or priests or, at least, deacons. Although the proof for the existence of these characters stretches back to the earliest sources of tradition and even has a scriptural foundation, the Protestant leaders of the sixteenth century denied the existence of every one of them. To offset this heresy, the Council of Trent issued the following definition: "If anyone says that in the sacraments ot: baptism, confirmation, and holy orders, there is not imprinted on the soul a character, that is, a certain spiritual and indelible sign by reason of which they cannot be repeated, let him be anathema." It is, therefore, of faith that these three sacraments impress characters on the soul; that for this reason the same sacra-ments cannot be received more than once; that the characters remain on the soul at least throughout this life. Moreover, it is certain that the characters cling to the soul for all eternity. Perhaps one of the reasons why we hear comparatively little of the sacramental characters is to be found in the fact that, though they have a bearing, a close relationship, to the supernatural organism, they are not components of it. They can be present when the organism is absent; and, contrariwise, though more rarely, the organism can be present when they are absent. Suppose we give a few examples to illustrate these two facts. First, the character or CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review t~or Religious characters can be present when the organism is absent. A baptized and confirmed Catholic may banish his supernatural organism. By mortal sin he drives out sanctifying grace, the virtue of charity, the gifts of the Holy Ghost, and the infused moral virtues, leaving to his supernatural organism only its rudimentary elements of faith and hope. Even these he can expel by .committing sins directly opposed to them, such as apostasy and despair. Nevertheless, the characters of baptism and of confirmation remain in his soul. They cannot be removed even temporarily, much les~ can .they be deleted, by any action of man whatsoever. Again, let us suppose that an adult sinner is about to be b.aptized. He wants the sacrament and the priest administers it properly. But the recipient is not sorry for his mortal sins. In this case he truly receives the sacrament of baptism and can never receive it again. He also receives the character whose coming depends solely on the sacrament's validity. Yet such a man does not receive the supernatural organism until he makes fin act of at least imperfect contrition, since the fruitfulness of baptism in such a case demands this disposition. Meantime he possesses the character. Secondly, the organism can be present when the characters are absent. For instance, a pagan or catechumen may before baptism make an act of'perfect love of God or ot: perfect contrition. At once he receives the supernatural organism, but not the character. It is true that the coming of the organism is not entirely independent of the sacrament of baptism (he must have wanted it at least implic-itly) ; nevertheless, since he has not received the sacrament as such, he has not received its character, as this can be produced only by actual reception of the sacrament. Again, it is evident, since it happens so commonly,, that a baptized Catholic can keep and develop his super-natural organism even without the characters of confirmation and orders. Hence, the organism can be present even when some charac-ters or all of them are absent. From all the preceding examples it is clear that the characters, though they have a relationship to the supernatural organism as we shall indicate later on, do not enter into its composition either sub-stantially o~ accidentally. We may infer from this truth that the effects of sanctifying grace and of the characters differ also; and this is correct. The effect of sanctifying grace is of far superior dignity to that of the characters. By grace we t.ruly, albeit feebly, share in God's own life. We become "sharers in the divine nature" (II Pet. 1:4). We become God's adopted children, so that, through God's own positive ordination 4 danuar~J, 195 0 SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS and liberality, we are enabled to place acts that merit in strict justice an increase of grace and a higher reward in heaven. The sacramental characters on the other hand, though they confer an exalted dignity, bestow one of far inferior rank. By them we share in the priesthood of Christ. We.are empowered to place not merely private but public acts expressive of divine service. Only those who have received the characters can place these acts, at least officially. We shall explain more definitely later on the acts of divine service that are proper to each of the characters. So far we have mentioned three of the principal differences between the characters and grace. Characters come from a valid sacrament; grace comes from a valid and at the same time fruitful sacrament. Characters can be produced by sacraments only; grace can be obtained and increased without actual reception of a sacra-ment. Characters grant us a share in Christ's priesthood; grace makes us sharers in the divine nature. But there are also remarkable similarities between grace and the characters, especially if we consider them in their internal composi-tion. In the first place, both grace and the characters (and this is most important) are ph~lsica! realities. To understand this better, let us suppose that we have just witnessed .the baptism of a baby. It has received' the character and it has also received grace, since the soul of an infant has no obstacle to its infusion. If we were able to see the baby's soul with our bodily eyes, we would notice two startling changes in it at the instant of baptism. One of these would be the sacramental character. If the soul looked dark before baptism, we would now notice that it is tinged with a golden hue, the character of baptism. The second change would be the presence of sanctifying grace. Though the baby's soul appeared alive and active with a natural life before its baptism, it now appears vigorous, palpitating, endowed with a superior kind. of life far surpassing its .natural capacities. Yet we should notice that the newly bestowed color and the freshly infused life are really distinct from each other, though lodged in the same soul. They are both objective and. physical realities. They both truly transform the soul. They be~5~.~e.part of it and alter its appearance. We have all learned that sanctifying grace is such a physical reality, but we may not realize that so too are the sacramental characters. "For though outwardly we are marked on the body (by the sacramental rite), nevertheless we are, as a matter of fact, marked interiorly so that the Spirit delineates within us the representation of a heavenly picture," says St. Ambrose. 5 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Reoiew for Religious Of course, the illustration used in the preceding paragraph has its defects. We have used it simply to exemplify that grace and the characters are both physical realities. Since, however, the soul is a spiritual substance without quantitative parts, it follows that both grace and the characters, inhering in the soul as they do, must also be spiritual or immaterial. Hence no bodily organ could possibly per-ceive either the soul or its grace or its characters. They are beyond sense cognition. The soul's existence we know both by reason and by revelation. The existence of grace and the characters we know by revelation alone. Again, both grace and the characters are accidents. By this we do not mean that they come by chance, since it is plain that they result from very definite channels established by God. We simply mean that they do not alter the essence or substance of the soul. Whether a man smiles or not, whether he is tempted or not, whether be has pneumonia or not, whether he is black or not, he remains none the less substantially a man. In the same way, the human soul remains essentially the same whether or not it ever receives grace and the characters. Furthermore, not only are grace and the characters accidents in the senses just explained, but they are the same general kfnd of acci-dent. Accidents can be classified into various distinct groups. It is not necessary to consider all these here. If a man uses his vitality to smile, he is accidentally changed by the accident called "action." If he weighs 200 pounds now, be is accidentally changed by the acci-dent of "quantity" from his condition of one year ago when he weighed only 185. If his skin is brown from a sun tan, it differs accidentally from its preceding pallor. This last example denotes a change in the skin's quality, and both grace and the characters are classified in the accident called "quality." They answer the question: What kind of? Just as there are differences in the quality of nearly all material things so that our foodstuffs, our clothing, even our medicines are graded according to quality, so too our souls, both in the natural and supernatural orders, are qualified in various ways. When a soul is gifted with either the characters o~ grace or both, it receives fresh supernatural qualities. It, so to speak, looks better, though it remains substantially the same'soul. Finally, both the characters and grace, when the latter proceeds from a sacrament, are brought into being by the same kind of activity on the part of the sacrament. Suppose we again represent to our-selves a baby being baptized. God is the principal cause both of the 6 ,January, 19 5 0 SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS character and of the grace which it receives~ But God has imparted to baptism the power of producing its essential effects automatically. Spontaneously and as an instrumental .cause in the hand of God, baptism infuses grace into and'chls61s the character upon the baby's soul. At1 of us know this well with regard to the infusion of grace (cf. "'Ex Opere Operato," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Sept. 1947, pp. 257-271), but we may not have been aware that the characters are produced in the same way. So much for the inner nature of the characters and for their simi-larities and dissimilarities with reference to s.anctifying grace. It might be well at this point to speak about their function. According to the Council of Trent each of the characters is "a kind of spiritual sign." They are spiritual signs because, unlike the sacramental rites which produced them, they are imperceptible, impervious to sense cognition. Nevertheless, they are signs just as truly as the rites themselves. They must, therefore, perform the function of every kind of sign, which, is to inform. Just as the address on an envelope gives notice of the letter's destination, just as a kindly smile gives notice of a person's good will, so too the characters lead to information beyond them-selves. To what kind of information do they lead? Before answering this question specifically, it might be well to say that like most other signs the characters give more than one kind of information. Consider again the address on an envelope. The primary information learned from it is the letter's destination. But it gives other information also. It tells us that the sender knows how to write or type. It tells us whether the sender writes a good hand or a poor one, whether he types accurately or not. It even tells us something about the condition of his pen or typewriter. All such information is revealed to us by the same sign, the address on the envelope. In the same way the characters, too, afford us more than one kind of information, as we shall explain after answering an objection which might easily come to mind. This objection is not concerned with the characters considered in their intrinsic nature. So considered, it is evident that they are bles-sings. They are God's creation, His gifts, and they adorn the soul. Like grace itself, they are physical supernatural realities, beautifying the soul, and hence they perform a manifestly useful function. But granted this, the objection would protest that the characters consid-ered precisely as signs are of no utility. By its very nature a sign is something that can be perceived. Its purpose is to give us informa-tion about something else. If, then, we cannot sense a sign, it can CI~AR~NCE McAULIFFE, ¯ Review for Religious give no information and hence would seem to be utterly useless as a sfyn. Applying this to the characters, we are forced to acknowledge that they cannot be perceived. They are beyond our sense .cognition. Hence viewed precisely as siOns, they are useless for men in this world. They are also useless for God who knows all things without the'intervention of signs of any kind. They are also useless for the angels and the beatified since these probably can recognize the bap-tized, the confirmed, and the ordained without the medium of the characters. Hence these marks on the soul, granting their intrinsic value, might seem completely useless to perform their function, of signs. Yet it is of .faith that the characters are signs. How do we explain this legitimate difficulty? First, the characters are directl~r perceived in living men by the angels and beatified; and, since the characters remain imbedded in .the soul forever, they will after judgment day be directly apprehended by all angelsand by all the beatified. They will be objective tokens of glory in the elect and tokens of shame in the damned. It will remain true, of course, that the angels and beatified could recognize the elect even though they did not have the characters. But the charactem lend a definiteness, a concreteness to this recognition, and hence they are not useless as signs. When we attend a college gradua-tion, we know full well who the graduates are when we see them seated on the stage and observe each one receive his diploma. But we do not think it useless, nevertheless, to garb them in cap and gown for the occasion. This uniform has a pointed significance. It-tells us more vividly what we already know, namely that those so dressed have successfully finished their college course; and so it is not useless. It is a'praiseworthy rational instinct to confer some kind of insignia on those who deser,qe special recognition either by reason of some office obtained or of some meritorious action performed. In His dealing with men God respects this instinct. Since the baptized, the confirmed, and the ordained are charged with special duties toward God, we would expect Him to bestow the characters as a kind of insignia. The characters denote the duties of their recipients in a very precise and formal way, and so are not useless even as signs. Secondly, in answer to this objection, we may. say that even in this world the characters as signs are indirectly apprehensible by other men. We can know with certainty that those who have received baptism, confirmation, and orders are marked with these signs. As a result, we are able to distinguish those who have received these sacra-ments just as though we saw the signs themselves. Lest this answer danuar~J, 19fi 0 . . SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS might seem a kind of subterfuge, iet us consider a couple of examples drawn from signs that exist in this world, signs instituted by men. We may know that a veteran of World War II was decorated with the .Congressional Medal of Honor. We know the man, though we have never had occasion to see his medal.' Yet because we know on the word of others that the medal was certain!y bestowed on him, we treat him just as though we saw tbe medal itself. Again, a motorist may be told by his companion not to turn left at a certain corner because thatparticular street is being repaired. There is a sign on that street to this effect, but the motorist has never seen it while his companion has. Realizing that his companion is telling the truth, the motorist does not turn atthat'~grner. He acts just as though he himself has seen the sign with his bwn eyes. In other words, the sign is by no means useless to the driver even though he knows its existence only by human faith. Reliance on the word of another is a sure proof of the existence of a sign just as is direct perception of it by the use of our own senses. Similarly the characters are indirectly apprehensible by other men and so they are not useless. Finally, the presence "of the characters on a soul has a special salutary effec~ both with regard to temptations of the devil and to the reception of help from the good angels. The characters are a help against diabolic temptation. Speaking to those about to be baptized, St. Cyril of 3erusalem says: "The Holy Spirit is at hand, prepared to mark your soul, and He gives you a kind of heavenly, divinely-produced seal which the demons dread." St. Gregory of Nazianzen speaks similarly when he declares: "3ust as a sheep which has been branded is not so apt to be stolen, whereas an unbranded one is readily taken by thieves, so the seal is a great protection to you even in this life." The characters also prompt the good angels to render special assistance to their bearers. "How will the angel help you unless he perceives the seal?" exclaims St. Basil when speaking of the benefits of baptism. Since, therefore, the characters as signs repel.the demons and invoke the help of the good angels, it is plain that they are not useless. They are like a letter of recommendation. For this reason and th~ other two previously explained, the objection that characters are of no use precisely as signs is groundless. We are now in a position to answer the question posed abo;ce: Since the characters are truly signs, what kind of information do they give us? What do they signify? According to theologians they have a fourfold signification. First, they are signs by which we can dis-tinguish men of one class from those of other classes (siqna dis- CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious tilgctit~a) ; second, they oblige their recipients to perform certain duties (signa obffgativa); third, they indicate that they should always be accomoanied by sanctifying grace (signa dispositioa.); finally, they signify that their bearers share in Christ's priesthood and have a right to 19erform certain functions of this oriesthood (signa cont~quratioa). This last is the primary signifi:ation of the charac-ters; but, since it requires longer treatment, we sk~all deal with it after the others. The characters, then, are signs by which Christians are distin-guished from non-Christians and also from one another. They ful-fill this fianction as effectively as a Sister's habit distinguishes her from other women, as effectively as the habit of one order distin-guishes its members from those of another order. "How," asks St. Basil, "will you say 'I belong to God' unless you wear the marks that distinguish you?" And St. John Chrysostom declares: "Just as soldiers are marked by a kind of brand, so the faithful a~e marked by the Holy Spirit . Circumcision was the sign of a Jew; the seal of the Spirit is our sign." By the character of baptism a person is marked as God's special property and is 'irrevocably set apart from the unbaptized. The character of confirmation not only separates the Christian from the non-Christian, but also draws a distinct line between the confirmed and the baptized. Whereas all the baptized are recognizable as citizens of the heavenly kingdom, only the char-acter of confirmation clothes these citizens in the uniform of a soldier. Finally, the characters issuing from the diaconate, the priesthood, and the episcopate not only distinguish a man from unbelievers, but they likewise separate him from the baptized and the confirmed. Furthermore, since the sacrament of orders has three distinct species, each of which impresses its own character, the character of the priest identifies him as on a higher plane than the deacon, and the character of the bishop marks him off from the priest. Just as officers in the ar.rny wear special insignia to differentiate them from privates and from one another, so the sacrament of orders confers special insignia, the characters, for the same purpose. The character of the diaconate might be compared to the chevrons of a sergeant[ that of the priest-hood to the insignia of a major; that of the episcopat~ to the stars of a general. Thus it is true of all the characters that they serve the function of badges or uniforms. They enable us to identify their various recipients according to official rank. How appropriate it is for God so to designate His followers according to their official status is evident from the legitimate instinct of human nature which 10 danuary, 1950 SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS likes to see officials, whether of the state or any Other society, marked by some kind of sign or emblem. Secondly, the characters are signs that their recipients have certain duties to perform. We read of certain saints who inscribed indelibly on their flesh the name "3esus" as a sign that they obliged themselves to wholehearted service of Him. No less'is the character an objective sign that its bearer must be .devoted to God's interests. It could happen rarely, of course, that a person would be unaware that he had been baptized and so would be ignorant of the duties imposed upon him by his character. It could also happen that a Catholic, fully aware of the characters he has received, might renounce his faith and neglect God's interests completely~ Nevertheless, the characters remain objectively on the soul and give notice that their possessor should be active in God's cause. This significance cannot be in the least impaired by ignorance or neglect ot: it. Hence the characters denote that their bearer is obliged to keep the Ten Commandments, the precepts of the Church, the essential duties of his state in life. He is obliged, in other words, to do everything to keep himself in the state of grace. While this is true particularly of the character of baptism, it holds for the other characters also. However, since confirmation implies a more intimate consecration to God than baptism, it imposes additional obligations. Baptism imposes the duties of a subject; confirmation imposes the duties of a Christian soldier who is officially obligated to suffer for his faith and to promote its spread. Finally, the character of orders symbolizes the sturdiest allegiance to God since its recipients are obliged as officers and ministers of God to strive for perfection and to communicate spiritual blessings to other men. Again, the characters are called "disposing signs." This means that they make the soul ready to receive supernatural benefits, espe-cially three of them. First, not only do the characters demand that their recipients keep in the state of grace, as we have just seen, but they are such by nature that they, so to speak, expect sanctifying grace to be in the soul along with them. They have a special affinity to grace. We have already seen that grace and the characters are not not necessarily co-existent, but such a condition is an objective deformity. Every character lends supernatural beauty to the soul. But this beauty is incomplete, it looks to a complement. Indepen-dently of all obligation to remain in the state of grace, the character is such by nature that it points to the coming of grace to cap its beauty. If a man builds a new home and then furnishes it to the last detail, we would not say that it is absolutely necessary that some 11 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review ~o~ Religious one should come t6 live in it. But we would say that dwellers are expected. A new, completely equipped home is disposed, so to speak, for human habitation. In the same way the presence of the charac-ters, even of baptism alone, gives the soul a disposition, a readiness, for the influx of sanctifying grace. A lock without a key is an incon-gruity. So is the character unless its count.erpart, sanctifying grace, accompanies it. Again, the characters are "disposing signs" inasmuch as they put the soul in condition to receive certain actual graces. The three sacraments of baptism, confirmation, and orders confer automati-cally at the time of their reception a lifelong title to the bestowal of actual graces which may enable a person to achieve the purpose of each sacrament. Thus by reason of baptism we receive automati-cally throughout our lives actual graces which enable us, dependent on our co-oper~ition, to maintain the state of grace. From our con-firmation of many years ago we still receive spontaneously actual graces that strengthen us to suffer for the faith ~nd to diffuse it. It is a solidly probable opinion in theology that this claim to actual graces is founded on the sacramental characters. These characters put the soul in such a condition that it, so to speak, expects to be benefited with this continual flow of' actual graces, and God, seeing, this condi-tion of the soul, is moved to help it'generously. Finally, .the characters are also "disposing signs" because; as we mentiofied previously, they-so condition the soul that the" devil .is more reluctant to assail it. and the good angels are more ready to assist it. In addition to being distinguishing, obligating, and disposing gigns, the characters also indicate that their' possessors' are deputed to take part publicly in one or other of the external ministries entrusted to the Church by Christ Himself. This seems to be the primary purpose of the characters and it is pithily expressed by theologians generally when they say that by the-characters we "share in the priesthood of Christ." Hence the characters are called "con-forming" signs (signa cont~guratiua), since they confer a certain resemblance to.Christ as Priest. What this means in a general' way is explained by St. Thomas as follows: "The sacraments of the New Law produce a character, insofar as by them we are deputed to the worship of God according to the rite of the Christian religion . Now the worship of God consists either in receiving divine gifts, or in bestowing them on others. And for both these purposes some power is needed; for to bestow something on others, active power is 12 danuarv, 1950 ' SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS necessary; and in order to receive, we need a passive power. Conse-quently, a character signifies a certain spiritual power ordained unto things pertaining to the divine worship." This likeness to Christ the Priest which is the special significa-tion of the characters is also a new and unmerited resemblance to God Himself. By our human nature, especially by its faculties of mind and will, we are true though faint images of God, the Creator. By sanctifying grace our resemblance to God is enhanced beyond our powers to understand, since by grace we are enabled to place mental and volitional acts which are elevated to a divine level. By the char-acters also we achieve a new and distinctive likeness to God under another aspect, one of lesser nobility than that bestowed by grace but far surpassing the merely natural likeness that results frdm creation. Whereas grace gives .us remotely the power to know and love God with a knowledge and love similar to that which the Three Divine Persons exercise towards one another, the characters, on the other hand, make us like to God in one of the many powers which He exerts outside Himself, that is, in the power which He wields in the sanctification of men through tl~e visible and public ministry of the Catholic Church. This power far transcends our capacities as mere men in the natural order. It is true, of course, that by nature alone we share i;~ God's power exercised outside Himself, inasmuch as we can place acts that are attributable to ourselves. But this is a purely natural participation in God's power, one due to us by the very fact that we are men; whereas the power conferred by the characters is supernatural, beyond our deserts and abilities and needs. Moreover, the power proceeding from the characters is concerned with the supernatural sanctification of men and is bestowed immediately by God Himself, whereas any religious power which men might receive in the natural order would be concerned with merely natural sancti-fication and would be granted bya natural society such as the state. It is clear, then, that by the characters we are authorized officially to promote the supernatural sanctification of ourselves and others. We become God's instruments in this exalted work. This dignity was won for us by the merits of Our Lord, Christ as man, the priest par excellence, made priest by the very fact of the hypostatic union. Thus we say-correctly that we are empowerd by the characters to share in the priesthood of Christ, to continue it visibly and publicly in this world. It should be noted, however, that the word "priesthood" in the expression "sharing in the priesthood of Chlist" is used in its general, 13 C~LARENCE MCAULIFFE Reoieto for'Religious not in its strict meaning. Taken strictly, the word "priest" signifies one who has been officially designated as a mediator between God and men and who exercises this mediatorship particularly by per-forming the rite of sacrifice. It is evident that the characters of bap-tism and confirmation bestow no such priesthood since their posses-sors ar~ not mediators between God and men and cannot celebrate the Mass. Hence the Holy Father in his celebrated encyclical Mediator Dei of two years ago says that the people as distinguished from priests are not "conciliators between themselves and God" and "do not enjoy any priestly power." However, the words "priest" and "priesthood" also have a more general meaning. They may be used to include all the visible minis-tries confided to the Church by Christ. These visible ministries are threefold, since they