Mención Internacional en el título de doctor ; Ciberespacio: la última frontera. Aquí es donde empieza la nueva misión de los juristas en buscar nuevas formas de ejercicio de los derechos humanos. Afortunadamente, no es una misión de ciencia ficción, sino un desafío real, actual y lleno de oportunidades. Consideramos que es el mejor momento para proponer esta tesis e iniciar un trabajo de investigación sobre la dinámica del derecho en la era de las nuevas tecnologías. La tesis está fundamentada en la investigación de este nuevo espacio donde ha entrado el ser humano, titular de los derechos y libertades fundamentales. Como cualquier entorno nuevo, despierta la curiosidad, la necesidad de explorar, pero también la necesidad de estar seguro. El ser humano está programado genéticamente para proteger su vida, integridad y libertad en cualquier entorno, tanto físico como virtual. La ciberseguridad es un tema nuevo, que empezó a fomentar los debates solo desde 1988. Estados, empresas privadas y especialistas se dieron cuenta rápidamente de la necesidad de regular este campo, incluso adaptando el derecho internacional a las nuevas realidades. Los conflictos, eventos frecuentes en la sociedad humana, han migrado rápidamente del espacio físico al espacio virtual, al igual que las armas. Los virus informáticos, las aplicaciones invasivas y el software de espionaje sustituyen a las armas y herramientas de guerra clásicas. Las medidas de seguridad propuestas e implementadas por las autoridades estatales con responsabilidades en el ámbito de la seguridad nacional, así como por empresas privadas que desarrollan programas para combatir ciberataques, basados en medidas de ciber espionaje o hack-back1, se adaptan a los nuevos desafíos tecnológicos, pero evitan solucionar problemas importantes para el individuo como el respeto a sus derechos fundamentales, cuyo reconocimiento y regulación le han costado años de lucha y fundamentación filosófico-legal. En este contexto, cuando la vida del ciudadano se traslada, cada vez más al espacio virtual con todos sus elementos - banca por internet, telemedicina, información e investigación de fuentes digitales, comercio electrónico, citas virtuales, realidad virtual - se deben proponer medidas para proteger el ciberespacio que pueden ser diseñadas en correlación directa con las medidas de seguridad aplicadas en el entorno offline. Si el entorno offline está claramente determinado, y hay actores con papeles muy claros (estados, territorios administrativos, instituciones con responsabilidades en el campo de la seguridad y protección de los ciudadanos, etc.), el espacio virtual sigue siendo una jungla, sin límites conocidos y con incipientes formas de órganos de control, que deberían proteger a los usuarios vulnerables para no ser víctimas de los manipuladores digitales. En este momento, las Naciones Unidas a través de sus comisiones y grupos de expertos, ha asumido el papel de garante de los derechos humanos en el ciberespacio, interpretando las disposiciones de los tratados internacionales y elaborando recomendaciones, para ciber conflictos y alianzas entre Estados y grandes empresas con control tecnológico sobre Internet, tanto en términos de contenido como de conexiones informáticas. A nivel de la Unión Europea, el papel de las instituciones comunitarias, bien definido en el proceso de desarrollo y aplicación de las normas jurídicas, permite diseñar un marco jurídico coherente para la política de ciberseguridad, asegurando un sistema de protección eficaz basado en la cooperación entre los Estados miembros, al mismo tiempo con una protección efectiva de los derechos individuales en el entorno virtual. La tradición democrática de los estados europeos contribuye a la identificación de soluciones viables con respecto a la libertad del ciberespacio y la importancia del individuo en la sociedad. El surgimiento y el fortalecimiento del papel de ENISA en la política europea de ciberseguridad, ofrece la ventaja de estandarizar, centralizar y explotar de manera coherente los datos comunicados por los Estados miembros con el fin de desarrollar normativas bien fundamentadas. Asimismo, esta tesis estudia algunas categorías de derechos fundamentales para descubrir la forma en que se ven influenciados por la nueva realidad de la vida cotidiana. El entorno en el que se ha estudiado y conceptualizado estos derechos a lo largo de la historia, hasta la confirmación en diversos instrumentos de derecho internacional, ha cambiado profundamente. Las amenazas comienzan a ser diversas, y para los juristas no especializados en informática, es un gran reto identificar las brechas en los mecanismos informáticos que garanticen y protejan los derechos fundamentales cuando el individuo actúa en el entorno online. Es posible que la generación de juristas nativos digitales se haga cargo del trabajo de los juristas adaptados digitalmente y sea capaz de construir un sistema legal aplicable a este nuevo entorno de vida del individuo. Esto será posible solo dentro de 10 años, cuando la nueva generación creada en la era de las nuevas tecnologías, posea la capacidad de analizar y proponer soluciones legales. La investigación se centra en el derecho a la privacidad y los elementos que lo componen, siendo considerado como uno de los derechos fundamentales más vulnerables en el entorno online. Los derechos derivados, como el derecho al nombre, la identidad, el honor, la dignidad y la integridad física se están transformando y adquiriendo nuevos valores en la era de las nuevas tecnologías. Algunos de estos derechos se transforman, se trasladan al ciberespacio, se adhieren al ser virtual y se convierten en derechos digitales, propios del nuevo entorno social. En el contenido de la tesis se desarrolló un capítulo dedicado a esta nueva categoría de derechos en el que se intenta establecer sus contenidos y las formas de manifestación. Con respecto a los mecanismos necesarios para garantizar el ejercicio de los derechos y libertades fundamentales, el trabajo analiza los distintos niveles de protección: desde el nivel supranacional (internacional), hasta el regional y nacional, específico de cada Estado. Los mecanismos institucionales y jurisdiccionales están organizados en gran medida de acuerdo con las mismas reglas, guiándose por las regulaciones internacionales sobre derechos humanos, en particular, continuando con las regulaciones a nivel regional y estatal. En el nuevo contexto tecnológico, es necesario revisar dichos mecanismos para que mantengan la misma eficiencia deseada en el momento de su creación. Un punto importante de la investigación consiste en el análisis de las restricciones aplicadas a los derechos humanos bajo el imperio de la Ley. Sin referirse a las injerencias ilegales, sino analizamos la injerencia permitida por la ley, especialmente en nombre de la seguridad colectiva. Seguidamente, se muestran los debates y análisis destinados a establecer el punto de equilibrio entre la importancia de un derecho fundamental u otro. Tanto el derecho a la vida privada como el derecho a la seguridad se consideran fundamentales, pero no absolutos. Desde esta perspectiva, se deben establecer límites claros para que la protección de uno no afecte la integridad del otro. Los Estados a veces imponen medidas excesivamente restrictivas del derecho a la privacidad en nombre de la seguridad nacional, y el ciberespacio es el entorno adecuado para tales prácticas. Cualquier práctica de este tipo, situada a uno de los dos extremos, ya sea muy invasiva en la esfera personal o ineficaz desde una perspectiva de seguridad, debe ser reevaluada y relacionada con los derechos humanos, tanto desde una perspectiva individual como colectiva. Por ejemplo, el derecho a la vida privada o el derecho a la seguridad del ser humano puede, dentro de límites razonables, restringir el derecho de otra persona a expresarse o manifestar ciertas necesidades mentales en el espacio digital. Teniendo en cuenta los objetivos propuestos al principio, aplicando los métodos de investigación correspondientes y analizando la literatura, el marco normativo vigente y la jurisprudencia en derechos humanos, esta tesis identifica y enfatiza la interacción entre los derechos humanos fundamentales y los efectos sociales de las nuevas tecnologías, incluyendo las consecuencias sobre los derechos conexos. En este contexto particularmente dinámico, el mayor desafío para la nueva generación de juristas será adaptar el marco legal actual, a las nuevas realidades del mundo digital. Dado que las normas de derecho que rigen nuestra vida cotidiana han evolucionado lentamente y durante un largo período de tiempo, la rápida evolución tecnológica y la migración del individuo al espacio virtual requieren una urgente adaptación del marco legal a las nuevas realidades para que la Ley pueda mantener su misión de guardián del bienestar público. Además, esta nueva pandemia, origina y causa inciertos ampliamente cuestionado en el entorno online, ha provocado una restricción en masa de los derechos humanos similar a la última guerra mundial. Se ha restringido el derecho a la: libertad de circulación, manifestación, reunión, expresión, educación, trabajo e incluso el derecho a buscar la felicidad. Por la limitación de estos derechos la gente, por temor al enemigo invisible e incomprendido, aceptó sin oposición la mayor parte todas estas injerencias de las autoridades en su vida privada y en el conjunto de sus libertades fundamentales. Solo pequeños grupos de activistas continúan luchando por defender sus derechos fundamentales. No sabemos si este evento global llamado pandemia COVID 19 reescribirá la historia de los derechos fundamentales, pero es cierto que su impacto en el ámbito de las libertades individuales ha tenido un efecto muy fuerte e inquietante con respecto a otra transformación, incluida la revolución tecnológica. En estas condiciones, nos queda una única opción o desafío: defender al individuo, con todos sus atributos, en una sociedad dinámica, caracterizada por transformaciones atípicas. ; Spațiul cibernetic – ultima frontieră. Aici începe misiunea juriștilor în căutarea noilor forme de exercitare a drepturilor omului. Din fericire, nu este o misiune science- fiction, ci este o provocare reală, actuală și plină de oportunități. Consider că am ales cel mai bun moment pentru a propune această teza și a iniția o muncă de cercetare asupra dinamicii dreptului în era noilor tehnologii. Această eră este abia la început. Lucrarea de față pornește de la cercetarea acestui nou spațiu în care a pătruns ființa umană deținătoare a drepturilor și libertăților fundamentale. Ca orice mediu nou, stârnește curiozitatea, nevoia de a explora dar și nevoia de a fi în siguranță. Ființa umană este programată genetic să își protejeze viața, integritatea și libertatea în orice mediu s-ar afla, atât fizic cât și virtual. Securitatea spațiului cibernetic este o temă nouă, se discută despre acest subiect abia din anul 1988. Statele, companiile private și specialiștii au conștientizat rapid necesitatea reglementării acestui domeniu, inclusiv prin adaptarea dreptului internațional la noile realități. Conflictele, evenimente frecvente în societatea umană, au migrat rapid din spațiul fizic în spațiul virtual, la fel și armele. Virușii informatici, aplicațiile intruzive, softurile de spionaj iau locul clasicelor arme și unelte de război. Măsurile de securitate propuse și implementate de autoritățile statale cu atribuții în domeniul securității naționale, cât și de companiile private care dezvoltă programe de combatere a atacurilor cibernetice, bazate pe spionaj cibernetic sau măsuri de tipul hack-back se adaptează noilor provocări tehnologice, dar ocolesc teme importante pentru individ cum ar fi respectarea drepturilor sale fundamentale, a căror recunoaștere și reglementare au costat ani buni de luptă și fundamentare filosofico-juridică. În contextul în care viața cetățeanului migrează din ce în ce mai mult către spațiul virtual, cu toate elementele ei – internet banking, telemedicină, informare și cercetare din surse digitale, comerț electronic, virtual dating, virtual reality – măsurile de protecție a spațiului cibernetic trebuie gândite în directă corelare cu măsurile de securitate aplicate în mediul off-line. Dacă mediul off-line este clar determinat și există actori cu roluri clare (state, teritorii administrative, instituții cu atribuții în domeniul securității și siguranței cetățeanului etc.), spațiul virtual este încă o junglă, fără limite cunoscute și cu organisme XIV de supraveghere în stadiu incipient de dezvoltare care ar trebui să poată proteja utilizatorii vulnerabili în cazul în care devin victime ale unor manipulatori digitali. La acest moment Organizația Națiunilor Unite, prin comisiile și grupurile de experți, și-a asumat rolul de garant al drepturilor omului în spațiul cibernetic, interpretând prevederile tratatelor internaționale și elaborând recomandări pentru conflictele cibernetice și parteneriatul dintre state și marile companii care dețin controlul tehnologic asupra Internetului, atât din perspectiva conținutului cât și al conexiunilor informatice. La nivelul Uniunii Europene, rolul instituțiilor comunitare, fiind bine definit în ceea ce privește elaborarea și implementarea normelor de drept, permite creionarea unui cadru legal coerent în ceea ce privește politica de securitate cibernetică, asigurarea unui sistem efectiv de protecție bazat pe cooperarea dintre statele membre, dar și protecția efectivă a drepturilor individuale în mediul online. Tradiția democratică a statelor europene contribuie la identificarea unor soluții viabile în ceea ce privește libertatea spațiului cibernetic și importanța individului în societate. Apariția și întărirea rolului ENISA în politica europeană de securitate cibernetică oferă avantajul uniformizării, centralizării și exploatării coerente a datelor raportate de statele membre în vederea elaborării unor reglementări corect fundamentate. Teza studiază și categoriile de drepturi fundamentale din perspectiva modului în care acestea se văd influențate de noua realitate a vieții cotidiene. Mediul în care aceste drepturi au fost studiate și conceptualizate de-a lungul istoriei până la momentul proclamării lor în diverse instrumente de drept internațional, s-a schimbat profund. Amenințările încep să fie altele decât cele cunoscute, iar pentru juriști, eminamente atehnici, este o mare provocare identificarea breșelor din mecanismele de garantare și protecție a drepturilor fundamentale atunci când individul acționează în mediul online. Este posibil ca generația juriștilor nativi digitali să preia munca juriștilor adaptați digitali și să poată construi un sistem legal aplicabil acestui nou mediu de viață al individului, dar acest lucru va fi posibil abia peste 10 ani când noua generație, născută în epoca noilor tehnologii, va avea capacitatea de a analiza și propune soluții juridice. Cercetarea s-a focalizat cu precădere asupra dreptului la viață privată și a elementelor care îl compun, considerat fiind ca unul dintre cele mai vulnerabile drepturi fundamentale în mediul on line. Drepturile derivate, precum dreptul la nume, la identitate, la onoare, la demnitate, la integritate fizică se transformă și capătă noi valențe în era noilor tehnologii. O parte dintre aceste drepturi se transformă, migrează în spațiul cibernetic, se atașează ființei virtuale și devin drepturi digitale, specifice noului mediul de viață socială. În cuprinsul tezei a fost dezvoltat un capitol dedicat acestei noi categorii de drepturi în care se încearcă stabilirea conținutului și a formei de manifestare. În ceea ce privește mecanismele de garantare a exercițiului drepturilor și libertăților fundamentale, lucrarea analizează diversele niveluri de protecție: de la nivelul suprastatal (internațional), la cel regional și cel național, specific fiecărui stat. Mecanismele instituționale și jurisdicționale se organizează în mare parte după aceleași reguli fiind ghidate de reglementările internaționale în materia drepturilor omului, cu precădere, continuând cu reglementările la nivel regional și statal. În noul context tehnologic, inclusiv aceste mecanisme necesită o revizuire astfel încât să își poată păstra eficiența dorită la momentul creării lor. Un punct important al lucrării îl reprezintă analiza restrângerilor aplicate drepturilor omului sub imperiul legii. Așadar nu ne referim la ingerințele aflate în sfera ilegalului, ci la ingerințele permise de lege, în special în numele securității colective. Aici apar dezbaterile și analizele care vizează stabilirea punctului de echilibru între importanța unui drept fundamental sau al altuia. Atât dreptul la viață privată, cât și dreptul la securitate sunt considerate fundamentale, dar nu absolute. Din această perspectivă, trebuie stabilite limite clare astfel încât protejarea unuia să nu afecteze integritatea celuilalt. Uneori statele stabilesc măsuri restrictive exagerate asupra dreptului la viață privată în numele securității naționale, iar spațiul cibernetic este mediul propice pentru acest gen de practici. Orice practică de acest gen, aflată la una dintre cele două extreme, fie intrusivă în sfera personală, fie ineficientă din perspectiva securității, trebuie reevaluată și corelată cu drepturile omului, atât din perspectivă individuală cât și colectivă. De exemplu, dreptul la viață privată sau dreptul la securitate al ființei umane poate restrânge, în limite rezonabile, dreptul altei persoane de a se exprima sau de a-și manifesta anumite nevoi psihice în spațiul digital. Ținând cont de obiectivele propuse, cu aplicarea metodelor de cercetare asumate și analizând literatura de specialitate, cadrul normativ în vigoare și jurisprudența referitoare la drepturile omului, această teză identifică și subliniază interacțiunea dintre drepturile fundamentale ale ființei umane și efectele sociale ale noilor tehnologii, inclusiv consecințele asupra drepturilor conexe. În acest context deosebit de dinamic, cea mai mare provocare pentru noua generație de juriști va fi adaptarea cadrului legal în vigoare la noile realități ale lumii digitale. În condițiile în care normele de drept care ne guvernează viața de zi cu zi au avut o evoluție lentă și extinsă pe o perioadă lungă de timp, evoluția tehnologică rapidă și migrarea individului în spațiul virtual impun o adaptare urgentă a cadrului legal la noile realități astfel încât norma de drept să își poată păstra misiunea de gardian al binelui public. Mai mult, această nouă pandemie, cu origini și cauze incerte, aprig dezbătute în mediul online, a determinat o restrângere în masă a drepturilor omului poate la fel de acerbă cu cea provocată de ultimul război mondial. Ne-au fost restrânse pe rând dreptul la libertatea de mișcare, dreptul la întruniri, dreptul la manifestări, dreptul la exprimare, dreptul la educație, dreptul la muncă și inclusiv dreptul la căutarea fericirii. Iar oamenii, de teama inamicului nevăzut și neînțeles, au acceptat în cea mai mare parte toate aceste ingerințe ale autorităților în viața lor privată și în cercul libertăților lor fundamentale. Grupuri mici de activiști continuă lupta de apărare a drepturilor lor fundamentale. Nu știm dacă acest eveniment global numit pandemie va rescrie istoria drepturilor fundamentale, dar cert este că impactul lui asupra sferei libertăților individuale a avut un efect mult mai abrupt și mai intrusiv decât orice altă transformare, inclusiv cea tehnologică. În aceste condiții, ne rămâne o singură opțiune: aceea de a apăra individul, cu toate atributele sale, într-o societate dinamică, caracterizată de transformări atipice. ; Cyberspace - the last frontier. This is where the mission of the lawyers begins: to search new forms of human rights manifestation. Fortunately, it is not a science-fiction mission, but a real, current and full of opportunities challenge. We consider that this is the best-chosen moment to propose this paper and to initiate a research work on the dynamics of law under the era of new technologies. Because this era has just begun. This thesis aims to explore this new space where the human being, holder of fundamental rights and freedoms, has entered. Like any new environment, the digital world arouses curiosity, engages the human need to explore but also activates the need to be safe. The human being is genetically programmed to protect his life, integrity and freedom in any type of environment, no matter if is real or virtual. Cybersecurity is a new topic; this topic has been brought in public debates only since 1988. States, private companies and specialists have quickly become aware of the need of regulation in this area, including by adapting international law to new realities. Conflicts, as frequent events in human society, have rapidly migrated from physical to the virtual space. The weapons as well. Cyber viruses, spyware, worms, malware took the place of the classic weapons and tools of war. The proposed security measures were implemented by state authorities with responsibilities in the field of national security, as well as by private companies. The efforts made to develop programs to fight against cyber-attacks, based on cyber espionage or hack-back measures, must be adapted to ever new technological challenges, but not forgetting the important issues for the individual human being, such the respect for his fundamental rights, whose recognition and regulation have cost years of legal struggle and philosophical debates. In this context, where the life of the citizen migrates more and more to the virtual space, with all its elements - internet banking, telemedicine, information and research from digital sources, electronic commerce, virtual dating, virtual reality – protective measures for cyberspace must designed in direct correlation with the security measures applied in the offline environment. If the offline environment is clearly determined, populated with actors playing key roles (states, administrative territories, institutions with responsibilities in the field of XVIII security and safety of citizens, etc.), the virtual space is still a jungle, with unknown limits and incipient supervisory bodies struggling to protect vulnerable users against digital criminals. At this moment, the United Nations, through its commissions and expert groups, has taken on the role of human rights protector in cyberspace, interpreting the provisions of international treaties and developing recommendations for cyber conflicts and partnerships between states and large companies with