comprise the powers of ruling, of teaching, and of sanctifying by liturgical acts of worship. When, therefore, theo-logians say that the characters, including those of baptism and con-firmation, are a sharing in the priesthood of Christ, they are using the word "priesthood" in this general sense. They simply mean that men are deputed by the characters to exercise more or less one or other of these powers. They are entitled to participate, each according to his degree, in at least one of the three powers of ruling, teaching, and sanctifying which comprise the Church's visible ministry. Since, then, it is certain that the characters grant such power, we naturally would like to know precisely which of these sacred func-tions can be legitimately performed by each individual character. Suppose we begin with baptism. This character confers mainly a passit~e or receptioe priestly power. By this we mean that the charac-ter of baptism enables one to receive both divine and ecclesiastical benefits; in other words, to be the beneficiary of the teaching, ruling, and sanctifying powers enj.oyed by the Church. By baptism we come under the Church's jurisdiction or ruling power. We are entitled to listen to her counsels and instructions, to benefit by her teaching power. By this character we are entitled to assist profitably at Mass and to receive the other sacraments. Confession, confirma-tion, extreme unction would be empty .formulas, hollow shells deprived of all spiritual efficacy, if they were administered to the unbaptized. As regards the Mass, it is true, of course, that a pagan may assist at it and should be urged to do so. He may even benefit spiritually if he is prayerful while there. But he cannot profit directly from the Mass considered precisely as the Christian sacrifice, simply because he has not the character of baptism. Any benefits he receives 14 January, 19~0 SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS will come to him from his t~ersonal devotion, a devotion that may perhaps be stimulated by the ceremonies of the Mass, but which can-not grasp the automatic direct fruits of the Mass, since these are reserved to the baptized alone. So, too, with regard to purely ecclesi-astical benefits. The Church limits them to persons having the bap-tismal character. Only they can.gain indulgences. Only they have a claim to her special intercessory powers when they make use of sacra-mentals. Only they have a right to Christian burial, and so on. However, it would not be correct to say that the character of bap-tism grants only passive powers. It is true, of course, that the share of the baptized in the ruling power of the Church is purely receptive. The baptized have the right and duty to obey, not to command. It is true also that the baptized possess only a passive share in the teaching power of the Church. They are to receive instruction, not to give it. This does not mean that the baptized may not teach the faith to non-Catholics or even to Catholics, as is done laudably at times. But when the baptized do teach others about the faith, they do not act in an official capacity because their character does not e.mpower them so to act. Only the character of confirmation enables one to act officially as an instructor of the faith, and even the con-firmed can do this only in a limited degree, that is, subject to their bishops and pastors. But the character of baptism does confer some active share in the Church's power to sanctify through her liturgical worship. This does not hold for the sacraments of confirmation, the Eucharist, penance, extreme unction, and orders, whose valid ministration demands the character of orders.1 Neither does it hold for baptism because, although a lay person may validly and, sometimes, even licitly baptize, this power is not to be attached to the baptismal character, since even a-pagan can validly and sometimes licitly admin-ister this sacrament. Nevertheless, this character enables all the faithful to perform an active function when they assist at Mass. Twice in his encyclical Meditor Dei the Holy Father declares that by their baptismal charac-ter the faithful can actively offer up the Mass through the priest and 1As regards the Eucharist, we mean that the character of the priesthood is required to effect the presence of the Sacrament. In exceptional circumstances the laity could distribute the Sacrament to themselves and others. We sometimes read that by an active power of the character of baptism spouses are enabled at the time of marriage to bestow on each other the grace flowing from this sacrament. This is not certain, however, since the baptismal character may merely make it possible for the spouses to receive the graces of the sacrament. In this case the power of the baptismal character would be only receptive or passive. 15 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious in a certain sensealong with him. They can offer through the priest because he alone, by reason of the character of the priesthood, is the only real minister under Christ of the sacrifice. Hence only through him can the baptized act since they are powerless "to place validly the visible rite of sacrifice.' However, when at the double consecration, in which the essence of the Mass 'consists, the priest effects the pres-ence of the Divine Victim by the symbolic slaying and the visible presentation or offering of the Victim to God, he acts as the repre-sentative of all the people. Hence the people too should assent internally to what the priest alone does externally. The p.eople too should in spirit present or offer up Our Lord to the Father. In this way they offer along with the priest. Moreover, they should also foster in themselves at Mass the dispositions which Our Lord as principal offerer certainly has and which the human priest should also have, namely, dispositions of adoration, humility, thanksgiving, reparation, and petition. In this sense also, the baptized offer the Mass along with the priest. Concerning'the character of confirmation it should be noted that its power is not mainly passive, or receptive of spiritual gifts like that of baptism, but it is, on the contrary, entirely active. Furthermore, the objects upon which the powers of this character are exercised are not, as in the case of baptism, sacred rites such as the sacraments and sacramentals. Confirmation is not concerned with the liturgy, but with the courageous maintaining and propagation of the Catholic faith. It confers on its recipients through the character a share not in the ruling or sanctifying powers o~ the Church but in its teaching power only. Confirmation, if its character is used rightly by co-operation with the actual graces spontaneously flowing from the sacrament, transforms the spi.ritually feeble infants of baptism into spiritually rugged adults. I.t advances the baptized from the status of civilians to that of soldiers. Soldiers can bear witness to the beliefs of the country for which they fight either by suffering for these beliefs or by actively striving to inculcate them in others. Hence, first of all, the confirmed are officially authorized by their character to testify to the truth of C~th-olic teaching by suffering any evils whatsoever that befall them because of this teaching. These evils in the moral sphere may range from slights to insults, to detraction, to calumny, even to social ostra-cism. In the physical order the Catholic may by reason of his faith be visited with such sufferings as unemployment, double taxation, and bodily afflictions including even martyrdom itself. But the con- 16 ,lanuary, 1950 SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS firmed person professes by his character that he will bear, at least patiently, all such wrongs. Secondly, the confirmed have the official right and duty to engage in the spread of the faith under the guidance of the hierarchy. Hence confirmation is often called today the sacrament of"Catholic Action," although this appellation does not express its entire scope as is evident from what we have already said. By good example in his private life, by positive action and speech in his public life, the confirmed is entitled and obligated to further the interests of the Catholic Church. A minute's reflection reveals the immense scope of this duty. It com-prises anything from giving a beggar a cup of coffee to establishing a house of hospitality or founding a Catholic school; anything from passing on a Catholic periodical to writing and publishing a Catholic book. Finally, it should be remarked again that the confirmed are o~ciall~ deputed to suffer for the faith and to-promote its spread. The character of confirmation is something like the seal of a notary public. This seal duly stamped changes a private document to an official one. So too the seal of confirmation lends an official status to the works it enjoins. This point is of some importance since it is plain that the merely baptized are obliged in certain circumstances to endure wrongs for their faith and to diffuse it. But they have not -bden otEcialty authorized to do so. Moreover, the faithful who have not yet been confirmed are not expected to engage in Catholic Action to the same extent as the confirmed. These latter should be on the alert for opportunities to spread the faith. The graces issuing from the sacrament will provide this alertness if they are used. Confirma-tion supplies much more copious actual graces than baptism with regard to bearing suffering for the faith and to laboring for its spread. For these reasons we see how futile is the objection that the character of confirmation is unnecessary because the baptized have already been charged with the same rights and obligations. Comparatively little need be said about the sacrament of orders whose three characters are imprinted successively by the diaconate, the priesthood, and the episcopate. It is clear that the powers con-ferred by these characters are active or giving powers and that they are exercised primarily, though not exclusively, in the placing of liturgical rites. Hence those who have been marked with these char-acters share in Christ's priesthood, principally by sharing in the Church's function to sanctify. The character of the diaconate empowers its possessor to assist officially at solemn religious cere- 17 SACRAMENTAL CHARACTERS Reoieto t~or Relioious monies such as solemn Mass. He may also with permission distribute Holy Communion and administer solemn baptism. The priest by his additional character becomes capable of offering the Mass, of forgiving sins, and of administering.other sacraments and also some sacramentals. Thus he too shares in the sanctifying power of the Church and in a much higher degree than the deacon. Finally, the bishop sh'ares in the sanctifying power of the Church in the highest degree since he can perform all the sac~ed ministries proper to the priest, and, besides, he alone is the ordinary minister of confirmation and the sole minister of the sacrament of orders. Hence, once a man has been elevated to the episcopate and has been endowed with all the sacramental characters, those of baptism, confirmation, the diaconate, the priesthood, and the episcopate itself, he shares as fully as possible with the sole exception of the Supreme Pontiff himself in the priest-hood of Christ. If we reflect for a moment on the functions of the characters of baptism, confirmation, and orders as we have explained them, we shall understand to some extent why the other four sacraments do not imprint a character. We know by faith that they do not, and knowing this we can find plausible reasons why they do not. None of them confers on its recipient a new, official statas in the Church ~it large. Holy Communion is intended for personal sanctification by uniting more intimately with Christ those who use its actual graces. Penance aims at freeing the individual fr6m mortal and venial sins. Extreme Unction has the private function of comforting an indi-vidual when he is in danger of death, the biggest crisis of his life. Finally, matrimony does not seem to confer a new status in the Church at large. Granted that the graces bestowed by this sacra-ment affect more than one person. They come to both husband and wife for their mutual benefit and that of their children. But they remain within the family circle. They do not pass beyond its bor-ders and enable the spouses to share in the teaching or ruling or sanc-tifying power of the Church viewed as a society. The graces of matrimony have a purely domestic function and do not look directly to the welfare of the Church as a whole. Hence even matrimony does not make the spouses official functionaries in the.Church as do baptism, confirmation, and orders. Undoubtedly some aspects of the sacramental characters will always remain a mystery in. this life. But theologians are at present devoting themselves to them energetically in order to clarify them yet more. All admit that the characters are qualities, but no agree- danudry, 1950 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTY' ment has yet been reached as to the exact kind of qualities they are. Much more, too, should be learned if possible about their relation-ship to sanctifying grace, to the infused virtues, and to the gifts of the Holy Ghost. Theologians are perplexed also by the relationship between the characters and actual graces, especially 'those actual graces that automatically flow from each sacrament received. We are not certain of the exact kind of distinction that flourishes between the various characters. We do not know whether they are vested with a physical or only a moral efficacy. " Even the objects for which the individual characters are given need greater precision. Hence v~e have avoided disputed questions as far as possible and have simply exposed many of the certain facts about the characters. These facts are enough to make us heed the admonition of St. Paul: "And grie;ce not the holy Spirit of God; whereby you are sealed unto the day of redemption" (Eph. 4:30). The Spiri!: ot: Povert:y and Modern Times Edward F. Garesch~, S.J. RELIGIOUS life is the same in its essentials all over the Catholic world.It consists of life in a community with the thre~ vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience under a lawful superior. Ever since the early days of the Church, when consecrated virgins grouped together to begin the cenobitic life or life in a community, these essentials have been preserved. The first consecrated virgins lived in their own homes, devoting themselves to good works. Then came the solitaries, who withdrew from the world and lived in deserts and hermitages so as to devote themselves more completely to contemplation and prayer. After a long time religious communi-ties were begun. These at first were chiefly contemplative. By degrees the monasteries grew to be centers of help for the poor, the sick, and the unfortunate; and the monks became the supreme copy- . ists and preservers of ancient manuscripts and writings. In those simple times it was not difficult for the monk to keep both the letter and the spirit of his vow of poverty, and the religious women were equally fortunate. Personal possessions had not multi- 19 EDWARD F. GARESCHI~ Rev~e~u [or Rel[gt'c!us plied as in our time; the needs of life were simple. It was no prob-lem to decide what to keep and what to give up when the opportuni-ties for possession were few and when all lived together in great simplicity. But as the communities of the mixed life, devdted in large measure to active works of charity, began to multiply, and as their good works sl~read over the Christian world, the spirit of poverty was threatened. With the increase of comforts and even luxuries religious had to exercise greater self-denial in order to keep the spirit of poverty. Thus, even good men who were bound to poverty accumulated personal gear far beyond their needs. In the life of St. Catherine of Siena is told the amusing story of the great theo-logian who visited Catherine's little group in order to try her spirit. But the saint turned the tables on the good man by telling him, "Father, your cell is filled with luxuries. You have splendid tapes-tries and fine furniture which do not become a man vowed to poverty. First set );our own life to rights and then come and judge of mine." The good father was filled with the grace of God at these words of the saint. Full. of confusion, he summoned one of his monks and said, "Go home at once to my cell and remove therefrom everything that is contrary to the spirit of holy poverty." Then he remained to listen to the converse of St. Catherine and became a member of what she called her "family" of devout souls who accompanied her wherever she went and shared in her good works. In our times, both necessities and luxuries have multiplied to such a point that there is still more need to understand and practice the spirit of true poverty. To use things as wg should, to take advantage; in reason, of all the modern discoveries which make work so much more effective and can thus. multiply our efficiency, and yet not to depart from the spirit of religious poverty is a much greater problem now than it was in simpler days. What then is the spirit of poverty, and how can we best practice it? First, we had better consider what the vow of poverty imposes. According to Pope Pius IX the simple vow of poverty which is taken by religious in congregations consists in this that the religious are deprived of the right to dispose [reet{i of anything.1 In thus giving up the freedom to dispose of things of value we make a great sacri- 1Everything said in this article applies with even greater force to religious with the solemn vow of poverty, for such religious have lost the right even to own property. 20 danuary, 1950 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTY rice to God of that impulse we all have to gather possessions and use them as we like. Being thus subject to the will of the superior, we ask permissic;n for any expenditure or use of property outside the regular and understood routine of our community life or office. This permission can of course be presumed in certain circumstances, but all our expenditure and our use of things valued in money is with the permission of superiors, either expressed or implied. This is the extent of the vow. But the virtue of poverty goes much farther. The purpose of both the vow arid the virtue is to make us more like Christ. We know that Our Lord lived a life of willing poverty. He called attention to the fact that while the birds have their nests and the foxe, s their lairs, the Son of Man had no place to lay His head, no dwelling that He could call His own. St. Francis of Assisi used to' deligh.t to remember that the Lady Poverty, after accompanying Our Lord all His life long, ascended. with Him to the cross itself and was with Him to the end. For He died' stripped of all things. Even for His clothing the soldiers had cast lots. No human b~'ing was ever richer in His own right than Our Lord. All the splendor and the wealth of the world were His by the right of creation. When therefore He gave up all possessions and lived a poor life all His days, His was the greatest of all poverty. And note that Our Lord did really live the life of a poor man. He trav-eled on foot. He had no permanent home. He ate the bread of charity and was clad in the garments of the poor. His apostles and disciples, who accompanied Him in His labors and journeys, lived likewise. Now the spirit of poverty is motived by a desire to imitate Our Lord as closely as we can in His renunciation of the things of this world that are valued in money. Because He loved us so much as to give up those comforts and splendors which were His by right, we desire to make a voluntary sacrifice of the comforts and luxuries which we might have had if we chose, and to be more like Him by becoming poor in spirit as He was poor for our love. If we could have seen the little group which accompanied Our Lord during His public life, we would have remarked that they were all simply dressed, that they walked along the dusty road while the rich drove by in chariots or rod~ on mettlesome steeds, that the food they ate was the usual nourishment of the poor. To imitate Our Lord, there-fore, we have to do likewise according to our circumstances and with 21 EDWARD F. GARESCHI~ Review for Religious due prudence and discretion. Note that the life which Our Lord led, as shown in the Gospel, was a life that can be imitated by everyone. He lived in the midst of the people. He went to weddings and to banquets. He had His purse to pay the way of Himself and His associates. Thus His poverty was not an obstacle to His ministry. In fact, it was a great help, for He and His companions were freed from many cares which an accumulation of valuable possessions would have put upon them and which would have distracted them from their holy ministry. Those who desire to imitate Our Lord will have His spirit of detachment from and indifference to expensive comforts and posses-sions. They will live and act like poor men and women, using money and everything that is valued in money only insofar as it helps their service of God, is needful, and is approved by those who take the place of Christ. They will use nothing as their own, and therefore will be careful and economical in the use of material pos-sessions. They will be liberal and kind to others, but careful and strict with themselves. Thus they will ever draw nearer to the loving pove.rty of Christ. The motive of this self-sacrifice and self-discipline in the use of material possessions ought to be the love of Our Lord for His own sake. Because He is so lovable, we desire to imitate and please Him to the utmost. He h~is said to us, through the young man who was rich, "If thou wilt be perfect, go sell all thou hast and give to the poor; and come, follow me." We answer Him, Master, go on, and I will Follow Thee 7"0 the last gasp, with truth and lo~talty. In our day, of course, when so many new needs have been devised, when there is such an abundance of all luxuries, when new inventions constantly supply new helps and conveniences in every .department of life, it is much more difficult to maintain the spirit of detachment, frugality, and willing poverty than it was in simpler times. The poorest community of our time enjoys luxuries which were not found in the palace of King Herod. Hence the practice of poverty is relative to the condition of the time. What would seem luxuries in Our Lord's day are bare necessities now. Yet the spirit of poverty remains the same. There is one prac-tical way to practice the spirit of poverty which has many advan-tages. This is to make it a point to be careful and economical in all things and for the love of God. Economy is a virtue which wastes 22 January, 1950 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTY nothing of value, uses nothing out of its due proportions. Those who are economical go to excess neither in saving nor in spending. They measure their expenditure by the exact need of the community or the individual. To be either too saving or too lavish in spending departs from the spirit of poverty, because it is a misuse Of material things, an abuse of the goods of the community according to one's own whim. To save where we should spend, to deprive others of-what they need, is wrong. It is also wrong to waste and spoil, to use more than necessary, to spend, money or thinl~s valued in money without suf-ficient reason. Economy, therefore, and diligence in the use of material things, both motived by the love of God, are a great help to the observance of the spirit of poverty. St. Ignatius tells his sons to love poverty as a mother and to desire at times to experience some of its effects. This is a most prac-tical direction. Our love for our mother makes us remember her, desire her presence, love her company. Those who love poverty as a mother will take an inward pleasure in having only what is needful, in using everything with care, and in practicing an exact economy. They will prefer simple and less expensive things, wear clothing so long as it is wearable, avoid personal expenses when they can safely be dispensed with. They will go to great pains to plan and manage so as to avoid useless expenditures, and they will do this out oflove for the poverty of Christ, out of devotion to Him whb willingly did all these things for us though He is the creator and owner of all the wealth of the universe. They will also wish to experience some-times the results of poverty. In a prudent and discreet way they will give up expenditures which might be comfort-making and agreeable but are not truly needed. The spirit of poverty is a source of immense merit because by the consistent and reasonable practice of poverty we become more and more like Our Lord and united to His Sacred Heart. It is also a great help to apostolic work and to prayer. Those who are always thinking about getting more conveniences and luxuries for them-selves, who accumulate personal gear and chattels, and plan to have more luxuries and gratifications lose in peace of mind what they gain in passing satisfaction. They have to take care of all these things, which takes time and effort. They are uncomfortably aware of- how different their life is from that of Christ. To obtain money for their purchases and outlays requires energy and effort that might be used 23 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTY Review [or Religious in other more profitable ways. They put a burden on their superior by asking permissio.n for things which are very dubiously necessary, and by wanting to make expenditures which do not agree with the spirit of religious life. A reasonable and religious poverty is a great edification to the people, who keenly observe how religious act and live. If they see them simple and frugal, undergoing a little mortification for the sake of poverty, and glad and cheerful in their renunciations of the expen-sive and luxurious things of this life, they are edified and helped to bear their own wants and needs. With all our advance in social jus-tice, a great part of the population is still chro'nically in want. It comforts and helps them to see others living by choice a life of" fru-gality and self-sacrifice for the love of the poor 3esus. The spirit of poverty is also the endowment of the work of religious. The reason why small groups of religious men and women are able to build up such great charities, such remarkable educational institutions, such hospitals and refuges is the willing and systematic frugality, poverty, and economy of the religious themselves. If it were necessary to staff all these schools, hospitals, and institutions with paid' lay workers, the ad'ded financial burden would be enor-mous. In the missions also the far-extended program of education and health is endowed by the spirit of poverty of the missionaries. In proportion as the members of the religious communities are indi-vidually pdssessed of this spirit, the growth of all these good works is helped and fostered. The widespread and ever-growing demand for religious to staff so many important activities is a testimony of the efficacy of religious poverty. Moreover, the individual religious is set free from the many anxieties, labors, and trials which the need of making a living bring to the majority of mankind. As to the treasure in heaven laid up by all this loving self-sacrifice of frugality and economy, it must be immensely great. For to have the true spirit of poverty means a constant resistance to the inclination which everyone has to possess more and more, to have dominion over more and more, to do what one likes with one's own. The individual religious should have very little difficulty in deciding whether he or she has this spirit of poverty. The answers to a few simple questions will determine the fact. "Do I habitually practice a prudent economy and self-denial in everything that has to do with the spending of money or the use of things valued in money? 24 January, 1950 . HOPE Do I wish at,times to feel. some inconvenience, some. difficulty such as the poor experience when they have to economize for want of enough money,? Do~.I submit myself.in all things to the dominion.of my superior in what-concerns the spending of money or the use of things valued in.money? Do I waste or give away or" destroy or spoil or lose anything .of money value?". It m.ay seem to some readers too simple a solution of the some-times difficult problem of the spirit of poverty to make economy and care in the use of things valued in money, and.of money itself, a standard and. means.But consider the matter practically. Is it not true that most of the faults against the,spirit of poverty come from lack of economy chat i~ motived by love of Our.Lord, and a lack of proper subjection to, the .will of the superior? Is it not true also that the religious who is. careful, frugal, and .conscientious about expenditures:of money or.the use of things valued in. money is usu-ally. also possessed of .the spirit of poverty.? There is little need there-foie Of subtle distinctions and finespun, reasoning about this beautiful virtue. .Those ~who are careful, and frugal in their use.of.material things, who are .subject ,inthis use. to the will of the superior for the love and imitation.of Jesus Christ, can have the consolation that they are practicing the spirit of poverty. ope C. A. Herbst, S.J. ~V/E HEAR MUCH about faith and charity. We should. Faith ~is the foundation of justification. Without it we can do nothing to please God. Charity is the greatest of the virtues and. the fulfilling of the law. About hope we do not hear so much. Yet it, too, is a theological or divine virtue, has God for its object; and His perfections--His power, His goodness, His fidelity--for its motives. St.Paul mentions it in the same breath with the other two: "Now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three" (I Cor. 13:13). In ancient Christian symbolism we find with the cross of faith and the heart of charity the anchor of hope, "an anchor of the soul, sure and firm" (Heb. 6:19). "Faith begins, .charity completes,.,and hope is the bond between them." Hope is the first 25 C. A. HERBST Ret;ieto /:or Religious princess of the realm, standing close to charity the queen and helping to make possible her reign in souls. Hope is love of God for our own sakes. Not that it excludes God, but it does decidedly include self. It is that "imperfect love by which someone loves something not for itself but that good may come to him from it" (S. Th., 2-2, q. 17, a. 8), "The love of hope certainly terminates in God, but self has likewise a part i.n it; we behold the Almighty without losing sight of our own interests, and our motive in tending to Him is, that we may one day possess and enjoy Him. It inclines us to love God, not because He is sovereignly and essentially amiabl~ in Himself, but because he is infinitely good to us. Thus you perceive, attention to our own interests is mingled with our love for God. It is a real love, but a love of concupiscence, in which our own concerns have a great share . When I say I love Go'd for my own sake, I mean, that I rejoice in reflecting that God is my inheritance, my sovereign good, and as such worthy of being ardently desired." (.St. Francis de Sales, Love of God, chapter 17.) And so this love for God is, one might say, selfishness, but a g6od selfishness, and in this case the very best kind of selfishness. I want from God, God Himself, to be eternally possessed in perfect happi-ness. Intimately bound up with God, the object of our hope, are the means necessary to attain Him. If we want Him we must want them. "He who wills the end wills ~he means," says the philos-opher. °These means are goods both supe~rnatural and natural which will bring us to Godin eternal life. We want especially the super-natural ones because these by their very nature lead to everlasting happiness. Some are absolutely necessary as, for instance, the two we ask for in the ordinary act of hope: "I hope to obtain the pardon of my sins and the help of Thy grace." As we always need the help of God's grace for any supernatural act, we must use prayer, the ordinary means of grace, and the sacraments, the extraordinary means, if we want to get to God. With these helps we shall be able to observe the commandments of God and the precepts of the Church, fulfill the duties of our state in life, follow the divine inspirations. But we may also hope for natural and temporal goods since, as St. Augustine says, "Those things pertain to hope which are con-tained in the Our Father"; and when we pray: Give us this day our daily bread, "according to the interpretation and authority of the holy Fathers, we ask those succors of which we stand in need in this 26 ,lanuar~l, 1950 HOPE life; and those, therefore, who.say that such prayers are unlawful, deserve no attention. Besides the unanimous concurrence of the fathers, many examples in .the Old and New Testaments refute the error." (Roman Catechism, P. 4, ~. 13, n. 9.) More in detail, a renowned spiritual writer explains: "If, therefore, you ask me whether temporal blessings which the faithful so frequently beg of God,--as, for instance, health, bodily strength, p?osperity, honours, office, wealth, riches and the like,--are an object of supernatural and theological hope, I ar~swer that if we look for these frail goods .as means necessary or suited to our successful attainment of eternal blessings (that is, inasmuch as they help us to recover or to obtain God's grace to avoid sin or to rise out of it, to acquire virtue or to increase it, to procure or to forward God's glory)/they, too, are to be accounted objects of Christian hope" (Scaramelli, Directoriurn Asceticum, 4, 49). Hope is a theological virtue because everything about it, its object and its motives, is divine. Relying on God we are confident that we shall obtain God. It is in the affective part of us, our will, because its object is good, the Highest Good. But He is difficult to attain, so difficult that we need tlse divine help. Holy Scripture speaks constantly of this divine help, of the power and goodness of God, when it wants to arouse our hope; of His power and goodness and'of many more of His attributes, for it is indeed hard to say which is the proper and essential motive of hope. It might be God's omnipotence, or His mercy, or goodness, or liberality, or fidelity to His promises. Holy Scripture, tradition, and the holy and learned men in the Church could be cited in favor of any one of these. God's almighty power to help us--and the courage it gives the soul to overcome the difficulties that lie in the path to God--is an outstanding motive. So is the infinite g6odness of God that will be to us a reward exceeding great and an eternal joy. As for His fidelity to His promises, it con-tains "all that we need, everything, evil alone excepted, that we can desire or dream for. More than that even. Why, it contains all that God dreams of for us in those sweet, infinite dreams which His full love for us fills to the very brim with realization, with reality . It is vested with incontestable marks. Prophecy is scattered there, it is sealed with a thousand miracles. To guard it He established first the synagogue s0 jealous, then the Church so faithful. He raised up an apostolate to preach it, a teaching church to interpret it, martyrs to confirm it with their blood." (Gay, De la Vie et des Vertus 27 Reoiew for Religious Chretiennes, 2 3 8ft.) , God's Church hurls anathema at those who say it is wrong to work for an eternal reward. "Should anyone say that'a just man sins by doing good with a view to obtaining an eternal reward, let him be anathema" (Council of Trent, Sess. VI, Can. 31). Holy Scripture is filled with texts commending hope. "I. have inclined my heart to do thy justifications for ever, for the reward" (Ps. 118: 112). "To him that soweth justice, there is a faithful, reward" (Prov. 11:18). "And I say to you: Make unto you friends,of the mammon of iniquity: that when you shall fail/they may receive .you into everlasting dwellings" (Luke 16:9).' ':And every one that striveth for the mastery, refraineth himself from all things: and they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown; but we an incor-ruptible one" (1 Cor. 9:25)'. "Be thou faithful until death: and I will give thee the crown of life" (Apoc. 2:10). The" Council of Trent declared: "Eternal life is held out to those who hope in God and persevere in doing good to the end. ,dust as grace w:is mercifully promised to the children of God through 3esus 'Christ,.',so" a reward will be faithfully .given for their good works.and merits.:'. (Trent, Decree on Justificationj ch. 16.). Hope is a worthy mdti~ce even, for those who bare advanced far in the spiritual:.life: even in, more rehent times the opinion that those "in the contemplative or unitiv~ way lose .every interested motive of fear and .hope:' was condemned (Innocent XII, B'rief Cure.Alias, March 12, 1699).,., ", We find hope all along- our road to heaven. It is,infused into our soul at baptism. The, sinner must hope for pardon if, the.sacrament of penance together with 'attrition,is to take away 'his .sins: .Even' an act of perfect love of God,~ which of itself takes away sin, presup-poses hope.~"We are saved by'hope" ' (Romans 8:24); "He-that trusteth in the Lord, shall be healed" (Prov. 28:25);, :'Because. he hoped in me I w'~ll deliver him" (Ps. 90:14). Good people, too, must have hope in order to persevere to the end and. be saved. One ought often to make an explicit and formal act of hope,, but this would not be necessary. Every prayer we say to God implicitly contains hope, hope that it will be answered, that we will get for ourselves and for others what we ask.for. Then again, good prayer is necessary for salvation, but it will not be a good' prayer, will not get results, unless, it be said with the hope that God will answer it. So hope is necessary, as necessary as his destination is to a traveler. St. Augustine says: "It is hope that is necessary for the journey. 28 danuary, 1950 HOPE That it is which gives consolation along the way. The traveler, laboriously plodding along, keeps a-going because he hopes to reach his destination. Take away that hope of his and straightway any desire to go on vanishes. In the same way our hope justifies our continuing our pilgrimhge . By suffering patiently the martyrs received their crown. They longed for what they did not see; they contemned what they had to bear. ~n this hope they exclaimed: 'Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?' " (Patrologia Latina, 38, 866.) It is difficult but possible to attain God. We must always bear this in mind, otherwise we may become presumptuous or despair. Someone has said that for every sin against faith men commit ten or twenty against hope. It is instructive and perhaps a little surprising to hear what St. Thomas has to say on the sins against hope. Pre-sumption, "which falls back on one's own powers and attempts what is impossible for them, what exceeds one's strength; evidently Ibroceeds from vainglory. Because when one is greatly desirous of glory he attempts things beyond his strength . Taken from another angle, presumption relies too much on God's mercy or power. Then one hopes to obtain glory without merits and forgiveness" without repentance. This presumption seems to come directly from pride. Such a man seems to esteem himself.so, highly that ;he thinks God will not punish him when be sins nor shut him out from . glory." (S. Th., 2-2, q. 21, a. 4.) Despair is the loss of hope in God's mercy. It comes from sensuality. "Our affections are con-taminated by the lbve of bodily pleasure, especially sexual pleasure." Spiritual things do not taste good to us, or do not seem to be great goods. Becaus~ ofhis affection for such things, spiritual goods are a bore to a man, and he does not hope for them because they are hard to get. So despair comes from sensuality." It comes from sloth, too. "Because a man thinks it is impossible for him, either by his own efforts or with the aid of another, to get a good thatis difficult to obtain, he is very much dejected. When this gets the upper hand in a man, it looks to him as though he can never rise to any good. And because sloth is a kind of sadness depressing the soul, sloth begets despair in this way." (Ibid., q. 20, a. 4.) Hope is the virtue of wayfarers, of .those who have not yet reached the end of their journey. Holy souls who die in the Lord take it with them to purgatory. Their Good is still absent, the way still hard. In heaven hope has passed into love, desire into fulfill- 29 I~MILE BERGH Reuiew for Religiou's ment. One does not hope to get what one now has: "F6~ what a man seeth, why doth he hope for?" (Rom. 8:24). Dante wrote over the portals of hell: "All hope abandon, ye who enter here." ~The damned, too, have finished their journey. No good is possible for them now. They are in a state of eternal despair. The soft light of hope falls gently on the cradle and the grave and lights up all the way between. "Between the glory of heaven and the faith which begins to render us capable of it lies hope. This is the stem between the seed that sends it forth and the ripe ear which crowns it. It is hope which gives us the power of ascending up to the shinin~ brightness and power of God. It is like a sacred magic exercised upon our hearts by the sweet allurements of God, a real participation of our soul in His victorious power . What a beau-tiful, what a beneficent, what a precious creation! What a strong, wonderful bond with God! What a surety in a life exposed like ours is! What a pledge of final'~ictory, what a lien on paradise!" (Gay, op. cir., 254, 224ff.) The Holy Year ot: 195o t~imile Bergh, S.J. [EDITORS'NOTE. Father Bergh's article, which appeared in P, euttes des Commun-autes Religieuses (November-December, 1949, pp. 161-170), was translated and adapted for our REVIEW by Father Clarence McAuliffe, with the'kind permission of Father Bergh and the Editors of the Reuue.] AFEW WEEKS AGO, on December 24th, the Holy Doors of the four major Roman basilicas, St. 3ohn Lateran, St. Peter in the Vatican, St. Paul's-Outside-the Walls, and St. Mary Major were solemnly opened to mark the beginning of the jubilee of 1950. These doors had 1Seen closed since April 2, 1934, when the jubilee commemorating the redemption came to an end. For more than a year the Catholic world has been preparing itself for the present season of grace and °spiritual refreshment. On dune 2, 1948, the Sovereign Pontiff delivered an allocution to the Sacred College on the occasion of the feast of St. Eugene. After recalling the distressing spectacle of a world torn by discord, he declared: "So much the more binding is the obligation of Catholics January, 1950 THE HOLY YEAR OF 1950 to be a shining example of unity and solidarity by disregarding all distinctions based upon language, nationality, and race. Envisioning this perfect solidarity, we welcome with gratitude to God and with confidence in His help the approach of the Holy Year . It is with interior joy and sentiments of satisfaction that we announce to you, Venerable Brothers, and to the entire Catholic world that in 1950 the twenty-fifth Holy Year in the Church's history will be, our Savior willing, celebrated pursuant to the observances made sacred by a revered tradition.''1 At once a central committee at Rome undertook the organization of the jubilee in both its spiritual and temporal aspects. Shortly afterwards this committee was assisted by national committees in the various countries. On Christmas Day, 1948, the Sovereign Pontiff personally com-posed a prayer for the Holy Year. All the needs of the Church and of the world were in his thoughts and became the objective of the vast crusade of prayer that was soon to begin: courage for those suffering persecution, unshakable loyalty to the Church, fruitful charity towards the poor and all other unfortunates, solicitude for social justice and brotherly love, the coming of peace--peace to indi-viduals and families, peace to nations and among nations, peace especially in Palestine. It seems that the central committee had at first planned a solemn day of prayer to.prepare for the jubilee. This day was to have been observed on April 2, 1949, the fiftieth anniversary of the priestly ordination of Plus XII. However, the,arrest and conviction of Cardinal Mindszenty impelled the Sovereign Pontiff to request that Passion Sunday, April 3, 1949, be a day devoted to reparation. The celebration on that day of a second Mass "'p~o remissione pecca-torum'" (for the remission of sins) by several hundred thousand priests was unquestionably no less beneficial as a preparation for the Holy Year. On May 26th, Feast of the Ascenslon, the official bull pro-claiming th~ jubilee was read at St. Peter's and then in the other basilicas. Over and above the actual purification of soul attained through the jubilee indulgence, the bull urges very particularly that 1At the time of tbe first jubilee in 1300, wbich brought 200,000 of the faithful to Rome, Pope Boniface VIII decided that these solemnities should be repeated every hundred years. However, before the middle of the century', Pope Clement VI decreed a jubilee for 1350, and desired that the jubilee be celebrated every fifty years. Finally, in 1470, Pope Paul II established the present custom of declaring a jubilee every twenty-five years. 31 ~MILE BERGH ReVieW for .Religious profound renewal of Christian 'spirit for which all should stri~;e. It also lays down the conditions that must be fulfilled to gain the jubi-lee indulgence at Rome in 1950. It recalls all the intentions of the Sovereign Pontiff. It ~extends to all sons and daughters of the Pontiff, wherever thy may be, an urgent invitation to "visit their common Father who with open arms and loving heart awaits their arrival." On July 10, 1949, three pontifical constitutions supplemented, as is customary, the bull of proclamation. The first of these suspend.s indulgences and certain other privileges during the Holy Year except in Rome. The second grants broad powers to confessors of the Roman diocese while the jubilee is in progress. The third mentions certain classes of people who, even though they are outside Rome, can gain the jubilee indulgence in 1950. Finally, .the Sacred'Peni-tentiary on September 17th issued detailed instructions to confessors. of the Roman diocese and granted some faculties to confessors coming to Rome as pilgrims. From this jubilee legislation we shall now select some points of greater interest to our readers. A. GAINING"THE JUBILEE INDULGI~NCE AT ROME To s.tart with, it is only at Rome that the jubil.e,e iiad,ulgence ca,n be gained in 1950. The exact tithe for gaining it falls between noon of December 24, 1949, and midnight of December 25, 1950. As is generally known, however, it is custofiaary for the Roman jubilee to be extended in the following year to the entire Catholi~ world. At the present time the granting of this extension has eyidently not come up for consideration. The bull of proclamation lays down the.fol-lowing conditions for gaining the jubilee: confession made with "this intention particul~arly In mind; reception of Holy Communion; visits to the four major basilicas made either on the same day or on different days. In each basilica the Apostles Creed must be said once; the Our Father, the Ha'il Mary, and the Glory-to-the Father mu~t be recited three times; and, .finally, a fourth Our Father, Hail Mary, and Glory-to-the-Father must be offered for the intentions of the Holy Father. The indulgence can be gained either for oneself or for the dead, and it may be gained as often as the prescribed works are repeated. The jubilee.is essentially a plenary indulgence of the highest possible efficacy. It remits before God all temporal punishment still due to sins that have already been forgiven (canon 911). One reason why the jubilee indulgence can be gained many times for oneself lies.in 32 Januar{!, 1950 THE HOLY YEAR OF 1950 the fact that it can thus be gained at widely-scattered intervals during the Holy Year so that a person may be liberated of his temporal pun-ishment for recent sins each time it is gained. However, a much bet-ter reason for this authorized repetition is to be found in the disposi-tions of the recipient, which do not always contain that .thorough detestation of all sin which is required for the full application of this plenary indulgence. We might draw this conclusion from the Code of Canon Law itself when it declares (canon926) : "The granting of a plenary indulgence is to be so understood that if it is not'gained in its entirety, it is nevertheless gained partially, according to the per-fection of one's dispositions." Just as the jubilee is a time when teml~oral punishment due to sin is remitted, so also it is a time when pardon is more readily granted for certain offenses and when dispensations from various obligations are more easily obtainable. Thus" we stated above that one of the constitutions of July 17," 1949, transmitted special pow-ers to confessors in Rome during the Holy Year. The number of priest-penitentiaries has been increased and the Holy Father has endowed them with faculties of considerable importance. In exempt religious institutes of men, their superiors at Rome can ¯ designate for each house one or other confessor who from that time on will enjoy the powers of a priest-penitentiary with regard to all those living in that house--whether professed, or novices, or guests who abide there for at least one day and one night. In favor of these same subjects certain powers to dispenseand .to commute have like-wise been accorded to other confessors approved by the cardinal protector and also to approved regular confessors in exempt religious institutes. B. SUSPENSIONOF INDULGENCES AND OF CERTAIN FACULTIES OUTSIDE ROME With a view to magnifying the importance and significance of the pilgrimage to the tombs of the Holy Apostles, the privilege of gaining many customary indulgences has been suspended throughout the world. However, the follo@ing exceptions have been made: 1. It is only for the living that indulgences cannot be gained. The customary indulgences can still be gained for the dead. 2. The indulgence at the moment of death can stilI be gained for oneself. So also those indulgences attached to the recitation of the Angelus, of the Regina Caeli, and of the prayer composed by 33 I~MILE BERGH Regieto for Religious Plus XII for the holy year.2 Likewise those granted for visiting a church where the Forty Hours is in progress and for accompanying the Blessed Sacrament when Communion is brought to the sick. Also the toties quoties indulgence granted to those who piously visit the chapel of the Portiuncula in the church of St. Mary of the Angels near Assisi. Finally, those indulgences may still be gained that are granted by bishops and other prelates when ~hey pontificate or when they bestow their blessing according to some other established form. Moreover, most of the powers to absolve from sins and censures reserved to the Holy See, as well "as most of those concerned with granting dispensations or commutations, have been also suspended. We do not believe that it is necessary to make this matter more spe-cific. Religious priests-who read this will undoubtedly be instructed by their own superiors how far they can use the special powers which they ordinarily possess. C. GAINING THE dUBILEE INDULGENCE OUTSIDE ROME According to the custom observed in preceding jubilees, a special pontifical constitution designates the various classes of people who can, even this year, gain the jubilee indulgence without making the pilgrimage to Rome. The Supreme Pontiff declares that he would not like to see those who observe the strict enclosure of contemplative orders deprived of the benefits of the jubilee. He says the same of those who are hindered from going to Rome by reason of age, ill health, exile, imprisonment, or poverty. He has a singular confidence in the prayers of these consecrated religious and in the.expiatory sufferings of all these unfortunates. The regulations of this consti-tution repeat without the slightest deviation those of the jubilees of 1925 and 1933. For the convenience of the reader we shall designate the classes of people who are so privileged, the conditions they must fulfill to gain the jubilee, and the benefits they are accorded. I. Persons Who Enjo~t the Privileges 1. All religious women who live in community in a society approved by the Church (or wh6 have applied for such approval), even if they do not take vows; hence, all nuns, sisters, oblates, pious women living in common, and women who are members of a third order regular. Likewise novices and postulants in all such societies ¯ which observe community life. 2An English translation of the prayer will be found at the end of this article. 34 Januarg, 1950 THE HOLY YEAR OF 1950 2. All women engaged in the service of such societies (for instance, extern Sisters) and living in one of their houses. 3. Students of such societies provided they are boarders or part-time boarders. Day scholars are excepted. 4. All women living in a house of these societies if they abide there permanently or for some time. Women boarders who intend to remain there for at least six months would furnish an example. 5. Women and girls who live in educational institutions or other establishments reserved exclusively for women, even though these institutions and establishments are not under the supervision of religious women. 6. "Ancborites or hermits., who are segregated from the world by a continual, even though not perpetual, papal enclosure, lead the contemplative life, and have made their profession in a monastic or regular order. Examples of these would be the Reformed Cistercians of the Blessed Virgin Mary (Trappists), Carthusians, and Camaldolese Hermits." 7. Prisoners, exiles, displaced persons, and those dwelling in institutions aiming at reform. Also "ecclesiastics and religious who for their reformation have been consigned to a monastery or any other abode." 8. "The faithful of either sex who live in a country which, by reason of spedal circumstances, they cannot leave to undertake the trip to Rome." This class is a new one and is eviden.tly intended for Catholics living in countries behind the iron curtain. 9. "The faithful of either sex wbo are prevente'd by sickness or feeble health either from going to Rome during the jubilee year or from making the prescribed visits to the patriarchal basilicas." This is to be understood of sickness in the strict sense, of convalescence, of marked and lasting physical debility. It also includes bodily afflic-tions like blindness and paralysis, and mental derangements even though these are interrupted by periods of complete sanity. 10. "The faithful of either sex . . . who gratuitously or for pay devote themselves cont.inually to the care of the sick in hospitals." Nursing Brothers clearly come under this classification. I 1. "The faithful of either sex . . . who are occupied with the guidance, supervision, or education of inmates in institutions aiming at reform." This category would favor certain Brothers not included in the preceding number. Instructors an~ social workers applied to these institutions would also be included here. 12. "Workmen who make their livelihood by their daily toil 35 ~MILE BERGH Reoieto [or Religious and who cannot forego this toil long enough to make the trip to Rome." Although vacations with pay supply a remedy for this difficulty, it must be determined if they are long enough to allow a trip to Rome. Although the poor are not explicitly mentioned in this part of the constitution, it seems to us that they too should benefit by this privilege. As a matter of fact, mention is made at the beginning of the document "of those whose plight is so precarious that they cannot pay the necessary expenses [of a trip to Rome]." 13. "Persons who have completed their seventieth year." The above classes are designated in the constitution as the only ones so privileged. Other persons cannot be included even though they have excellent reasons. II. Conditi6ns for Gaining the Indulgence "We notify and exhort all and each of these to rid themselves of their sins in the sacrament of penance, after having examined into them in a spirit of sorrow. We exhort them, thus refreshed in soul, to strive more zealously to fulfill the obligations of a more perfect. life. This done, they will receive with suitable piety the Bread of Angels and so will obtain strength to carry out their holy. resolves with true religious fidelity. Finally, we exhort them not to fail to pray for our intentions, namely, for the spread of the Catholic Church, for the abolition of errors, for harmony amohg the rulers of nations, for tranquillity and peace throughout human society." We have translated this passage of the constitution because it seems to have a particular application to religious. The gaining of the jubilee induJgence is, in the mind of the Sovereign Pontiff, the starting point for a new effort to attain perfection. As substit[~tes for the visits to the four Roman basilicas, works of religion, of piety, and of charity will be enjoined. Either the ordinaries will designate these works or their designation will be entrusted by them to confessors according to individual circum-stances. It is worth noting, therefore, that aside from confession (which should be made specifically to gain the jubilee indulgence) and Communion, the pontifical constitution does not specify what prayers are required or what works are to be done. Speaking gen-erally, we may say that the works will consist of visits to local churches. The local ot~dinaries will issue instructions about this matter. If they failed to do so before the jubilee commenced, confessors may presume that they have received tacit delegation. They should be 36 January, 1950 THE HOLY YEAR OF 19 5 0 guided, as regards both prayers and visits, by the regulations laid down for Rome. All classes of the faithful coming within the privilege can gain. the jubilee indulgence as often as they repeat the works prescribed. In 1925 it could be gained only twice outside of Rome. If sickness should impede the fulfillhaent'of the works enjoined, the indulgence can be gained by confession alone. III. Special Benefits 1. The primary benefit consists in a perfect freedom to choose any confessor whatever who is approved by his ordinary. 2. The confessor is authorized to absolve penitents from both sins and censures reserved by law to the ordinary and even from those'reserved in a special way to the Holy See. He cannot, however, absolve a case involving formal and public heresy. Moreover, he can use this power only once for each of the faithful and he must exercise it when the jubilee confession is made. 3. The confessor selected by a nun ~vitb solemn vows can dis-pense her from any priva.te vow made subsequently to her solemn profession. 4. Tbe confessor of a Sister witb simple vows or of a pious woman living in a community can commute any of their private vowsl However, exceptions to this would be vows reser~'ed to the Holy See, those whose cessation would harm a third party, and those whose commutation would entail greater danger of committing sin than the vow itself, o PRAYER FOR THE HOLY YEAR OF JUBILEE 1950 Almighty everlasting God, we thank Thee sincerely for the great gift of this expiatory year. Heavenly Father, Who knowest all things, Who searchest and guidest the hearts of men, make them, we beseech "Thee, at this time of grace and salvation, attentive to the voice of Thy Son. Grant that this Expiator~l Year may be for al! a year of purilL cation and holiness, of interior life and atonement; that for the wayward it may be a year of bountiful forgiveness, of a happy return to Thee. Upon those suffering persecution for the faith bestow Thy spirit of fortitude so that the.tl may be bound inseparabl.tl to Christ and His Church. 