technological control over the Internet, both in terms of digital content and computer connections. In the European Union, the specific role of the public institutions in the legal area allows drafting a coherent legal framework for cybersecurity policy, ensuring an effective system of protection based on cooperation between Member States, also bringing an effective protection of individual rights in the online environment. Also, the democratic tradition of Member States contributes in finding viable solutions regarding the freedom of cyberspace respecting, in the same time, the social importance of the human being. The creation on ENISA, with its determined role in the European cybersecurity policy, offers the advantage of a coherent approach in standardizing, centralizing and exploiting the data reported by Member States in order to develop well-founded regulations. The thesis also studies some categories of fundamental rights observing the new perspective of human liberty and privacy induced by technology and digitalization of reality. It is obvious that the initial environment where these rights have been studied and conceptualized has radically changed and their legal confirmation in the international law must be adapted to the new reality. The new digital threats to human fundamental rights are different from the known ones, and for the lawyers, who are non-technical by nature, it is a great challenge to identify the gaps in the informatics mechanisms of protecting fundamental rights when the person acts in the online environment. Maybe the generation of digital native lawyers will take over the work of digitally adapted lawyers and will be able to build a legal system applicable to this new living environment of the individual, but this success will be possible only after the next 10 years, when the new generation, born in the age of new technologies, will have the ability to analyze and propose legal solutions. The research focused mainly on the right to privacy and its legal components, being considered as one of the most vulnerable fundamental rights in the online environment. Connected human rights, such as the right to a name and to a nationality, identity, honor, dignity, physical integrity, are transforming and gaining new values in the era of technology. Some of these rights are reinvented and relocated into cyberspace, where they attach to the virtual human being and become digital rights, specific to the digital social environment. In the thesis there we dedicated a chapter to this new category of human liberties, aiming to establish the content and the limits of these new digital rights. Regarding the mechanisms for guaranteeing the exercise of fundamental rights and freedoms, the paper analyzes the various levels of protection: from the supranational (international) level, to the regional and national level, specific to each state. The institutional and jurisdictional mechanisms are largely organized according to the same rules, being guided by international human rights framework, at a global level, and particularly regulated by regional or local specific legal regulations. In the new technological context, these mechanisms need to be revised so that they can maintain their desired efficiency as the moment of their creation. Another important point of this paper is the analysis of the restrictions applied to human rights under the rule of law. So, we are not referring to any illegal interference, but we analyze the limitations allowed by law, especially in the name of collective security. This is the point where debates and analyzes converge in finding the perfect balance between the importance of one fundamental right to another. Both right to privacy and right to security are considered fundamental, but not absolute. From this perspective, clear boundaries must be set so that the exercise of one right does not affect the integrity of the other. Sometimes states impose overly restrictive measures on the right to privacy in the name of national security, and cyberspace is the perfect environment for such practices. Any practice situated at one of the two extremes, either intrusive in the personal sphere or inefficient from a security perspective, must be re-evaluated and correlated with the human rights, both from an individual and a collective perspective. For example, the right to privacy or the right to security of one person may interfere, in reasonable limits, with the right of another person to express himself or herself or to manifest certain psychical needs in the digital space. Fallowing the proposed objectives, applying the specific research methods and analyzing the legal literature, the regulatory framework and the jurisprudence on human rights, this thesis identifies and emphasizes the interaction between fundamental human rights and the social effects of the new technologies, including the consequences on related rights. In this particularly dynamic context, the biggest challenge for the new generation of lawyers will be to adapt the current legal framework to the new realities of the digital world. Given that the rules of law governing our daily lives have a long and slow evolution, this rapid technological revolution and the migration of the individual into virtual space urge for a quick adjustment of the legal framework to new realities so that the rule of law to be able to keep its mission of guardian of the public welfare. Moreover, this new pandemic, with uncertain origins and causes, hotly debated in the online environment, has led to a more severe human rights restriction than the last world war. We have been restricted in our right to freedom of movement, right to public meeting, right to manifestation, right to expression, right to education, right to work and even our right to pursue happiness. Under the fear of the unseen and unknown enemy, people accepted the most part all these interferences from the authorities in their private lives and in their circle of fundamental freedoms. Small groups of activists continue the fight to defend their fundamental rights. We do not know whether this global event called the pandemic will rewrite the history of fundamental rights, but it is certain that its impact on the individual freedoms has already determined a huge and more intrusive impact than any other transformation, including technological. Under these conditions, we have only one challenge: to defend the human individual in this dynamic society, with all its attributes, characterized by atypical transformations. ; Programa de Doctorado en Estudios Avanzados en Derechos Humanos por la Universidad Carlos III de Madrid ; Presidente: Carlos Ramón Fernández Liesa.- Secretario: María Pilar Trinidad Núñez.- Vocal: Radu Carp
Issue 33.2 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1974 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review Jor Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor March 1974 Volume 33 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism Norbert Brockman, S.M. Father Norbert Brockman is a staff member of the Marianist Center; 4435 East Patterson Road; Dayton, Ohio 45430. Among the growing movements among American religious in the past few years has been the directed retreat. In increasing numbers, religious have placed themselves under a director who has guided their meditation for periods as long as thirty days.1 The movement owes much to the Jesuits, who have taken leadership throughout the countr~ in reviving an approach to the retreat that is closely linked with their own renewal and spirituality.2 There have been spinooffs from the directed retreat movement that sug-gest that directed retreats are much more than a passing fad, although for some they will take on that character. The first of the side benefits of the directed retreat movement has been that religious of a number of congregations, especially women, are being trained in the method and approach of directing prayer. The Jesuits have established centers for this purpose, and programs for training, using the Ignatian retreat, are well patronized. A congequence of this is the flowering of directed retreats among women religious,, and the better training of for-mation personnel capable of working with mature nuns. Secondly, the directed retreat seems to bring many religious to long-term spiritual direction. Foi" the first time, for many religious, ~it has been possible--in a directed retreat--to consider spiritual direction as some- 1See, for example, Margaret Baker, H.V.M., "My Experience of a Directed Retreat," Review for Religious, v. 31 (1972), pp. 573-7; Sister Christine Freed, R.G.S., "I Feel like Singing Forever," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 1379-1384. '-'Thomas E. Clarke, SJ., "The Ignatian Exercises---Contemplation and Discernment," Review ]or Religious, v. 31 (1972), pp. 62-9. 257 258 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 thing other than crisis intervention. While one can comment only impres-sionistically, it seems that a real phenomenon of the past three years has been the increased desire among religious for spiritual direction.:' While the pattern is not so clear as to the expectations.of the religious seeking direction, the question of growth in prayer is always a serious considera-tion. The direction of prayer itself has an ancient and honorable tradition in the Church. From the earliest days of Christianity, the spiritual novice submitted himself or herself to a spiritual guide under whose direction growth in the life of prayer was undertaken. The stories of the fathers of the desert reinforce this strongly, and direction in prayer was for them an all-important issue in the relationship between novice and adept Chris-tian. The origins of this are obscure, but it would seem that the earliest forms of direction in prayer come from the baptismal catechesis, where the person responsible for the conversion of a neophyte not only helped in the education of the candidate for baptism, but particularly assumed the task of.teaching them the spiritual life. Together the two shared a period of prayer and 'fasting before the administration of the sacrament." In modern times, with the structure of the annual or other periodic retreat, various forms or styles of retreats came to the fore. The Ignatian r~treat has always had, in this period, a special place. It has been widely used b~, religious whose congregations are not Ignatian in spirituality, and its very basic Christian themes have made it equally.popular among lay-people. Although the preached retreat had become the predominant form, the notion of the directed retreat never died out, and its revival on such a large scale is in reality a return to an earlier Ignatian tradition. The Notion of the Directed Retreat The focus in the directed retreat is on the notion of "directed." It is a retreat in which the pfirticipant works with the retreat master in the man-ner of a s~iritual director. There is normally an hour-long interview each day, during which the retreatant's prayer is evaluated, directions and themes are~ given for further meditations, and the quality of the retreatant's prayer' is developed? As indicated above, although the nature of the directed retreat has ancient roots in the Church, it has been most characteristic o~ Jesuit re-aSee Sandra Marie Schneiders, I.H.M., "The 'Return' to Spiritual Direction," Spiritual Lile, v. 18 (1972), pp. 263-78. 4Michel Dujarier, Le parrainage des adultes aux trois premiers siO(les de l'Eglise (Paris: 1962), p. 377. 5Herbert F. Smith, S.J., "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," Review ]or Religious;,v. 32 (1973), pp. 490-7. This article is available from Review ]or Religious as a separate reprint. Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / ~259 treats in recent years. The point needs to be made that the nature of this retreat is simply the direction of prayer itself, adapted to the peculiar de-sign of a retreat, a period of time in which a person withdraws from ordi-nary pursuits to develop more consciously and deliberately in the spiritual life. Admittedly, among American religious other values have also entered in,, but this has always been understood as the essential purpose of retreat. For, a religious working far from the center of his province~ in a small community, the value of fellowship is a real one, for example. Some province retreats resemble a tribal gathering in this regard, and others use a workshop model rather than the traditional one of withdrawal for prayer. The comments that follow will be placed in the context of directed re-treats, but they might as easily apply to much of the real work of spiritual direction. Direction in prayer, even the special, concentrated form of di-rected meditation used in directed retreats, is the heart of spiritual direc-tion. An aspect of regular ~direction, even if relatively infrequent, is sug-gestions for prayer, the joint evaluation of movements in prayer, the dis-cernment of these movements, and help in heeding the call to new levels of prayer. The purpose of this article, however, is not to explore the nature and values, of the directed retreat, but to discuss its use to inculcate the values from the founding charism of a particular ~religious congregation. The question of the nature of th~ directed retreat has been explored in depth elsewhere." What has not been investigated at any point is how the tech-nique of the directed retreat can contribute to the deepening of the ~ommit-ment of a religious to his/her °founding charism. Because non-Ignatian development of the directed retreat has been so°limited, the paucity of in-formation on the topic is understandable. What follows here is based on the author's study within the documents of his own order, as well as at-tempts to work with sisters of two other,groups attempting to find better means for developing their own spirituality within their members. The Founding Charism .In recent attempts among religious to heed the directives of Vatican II that they renew .themselves in the spirit of'their founders and foundresses, the emphasis has been placed upon research and the question of teaching the proper spirit of the order to cb.ndidates,r Along with this has gone the concern for finding newer expressions for the origina! teaching of the founder, while remaining faithful to his/her intent. This has produced some valuable materials in some groups, some false starts in others; there ~William A. Barry, ~S.J., "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 102'-9. See also the same author's "Silence and tl~e Directed Retreat," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 347-51; and Smith, "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat." rVatican Council II, The Renewal o/Religious LiIe, no. 2. Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 have been elements of both renewal and deception in the experience of getting in touch with one's roots. In the directed retreat, the issue changes somewhat. The purpose of the retreat is not to analyze, speculate, or study. It is to experience the meaning of the life of the Lord in a renewed sense. It is to deepen one's prayer, and to deal with issues that affect the spiritual life. When we speak of a directed retreat designed to inculcate the values of the spirituality of a religious congregation, therefore, the point is that the important elements of that spirituality must be assembled in what may be new ways, intended to move the soul through prayer more than grouped in perfectly logical structures. The experiential dimension, and the very goal of the directed re-treat according to one's own charism, is to bring the retreatant to the ex-perience that the founder had in founding the congregation. One must experience the foundation within oneself as a truly authentic, congruent integration of the spiritual life. It should make sense, bring an interior peace, and strongly confirm one's commitment to this congregation at this time in history. Few religious have taken themselves, or been taken, through the experience of the founder or foundress.'By this is not meant that the privations or sufferings of the founder--the more dramatic ele-ments of his/her life--need be reproduced in some sort of role playing. Indeed, the point is the reproduction of the insight and inspiration of the founding charism itself. What elements of the Christian experience brought about the development that the religious knows as his/her spiritual legacy? How were the evangelical counsels and the gospel message ex-perienced by the founder in such a way that the foundation of this group became a means of incarnating these values? If the congregation is the incarnation of the values of the founder--an extension of his/her charism into history--how is it to be experienced, personally by the members and corporately by the community as a whole? The questions above zero in on the issues that the directed retreat can deal with, in terms of the founding charism of a congregation. What is ob-vious, then, is that the design of the retreat must be developmental, and that might well be, as stated above, quite different from the design used to teach the ideas of the charism, or to study them. Critical Elements of a Founding Charism What, then, are the elements of a founding charism that must be con-sidered in designing such a retreat experience? The Spiritual Exercises are a brilliant example and deserve to be studied, even by those whose spiritual tradition differs sharply from that of the Jesuits. The themes, from the "Two Standards" to the last consideration, are highly developmental. Each builds on what precedes, not so much intellectually, but in the context of faith. It is possible to find all the elements of the Christian life from conversion Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / 261 to union with God. In short, a spiritual path is described. At the same time, the style of the retreat is congruent with the highly personal emphasis on decision and discernment. The Ignatian directed retreat is characterized (usually, although there are exceptions) by lone meditation, usually at some length, by minimal communal aspects, and by minimal liturgical life. The focus is on the individual coming to grips with his/her personal relationships with the Lord, with an acceptance of that Lordship in one's life, and in the development of a prayer life that nourishes and defines that relationship. What then are the elements of a founding charism that are critical to the development of directed prayer in this ~evelopmental sense? Four ele-ments surface in any investigation of this question: method of prayer, ascetical and/or devotional practices, a spiritual system, and theological concepts. These are the elements that the designer of the retreat prayer experiences needs to coordinate. The study that makes this possible should be on the part of the retreat director, and the retreatant should not be called o'n to do other than move immediately into the prayer experience. .Let us, then, briefly look at each of these elements of the founding charism in turn. Method of Prayer The first critical question is whether the founder taught a method of prayer, particularly a method of meditation. In many cases, what will be discovered is that the founder/foundress did .use a currently popular method of meditation, but that it was a matter of convenience in instruct-ing novices, and not an important element of the spirituality of the con-gregation. Here some communal discernment is necessary. In reading the founder's letters of direction, for example, or instructions on prayer, it is necessary to discover the significance of any proper method to the totality of his/her founding charism. If a distinct approach, emphasis, or technique is present, it should be integrated in the directed prayer of the retreat experience, For instance, a congregation consecrated to Mary might well have developed a receptive approach to prayer based on an understanding of Our Lady's fiat, a disposition of total availabi!ity to the Lord. It would hardly be congruent in such a case to suggest.an aggressive, intellectual type of mental prayer. It would surely conflict with many of the themes that the founding charism will c6ntain. Ascetical and/or Devotional Practices This area, like the last, deserves careful work to determine the con-tinuing value of the ascetical and/.or devotional practices of the founder. Things which are merely characteristic of the nationality or culture of the founder may be safely set aside, and tangential devotions may also be ex-cluded. After all, even founders and foundresses are entitled to devotional 262 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 expressions which are uniquely personal, and without having these pro-jected onto their religious foundations! In what sense is the devotion in-volved in the direction that the founder gave his/her early members? What is its theological content? A founder or foundress with a great de-votion to the cross, who writes and speaks of the cross in such a way that it permeates the spirituality of the order, is teaching something of greater import than a founder with a great personal devotion to a. patron saint or to a shrine. Similarly, the practice of taking names in religion may have been merely the religious convention of the time of foundation, or it may have had specific meaning~ Other ascetical practices are.to be similarly evalu-ated. In one tradition, the regulations of the founder about the diet may have been a simple indication of poverty within his .cultural context; in another tradition, the manner in which the question is treated might indi-cate that the retreat should include some fasting, if possible, and with cerr tain goals in mind. A Spiritual System The most obvious element is the spiritual system of the foundation. Did the founder have an approach to spirituality which he taught to the early members? What virtues did he consider important, especially, what aspects of the Christian life did he consider characteristic of his founda-tion? What were his interpretation and understanding of evangelical chastity, poverty, and obedience, and did this differ from the prevailing understand-ings of his time? Did the foundation include any other vows besides the three traditional ones, even though these may no longer exist in the con-gregation? What was the value that the founder/foundress was stressing by having additional vows? What was