37 THE HOLY YEAR 1950 Protect, 0 Lord, the Vicar of Thy Son on earth and also bishops, priests, religious, the consecrated, and the faithful.~ Grant that all, priests and" laity alike, the young, the mature and the aged, may be united together in thought and affection by ties the most binding. Make them steadfast like a rock so that the assault of Tby enemies may strike them in vain. Through Tby helping grace may there be enkindled in the hearts of all men a burning love [or the many unfortunates who, hard pressed by poverty and harrotoing circumstances, !ead a life unbe-t~ tting their human dignity. Excite in the souls of those who call Thee Father an under-standing and et~icacious hunger and thirst for social justice and fraternal charity. "'Grant peace, 0 Lord, in our days," peace to the individaul soul, peace in families, peace in the fatherland, peace finally among nations. May the heavenly rainboto of peace and reconciliation illumine toith the rays of its tranquil light the entire toorld tohicb has been sancti-fied by the life and sufferings of Thy Divine Son. 0 God of all consolation, great indeed is our misery, toeighty our sins, countless our needs, but much greater than these is our confidence in Thee. Realizing our weakness, toe toith childlike trust commit our afi~airs to Thee and toith our feeble prayers toe invokethe inter-cession and merits of the most glorious Virgin Mary and of all the saints. To the sick grant patience and health, to young men a robust faith, to young toomen purity, to fathers prosperity and holiness, to mothers success in training their children, to orphans benevolent protection, to exiles and captives repatriation, to everyone, [inally, Thy grace, the beginning and pledge of everlas.tin9 happiness in heaven. Amen. ¯ Plus PP. XII [EDITORS' NOTE: According to an account on the first page of L'Osseroatoro Romano for September 11, 1949, the following indulgences for the recitation of "this prayer were granted roanu propria by the Holy Father: a partial indulgence of seven years for each recitation, and a plenary indulgence once a month, under the usual conditions, provided the prayer has been recited every day. The original Latin text of the prayer was published in the Acta Apostolicae Sedis for April, 1949. on page 187.] 38 .ues!:ions and Answers I When a petition is sent to the Holy See on behalf of a religious con-cjrecjation, should it be signed by the superior alone or by the superior and his counselors? May the superior make such a petition without the knowledge of his counselors? There is no fixed rule in this matter. Ordinarily, for a simple dispensation, for instance, from an impediment to entrance, the signa-. ture of the counselors would not be required. However, frequently enough they must be consulted before such an indult'is asked for. These matters are determined by canon law and by the constitutions, which usually give a detailed list of matters for which the cor~ser~t of the council is required and another list of matters for which the council must be consulted though the ultimate decision is left to the good judgment of the superior. Prior to his election to the office of secretary-general, a reffglous has been doing ~mportant work in another capacity at the mother house. May the superior-general assign a part or all of the duties of the secretary-general to another religious in order to permit the elected secretary-general to continue the important work he had been doing? or at least to complete a definite phase of it? When it is in session; the general chapter exercises supreme authority over the religious institute. Outside of such time, that authority is exercised in its name by the superior-general. Hence, any elections held in general chapter are to be considered as made by the supreme authority of the institute, and no superior, not even a superior-general, has the right to put any restrictions on such an office. A religious elected to an office in a general chapter who does not ask to be relieved of. that office during the general chapter must devote his full time to carrying out the duties of that office, no mat-ter what his previous duties may have been. Somebody else should be appointed to take over his previous duties. The religious who has been elected secretary-general must do the work of the secretary-, general, though he may during his free time, if he have any, help his successor in some other important office and gradually prepare him to take over entirely. But no superior has ~he right to appoint some-body else to do the work of the secretary-general in order that the person elected may devote himself to other work, even though in the 39 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Revietv for Religious eyes of the superior-general the other work seems to be more impor-tant. These same principles would apply to all elected officials and their work. What is ÷he effect of the vows taken by those nuns who by their rule should take solemn vows but by papal d~spos~t~on take only s~mple vows? (I) Do they invalidate marriage7 (2) Does the violation of their cloister incur a. censure7 (:3) Does such a nun have to make up the Divine Office in case she ~s not present at it in choir? Nuns who by their rule should have solemn vows but by reason of an order of the Holy See take only simple vows are true nuns in the full sense of the word as far as canon law is concerned (see canon 488, 7°): but since their vows are only simple, and not solemn, they have the effects of the simple vows, not of the solemn. Hence: (I) They do not ordinarily invalidate marriage but make it illicit (canon 1073) ; (2) Their cloister is not papal cloister, though ordi-narily they observe it just as strictly as if it were (Code Commission, March I, 1921,ad III, 2°) ; hence, one who violates their cloister sins in so doing, but does not incur the censure of excommunication mentioned in cancn 2342; (3) As to the private recitation of the Divine Office wl:en a nun has been absent from choir, canon 610, § 3 tells us that only- the solemnly.professed are obliged to recite the office privately if they are absent from choir. The constitutions, how-ever, might prescribe such a private recitation. ---4-- Can you tell us w,hefher the Aposfollc LeHer of P~us XI, Unlgenifus Del Filius, addressed fo the superiors general of all orders and societies of religious men on March 19, 1924, was ever translated into English? 'If so, where can we find the translation? We have not been able to find such an English translation of this very important document for religious men. Hence we appeal to our readers for help. If anyone knows of such an English translation, please inform us so that we may pass the information on to others. --S-- Why are lay Sisters not allowed to recite the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary? We would be able to cjet more suitable subjects for this category if the so-called lay Sisters were allowed to recite the Offic~ as the choir Sisters do. St. Francis of Assisi and other founders of religious orders pre- 4O danuar~l, 1950 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS scribed that the lay Brothers and Sisters shoul~t recite a fixed number of Paters and Ayes as a substitute for each of the canonical hours for the simple reason that in his day these members usually could neither read nor write--an accomplishment restricted in those days to clerics and to the children of the wealthy and noble families. Again, in con-vents of nuns the solemn recitation of the Divine Office took up a large, part of the choir Sisters' day, and consequently the household tasks were taken care of by the lay Sisters during that time. Modern congregations for the most part have solved the problem by abolishing the distinction between lay and choir Sisters, and all belong to one class. Provided that your constitutions do not posi-tively forbid the lay Sisters to recite the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary with the choir Sisters, your general chapter could allow such a practice to be established. On special occasions, such as at Christmas time, it has been the custom of superiors to 91re presents to priests and others who have shown favor to the community. These presents are paid for from community funds. Is there anythln9 contrary to poverty in this practice7 Canon 537 (of the Code of Canon Law) states that "it is not lawful to make presents out of the goods of a house, province, or institute, unless by way of almsgiving or for other just reasons, and with the consent of the superior and in conformity with the consti-tutions." It is customary in many places for a religious community to send small gifts at ChristMas time, in token of appreciation and gratitude for favors received, to priests, doctors, lawyers, and others who have given the community the benefit of their professional services during the year, as well as to other benefactors of the community. These gifts should be within the means of the community concerned. They are subject to limitations prescribed by the constitutions and by higher superiors. Higher superidrs themselves are limited by pro-visions laid down in the general chapter. Usually the consent of the council is required for gifts of greater value. OUR CONTRIBUTORS I~MILE BERGH is Professor of Moral Theology in the Jesuit Theologate at Lou-vain. EDWARD F:. GARESCHI~ is President of the Catholic Medical Mission Board and a prolific writer of spiritual books and articles. C.A. HERBST and CLARENCE MCAULIFFE are members of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 41 ommunicaHons Reverend Fathers: In this open letter we wish to express the deep regret of many in our community that the REVIEW published in its November issue the article written by Fatl'ier Ellard on The Three Ages of the Interior Life, the book written by Father R. Garrigou-Lagrange. The REVIEW has always pursued a policy of helping souls to come to God. But now here is an article which throws discredit on a work which can be of great help to many. If Father Ellard chose to differ with some of the theological positions used by Father Lagrange in explainin9 his doctrine, then he should have published his views in a technical theological journal where readers would be prepared to distinguish between the positive contribution of Father Lagrange, which is rich and integrally true, and those theological features of his explanation which Father Ellard admits are inde-pendent of the substance of his teaching. Certainly, a non-technical journal, like the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, is not the place for this kind of article. Theological erudition takes advantage of readers who lack the technical preparation necessary to measure its true weight. Our regret has arisen from the fact that, in our own community, we have learned by experience the beneficial effects of Father Lagrange's writings. The spiritual directors of our province have unanimously agreed that a wide reading of Father Lagrange by our religious has signally deepened the interior life of our r, eligious. We know of no single case where Father Lagrange's writing have led to discouragement or disillusionment. We cannot understand, then, why Father Ellard has suggested that this will be the issue of Father Lagrange's work (p. 317). Knowing Father Ellard's wide experience, we respect his opinion when he appeals to experience to show that Father Lagrange's thesis on contemplation as normal in the way to sanctity is not sound. But may we present the frt~it of our own experience. We have found that when religious sincerely follow a generous practice of detachment from the world and all inordinate creature affections, of humility and obedience, of interior recollection, then the Good God inevitably leads them according to the way Father Lagrange has pointed out. The night of sense comes very soon. During its continuance, but especially after its passing, prayer shows evidence of infused contem-plation, even though for a time personal activity in the will is neces- 42 BOOK REVIEWS sary. Thes~ touches of mystical p~ayer issue in a constant form of mystical life, in which the virtues previously practiced with difficulty become very easy and habitual. Provided that g.enerous cooperation continues, this mystical life brings new graces in prayer--periods of true quiet alternating with new interior trials. This has been our experience. And generally it has been the reading of Father Lagrange which has urged on the religious of our province to that detachment and inward prayerfulness which are a necessary preparation for God's gifts. We have seen through experi-ence that, even though contempIation is a free gift of God, still our Good Father is more than ready to give it to anyone of His children who is very little in his own eyes, detached from all things, especially his own will (through blessed obedience), and very recollected. Therefore, lest Father Ellard's review deter some from reading Father Lagrange, we would tell them to put aside all fears which this article may have aroused. To walk in the company of Father Lagrange is to walk in the company of the great saints whom Mother Church has given us to be our teachers~t. John of the Cross, St. Teresa, St. Albert the Great, St. Paul of the Cross, St. Bernard, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Francis de Sales, St. Jane Frances de Chantal, and a host of others.--A PRIEST. SEHRETS OF THE INTERIOR LIFE. By Lugs M. Marfinez, D.D. Trans-lated by H. d. Beufler, C~.M. PI~. vi~i + 207. B. Herder Book St. Louis, Missouri° 1949. $3.00~ For the past decade tbe ascetical writings of the Archbishop of Mexico City have been well known both in his own country and in South America, where they have enjoyed widespread popularity. This well-deserved reputation has been due to the Archbishop's out-standing talent as an ascetical writer. He has the happy faculty of breathing life into abstract prfnciples. Through the present translation, Father Beutler has therefore done a distinct service to the religious of the English speaking world by introducing them to this gifted spiritual author. In choosing one of the Archbishop's later works for this purpose, he has shown good judgment, for it possesses a warmth of personal understanding 43 BOOK REVIEWS Review ~or Religious lacking in his earlier efforts. The high quality of Father Beutler's readable translation is best indicated by the fact that it has been chosen as the current selection of "Spiritual Book Associates"-- a choice which will widen the reception the book richly deserves. In Spanish the book had the beautiful title of Sirnientas Divinas or Divine Seeds. Its English title, however, is misleading. It names the whole book from one of its chapters and so fails to convey the exact nature of the book's contents, so aptly described by its original title. Rather than the logical development of a single theme, it is a collection of distinct essays on the basic principles or sceds in the growth of the spiritual life. The unifying thread of the book is the analogy of spiritual growth with the growth of plant life. This is an interesting departure from the present trend among spiritual authors to compare spiritual growth to human, growth. The change sacrifices depth, it is true, but gains in simplicity and clarity. Successive chapters treat of a breadth of subjects: disorderly affec-tions, confidence, humility, love and fruitfulness, sorrow, fragrance and bitterness, contemplation, spiritual marriage, and finally, the secrets of the interior life. These latter include the necessity of prayer, faith and ways to make it live, spiritual desolation and ways to make it profitable. Though all traditional subjects, they are not treated in the traditional way. Therein lies the distinctive merit of this book. Without sacrificing clarity, the Archbishop makes a fresh approach to each topic that will appeal to religious accustomed to the standard treatment of these subjects. His deep understanding and sympathetic solution, of spiritual problems win the immediate good will of the reader. His ability to show the clear relationship of spir-itual pradtice to spiritual theory will undoubtedly gain for him as wide 'and devoted a public in English as he has rightfully enjoyed in Spanish. --- R. F. MCENIRY, S.J." THE LORD IS MY JOY. B~/ Paul de Jaegher, S.J. Pp. 182. The New- . man Press, Wesfmlnsfer,, Maryland, 1949. $2.50. The purpose and significance of this sm~ill volume may be gath-ered from one sentence: "Let us even now try to understand, to catch a glimpse of this happiness, until the blessed day comes when a choice grace will make us experience it for ourselves" (p. 49). Certain that many fervent and generous souls striving for a closer union with God need their minds opened to great new horizons, the author system-atically outlines a few causes of joy in our daily lives. He points out to the soul the path to a deeper understanding and realization of their. 44 ,lanuar~t, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS meaning as a preparation for experiencing these various joys which really are but one--disinterested love. Throughout the book emphasis is placed on three points: the positive element in our relations with God, the complete removal of all self in this relation, and the gradual enlargement of the spiritual life to include all love as the best preparation for heaven. As he runs through the list, Father de Jaegher points out bow these joys may bubble up as a spring, leap as a waterfall, or flow gently in the soul as a quiet river. The first group of joys centers around God, both as our destiny and as a gift to us, whereby we are to take joy in all that God is, surrendering self to His goodness, His wisdom, and so forth, replacing self with Him, becoming lost in Him in a continuous love. The second section concerns the joys the soul receives from and through Jesus. Being raised by Him to be His queen, the soul takes joy from His joys, His desires, and even from His cross. Mary and the saints, through whom the soul can love God and in whose love it takes great joy, are the subjects ofthe third section. Here, the author gives a beautiful view of the Mystical Body whereby all saints share their treasures and virtu'es with the soul, which takes joy in offering all these to God. In the final section, the author deals with the virtues as sources of joy. Besides suffering, a thirst for the spread of the love of God, and others, he points out the "most mysterious joy," " based on a selfless love of God, of loving one's own indigence. But the real basis, the strong foundation for all these joys, is the loving trust of the soul, the great assurance it has of the excess of divine love that rules its life. From this assurance it gains true happiness on earth and is making the best preparation for heaven.--R. P. NEENAN, S.J. ST. IGNATIUS OF LOYOLA. By P~re Paul Dudon, S.J. Translated by William J. Young, S.J. Pp. 484. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1949. $5.00. At the end of the last century the publication of the Monumenti~ Soeietatis desu made a great many facts about St. Ignatius available for the first time, so that, as far back as 1901 a scholar like Father Herbert Thurston could write: "In a sense it may be said that the life of St. Ignatius now needs to be rewritten." Besides the publication of these Jesuit sources, many excellent studies in Church History and sixteenth century affairs multiplied on every hand, but the hoped-for Ignatian biography was still not 45 BOOK REVIEWS Reoieto for Religion,s written. If this has been a long wait, the new life, now at hand, is one worth waiting for. Coming after the labors of such scholars as Astrain, Fouquerey, and Tacchi Venturi, and done by a man who had previously worked for years as a specialist on the writings of Ignatius, this work combines clarity with fulness, a sweeping narra-tive with erudition, admiration for holiness with a realistic recogni-tion of human factors everywhere. For every important episode up to the first papal confirmation of the Jesuit Order (1540), the author has added facts not previously mentioned in an English-language life of this founder. Thus, when Ignatius made his pilgrimage to the Holy Land in 1523. two other pilgrims of the group, Peter FiJseli of Zurich and Philip Hagen of Strasbourg, kept written accounts of their experiences, which have since been published. These shed continuous light on Igantius' own meager sentences. For the final period of Ignatius' career (1540-56), when he was general of a rapidly growing order, the author has wisely abandoned the time sequence and contented himself with broad synthetic studies, but with every statement carrying its source-citation reference. Father Dudon was at his best on the Ignatian writings, and so this work includes all that is known of the background, growth, and evolution of the Exercises. All who have made Ignatian retreats, or read papal endorsements of them, will read this section with very special interest. The assumption that Ignatius wrote the Exercises while actually living in a cave is discussed in text and appendix. Again, the literary story of the Constitutions and of the auto-biographical Testament of the Saint is clearly set out. A work of Ignatius, lost from his day to our own, but now happily recovered, is a Brief.Directory on handling the Exercises. As authentic works of St. Ignatius are two other short treatises: Polanco's Directions For Jesuit Confessors (1554) and Father de Madrid's On the Frequent Reception of the Eucharist. This last was inspired, and ordered, and approved by Ignatius, but the printing came only after death had carried him where not even the Eucharist is necessary. A giant personality is here portrayed with singular distinction. We are indebted to the author, the translator, and the publisher for this book. God is admirable in this saint on fire for God's greater glory.--(3ERALD ELLARD, S.J. 46 danuary, 19,5 0 BOOK REVIEWS THE PRIEST AT HIS PRIE-DIEU. By Robert Nash, S.J. Pp. 300. The Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, 1949. $3.00. Father Nash is already well known to readers of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS through his two excellent and stimulating meditation books entitled Send Forth Th~ Light and Th~ Light and That Truth, both of which have been reviewed in these pages. In the present volume the author devotes his attention to the ideals, privi-leges, obligations, difficulties and remedies which the priest's vocation implies: in a word, it is a meditation book for priests. It consists of fifty-two meditations meant to supply thoughts and principles to help the priest during his morning mental prayer. Each meditation is so constructed that a part may be taken each day for three or four days, and then all parts repeated the last days of the week. Thus each meditation serves for a week, and the book for an entire year. In his Introduction the author explains some practical points on the difficulties which beset a priest's meditation and offers remedies to overcome them. The meditations are practical and adapted to con-ditions which face priests today. We recommend the book unre-servedly to all priests, especially to those directly engaged in the care of souls.--ADAM C. ELLIS, S.J. THE MYSTIC~AL EVOLUTION IN THE DEVELOPMENT AND VITALITY OF THE CHURCH. By the Very Reverend John G. Arlntero, O.P., S.T.M. Translated by Father Jordan Auman, O.P. Volume One. Pp. xx -t- 3S8. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Missouri, 1949. $4.S0. Father Arintero, a Spanish Dominican and a well known writer in his time (1860-1928), was fascinated with the idea of evolution. First he wrote a number of apologetic works on evolution as it was understood in the natural sciences. Then he turned to evolution in the spiritual realm. Besides writing much on the development of the whole Church, the Mystical Body of Christ, he produced this study in which the evolution of the supernatural life in individual souls as well as in the Church generally is considered. The original edition dates from 1908. The author takes "mystical evolution" in a broad sense: "By mystical evolution we understand the entire process of the formation, growth, and expansion of that prodigious life [of grace] until Christ is formed in us, and we are transformed in His divine image" (p. 17). On the other hand, "The term 'mysticism' is properly reserved for 'the experimental knowledge of the divine life in souls elevated to contemplation' although in general it embraces the whole spiritual life" (p. 17). This first volume is 47 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review [or Reli~lious taken up almost wholly with a magnificent dogmatic a'nd inspira-tional account of the supernatural life. As such it may be highly recommended. It is full of quotations from great names in theology and spirituality and thus it has the special merit and value of a sort of anthology on its subject. The characteristic feature of The M~tstical Et~olution is not very evident in this volume. Hence it would appear well to refrain from fuller consideration of the work until the second volume is published. In general, it is much like Father Garrigou-Lagrange's The Three Ages o/: the Interior Li/:e. When it reports what Catholic theo-logians generally teach, it is excellent. When Father Arintero adds to that, the reader should be cautious and, if necessary, i'nquire. Some Carmelite authorities, for instance, say something very different. --G: AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [These notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory examination of the books .listed. Some of the books will be reviewed or will be given longer notices later. ] BENZIGER BROTHERS, INC., 26-28 Park Place, New York 7. Priest's Ritual. Pp. viii + 352. A pocket-size ritual compiled from the Vatican Typical Edition of the Rituale Rornanurn. Includes the rite of confirmation by priests delegated to act as extraordinary ministers of this sacrament. All Psalms are from the new version. BROTHERS OF THE SACRED HEART, P. O. Box 592, Metuchen, New 3ersey. Manual/:or Novices. Pp. x + 268. $2.35. A revised edition adapted to communities of women as well as of men. There is an added chapter on silence. CLERICAL CONFERENCE, C.S.M.C., Catholic University, Box 182, Washington, D. C. The Guidepost. Pp. xvii + 166. A vocation manual for young men compiled with a view to making an ordered presentation of as many fields of priestly and religious work as possible. Contain~ many pictures and a list of addresses of vocation directors of the various orders and congregations. THE GRAIL, St. Meinr~d's Abbey, St. Meinrad, Indiana. The Man on Fire. By Mary Fabyan Windeatt. Pp. 193. $2.50. 48 danuar~t, 1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS A true-to-life story of the Apostle St. Paul written for boys and girls in the upper grades and high school. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis, Missouri. Sermons for the Fortq Hours' Devotion. By John B. Pastorak. Pp. viii ÷ 359. $4.00. Contains twenty-six sermons, each of which is preceded by a two-page outline. The Soul. By St. Thomas Aquinas. Pp. viii + 291. $4.00. Translated by John Patrick Rowan. Contains 'copious footnotes with exact citations of authors to whom St. Thomas refers, and explanations of terms and views that otherwise might be obscure to modern readers. The Mother of the Saviour and Our Interior Life. By Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Translated by Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Pp. 338. $4.00. P. J. KENEDY ~ SONS, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8. Crucified with Christ. By Herbert George Kramer, S.M. Pp. xiii + 269. $2.75. Seeks to shed light on the mystery of suffering by presenting eight biographical sketches of persons (including four canonized saints) who were remarkable for their loving acceptance of suffering. MONASTERY OF DISCALCED CARMELITES, Concord, New Hamp-shire. ' Little Catechism of Prayer. By Father Gabriel of St. Mary Mag-dalen, O.C.D. Pp. 44. $.25 (paper). A catechetical explanation of the Carmelite method of meditation. MONASTERY OF SAINT DOMINIC, 13th Avenue and South 10th Street, Newark 3, New Jersey. "Theirs is the Kingdom.'" By E. J. Edwards, S.V.D. Pp. 48. $.50 (paper). A sketch of the life of Grace Minford, who renounced family and fortune to become a Catholic and a contemplative nun. Copies may also be obtained from the author at 8 Tucson Terrace, Tucson, Arizona. NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. Heaven on Thursday. By M. K. Richardson. Pp. vii + 157. A fictionalized life of St. Madeleine Sophie Barat. Marriage Preliminaries. By E. J. Mahoney. Pp. 93. $1.00 (paper). Contains the Latin and English text of the instruction "'Sacrosanctum" of June 29, 1941, together with a commentary and sample questionnaires. 49 BOOK NOTICES Revie~ for Religious Old Testament Stories. By Dom Hubert Van Zeller, O.S.B. Pp. x + 216. $2.50. An arrangement of the Old Testament nar-rative in continuous and connected form. This is the second volume of "Scripture Textbooks for Catholic Schools." JOSEPH F. WAGNER, INC., 53 Park Place, New York 7. Assignment to Rome. By Anthony Pattison. Pp. 128. "Con-cise and authoritative information on the Eternal City and the Holy Year." Includes the Apostolic Bull promulgating the jubilee, regu-lations and conditions governing indulgences, notes on places of in-terest in Rome, a suggested reading list, and a picture section. BOOK NOTICES TRUTH IN THE MORNING, by Sister Mary Charitas, I.H.M., written in memory of Mother Cyril, Superior General of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Scranton, Pennsylvania, is the biography of a truly remarkable woman. Besides the many duties of teacher and local superior, and eventually superior general of her congregation, Mother M. Cyril was instrumental in the estab-lishment of two other congregations, the Sisters of Saints Cyril and Methodius and the Sisters of Saint Casimir. Insofar as it tells the stirring story of Mother Cyril's life the biography makes very inter-esting reading; but it would have been all the more valuable had the numerous lists of names of pupils, benefactors, guests at receptions and the like been sacrificed to make place for revealing quotations from her letters, thus giving a deeper insight into the soul of this noble woman. (New York: The Scapular Press, 1948. Pp. 204. $2.75.) MEDITATION ON THE PRAYERS OF THE MAss, by Father Fran-cis P. LeBuffe, S.J., aims primarily at fostering the second method of prayer according to the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. Since, however, the prayers chosen for development are taken from the mis-sal, the book is also intended to increase the devotion of Catholics when they attend Mass. Of the seventy-eight chapters or headings, seventy-one are devoted to the various prayers said during Mass, one prayer to a chapter. Moreover, the prayers are explained according to the sequence which they have in the Mass. The final seven headings offer reflections on the prayers recited by the priest while vesting. 5O ~tanuarg, 1950 BOOK NOTICES The book is not written in continuous discourse. It presents a series of snatches of thought excited by individual words or phrases contained in the prayers. The reader is expected to peruse only a page or so at one time. Each prayer is translated in full at the beginning of its chapter. The devotional thoughts" which Father LeBuffe suggests about each part of the prayers are both fertile and inspiring. Some of them are quotations from the Old Testament or from the Fathers. The reader will be pleased to find biographical glimpses of some of the saints whose names occur during the Canon of the Mass. One would not expect such a book to distinguish the various parts and prayers of the Mass according to their importance. It is a prayer book, not a dogmatic manual. Used devoutly, it should advance the reader towards contemplation and foster greater piety during the Holy Sacrifice. (St. Louis: The Queen's Work, 1948. Pp. 241.) INDIGENOUS RELIGIOUS CONGREGATIONS OF INDIA AND CEY-LON, edited by P. Rayana, S.J., is a very interesting, collection of the histories of native congregations of priests, Brothers, and Sisters in India and Ceylon. After an introduction explaining the fundamen-tals of the religious life, there follow five important Roman docu-ments regarding the establishment and the govern