his/her notion of common life and community experience? What is the role of the apostolate in fostering the spiritual life? All these are part of the questions that must be asked in the process of constructing the spiritual system of the founder or foundress, as, usually in most cases, active founders have not written out the spiritual system in clear fashion. Besides exploring the documents of the congregation, however, the living experience of the early foundation is itself of importance. The story of the life of the founder is often of great value in determining what he meant by a certain teaching. Religious orders are, after all, not only com-munities, but a special modality of community--witness communities that show forth the transcendent dimension of Christian life. The witness of the early foundation, therefore, is of great importance as a form of teach-ing. Theological Concepts Usually, theological concepts do not appear in a founding charism as Directed Prayer and the Founding Charism / 263 such. Founders and foundresses are rarely interested in theology except as it reveals the person :of Jesus Or underlies a religious value. Nevertheless, founders are usually very concerned about fidelity to the deposit of faith. A renewed understanding of theological concepts in recent years may make it possible to enrich the understanding of the founder. The founding charism does not really change, but the religious order is called to fidelity to it, not to literal acceptance in the language, cultural norms, and symbols of the early society. As the Church grows in its understanding, of herself and her divine mission, so 'a religious congregation should show signs of growth in its self-understanding.'To utilize a theological concept such as the Eucharist without integrating the better insights coming from a renewed liturgy of celebration would be more than unfortunate. It would be .a denial of the fidelity'of the founder to the Church's teaching, because as he was faithful to ~the Church's expression of eternal truth in his time and culture, so the congregation, today must reproduce that fidelity. Again, renewed Biblical scholarship has made possible far greater sophistication in understanding the gospel message than heretofore. That cannot be ignored in studying the founding charism, merely because it has happened since the founder died! The °emphasis laid upon the experiential above is not to be interpreted as demeaning the importance of the intellectual as preparation for prayer. Anti-intellectualism is not a mark of the Christian, Quite the contrary, and the directed prayer experience will be the richer for the .hours spent by both ~director and retreatant in studying the basic teaching ,of the Church, especially in those areas that touch upon the founding charism. ~Fhe Retreat ~s Reflection of the Founding Charism The first of the elements of a founding charism was stated as the method of meditation or mental prayer. The idea of the importance of the ,congruence of this with~the total spirituality of the founder or foundress was stressed, but this idea can also be expanded~. The entire style of the directed retreat should reflect the founding.charism. The import/race of this cannot easily be exaggerated because of ~he'experiential nature of:the directed retreat. There" is a profound difference between the directed re-treat., as desert experien.ce (silence, lone meditation at great length, and so forth) and the directed retreat as communal',experience (common liturgi-cal celebrations,' some group discussion, and so forth). In among these contrasts are many modalities of directed retreat, of course. The point is that it is important to include those aspects which will most effectively help the retreatant to gro~w into the values which are the subjects of the prayer experiences. The spirituality that emphasizes a deeply communitarian-or service value will not come through successfully in a desert experience. This i~ not to say that the desert experience is not of value for religious f~'om adtive commui~ities~(far from it!), but only that a limited aspect of their spirituality is likqly to emerge in such a context. Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 Similarly, methods of discernment should be congruent with the found-ing charism itself. What was the method for discerning the will of God used by the founder or foundress? Was it a communal means, or one based on authority? Discernment itself has become an issue, both within the directed retreat movement and in other contexts? It is an integral part of the Spiritual Exercises, and would seem to be an integral part of the work of the director of prayer. Within a given tradition, the method of dis-cernment might well be prophetic or charismatic. More likely it will reflect an authoritarian tone, which would translate into the directed retreat as a form of obedience to the spiritual guide. This type of obedience itself needs to be understood, as it isnot the same as the obedience owed a superior under the evangelical vow. In some traditions, the means of discernment might be very communal, in such a way that group direction might be a compatible style for certain congregations using the directed retreat. This would be alongside the pri-vate interview, which is essential to the directed retreat. A final word should be added on the place of resolutions. Many re-ligious feel strongly that they should come home from retreat with clear resolutions for the future--a battle plan, so to speak. The presumption is so strong with many that it is an issue that should be frankly discussed with the director. It is certainly not necessary for the directed retreat; it is enough that there be an interior renewal and deepened commitment to the spirit of the foundation. Whether there are "results" or decisions on con-crete action for the future should flow from the needs of the person him-self/ herself. Too often it is merely another expression of a workaholic personality. Conclusion This has been a simple and sketchy view of the development of a directed retreat from the point of view of the goal of growth in the spirit of one's own order. As such, directed prayer is a powerful means of growth toward incarnating in oneself the values of the founding charism. It is a means of renewal that not only affirms one's commitment to religious life, but also goes far toward building and renewing the community through renewed religious, standing firmly in the tradition of the one who brought the order into being under God's grace. 8Criticism has been recently expressed by W. Peters, S.J., "Discernment: Doubts," Review ]or Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 814-7. See also James V. Gau, S.J., "Dis-cernment and the Vow of Obedience," Review for Religious, v. 32 (1973), pp. 569-74; David T. Asselin, S.J., "Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment," Review ]or Religious, v. 27 (1968), pp. 581-95; and John R. Sheets, S.J., "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of the Discernment of Spirits," Review ]or Religious, v. 30 (1971), pp. 363-76. The last article (that of Father Sheets) is available from Review ]or Religious as a separate reprint. Prayer: The Context of Discernment Charles J. Healey, S.J. Father Charles J. Healey, S.J., is a faculty member of the Department of Theology; Boston College; Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts 02167. Discernment Today In our attempts to seek and find God in our lives and to live out our Chris-tian lives of faith, hope, and love, we are often involved in a process of rediscovery. There is not that much that is new for us in the sense of dis-covering something for the first time. But often the conditions of the times in which we live and our own felt needs combine to lead us to focus on a particular aspect of the spiritual life. Such, I would suggest, is the case in the area of discernment. It is certainly a term that has deep roots in the history of Christian spirituality. But ours is a period that has seized upon the process of discernment--perhaps too quickly and too glibly at times-- in the hopes that it might aid us in our efforts to love and serve God both as individuals and as communities, and to seek and respond more gener-ously to His will in our lives. This renewed interest in discernment should come as no surprise. First of all, there is the very visible desire of many to deepen their own union with God, to establish or reestablish what they consider the essentials and priorities in their lives, and to make any required decisions in a context of faith and prayer. In a time of great change, many are seeking to find strength and unity within themselves not only to cope effectively with their lives and all their responsibilities, but also. to maintain themselves as lov-ing and productive persons. Secondly, many communities are turning to the process of discernment as a method of helping them in their attempts at renewal as a community and as a basis for group decisions. But whether 265 266 / Review for Religious, ~olume 33, 197.4/2 it is a case of individual discernment or corporate discernment, it is impor-tant to stress over and over that the basis of any discernment has to be the deep and intense prayer of the persons involved in the process. The context of any true discernment is prayer. The purpose of this article, then, is to offer some reflections on discernment, using the word in the broadest sense here and focusing on the intimate connection between discernment and prayer. ontex! Is Prayer Discernment really makes sense only when it is situated in the context of prayer. Unless there is a corresponding desire to seek and find God continually in our lives and to deepen our awareness of His reality and presence, discernment can end up just being talk. The seeking and yearn-ing attitude of the Psalmist must penetrate our own lives deeply: "To you, my heart speaks; you my glance seeks, your presence, O Lord, I seek. Hide not your face from me" (Ps 27:8-9). There is, of course, a renewed in-terest and even a hunger on the part of many today in the area of per-sonal prayer; and this accounts in part for the renewed interest in the area of discernment. There are many indications of this all around us at the present time; and many are definitely expressing a desire for praye~r which springs from a felt human need and the presence of the Spirit in our midst, ever renewing, ever arousing. Recently I was listening to a taped conference on prayer by Thomas Merton in which he mentioned at the beginning that he ~did not like to talk a great deal about prayer. This was certainly not from any disinterest, for if there is any constant preoccupation and interest that emerges in his life and writings, it would be with the value and priority he constantly gives to prayer. But he wanted to stress the point that pr~yer for us should be something simple and natural, something as simple and natiaral as breath-ing. It is hard for us to talk about breathing since it is such a normal process of our lives and one wfiich we can easily take for granted. So, too, he feels should be the case with prayer. At times we can complicate it and make an issue or a cause out of it. But usually when we make a~ca~]se or an issue out of something, we oppose it to something else: "This is.prayer, this isn't. This is something sacred, this isn't." The f~us could then shift to the issue rather than the reality, and prayer could then be viewed as something complicated and artificial. Perhaps we can best consider prayer as the simple, natural, continual response of one who is,. convinced he be-longs to God and seeks to grow in union with Him, and the response of one who realizes he is a person possessed by a loving God. And it is in this climate, this atmosphere of prayer tl~at the whole process of discern-ment should be placed. The context is a very normal, full, and serious seek-ing after God. Pray'~r." The Context o[ Discernment / 267 The Process of Discernment ' Discernment, then, should not be considered a cause or an issue nor ev~en' a method in itself. It is a process in prayer by which one seeks seri-ously to know and follow God's will, to hear His call and faithfully and generously respond in the very real life situation of the person concerned. If l~ra~er should be a very human and ordinary experience, so too should b6 discernment. In this sense, it is a very simple process; and yet, on the other hand, it can be difficult in the sense that it presupposes constant efforts at'a deep and continuous union with God through prayer. This re-quires perseverance, patience, and willingness to expend time and energy. It' cannot be turned off and on like a water faucet if it is to be effective; it presupposes a firm basis of faith and the continuous seeking of the presence of the Lord. ~Alth0ugh discernment is a word that can come easily to the lips, it can still remain a rather elusive concept. Perhaps this is because it pre-soppos~ so much else. At any rate, we might recall Father Futrellrs defi-nition that discernment "involves choosing the way of the light of Christ instead of the way of the darkness of the Evil One and living out the con-sequences of this choice through discerning what specific decisions and ac-tions a~e, demanded to follow Christ here and now.''1 Thus discernment focuses on the ongoing attempts to clarify and ascertain God's will in our lives and seeks to specify what actions and decisions are required in the life of "on'e who wishes to follow Christ tothlly. The process presupposes an int'eflse desire, hunger, and willingness to seek God's will and to embrace it generously once one has come to a reasonable certitude regarding it. W~ might say it all comes down to our attempts to hear and respond to:the wo~'d of God in our own unique lives. But. if we are to be sensitive t~lGod speaking to us in the many ways He does.in our liv6s, we must first hear His call; we must listen quietly and give Him frequent opportuni-ties to speak to us. If we fire to b~ sensitive to God's presence and attentive to His touch, there must be an element of stillness and listening. Since this listening~aspect is so important for discernment, we should not be surprised to find this aspect of prayer being re-e~mphasized today.2 Many are ex-periencing the need today to. take time out from all their activities in order to turn within and seek God's presence within, to contemplate Him and to listen to Him in the stillness of their hearts. It is a kind of active receptivity as we let the radical truth of God shine forth with its own life within us. We seek to make the words of the P~almist our own: "In your light we see light." It is in this atmosphere .of stillness and presence that one can best determine God's call, God's touch, God's will. ~John C. Futrell, S.J., "Ignatian Discernment," Studies in the Spirituality o] Jesuits, v. 2, no. 2, p. 47. '-'See, for example, W. Norris Clarke, S.J., "Be Still and Contemplate,"~ New Catholic World, November-December 1972, pp. 246 ft. 2611 / Review [or Religious, l/'olume 33, 1974/2 Building on the Past As we seek to see clearly where God is touching us at a given time and where He is leading us and asking us to respond and follow, it is very help-ful to grow in the awareness of where God has touched us and nourished us0 in the past. Each of us has his or her own unique history in the hands of a loving God, that is, significant events, persons, books, Scripture pas-sages, and so forth, that have been a source of great strength and help. All of this constitutes our own faith experience of God; and the more it is brought to our conscious awareness, the more it becomes our own. Often in discernment workshops or faith sharing experiences, methods and oppor-tunities are presented to help individuals grasp more explicitly what they uniquely possess of God in their lives. One can call this by various names: one's core experience of God, one's beauty within, one's name of grace, and so forth. But it all comes down to the same reality: we seek to realize what we already possess, what is uniquely ours, and where God has touched us and loved us significantly. Once we are more aware of how God has acted in our lives in the past, we can more easily return in a spirit of prayer to be nourished and strengthened and sustained. What has sustained us in ~the past and what has touched us before, can sustain us and touch us again. This conscious awareness also helps us to be more responsive and sensitive to where God is touching us now, where He is leading us. We can begin to see a pattern and a continuity in our lives of faith. Above all, we be-come more aware of the profoundest reality of our lives, namely that which we possess of the power and love of God that has worked within us in the past and continues to be operative in the present. Discernment in prayer, then, is an ongoing process that seeks to find God and His will in our lives; it involves a constant seeking of God and an awaren(ss of His presence in our lives. Through discernment one seeks to hear God's continuous call, to recognize it as clearly as possible in order to follow it as faithfully and generously as possible. It seeks to answer the question: How can I best love and serve God in the present circumstances of my life. It is an ongoing process because our lives, our experience, our work, our relationship with God is an ongoing process. His Word does not come to us in a vacuum but in the concrete circumstances of our everyday lives. As Thomas Merton says in one of my favorite passages from his writings: Every moment and every event of every man's life on earth plants some-thing in his soul. For just as the wind carries thousands of winged seeds, so each moment brings with it germs of spiritual vitality that come to rest im-perceptibly in the minds and wills of men. Most of these unnumbered seeds perish and are lost, because men are not prepared to receive them; for such seeds as these cannot spring up anywhere except in the good soil of freedom and love.3 aThomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1961), p. 14. Prayer: The Context of Discernment / 269 In a very true sense, it is only the faith-filled person, the contemplating person that is acutely sensitive to these seeds of God in his or her life. And for the soil of freedom and love to flourish in our own lives, we must con-stantly open ourselves to the Spirit of God through an abiding spirit of prayer. Not only must we seek to grow sensitive to God's speaking to us in the external events of our lives, but we must seek to grow in an awareness and sensitivity to the movements within ourselves as we react personally to the signs of His will and presence. How do my present reactions corre-spond to the felt experience of God that has been so much a part of my life in the past? Are my present movements in resonance with that source of peace, that sense of oneness and wholeness before God that I have ex-perienced before, that sense of belonging to God that has been so nourish-ing and sustaining in my life? Are they consistent with the normal signs of the Spirit working within us, the signs of "love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, humility and self-control" (Gal. 5:22-3)? These are some of the questions one seeks to clarify in order to fulfill the desire to seek and find the Lord and His will. The spiritual director can play an important role in assisting here, for at times we can be too close to ourselves to have the needed objectivity. The director can aid us in clarifying and objectifying our own experiences and interior movements and aid us to see where God is touching us, loving us, and indicating His presence and His will. A Sense of Freedom In addition to a deep and constant spirit of prayer, discernment also requires an attitude of freedom and detachment. The attitude of freedom I refer to is that which allows a person to give to God and His will the central place in one's life;, it is a freedom and detachment from all other things that would either prevent or hinder one's striving to focus On God. It is the sense of freedom that allows God to become and remain the cen-tral reality in one's life. The Psalmist speaks of this centrality with the words: "As the eyes of the servant are on the hands of the Master, so my eyes are on you, O Lord." It is the freedom that allows one to respond generously to Jesus' invitation to Matthew, "Come, follow me," and His words to the disciples of John the Baptist, "Come and see." Come and see and taste the goodness of the Lord. It is the freedom expressed in the words of the prophet Samuel, "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening" (1 Sam 3:10), and the words of the Psalmist, "Here am I, Lord, I come to do your will" (Ps 40:7-8). We might note in passing that there can be an intimate connection between this spirit of freedom and a lifestyle that is marked by a spirit of simplicity. How does one grow in this spirit of freedom? Ultimately it is through a cooperation with the power of God's grace and love working within us. 270 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 But one important way is through a deepening realization that one is a loved sinner, that one has been touched and healed. A profound convic-tion of God's steadfast love and fidelity can be a very liberating force that enables one to turn to God and seek Him alone and His service in a spirit of simplicity and joy. This freedom grows in a context of lively faith and is nourished in prayerful reflection on God's goodness, mercy, love, and providence. Conclusion In general, discernment in prayer is an inward looking process; the focus is mainly on the movements and experiences of God within us. But the process must never stop here for there should also be an outward dimension of discernment. First of all, as in so many areas of the spiritual life of man, a healthy norm is: "By their fruits you shall know them." There is a confirmatory aspect of all discernment in the external fruits that are in evidence and the good works that are produced. Secondly, the great commandment,of love must always be kept in perspective, and a deepening union with God should lead to a deepening union with one's fellow man. An increasing sense of compassion for one's fellow man and his needs should flow from one's union with God. Finally, the process should lead to an increasing sensitivity to life and all its mysteries, to an increasing awareness of.God's presence in all things, and to our own growth as-con-templatives in action. A Norwegian Outpost: Maria Einscete M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., is a Cistercian monk of St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562. Our plane put down at Oslo and I soon bungled my way through customs, only .to find--no one. Communications had gotten a bit confus(d and now there was no one there. But everyone I asked seemed t6 know of him: "Brother Robert, yes, the hermit. He lives up in the mountains near Lake Tinn." And so I began my pilgrimage. Ten o'clock the next night I stepped down from a bus in the pouring rain and made bold to ask the young lady who alighted with me the oft repeated question: "Where is Brother Robert? . That way," she answered with a bold sweep of the arm as her hand pointed up a dark rise of conifers. I turned in the opposite direction to the friendly lights of an inn. It was a good choice. There among the youths gathered around the blazing fire was Jan. A couple years earlier he had been up to see the hermit with his pastor. He offered to be my guide. Good to his word, Jan arrived early the next morning with his little Volkswagen which took us as far as it could. Then we began to climb on foot. I was a bit embarrassed when Jan took my bag, but soon I was very grateful that he had--for otherwise I probably would never have made it. We must have climbed steadily, along an old logging trail, for forty-five minutes or more when Jan sudde.nly stopped and pointed back into the woods. We had actually passed our goal: Maria Einscete--Mary's Hermit-age. Maria Einscete was just a simple log cabin, one just like so many others in those forests. Larid in Norway belongs to the owner by hereditary right. It cannot be "definitively alienated. Most families living in the villages or on the lowland farms own stretches of woodland up on the mountains. 272 / Review ]or Religious, l,'olume 33, 197/.'-/2 In better times they kept men up there ,to care for the woods, but now most of these lumberjack's cabins are empty. One of these landlords, a kindly man, let Brother Robert use his abandoned cabin, plant some vege-tables, and dig a well. From the United States to Chile and to Norway Brother Robert, Father Robert Kevin Anderson, is a monk of St. Joseph's Abbey, Spencer, Massachusetts. He entered the Cistercian Order at the Abbey of Our Lady of the Valley back in 1949 when he was 17. He was one of the first choir novices professed after the community trans-ferred to Spencer. Frater Kevin, as he was called in those days, cared for the newly planted orchards and, after his ordination to the priesthood, for the newly planted brothers--as father master of the lay novices. But he had always experienced an attraction toward a more simple and radical form of monasticism. He went on to pursue this, first at St. Benedict's Monastery in the Colorado Rockies, then at the Monastery of Las Condes in the Chilean Andes. It was at the latter monastery that he first embarked on the eremitical life which he found to be his true calling. Later Father Robert sought deeper solitude in southern Chile; but the bishop there had some ideas of his own about how Father was to lead the eremitical life. So Father moved on to the land of his family's origins, Sweden. Here again, a hard-pressed bishop with few priests had his own ideas how a hermit-priest should live. And again Father moved, this time across the border to the diocese of the sympathetic and understanding Cistercian bishop, John Gran of Oslo. Until he could find a suitable site, Father Robert lived in a distant parish. Soon he found what seemed like an ideal place for a hermit: an island on Lake Tinn. But appearances can be deceiving. Living on an island meant dependence on others for all supplies, or keeping a boat for summer and an ice sleigh for winter. Then, too, the fine summer weather brought traffic to the lake. Father lifted up his eyes to the mountains, and soon ascended to Maria Einscete. The Hermit Life o| Father Robert Although feature articles and TV presentations have made Father Robert known throughout Norway and even throughout Scandinavia, he yet receives few visitors. The Norwegians respect and are inspired by his life of prayer and presence to God. They do not want to intrude. Besides, the ascent is difficult and the way known to few. The Catholic pastor, whose parish extends for several hundred miles, calls in from time to time. And of course, the good sisters find their way there at times; also, the search-ing young--from as far away as south France or America. Priests have occasionally come for retreat. And a pious convert lives not far from Father's mailbox and enjoys having him in to say Mass in her front room. A Norwegian Outpost: Maria Einscete / 273 But usually Bror Robert (as the Norwegians call him) is alone with his goats and his God. He goes down to the road to the mailbox every few days--and the owner of the neighboring box watches to see that the mail is collected, a sign that all is well with their hermit. Once a week or so, on skis in winter and a motor bike in summer, Father will go to the village for supplies. All the villagers know and love their hermit. They expressed real joy when "Brother Robert's brother" came to visit him. From time to time Father goes to Oslo to speak to the Dominican nuns, the only con-templative community in Norway. And once a year he goes south to the French Abbey of Mont-des-Cats to see his spiritual father. This was one of the conditions the bishop placed on his presence in the diocese as a hermit: that once a year he would spend some time in a monastery. Father Robert's life is very simple. He prays the hours quite as they always have been celebrated in the monastery, and offers Mass for all man-kind. He does some wood carving, mounts ikons, and practices the ancient Norwegian craft of weaving baskets from birch roots. He also translates books. He is a gifted linguist and has mastered both new and old Nor-wegian, as well as the local dialect. These occupations, along with Mass stipends, help him to keep body and soul together. At the time of my first visit Father Robert had been living in his log cabin for about a year. The only facilities were the woods. He had dug a well nearby and so had plenty of good water. But he confessed to me that he spent most of his time during that first winter chopping firewood--for his cabin had no inner walls and was very difficult to heat. The Spencer community helped him then to get a logger's caravan, which is not only much more snug and easier to heat, but which Father was able to locate higher up on the mountain where he can benefit from much more sunshine. The view from the new location, looking out across Lake Tinn to Mount Gaustaf, one of the highest peaks in southern Norway, is simply magnifi-cent. As the rays of the sun play on clouds, mountains, lake, and forest one is ceaselessly awed. This is indeed a Godly place--an ideal place for a hermit. The Monastic Presence of Father Robert This extension of Spencer Abbey and of the American Cistercian Re--' gion, this foothold of Cistercian life in Norway, is certainly something for which we should be most grateful and praise the Lord. The effectiveness of Father's monastic presence cannot be fully evalu-ated but it is certainly significant. This is rather surprising in a country where most are at best nominal members of a state church, and the few, very scattered Catholics tax the handful of devouted priests and religious who seek to minister to them. The latter, without exception, seemed to ad-mire and respect Father and find inspiration in his fidelity to his particular calling. But the Lutherans, too, revere him and seem to be grateful and 274 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 happy .that this man of God is in their midst. They relate stories of her-mits and monks who lived in this land before the Reformation and the Danish oppression, even of a particular hermit in the area of Lake Tinn. Even for these apparently religiously indifferent, ,the man of prayer living alone on the mountain is a sign of hope, of something better, higher, tran-scendent. And when the final option comes, hopefully, with perhaps only a vague and confused idea of what he stands for in their minds, and the grace flowing from his prayer in their hearts, they will reach out for that Transcendent Reality. Blessed be the Lord God . . . he has raised up a horn of salvation for Norway. Now that there is a Cistercian bishop and hermit, in Norway may we not soon have a regular cenobitic foundation? It is time the Cistercians returned. The Cistercians first directed their steps to Norway back in the twelfth century, in the Golden Age of the Order. And there are still significant remains ~of their presence. On the Island of HoevedCya in the Oslo Fjord, just a short ferryboat ride from the capital, are the ruins of an abbey founded in 1147 from Kirkstall,. The whole outiine of the regular build-ings is there. The walls of .the church reach up ten and fifteen feet, and higher at the comer tower. Through the insisterice of 'Bishop Gran the government now preserves this site as a national monument. It is a very beautiful site indeed. But historical sites, no matter how beautiful, are not enough. The Church of Norway, like every other, needs for its fullness the presence of living and thriving contemplative communities. Guided by the Lord, Brother Robert has made a beginning. May the Lord prosper what he has begun. Reflections on Bangalore Sister Mary-John Mananzan, O.S.B. From October 14-22, 1973, the Second Asian Monastic Congress was held in Banga-lore, India. Sister Mary-John Mananzan, O.S.B., attended the meeting and gives here her impressions of the Congress. Sister Mary-John is Dean; St. Scholastica's College; P.O. Box 3153; Manila, Philippines. This will not be a report on the Bangalore Congress in the usual sense, but rather a reliving of significant experiences and a sharing of insights gained. No amount of faithful reporting can capture the atmosphere of such a meeting. But .perhaps the sharing of one's impressions can give a glimpse into the dynamics of the ievent much more than a complete but detached description 9f the proceedings. Personalities Let me begin with the significant people who made an impression on me. Among the observers to the Congress were two Tibetan monks who rePr, ds.ehted thee Dalai Lama. They were Lama Sherpa Tulku and Lama Samdong Tulku. The one word that ke'eps coming to my mind to describe them is "genuine." I was struck by their authenticity, their trueness to them-selves, their utter lack of pretense. They went about with serene dignity, quiet friendliness~ and unfailing self-mast6ry. They talked with perfect frankness about the problems of their people in exile with feeling but with-out the slightest rancor againsl~ the invading Chinese. And with disarming simplicity, one of them asked in our small group discussions: "Please ex-plain to us what you mean by a personal God." The theological jar~gon did not seem to satisfy them, so during the coffee break I ventured an explana-tion which ran something like this: "Lama Sherpa, do you sometimes talk to the Absolute Reality?" 275 276 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 "Yes," he replied. "Do you think he understands you?" "Yes." "Well, that is more or less what we mean when we say that God is a person." He seemed to be more satisfied with this explanation. The lamas had a way of expressing their ideas in an unusually effective way. During the discussion on prayer Lama Samdong Tulku made the following remark: "I.got the impression that when you pray, you send your words to the Absolute Reality. We, we push ourselves to It." Another personality which, for me, stood out, was Abbot Primate Rem-bert Weakland himself. He was a most excellent presiding officer; more-over, his introductory and concluding talks showed his keen intelligence, his versatile scholarship, and his sobriety of judgment. He was most human. He joked with the seminarians of the Kristu Jyoti College where we stayed as though he were one of them but without losing his dignity. In fact I ob-served in him something I seldom observe in many superiors today--an unembarrassdd awareness of his authority and an unapologetic reference to it when he considered it useful to do so. Among the non-Asians who had adopted the Eastern way of monastic life, the one I considered most credible was Father Bede Griffiths. He went about in a most unobtrusive, unostentatious way without the slightest effort to edify or to preach. I find this significant because I felt that there can be a tendency among non-Asians who have insights about the indigenization of monastic life and liturgy which are in themselves authentic, to be over-zealous and therefore tactless in their efforts to conscienticize the people whose culture they have studied and adopted. I believe that there can be a very naive, uncritical adaptation to indigenous culture which, if cohpled with a lack of delicacy in strategy, could alienate the people because it ap-pears to them to be another and a subtler form of paternalism. When this is further accompanied by efforts to edify, then the people are positively repelled. Then one provokes reactions which may sound extreme and de-fensive, but are not wholly unjustified like: "Why do they give themselves to be more Eastern than the Easterns?" The adaptation of the Eastern forms of monasticism by monks and nuns in Asia is an important venture; but this must be undertaken with utmost delicacy, tactful strategy, and with what perhaps for Westerners will amount to an almost intolerable amount of patience. I was enriched by the friendship with Vietnamese monks and nuns who shared with me their spiritual adventures. They have left their b!g monas-teries in the hillsides and have come to live among the poor in the center of the city of Saigon. The nuns take in laundry and typing work to support themselves and the monks take turns in tricycle driving. Reflections on Bangalore / 277 The Theme of the Congress The theme of the Congress was: "The Experience of God." This was divided into subtopics .such as: Monastic Experience of God in Christianity and Other Religions; The Experience of God: Methods of Realization; The Experience of God in Community Life; The Influence of Asiatic Religious on Monastic Structure; The Experience of God and Social Responsibility; and The Contribution of Christian Monasticism of Asia to the Universal Church. These were discussed in small groups as well as in the general assemblies. Again I will not make an effort to summarize the discussions but rather pick out those which had an impact on me. First of all, I regained my respect for the word "monastic." Due to certain historical factors, the word "monastic" in certain circles had come to mean deportment, a pattern of behavior and a fuga mundi attitude. In the Congress, the main emphasis was on the single-minded search for God. There is a monastic dimension to every human being. For those who have come to an awareness orbit and who wish to fulfill this dimension of their being, there should be monastic communities whose structures are flexible enough to share their way of life even on a temporary basis. At this point, it is good to mention.what Bishop D'Souza expressed as the petition of the Indian hierarchy. The Indian hierarchy, he said, is asking the monastic communities to be: 1. eschatological signs (monks and nuns should primarily be men and women of God) 2. centers of liturgy 3. havens of serenity 4. examples Of simplicity of life and refinement 5. model communities for Christian living 6. houses of undiscriminating hospitality One thing that was realized in the Congress was the contribution that the non-Christian form of monasticism can give to the traditional Christian monastic" life. There are several elements of the Eastern form of monasti-cism which have been forgotten or not emphasized enough in the Western tradition. There is, for example, the importance of the techniques and meth-ods in the search for the Absolute. The role of the body in prayer that is very much emphasized in Yoga and Zen could'be given the same impor-tance by Christian monks and nuns. The existential view of the Absolute and the unified view of reality of the East could balance the more con-ceptual and dualistic view of the West. The importance of the guru in Eastern spirituality can likewise revitalize the role of the spiritual director. Father Raymond Pannikar summarizes the unique role of the East thus: "Just as Africa's contribution to the Church is sensitivity to creation and that of the West,. the discovery of the value of history; so the unique con-tribution of the Asian is to develop the dimension o] the spirit." 278 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 Shared Prayer The Congress was not just a series of intellectual discugsions on the experience of God: It was for many participants something of a spiritual experience in itself. Contributing tO these was, first, the shared liturgy which the different regional groups prepared, giving the ~vhole community an ex-perience of a variety of. indigenous liturgy "Indian, Vietnamese, Korean, Chinese. There were likewise opportunities to meditate in the, Zen' way, the Yoga way, the Tibetan Buddhist way, and in Christian shared prayers. Amid the variety of methods, ceremonies, symbols, °and gestures there was the unity of hearts in worship.~And then there were the interpersonal en-counters which occasioned the sharing of spiritual experiences, the creating oLbonds which gave the promise of lasting friendships.~There was thus the wonder of discovery of the other in each other. There were no resolutions, conclusions, or statements at the end of the Congress. As Father Abbot Primate said, Bangalore was more humble in its tone than the Bangkok Congress. Its open-endedness is a challenge to further reflection and to further action. And this challenge was expressed in the delegates' message to their communities which reads as follows: Message to Our Communities Together with Father Abbot Primate, Rembert Weakland, we, , gathered here at Bangalore for the Second Asian Monastic Congress, salute you with an Indian greeting:which echoes in our liturgy, SHANTI, PEACEF ,~ We would like to share with you the atmosphere of joy, openness and fraternity that prevails in this community, which grow out of peoples of dif-ferent backgrounds, not only of race and culture, but also of religious tradi-tion. We are fortunate to have at our meeting Cl~ri~tia'n monks and sisters of various countries, Tibetan lamas, Buddhist and Jain mdnks and Hindu swamis and sanyasis. We lived together, 'praying and discussing in mutual enrichment. We are amazed to realize that, amid very real differences of opinions and experiences, there is an overwhelming convergence of concern: THE SINGLEMINDED SEARCH FOR GOD. It is in this conce.rn ~that we experience a strong bond of unity. We consider it our task as monks to commit ourselves wholehea.rtedly to this search, and it is in this context that we accept the world around us and feel h sense o.f sol!darity with it. We have a role in bt~iiding up the city of man. This consigts in pointing out to man the path to God. In particular, we are to share with the poor in theii-°striving for human dignity and liberty. It has become clear to us that to realise these goals i.n our times calls for a radical openness.and flexibility in our religious life and structures. We are in a moment of challenge. If we fail to respond, we lose our right to exigt as monasteries. Your delegates will bring home to:you reports of the proceedihgs of the Congress. Understandably, these will kive but a glimpse into what really happened here. But, for many of us, this Congress has been a: real spiritual experience. ,.Your delegates can communicate this experience more effectively than any written .report. It is our earnest prayer that all the communities scattered throughout Asia will put into effect the insights gained during this Congress. Tliis may mean breaking away from fixed patterns, settink out like Abraham ihto ff new land. Reflecffon~ on Bangalore / 279 We strongly recommend openness to our brothers of other religious traditions who, as we have experienced here, have so much to offer us. We urge the rethinking of our way of life so that as many people as possible may have the opportunity of sharing with us our experience of God within the content of living and vital communities. Let us maintain the bonds of unity which have been established among us through our delegates. During these days we have thought of you and prayed for you. May our continued unity in prayer be fostered by renewed contacts with one another. Toward a More Authentic Sharing in Community Laurent Boisvert, O.F.M. Father Laurent Boisvert, O.F.M., is the editor of the excellent Canadian magazine for religious, La vie des corntnunaut~s religieuses and lives at 5750, boulevard Rose-mont; Montreal 410, Quebec; Canada. The article originally appeared in the March 1973 issue of La vie des communaut~s religieuses and is printed in translation here with the authorization of that magazine. The translation was made by Sister Clarisse Marie, S.N.J.M.; General Administration of the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary; 187 Chemin de Cap-St.