Hepatitis B virus (HBV) has been infecting humans for millennia and remains a global health problem, but its past diversity and dispersal routes are largely unknown. We generated HBV genomic data from 137 Eurasians and Native Americans dated between ~10,500 and ~400 years ago. We date the most recent common ancestor of all HBV lineages to between ~20,000 and 12,000 years ago, with the virus present in European and South American hunter-gatherers during the early Holocene. After the European Neolithic transition, Mesolithic HBV strains were replaced by a lineage likely disseminated by early farmers that prevailed throughout western Eurasia for ~4000 years, declining around the end of the 2nd millennium BCE. The only remnant of this prehistoric HBV diversity is the rare genotype G, which appears to have reemerged during the HIV pandemic. ; The research was funded by the Max Planck Society, the European Research Council (ERC) under the European Union's Horizon 2020 research and innovation program (771234–PALEoRIDER, to W.H.; 805268–CoDisEASe to K. Bos; 834616–ARCHCAUCASUS to S.H.), the Slovak Academy of Sciences and the European Union's Seventh Framework Programme and Marie Curie Actions under the Programme SASPRO (1340/03/03 to P.C.R.), the ERA.NET RUS Plus–S&T programm of the European Union's Seventh Framework Programme (277–BIOARCCAUCASUS to S.Re. and S.H.), the Werner Siemens Stiftung ("Paleobiochemistry", to CW), the Award Praemium Academiae of the Czech Academy of Sciences (to M.E.), the Institute of Archaeology of the Czech Academy of Sciences (RVO 67985912, to M.Dobe.), the Russian Foundation for Basic Research (19-09-00354a, to M.K.K. and V.V.K.; 19-78-10053 to SSh), the German Research Foundation (DFG-HA-5407/4-1–INTERACT to W.H. and RE2688/2 to S.Re.), the French National Research Agency (ANR-17-FRAL-0010–INTERACT, to M.F.D., M.Ri., S.Ro., S.Sai., D.Bi., and P.Le.), the Wenner-Gren Dissertation Fieldwork Grant (9558 to S.Sab.), and the Ministry of Education and Science of the Republic of Kazakhstan (AP08856654 to L.B.D., L.M., and E.Kh. and AP08857177 to A.Z.B.).

KRIEGS-ALBUM DES K. U. K. INFANTERIE-REGIMENTS NO 23 / HADIALBUMA A CSÁSZ. ÉS KIR. 23. GYALOGEZRED Kriegs-Album des k. u. k. Infanterie-Regiments No 23 / HADIALBUMA A CSÁSZ. ÉS KIR. 23. GYALOGEZRED ( - ) Einband ( - ) Titelseite ([2]) Titelseite ([3]) Geleitwort / Bevezetés ([5]) [Abb.]: ([5]) Vorwort / Elöszó ([7]) [Abb.]: ([7]) [4 Abb.]: DIE VERBÜNDETEN HERRSCHER. - A SZÖVETSÉGES URALKODÓK. (1)Franz Josef I. / I. Ferenc József. (2)Kaiser Wilhelm II. / II. Vilmos német császár. (3)Ferdinand Zar von Bulgarien. / Ferdinánd Bulgária cárja. (4)Sultan Mehemed V. / V. Mehemed török szultán. (9) [4 Abb.]: DIE OBERSTE HEERESLEITUNG. - A HADSEREG LEGFÖBB VEZETÖI. (1)Armeeoberkommandant [Joseph Ferdinand] / A hadsereg föparancsnoka. (2)Krobatin, k. u. k. Kriegsminister. / Krobatin, cs. és kir. hadügyminiszter. (3)Chef des k. u. k. Generalstabes. / A cs. kir. vezérkar főnöke. (4)Höfer, Stellvertreter des General-Stabchefs. / Höfer, a vezérkar főnökének helyettese. (10) [Abb.]: DAS K. U. K. ARMEEOBERKOMMANDO. - A CS. ÉS KIR. HADSEREG-FŐPARANCSNOKSÁG. (11) Unsere Heerführer / Hadvezéreink. (12) [4 Abb.]: UNSERE HEERFÜHRER. - HADVEZÉREINK. (1)Kommandant der II. Armee [Eduard von Böhm-Ermolli]. / A II. hadsereg parancsnoka. (2)Generalfeldmarschall von Hindenburg. / Hindenburg vezértábornagy. (3)Generaloberst Mackensen. / Mackensen veérezredes. (4)Kommandant der Deutschen Südarmee [Alexander von Linsingen]. / A német déli hadsereg parancsnoka. (13) Unsere höheren Kommandanten. / Magasabb parancsnokaink. (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Generalmajor Konrad Graller mit dem 64. I.-Brigadestab / Grallert Konrád verzérőnagy 64.-dandár törzsével. (2)Obstl. Alois v. Panos, Gen.-Stabschef der 32. I.-T.-D. /Panos Alajos alezredes, a 32. gy.-hadosztály vezérkari főöke. (14) [4 Abb]: UNSERE HÖHEREN KOMMANDANTEN. - MAGASABB PARANCSNOKAINK.(1)gew. Kommandant des IV. Korps Generaloberst - Terstyánszky - vezéredes, a 4. hadtest volt parancsnoka. (2)Korpskommandant General der Kv. - Marschall - lov. tábornok, hadtestparancsnok. (3)Generalmajor Rudolf Ritter Willerding, Divisionär. / Locag Willerding Rezső vezérőrnagy, hadosztályparancsnok. (4)1. Feldmarschalleutnant Heinrich Goiginger, Divisionär. / Goiginger Henrik altábornagy, hadosztályparancsnok. 2. Generalmajor Kreyčý v. Nagypolány, Artilleriebrigadier. / Nagypolányi Kreyčý Ágost, tüzér-dandárparancsnok. (15) [Abb.]: GENERALOBERST BÖHM-ERMOLLI BEI DER 32. I.-T.-D. / BÖHM-ERMOLLI VEZÉREDES LÁTOGATÓBAN A 32. GYALOGHADOSZTÁLYNÁL. (16) [Abb.]: Gerneralmajor Rudolf Obauer Edler von Bannerfeld. Kommandant der 63. I.Brigade. / Nemes Bannerfeldi Obauer Rudolf vezérőrnagy, a 63. gyalogdandár parancsnoka. (17) Das Militärkommando in Budapest. / A budapesti katonai parancsnokság. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Feldmarschalleutnant Stefan Bogat v. Kostanjevac, Militärkommandant von Budapest. / Kostanjevaci Bogat István altábornagy, Budapest katonai parancsnoka. (2)Generalstabsoberst Maximilian Ritter v. Karnitschnigg, Generalstabschef des Militärkommandos in Budapest. / Lovag Karnitschnigg Miksa vezérkari ezredes, a budapesti katonai parancsnokság vezérkari főnöke. (18) Ludwig Wilhelm, Markgraf v. Baden. Aus der Vergangenheit des Regiments. / Lajos Vilmos badeni őrgróf. Az ezred multjából. (19) [Abb.]: Ludwig Wilhelm, Markgraf von Baden. / Lajos Vilmos, badeni őrgróf. (19) Unsere Regimentskommandanten. / Ezredparancsnokaink. (20) [3 Abb.]: UNSERE REGIMENTSKOMMANDANTEN. - EZREDPARANCSNOKAINK. (1)Oberst Wilhelm v. Pflanzer, gestorben im Jänner 1916. / Pflanzer Vilmos, ezredes, meghalt 1916 január havában. (2)Generalmajor Julius von Vidale, Ritter des Leopoldordens. / Vidale Gyula, vezérőrnagy, a Lipótrend lovagja. (2)Oberstleutnant Rudolf Pfalz, Ritter des Leopoldordens. /Pfalz Rudolf, alezredes, aLipótrend lovagja. (22) Oberst Karl Glöckner. / Glöckner Károly ezredes. (23) [Abb.]: Oberst Karl Glöckner. - Glöckner Károly, ezredes. (23) Ersatzbataillonskommandanten. / A pótzászlóalj parancsnokai. (25) [Abb.]: Major Josef Pieperger, Ersatzbataillonskommandant. / Pieperger József őrnagy, pótzászlóalj-parancsnok. (25) [4 Abb.]: ERSATZBATAILLONSKOMMANDANTEN. - A ZOMBORI PÓTZÁSZLÓALJ PARANCSNOKAI. (1)Oberstleutnant Viktor Nagy. / Nagy Viktor alezredes. (2)Oberst Desider v. Kelety. / Kelety Dezső ezredes. (3)Oberst Radoszlav Masits. / Masits Radoszláv ezredes. (4)=berst Julius Pössl. /Pössl Gyula ezredes. (26) [Abb.]: Oberstleutnant Karl Erhart, Kommandant des Ersatz-Bataillons No. 23. / Erhart Károly alezredes, a zombori pótzászlóalj parancsnoka. (27) Die Stabsoffiziere des Regimentes. / Az ezred törzstisztjei. (28) [Abb.]: Oberstleutnant Ludwig Krause. / Krause Lajos, alezredes. (28) [4 Abb]: STABSOFFIZIERE DES REGIMENTES. - AZ EZRED TÖRSTISZTJEI. (1)Oberstleutnant Rudolf v. Hahne. / milnói Hahne Rezső, alezredes. (2)Oberstleutnant Josef Bandat. / Bandat József, alezredes. (3)Major Ladislaus Mády. / Mády Lászlo, őrnagy. (4)Major Freiherr Emmerich v. Schönfeldt. /Báró Schönfeldt Imre, őrnagy. (29) [4 Abb]: STABSOFFIZIERE DES REGIMENTES. - AZ EZRED TÖRZSTISZTJEI (1)Major Theodor Glock. / Glock Tivadar őrnagy. (2)Major Ludwig Baligovits. / Baligovits Lajos őrnagy. (3)Major Josef Handstanger. /Handstanger Józssef, őrnagy. (4)Major Friedrich Thellmann v. Sebess. / Sebessi Thellmann Frigyes, őrnagy. (31) [5 Abb]: (1)Major Kurt Philipp. / Philipp Kurt őrnagy. (2)Major Max Raisz. / Raisz Miksa, őrnagy. (3)Major Franz Schuh. / Schuh Ferenc őrnagy. (4)Ergänzungsbezirkskommandant. Major, Behringer Károly, őrnagy, hadkiegészitő kerületi parancsnok. (4)Major Max Peternel. / Peternel Miksa őrnagy. (32) In Memoriam ([33]) [Abb.]: ([33]) Der erste Todte des Regiments. (Zur Erinnerung an Oberleutnant Klemens Prusa, gefallen bei Sabac am 18. August 1914.) / Az ezred első halottja. (Prusa Kelemen főhadnagy elesett 1914 aug. 18-án Sabácnál.) (35) [Abb.]: Oberleutnant Klemens Prusa. / Prusa Kelemen főhadnagy. (35) Trauer und Stolz. Nekrologe. / A gyász is büszkeség. Nekrológok. ([37]) [Abb.]: ([37]) Leutnant Ritter Karl von Piwonka. / Lovag Piwonka Károly hadnagy. ([37]) Leutnant i. d. Res. Philipp Politzer. Kadett i. d. Res. Ladislaus Báthory. / Politzer Fülöp hadnagy. Báthory Lajos tart. hadnagy. (38) Einjährig-Freiwilliger Eduard Feistel. Oberleutnant Ladislaus Szüs. / Feisztel Ede. Szüs László főhadnagy. (38) [9 Abb.]: (1)Leutnant Géza Grynaeus. / Grynaeus Géza hadnagy. † Sabac 1914. aug. 19. (2)Lt. i. d. R. Philipp Politzer. / Politzer Fülöp tart. hadnagy. † Sabac 1914. aug. 19. (3)Lt. i. d. R. Ludwig Báthory. / Báthory Lajos tart. hadnagy. † Sabac 1914. aug. 19. (4)Oberleutnant Ladislaus Szűcs. / Szűcs László főhadnagy. † Grodek 1914. szept 9. (5)Lt. i. d. R. Dr. Adalbert Péchy. / Dr. Péchy Béla tart. hadnagy. † Laski Murowane 1914. okt. 12. (6Leutnant Kristian Teszling. / Teszling Keresztély hadnagy. † Laski Murowane 1914. okt. 7 (7)Kadett i. d. R. Dr. Paul Csillag. / Dr. Csillag Pál tart. hadapród. † Laski Murowane 1914. okt. 21. (8)Leutnant Josef Lantos. / Lantos József hadnagy. † Chyrow 1914. okt. 28. (9)Kadett i. d. R. Ferdinand Artner. / Artner Nándor tart. Hadapród. † Wola-Jedlinski 1914. nov. 21. (39) [Abb.]: Leutnant Géza Diener. / Diener Géza hadnagy. † 1. Jänner 1915. (40) Leutnant i. d. Res. Adalbert Péchy. / Dr. Péchy Béla tart. hadnagy. (40) Leutnant Kristian Teszling. / Teszling Keresztély hadnagy. (40) Kadett i. d. Res. Ferdinand Osváth. / Osváth Ferdinánd tart. hadapród. (41) Kadet i. d. res. Dr. Paul Csillag. Kadett i. d. Res. Ferdinand Artner. Kadett i. d. Res. Emerich Józsa. / Dr. Csillig Pál tartalékos hadapród. Artner Ferdinánd tart. hadapród. Józsa Imre tartalékos hadapród. (42) Kadett i. d. Res. Eugen Koczka. / Koczka Jenő tart. hadapród. (42) [9 Abb.]: (1)Kadett i. d. R. Emerich Józsa. / Józsa Imre tart. hadapród. † Sztavek 1914. dec. 4. (2)Kadett i. d. R. Eugen Koczka. / Koczka Jenő tart. hadapród. † Sulmierzyce 1914. dec. 5. (3)Oberleutnant Ludwig Kohut. / Kohut Lajos főhadnagy. † Starzehovice 1914. dec. 19. (4)Kadett i. d. R. Ludwig Zsellér. / Zsellér Lajos tart. Hadapród. † Starzehovice 1914. dec. 19. (5)Leutnant i. d. R. Aladár Mandl. / Mandl Aladár tart. hadnagy. † Potok 1914. dec. 27. (6)Kadett i. d. R. Julius Wechsler. Wechsler Gyula tart hadapród. † Potok 1914. dec. 27. (7)Fähnrich i. d. R. Karl Steiner. / Steiner Károly tart. Zászlós. † Grudzisce 1915. febr. 6 (8)Hauptmann Wessely Oberleutnant Szűcs / százados főhadnagy † Tiskowa 1915. márc. 1. (9)Leutnant Andreas Komlós. Vermisst / Komlós Andor hadnagy. eltünt Berdo 1915. márc. 1. (43) Oberleutnant Ludwig Kohut. / Kohut Lajos főhadnagy. (44) Kadett i. d. Res. Ludwig Zsellér. / Zsellér Lajos tart. hadapród. (44) Leutnant i. d. Res. Aladár Mandl. / Mandl Aladár tart. hadnagy. (45) [Abb.]: E.-F. Korp. Eugen Abraham. / Àbrahám Jenő e.-é. önk. káplár. † Krasnojarsk, in Gefangenschaft hadifogságban. (45) Kadett i. d. Res. Julius Wechsler. / Wechsler Gyula hadapród. (45) Fähnrich i. d. Res. Karl Steiner / Steiner Károly zászlós. (46) Hauptmann Julius Wessely. / Wessely Gyula százados. (46) [9 Abb.]: (1)Kadett i. d. R. Ladislaus Pólya. / Pólya László tart. hadapród. † Tiskowa 1915. márc. 9. (2)Kdttasp. Benvenuto Armandola Edler v. Wehrfest. / Nemes wehrfesti Armandola Benvenuto hadapródjelölt. † Zsebrák-Sattel 1915. márc. 30. (3)Leutnant i. d. R. Hugo Ausch. / Ausch Hugo tart. hadnagy. † Jablonki 1915. ápr. 1. (4)Kadett i. d. R. Viktor Szendrő. / Szendrő Győző tart. hadapród. † Krukienice 1915. máj. 15. (5)Kadett i. d. R. Ladislaus Balogh. / Balogh László tart. hadapród. † krukienice 1915. máj. 20. (6)Kadettasp. Andreas Szamek. / Szamek Andor hadapródjelölt. † krukienice 1915. máj. 16. (7)Kadettasp. Alexander Raisz. / Raisz Sándor hadapródjelölt. † Krukienice 1915. máj. 24. (8)Kadettasp. Ármin Rosenzweig. / Rosenzweig Ármin hadapródj. † Krukienice 1915. máj. 24. (9)E.-F. Korp. Julius Krix. / Krixa Gyula e.-é. önk. káplár. Vermisst - eltünt Krukienice 1915 jun. 5. (47) Leutnant i. d. Res. Lorenz Wagner. / Wagner Lőrinc tart. hadnagy. (48) Leutnant i. d. Res. Andor Komlós. / Komlós Andor tart. hadnagy. (48) Kadett i. d. Res. Ladislaus Pólya. Kadettaspirant Benvenuto Armandola. Leutnant i. d. Res. Ausch. / Pólya László tart. hadapród. Wehrfesti Armandola Benvenuto hadapród. Ausch Hugó tart. hardnagy. (49) Kadett i. d. Res. Viktor Szendrő / Szendrő Győző tartalékos hadapród. (49) Kadett i. d. res. Ladislaus Balog. Kadett i. d. Res. Andor Szamek. / Balog László tart. hadapród. Szamek Andor hadapródjelölt. (50) Kadett i. d. Res. Alexander Raisz. / Raisz Sándor hadapródjelölt. (50) [9 Abb]: (1)Kdtt i. d. R. Dr. Árpád Rátkay. / Dr. Rátkay Árpad tart. hdp. † Krukienice 1915. Juni 6. (2)Kadettasp. Géza Quitt. Quitt Géza hadapródjelölt. † Krukienice 1915. Juni 6. (3)Lt. i. d. R. Andreas Urbán / Urbán András tart. hadnagy. † Zoltance 1915. Aug. 15. (4)Fähnr. i. d. R. Dr. Andreas Erdős. / Dr. Erdős Andor tart. zászlós. † Krupiec 1915. Sept. 6. (5) E.-F. Ernst Bragyova. / Bragyova Ernő e.-é. önk káplár. Vermitt - eltünt Nowoalexiniec 1915. Sept. 28. (6)Lt. i. d. R. Alfred Nobel. / Nobel Alfréd tart. hadnagy. † Worobiowka 1916 Juni 21. (7)E.-F. Gefr. Ludwig Glasz. / Glasz Lajos e.-é. önk. őrv. † Worobiowka 1916. Juni 29. (8)Kadettasp. Géza Schmiedt. / Schmiedt Géza hadapródjelölt. † Tiskowa 1915 März 8. (9)Leutnant Ladislaus Parcsetich. / Parcsetich László hadnagy. † Hlatki 1916. Juli 30. (51) Kadett i. d. Res. Armin Rosenzweig. / Rosenzweig Ármin hadapródjelölt. (52) Kadett i. d. Res. Dr. Árpád Rátkai. Kadettaspirant Géza Quitt. Leutnant i. d. Res. Nikolaus Bauer. / Dr. Rátkai Árpád tart. hadapród. Quitt Géza hadapródjelölt. Bauer Miklós tart. hadnagy. (52) Leutnant i. d. Res. Andreas Urbán. Fähnrich i. d. Res. Dr. Andor Erdös. / Urbán András tartalékos hadnagy. Dr. Erdős Andor tart. zászlós. (53) Stabsfeldwebel Michael Pauditz. Zugsführer Stefan Podoba. / Pauditz Mihály törzsőrmester. Podoba istván szakaszvezető. (54) [Abb.]: Grab des Stabsfeldwebel Pauditz. / Pauditz törzsőrmester sirja. (54) Leutnant i. d. Res. Alfred Nobel. Kadett i. d. Res. Lorenz Hack. / Nobel Alfréd tart. hadnagy. Hack Lőrinc tart. hadapród. (55) [Abb.]: Kadettaspirant Lorenz Hack. / Hack Lőrinc hadapródjelölt. † Worobijowka 1916 Juni 6. (55) Einjährig-Freiwilliger Ludwig Glasz. Kadettaspirant Andor Almási. / Glasz Lajos önkéntes őrvezető. Almási Andor hadapródjelölt. (56) [Abb.]: Kadettasp. Andreas Almási. / Almási Andor hadapródjelölt. † Monostorsziget, 1916 Juli. (56) Leutnant Ladislaus Parchetich. / Parchetich Lásló hadnagy. (56) [Abb.]: (57) "Vier Männer sind hier." (Eine Meldung an Herrn Hauptmann Mayer.) / "Négyen vannak." (Jelentés kapitány úr Mayernek.) (58) [4 Abb.]: (1)E.-F. Feldw. Ernst Ney. / Ney Ernő e.-é. önk. őrmester. † Rosenberg, 1914 dec. 10. (2)E.-F. Paul Janovitz. / Janovitz Pál e.-é. önk. káplár. † Szinna, 1914 okt. (3)E.-F. Korp. Johann Pfeiffer. / Pfeiffer János e.-é. önk. káplár. † Noworadomsk, 1914 dec. 30. (4)E.-F. Korp. Desider Laufer. / Laufer Desző e.-é. önk. káplár. † Turovice, 1914 dec. 19. (58) Leichenfeier im Schützengraben / Temetés a lövészárokban. (59) Gefallene Dreindzwanziger. / A hősi halált halt huszonhármasok. ([61]) A ([61]) B ([61]) C (62) [19 Abb]: GEFALLENE MANNSCHAFTSPERSONEN. - A LEGÉNYSÉG HALOTTAI. (1)Malmer Franz (2)Strauch Philip (3)Weiner Péter (4)Peschoff Anton (5)Müller Franz (6)Volweiter Jakob (7)Bottka Franz (8)Ugry Karl (9)Szettele Josef (10)Wolf Johann (11)Odry Michael (12)Politzer Leó (13)Majer Nikolaus (14)Damjanovich Dusan (15)Schira Abraham (16)Majer Menyhért (17)Kiefer Martin (18)Krisztián Johann (19)Guttmann Eugen ([63]) D, E (64) F (64) G (65) H (66) I, J (67) K (67) [35 Abb.]: (1)Freier Georg (2)Gerber Jakob (3)Matits Mathias (4)Andres Anton (5)Juhász Stefán (6)Hesz Anton (7)Jangvits Josef (8)Méazáros Josef (9)Roth Josef (10)März Anton (11)Szupenczki Ludwig (12)Nuszpl Martin (13)Király Alexander (14)Kungl Péter (15)Resch Blasius (16)Turi Bertalan (17)Kasziba Franz (18)Feszler Anton (19)Szakáts Josef (20) Wallner Julius (21)Oszpelt Georg (22)Amann Anton (23)Kollár Johann (24)Wölfl Johann (25)Francuz Àdám (26)Guth Johann (27)Szeidl Johann (28)Pfarr Thomas (29)Dodon Georg (30)Müller Michael (31)Tobiás Péter (32)Beiler Josef (33)Gerber Àdám (34)Pénzes Georg (35)Zwekán Josef ([69]) L (70) M (71) N (72) O (73) P (73) Q (74) R (74) [26 Abb.]: (1)Wohlfahrt Mathias (2)László Josef (3)Franzuz Adam (4)Knézy Adám (5)Eifried Michael (6)Kovács Michael (7)Persica Franz (8)Bábity Gerő (9)Högger Anton (10)Bénes Adalbert (11)Pénzes Michael (12)Keller Josef (13)Kocsis Paul (14)Kókay Ludwig (15)Weisz Vendelin (16)Eibach Johann (17)Hirn Josef (18)Tés Johann (19)Becker Stefan (20)Lehmann Paul (21)Nuszpl Josef (22)Pfeiffer Franz (23)Burger Michael (24)Kecskés Ignatz (25)Heiz Mathias (26)Somogyvarac Johann ([69]) S (76) T, U (78) V (79) W (79) Z (80) [9 Abb.]: (1)Kokusz Àdám (2)Matarits Anton (3)Kollár Anton (4)Müller Friedrich (5)Schmiedl Josef (6)Bernhardt Benedek (7)Pittelka Vendelin (8)Buzási Stefán (9)Lajdi Martin (80) Allerheiligenfest in Galizien. / Halottak napja a galiciai határon. ([81]) [Abb.]: ([81]) [Abb.]: (82) [4 Abb.]: BÁCSKAER GRÄBER AUF WEITEN SCHLACHTGEFILDEN. / BÁCSKAI SIROK MESSZE HARCMEZŐKÖN. (1)Zeltblatt als Heldensarg. / Sátorlap a hős korporsója. (2)Begräbnis hinter der Front. / temetés a front mögött. (3)Der Militärfriedhof in Zalosče. / Azalosčei katonatemető. (4)Soldatenbegräbnis in Nagypolány. / Katonatemetés Nagypolányban. (83) Kleine Holzkreuze. / Apró fakeresztek. (84) [Abb.]: AUTOGRAMMSAMMLUNG DES GENERALSTABES DER 32. INFANTERIEDIVISION UND DER INFANTERIE-BRIGADEN 63. UND 64. / A 32. GYALOGHADOSZTÁLY ÉS A 63. ÉS 64. GYALOGDANDÁROK VEZÉRKARÁNAK ALÁIRÁSGYÜJTEMÉNYE. (85) [Abb.]: AUTOGRAMMSAMMLUNG DES OFFIZIERSKORPS I. / AZ EZRED TISJEINEK ALÁIRÁSGYŰJTEMÉNYE. I. (86) [Abb.]: AUTOGRAMMSAMMLUNG DES OFFIZIERSKORPS. II. / AZ EZRED TISZTJEINEK ALÁIRÁSGYŰJTEMÉNYE. II. (87) [Abb.]: AUTOGRAMMSAMMLUNG DES OFFIZIERSKORPS. III. / AZ EZRED TISZTJEINEK ALÁIRÁSGYŰJTEMÉNYE. III. (88) [Abb.]: AUTOGRAMMSAMMLUNG VON EINJÄHRIGFREIWILLIGEN. / ÖNKÉNTESEK ALÁIRÁSGYŰJTEMÉNYE. (89) [14 Abb.]: DEKORIERTE HAUPTLEUTE. / KITÜNTETETT SZÁZADOSOK. (1)Ladislaus surányi (2)Robert Kautz (3)Heinrich Binder (4)Ludwig Fischer (5)Branko Kralj (6) Friedirch v. Tesař / Konstantin v. Tesař (7)Ludwig v. Puskás (8)Desider Füleki (9)Koloman v. Moricz (10)Fedor v. Wassilievits (11)Friedrich Toegl (12)Ignatz Krämer (13)Milan Majcen (14)Johann Kudler ([90]) Der Offizier. / A katonatiszt. ([91]) [4 Abb.]: (1)Alexander Büttner / Büttner Sándor százados. (2)Koloman v. Kőszegváry. / Kőszegváry Kálmán százados. (3)Andreas Mayer. / Mayer Andor százados. (4)Adalbert Tóth. / Tóth Béla százados. ([91]) [16 Abb.]: DEKORIERTE OFFIZIERE. / KITÜNTETETT TISZTEK. (1)Desider Bertalan (2)Moritz Sznistyák (3)Stefan Bobor (4)Desider Cziring (5)Wilhelm Kell (6)Elemér Horn (7)Dr. Andreas Biró (8)Anton Prokesch (9)Wilhelm Maros (10)Josef Parlag (11)Richard Schneider (12)Michael Haszmann (13)Rudolf Vajda (14)Dr. Samuel Szegedi (15)Paul König (16)Michael Kerescher ([93]) [16 Abb.]: DEKORIERTE OFFIZIERE. / KITÜNTETETT TISZTEK. (1)Rudolf Hammerl (2)Zoltán v. Horanszky (3)Ladislaus Vági (4)Nicolaus v. Bárczy (5)Eugen Sándor (6)Dr. Eugen Hacker (7)Franz Matheisz (8)Eugen Josef Kun (9)Josef Ferenczy (10)Julius Preisz (11)Josef Szentesi (12)Eugen Tóth (13)Stefan Karip (14)Dr. Eugen Körner (15)Stefan Szemző (16)Dr. Ludwig Győző ([94]) Der Reserveoffizier. An die Reserveoffiziere des k. u. k. I.-R. Nr. 23. / A tartalékos tiszt. A cs. és kir. 23. gy. ezred tart. tisztikarához. ([95]) [Abb.]: ([95]) [Abb.]: (96) [26 Abb.]: DEKORIERTE OFFIZIERE. / KITÜNTETETT TISZTEK. (1)Kolomann Trenovszky (2)Otto Wesselovszky (3)Anton Schak (4)Dr. Alexander Székely (5)Adalbert Schmiedt (6)Desider Balssa (7)Anton Novotny (8)Konst. v. Tesař u. Stefan Vági (9)Julius Száraz (10)Zsarko Kurjacsky (11)Ludwig Schüller (12)Alexander Szacsvay (13)Julius Sárossy (14)Franz Vidovics (15)Desider Szilágyi (16)Johann Haut (17)Adolf Barnert (18)Friedrich Weidner (19)Johann Antal (20)Ludwig Stojan (21)Karl Rainer (22)Adalbert Ofner (23)Ladislaus Parcsetich (24)Georg Windheim (25)Eduard Hammerschlag (26)Franz Blank ([97]) [14 Abb]: VERWUNDETE OFFIZIERE. / SEBESÜLT TISZTEK. (1)Dr. Andreas Gál (2)Adalbert Lengyel (3)Dr. Adalbert Székely (4)Johann Szalmásy (5)Rudolf Major (6)Ernst Ballagi (7)Ludwig Mezey (8)Martin Révész (9)Rudolf Prohaska (10)Emmerich Gombos (11)Anton Riedler (12)Eduard Faludi (13)Vendel Schächtili (14)Edmund Augenstein ([98]) Das Offizierskorps des Regiments in 1914 - 1916. In dieser Namensliste sind alle jene Offiziere, Fähnriche und Kadetten verzeichnet, die im Laufe des Krieges zum Regimente gehörten oder demselben zur Dienstleistung zugeteilt waren. / Az ezred tisztikara 1914 - 1916. Az alábbi névjegyzékben rang szerint mindazok fel vannak sorolva, kik a világháboru ideje alatt az ezred tisztjei vagy tisztjelöltjei voltak, vagy az ezrednél beosztva szogálatot teljesitettek. ([99]) [Abb.]: Hptm. Hauer Hptm. Mayer Oberst Fehér Oberst v. Pflanzer Obstlt. Seyller Hptm. Landwehr ([99]) Erklärung der Signaturen: / jelmagyarázat: ([99]) Obersten: Oberstleutnants: / Ezredesek: Alezredesek: ([99]) [16 Abb.]: OFFIZIERE DES REGIMENTS. / AZ EZRED TISZTJEI. (1)Adalbert Gál (2)Stefan Walter (3)Desider Volowits (4)Hugo Mihályi (5)Karl Tánczos (6)Karl Enkelhardt (7)Eugen Novinszky (8)Dr. Johann Kiss (9)Nikolaus Ostheimer (10)Julius Rosenzweig (11)Ernst Fiala (12)Paul Bruck (13)Tibor Fürst (14)Dr. Stefan Bogyó (15)Emmerich Vermes (16)Karl Berecz ([100]) Majore: Hauptleute: Oberleutnants: / Őrnagyok: Századosok: Főhadnagyok: (101) [15 Abb.]: OFFIZIERE IN KRIEGSGEFANGENSCHAFT. / FOGSÁGBA JUTOTT TISZTEK. (1)Richard Klemp (2)Adalbert Melles (3)Karl Stark (4)Martin Löw (5)August Vallandt (6)Eduard v. Armandola (7)Johann Popovits (8)Franz Hermecz (9)Johann Stefan (10)Paul Neufeld (11)Ferdinand Nádas (12)Ignác Erényi (13)Josef Katona (14)Elemér Farkas (15)Emerich Bartalits ([102]) Leutnants: Fähnriche: Magazinoffizier: Proviantoffiziere: Militärärzte: Truppenrechnungsführer: / Hadnagyok: Zászlósok: Èlelmezési tisztek: Katanaorvosok: Számvivőtisztek: (103) In der Reserve: / Tartalékosok: (103) Hauptleute: / Századosok: (103) Oberleutnants: / Főhadnagyok: (103) [16 Abb.]: OFFIZIERE DES REGIMENTS. / AZ EZRED TISZTJEI. (1)Ernst Novák (2)Alexander Szegő (3)Julius Csizmadia (4)Oszkar Lukács (5)Franz Preprotič (6)Georg Vjada (7)Paul Szál (8)àrpád Huber (9)Dr. Koloman Dömötör (10)Stefan Pető (11)Paul Balkányi (12)Dr. Eugen Ladányi (13)Arnold Vető (14)Adalbert Sternberg (15)Alexander Takács (16)Ernst Neurad ([104]) Leutnants: / Hadnagyok: (105) [16 Abb.]: OFFIZIERE DES REGIMENTS. / AZ EZRED TISZTJEI. (1)Wilhelm Ausseneck (2)Andreas Ernst (3)Ladislaus Kukity (4)Desider Forrai (5)Johann Mérey (6)Andreas Csillag (7)Stefan Schwob (8)Elemér Berényi (9)àrmin Holländer (10)Adolf trutzl (11)Stefan Mikus (12)Géza Náthán (13)Ernst Halmos (14)Ludwig Tarr (15)Konstantin Sarič (16)Emmerich Vass ([106]) Fähnriche: / Zászlósok: (107) Kadetten: / Hadapródok: (107) [11 Abb.]: DEKORIERTE OFFIZIERE. / KITÜNTETETT TISZTEK. (1)Seidl Johann u. Vajda Marcell (2)Mihanovic Géza (3)Kurjacski Zsarkó u. Trinkl Adalbert (4)Anton Spreitzer (5)Paica Leo (6)Pennersdorfer Oskar (7)Lázár Desider (8)Dr. Vlah franz (9)Vas Stefan (10)Gellért Eugen OFFIZIERSKORPS DES ERS.-BAONS IM NOV. 1914. / A PÓTZÁSZLÓALJ TISZTIKARA 1914 NOVEMBERBEN. (11)Voncze, Lollok, Bleiszer, Novinszky, Dr. Polányi, Martin, Somogyi, Rudas, Oláh, Hoffmann, reiner, Kazinczy, Révész, Schüller, Arnoul, Hajnal, Németh, Neufeld, Szalmássy, Binder, Sternberg, Landwehr, Swraka, Puskás, Piperger, Krämer J., Kautz, Zádor, Vaszits, Horn, Szele, Herritz. ([108]) Landstürmer: / Népfölkelök: (109) Oberleutnants: Leutnants: Fähnriche: Kadetten: / Főhadnagyok: Hadnagyok: Zászlósok: Hadapródok: (109) Militärärzte i. d. res. / Tartalékos katonaorvosok. (109) Regimentsärzte: Oberärzte: / Ezredorvosok: Főorvosok: (109) [23 Abb.]: OFFIZIERE DES REGIMENTS. / AZ EZRED TISZTJEI. (1Josef Majoros (2)Nikolaus Devich (3)Ludwig Hirsch (4)Alexander Igmándi (5)Dr. Adalbert Szilvásy (6)Desiderius Matuschek (7)Alexius Breitner (8)Mathias Eventovics (9)Greguričevič Franz (10)Hajnal Dénes (11)Guttmann Sigmund (12)Zima Eugen (13)Rudas Edmund (14)Pogány Stefan (15)Gyurosevits Andreas (16)Sztoikovič Ferdinand (17)Jäger Karl (18)Drubina Kolomann (19)Bleissner August (20)Cseuz Ladislaus (21)Seidl Johann (22)Okolicsányi Adalbert (23)Bruck Emanuel ([110]) [22 Abb.]: OFFIZIERE UND EINJÄHRIG-FREIWILLIGE. / TISZTEK ÉS ÖNKÉNTESEK. (1)Földes Franz (2)Karsay Stefan (3)Rafaeli Alfred (4)Szarvas Géza (5)Radó Wilhelm (6)Dr. Hausz Eduard (7)Servo Philipp (8)Effenberger Anton (9)Dr. Sternberg / Dr. Kunitzer (10)Asztalos Julius (11)Barberič Emil (12)Doge Adalbert (13)Parcsetics Adalbert (14)Földes Eugen (15)Aratszky Eugen (16)Dr. Friedmann Franz (17)Schmidt Konrad (18)Gyulai Nagy Tihamér (19)Tiprovatz Julius (20)Inhoff Josef (21)Blum Samuel (22)Friedmann Franz ([111]) [15 Abb]: MILITÄRÄRZTE UND FELDGEISTLICHE. / ORVOSOK ÉS TÁBORILELKÉSZEK. (1)Géza Preisach (2)Tibor Tóth (3)Robert Markus (4)Koloman Grochmann (5)Dr. Ludiwg Sajó (6)Dr. Wilhelm Benedikt (7)Dr. Eugen Fischer (8)Dr. Johann Iberer (9)Dr. Alexander Bánóczy (10)Dr. Georg Hjnal (11)Dr. Tibor Kern (12)Herda Rajmund (13)Kandid Ludwig Novák (14)Nikolaus Hirmann (15)Hippolyt J. Nagy. ([112]) Assistenzärzte: Ass.-A. Stellvertreter: Sanitätsfähnriche i. d. R.: / Segédorvosok: Segédorvoshelyettesek: Tart. egészségügyi zászlósok: (113) [11 Abb]: OFFIZIERE DES REGIMENTS. / AZ EZRED TISZTJEI. (1)Adalbert Subáky (2)Aug. Vanek (3)Desider Szalay (4)Hugo Mihályi (5)Emerich Réczey (6)Edmund Baum (7)Julius Horváth (8)Géza Dach (9)Julius Mihály (10)Emil Radics (11)Theodor Schwarz (113) [3 Abb.]: EINJÄHRIG-FREIWILLIGEN DES REGIMENTES. / AZ EZRED ÖNKÉNTESEI. (1)1. Die letzte Einjährig-Freiwilligen-Schule im Frieden. / Az utolsó önkéntes-iskola békében. (2)2. Einjährig-Freiwilligen-Abteilung im September 1915. / Az 1915 szeptemberi önkéntes-osztag. (3)3. Einfährig-Freiwilligen-Schule 1911-12. / Az 1911-12. évi önkéntes-iskola. ([114]) [Abb.]: DIE ERSTE RESERVEOFFIZIERSSCHULE IN ZOMBOR. OKTOBER-DEZEMBER 1914. Kommandant: Hauptmann Karl Enckelhardt. / AZ ELSŐ ZOMBORI TART. TISZTI ISKOLA 1914 OKTÓBER-DECEMBER. Parancsnoka: Enckelhardt Károly százados. ([115]) Aus denen Offiziere werden. Einjährige Freiwillige und deren Professoren. / Akikből tisztek lesznek. Az önkéntesek és tanáraik. (116) [4 Abb.]: OFFIZIERE UND EINJ.-FREIWILLIGEN AN DER FRONT. / TISZTEK ÉS ÖNKÉNTESEK A FRONTON (1)Sonnebad zwischen den Drahthindernissen. / Sütkérezés a drótakadály között. (2)Sonnenbad auf der Deckung. / Sütkérezés a fedezék tetején. (3)Die moderne Troglodyten. / Modern barlanglakók. (4)Die Einj.-Freiw. der 12. Feldk. in der Kirche von Žarudže. / A 12. század önkéntesei a žarudžei templomban. (117) [2 Abb.]: VEREINIGTE EINJÄHRIG-FREIWILLIGENSCHULEN IN ZOMBOR. / ZOMBORI EGYESITETT EGYÉVI ÖNKÉNTES ISKOLÁK. (1)1. April 1916 Kommandant: Hauptmann Ignatz Krämer. / 1916 áprilisában. Parancsnoka: Krämer Ignác százados. (2)2. Juni-Aug. 1915. Kommandant: Hauptmann Franz Zauner. / 1915 juni-aug.-ban. Parancsnoka: Zauner Ferenc százados. ([118]) [3 Abb.]: RESERVEOFFIZIERSSCHULEN. / KÉPEK A TART. TISZTIISKOLÁKBÓL. (1)Instruktionsoffiziere der Res. Offiziersschule / 1. Az 1916 március-májusi iskola tanári kara. (2)2. Die Einj.-Freiw.-Abteilung des Monat März / 2. Az 1916 márciusi önkétesosztag kiképző tisztjeivel. (3)3. Die Einj.-Freiw. Schule März-Mai 1916 / 3. Az 1916 március-májusi iskola önkéntesei. ([119]) [2 Abb.]: VEREINIGTE EINJÄHRIG-FREIWILLIGEN-ABTEILUNG IN ZOMBOR IM AUGUST-SEPTEMBER 1916. / A ZOMBORI EGYESITETT ÖNKÉNTES-OSZTAG 1916 AUGUSZTUS - SZEPTEMBER. ([120]) Bácskaer Jungen. / Bácskai legények. ([121]) [Abb.]: ([121]) [24 Abb.]: VERMISSTE MANNSCHAFTSPERSONEN. / ELTÜNT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Tobias Johann (2)Puin Dusan (3)Schultz Anton (4)Dobos Elias (5)Kovács Stefan (6)Hordósy Nikolaus (7)Müller Mathias (8)Dsula Anton (9)Stöckl Nikolaus (10)Klein Michael (11)Sábián Andreas (12)Dudás Josef (13)Kuluncsics Paul (14)Àgoston Johann (15)Budanovits Dániel (16)Hőger Jakob (17)Veréb Ludwig (18)Ujvári Anton (19)Keller Stefan (20)Jung Menyhért (21)Reismann Josef (22)Gyipanov Mark (23)Vakos Stefan (24)Bischof Adam ([122]) [Abb.]: Die Familie Benyák aus Zombor. Sieben Söhne des zomborer Gewerbetreibenden Stefan benyák kämpfen am Kriegsschauplatze. Seine Majestät hat dem Vater dieser tapferen Soldaten 500 Kronen und eine wertvolle Uhr gespendet. / A zombori Benyák-család. Benyák István zombori iparosnak hét fia küzd az azredben. A hét vitéz katona apját Őfelsége 500 koronával és egy értékes órával ajándékozta meg. (123) [Abb.] (124) [20 Abb.]: VERMISSTE MANNSCHAFTSPERSONEN. / ELTÜNT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Mundweil Franz (2)Mikor Anton (3)Forgity Adam (4)Vidakovics Jeromos (5)Paitz Johann (6)Nagy Benedikt (7)Oláh Georg (8)Wolf Johann (9)Gyurin Marin (10)Schira Johann (11)Barasovich Johann (12)Varga Emmerich (13)Valko Alexander (14)Dragity Anton (15)Farkas Johann (16)Drum Heinrich (17)Makk Jakob (18)Hoffmann Josef (19)Spreitzer Johann (20)Drobina Anton ([125]) [20 Abb.]: DEKORIERTE UNTEROFFIZIERE. / KITÜNTETETT ALTISZTEK. (1)Müller Johann (2)Koch Anton (3)Weszelits Emerich (4)Angeli Peter (5)Kovács Adalbert (6)Bahl Kaspar (7)Garai Michael (8)Sugár Franz (9)Moró Alois (10)Acsánszky Johann (11)Brunner Anton (12)Kucsera Mathias (13)Schnell Richard (14)Kara Josef (15)Hemelich Mathias (16)Huber Franz (17)Bobor Johann (18)Gurka Stefan (19)Raits Michael (20)Rill Peter ([126]) DEKORIERTE HELDEN / KITÜNTETETT HŐSEINK. ([127]) Erklärung der Abkürzungen und Signaturen. / A röviditések és jelek magyarázata. ([127]) A ([127]) B ([127]) [19 Abb.]: DEKORIERTE UNTEROFFIZIERE. / KITÜNTETETT ALTISZTEK. (1)Matarits Josef (2)Beicht Franz (3)Psztoka Krisztian (4)Heffner Stefan (5)Pfeiffer Johann (6)Dömsity Johann (7)Schoblocher Stefan, Memhölzer Peter, Schoblocher Adam (8)Biletzky Wolfg. (9)Buzgó Johann (10)Aladzsits Ludwig (11)Bittner Michael (12)Ronai Ladislaus (13)Keszei Josef (14)Pintér Martin (15)Mandity Ludwig (16)Hoffmann Johann (17)Pintz Karl (18)Nagyvinsky Johann (19)Katona Johann ([128]) C - F (129) G (129) [30 Abb.]: IN GEFANGENSCHAFT GERATENE UND VERMISSTE MANNSCHAFT. / FOGSÁGBA ESETT ÉS ELTÜNT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Bruckner Anton (2)Albert Josef (3)Schnitzer Anton (4)Vollweiter Krisztian (5)Pasalik Johann (6)Spreitzer Anton (7)Kurz Konrád (8)Rieszbeck Stefan (9)Müller Josef (10)Hettesheimer Josef (11)Silberhorn Johann (12)Becker Michael (13)Rohr Anton (14)Bálint Paul (15)Mathias Mathias (16)Andrasew Márk (17)Csöke Johann (18)Pleilinger Max (19)Burghardt Adam (20)Kern Stefan (21)Bischof Joachim (22)Vollweiter Péter (23)Uszleber Anton (24)Kohlenberger Johann (25)Szelinger Andreas (26)Bruder Sebastian (27)Weinberger Ignác (28)Ságodi Alexander (29)Bauer Krisztian (30)Nuszpl Adam (31)Slezák Josef (32)Schneider Mathias (33)Rendl Paul (34)Jäger Friedrich (35)Kurcz Jakob ([130]) H - J (131) K (131) [24 Abb.]: IN GEFANGENSCHAFT GERATENE UND VERMISSTE MANNSCHAFT. / FOGSÁGBA ESETT ÉS ELTÜNT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Mesch Martin (2)Paor Ludwig (3)Nagy Andreas (4)Kretz Josef (5)Krisztmann Johann (6)Varga Michael (7)Szalai Michael (8)Hunczinger Heinrich (9)Schweitzer Friedrich (10)Halász Johann (11)Aubenback Johann (12)Madarász Vendelin (13)Striegel Péter (14)Schoblocher Jakob (15)Kiss Stefan (16)Luscalow Marko (17)Gasz Stefan (18)Karajkov Mark (19)Ritter Josef (20)Vacsko Anton (21)Skribanek Lorenz (22)Jerkovity Paul (23)Jano Kolomann (24)Kling Franz. ([132]) L - O (133) P (133) R, S (134) T (134) U - Z (135) [7 Abb.]: DEKORIERTE MANNSCHAFTSPERSONEN. / KITÜNTETETT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Kubatow Johann (2)Harjung Jakob (3)Pestality Josef (4)Ospelt Adam (5)Lakatos Michael (6)Kutsch Franz, Hutflusz Stefan, Eberhardt Josef (7)Scheffer Josef (135) [29 Abb.]: MANNSCHAFTSBILDER. / LEGÉNYSÉGI ARCKÉPEK. Gefallene: / Hősi halált haltak: (1)Hermann Josef (2)Mészáros Georg (3)Peits Blazius (4)Szikkinger Anton (5)Tóth Vincens (6)Opancsár Vlado Dekorierte: / Kitüntetettek: (7)Buchrog Josef (8)Hausz Vendel (9)Zetthofer Eduard (10)Katzenberger Michael (11)Repko Johann (12)Gurka Josef Invaliede: / Rokkantak: (13)Mandlich Mathias (14)Platz Josef (15)Weisz Adam (16)Hückl Koloman (17)Schlesinger Desider Verwundete: / Sebsültek: (18)Kirschenmayer Georg (19)Komáromi Johann (20)Kutza Friedrich (21)Schneider Gaspar (22)Madarász Géza (23)Koppinger Josef (24)Schank Heinrich (25)Dági Adalbert (26)Grisgruber Franz (27)Schneider Stefan (28)Bilbert Johann (29)Balász Johann ([136]) Zur Geschichte der Auszeichnungen. / A kitüntetések történetéhez. ([137]) Hauptmann Alexander Büttner. Hauptmann Franz Danzinger. / Büttner Sándor százados. Danzinger Ferenc százados. ([137]) Hauptmann Rudolf Hauer. Hauptmann Johann Haut. Hauptmann Branko Kralj. /Hauer Rudolf százados. Haut János százados. Kralj Branko százados. (138) Hauptmann Regimentsadjutant Alexander Krämer. Hauptmann Ignaz Krämer. /Krämer Sándor százados, ezredsegédtiszt. krämer Ignácz százados. (138) Hauptmann Koloman Kőszegváry. Hauptmann Andreas Mayer. Hauptmann Leo Paica. / Kőszegváry Kálmán százados. Mayer Endre százados. Paica Leo százados. (139) [Abb.]: Ein eroberter russischer Stützpunkt an der Sereth. / Elfoglat orosz támaszpont a Sereth mellett. (139) [35 Abb.]: IN GEFANGENSCHAFT GERATENE MANNSCHAFT. / FOGSÁGBA ESETT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Kamerer Johann (2)Horváth Franz (3)Bábity Adalbert (4)Czindel Georg (5)Imhof Michael (6)Mojzes Josef (7)Zsebi Paul (8)Gauder Martin (9)Hambalko Jakob (10)Jakobi Wilhelm (11)Berger Wilhelm (12)Brandecker Anton (13)Domonkos Alexander (14)Spaltenberger Stefan (15)Klein Josef (16)Gossein Géza (17)Barasevich Jakob (18)Suhajda Josef (19)Odry Stefan (20)Hetteszheimer Peter (21)Tóth Georg (22)Schihl Johann (23)Sallai Anton (24)Kiss Paul (25)Goszfé Josef (26)Szokoly Paul (27)Zundl Josef (28)Müller Josef (29)Heller Stefan (30)Kerschner Philip (31)Klepács Peter (32)Eichhorn Heinrich (33)Loboda Gabriel (34)Nop Michael (35)Schulteisz Adam ([140]) Hauptmann Ludwig Schüller. Hauptmann Friedrich Tesař. Hauptmann Konstantin Tesař. / Schüller Lajos százados. Eiberhorsti Tesař frigyes százados. Eiberhorsti Tesař Konstantin százados. (141) Hauptmann Armand Vorner. / Vorner Armand százados. (141) Hauptmann Julius Weszely. Hauptmann Zauner. Oberleutnant Otto Abt. / Weszely Gyula százados. Zauner Ferenc százados. Abt Otto főhadnagy. (142) Oberleutnant Stefan Bobor. Oberleutnant in der Reserve Desider Cziring. Oberleutnant in der Reserve Rudolf Hammerl. / Bobor István főhadnagy. Cziring Desző tart. főhadnagy. Hammerl Resző tart. főhadnagy. (142) Oberleutnant Zoltán Horánszky von Hóra. / Hórai Horánszky Zoltán főhadnagy. (143) [Abb.]: Dekorierte 23-er im Schützengraben. / Kitüntetett 23-asok a Lövészárokban. (143) Oberleutnant in der Reserve Franz Hermecz. Oberleutnant Hubert Kohut. / Hermecz Ferenc tart. főhadnagy. Kohut Hubert Főhadnagy. (143) [30 Abb.]: IN GEFANGENSCHAFT GERATENE MANNSCHAFT. / FOGSÁGBA ESETT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Matheisz Domonkos (2)Stökl Josef (3)Freier Georg (4)Seremcsity Anton (5)Rickert Johann (6)Müller Franz (7)Molnár Paul (8)Imhof Anton (9)Periszkity Marin (10)Faddi Josef (11)Puhl Nikolaus (12)Vink Michael (13)Antoni Peter (14)Kasziba Anton (15)Wieland Anton (16)Gärtner Heinrich (17)Schwendemann Paul (18)Horváth Andreas (19)Strangár Josef (20)Schrank Philip (21)Szarvas Emerich (22)Dobos Michael (23)Patarity Marin (24)Müller Jakob (25)Mesch Michael (26)Bauer Franz (27)Réz Martin (28)Molnár Michael (29)Pfeiffer Johann (30)Vajstanac Ivan ([144]) Oberleutnant Ludwig Kohut. / Kohut Lajos főhadnagy. (145) Oberleutnant Franz Matheisz. Oberleutnant Alois Paravdic. / Matheisz Ferenc főhadnagy. Pravdić Alajos főhadnagy. (145) Oberleutnant Ludwig Stojan. Oberleutnant Ladislaus Vági. Oberleutnant in der Reserve Otto Weszelowszky. / Stojan Lajos főhadnahy. Vági László főhadnagy. Weszelowszky Ottó főhadnagy. (146) Oberleutnant in der Reserve Franz Vlach. Leutnant in der Reserve Johann Antal. / Dr. Vlach Ferenc tart. Főhadnagy. Antal János tart. hadnagy. (146) Leutnant in der Reserve Alexander Eisenberg. Leutnant in der Reserve Eugen Kröner. / Eisenberg Sándor tart. hadnagy. Körner Jenő tart. hadnagy. (147) [Abb.]: Eine Auszeichnung unserer allegrössten Helden. / A legnagyobb hősök érdemkeresztje. (147) Leutnant Bogdan Kralj. / Kralj Bogdán hadnagy. (147) [35 Abb.]: IN GEFANGENSCHAFT GERATENE MANNSCHAFT. / FOGSÁGBA ESETT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Fábián Johann (2)Andrek Emerich (3)Heffner Johann (4)König Josef (5)Réz Michael (6)Schmidt Anton (7)Barasevich Simon (8)Steger Georg (9)Tüske Franz (10)Hajnal Anton (11)Ott Adam (12)Vukovits Johann (13)Spreitzer Georg (14)Höbl Johann (15)Bátyity Michael jun. (16)Leincz Ignaz (17)Kungl Michael (18)Hunszinger Philip (19)Englein Franz (20)Walter Josef (21)Szakál Josef (22)Novoth Josef (23)Müller Johann (24)Eichhorn Mathias (25)Pálity Lorenz (26)Dörner Josef (27)Vukovits Johann (28)Gärtner Mathias (29)Odry Lukas (30)Molnár Franz (31)Farkas Franz (32)Farkas Josef (33)Gyurisics Johann (34)Suvák Martin (35)Amstadt Mathias. ([148]) [Abb.]: Erbeutete russische Maschinengewehre. In der Mitte Generalmajor v. Willerding. / Zsákmányolt orosz gépfegyverek. Középen Willerding tábornok áll. (149) Leutnant Žarko Kurjački. Lautnant in der Reserve Ferdinand Nádas. / Kurjaćki Žarko hadnagy. Nádas Nándor tart. hadnagy. (149) Leutnant in der Reserve Stefan Nagy. / Nagy István tart. hadnagy. (149) Leutnant in der Reserve Herbert Pollack. Leutnant in der Reserve Alfred Rafaeli. / Pollack Herbert tart. hadnagy. Rafaeli Alfréd tart. hadnagy. (150) Leutnant in der Reserve Julius Száraz. Leutnant in der Reserve Josef Szentesi. / Száraz Gyula tart. hadnagy. Szentesi József tart. hadnagy. (150) Leutnant in der Reserve Adalbert Schmidt. Leutnant Christian Teszling. / Schmidt Béla tart. hadnagy. Teszling Keresztély hadnagy. (151) [Abb.]: Dekorierung des Rgmts-Arzt Dr. Iberer in Zombor. / Dr. Iberer ezredorvos kitüntetése Zomborban. (151) [Abb.]: OFFIZIERSKORPS DES VIII. MARSCHBATAILLONS. / A VIII. MENETZÁSZLÓALJ TISZTIKARA. Városi Theodor, Szelinkó Viktor, † Andor Kolomann, Weiss Martin, Erényi Ignác, † v. Armandola Benvenuto, Tatár Franz, Nasinszky Adalbert, Dr. Szegedy Samuel, Körmendy Karl, Strisch Eberhard Géza, Dr. Scheff-Dabis Ladislaus, T Bobor Stefan, Rainer Karl, Julius Wassitsch, Horn Elemér, Trinkl Adalbert, Arnoul Karl. ([152]) [Abb.]: Eine Strasse der abgebrannten Čišna. / Utarészlet az oroszoktól felégetett Čišnán. (153) Leutnant in der Reserve Johann Trenovszky. / Trenovszky János tart. hadnagy. (153) Leutnant in der Reserve Josef Vidovich. Leutnant in der Reserve Stefan Vági. / Vidovich Ferenc tart. hadnagy. Vági István tart. hadnagy. (153) Fähnrich in der Reserve Elemér Farkas. / Farkas Elemér tart. Zászlós. (154) [Abb.]: Feldpost No. 105 Zborow. / A 105. számu tábori posta Zborowban. (154) Kadett in der Reserve Andreas Erdős. / Dr. Erdős Andor tart. hadapród. (154) Kadett in der Reserve Adalbert Melles. / Melles Béla tart. hadapród. (155) Kadett in der Reserve Julius Wechsler. / Wechsler Gyula tart. kadett. (155) [18 Abb.]: VERMISSTE MANNSCHAFTSPERSONEN. / ELTÜNT LEGÉNYSÉG. (1)Somogyi johann (2)Bor Michael (3)Mészáros Mathias (4)Kemmer Franz (5)Baron Adam (6)Madarász Benedikt (7)Zsebi Andreas (8)Lovrics Michael (9)Mezák Stefan (10)Horváth Josef (11)Szetele Josef (12)Zsigmond Franz (13)Horváth Emerich (14)Eberhardt Jakob (15)Drobina Paul (16)Csőke Stefan (17)Sarus Alexander (18)Csorba Stefan (155) [4 Abb.]: (1)Kovács Alexander (2)Devich Nikolaus (3)Pauditz Michael (4)Kárász Jakob ([156]) Feldwebel Alexander Kovács / Kovács Sándor őrmester. ([156]) Stabsfeldwebel Michael Pauditz / Pauditz Mihály törzsőrmester. ([156]) Zugsführer Jakob Kárász. Fähnrich Nikolaus Devich, / Kárász Jakab szakaszvezető. Devich Miklós tart. zászlós, (157) [2 Abb.]: Unterhaltung in den Schützengraben. / A lövészárok mulatságaiból. (157) [5 Abb.]: MARSCHBILDER. / HARCTÉRRE MENŐ HUSZONHÁRMASOK.(1)Offizierskorps der IV/2 Marschkompagnie. / A IV/2 meteszázad tisztikara. (2)2. Das Einrücken des XII. Marschbaons in Stary-Mylotin. / A XII. menetzászlóalj az ezrednél Stary-Mylotinban. (3)3. Offizierskorps des XVI. Marschbaons in Zločow. / A XVI. menetzászlóalj tisztikara Zločowban. (4)4. Die XIV/2 Marschkompagnie. / A XIV. menetzászlóalj 2. százada. (5)5. Die Marsch-Maschinengewehrabteilung im Mai 1916. / Az 1916 májusi géppuskás-menetosztag. ([158]) Stabsfeldwebel Johann Acsánszky. Stabsfeldwebel Franz Beicht. Stabsfeldwebel Anton Brunner. / Acsánszky János törzsőrmester. Beicht Ferenc törzsőrmester. Brunner Antal törzsőrmester. (159) [Abb.]: Ein Schützengraben bei Milno. / Lövészárok Milno mellett. (159) Einjährig-Freiwilliger Zugsführer Alexander Ernst. Gefreiter Michael Berkes. / Ernst Sándor egyéves önkéntes szakaszvezető. Berkes Mihály őrvezető. (159) Infanterist Paul Gajdocsi. Zugsführer Michael Gruber. Infanterist Franz Gebert. Stabsfeldwebel Stefan Heffner. / Gajdocsi Pál közvitéz. Gruber Mihály szakaszvezető. Gebert Ferenc közvitéz. Heffner István törzsőrmester. (160) Zugsführer Ludwig Karagity. / Karagits Lajos szakaszvezető. (160) Zugsführer Johann Kindla. Stabsfeldwebel Johann Lorenz. Korporal Sebők Merlók. / Kindla János szakaszvezető. Lorenc János törzsőrmester. Merlók Sebők tizedes. (161) Stabsfeldwebel Josef Matarits. / Matarits József törzsőrmester. (161) [4 Abb.]: DIE DREIUNDZWANZIGER IM FELDE. / HUSZONHÁRMASOK A HARCTÉREN. (1)1. Infanterie-Geschützabteilung No 23. / Az ezred gyalogsági ágyús osztaga. (2)2. Maschinengewehr im Kampfe. / Gépfegyver harcközben. (3)3. Beobachtungsstand der Maschinengewehrabt. No III. / A III. gépfegyverosztag megfigyelőállása. (4)4. Beobachtung des Feindes. / Figyelik az ellenséget. ([162]) Feldwebel Josef Mayer. Gefreiter Stefan Mojzes. Zugsführer Georg Molnár. / Mayer Jozsef őrmester. Mojzes István őrvezető. Molnár György szakaszvezető. (163) [Abb.]: Strassenreinigung in Korsylow. Monat Feber 1916 / Utat tisztit a 23-as. Korsylow, 1916 február. (163) Stabsfeldwebel Johann Müller. Infanterist Franz Német. / Müller János törzsőrmester. Német Ferenc közvitéz. (163) Zugsführer Nikolaus Raab. Feldwebel Peter Rill. Infanterist Mathias Sauer. Gefreiter Michael Szilágyi. / Raab Miklós szakaszvezető. Rill Péter őrmester. Sauer Mátyás közvitéz. Szilágyi Mihály őrvezető. (164) Infanterist Michael Takács. / Takács Mihály közvitéz. (164) Statistik der Dekorationen bis inklusive 1. November 1916. / A kitüntetések statisztikája 1916 november 1-ig. (165) [6 Abb.]: DREIUNDZWANZIGER VOR DEM THRONFOLGER. / HUSZONHÁRMASOK A TRÓNÖRÖKÖS ELŐT. (1)1. Erzherzog Karl Franz Josef, Thronfolger. / Károly Ferenc József főherceg, trónörökös. (2)-(4)2-4-5. Der Thronfolger in Blich am 13. Okt. 1915. / A trónörökös Blichben 1915 okt. 13-án. (5)3. Dekorierung der 23-er durch den Generalmajor v. Willerding. / Willerding tábornok 23-asokat dekorál. (6)6. Dekorierung der 23-er durch den Obersten Karl Glöckner. / Glöckner ezredes 23-asokat dekorál. ([166]) Die Dreiundzwanziger vor dem Thronfolger. / Huszonhármasok a trónörökös erlőtt. (167) [2 Abb.]: (1)1. DER STURM BEI RUMO. 1. A RUMNÓI ROHAM. (2)2. VORWÄRTS IM SCHNEE DER KARPATHEN. / ELŐRE A KÁRPÁTI HÓBAN. ([168]) Die Fahne. / A zászlo. (169) [Abb.]: Die Regimentsfahne passiert die ungarische Grenze. / A mi zászlónk a magyar határon, 1915 február 27-én. (169) [5 Abb.]: UNSERE BEFESTIGUNGEN. / A MI ERŐDITMÉNYEINK. (1)1. Deckungen bei Kamionka. / Fedezékek Kamionkánál. (2)2. Deckungen in den Karpathen. / Kárpáti fedezékek. (3), (4)3-4. Reservestellung bei Milno. / A milnói tartalékállások. (5)5. Schützengraben bei Hladky. / Lövészárok Hladky mellett. (6)6. Aufbau einer deckung Épül a fedezék. ([170]) Das Regiment im Weltkriege. Kurzgefasste Geschichte. / Az ezred a világháborúban. Egy kis történelem dóhéjban. ([171]) [Abb.]: Am Marsche zur Front. / Útban a front felé. ([171]) I. Die erste serbische Offensive. / I. Az első szerbiai offenziva. ([171]) II. Die zwei Offensiven in Galizien. / II. A két galiciai offenziva. ([171]) III. In Russisch-Polen. IV. Die Kämpfe in den Karpathen. / III. Oroszlengyelországban. IV. Kárpáti harcok. (172) V. Nach dem Durchbruch bei Gorlice. / V. A gorlicei áttörés után. (172) VI. Der zweite Winter. / VI A második tél. (173) [Abb.]: Bau einer Deckung. / Készül a fedezék. (173) [9 Abb.]: ZERSTÖRUNGSWERK DES KRIEGES. / A HÁBORÚ PUSZTITÁSAI. (1)1. Eine gesprengte Brücke. / Egy felrobbantott hid. (2)2. Die brennende Eisenbahnstation in Szadowa-Wisznya. / Az égő szadowa-wisznyai állomás. (3)3. Jarycow-Nowy nach dem Rückzug der Russen. / Jarycow-Nowy az oroszok pusztitása után. (4)4. Die Kirche von Pakosč. / A pakosči templom. (5)5. Die Trümmer der Mühle in Zalosce. / A zaloscei malom romjai. (6)6. Die von den Russen angezündete Chyrower Brücke. / Az oroszoktól felgyújtott chyrowi hid. (7)7. Die Trümmer von Jarycow-Nowy. / Jarycow-Nowy romjai. (8)Wiederaufbau der Pluchower Brücke. / A pluchowi hid újraépitése. (9)Eisenbahnstation in Szadowa-Wisznya. / A szadowa-wisznyai vasútállomás. ([174]) VII. Die grosse russische Offensive im Monat Juni 1916. / VII. Oroszok 1916 júniusi nagy offenzivája. (175) [12 Abb.]: GRUPPE VON EINJÄHRIG-FREIWILLIGEN DES REGIMENTS. / EZREDBELI ÖNKÉNTESEK. (1)Székács Emerich (2)Peischl Emil (3)Szemlits Mathias (4)Utry Adalbert (5)Keszler Josef (6)Polgár Desider (7)Schuller Eugen (8)Szücs Johann (9)Bikiczky Milán (10)Robitsek Eugen (11)Guttmann Josef (12)Oppenheim Eugen. (175) [4 Abb.]: Bilder aus Zborow. / Zborowi képek. [Holzschnitte] ([176]) Das Regimentstagebuch. Vom 26. Juli 1914 bis 31. März 1916. Chronologische Tabelle. / Az ezred naplója. 1914 julius 26-1916 márczius 31-ig. Chronologiai táblázat. ([177]) [Abb.]: Stellungen werden ausgehoben. / Fedezéket ásnak. ([177]) [7 Abb.]: ZERSTÖRUNGSWERK DES KRIEGES. / A HÁBORÚ PUSZTITÁSAI. (1)1. Die Pluchower Brücke nach der Sprengung. / A pluchowi hid a robbantás után. (2)2. Die Kirche von Kamionka-Strumilowa. / A kamionka-strumilowai templom. (3)3. Ein Haus in Kamionka-Strumilowa. / Egy kamionka-strumilowai ház. (4)4. Die Eisentrümmer der Pluchower-Brücke. / A felrobbantott pluchowi hid vasroncsai. (5)5. Der Dom von Krisovice. / A krisovicei dóm. (6)6. Fabriksinterieur in Kamionka-Strumilowa. / Egy gyár Kamionka-Strumilowán. (7)7. Die Kirche von Nagypolány. / A nagypolányi templom. ([178]) [6 Abb.]: DIE SOLDATEN IM KAMPFE. / HARCBAN A BAKA. (1)1. Im Patrouillenkampfe. / Az előörs harcban. (2)2. Ein Blick auf den Feind. / / Egy pillantás az orosz felé. (3)3. Abfeuern einer Gewehrgranate. / A fegyvergranát kilövése. (4)4. Ein Maschinengewehr ein Flugzeug beschiessend. / A repülőgép ellen irányitott géppuska. (5)5. Die Stellungen bei Takcsány. / A takcsányi fedezékek. (6)6. Es tobt der Kampf. / Mikor áll harc. ([180]) [3. Abb.]: DIE WEITERAUSBILDUNG DER MANNSCHAFT HINTER DER FRONT: / A LEGÉNYSÉG TOVÁBBKÉPZÉSE A FRONT MÖGÖTT: (1)1. Ein Zug während der Frontausbildung. / 1. Egy szakasz a frontkiképzés közben. (2), (3)2-3. Eine Maschinengewehrabteilung während der Frontausbildung. / 2-3. Egy géppuskásosztag frontkiképzés közben. ([184]) [3 Abb.]: MANNSCHAFTSSCHULEN IM SCHÜTZENGRABEN: / LEGÉNYSÉGI ISKOLÁK A LÖVÉSZÁROKBAN: (1)Bei der 14. Feldkompanie. / 1. A 14. századnál. (2)2. Bei der 1. Feldkompanie. / 2. Az alső századnál. (3)3. Bei der 16. Feldkompanie. / 3. A 16. századnál. ([188]) [5 Abb.]: UNSERE BEFESTIGUNGEN. / A MI ERŐDITMÉNYEINK. (1)1. Eine stille Gasse der unterirdischen Stadt. / Egy csendes utca a földalatto városból. (2)2. Drahthindernis bei Siestratin an der russischen Grenze. / Drótakadály az crosz határon Siestratin mellett. (3)3. Der Brückenkopf bei Zalosce. / A zaloscei hidfő. (4)4. Drahthindernis an der Strypa. / Drótakadály a Strypánál. (5)5. Deckungen bei Nagypolány. / Feldzékek Nagypolány mellett. ([192]) [3 Abb.]: DREIUNDZWANZIGER IN DER RESERVE: / HUSZONHÁRMASOK TARTALÉKBAN: (1)1. Die 4. Feldkompanie. / 1. A 4. század. (2)2. Die 2. Feldkompanie. / 2. A 2. század. (3)3. Die 10. Feldkompanie. / 3. A 10. század. ([196]) [6 Abb.]: DIE DREIUNDZWANZIGER IM FLEDE. / A HUSZONHÁRMASOK A HARCTÉREN. (1), (2)1-2. Im Sprengtrichter bei Hladky. / A hladkyi robbantott tölcsérben. (3)3. Komp.-Kanzlei in den Karpathen. / Századiroda a Kárpátokban. (4)4. Stützpunkt der 13. Feldkompagnie. / A 13. század támaszpontja. (5)Oberst Glöckner in der Stellung der 9. Komp. bei Hladky. / Glöckner ezredes a 9. század állásában Hladkynál. (6)6. Schneeverwehte Stellungen bei Zagorče. / A zagorčei állások hófuvás után. ([200]) [10 Abb.]: WENN DER DREIUNDZWANZIGER NICHT KÄMPFT. / A HUSZONHÁRMAS, MIKOR NEM HARCOL. (1)1. Schneeschaufeln bei Zborow. / Hóeltakaritás Zborownál. (2)2. Kartoffelgraben. / Krumplikapálás. (3)3. Erntearbeiten bei Nowy-Staw. / Aratás Nowy-Stawnál. (4)4. Die Instandsetzung der Zborower Strasse. / A zborowi utat igazitják. (5)5. Strassenbau an der Grenze. / Dorongfából utat csinálnak. (6)6. Der 23-er ackert. / Szánt a huszonhármas. (7)7. Nachmittagsschlummer im Schützengraben. / Álom a lövészárokban. (8)8. Ein Brief an die Lieben. / Levél hazafelé. (9)9. Menage im Laufgraben. / Menázsi a futóárokban. (10)10. Wer sucht der findet. / Aki keres az tatál. ([203]) Den Dreiundzwanzigern. Gedenkzeilen. ([205]) [2 Briefe]: (1)Im wilden Kriegsgetümmel. (2)Der Bürger als Soldat. ([205]) [Brief]: Nun sind es bereits zwei Jahre, dass die Kriegsfurie wütet. ([205]) [2 Briefe]: (1)Neben dem Weizen der Bácska. (2)Das teure Blut,. (206) [Brief]: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori! (207) [Brief]: Es war eine Zeit der Mobilisation,. (207) [Brief]: Mit Dank und Anerkennung begrüsse ich die Aktion der 23-er,. (208) [5 Abb.]: UNSER DIVISIONSKOMMANDO. GENERAL BOTHMER BEI UNS. / HADOSZTÁLYPARANCSNOKSÁGUNK. BOTHMER TÁBORNOK NÁLUNK. (1)-(3)1, 2, 3. Inspizierung durch General Bothmer. / 1, 2, 3. Bothmer tábornok szemlét tart. (4)4. Defilierung vor General Bothmer. / 4. Diszfelvonulás Bothmer tábornok előtt. (5)5. Der Stab der 32. I. T. D. / A 32-es gyaloghadosztálytörzs. ([209]) [2 Briefe]: (1)Trockene Zahlen bergen heute hohe Begriffe in sich. (2)Wir schöpfen aus den Heldentaten. (210) [3 Briefe]: (1)Nachdem es in ein paar Zeilen möglich ist,. (2)Das Andenken der Helden zu verewigen. (3)Denen zu helfen, die auf unsere Menschenliebe angewiesen,. (211) [5 Briefe]: (1)Die Bácskaer haben immer. (2)Bei den Söhnen der Bácska. (3)Tu fac officium; cetera causa Dei. (4)All jene, die ihr junges Leben,. (5)Es sei Gottes Willen, dass der Ertrag des Kriegsalbums. (212) [7 Abb.]: DAS LEBEN AN DER FRONT BEI DEN DREIUNDZWANZIGERN. / HOGY ÉL A HUSZONHÁRMAS A FRONTON. (1)1. In der Stellung bei Kamionka. / A kamionkai állásból. (2)2. Im Unterstandseingang. / A fedezék ajtajában. (3)3. Menagekosten. / Jó-e a menázsi? (4)4. Defilierung der Dreiundzwanziger in Zborow. / A huszonhármasok zenével masiroznak Zborowon át. (5)5. Das Lager des XII. Marschbaons in Barszerovice. / A XII. menetzászlóalj Barszerovicén táboroz. (6)6. Vor der Deckung. / A fedezék előtt. (7)7. Offizierskorps der 13. Feldkomp. / A 13. század tisztikara. ([213]) Huszonhármasokról a huszonhármasoknak. Emléksorok. ([214]) [2 Briefe]: (1)A nemzetek. (2)Ob polgár mint mérheti. ([214]) [Brief]: Immár két év óta tombol. ([214]) [2 Briefe]: (1)Bácska buzája után Bácska katonája. (2)Hőseinknek a harctéren ahazáért (215) [Brief]: Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori! (216) [Brief]: Még a mozgósitáskor történt,. (216) [Brief]: Hálával és elismeréssel köszöntöm a huszonhármasok vállalkozását,. (217) [2 Briefe]. (1)A máskor rideg számok ma nagyszerü fogalmakat rejtenek magukban. (2)A varos háziezzedének,. (218) [8 Abb.]: DIE TECHNISCHE KUNST DES KRIEGES. / A HÁBURÚ MŰVÉSZI TECHNIKÁJA. (1)1. Eine Fliegerabwehr-Maschinengewehrabteilung. / Légijárművek ellen beállitott gépfegyverosztag. (2)2. Die Fliegerabwehrkanone. / Ágyú a gépmadarak ellen. (3)3. Ein 22.5 cm. Minenwerfer. / A 22 és feles aknavető. (4)4. Beim Gebirgsgeschütz. / A hegyi üteg egyik ágyúja. (5)5. Start eines Fliegers / Startol a repülőgép. (6)6. Die Telephonabteilung in den Karpathen. / Telefonosztag a Kárpátokban. (7)7. Eine Scheinwerferabteilung. / Fényszóróosztag. (8)Abfahrt zur Fassung. / Utrakészen a század trénje. ([219]) [3 Briefe]: (1)Mivel két-három sorban egy csaknem. (2)Ugy mondják, hogy a hősök emlékét. (3)A könyörületre szoruló szánandókon lelkünk. (220) [5 Briefe]: (1)A bácskaiak mindig és mindenütt. (2)Bácska fiainál a haza és a föld szeretete. (3)Tu fac officium; cetera causa Dei. (4)Mindazok, akik értünk áldozták fiatal életüket,. (5)Adja a Mindenható, hogy a szeretett hazánk. (221) Unser Kommandant. ([222]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oberst Glöckner geht aus Zalosce auf Urlaub. / Glöckner ezredes Zalosceből szabadságra megy. (2)Deckung des Oberst Glöckner bei Cote 292 am 1. VI. 1915. / Glöckner ezredes fedezéke a 292-es magaslaton 1915 VI. 1-én. ([222]) [7 Abb.]: UNSER REGIMENTSKOMMANDANT. / A MI EZREDESÜNK. (1)1. Weihnachtsabend beim Rgmtskommando in Zagorce 1915. / Karácsony este az ezredparancsnokságnál 1915-ben Zagorcen. (2)2. Ein deutscher Gast. / Glöckner ezredes a "némettel" komiázik. (3)3. Oberst Glöckner als Brigadir. / Glöckner ezredes, mint brigadéros. (4)4. Vor der Rgmtskantine in Presovce. / Az ezredkantin előtt Presovcén. (5)5. Offiziersversammlung in Seretec. / Tiszti összejövetel Seretecen. (6)6. In der Stellung bei krukienice 11/VI. 1915. / A Krukienicei állásokban 1915 junius 11. (7)7. Gäste beim Regimentskommando in Presovce. / Vendégek az ezredparancsnokságnál Presovcén. ([223]) Die Seele des Kämpfers. / A sbáci temetőig. ([224]) [Abb.]: Auf Brückenwacht. / Hid-őrségen. ([224]) [Abb.]: Die ersten Kriegsgefangenen bei Sabac. / Az első hadifoglyok Sbácnál. (226) Kezdetben. Naplótöredék. ([227]) [Abb.]: Die ersten Verwundeten in Klenák. / Az első sebesültek Klenákon. ([227]) [Abb.]: Vorbereitung zur Überschiffung der Save. / Előkészület a Száván való átkeléshez. (228) [Abb.]: Gefangene serbische Komitatschis. / Fogoly szerb komitácsik. (229) [8 Abb.]: LAGERLEBEN BEI DEN 23-ERN. / TÁBORI ÉLET A HUSZONHÁRMASOKNÁL. (1)1. Baracken bei Crókaófalu. / Barakkok Cirókaófaluban. (2)2. Erzeugung von "spanischen Reitern". / Spanyollovast fon a baka. (3)3. Ein ungefährliches Arsenal. / Egy ártatlan arzenál. (4)4. Im Lager bei Tamanovice. / A tamanovicei táborból. (5)5. Die Schnitter bei Nowy-Staw. / A nowy-stawi aratók. (6)6. Der "Baka" schreibt nach Hause. / Levelet ir a baka. (7)7. die 12. Kompanie vor der menagenverteilung. / A 12. század menázsi előtt. (8)8. Nach schwerem Gefechte. / Nehéz ütközet után. ([230]) [Abb.]: Im zwanzigsten Monate der Kriegsleiden. / A szenvedések huszadik hónapjában. (231) [Abb.]: OFFIZIERSKORPS DER I/X. MARSCHKOMPAGNIE. / A X. MENETZÁSZLÓALJ ELSŐ SZÁDÁNAK TISZTIKARA. Samuel Gellért, Andor Ernst, Emerich Treer, Adalbert Lengyel, Adalbert Gál, Eugen Martin, Samuel Berliner (232) Der Krieg und der Aberglaube. / Mikor az ember "sabáci hős". ([233]) [Abb.]: ([233]) [7 Abb.]: NACH AUSGETOBTEN KÄMPFEN. / DULÓ CSATÁK UTÁN. (1)1. Schwerverwundete in einer Scheune. / Nehéz sbesültek egy félszerben. (2)-(4)2.