-Jacques; Pierrefonds 940, P.Q.; Canada. The sharing of material goods, based on the needs of each individual or moral person, tends to express and intensify the fraternal bond which unites us as religious. However, in everyday living this sharing meets with ob-stacles which compromise, in varying degrees, its fraternal character. A review of them will help us to become more conscious of them and so favor, I hope, the building of that community of justice, peace, and love which all of us desire and which alone can tnaly be called "fraternal." It is not rare to hear religious ask themselves: How does it happen that our lives are so little changed by the many conferences, sessions, and work-shops in which we participate? These same religious insist that we present them not so much the fundamental values of religious life which they say they already know, but rather a way of integrating them into their lives. The reflections which follow relate to this first step: the "how" of living a more genuine fraternal community life, a step which consists in over-coming in oneself the chief obstacles to its realization. False Mental Attitudes When we insist, before community groups, that a distribution of goods 2110 Authentic Sharing in Community / 2111 be made according to the needs of each, some religious express amazement. It seems useless to them that we should come back to so fundamental an issue, and one that everyone accepts. No one can deny, however, that in spite .of acceptance in theory, certain religio.us, and a number sufficiently large to warrant the mentioning of it again, demand for themselves the use of all kinds of things, basing these requests, not on real need, but rather on the fact that other religious have and enjoy the use of. them. If someone has such and such a thing for his work, goes out so many times during the week, or wears clothing of such and such a quality, etc., others use the example of such religious to justify having the same things and acting in like manner. If one group needs two cars, another group made up of the same number of people will perhaps demand one, just because the first group has two, How can we explain this dichotomy between the theory of sharing goods according to need, and the contrary practice illustrated by the examples just given? The reason is, it seems to me, that the criterion for the distribution of goods, recognized at the intellectual level, has not yet penetrated the mentality of all religious nor modified their attitudes and their conduct. Certain religious accept the idea of pluralism in the forms of sharing, but their reactions are those of people accustomed to a uniform type of sharing. They still lack that which, for all of us, is most difficult to realize, namely a change of attitude. No modification of structures, how-ever radical, can dispense a religious from the effort required to bring.about this conversion. It is easier and faster to set up pluralistic structures for sharing than it is to transform a person accustomed to uniformity so that he becomes capable of understanding, of respecting and of favoring diversity on the level of persons and their needs, and of making the necessary applications. All of which helps us to understand that if, in our congregations, the adaptation of structures has in large measure been accomplished, the con-version of our ways of thinking has not. Some years of effort will still be necessary, years of patience and of tolerance, before the transformation of mental attitudes and of conduct becomes a reality. In spite of everything, some people will never know such a transformation, because they believe that such a change is an evil and not a benefit to be pursued. Charity re-quires that we respect them, and that we learn to live with them, in the wis-dom and great-heartedness of compromise which, under its° positive forms, is love. Inability to Estimate One's Needs Accurately It is not sufficient to want to share a community of goods according to the real needs of each one. For the actual realization of this principle one must be able to evaluate tfiese needs honestly and accurately. Some religious are more or less incapable of making such an evaluation. For some, the reason lies in the formation they received as young religious and the long 2112 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 practice of a poverty based on dependence. They had only to ask and to leave ,to ,authority to judge the legitimacy of their request. Once the su-perior had given an affirmative answer, they never questioned themselves again about their use of the things granted. -This dependence,, judged in our day excessive, has atrophied the sense of responsibility"of some and made them quite unable to determine their own needs: Today, when au-thority leaves them free to choose such and such a thing,, to do or not do such and such an. action, to go or not to go to such and such a place, they prefer no action at all rather then assume responsibility for it. Long and difficult will be,the liberating process which will one day enable them to judge their own needs, if~ such will ever be possible. ~ C-Certain religious, coming from poor families and having, lacked some of the basic necessities during their childhood, make up,for lost time and accumulate without reason a surplus of goods. They:even admit that they ask for things to make up for the lack of them experienced in the past.And so they fill their closets with items.for, which they have,no real need, but which give them a sort of psychological security. In this Way they com-pensate for the time when they sutIeredreal want. ~ ,, For other religious, the practice of a poverty consisting of going with-out, of detailed restriction for use; of meticulous control and uniformity, has brought ab6ut another ,excessive reaction in that they,are constantly asking .for things they don't really need and of which they never .seem to have enough. At the other extreme are those who considered this former practice of poverty the ideal one, and so refuse to accept any form of com-munal sharing based on a pluralism of real needs. Using False Criteria Again, for some religious, the relative incapacity of identifying their real needs results from the use of false criteria. They will say, in, order to justify a trip: all my brothers and,sisters went to such aoplace, though an-other might say~ with just as much truth: I cannot make that .trip since none of my brothers and sisters have ever been there. Can the single fact :that one's relatives have visited Europe constitute a ,valid reason for asking for a trip overseas? Or again, can the simple fact that one's parents have never taken:~some scenic trip within the province or state:~be sufficient reason for denying oneself ,such an outing? In both cases, the use .of the "family" norm, instead of helping, hinders the discovery of real needs. That one consider the situation of one's family is certainly not wrong, but to use it as the sole means of defining orie's Own needs and the ~type of relaxation one has a right to seek is certainly without justification. These .conclusions apply .likewise .to one's social and professional posi-tion. There are people who count on the life style of ~this double milieu to determine personal needs. If they: live inca neighborhood where~each family averages one or two color-television~, sets, a summer cottage', a snowmobile Authentic Sharing in Community / 2113 or~ two, etc., they think that they too have a right to these same things and wi!l use them, under the illusion that they are living their commitment to po~verty.,lf th~ey work in the.~schools or hospitals and if the majority~of their companions go to Florida every year, wear a new outfit every day, etc., they come to believe that such is Lequired of them too, and in their minds these things become necessities that must be satisfied. The fallacy .of such ~rea.soning comes,from the setting up of one's .social or professional sur-roundings as an absolute ~in determining personal needs. It ought to be evi-dent that even if all the teachers of the school have a car, and if all the families in the area have two television sets, I do not necessarily need the same things. It also ha.ppens that this met.hod of evaluating needs ac.cord-ing to a social or professi0nal milieu soon involves various forms of dis-crimination, ail.harmf.ul to .the ,building of a fraternal community. Let us add that economy, valid as it may be, often prejudices one?s judgment of personal needs. To know how to economize is a quality that most people of average means acquire through° force of circumstances, That religious should possess, it is nother surprising nor embarrassing.;Waste-fulness and .extravagance, as well as carelessness, have always been,.con-sidered faults. The error, in the case of the religious, is to purchase things, not because ~one may need them, but because they are on sale and that per-haps one day they will be useful. It is also true that this intention of econo-mizing has a way of multiplying needs. The Influence of Numbers ,, In visiting a number of local commu~nities I ~have ~liscovered that re-ligious in small groups have their real needs satisfied much more easily than do religious in.larger gr.oups: Although not universal, this situation is repre-sentativ, e of a number of congregations. Of course, there are many cases in which it is reasonable and necessary ¯ to take numbers, into consideration. For example, if the local authority in a community of one hundred persons is planning an outing which includes transportation and lunch~ it is obvious that one must consider the number of those who wish to participate. The influence of numbers can, however, become harmful to community sharing when., a particular type .of logic prevails as sometimes happens in larg~ groups, though it. may also be found in more restricted ones, too. For example, two or three religious.desire to obtain skis in order to satisfy.a real need for relaxation, so they go to the local authority with their req.uest only to receive this answer: I cannot authorize such an expenditure; just think of the money involved if the sixty religious of the house were to come asking for skis! This reasoning characterizes a mentality which cerl~ainly is not pluralistic ,'and which fails to respect personal needs. That two or three religious desire some skis in no way implies that all the others need or even wish them. The falseness of this reasoning is even more evident Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 when we realize that the community is made up for the most part of older people or of those who are ill. On pushing this kind of logic to the extreme, one ought to refuse a wheelchair to a sick person who really needs one because everyone else might want one too. This type of reasoning may also exist among some members of the community group. They refrain from asking for what they really need be-cause they say: If everybody were to ask for such a thing, the community could not afford it. However, it is nowhere written that all the religious of a house must have the same needs at the same time, and that to satisfy them one must buy sixty canes or sixty wigs at the same time! Why, then, should we suppose this uniformity and always act in view of the total num-ber? Wherever this kind of logic dominates, whether on the part of the superior or of the members of the group matters little, it makes impossible the practice of community sharing according to need. The Moral Weight of Salaries The religious earning a high salary seems to have a special facility for getting what he needs and often more than he needs, while the one who makes no financial contribution is sometimes too embarrassed to make known real needs. Other variants of this phenomenon are these: The re-ligious in a salaried service who works overtime may think it his right to keep and to use as he pleases at least a part of the extra money so earned; the one who has won a grant or money award will not fail to exploit his chance of obtaining favors; the religious who receives an "old-age pension" and the one who regularly draws some form of income may also use these to obtain personal advantages. The moral weight of money earned by a religious' likewise risks in-fluencing the decisions of the superior. Does he feel as free and no more obligated in evaluating the requests of the one who hands in a substantial check than he does in judging those requests made by members who make no such contribution? It would not be surprising if, in the first case, he finds a particular facility in saying "yes" at once and with a smile, while in the second case, he has a tendency to ask questions about the necessity of the items requested and to multiply his reflections on the observance of poverty. In allowing a lapse of time between turning in one's check and making a request for what one judges useful or necessary, the religious can help those in authority to avoid showing favor and granting to him as to the others only what he really needs. At the provincial level we occasionally see this tendency in operation in those cases in which authority tends to discriminate between local groups of varying incomes. Groups with significant revenues sometimes receive more easily the authorization for extra expenditures than another poorer group, though the actual needs of the two groups may be identical. If such is the case, it is evident that discrimination is practiced in dealing with local Authentic Sharing in Community / 285 groups, a situation very detrimental in the realization of a truly fraternal community. The Matter o~ Gi~ts It also happens that the reception of gifts sometimes prevents sharing according to need. The religious, benefiting from the generosity of family or friends, is often better provided for than the one who must depend solely on the community. In order to justify the keeping or the use of things received, the religious reasons that he got them gratuitously when he ought rather to be motivated by real need. If our poverty permits us to accept gifts, they must nevertheless be used for all without discrimina-tion. This means that the religious may not have more because he receives more, but that all needs be judged by the same standard and that all be treated in the same manner. Whether the .goods to satisfy our needs comes from within or from outside the community is of lesser consequence. Two other observations must be made here in regard to gifts. Certain religious still declare that the refusal of anything offered to them by their parents, friends, or others, always constitutes a failure against poverty, indeed an injustice to the congregation. As it stands, this statement is inaccurate. The refusal of certain goods offered is sometimes required by our commitment to poverty. Such is the case when an individual or moral person does not need that which is offered, and in addition, the donor re-fuses any transfer of his gift. Such is likewise the case when, in response to a real need, a religious is offered something which can in no way be justified by the norms of simplicity. The second observation bears on the "intention of the donor." The intention clearly expressed by the donor does not suppress or replace the authorization required for the keeping and the use of goods. A religious cannot go to Europe simply because his parents have given him~the money for the trip. If competent authority refuses him" the permission and if the intention of the parents about the destination of their gift remains fixed, there is nothing left for the religious to do but to refuse or to return the money. However, in the majority of cases, it is not necessary to be scrupulous about respecting the intention of the donor. Many people offer us small gifts (the notion of "small" varies considerably, of course) and say to us: This is for you, for your personal needs, clothing, recreation, etc. If we took the time to explain our way of life to them as a community sharing a common fund, they would probably be quite happy to allow one of our companions to benefit from their generosity.Though we rarely explain this to them, we can ordinarily, without any qualms of conscience, pre-sume their understanding acceptance and put in the common fund what-ever we receive. 2116 / Revie.w for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 On the contrary, the intention of the °donor must be respected when the gift is made in the form of an inheritance or legacy. Let us make clear, however, that the religious to whom these goods have been offered alway~ has the right to refuse them. He even has the duty to do so in a case in which the, acceptance of an inheritance or legacy, involves obligations ~otaily or partially in violation of his religious 9ommitments. We must also understand that. authority does sometimes have a word to say in our ac-ceptance or refusal of such goods. The Moral Weight of Competence, Position, and Conduct In this matter of sharing, the professional status of religious some-times operates in his favor. Experience shows that in certain cases the religious~ ,possessing special qualifications obtains what he needs more easily than does his confrere who lacks such competence; he may even receive a ~urplu~ while the other is deprived of basic necessities. We have no intention of condemning competence; but under pain of closing our eyes to reality, we must acknowledge that this competence does sometimes exercise a moral influence on those presenting their needs, inclining them to ask for more than they really need. It may also influence those whose role is to insure .a just distribution of material resources in their application of the principle of real need. Experience0shows us that a past office may become another pretext for keeping and us_ing certain goods. The religious whose work required a specialized library, for example, may have a strong inclina.tion to keep it even after he no longer occupies the position which once required it. The one who needed a car for his work will be tempted to continue to keep it even after he is transferred to another office which in no way requires its use. Certain personal itnd marginal benefits connected with having a car make it very .painful for him to give it up. Again it may happen that one's present position Fay serve as an oc-casion for the granting or obtaining.of favors either for self or for others. Thus a superior, as soon as he is named,.,may ask for a ~'oom with a bath attached. Is this to help him fulfill his office"moi'e efffctively? Is such an installation really needed for his work? If not, how can he justify requesting it for himself while refusing it to others. It is no more justifiabl~ for a superior to use the pretext of his office to receive and to keep as long as he wishes all the magazines that come to the house. How can one approve such action? If he were in charge of formation and if, with the consent of the community or of authority, he had a prior right or even exclusive right to the use of a magazine published for formation personnel, nobody would complain. But no one can accept, and with reason, that an individual in virtue of his office, keep for himself as long as he likes the newspapers and magazines :meant for the use of all. Such practice is an obstacle to fraternal sharing. The one whose function Authentic Sharing in Community is to build community ought to be the first to ~remove from his own life anything that might compromise it. Let me add as a last moral influence a particular type of conduct in which a few religious indulge when making a request to authority. Their tone, gestures, and manner in general can be so high-handed that it be-comes almost impossible for the superior to refuse, even when he judges superfluous the object requested. When dealing with such persons he per-haps says to himself: It is easier to grant them what they want at once than to put up with the endless scenes and references to the matter that they will make if it is denied them. The superior may even justify his action by saying that he consented in "order to avoid a greater evil. All the same, that will not prevent those in the community from believing that at times a dif-ficult disposition does get results. While we understand the delicate posi-tion of authority in these instances, we must also recognize that such con-duct on the part of a member of the group can be an obstacle to fraternal sharing as it prevents the application of the principle: each according to need. The Influence of Social Convention According to current styles and in varying degrees, social convention may also influence both the religious in determining his needs, and the su-perior whose role is to assure that fraternal dimension of communal shar-ing proper to a religious household. Ordinarily we find it easier to ask for those things~ accepted by social convention than for those outside it. The superior in turn has a tendency to authorize more quickly those things it approves than those which are indifferent or contrary, to it. In this way social convention sometimes exerts a destructive influence on the charitable quality which ought to characterize our sharing from a common fund ac-cording to individual needs. . In considering the influence of social convention on religious, it cer-tainly explains at least in. part their attitude toward smoking, for example. The religious who smokes normally receives the necessary tobacco even though the expense occasioned ma~, be as high as two or three hundred dollars a year. The need to smoke, createdand developed by him, no longer requires critical evaluation but is taken for granted; and when the com-munity budget is prepared, there is no hesitation about'setting aside im-portant sums for it. ~ : It is not at all,certain, on the other h~nd, that the philatelist would so easily be allotted a similar sum for the purchas.e of new stamps. How does it happen that we consent so easily to satisfy the needs of the one who smokes but refuse those of the stamp collector? The pressure of social con-vention would seem to be the exp!anation. Under pain of being considered out of step with the times, religious cannot ignore social convention completelyi but by conforming to it with- 2811 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 out discrimination they can create needs the satisfaction of which amounts to real slavery and causes surprise and even scandal to others. Religious ought to be free enough, for example, in the matter of dress to avoid mak-ing an absolute of an outmoded costume and to consider relative those fashions which social convention seeks to impose on them everyday. This relativity can be expressed in one's choice of classic styles, simple and few in number, and much less subject to frequent and costly change than those passing fads which are here today and forgotten tomorrow. If it is normal for religious to be aware of social usage and to observe it when in their exterior relations they judge it necessary or useful, they must make the necessary effort to prevent it from entering so deeply into their lives as to create an endless chain of new needs. Let it suffice to men-tion the use of alcoholic drinks. Rare are those social functions, meals, and evenings from Which these are absent. If the religious is not on his guard, in multiplying his social relationships, he risks developing an acute need for alcohol. In this case, satisfaction can never be regarded as liberation, but rather a most insidious form of personal slavery. A Lack of Empathy Lack of empathy is particularly noticeable