-4. "Stilleben" auf der Wahlstatt. / "Csendélet" a harctéren. (5), (6)Verwundetentransport. / Sebesültszállitás. (7)7. Beerdigung russischer Gefallener. / Orosz holttestek eltakaritása. ([236]) [3 Abb.]: DAS ERSTE MARSCHBATAILLON. / AZ ELSŐ MENETZÁSZLÓALJ. (1)1. Offiziere der 3. Kompanie. / A 3. század tisztikara. (2)2. Die Offiziere und Chargen der 4. Kompanie. / A 4. század tisztjei és altisztjei. (3)3. Die Offiziere der 4. Kompanie. / A 4. század tisztikara. ([238]) Das Erste Marschbataillon. / Az első menetzászlóalj. ([239]) [Abb.]: Maschinengewehrabteilung am Vormarsche. / Utban a gépfegyverosztag. ([239]) [Abb.]: Das Schloss in Liškó nach dem russischen Einbruch. / A liškói kastély az orosz látogatás után. (240) [Abb.]: Die 23-er als Wäscherinnen. / Nagymosás a front megett. (241) [2 Abb.]: (1)I. OFFIZIERSKORPS DER 2/II. MARSCHKOMPANIE. / I. A II. MENETZÁSZLÓALJ MÁSODIK SZÁZADÁNAK TISZTIKARA. Aladár Biró, Adalbert Sternlicht, Bogdán Kralj, Philipp Servo, Julius Wessely, Neumann (2)2. OFFIZIERSKORPS DER I./II. MARSCHKOMPANIE. / 2. A II. MENETZÁSZLÓALJ ELSŐ SZÁZADÁNAK TISZTIKARA. Béla Trinkl, Max Prager, Stefan v. Moldovány, Ladislaus v. Surányi, Ernst Freund ([242]) [Abb.]: OFFIZIERSKORPS DES IV. MARSCHBATAILLONS. / A IV. MENETZÁSZLÓALJ TISZTIKARA. Várady Zoltán, Biró Aladár, Schleicher Géza, Jánosy Dénes, Winter Filipp, Nádas Ferdinand, Koczián Karl, Černy Jaroslav, Trinkl Adalbert, Horn Elemér, † Artner Ferdinand, Gyöngyi Ladislaus, Berend Ladislaus, Barberič Emil, Jasper Johann, Keleti Desider, Wallandt August, Bertalan Desiderius, Arnoul Karl, Alexander Lollok, Grubacsky Gabriel, Pető Stefan. ([244]) Meine 23-er. / Az én huszonhármasaim. ([245]) [Abb.]: ([245]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Feldmesse bei Kanonendonner / Istentisztelet ágyúk zúgása közt. (2)Russische Gefangene vor dem Abtransport. / Orosz foglyok elszálltásuk előtt. (246) A harminckettősöknél. A IV. menetzászlóalj történetéhez. ([247]) [Abb.]: Lastenauto im Kriegsdienst. / Teherauo a harctéren. ([247]) [4 Abb.]: IV. MARSCHBATAILLON, 3. KOMPANIE. / IV. MENETZÁSZLÓALJ, 3. SZÁZAD. ([248]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Brand in Trosčianeč nach einer Bombadierung. / Légibomba gyujtogatása Trosčianečen. (2)Die Feldbahn bei Nagypolány. / A nagypolányi tábori vasut. (249) Laszki-Murowane. Reminiszenzen. / Laszki-Murowane. Emlékezés. ([250]) [Abb.]: Kurze Rast. / Rövid pihenő. ([250]) [6 Abb.]: BILDER AUS LASZKI-MUROWANE. Aufnahmen des Generalmajor von Vidale. / LASZKI-MUROWANEI KÉPEK. Vidale vezérőrnagy fényképfelvételei. (1)1. Übergang über Hočewka am 5. Okt. 1914. / Áteklés a Hočewkán 1914 oktober 5-én. (2)2. Die Kulturarbeit der Kosaken im Schlosse zu Laszi-Murowane. / Kozáknyomok a laszki-murowanei kastélyban. (3)3. Sprengtrichter einer russischen 15 cm. Granate. / Egy orosz 15-ös gránátyluk. (4)4. Die Kirche in Laszki-Murowane. / A laszki-murowanei templom. (5)5. Im Hohlweg bei Laszki-Murowane. / A laszki-murowanei útszorosban. (6)6. Strasse Berežow-Szumina. / A berežow-szuminai országútról. ([251]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Aussicht durch die Schiesscharte. / Kilátás a lőrésen át. (2)Der Scheinwerferkegel. / A fényszóró sugár kévéje. (253) Turovice. 19. Dezember 1914. / Turovice. 1914 december 19. ([254]) [Abb.]: Sie ruhen in fremder Erde. / Nyugosznak messze idegenben. ([254]) [Abb.]: Horst Bandat. Josef Bandat. (256) [Abb.]: OFFIZIERSKORPS DES II. FELDBATAILLONS IM NOVEMBER 1914. / A II. ZÁSZLÓALJ TISZTIKARA 1914 NOVEMBERBEN. Gombos, Bolár, Wagner, Payka, Göndör, Kun, Mayer, Bandat, Hermecz, Krevenka (258) Dalolnak a huszonhármasok. Bácskai katonanótak. ([259]) [Abb.]: Tombola an der Front. / Tombola a fronton. ([259]) [4 Abb.]: XXI. MARSCHBATAILLON, 2. KOMPANIE. / XXI. MENETZÁSZLÓALJ, 2. SZÁZAD. ([260]) Potok. Zu den Zeichnungen des Gm. Julius v. Vidale. / Potok San Martinói Vidale Gyula vezérőrnagy rajzaihoz. ([262]) [Abb.]: Bauen der Stellungen. / Készül a fedezék. ([262]) [2 Abb.]: ZEICHNUNGEN DES GENERALMAJOR JULIUS VIDALE VON SAN-MARTINO. / SAN-MARTINÓI VIDALE GYULA VEZÉRŐRNAGY RAJZAI. (1)Angriff auf Potok am 26. Dezember 1914. / 1. A potoki támadás 1914 december 26. (2)2. Major Hahne im Laufgraben. / 2. Hahne őrnagy a futóárokban. ([263]) [2 Abb.]: ZEICHNUNGEN DES GENERALMAJOR JULIUS VIDALE VON SAN-MARTINO. / SAN-MARTINÓI VIDALE GYULA VEZÉRŐRNAGY RAJZAI. (1)1. Die drei Kreuze von Potok. / 1. A potoki három kereszt. (2)2. Heim des Rgmts-Kommandos in Potok. / 2. Az ezredparancsnokság palotája Potokon. ([265]) [Abb.]: (267) Als der Russe noch in Ungarn war. Abenteuer des Infanteristen Szilágyi. / Mikor a muszka még Magyarországon volt. Infanteriszt Szilágyi vitézi esete. ([268]) [Abb.]: Die Russen in Ungarn. / Muszkák Magyarországon. ([268]) [6 Abb.]: DIE RUSSISCHE "DAMPFWALZE". / AZ OROSZ "GŐZHENGER". (1)1. In der Kirche von Adamowka. / Az oroszországi adamowakai templomban. (2)2. Hore Ruke! Hände hoch! / Kezet föl! (3)3. Gefangenenbeute von drei 23-er. / Három 23-as fogolyzsákmánya. (4)4. Gefangeneneskorte. / Kisérik a foglyokat. (5)Moskoviten in Ungarn. / Muszkák Magyarországon. (6)Russen unterwegs nach Budapest. / Muszkák útban Budapest felé. ([269]) [6 Abb.]: KARPATHENBILDER. / A KÁRPÁTOKBÓL. (1)1. Die Feldmesse / Tábori mise. (2)2. Soldatenfriedhof. / Katonatemető. (3)3. Magere Weide. / Sovány legelő. (4)4. Eine schwere Batterie-Stellung im Schnee. / Egy nehéz üteg állása a hóban. (5)5. Das Pferdespital in Čišna. / A čišnai lókórház. (6)6. Schneeverwehung. / Havat hánynak a 23-asok. ([271]) Krukienice. 1915 március 19. ([273]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Flüchtlingslager bei Krukienice. / Menekültek tábora Krukienice mellett. (2)Ein Trümmerhaufen in Krukienice. / Krukienice romjai. ([273]) [6 Abb.]: AUS SCHWEREN TAGEN. / NEHÉZ NAPOKBÓL. (1)1. Am Vorabend des blutigen Sturmes bei Krukieniče. / A krukieniče véres roham előtt. (2)2. Wenn der 23-er nicht fesch ist. / Mikor a 23-as nem fess. (3)3. Nach der Schlacht. / Dúló harc után. (4)4. Übergang über die Hočewka. / Átkelés a Hočewkán. (5)5. Das brennende Žabuže. / Az égő Žabuže. (6)6. Beerdigung russischer Toten. / Orosz holtak temetése. ([274]) Hideg szél fúj. Bakanóta. (275) Anerkennung für die erfolgreiche Bugforcierung. / Elismerő irások a sikeres Bug-átkelésért. ([276]) Die Übersetzung des Bugflusses. 26. Juli 1915. / A Bug-átkelés. 1915 július 26. ([277]) [Abb.]: ([277]) [Abb.]: Ein zerschossenes Haus in Kamionka. / Kamionkai romok. (278) [Abb.]: Brückenbau über den Bug bei Kamionka. / Hidat vernek a Bugon, Kamionka mellett. (279) [8 Abb.]: DIE TECHNISCHE KUNST DES KRIEGES. / A HÁBORÚ MŰVESZI TECHNIKÁJA. (1)1. Pferdevisite beim Train. / Lóviziz a trénnél. (2)2. Ein 30.5-er Mörser in Stellung. / Egy 30 és feles maskirozott állásban. (3)3. Divisionsbäckerei No. 32. / A 32. hadosztály tábori kenyérgyára. (4)4. Brückenschlag über den Bug bei Kamionka. / Hidverés a Bugon Kamionka mellett. (5)5. Eine "schwere" Batterie in der Karpathenstellung. / Nehéz üteg a Kárpátokban. (6)6. Der Waffenmeister im Felde. / A fegyverkovács a táborban. (7)Ein abgestürzter Aeroplan. / Egy lezuhant repülőgép. (8)8. Eine Fliegerabwehrkanone in Zalošče. / Ágyú a repülők ellen Zaloščében. ([281]) Négy hónapig az oroszoknál. Egy szökés története. ([283]) [Abb.]: Verhör von Gefangenen. / Foglyok kihallgatása. ([283]) [Abb.]: Fähnrich Sigmund Árgay. / Árgay Zsigmond zászlós. (284) [Gedicht]: Éljen. (284) [7 Abb.]: FRÖHLICHES LEBEN AN DER FRONT. / VIDÁM ÉLET A FRONTON. (1)Uns kann man nicht aushungern. / Nem halunk éhen. (2)2. Idyll. / Idill a "panyinkával". (3)3. Auf 30 Schritte von den Russen. / Harminc lépésre a muszkáktól. (4)4. Offiziere und Unteroffiziere der 9-ten Kompanie. / A 9. zázad tisztjei és altisztjei. (5)5. Beim Mittagessen. / Izlik a menázsi. (6)6. Der Stab des II-ten Bataillons menagiert. / A II. zászlóalj törzse ebédel. (7)7. Anklang unserer Bakas bei den Liskoer Frauen. / Sirnak utánunk a liskói asszonyok. ([285]) A fünfte sturmja. Milno, 1915 november 2. ([286]) [Abb.]: ([286]) [Gedicht]: A harang. (287) Trichtersprengung. 18. April 1916. / Tölcsérrobbantás. 1916 április 18. ([288]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Aussicht aus dem Trichter. / Kilátás a tölcsérből. (2)Nordrand des Trichters. / A tölcser északi része. ([288]) [3 Abb.]: DAS REGIMENT IM FELDE. / AZ EZRED A HARCTÉREN. (1)1. Die 15. Feldkompanie in der Reserve. / A 15. század tartalékban. (2)2. Der Hilfsplatz des III. Feldbataillons. / A III. zászlóalj sgélyhelye. (3)3. Die 9. Feldkompanie in der Stellung. / A 9. század a tűzvonalban. ([289]) [Abb.]: Technische Verstärkung des Trichters. / A megerősitett tölcsér. (290) Der 4. und 6. Juni 1916. / A nagy orosz offenziva első napja. ([291]) [Abb.]: ([291]) [6 Abb.]: AUS DEN KÄMPFEN DER DREIUNDZWANZIGER. / HARCBAN A HUSZONHÁRMAS. (1)1. Am Marsche zu den Stellungen bei Jablonki. / A jablonkii állásokba vonulunk. (2)2. Kampf im Walde. / Ütközet az erdőben. (3)3. Ein Horchposten im Winter. / Őrszem a hóban. (4)4. Die II. Maschinengewehrabt. im Gefechte bei Hladky. / A II. gépfegyverosztag a Hladky melletti ütközetben. (5)5. Die Heimkehr der verwundeten 23-er. / Sebesült 23-asok útban hazafelé. (6)Der Sprengtrichter bei Hladky. / A Hladky melletti robbantási tölcsér. ([293]) [7 Abb.]: BILDER AUS GALIZIEN. / GALICIA KÉPEK. (1)1. Eine Evakuirung. / Egy kiüritett falu lakossága. (2)2. Ein zalosceer Bürger / Egy zaloscei polgár. (3)Eine russische Familie. / Egy orosz család. (4)4. Der Gemeindevorstand. / A község feje. (5)5. Ein Trümmelhaufen. / Tünődés a romokon. (6)6. Stilleben hinter der Front. / Csendélet a front mögöt. (7)7. Ein Laden in Zalosce. / Egy zahloscei bolt. ([295]) Wenn der Infanterist Husaren fängt. / Huszárt fogott a baka. ([297]) [Abb.]: Flüchtlinge. / Menekülők. ([297]) [5 Abb.]: BILDER VON DEM XXI. MARSCHBATAILLON. / KÉPEK A XXI: MENETZÁSZLÓALJBÓL. ([299]) [Abb.]: (300) Die Photographie im Kriege. Eine Plauderei aus der Kriegserfahrung. ([301]) [Abb.]: Ein Trainstaffel. / Kocsitábor. ([301]) [10 Abb.]: KRIEGSAUFNAHMEN DES GENERALSTABSOBERSTEN RITTER VON KARNITSCHNIGG. / LOVAG KARNITSCHNIGG VEZÉRKARI EZREDES HARCTÉRI FELVÉTELEI. (1)1. Rauhreifmorgen in der Stellung. / Rügyfakadás a fedezékben. (2)2. Waldstellung. / Fedezék az erdőben. (3)3. Kriegsbrücke an der Weichsel. / Hadihid a Visztulán. (4)4. Sumpfstellung. / Fedezék a mocsárban. (5)5. Russische Vorstellung. / Orosz előállások. (6)6. Starke russische Stellung. / Erős orosz fedezék. (7)Erbeutete Kosakenpferde. / Zsákmányolt kozáklovak. (8)8. Winter in der Stellung. / Tél a fedezékben. (9)9. Quartier des Regimentskommandos. / Az ezredparancsnok palotája. (10)Ewiger Frieden. / Ahol már béke van. ([302]) [8 Abb.]: KRIEGSAUFNAHMEN DES OBERSTEN RITTER VON KARNITSCHNIGG. / LOVAG KARNITSCHNIGG EZREDES FELVÉTELEI. (1)1. Die Dorfschöne. / A falu szépe. (2)2. Eine Windmühle an der russischen Grenze. / Szélmalom az orosz határon. (3)3. Läuseplage bei einer polnischen Familie. / Tetüritás lengyel családnál. (4)4. Beim Handeln. / Az üzletkötés. (5)5. Ein Militärfriedhof bei Brody. / Katonatemető Brodban. (6)6. Studienkopf aus Galicien. / Galiciai tanulmányfej. (7)7. Nach der Plünderung der Kosaken. / A kozákok fosztogatása után. (8)Generalstabsoberst Maximilian Ritter v. Karnitschnigg. / Lovag Karnitschnigg Miksa vezérkari ezredes. ([303]) Die Tätigkeit des Militärgerichtes im Felde. ([305]) [3 Abb.]: (3)Der Lohn eines Spions. / Egy kém jutalma. ([305]) [7 Abb.]: DAS FELDGERICHT UND DIE FELDPOST. / A HADIRÓSÁG ÉS A TÁBORI POSTA. (1)1. Sanitätswagen mit Krankentransport. / Betegszállitó-kocsi. (2)2. Oberstabsarzt Dr. Alexander Reichenberg, Sanitätschef der 32. I. T. D. / Dr. Reichenberg Sándor főtörzsorvos, a 32-ik gyaloghadosztály egészségügyi főnöke. (3)3. Sezieren an der Front beim Feldgericht der 32. I. T. D. / Hadbirósági bonczolás a harctéren. (4)4. Protokollaufnahme über das Sezierungsergebnis. / A boncolási jegyzőkönyv elkészitése. (5)5. Divisions-Sanitätsanstalt 32 in Nesterowce. / A 32-ik hadosztály kórháza Nesterowce-n. (6), (7)6-7. Die Feldpost 632. / A 632-es tábori posta. ([306]) Háború a front mögött. A 23-asok gazdasági berendezkedése a harctéren. ([307]) [Abb.]: Erntearbeit der Dreiundzwanziger. / Arat a huszonhármas. ([307]) [6 Abb.]: HINTER DER FRONT. / A FRONT MÖGÖTT. (1)1. Drescharbeiten beim Prov.-Train. / Cséplési munkák a trénnél. (2)2. Die Haferfassung. / A zab kiosztása. (3)3. Der Gefechtstrain im Walde bei Blich. / Az ezred trénje a blichi erdőben. (4)4. Die Regimentskantine in Kokutkovče. / Az ezredkantin Kokutkovčén. (6)6. Ein Trainstall bei Blich. / A trén istállója Blich mellett. ([308]) [Abb.]: Bei der Proviantur. / Az ezred provianturájánál. (309) [Abb.]: DIE RECHNUNGSUNTEROFFIZIERE DES REGIMENTS IM FELDE BEI EINER REGIMENTSKOMMANDOABFERTIGUNG IM MAI 1916. / AZ EZRED SZÁMVIVŐALTISZTJEI A HARCTÉREN AZ EZREDPARANCS KIADÁSÁNÁL 1916 MÁJUSBAN. (310) [5 Abb.]: HINTER DER FRONT. / A FRONT MÖGÖTT. (1)1. Kompaniekanzlei im Felde. / Századiroda a táborban. (2)2. Im Spitalszuge. / A kórhazvonaton. (3)3. Eine Feldmesse in Lopuszany. / Tábori mise Lopuszanyban. (4)4. Feldmesse in Blich. / Tábori mise Blichben. (5)5. Wasserweihe an der Strypa. / Vizkeresztelés a Strypán. (310) Akik nem fegyverrel harcolnak. Mozaik a frontmögöttiekről. ([312]) [Abb.]: Die Fahrküche in Bewegung. / Útban a tábori konyha. ([312]) [Abb.]: Errichtung einer Küche. / Épül a konyha. (313) [5 Abb.]: INTERESSANTE BILDER. / ÉRDEKES KÉPEK. (1)Soldaten mit Gasschutzmasken. / Katonák gázvédő-álarccal. (2)Zusammentreffen nach 20 Monaten im Felde. Hptm. Kralj und sein Bruder. / Találkozás a harctéren 20 hónap után Kralj százados és fivére. (3)Ein Granatvolltreffer beim Brigadirkommando. / Gránát telitalálat a dandárparancsnokságnál. (4)Offiziersbad beim Brigadierkommando. / Tisztifürdő a brigádparancsnokságnál. (5)Leutnant Schneider mit der "Mici". Das Rehlein des Regiments. Nach langer "Frontdienstleistung", wurde es dem Budapester Tiergarten geschenkt. / Schneider hadnagy a "Mici"-vel, az ezred őzikéjével, melyet hosszú "frontszolgálat" után a budapesti állatkertnek ajándékoztak. ([314]) [Abb.]: An der Front geborene Füllen. / A fronton született csikók. (315) [6 Abb.]: SANITÄTSDIENST IM FELDE. / SZANITÉCSZOLGÁLAT A HARCTÉREN. (1)1. Verwundetenpflege. / Orosz sbesülteket kötöznek. (2)2. Ein deutscher Sanitätssoldat mit dem Sanitätshund. / Német szantiéc a szanitéckutyával. (3)3. Die Kirche als Hilfsplatz. / A templom, mint kötözőhely. (4)4. Der Hilfsplatz in voller Arbeit. / A segélyhely munkában. (5)5. Eine Sanitäts-Patrouille in den Karpathen. / Szanitécjárőr a Kárpátokban. (6)6. Die Auto-Sanitätskolonne. / Sanitécautomobilok. ([316]) A kokutkowcei 23-as katonatemető. ([317]) [Abb.]: 23-er Heldenfriedhof. / A hol a mi hőseink nyugosznak. ([317]) [4 Abb.]: AUS UNSEREM HELDENFRIEDHOF. / HŐSEINK TEMETŐJÉBŐL. (1)Ein Heldengrab in Galizien. / Katonasir Galiciában. (2)Am Grabe des deutschen Kameraden. / A német bajtárs sirjánál. (3)Neue Gräber im alten Friedhof. / Új sirok a régi temetőben. (4)Heldenbegräbnis bei Kokutkovce. / Katonatemetés Kokutkovcén. ([318]) Die Feldpost 632. ([319]) [Abb.]: Ankunft der Feldpost nach Tvarda. / A tábori posta megérkezése Tvardára. ([319]) [4 Abb.]: WINDSTILLE HINTER DER FRONT. / SZÉLCSEND S FRONT MÖGÖTT. (1)1. Das Kloster Podkamien. / A podkamieni kolostor. (2)2. Die Sereth-Brücke bei Zalosče. / A zalosčei Sereth-hid. (3)3. Wiederaufbau einer Brücke. / Hidat vernek a pionnirok. (4)4. Ansicht von Stary-Zalosče. / Stary-Zalosčei részlet. ([320]) [2 Abb.]: (1)1. DIE MUSIK DES ERSATZBATAILLONS. / A PÓTZÁSZLÓALJ ZENEKARA. (2)2. DIE REGIMENTSMUSIK IM FELDE. / AZ EZRED ZENEKARA A TÁBORBAN. ([321]) Die Rolle des ersatzbataillons im Weltkriege. / A pótzászlóalj szerepe a világ-háborúban. ([322]) [Abb.]: ([322]) [2 Abb.]: (1)1. EIDESLEISTUNG DES XX. MARSCHBATAILLONS. / 1. A XX. MENETZÁSZLÓALJ ESKÜTÉTELE. (2)2. FELDMESSE VOR DER EIDESLEISTUNG. / 2. TÁBORI MISE AZ ESKÜTÉTEL ELŐTT. ([324]) A káderirodában. ([325]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Versammlung rekonvaleszenter Offiziere in Budapest. / Üdülő tisztjeink Budapesten. (2)Generalmajor Otto von Gössmann eingeteilt beim Militärkommando in Budapest. Inspiziert die Ers.-Baone und kontrolliert auf Grund seiner Fronterfahrung die Ausbildung. / Gössmann Otto vezérőrnagy a budapesti katonai parancsnokságnál beosztva. A pótzászlóaljak szemléjét teljesiti s harctéri tapasztalatai alapján ellenőrzi a kiképzést. ([325]) [Abb.]: DAS OFFIZIERSKORPS DES RESERVEBATAILLONS IM MAI 1916. / A TARTALÉKZÁSZLÓALJ TIRZTIKARA 1916 MÁJUSBAN. Leipnik, Mérai, Schartner, Zoltán, Dr. Simon, Lieblich, Dr. Futó, Földes, Beyer, Jakab, Balkányi, Császár, Schmiedt, Dr. Balthes, Seehofer, Radó, Fodor, Zimmerhackl (326) [3 Abb.]: K . U. K. ERSATZBATAILLONSKOMMANDO N° 23. / A ZOMBORI PÓTZÁSZLÓALJPARANCSNOKSÁG. (1)1. Tätigkeit im Augmentationsmagazin des Ers.-Baons. / Munka a pótkeret felszerelési raktárában. (2)2. Offiziere und Hilfspersonal beim Ers.-Baonskader. / A pótkeret tisztikara és irodaszemélyzete. (3)3. K. u. K. Ergänzungsbezirkskommando No 23. / A cs. és kir. 23. sz. hadkriegészitőparancsnokság. ([327]) Beim Kader. / A káder életéből. ([328]) [Abb.]: Im Hofe der Franz Josef Kaserne. / A zombori Ferenc József laktanya udvarán. ([328]) [Abb.]: Detailansicht von Zborow. / Zborowi utcarésztlet. (329) [3 Abb.]: BILDER VOM ERSATZBATAILLON. / A PÓTZÁSZLÓALJ KÉPEI. (1)1. Offizierskorps der I. Ersatzkompanie im Aug. 1914. / Az első pótszázad tisztikara 1914 aug.-ban. (2)2. Ein Telephonkurs beim Ersatzbataillon. / A pótzászlóalj egyik telefon tanfolyama. (3)3. Landsturmleute (48 - 50. Jahrgang) in Zombor. / A 48 - 50 éves jó öreg népfölkelők Zomborban. ([330]) Der Krieg und das Ersatzbataillon. / A háború és a Pótkeretzászlóalj. ([331]) [Abb.]: Löhnungsauszahlung. / Zsoldfizetés. ([331]) [3 Abb.]: BILDER AUS DEM RESERVESPITAL IN ZOMBOR. / KÉPEK A ZOMBORI TARTALÉK-KÓRHÁZBÓL. ([333]) Der Militär-Sanitätsdienst in Zombor während des Weltkrieges. / A zombori katonai egészségügyi szolgálat a világháború alatt. ([334]) [Abb.]: Ärztestab des Res.-Spitales in Zombor. / A zombori tartelék-kórház orvosi kara. ([334]) [2 Abb.]: (1)1. ÄRZTESTAB DES K. U. K. RESERVESPITALS IN ZOMBOR. / 1. A ZOMBORI CS. ÉS KIR. TARTALÉKKÓRHÁZ ORVOSI KARA. (2)2. KANZLEIPERSONAL DES K. U. K. RESERVESPITALS IN ZOMBOR. / 2. A ZOMBORI CS. ÉS KIR. TART. KÓRHÁZ IRODAI SZEMÉLYZETE. ([335]) [Abb.]: Das bakteriologische Laboratorium des Zomborer Res.-Spitals. / A zombori tart. kórház bakteriologiai laboratoriuma. (338) [Abb.]: Sterilisator des Zomborer Res.-Spitals. / A zombori tart. kórház fertőtlenitő intézete. (339) [3 Abb.]: SANITÄTSDIENST IN ZOMBOR. / A ZOMBORI EGÉSZSÉGÜGYI SZOLGÁLAT. (1)1. Das Marodenzimmer des Ersatzbataillons in Zombor. / A pótzászlóalj zombori maródiszobája. (2)2. Das Kanzleipersonal des k. u. k. Reserve-Spitals in Zombor. / A zombori tartalékkórház irodai személyzete. (3)3. Ärzte und Pflegerinnen des Reserve-Spitals im Aug. 1914. / A tartalékkórház orvosai és ápolónői 1914 aug.-ban. ([340]) [Gedicht]: Das rote Kreuz. ([341]) [Abb.]: ([341]) Erholungsheim der 23-er. (Die Rekonvaleszentenabteilung des Regiments.) / A zombori üdülőtelep. Az ezred lábadozó osztaga. (342) [4 Abb.]: DIE 23-ER REKONVALESZENTENABTEILUNG. / A 23-ASOK ZOMBORI ÜDÜLŐTELEPÉRŐL. (1)1. Oberst Johann Puttnik, Kommandant. Puttnik János ezredes, parancsnok. (2)2. Dr. Johann Duchon Abteilungschefarzt. / Dr. Duchon János, a telep főorvosa. (3)3. Zanderinstitut der Rek.-Abteilung. / A telep Zanderintézete. (4)4. Mannschaft der Rek.-Abt. im Mai 1916. / A telep legénysége 1916 májusában. ([343]) Das Soldatenmaterial des k. u. k. Inf.-Reg. No 23. / A cs. és kir. 23. gyalogezred katonaanyaga. ([344]) [Abb.]: Schneeschaufeln auf der Zborower Strasse. / Hólapátolás a Zborow felé vezető úton. ([344]) [2 Abb.]: DAS KOMMANDO UND DIE MANNSCHAFT DER PFERDESAMMELSTATION IN ZOMBOR. / A ZOMBORI LOGYŰJTŐÁLLOMÁS PARANCSNOKSÁGA ÉS LEGÉNYSÉGE. ([345]) Die Zomborer Pferdesammel-Station. / A zombori lógyűjtő-állomás. (346) [Abb.]: Rittm. Baron Hugó Gudenus. (346) [3 Abb.]: MANNSCHAFT DER ZOMBORER PFERDESAMMELSTATION. / A ZOMBORI LÓGYÜJTŐÁLLOMÁS LEGÉNYSÉGE. ([347]) Harcteri noteszemből. ([348]) [Abb.]: ZBOROW ([348]) [Abb.]: Frohe Stunden während des Presowceer Reservelebens. / Vidám élet a presowcei tartalékban. (349) Az én csendes szomszédom. Kárpáti emlék. ([350]) [2 Abb.]: (2)Heldengräber in den Karpaten / Kárpáti sir. ([350]) [Abb.]: Skipatrouille in den Karpaten. / Skijárőr a Kárpátokban. (351) [6 Abb.]: INTERESSANTE BILDER. / ÉRDEKES KÉPEK. (1)Wohnaus der 32. I.-T.-D. in Nowy-Staw im August 1915. / A 32. gyaloghadosztálytörzs kaása Nowy-Stawban 1915 augusztusában (2)Seine Majestät als Thronfolger beim 32. I.-T.-Divisionskommando an der Syred-Höhe. / A király trónörökös korában a 32. gyaloghadosztály-parancsnokságnál a Syred-magaslaton. (3)Eine Gewehrvisite. / Fegyvervizit. (4)Am Hilsplatze. / A segélyhelyen. (5)Die 9. Kompanie. / A 9. század. (6)Die II. M. G. Abteilung. / A II. géppuskás osztag. ([352]) [2 Gedichte]: (1)Mutters Bild. (2)Pardon / privátügy. (353) [Gedicht]: Valahol messze. (354) A régi Bácskáról. (354) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kommunion an der Front. / Áldozás a harctéren. (2)Strasse in Turka. / Tirkai utcarésztlet. (354) A huszonhármas árvákért. (355) [Abb.]: Redaktion des Kriegsalbums. / A Hadialbum szerkesztősége. (355) [7 Abb.]: INTERESSANTE BILDER. / ÉRDEKES KÉPEK. (1)Inft. Karl Belosevits. Gefallen am 30. März 1915. / Belosevits Károly közlegény. Volt Szt-Ferencrendi növendék. Önként jelentkezett. Elesett 1915 március 30-án. (2)Die moderne Troglodyten. / A modern barlanglakók. (3)Der älteste 23.-er Feldw. Johann Repits. Hat sich mit 76 Jahren freiwillig gemeldet und ist während des Krieges gestorben. / A legöregebb 23-as. Repits János őrmester 76 éves korában önkent jelentkezett s a háború alatt, szolgálantának teljesitése közben elhalt. (4)Oberst Wilhelm v. Dominič. / Dominič Vilmos ezredes. (5)Das Gruppengewehr. Konstruirt vom Obst. Dominič. / Dominič ezredes által feltalált csoportfegyver. (6)Während der Rast. / Pihenés közben. (7)Einjährig-Freiwillige im Menage-Saal. / Az önkéntes iskola ebéd közben. ([356]) Die Geschichte der Wohltätigkeitsaktion des Regiments. / Az ezred jótékony-mozgalmának története. (357) [Abb.]: Ein Los der Kriegswohltätigkeits-Lotterie des II/23. Feldbataillons. / A II/23. zászlóalj táborban rendezett jótékony sorsjatékának sorsjegye. (357) [Abb.]: Ein Los der Regiments-Wohltätigkeits-Lotterie. / Az ezred jótékony sorsjátékának sorsjegye. (359) [Abb.]: Eine Verschlussmarke zu Gunsten des Rgmts-Witwen- u. Waisenfonds. / Záróbélyeg az ezred özvegy-, árva- és rokkant- alapja javára. (360) [Abb.]: PLAKATE DER KRIEGSALBUMAKTION. / A HADIALBUM MOZGALOM PLAKÁTJAIBÓL. ([361]) Die Wohltätigkeitsaktion des Regiments in der Zukunft. Anregung des Lt. i. d. Res. Josef Eugen Kun zur endgültigen Lösung der Kriegshilfefrage. / Az ezred jótékony-mozgalma a jövőben. Kun József Jenő tart. hadnagy javaslata a hadsegélyezés kérdésének végleges megoldására. ([362]) I. Die Geschäftszweige der Aktiengesellschaft. / I. A részvénytársaság üzletágai. (364) 1. Lebensversicherung der Regimentsangehörigen für Invaliditäts- oder Todesfall. / 1. Ezredbeliek életbiztositása rokkantság vagy halál esetére. (364) 2. Landwirtschaftliche Motoren-Lohnarbeit. / 2. Motoros mezőgazdasági gépeknek bérmunka utján való nagymérvű üzembehelyezése. (365) 3. Errichtung einer Lebensmittelzentrale. / 3. Élelmiszerközpont létesitése. (366) 4. Import- und Exportgeschäft. Produktenverwertung. / 4. Behozatali és kiviteli üzlet és terményértékesités. (366) 5. Lieferungen. / 5. Szállitások. (367) 6. Andere Geschäftszweige. / 6. Egyéb üzletágak. (367) II. Das soziale Programm der Aktiengesellschaft. / II. A részvénytársaság szociális programja. (368) 1. Ausbildung und Beschäftigung der Invaliden. / 1. A rokkantak kiképzése és foglakoztatása. (368) 2. Versorgung und Unterstützung der Witwen und Waisen. / 2. Az árvák és özvegyek ellátása és segélyezése. (369) 3. Stellengewährung und Vermittlung für Regimentsangehörige. / 3. Állások nyujtása és közvetitése ezredbeliek számára. (370) III. Anerkennende Aufnahme des Projektes. / III. A tervezet elismerő fogadtatása. (371) Grosse Spender und Förderer des Hilfsfonds. Ein goldenes Kapitel der Wohltätigkeit. / A nagyobb adakozók és az alap támogatói. A jótékonyság aranyfejezete. (377) [Abb.]: (381) [19 Abb.]: MITARBEITER DES KRIEGSALBUMS. / A HADIALBUM MUNKATÁRSAI. (1)Ludwig v. Mezey, (2)Eduard May, (3)Karl Erhart, (4)Alexander Székely, (5)Robert Kautz, (6)Ludwig Baligovics, (7)Friedrich v. Thellman, (8)Branko Kralj, (9)Desider Kelety, (10)Julius v. Vidale, (11)Karl Glöckner, (12)Maximilian v. Karnitschnigg, (13)Desider Füleki, (14)Eugen Nowinsky, (15)Zoltán v. Horánszky, (16)Friedrich v. Tesař, (17)Ernst Kovacsits Denkmayer, (18)Wilhelm Benedikt, (19)Adalbert Sternberg ([382]) [18 Abb.]: MITARBEITER DES KRIEGSALBUMS. / A HADIALBUM MUNKATÁRSAI. (1)Ladislaus Czebe (2)Heinrich Obláth (3)Karl Denk (4)Richard Schneider (5)Georg Hajnal (6)Emerich Szeitz (7)Georg Vjda (8)Alexander Bánóczy (9)Josef Eugen Kun (10)Ernst Ballagi (11)Nikolaus Biber (12)Moritz Grochmann (13)Johann Antal (14)Wilhelm Alpár (15)Eugen Strisch-Eberhard (16)Alexander Ernst (17)Theodor Schwartz (18)Alexander Alpár (Engelmann) ([383]) Die Mitarbeiter des Kriegsalbums. / A hadialbum munkatársai. ([383]) An unsere Nachkommen. Epilog. / Az utódokhoz. Epilogus. ([385]) [Abb.]: Erntefest in Horpin. / Aratási hálaadás Horpinban. ([385]) [Abb.]: (386) Illustrierte Kriegszeitung der k. u. k. 32. Infanterie-Truppendivision. 24. Dezember 1916 / KÉPES HADIUJSÁG A 32. gyaloghadosztály tábori lapja. December 24 ([387]) [Abb.]: Kaiser und König Karl / Károly Király ([387]) [Briefe]: Illustrierte Kriegszeitung. / Képes Hadiujság. (388) Aus unserer Division / A hadosztály köreből (389) Belobigung. Vom Divisionskommando: / Dicséretek. A hadosztályparancsnokságtól: Regimentszusammenkunft. / Ötéves találkozó. (389) [Tabelle]: Übersicht der Dekorationen bei den Regimentern der 32. Division. / A 32. hadosztálybeli ezredek kitüntetéseinek statisztikája. (389) [Todesanzeige]: Franczem Ilija, Komáromi Jakob, Salomon Franz, Klucska Anton, Raits Alexander, Willand Josef, (390) Aus dem goldenen Buche der Division. I. R. 23. Fähnrich Julius Faragó. / A hadosztály aranykönyvéből. 23. gyalogezred. Fargó Gyula zászlós (390) Militärische Nachrichten. / Katonai hirek. (391) Aufruf des Kriegspressequartiers. Billige Beschaffung des Montur- und Ausrüstungsbedarfes für Offiziere. Das Brot der reisenden Soldaten. / A sajtóhadiszállás felhivása. A tisztek ruházati és felszerelési szük´segleteinek olcsó beszerzése. Úton levő legénységi egyének kenyere. (391) [Gedicht]: A zombori 23-as. (391) Wohltätigkeitswesen bei der Division. / A hadosztály jótékony mozgalmai. Aus der Bácska. / Cácskai hirek. (392) Belletristisches. / Tárcák. (393) [2 Gedichte]: (1)Es war einmal. (2)Levél. (393) Ein wahres Geschichtchen. (393) Feldgrauer Humor. / Vidámságok a táborból. (394) Liebesgabe. Klassischer Stosseufzer eines Einjährigen beim Schanzen. In der Stellung. Im Schützengraben. Wandlung. / A vizsgálóbiró nótája. A század cégjegyzője. Malachistória. (394) Die richtige Antwort. Der Ernst der Zeit. Granatsplitter. Sprichwörter. Soldatenwunsch. / A háboru vége. A műkincs. Bakanyelven. (395) Zerstreuungsecke. / Szórakozás. (396) [Noten]: Slankamen-Marsch / Az ezred indulója. (397) Aufruf an die 23-er Regimentsangehörigen und deren Verwandten. / Felhivás a 23-as ezredbeliekhez és azok rokonaihoz. (398) Inhaltsverzeichnis / Tartalomjegyzék. ([399]) Einband (404) Einband (405)

KEMAL'S INFIDELITY AND ITS INFLUENTIAL FACTOR IN ORHAN PAMUK'S THE MUSEUM OF INNOCENCE Ayu Setya Rahayu English Department, Language and Arts Faculty, State University of Surabaya cosmeticmiracle@yahoo.com Drs. Much. Khoiri M.Si. English Department, Language and Arts Faculty, State University of Surabaya much_choiri@yahoo.com Abstract Infidelity is defined as unfaithfulness of being unreliable or being attracted to someone other than one relationship partner. There are two types of infidelity, emotional and sexual infidelity. What constitutes an act of infidelity varies within cultures and depends on the type of relationship that exists between people.This study is aimed to present infidelity as experinced by Kemal as the main character in Orhan Pamuk's The Museum of Innocence, and to reveal the most influential factor of his infidelity.The study uses descriptive qualitative research with psychoanalitic approach. The object of the study is The Museum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk, published in New York by vintage books in 2009. The data are in the form of quotation, fragments, and dialogues or monologues that indicated the thoughts and action concerning form of infidelity, and also its most influential factor. The data is analyzed by applying the theory of infidelity by Dirgosta and Barta, and also the most influential factor of it. This study also uses the theory of love and will by Rollo May to reveal his influential factor that lead to his infidelity based on the concept above and the quotation depicted in the novel.The result of this study shows thatKemal, the main character of this novel, commits both sexual and emotional infidelity. Initially, he becomes emotionally connected with someone outside of his relationship named Fusun. One way of looking at emotional infidelity is, that it is very dangerous, because it is not only takes away time and energy from his relationship, but it lead him to sexual infidelity and to the end of his engagement. Andthe main factors of Kemal's infidelity represented from this novel is he falls in love with someone else named Fusun. Actually, this novel is story of love of Kemal and Fusun, then his feeling of love that prompted him to take an action in certain direction which can realize his purpose of love. Because in love, there is definitely a will to unite with beloved people, then it gives rise a boost in his heart to betray his fiancee. Keywords: Infdelity, love, will, novel Abstrak Perselingkuhan didefinisikan sebagai ketidaksetiaan, diandalkan atau tertarik pada orang lain di luar dari pasangannya . Ada dua jenis perselingkuhan , perselingkuhan emosional dan seksual . Yang merupakan suatu tindakan perselingkuhan bervariasi dalam budaya dan tergantung pada jenis hubungan yang ada antara manusia. Penelitian ini bertujuan untuk menyajikan perselingkuhan yang di alami oleh Kemal sebagai sebagai tokoh utama dalam novel berjudul The Museum of Innocence karya Orhan Pamuk, dan untuk mengungkap faktor yang paling berpengaruh dalam perselingkuhannya.Penelitian ini menggunakan penelitian deskriptif kualitatif dengan pendekatan psikoanalisis . Objek penelitiaan ini adalah novel The Museum of Innocence karya Orhan Pamuk , yang diterbitkan di New York oleh vintage books tahun 2009 . Data tersebutdi peroleh dalam bentuk kutipan , fragmen , dan dialog atau monolog yang menunjukkan pemikiran dan tindakan mengenai bentuk perselingkuhan Kemal dan juga faktor yang paling berpengaruh. Data dianalisis dengan menerapkan teori perselingkuhan oleh Dirgosta dan Barta untuk mengungkapkan refleksi penggambaran perselingkuhan Kemal dan juga faktor yang paling berpengaruh. Penelitian ini juga menggunakan teori cinta dan keinginan oleh Rollo May untuk mengungkapkan faktor paling berpengaruh yang mengarah pada perselingkuhan yang didasarkan pada konsep di atas dan kutipan yang digambarkan dalam novel. Penelitian ini menunjukkan bahwa Kemal , tokoh utama dalam novel ini , melakukan perselingkuhan baik seksual mapun emosional . Awalnya , ia menjadi terhubung secara dengan seseorang di luar hubungannya, bernama Fusun . Salah satu cara untuk melihat perselingkuhan emosional adalah , bahwa sangat berbahaya , karena tidak hanya menghilangkan waktu dan energi dari hubungannya sebelumnya , namun membawanya ke perselingkuhan seksual, hingga merusak pertunangannya dengan Sibel. Dan faktor utama perselingkuhan oleh Kemal yang tergambar dalam novel ini adalah ia jatuh cinta dengan orang lain bernama Fusun . Sebenarnya , novel ini adalah kisah cinta Kemal dan Fusun , maka perasaannya cinta yang mendorongnya untuk mengambil tindakan dalam arah tertentu yang dapat mewujudkan tujuan cintanya . Karena di dalam cinta , pasti ada keinginan untuk bersatu dengan orang-orang yang di cintainya, kemudian memberikan dorongan dalam hatinya untuk mengkhianati tunangannya . Kata kunci: Infidelity, love, will, novel Introduction Within the context of intimate relationships, infidelity has been defined as a partner's violation of norms pertaining to the level of emotional or physical intimacy in which people engaged in outside the relationship (Drigotas & Barta, 2001:45). In the currentera,many strange phenomena appear and done by society. One of the interesting behavior in humansare donetoday is infidelity and that is very oftenaround environment. Not only household commit infidelity, but also in interpersonal relationship. The phenomenon of infidelity is dominant on the socioeconomic statu sof middle to top, especially in big cities. Moreover, the problem of infidelity is often atrigger forvarious cases of divorce or even murder. There are two kinds of infidelity that occurs in today's modern society, the emotional and sexual infidelity.Emotional infidelity in channeling emotional feeling for someone outside the relationship or marriage, whilesexual infidelity isi having sexual intercourse outside of relationship or marriage.The case of emotional infidelity begin when two beings of different sex, begin exchange of information, and the feelings that it was actually supposed to be feel just exclusive for partner. And started to be worse when there is no excitement and keep the distance with ypartner and began to yearn to talk to someone else, rather than the one romantic partners. The climax it will past the limit and begin to emerge the real problem in the relationship that shouldn't happen, that's secrets and lies. And when the lie begins,it will difficult to stop. Then, sexual infidelity is just waiting for the right moment. Talking about infidelity, nobody can remove it from the word "love", because if the lovethat isbuilt with the previous couple is strong and sturdy, then the affair could have been avoided. Love is a natural thingin human life. Love is a basic human emotion, but understanding how and why it happens is not necessarily easy. In fact, for a long time, many people suggested that love was simply something that they couldn't understand. Accoding to Erich Fromm, to love somebody is not just a strong feeling, but it is a decision, it is a judgement, and it is a promise,if love were only a feeling there would be no basis for the promise to love each other forever (McGee G. Mark, 1980:208).It means that if the love is just relying on feeling, without the underlying on bond and the sacred promise, as well as the commitment to be together forever, then that love won'tlast long. Psychologist Rollo May proposed that romantic love is made up of four elements: sex, eros, philia, and agape.In conclusion, adult personal relationships containing four forms of love, this relationship based on the sexual satisfaction, a desire for eternal unification and non egoistic concern for the welfare of others. But unfortunately, this kind of authentic love quite difficult to accomplish. At the same time, love hint of tenderness, passion, commitment, and devote themselves to the beloved personal interests, from there, love gives rise to will, the will is an impulse that comes from love, where lover have a will to unite with people they love (May, 1969: 146). In this case, if the love for partneris not strong enough to keep the relationship in order to survive and also the lack of commitment and promise, then sometime there will arise a feeling of love to others, and if the love is greater than the old partner, then the infidelity could happen. In literature like novel, many of whichraised issue of infidelity, where in novel, is related to the human's emotion and expression of feeling, Including ideas, motivation, and describe it by using language. Novel also has people or characters with their own personalities that can represent and act to carry issues that occur in the society. Morover, the dispositive of characters is described in outline only and the events described, contains a mental conflict, which resulted in a change of fortunes. A novel TheMuseum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk has many sources in culture, love, social, combined into a variety of events and actions. The Museum of Innocence by Orhan Pamuk also depicts infidelity between a rich man and a poor shop girl, in the background of the Turkish city which at that time was experiencing modernization. These issues of infidelity in the background of love willbe discussed in more interesting and more complex from a variety of perspectives in one character. Orhan Pamuk was born in Istanbul in 1952 and grew up in a large family similar to those which he describes in his novelsCevdet Bey and His SonsandThe Black Book, in the wealthy westernised district of Nisantasi. As he writes in his autobiographical bookIstanbul, from his childhood until the age of 22 he devoted himself largely to painting and dreamed of becoming an artist. After graduating from the secular American Robert College in Istanbul, he studied architecture at Istanbul Technical University for three years, but abandoned the course when he gave up his ambition to become an architect and artist. He went on to graduate in journalism from Istanbul University, but never worked as a journalist. At the age of 23 Pamuk decided to become a novelist, and giving up everythingnelsenretreatednintonhisnflatnandnbeganntonwrite. His first novelCevdet Bey and His Sonswas published seven years later in 1982. The novel is the story of three generations of a wealthy Istanbul family living in Nisantasi, Pamuk's own home district. The novel was awarded both the Orhan Kemal and Milliyet literary prizes. The following year Pamuk published his novelThe Silent House, which in French translation won the 1991 Prix de la découverte européene.The White Castle(1985) about the frictions and friendship between a Venetian slave and an Ottoman scholar was published in English and many other languages from 1990 onwards, bringing Pamuk his first international fame. The same year Pamuk went to America, where he was a visiting scholar at Columbia University in New York from 1985 to 1988. It was there that he wrote most of his novelThe Black Book, in which the streets, past, chemistry and texture of Istanbul are described through the story of a lawyer seeking his missing wife. This novel was published in Turkey in 1990, and the French translation won the Prix France Culture.The Black Bookenlarged Pamuk's fame both in Turkey and internationally as an author at once popular and experimental, and able to write about past and present with the same intensity. In 1991 Pamuk's daughter Rüya was born. That year saw the production of a filmHidden Face, whose script by Pamuk was based on a one-page story inThe Black Book. His novelThe New Life, about young university students influenced by a mysterious book, was published in Turkey in 1994 and became one of the most widely read books in Turkish literature.My Name Is Red, about Ottoman and Persian artists and their ways of seeing and portraying the non-western world, told through a love story and family story, was published in 1998. This novel won the French Prix du meilleur livre étranger, the Italian Grinzane Cavour (2002) and the International IMPAC Dublin literary award (2003). From the mid-1990s Pamuk took a critical stance towards the Turkish state in articles about human rights and freedom of thought, although he took little interest in politics.Snow, which he describes as "my first and last political novel" was published in 2002. In this book set in the small city of Kars in northeastern Turkey he experimented with a new type of "political novel", telling the story of violence and tension between political Islamists, soldiers, secularists, and Kurdish and Turkish nationalists.Snowwas selected as one of the best 100 books of 2004 byThe New York Times. In 1999 a selection of his articles on literature and culture written for newspapers and magazines in Turkey and abroad, together with a selection of writings from his private notebooks, was published under the titleOther Colours. Pamuk's most recent book,Istanbul, is a poetical work that is hard to classify, combining the author's early memoirs up to the age of 22, and an essay about the city of Istanbul, illustrated with photographs from his own album, and pictures by western painters and Turkish photographers. Orhan Pamuk's books have been translated into 46 languages, including Georgian, Malayan, Czech, Danish, Japanese, Catalan, as well as English, German and French. Pamuk has been awarded The Peace Prize, considered the most prestigious award in Germany in the field of culture, in 2005. In the same year,Snowreceived the Le Prix Médicis étranger, the award for the best foreign novel in France. Again in 2005, Pamuk was honoured with the Richarda Huck Prize, awarded every three years since 1978 to personalities who "think independently and act bravely."In the same year, he was named among world's 100 intellectuals byProspectmagazine. In 2006,TIMEmagazine chose him as one of the 100 most influential persons of the world. In September 2006, he won the Le Prix Méditerranée étranger for his novelSnow.Pamuk is an honorary member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters, and holds an honorary doctorate from Tilburg University. He is an honorary member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters as well as the Chiese Academy for Social Sciences. Pamuk gives lectures once a year in Columbia University. Lastly, he received the 2006 Nobel Prize for Literature, becoming the second youngest person to receive the award in its history. Apart from three years in New York, Orhan Pamuk has spent all his life in the same streets and district of Istanbul, and he now lives in the building where he was raised. Pamuk has been writing novels for 30 yearsnandnneverndonenanynothernjobnexceptnwriting.(http://www.orhanpamuk.net/biography.aspx) The Museum of Innocenceis the latest Orhan Pamuk's novel, published on August, 2009.Pamuk has been working on the novel for many years and it has been hinted by himself in many interviews during this period. The story, which takes place in Istanbul between 1975 and today, is about obsessive love and the great questionof what is love. This colorful and fabulous novel will not only challenge the reader's thoughts about love, but also those about marriage, sex, passion, family, friendship, and happiness. The story begin with the apparent narrator named Kemal who is engaged to be married to Sibel. Kemal is a rich man when he by chance encounters a long-lost relation, Fusun, a young shopgirl whose beauty stirs all the passion denied him in a society where sex outside marriage is taboo. But Kemal, a young man with high passion has several times having sex with Sibel, and of course it is also more likely to do so with Fusun. Kemalwho really falls in love with Fusun,goes ahead anyway with his long-planned engagement to perfect partner Sibel, then Fusundisappears. Kemal finally breaks off with Sibel, finds Fusun, waits eight years for her to dump her husband (by going to her family's home some four times a week). In relationship, there will be many problems. The union of two different people, usually can cause contention and eventually lead to big problems. Feelings of love, affection, understanding, and accepting shortcomings of couple, is the very need in a relationship. Because according to psychologist Erich Fromm in his book The art of loving (2006:99) love is an essential of human need. That is, if theneed love is not fullfilled it will cause the problems.In this novel, Kemal who had been engaged to a woman with equal social class with him, women withwell education and from a wealthy family, it seems perfect to be his life partner. Kemal eventually leaveshis fiancée in order to pursue his dream to be unite with Fusun.The infidelity issues in the novel has the most significant cause,Kemal lack of affection to his fiancee, so that makes him fall in love with another woman. This novel begin at Istanbul in 1975. Kemal is a rich and engaged manBut when Kemal encounters Füsun, a poor beautiful shopgirl and a distant relation, he becomes enthralled. And once they violate the code of virginity, when sex before married considerd as taboo at that time.The firsttime hemetwithFusunwaswhenhe boughtjennycolon bag tohis fiancee, sibel, an upper-class beautiful girl. The city of Intanbul is captured by pamuk with a romantic touch, sturdy apartments of the rich man, once supported. The lovers met in Merhamet Apartments, in a flat abandoned by his mother. He dated his first secret meeting with Fusun to the spring of 1975. At that time, Pamuk initially planned Kemal to marry Sibel, a fashionable young woman with enlightened views of life, she goes without limits enlightened with Kemal. Love becomes the main motive, when someone can destroy virginity code. Fusun ends their relationship when she learns of Kemal's engagement with Sibel. But Kemal cannot forget her. It will take Kemal almost a year to find her again, a year of driving through every neighbourhood of the enormous city, months of heavy drinking in which he loses all interest in Sibel, even after they move in together. Sibel hopes to save him from what seems an inexplicable sadness, and learning the truth enrages her. To her, Füsun is just "a common shopgirl", a slut, even though they have each only slept with one man. Both sexual and emotional infidelity bound this novel. How kemal lie and keep his secret relationship to sibel, while he loves someone else and having sexual intercourse with Fusun. Psychologist Rollo May defines love into various types, such as sex, eros, philia, and agape. Sex is defined in category where someone loves another person just because of an underlying sexual appetite. Eros is defined as a lover which includes not only sexual intimacy, but also the feeling of love, attention, care so as to make the relationship last. Philia is defined as a sincere friendship, while gape is defined as selfless feeling or don't expecting reward (Jess Feist and Gregory J. Feist, 2009:58-59). In the case of Kemal in this novel, his love for Sibel does not meet all of four elements above, thus making their relationship is not too strong to survive. Then he finds Fusun, and feel the perfect love. In analyzing Kemal's infidelity and the most influential factor, it is used some related concept and one theory. In this thesis, the problem statement is divided into two. The first problem statement deals with how Kemal's infidelityreflected in this novel. While the second problem deals with the most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity. Those problems can be analysed by using the psychological approach as the base of the guide and theory. The first statement is how Kemal's infidelity reflected in The Museum of Innocence. This statement will use the concept of infidelity by American psycologyst, Dirgostra and Barta. This concept is united and merged with the bases of marital or extramarital relationship. There are two kinds of infidelity in this concept. The writer will analyses which kind of infidelity that Kemal uses through the quotations and monologues. Then the second statement is what is the most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity. This statement will also apply the concept of infidelity factor. Actually, the are a lot of infidelity factos, but the writer only use one factor that tha most represent based on quotation in this novel. The factor is love.So, ithe writer will use the theory of love and will that become the most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity. This concept is developed by existential psychologyst, Rollo May. It is about the unity between love and will, this circles of love and will is however affected to his infidelity. Methods Research methodolgy that used in this analysis here must be qualified as an applying in literary appreciation. The thesis is regarded as a descriptive-qualitative study and uses a library research.The data obtained to answer research question study. This study uses novel of Orhan Pamuk entitled The Museum of Innocence that published in 2009 as the data source of this study. The datas are in the form of direct and indirect speech of the characters, dialogues, epilogues and quotations which indicate and represent aspect of infidelity and love and will which is experienced by the main character. This thesis is using the library method in collecting the data. It does not use the statistic method. That is why it is not served in numbering or tables. Library research used an approach in analyzing this study. The kind of library research which is used here is intensive or closely reading to search quotations or phrases. It also used to analyze the literary elements both intrinsic and extrinsic. The references are taken from library and contributing ideas about this study from internet that support the idea of analyzing. Some steps of how the data is analyzed will be described as follows: Classification based on the statement of the problems. This classification is used to avoid the broad discussion. There are two classifications in this study. They are infidelity and The main factor that lead to his infidelity. Describing Kemal's infidelity which is stated from the quotations or statements by using theory of infidelity to be applied to the data. Describing the most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity which is stated from the quotations or statements by using theory of love and will to be applied to the data. RESULT How is the students' writing ability of SMP Muhammadiyah 5 in writing descriptive text after they being taugh by picture puzzle. Infidelity, is the main topic that will be analyzed. Many couples are under the misconception that infidelity only occurs when a man and a woman have sex together. Yet, there are other forms of infidelity such as emotional infidelity.Emotional infidelity may take on different forms, but in general it is the act of forming an emotional connection with someone outside of one's formal relationship. Kemal Brasmaci, the main character of the novel, born as a wealthy and well eucated instanbul family in Nisantasi. His fascinating live, ranging from being a socialite among A class people, and he prefers to live as a modern Turkish, in which at the time, Turkey was undergoing modernization with the influence of European culture. 30-year-old Kemal Basmaci, works as a bussinessman and lives in Merhamet Apartment which will be a silent witness to his secret love adventure with his distance relation, Fusun. Initially, Kemal is set to be engaged to a well educated and high socety girl named Sibel. Kemal first meetsFusun when he bought a Jenny Colon bag to Sibel in Sazalize boutique where Fusun works in. When he step up in Sazalize boutique, Kemal looks like very attentive to every detail in Fusun's clothes and shoes, her yellow skirt, her empty shoe over her long bare legs, her long till Dexterous fingers. Kemal begins to admire Fusun's beauty. Knowing that, because it was less than 10 years they had not met. There was a silence. I looked again into one of the pockets she had just pointed to inside the bag. Her beauty, or her skirt, which was in fact too short, or something else together, had unsettled me, and I couldn't act naturally. (Pamuk, 2009:6) Based on quotation above, Kemal gives the impression of a "darting" man by notices detail of what Fusun wear. Her skirts that look very short, her beauty, and anything else that can not be said. Actually, it does not really matter, but there is something rustled in Kemal's heart. It became the beginning of Kemal's interest feeling to Fusun. Moreover, Kemal also admittes that he can't act naturally when dealing with Fusun, he feels uneasy, but rather, look awkward in front of the opposite sex, there is definitely something special, something that raises passions and encouragement in his heart, even if it happens on the first time he meet. In this case, Kemal commits emotional infidelity by having eventual emotional connection, or a feeling of interest with someone other than one his romantic partner. Beside perform emotional infidelity, Kemal also perfor sexual infidelity has been defined as behaviour of a sexual nature carried out with someone other than one's primary partner.Usually, cheating involves people meeting face – to - face, and then engaging in physical intimacy. Beside having emotional infidelity with Fususn, he also comitted sexual infidelity, because the emotional affair can lead to phsycal affair. the intimate nature of the communication, plus the emotional investment made by the people involved, places an emotional infidelity become more intimate, and perform sexual intercourse, such as having sex kissing, touching, etc. The verry first page in this novel Tells about Kemal's happiest moment of his life. Having sexual intercourse with Fusun in his appartement. We felt the same coolness rising from the musty mattress on which we were making love, the way children play, happily forgetting everything else.(Pamuk, 2009:1) Based on quoatation above, it is clearly mentioned that Kemal comittes sexual infidelity by having sexual contact with Fusun, a woman other than his one romantic partner. In the firs page of this novel, Kemal explained clearly how and the steps of having sex with Fusun, and describes the atmosphere when they were in apartment when doing so. Because having sex is actually become a necessity. They look really enjoyed with the secret relationship, the way the kids played, happy to forget everything else seemed to describe what they both feel at that moment, as if they feel in pleasure without limits and make them forget themselves, forget about all the obstacles and problems that never happened, that there was only pleasure at that time. The second analysis is about The most influential factor of Kemal's infidelity. In this novel, Kemal Brasmaci a perfect gentleman, well educated, came from a wealthy, and respectable family in the city, is set to be married to perfect Sibel, who comes from an equal family as him. Many people assume if they are a perfect match. Kemal actually love Sibel, the woman who would soon be engaged to him. They both underwent a romantic date, having a harmonious family, came into exclusive places, even they both also have made love, although in that era, having sex outside of marriage is considered as taboo. Psychologist Rollo May argues that love is a pleasure, love is a pleasure to the presence of someone, as well as a confirmation of the value and development of the beloved person, just like themselves. Love is able to make a big motivation to someone, which raises the desire to realize the dream to be unite with someone they love. While Will of its own, generating an action to self directed, so that certain goals can be achieved. Kemal actually has already realized if what he has done is the most fatal mistake in his life, even he can not imagine how the devastation that can occur, as a result of these actions. But Still his love for Fusun become a big power that able to beat all obstacle. Kemal has been trying to forget Fusun, consider if he never loved Fusun. But, it can be covered by his feelings love that he could never lose, and always encouraged him to betray his old partner. Finally, Kemal continued to repeat the days of their togetherness, having sexual intercourse in his apartement. I am certain that the fire at the heart of my tale is the desire to relive those moment of love, and my attachment to those pleasure. For years, whenever I recalled those moments, seeking to understand the bond I still felt with her, images would from before my eyes, crowding out reason; for example, Fusun would be sitting on my lap, and I would have taken her large left breast into my moth. (Pamuk, 2009:53) From the quotation above, it is illustrated that Kemal feels her turmoil, that grows more fiery, he even wants to revive the her passion of making love with Fusun, because it is considered as a pleasure for him. Kemal is very attached, and no longer awkward in doing his pleasure in his secret relationship with Fusun. His tremendous sex desire to make love with Fusun, bring it into delusion when they're together. Kemal always be remembered while they are making love, for example when Fusun sits on his lap, and he holds the Fusun's left breast, then puts into his mouth. The thing that Kemal does based on description above is sexual infidelity, because he was having sex with a woman other than his partner. Kemal pleasure in making love with Fusun, is the Will of Kemal who loves Fusun. That is, the Kemal's impulse to commit sexual infidelity influenced by his love for Fusun. It was proved that Kemal has strong emotional ties to Fusun like people who really love his partner, even for many years, Kemal still remember the time they spent together, which can not be removed from his memory. Conclusions From overalls of this study, can be conclude that Kemal comitts infidelity, by having a relationship with Fusun, and violate her engagement to Sibel. In this novel, Kemal commits two types of infidelity, they are emotional and sexual infidelity. Kemal enjoying passionate sexual intercourse and perform a deep emotional attachment with Fusun. Kemal committs both infidelities at the same time. At first, Kemal perform emotional infidelity with Fusun, starting when he met with Fusun in Sanzalize boutique, where Fusun work, he began to admire Fusun, beauty, watching his every movement, pay attention to her clothes. From there, came a strange feeling inside Kemal's heart that he had not been aware of. But over time, that feeling grow stronger. Moreover, the two lovers are getting often met. Emotional Infidelity sounds fairly simple, but it is not as simple as that. Precisely emotional infidelity more dangerous than those who experienced only sexual infidelity. Because sometimes emotional infidelity could lead to a more intimate relationship, and over time will be difficultto integral, as experinced by kemal. As already described above, that emotional infidelity can lead to sexual infidelity, because the people who are already emotionally attached, will also certainly have the desire to have sexual intercourse.In this novel, Kemal also perform sexual activities that are engaged in with someone other than one 's partner. Activities that constitute sexual infidelity include all forms of physical intimacy, from kissing to sexual intercourse. Its pretty clearly described through the evidents in this novel, that Kemal and Fusun often make an appointment to meet at the apartment and Kemal to meet, it is like two people in a drunken romance.It has been shown clearly to the quotation analysis of the first statement problem that Kemal perform his first sexual infidelity, starting by giving a kiss, till make a love. Second conclusion is, actually there must bereasonsbehindKemal's infidelity. But themost crucial factor that is found based on the novel's quotation is his love for Fusun since the beginning of his meeting in a boutique. Initially, Kemal did not have any shortage in his relationship with Sibel, his fiancee.He admitts that he loves Sibel. Even though it is not described implicitlythe describtion of his love for Sibel, but it can be inferredeksplicitly that Kemal was not really love Sibel, it is proven when Kemal seems too easy to fall in love with someone else, and since then, his attention on sibel start to reduced, and even when his relationship with Fusun grows further, he decides to break his engagement with Sibel. People who really love their partner sincerely, certainly will not to do so. Love, which is built by Kemal and Fusun is very great anf strong, exceeding Kemal's love to Sibel, probably thi is because Kemal and Sibel's relationship came from matchmaking. Kemal who love Fusun, give birth to a Will for betraying his fiancee, Sibel. It means that the Will here, is an impulse to do something, without being influenced by the values of the good or bad.Those impulse can take him into a particular direction in which the desired goal can be realized. People who loves someone, like Kemal, definitely have a desire to be happy with Fusun, or want to united with her, So that it can give rise animpulse in his heart to betray his partner, so he could be much longer having relationship with Fusun, a person he love. Refference Drigotas, S.M., & Barta, W. 2001. The cheating heart:Scientific explorations of infidelity.New York: Guildford Press Feist, Jess and Feist, Gregory J. 2009.Teori Kepribadian:Theory of Personality. Terjemahan Sjahputri Smita Prahita. Jakarta:Salemba Humanika --- . 2009. Theories of Personality. Terjemahan Santoso Yudi. Jakarta:Pustaka Belajar Friedman S., Howard, Miriam W. Schustack.(2006). Kepribadian Teori Klasik dan Riset Modern. Jakarta:Erlangga Fromm, Erich, 2006. 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