on those occasions when a religious must submit to a superior or to other members of his group his personal needs in view of an evaluation or control. It may happen that one's first reaction is to make comparisons with one's own needs, forgetting that each one is unique and therefore different; And so the superior says: I don't understand why you want to buy this secular outfit; I don'~ wear one and I've never suffered from not doing so. Or again: I never went to hear such and such a singer; I don't see what advantage you can get out of an evening so spent. Such a person never tries to put himself in the position of the one asking in order to be better able to understand his needs. He seeks rather to impose his own values on the other person or again to convince him that he does not have such a need because as superior he himself never experienced it. Without exactly realizing it, the superior may set himself up as a sort of prototype whom the others would profit by imitating. In following this sort of logic, ought he not require others to be hungry at the same time he is and with the same intensity, to be sleepy when he is, and to require the same number of hours of sleep? People incapable of this empathy are quite unable to evaluate the needs of others. We might as well say at the same time that they do not know how to exercise the service of authority, since they will never be able to understand those whom they are supposed to help. They may think they understand others, but as a matter of fact they understand only that which they can project on others. In general the person with little empathy is intolerant, not through ill will, but through his inability to put himself Authentic Sharing in Community / 2119 in the position of others. In wishing them well, he may even impose on them things that may cause them serious harm. Exclusive or Prior Right to Use The use of certain equipment may be necessary for a religious in the fulfillment of his office. It is considered essential for his work and he could not give it up without compromising the task confided to him. Such usage is valid and his confreres readily accept his use of what is neces-sary; but if they see that he has reserved for his exclusive use things for which he has no real need, at least at certain times, feelings of discontent-ment and a sense of injustice are not slow in surfacing. An example will help to make my point clear. Let us suppose that my work requires the use of a car quite regularly. On the days when I don't have to make any trips, those times when I travel by plane, am I going to lock up the car when I could just as well let others use it? If I put the car in the garage and the keys in my pocket, and if I force my com-panions to take the bus for their trips when the use of a car would be much appreciated and a real convenience for them, can I say sincerely that I am living the principle of fraternal sharing? In order to justify my conduct, I can no doubt find many reasons: A car is something one doesn't lend to just anybody; I must keep the things I need for my work in good condition; no one knows how to take care of them as I do; it is often a costly business to lend one's equipment; thb community has other cars for general use; etc. Underneath these reasons, all of which contain some element of truth, there is perhaps another which I won't admit: an undue attachment which makes me a slave of this thing. Deep down I prefer its safekeeping to communion with my brothers. In fact, my refusal to put the car at their disposition, far from favoring inter-personal relations, risks destroying them altogether and setting up barriers which are difficult to break down. If, after such conduct, I dare to repeat that goods should be oriented toward the well-being of the group and the strengthening of mutual relations, I must admit that in practice I sub-ordinate persons to things. If in my work, instead of this exclusive right to the use of equipment, I exercise what may be called a prior right to its use, I will quickly come to realize to what degree this type of use and the mentality which it de-velops favor fraternal union. Nobody denies that there are certain incon-veniences in this kind of sharing, that one risks finding one's things out of order, not in the same condition as one left them, etc. However, be-fore committing myself to sharing, ought I wait until no such risks are involved? If so, I mi~ght just as well say categorically that I refuse to share. Of course, everyone recognizes the existence of an occasional case when it would be better to keep one's tools exclusively for personal use. Such exceptions, however, do not modify the general rule according to 290 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 which the religious ought to exercise a prior right rather than an exclusive one to the use of those things necessary for the accomplishment of his duties. The first recognizes and favors fraternal sharing, while the second usually cuts it off abruptly. The Proprietor's Mentality Every religious making use of community goods can say, and he has reason: This property belongs to me; it has been put at my disposition by a moral person called the "province" or "institute." He may be inclined per-haps, in ~order to justify his poverty before those who do not believe in it anymore, to exaggerate the inconveniences of such a situation and to keep silent about the advantages which it affords. Sometimes he will even cover up his possessive attitude with regard to certain things saying that they do not belong to him and therefore he cannot lend them. Under pain of deny-ing the evidence, we must admit that some religious seem to have a pro-prietor's mentality with regard to goods belonging to the province or in-stitute. Such a mentality is an obstacle to fraternal sharing. If, in order to illustrate my idea, I use the community treasurer as an example, it is not that this mentality is more widespread among them than among other religious, but because frequent reference is made to them when this topic is discussed. In fact, it often happens that the treasurer acts as if he were the proprietor of the community's goods. He feels free to ask ques-tions, even indiscreet ones, about the sums of money requested, while actu-ally it is his business simply to hand over what has been authorized. He scolds others for expenditures which he has no right to judge. He may even insist on an itemized account which normally is given to the superior. When he gives out money, his gesture is marked by a pained expression as if part-ing with it hurt him physicallly. If we describe it at its worst, we might say that in keeping the purse-strings, he seems to keep the whole community on a,.leash. This caricature, although rough!y drawn, is not entirely the fruit of the imagination. If I have exaggerated some situations, I have reproduced others with an accuracy that no one can deny. It is not surprising if religious, subjected to caprices of this kind, no longer dare ask the community even for what is necessary, but arrange to obtain it outside, or keep a part of their salary or gifts received, in order to satisfy their needs. The changing of the name "procurator" to "economist," "treasurer," "controller," or whatever, does not remedy the evil. The real problem is not one of vocabulary, but of one's way of thinking, and it is this that must be changed. The bursar must recognize, in theory and in practice, that the property confided to his administration belongs to the community., that his task consists in managing it with competence, and in distributing it amiably to religious whose needs have been approved by authority. His office must not be the scene of daily contention, but rather a place where love operates under the guise of both gift and welcome. Authentic Sharing in Commitnity / Let me express sincere appreciation to all those religious who fill their post as treasurer with competency, interior detachment, and in a spirit of service. Everyone knows that theirs is often a thankless task, and one we could not do without. In accomplishing it with that joy and tact which love knows how to exercise, they can do much towards the realization of the ideal of fraternal sharing according to the real needs of each one. Fear, Embarrassment, Shame, Scruples in Regard to Asking Strange as it may appear, there are still some religious who are unable to express their real needs, who prefer to deprive themselves of what they need rather than ask for it. These religious, either by temperament or for-mation, have developed in themselves a fear, an embarrassment, shame, or even scruples about asking. Among them are those who are not earning, and on this account dare not mention their needs. Some of them think of themselves as a burden to the community. While helping these religious to free themselves from whatever prevents them" from asking for what they need, authority must take the initiative, offering them and even giving them whatever they may need. If this is considered an exaggeration, it is better to fail on the side of kindness and attention than on that of indifference and privation. It is always easier to notice the people who abuse than those whom we abuse. There also exists on the part of some a certain shame and embarrass-ment about asking which may be the result of our manner of community living and sharing in the past. I understand the uneasiness of those of thirty, forty, fifty, and more who still ask local authority or the treasurer for stamps, letter-paper, tooth-paste, soap, etc., but such a practice of com, munity sharing can no longer be justified in the name of poverty. Though long since outmoded, it has not yet totally disappeared. In my opinion it would be so much simpler, so much more adult and reas6nable, to put all these things for common use in a place where each one could take what he needs as he needs it. It is useless to complain of possible abuse in order to refuse such an elementary practice. The existence of such abuse is inevitable, whatever the manner of living the principle of common sharing. Would it not be better that the abuses accompany an adult practice of sharing instead of a childish and embarrassing one? In conclusion on this point let me say that one of the gravest abuses of the practice of religious poverty is that form of dependence which encourages and even develops personal irresponsi-bility. The Application of Various Formulas for Sharing Though there are several formulas for the sharing of go~ds, I do not in-tend here to present the advantages and inconveniences of each. I wish only to point out that the manner of applying any valid formula is able to trans-form it into an obstacle to fraternal sharing. Take for example the individual 292 / Review ]or Religious, F'olume 33, 1974/2 budget. It is, for religious in general, a practical manner for determining needs and when approved, of receiving whatever is necessary to meet them. This does not mean, however, that such a formula is best for all the religious of an institute, or of a province, or of a local community. There are some people who find a personal budget more of a useless bother than a help in practicing religious poverty. Why impose it on them then? On the other hand, why forbid it to the rest of the community just because some do not find it helpful? In ~. word, fraternal sharing is not free when the individual budget is refused or imposed on all alike. In those communities in which, in order to respect personal needs, the community budget is made obligatory and the individual budget optional, uniformity may compromise the quality of fraternal sharing. As regards the community budget it is rare, thanks be to God, to hear people use the argu-ment of uniformity to obtain more, to grant or to refuse permission. Wherever uniformity is the sole criterion for making requests or granting authorization, fraternal charity in the treatment of local groups is often ignored. Though two communities may be made up of the same number of persons, it does not follow that the needs of one be identical to the needs of the other. To respect each group in its uniqueness requires ordinarily both diversity and plurality in the manner of treatment. It is the same for individuals. How can anyone justify uniformity in the amount of money granted annually to religious who make use of a budget? Let us take the matter of clothing, for example. The one who is small and well-built will surely have an advantage over another less well-proportioned, with bulges here and there, not to mention fiat feet! Some would remedy this situation by asking that the first person hand in what he has left over, and that the second ask for what he still needs. However, one must admit that the latter remains in an awkward position as it is always harder to ex-tend the hand to receive than to turn in a surplus. In the end, would it not be simpler and more charitable to leave each one free to evaluate his cloth-ing needs and to ask for the money necessary to take care of them. The individual budget plan by which a uniform lump sum is given to all religious also presents, in actual practice, certain facets detrimental to fraternal sharing. Let us suppose that each religious of a local community receives $2500 annually, and that it is left to him to allocate this sum as he sees fit. Such procedure risks creating unjustifiable inequality. Religious whose parents live a few miles away will spend very little to goto see them regularly, while another having parents living at a distance, can visit them only rarely and under pain of seriously jeopardizing his budget. Isn't this a form of discrimination? Another weakness inherent in this plan is that the religious who can economize will manage to procure all sorts of valuable objects (record-play-ers, tape-recorders, etc.) and will have the clear impression, even the con- Authentic Sharing in Community / 293 viction, that these belong to h, im. Of course, he will feel free to take them with him on changing residenc~. As a last obstacle to fraternal sharing, let me add the refusal a priori of approving several different plains and allowing them to be used within the local community as the memlSers judge best. One would respect individual needs more surely if some wer~ permitted to use an individual budget, while others were given an allowan+e for expenses, and still others received the money necessary as the need arose. There are some very deserving religious who do not have any use for a~ individual budget or for a regular allowance and who desire to continue to~ practice poverty by asking for things as they need them. We violate the fraternal quality of our sharing if we impose on them a plan which burdens rather than frees them in their service of God. Conclusion The practice of fraternal sfiaring to which we are bound bestows on our I . community of goods its evangehcal and religious significance. Indeed, it is in order to strengthen the fraiernal bond which unites us and to express it before the world that we have chosen to put all our possessions into a com-mon fund, and to share them according to the real needs of each one. The obstacles that this sharing mebts in practice prove that it is difficult for all of us, because of our sinful condition, to observe perfectly that which we desire with all our hearts. However, the rehg~ous who recognizes the diffi-culties and makes an effort to leliminate them from his life, demonstrates his faith in those values for whic~ the fraternal community stands and his de-sire to collaborate construct~ve, ly in building it, depending on the support of Jesus Christ, thecenter of oui" lives, for a more perfect realization of it. The General Chapter of Affairs Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., a specialist !n canon law for religious, writes from St. Joseph'.s Church: 321 Willing's Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Pre-chapter Preparation : Pre-chapter preparation, despite its evident need, was almost univer-sally unknown before post-Vatican II general and provincial chapters. The delegates'to the general chapter should be elected hbout a year before the assehably of the chapter. This will make it possible to have the pre-chapter committees constituted predominantly of chapter members from the begin-ning. The superior general and his council, or a committee appointed by him, could have already inaugurated the work by securing the proposals from the members of the institute and having them arranged according to subject matter. These could be given almost immediately to the pre-chapter committees. The delegates may be elected earlier than a date determined in the constitutions, e.g., six months before the assembly of the chapter. This determination of time is a very accidental aspect of the law, and a rea-sonable cause excuses from it. The more fundamental content of such a law is to elect the delegates at a time that will give the best possible preparation for the chapter. I think myself that a committee of more than five is gener-ally less efficient. If the quantity of the work so demands, several parallel or sub-committees can be designated. As many as possible of those on a com-mittee should be competent in the field of the committee. Each institute should know from its experience of recent chapters and from the problems now facing it just what committees are needed. There should be a steering or co-ordinating committee. Other committees have been on the religious life, vows, constitutions, government, liturgy, formation, apostolate, finances, 294 The General Chapter o] Affairs / 295 retirement, and habit. Canon law has no legislation on committees. There-fore, it depends on the particular institute to determine the committees and their work; the members and chairpersons may be elected or appointed or be designated partially by both election and appointment; the chairpersons may be elected by the members of the particular committee. Manner of Pre-chapter Committee Preparation The one directing the pre-chapter preparation gives the proposals or chapter matter to the chairpersons of the pertinent committees, who in turn distribute them to the individual members of the committees to ~work up, dividing the matter as evenly as possible. Let us suppose that the following proposal has been assigned to an individual of the government committee: the term of office of the superior general should be reduced from six to five (four) years, with only one immediate re-election permitted. The committee member is to work up a report on this proposal in the manner of a secretary, an objective researcher, not as a supporter or antag-onist of the proposal or as a policy maker. The chapter makes the decision on enactments and policy, not the committee. The first thing the committee member does is to write down the number of the proposal, if these are num-bered. Identical and almost identical proposals are to be treated together on the same report. The committee member therefore next notes on the report the number that submitted it, for:example: 36 handed in this proposal for a five and 15 for a four year term. He then expresses the proposal in one statement or in parts but both in such a way as to permit a yes-no discussion and a yes-no decision. He next, under the heading~of sense, gives any ex-planations of the proposal, always being complete throughout the report but as ~clear and brief as possible. Submitted proposals, are almost, always wordier and more obscure than the example given above, but the term "im-mediate" in the example above could be briefly explained. He could well conclude the section on sense by a statement such as the following: The pi'oposal contains two ideas, a five (four) instead o1~ a"six year term andonly one immediate re-election. The heart of his report is in the following sec-tion, in which he gives all~ the reasons for and then all the reasons against the proposal, noting when any of these reasons has greater weight for or against the four than the five year term. He ends the report with his recom-mended decision: to be accepted, to be rejected, to be accepted with modi-fications. It is evident that the reasons for the acceptance or rejection are the favorable or unfavorable reasons he has already listed. He should add his reasons for suggesting modifications. Copies of this report are distributed to all the committee members. They are to be given adequate time for its study. When a sufficient number of reports are ready, they are to be dis-cussed in a committee meeting. The committee confirms, rejects in whole or in part, and corrects the report of the individual member, which thus becomes the committee report. The committee vote on the report and its :296 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 distinct parts should be included on it, e.g., 3 for, 2 against. Reports for all the proposals to be discussed in any period of sessions should be ready be-fore that period begins. These should be distributed to the capitulars at least on their arrival so that they can be properly studied. The failure to have such reports is a primary cause for the many unreflecting, inefficient, and slow general chapters we have had in the post-Vatican II years. Any religious experienced in chapters should see the need of reports of the type described above. They are demanded by evident facts. The primary such fact is that a chapter should make its decisions from convictions based on solid reasons. This will certainly not be attained unless there is a thorough investigation and study of the facts and reasons. It is also a sufficiently evident and most pertinent fact that many of the capitulars will not study the proposals beforehand. The reports will help to lessen their uninformed voting. Many capitulars will not be able to understand some proposals with-out such a report, for example, those who have had no experience in han-dling large sums of money can find financial proposals difficult to understand, and a religious who has not been in the novitiate since he left it thirty years ago will find. many ideas on formation most difficult to grasp. Proposals handed in by chapter members during the chapter should be processed through the pertinent committee in the manner described above. Subject Matter of the General Chapter of Affairs The norm of the practice of the Holy See for this has been the more im-portant matters that concern the entire institute. If the matter is not more important or does not concern the entire institute, it appertains to the ordi-nary government of the general, provincial, or local superiors. In the con-crete this matter has consisted of the proposals submitted by the members, provincial chapters, and the general capitulars during the time of the general chapter. The first observation is that the proposals under one aspect can readily be insufficient. Almost universally the proposals on a particular matter do not touch, at least adequately, all the more important aspects, difficulties, and problems of the particular field. Quite often they are concerned only with its accidental and lesser aspects. Very frequently also the admittance of a proposal will demand as a consequence or antecedently presume another proposal which has not been submitted. In all such cases, the pertinent com-mittee should add the required proposals, noting on each its committee source and the reasons why it was submitted by the committee. It is not very intelligent to have the submitted proposals as the subject matter, with-out designating anyone to point out and supply for the omissions and the lack of balance. In such a system, it can be almost a mere accident that the general chapter faces all the real problems of the institute. There has to be a way of rejecting very expeditiously the proposals that are less important and general or otherwise evidently inadmissible. Each The General Chapter of Affairs / 297 committee should list all such proposals submitted to it, and very early sub-mit this list to the co-ordinating committee. The latter should go over the lists and have them duplicated and distributed to the chapter members. Sufficient time should be granted for the proper study of the lists, and the chapter is then to be asked to reject all of them in the one vote. The per-mitted recourse against rejection should be of the following type. If a capitu-lar, not the one who submitted the proposal as such, believes that any such rejected proposal is worthy of a committee report and chapter discussion, he should hand in this proposal with his reasons for its repeated presenta-tion. The verdict on confirming or rescinding the rejection should not be made by the original rejecting committee but by the co-ordinating com-mittee. This will avoid having the same committee as both judge and de-fendant in the recourse. Greater Reduction of Matter Is Necessary The reduction of the work of the general chapter has to be much greater than the mere immediate rejection of proposals considered less important, less general, or otherwise evidently inadmissible in the past. No general chapter can s.atisfactorily handle a thousand or two thousand proposals. This is true even if the pre-chapter prepa.ration is most thorough and com-plete, The number of proposals that confronted very many post-Vatican II general chapters was prostrating. Nor is it sensible to think of more fre-quent general chapters; we have too many now. Not a great number of them have been religiously effective, and there is nothing in multiplication that augurs greater effectiveness. Perhaps the remedy is to cut down very severely the work of the general chapter to the particular matters that are very highly important and urgent and to give much greater attention to policies than to enactments and changes of enactments and laws in particular matters. Present Mentality Few will now even question the statement that we are faced by a crisis of authority. Pope Paul VI has often spoken~ of this crisis, for example: To mention another: there is the excessive emphasis on the right of the indi-vidual to do as he pleases, which leads to the rejection of any and all limits imposed from without and of any and all authority, however legitimate it may be (May 25, 1968, The Pope Speaks, 13 [1968], 222). In this way a mentality is spread which would like to claim that dis-obedience is legitimate and justified in order to protect the freedom that the sons of God should enjoy (January 29, 1970, ibid., 15 [1970], 54). Since therefore it is a visible society, the Church must necessarily have the power and function of making laws and seeing to it that they are obeyed. The Church's members in turn are obliged in conscience to observe these laws (December 13, 1972, ibid., 17 [1973], 376). This mentality of hostility tO authority and law is one of the very im-portant and urgent matters that a general chapter must face and strive to 2911 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 change, but it is also a fact that makes one question the enactment of many laws at present. Matters Excluded from the Competence of General Chapters Possessing Experimental Authority These chapters obviously cannot change ( 1 ) divine law, whether natural or revealed; (2) and without the previous appro'~al of the Sacred Congrega-tion for Religious and Secular Institutes these chapters may not put into effect anything that is contrary to the common law (canonical prescriptions, laws of Vatican II, and other laws and decrees of the Holy See); nor (3) make any change in the purpose, nature, and characteristics of any institute or in the Rule of an institute (Ecclesiae sanctae, n6. 6). Proposals These are made by the members of the institute and by provincial chap-ters. All are to be encouraged to make proposals; all are equally to be counseled to make only good proposals, and this means good for the entire institute. A proposal is to be judged by its content, but an obscure and un-duly long proposal is a certain indication of insufficient thought. The insuffi-ciency in this: case frequently extends to the content of the proposal. To find l~roposals a religious, should go over the life of the individual members and of,the community immediately with God, the community life, and the life of work. He should go through all pertinent books, e.g., the constitutions. He is to evaluate and to find ways to correct and improve the life of sanc-tity, the apostolate, the present policies and trends of the institute, its public image in the Church and in.general. He should evaluate, all innovations of the post-Vatican II years. Have they succeeded, failed, and in each case to what extent? Have the members of the institute become better religious, better participants in the community life, better apostles? What are the big problems facing the institute today? What is their solution? What is the re-ligious' effectiveness of superiors, their councilors, those in charge of forma-tion, of the works of the al:iOstolate? Is the tenor and style of life in the houses conducive to the religious life, the apostolate, a religiously satisfy-ing community life? Are your proposals solid, progressive without being im-prudent? Do they all propose freedom from something that is difficult and demands sacrifice? Proposals must be signed only and to the extent that this is com-manded by the law of the institute. A final day, well ahead of the opening of the general chapter, must be determined for the handing in of proposals. All, including general capitulars, should hand in their proposals during this tim& The general capitulars retain the right of making proposals during the chapter: Toward the close of the chapter, a date is to be determined be-yond which no proposal will be accepted. All of these provisions are to enable the committees to process the proposals properly and in due time. The General Chapter o/ Affairs / 299. The right to make proposals is determined by the law or practice of the particular institute. Those who do not have this right may suggest proposals, preferably in writing, to ~those who do enjoy the right. The latter may but are .not obliged to accept merely suggested proposals (see Review ]or Re-ligious, 23 [1964], 359-64). Position Papers and Questionnaires These were the high hurdle and wide stream obstacles in the procedure of. so many special general chapters, and few of these chapters landed fully on the opposite bank. Position papers were also at times a means on the part of committees of appropriating to themselves the policy making func-tion of the chapter. Questionnaires were frequently the substitution of a none too reasonable head count for a vote given because of convincing reasons. A background paper or questionnaire is only rarely necessary or advisable, e.g, an intelligent vote, for or against a particular proposal can demand a brief historical description. If so, the background paper should be prepared.~ Authority of the Superior General in Pre-chapter Preparation The superior general, assisted by his council, has authority over the entire pre-chapter preparation. This is evident from the fact that, outside of the general chapter, there is no one else on the general level of authority and from canon 502, which places the institute under his authority (see Ecclesiae sanctae, no. 4). Frequently at least a superior general gives ample delegation to. another religious to direct and supervise this preparation, e.g., to the Chairperson, of the steering or co-ordinating committee. However, the superior general can always lessen or~'withdraw such authority, lie may also always step in to correct and guide particular matters, individuals, or committees. Post-Vatican II general and provinc, ial chapters have often been vanquished in the pre-chapter preparation. The game was lost before it began. The superior general is not arbitrarily to interfere in or hamper the, work of the committees, but he should be completely aware of what is going on in all committees. He should be very sensitive to a too conservative or a too leftist~ approach and, even more practically, ~to a group that is unduly and wrongly influencing the pre-chapter preparation. ' Attaining a:Universal Voice in Chapters Especially since about 1965 we have had a constant clamor that the religious of temporary vows or other commitment be permitted to be dele-gates to the general and provincial chapters. This has been an outstandingly unreal issue of recent years.The clear fact has been that the young were talking in the chapters and pre-chapter preparation. The voice that was not being heard was that of the older and of many middle-aged religious and chapter members. This has been true also in other discussion groups, for example, local community discussions. Our need and problem of the-mo- 300 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 ment is to hear the older and the middle-aged religious. I doubt that this can be attained at this time except by having the chapter discussions start with small discussion groups. Each group should be composed of religious of all ages. This system would demand a sufficiently competent chairperson and secretary in each group, the report by the secretary of the group, and the distribution of copies of the reports of each group and of the composite report of all the groups before the common discussion of the matter in the whole chapter. The attainment of the most accurate and efficient procedure in this matter demands a very thorough study. Discussion groups are a time consuming means. They could be employed only for the more serious mat-ters. My own sincere judgment, based on the observation of chapters, is that such a means is necessary to hear the voice of the older and of many mid-dle- aged religious, especially of sisters. Part of the factual basis of this judg-ment is the lack of the older and middle-aged voice manifested very gen-erally in post-Vatican II chapters, that is, the effects that.revealed an inex-perienced, imprudent, and exaggerated origin. As far back as 1901, the Roman Congregations governing religious have refused to approve those of temporary vows or other commitment as dele-gates in the general and provincial chapters. Chapter Principles The preceding section on proposals lists fairly adequately the aspects and fields that can give rise to proposals. Proposals can also be drawn from the principles that should guide chapters, communities, and individuals, which we shall give in this section. The supreme principle is that all should seek the greater good of the Church and of the whole institute, not merely of some part of it or of some group in it. Seek the good not merely of the young, but also of the middle-aged and the aged. A high degree of differ-ence in some aspect of life that is verified in any particular country or re-gion should receive its proper consideration. This is to be true not merely of the United States but of any other country, of Germany, France, Italy, England, Japan. Differences do not exist in all aspects of life. The American has no less need of prayer and mortification than the Italian. Obviously no nation is to give the impression of being superior to all other nations. All should retain all the good of the past and be willing to accept all good ideas of the present and of the future. It is equally the duty of all to oppose anything that is useless or harmful to the institute or its members. Any false principle such as disobedience, especially if public, to the govern-ing or teaching authority of the Church should be immediately rejected. The goal in prayer is not freedom but a more universal life of constant prayer. The Holy Spirit guides practically all of us by the ordinary way, and this implies that our problems, difficulties and their solution are at least gen-erally ordinary. Little will be gained from a study of oriental mysticism or concentration or from emphasizing the charismatic. Much will be gained to The General Chapter o] Affairs / 301 the extent that it is realized that the difficulties in prayer are the very ordi-nary things of the lack of desire for sanctity of life, the unwillingness to make the sacrifices that such a life demands, the lack of a realization that prayer demands a constant effort, an impersonal spirituality, a poor introduction to mental prayer, a complicated system or machinery of mental prayer, a neglect of spiritual reading, a life that is merely activist, natural, secular, and similar ordinary things. If a chapter accepts open placement, how can the institute staff missions, colleges, hospitals, schools, homes for the aged? Can there be a generally satisfying community life when there is unlimited home visiting and unlimited going out for diversion? W.hy always leap to the new, the youthful, the leftist? Certainly sometimes the old, the moderate, the conservative is the true, the relevant, the practical. Why run to manage-ment consultants before you have tried a thorough investigation, study, and planning on your own? If any advisers gave false and imprudent advice, this advice can be the perfect mirror of what was wanted. List everything that your institute has adopted in renewal and adaptation. How many of these have helped the members to become better religious, better apostles, better Catholics? It is certainly not easy to start all over; neither is it any too comfortable to be on a plane that is speeding to certain extinction. The dominant thought of any chapter has to be the spiritual, the su-pernatural, the eternal not only with regard to the personal lives of the in-dividual religious but also to the apostolate and community life. Natural development and fulfillment and social work are important but not primary, nor are they the soul of the religious life or of its apostolate. Reject ideas and proposals that are disproportionately expensive. All experimentation in the Church and much more its worship should be carried out in a manner that is adult, mature, dignified, restrained rather than undisciplined and reckless, and not marred by the extremes of either the right or the left. The common saying is that religious dress is not an important question. This is true of religious dress in the abstract and considered merely in itself. In its effects and ramifications, religious dress, especially of women, is certainly an important question. In the past the error was to identify the old with the true, the good, and the relevant; the same error is verified now with regard to the new. Re-evaluate every post-Vatican II experiment and change. In-vestigate every question and adopt the solution that the facts demand or counsel; do not start off with a new structure or theory. The goal is only secondarily to renew and adapt the institute; the primary purpose must be to influence the religious to renew and adapt themselves. The thrust is pri-marily personal, not institutional. There is one essential test of past, present, and future experimentation. Does it produce greater sanctity of life, a deeper and wider community life, a greater spiritual effect in the apostolate? One of the most important qualities demanded in superiors and chapters today is the courage to stand with the wise and oppose the foolish. How many of your schools, colleges, and other institutions are very secular? Can you 302 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/2 justifiably allow this to continue and progress? Take anything and every-thing that is good and helpful from psychology and sociology, but never forget that they are no substitute for revelation, morality, or spiritual theol-ogy. How many factual studies were made that proved the later difficulties and defections of religious were found especially in those who entered im-mediately after high school? Honestly face the vocation problem and any of its causes that may exist in the individual and collective lives of your re-ligious. It is possible to emphasize the dignity of the married life without denigrating the religious life. Is the life style of your religious in conformity with the deep totality of the religious consecration? Do all things conduce to greater sanctity, better community life, and a more spiritual apostolate? Are we complaining about the lack of inspiration in the religious life after we buried it in selfishness, materialism, and naturalism? Adopt only what gives at least solid probability of success; otherwise your conduct is at least ordinarily imprudent or even rash. Procedure in lhe Chapter The chapter procedure should be kept as simple and uncomplicated as possible. The need of recourse to parliamentary procedure should be infre-quent, and each institute is now in a position to list the few parliamentary rules that are practical. The secretary of the chapter is to post the agenda for the sessions of a day at least on the preceding evening. It can be the understanding that the proposals or matters are to be taken in the order of the reports distributed to
1.Introduzione Nel 2014, nell'ambito dell'Agenzia Europea Frontex, prese avvio l'operazione Triton, coordinata dall'Italia. Da quel momento e fino al 2018, tutte le persone soccorse in mare dovevano essere portate in salvo sulle coste italiane. Una volta arrivate sul territorio, queste persone dovevano essere messe nella condizione di potere avanzare una richiesta di asilo o di protezione internazionale. Il già esistente sistema di accoglienza dedicato alle persone richiedenti asilo (SPRAR) si basava sulla disponibilità volontaria degli enti locali e non era in grado di gestire l'elevato numero di persone in arrivo. Furono per questa ragione istituiti (art. 11 Dlgs. n.142/2015) i Centri di Accoglienza Straordinaria (CAS) sotto la diretta gestione degli Uffici Territoriali del Governo (Prefetture). I CAS erano quindi pensati come strutture temporanee ed emergenziali. Le azioni messe in atto dai CAS dovevano, innanzitutto, rispondere ai bisogni primari delle persone accolte, in termini di vitto, alloggio e assistenza sanitaria. Ma, a dispetto del loro carattere temporaneo, e alla stregua dello SPRAR, i CAS avevano l'obbligo di svolgere attività (apprendimento della lingua italiana, istruzione, formazione, inserimento nel mondo del lavoro e nel territorio, assistenza legale e psicosociale) finalizzate all'acquisizione di strumenti di base per favorire i migranti accolti nei processi di integrazione, di autonomia e di acquisizione di una cittadinanza consapevole. 1.1 I richiedenti asilo: L'accoglienza in Italia e una possibile traiettoria resiliente La maggior parte dei richiedenti asilo proveniva dall'Africa subsahariana o dall'Asia Meridionale (Afghanistan e Bangladesh e Pakistan) e aveva alle spalle un lungo viaggio di cui la traversata mortifera via mare o attraverso i Balcani o il Caucaso era solo l'ultima tappa. La durata media del viaggio dal paese di origine era di venti mesi, che si svolgevano quasi sempre al limite della soglia di sopravvivenza. È ormai ben documentato il fatto che la privazione di cibo, di ripari, l'affaticamento estremo, il senso di minaccia, i maltrattamenti ripetuti, i lutti dovuti alla perdita di persone care durante gli spostamenti sono condizioni che accomunavano tutti questi percorsi migratori. A queste, si aggiungeva, per la maggior parte di loro, un periodo di reclusione, che poteva superare l'anno, nei centri di detenzione della Libia dove le condizioni disumane, la pratica sistematica della tortura e della violenza sessuale sono state rese note e denunciate dalle principali organizzazioni internazionali, come Medici Senza Frontiere e Amnesty International (Fondazione Migrantes, 2018). Inoltre, l'alto potenziale traumatico di queste esperienze si aggiunge a vissuti altrettanto tragici legati alle circostanze di vita nel paese di partenza che aumentano la vulnerabilità dei migranti. Infatti, questi sono il più delle volte costretti a scappare da condizioni di instabilità politica, di gravi conflitti interni civili e di estrema povertà. È per quanto fin qui descritto che si può affermare che le persone in arrivo nei CAS sono portatrici di storie potenzialmente traumatiche e ad alta complessità psicosociale che richiedono un'attenzione particolare. Le pratiche d'accoglienza che vengono messe in atto nei centri devono tenere conto di tale complessità nel rispondere ai bisogni di ogni persona, sia nella dimensione psicologica sia in quella sociale. In questo modo, nel cercare di raggiungere l'obiettivo ultimo dell'integrazione dei richiedenti accolti, i progetti d'accoglienza potrebbero favorire la definizione di un loro processo di resilienza che li porti a vivere una condizione socialmente accettabile e di benessere. Il concetto di resilienza ha suscitato molto interesse in letteratura negli ultimi decenni. Un primo dato storico nell'evoluzione della teorizzazione di questo concetto (Cicchetti & Garmezy,1993) è lo spostamento dell'interesse dalla patologia e dalla vulnerabilità alla resilienza, che si può ricondurre alla diffusione di una prospettiva positiva e salutogena nella ricerca e nella pratica clinica e psicosociale (Bonanno & Diminitch, 2013; Bonanno, Westphal, & Mancini, 2011; Cicchetti, 2013; Cyrulnik & Malaguti,2015; Walsh, 2016). Negli anni il concetto di resilienza è stato indagato a partire da diversi approcci. Da alcuni autori (Costa & McRae, 1980) è stato studiato come un tratto di personalità, stabile e fisso, da altri (Wagnild & Young, 1993) come l'abilità di fronteggiare e adattarsi positivamente a eventi stressanti o avversivi. Cicchetti (2013), concettualizzando la resilienza come un processo, ha concentrato l'attenzione sui fattori che lo determinano, con particolare interesse a quelli genetici e neurali. Bonanno e Diminitch (2013) si sono, invece, concentrati su quei fattori di rischio o quelle condizioni esistenziali potenzialmente vulnerabili che possono determinare il processo e che gli autori (Bonanno et al., 2011) definiscono come eventi potenzialmente traumatici (EPT). Rutter (2012), da parte sua, ha teorizzato la resilienza come un concetto dinamico dato dalla continua interazione tra i fattori protettivi e di rischio, portando all'attenzione l'influenza ambientale. Tuttavia, sebbene l'autore (Rutter, 2012) abbia messo in luce la funzione dell'ambiente nel processo di resilienza, sono gli approcci più ecologici e sociali (Anaut, 2005; Cyrulnik, 2001; Cyrulnik & Malaguti, 2015; Malaguti, 2012; Walsh, 2016) che hanno enfatizzato e dato maggiore importanza ai fattori contestuali, sociali, familiari e relazionali nella definizione del processo di resilienza. In particolare, secondo Cyrulnik (2001), posti i fattori di protezione, il processo non può avvenire che nell'ambito di relazioni significative. Nello specifico, l'autore distingue tre elementi fondamentali che rendono conto, nell'insieme, del processo: 1- le esperienze pregresse nell'infanzia e nella storia personale dell'individuo, la qualità dei legami di attaccamento e la capacità di mentalizzazione; 2- il trauma e le sue caratteristiche (strutturali, contingenti ed emotive e sociali); 3- la possibilità di risignificare la tragedia avvenuta attraverso il sostegno affettivo e la relazione d'aiuto, descritta, genericamente come l'incontro con l'Altro. Secondo l'autore, la persona costruisce nel proprio passato, in particolar modo durante l'infanzia, attraverso il legame di attaccamento sufficientemente sicuro, le risorse e la capacità di mentalizzazione utili per affrontare e risignificare il trauma. È in questo spazio relazionale quindi che la persona forma una rappresentazione di Sé come persona amabile, capace di affidarsi e di costruire relazioni forti e significative anche in futuro. La capacità e la possibilità di costruire queste relazioni sono viste come le condizioni che possono aiutare la persona a riconoscere le risorse da attivare per superare la profonda ferita incisa dall'esperienza traumatica e per ristabilire un equilibrio nella propria esistenza. Nell'ultima fase della sua teoria l'autore specifica l'importanza di una figura che chiama tutore di sviluppo o di resilienza, le cui caratteristiche e funzioni sono approfonditamente delineate nella pubblicazione di Lighezzolo, Marchal, & Theis (2003). Secondo gli autori, il tutore di resilienza deve favorire un processo di autonomia e ri-strutturazione del sé, trasmettere sapere, fornire esempi e modelli che permettano e legittimino l'errore; non deve quindi ricoprire un ruolo insostituibile e onnipotente. Il tutore di resilienza, sia esso una persona adulta informale o una figura istituzionalizzata nel sistema di cura e presa in carico della persona, è una risorsa esterna che coadiuva nel processo di resilienza. In questo ultimo caso, la formazione e la definizione del ruolo dell'operatore nel processo di presa in carico contribuiranno alla costruzione di un efficace intervento sociale e clinico per la promozione della resilienza nell'assistito (Manciaux, 2001). Negli ultimi anni, una serie di rassegne internazionali (Agaibi & Wilson, 2005; Siriwardhana, Ali, Roberts, & Stewart, 2014; Sleijpen, Boeije, Kleber, & Mooren. 2016) e in Italia (Tessitore & Margherita, 2017), hanno tentato di sistematizzare i risultati degli studi sul processo di resilienza nell'esperienza potenzialmente pluritraumatica della migrazione, con particolare attenzione alla condizione esistenziale di rifugiato. I risultati evidenziano e si concentrano, soprattutto, sui principali fattori di rischio e quelli protettivi che possono intervenire nel processo di resilienza a seguito di queste esperienze pluritraumatiche. In questi lavori emerge, tuttavia, la necessità per la ricerca di individuare strategie e procedure per interventi e pratiche mirati ed efficaci a promuovere il processo di resilienza nei contesti dell'accoglienza. In particolare, rispetto al contesto italiano si riscontra che sono stati svolti pochi studi sul tema, ancora da approfondire (Tessitore & Margherita, 2017). L'analisi approfondita delle pratiche costruite e messe in atto nell'ambito dell'accoglienza negli ultimi anni in Italia risulta rilevante per una sistematizzazione di conoscenze e competenze e utili per la progettazione di interventi psicosociali efficaci. La presente ricerca si poneva l'obiettivo di studiare, se e in che misura, le pratiche dell'accoglienza e le strategie di intervento messe in atto nel sistema CAS di Parma e Provincia abbiano favorito un processo di resilienza nei richiedenti asilo accolti. Inoltre, si poneva l'obiettivo di comprendere se e in che modo l'operatore dell'accoglienza potesse svolgere una funzione di tutore di resilienza. Poiché basandosi sulla teorizzazione di Cyrulnik (2001), l'esito del processo di resilienza è dato dall'interazione dei fattori protettivi individuali, dalla qualità/intensità del trauma e/o comunque delle situazioni avverse e dall'incontro con i possibili tutori di resilienza, il progetto si è sviluppato in due fasi e ha tenuto conto sia dell'esperienza dei richiedenti asilo sia di quella degli operatori. Rispettivamente, nella prima fase l'obiettivo della ricerca si proponeva di individuare le risorse/vincoli personali presenti nella biografia dei richiedenti asilo, i vissuti emotivi e la qualità dei legami stabiliti nel passato, di individuare le risorse/vincoli messe in gioco durante il viaggio e, infine, di individuare le risorse/vincoli con funzione protettiva dal momento dell'arrivo in Italia e in particolare nel CAS di residenza e nella relazione con gli operatori. Nella seconda fase, la ricerca mirava a individuare le risorse e le competenze, rintracciabili nelle biografie degli operatori dei CAS messe in gioco nella pratica professionale e di conoscere le loro motivazioni alla base della scelta professionale, e a comprendere il significato e l'uso consapevole della relazione con i richiedenti asilo nella loro pratica professionale e, infine, a valutare la qualità della loro vita professionale tenendo conto del forte carico emotivo dovuto alla relazione con i richiedenti asilo e il loro vissuti traumatici. 2. Migrazione ed Europa: Una revisione sistematica sulla promozione della resilienza dei richiedenti asilo negli Stati membri dell'Unione Europea. La migrazione è un fenomeno complesso determinato dall'interazione di fattori di espulsione e di attrazione. L'Europa ha sempre svolto un ruolo di attrazione nei flussi migratori. Negli ultimi anni, le direttive per gli Stati membri hanno mirato a promuovere il benessere dei richiedenti asilo. È importante sviluppare la resilienza per raggiungere il benessere delle persone. L'obiettivo della revisione sistematica è stato quello di esplorare come viene studiata la resilienza nei richiedenti asilo nei paesi dell'UE. Sono stati consultati i database internazionali PsycINFO, PubMed, Web of science, Scopus, MEDLINE, Psychology e behavioural collection. Gli articoli sono stati analizzati secondo i criteri PRISMA. Sono stati ottenuti 12 articoli. Dall'analisi qualitativa sono emersi tre approcci principali e quattro principi teorici fondamentali che potrebbero guidare lo studio della resilienza in contesti migratori. Lo studio della resilienza può essere orientato verso un approccio clinico, clinico e sociale o psicosociale. Inoltre, la ricerca ha tenuto conto della necessità di costruire una nuova narrazione di sé e della propria storia nei richiedenti asilo, di restituire agency ai richiedenti asilo, di valorizzare il proprio contesto culturale e quello del paese ospitante e di promuovere una democratizzazione del sistema istituzionale di accoglienza. Si suggeriscono implicazioni per le politiche degli Stati membri dell'UE coinvolti in prima linea nella gestione dell'accoglienza in Europa. Data la limitata letteratura sull'argomento, questa rassegna suggerisce una nuova e originale visione di presa in carico dei richiedenti asilo attraverso una maggiore implementazione di interventi focalizzati sull'individuo e sulle sue risorse. 3. Promozione della salute psicosociale nei migranti: una revisione sistematica della ricerca e degli interventi sulla resilienza nei contesti migratori. La resilienza è identificata come una capacità chiave per prosperare di fronte a esperienze avverse e dolorose e raggiungere un buono stato di salute psicosociale equilibrato. Questa revisione mirava ad indagare come la resilienza è intesa nel contesto della ricerca sul benessere dei migranti e come gli interventi psicosociali sono progettati per migliorare la resilienza dei migranti. Le domande della ricerca hanno riguardato la concettualizzazione della resilienza, le conseguenti scelte metodologiche e quali programmi di intervento sono stati indirizzati ai migranti. Nei 63 articoli inclusi, è emersa una classica dicotomia tra la resilienza concettualizzata come capacità individuale o come risultato di un processo dinamico. È anche emerso che l'importanza delle diverse esperienze migratorie non è adeguatamente considerata nella selezione dei partecipanti. Gli interventi hanno descritto la procedura ma meno la misura della loro efficacia. 4. Il sistema d'accoglienza straordinaria di Parma e provincia: soddisfazione e benessere percepito dai migranti accolti. I servizi e le progettualità messi in atto nei CAS mirano a favorire integrazione, autonomia e benessere. Questi obiettivi si strutturano sull'attivazione e promozione di risorse dei richiedenti asilo. Nello specifico, vanno ad innestarsi sulle loro abilità, sulle conoscenze, sulle competenze, sulla loro agency e sulla capacità di proiettarsi verso un futuro. Poiché i richiedenti asilo sono i principali attori e fruitori di questi servizi, la valutazione di efficacia e di raggiungimento degli obiettivi preposti deve tenere conto necessariamente del loro punto di vista. I richiedenti asilo che hanno partecipato allo studio erano circa il 20% della popolazione dei richiedenti asilo adulti presenti nel territorio di Parma e provincia. Per la stratificazione del campione si è tenuto conto della variabile del paese di origine, della collocazione sul territorio provinciale (distretto) e il tempo di permanenza nel sistema CAS. È stato costruito un questionario ad hoc che mirava ad indagare la percezione di autonomia, di benessere personale, di soddisfazione verso sé stesso, la percezione di essere rispettato nelle proprie tradizioni culturali e la soddisfazione verso il servizio. Il questionario constava di una parte introduttiva, che forniva una breve descrizione al partecipante delle finalità d'indagine, e di diverse sezioni, che indagavano e approfondivano specifiche aree (temi) di interesse. Le prime due aree hanno rilevato i dati socio-anagrafici e il viaggio dei richiedenti asilo. La terza e la quarta area hanno indagato l'accoglienza nel centro e la struttura in cui risiedeva il beneficiario. Le altre aree si sono concentrate sui servizi primari (beni e servizi di prima necessità, assistenza medica) e servizi secondari (assistenza legale, lingua italiana, sostegno psicosociale, lavoro, mediazione culturale, orientamento al territorio e tempo libero) che gli venivano offerti. Le ultime sezioni si focalizzavano sul rapporto con gli operatori, sul progetto individualizzato e sui propri piani futuri. Alla fine del questionario vi era una breve sezione che mirava ad indagare la soddisfazione generale verso l'intero processo di accoglienza in Italia e la specifica esperienza nel territorio di Parma e provincia. Sono state effettuate delle analisi ed elaborazioni statistiche descrittive tramite il software SPSS. Dal questionario è emerso un quadro complessivo dei servizi offerti e una mappatura delle pratiche messe in atto all'interno delle strutture a partire dal punto di vista dei richiedenti asilo. Questi hanno espresso una generale soddisfazione del sistema accoglienza in Italia e in particolare di quella ricevuta a Parma. Hanno riportato un senso di protezione e sicurezza e una generale percezione di capacità e autonomia raggiunta in molti dei servizi e ambiti della quotidianità. Le aree più critiche sono risultate essere l'assistenza legale, l'avviamento lavorativo, la creazione di relazioni sociali con italiani nel tempo libero, la progettazione individualizzata e in particolare il sostegno psicosociale e, infine, la progettazione futura. In queste aree i richiedenti asilo hanno espresso una bassa soddisfazione verso il servizio di sostegno ricevuto, una scarsa consapevolezza di sé e delle proprie capacità e una bassa percezione di un'autonomia conquistata dal singolo servizio e, più in generale, dalla struttura d'accoglienza. 5. Vissuti, fattori di protezione e fattori di rischio nelle biografie dei richiedenti asilo: la definizione di traiettorie di resilienza nei Centri d'Accoglienza Straordinaria. I richiedenti asilo sono portatori di storie potenzialmente traumatiche a seguito delle quali possono vivere distress psicologico e PTSD nel paese d'accoglienza. Qui vengono inseriti in programmi che mirano a favorire benessere psicologico e integrazione. Tale processo è definito resilienza, La resilienza è un processo che vede le persone impegnate a guarire da esperienze dolorose, a prendersi cura della propria vita per continuare a svilupparsi positivamente in modo socialmente accettabile. Il presente studio mira a comprendere i fattori di protezione e le risorse personali e sociali che possono favorire il superamento dei traumi e un processo di resilienza nei richiedenti asilo. Sono stati somministrati 29 test CORE-10 e questionari costruiti ad hoc per il sostegno sociale percepito e condotte altrettante interviste in profondità. Con risultati moderati e gravi di distress psicologico nei partecipanti, sono emersi fattori protettivi e risorse già nella fase pre-migratoria. I legami di accudimento sembrano svolgere una funzione protettiva anche durante l'accoglienza, favorendo la costruzione di rapporti di fiducia. Il supporto sociale della comunità d'accoglienza e quello degli operatori nei centri possono influenzare la definizione di traiettorie resilienti. Lo studio solleva implicazioni di tipo clinico e sociale. Nei suoi limiti lo studio vuole essere un'apertura a nuovi approfondimenti di ricerca. 6. La qualità della vita professionale di chi lavora con i richiedenti asilo: Compassion Staisfaction, Burnout e Secondary Traumatic Stress negli operatori dell'accoglienza In Italia negli ultimi anni sono stati strutturati Centri di Accoglienza Straordinaria per rispondere ai bisogni primari e secondari dei richiedenti asilo approdati sulle coste mediterranee. A seguito dell'apertura dei CAS, sul territorio nazionale si è formato un nuovo corpo professionale, i professionisti dell'accoglienza. Poiché inizialmente non è stata richiesta una formazione specifica in base al contesto e agli obiettivi posti, il loro profilo professionale derivava tendenzialmente dai diversi percorsi formativi e lavorativi precedenti. Considerando il mandato istituzionale del loro lavoro, quale favorire l'accoglienza e una completa presa in carico dei richiedenti asilo, i professionisti dell'accoglienza sono quotidianamente coinvolti nella relazione con gli accolti ed esposti ai racconti traumatici o ai sintomi agiti di questi. Infatti, i richiedenti asilo sono persone spesso profondamente traumatizzate dalle esperienze passate, dal viaggio, ma anche disorientate e impreparate per la complessa esperienza dell'accoglienza e dell'integrazione. Questo aspetto del lavoro con i richiedenti asilo può influenzare il clima e la qualità della vita professionale dei professionisti dell'accoglienza. Infatti, come nelle altre professioni d'aiuto continuamente esposte a eventi stressanti o traumatici, anche nel lavoro di cura e accoglienza dei richiedenti asilo è alto il rischio di sviluppare i sintomi negativi associati al burnout e al trauma vicario. Sebbene, negli ultimi venti anni, la qualità della vita professionale sia stata ampiamente approfondita in diversi settori, non risultano studi che esplorino questo tema tra i professionisti del settore dell'accoglienza. In questo studio è stato sottoposto il questionario ProQOL 5 ai professionisti dell'accoglienza dei Centri di Accoglienza Straordinaria di Parma e provincia, attivamente coinvolti nella relazione d'aiuto con i richiedenti asilo, con lo scopo di definire lo stato di benessere psicosociale rispetto alla loro qualità di vita professionale. Anche se si è dimostrato che mediamente i professionisti dell'accoglienza riportano una buona soddisfazione nello svolgere il proprio lavoro, sono emersi tre profili. Il primo gruppo sembra esprimere soprattutto Burnout, il secondo gruppo una maggiore Compassion Satisfaction e il terzo gruppo un malessere evidente sia per il Burnout che per il Secondary Traumatic Stress. I dati ottenuti permettono di colmare parzialmente un vuoto nella letteratura di settore. Inoltre, la rilevanza dei dati spinge alla riflessione sulla possibilità di incoraggiare interventi efficaci di prevenzione e management delle organizzazioni, al fine di favorire il benessere psicosociale di questo corpo professionale emergente. 7. Essere professionisti dell'accoglienza: l'importanza di un uso consapevole del Se' nella relazione d'aiuto e la funzione del tutore di resilienza. All'interno dei CAS sono stati impiegati professionisti di differenti background formativi ed esperienziali. Appannaggio degli operatori è l'attivazione dei servizi interni ed esterni e il monitoraggio di tutte le fasi del progetto di accoglienza. La presa in carico si configurerebbe come una relazione d'aiuto possibile attraverso la compresenza di diversi aspetti di Sé. Chi lavora con i richiedenti asilo deve affrontare e gestire vissuti potenzialmente traumatici che influenzano il buon esito dell'intervento clinico-sociale. Nel favorire benessere psicologico nei beneficiari, gli operatori svolgono funzioni che richiamano quelle del tutore di resilienza. In questo studio si è esplorata la rappresentazione dei professionisti dell'accoglienza e la consapevolezza di Sé a partire dal loro punto di vista. Sono stati condotti tre focus group e le trascrizioni verbatim sono state analizzate secondo l'approccio IPA. Sono emersi tre aspetti del Sé (Sé personale, Sé professionale e Sé burocrate). Il Tempo e il Contesto sociale sono risultate possibili variabili che influenzano la relazione d'aiuto. Lo studio propone implicazioni di ricerche future e di policy. 8. Conclusioni Negli anni il sistema italiano dell'accoglienza si era ormai rodato e formalizzato su due principali dispositivi: il sistema SPRAR e i cosiddetti Centri di Accoglienza Straordinaria (CAS). Tuttavia, negli ultimi due anni, con il cosiddetto decreto Salvini (D.lg. 4/19/2018 n° 113), si è assistito ad un graduale ridimensionamento dei numeri degli accolti e ad una conseguente chiusura di strutture del sistema CAS. Pertanto, assume rilevanza e importanza capitalizzare le esperienze di accoglienza e comprenderne maggiormente le potenzialità e i limiti. Con la presente ricerca e le analisi delle pratiche d'accoglienza e delle progettualità messe in atto all'interno del sistema CAS sono emersi due risultati principali. Il primo risultato emerso è che i richiedenti asilo accolti abbiano consapevolezza delle risorse e dei fattori protettivi che hanno acquisito nell'arco di vita. Inoltre, si è evidenziata una forte e imprescindibile interdipendenza tra i vissuti psicologici, i bisogni e le risorse dei richiedenti asilo e la funzione relazionale dell'operatore dell'accoglienza. Dalla ricerca è emerso che il valore di tale interdipendenza, non essendo riconosciuto formalmente e quindi esplicitamente richiamato nelle norme e regolamentazioni, era dipeso da un reciproco riconoscimento dei richiedenti asilo accolti e degli operatori. Tuttavia, questa relazione, se opportunamente strutturata e formalizzata, può favorire la definizione di traiettorie di resilienza e il raggiungimento degli obiettivi di integrazione, autonomia e benessere psicosociale. Al momento in cui è stata condotta la ricerca, questi obiettivi erano parzialmente raggiunti. Infatti, sebbene nel sistema d'accoglienza i richiedenti asilo abbiano percepito di essere in un luogo sicuro e protetto e fossero generalmente soddisfatti dei servizi offerti, hanno riportato livelli medio-alti di disagio psicologico. Il valore traumatico delle loro esperienze di vita è stato esplorato e compreso nella sua diacronicità, in quanto i vissuti traumatici sono rintracciabili non solo durante il viaggio ma già nelle esperienze pre-migratorie. Le biografie dei richiedenti asilo sono segnate da profonde ferite, che spesso risalgono a perdite, lutti o tradimenti da parte delle figure significative dell'infanzia o della comunità allargata, fino a sentirsi espulsi dalle politiche disattente degli Stati d'appartenenza. Anche l'arrivo in Italia e l'inserimento nel sistema d'accoglienza comportano sfide esistenziali, che in alcuni casi arrivano a reiterare esperienze traumatiche passate. Nonostante questo, i richiedenti asilo hanno mostrato consapevolezza delle proprie risorse e dei fattori di protezione acquisiti già durante l'infanzia, attraverso le relazioni significative e di accudimento. Queste risorse hanno svolto una funzione di protezione e sostegno nel loro sforzo psicologico di fronteggiare e sopravvivere alle avversità incontrate in tutto l'arco di vita. Nonostante la loro consapevolezza e tenuto conto della permanenza relativamente lunga nel sistema d'accoglienza, è risultato che le esperienze traumatiche non trovano uno spazio adeguato di ascolto e di ri-significazione una volta inseriti nei progetti di accoglienza. Le caratteristiche strutturali e organizzative del sistema non sembrano favorire quell'incontro con l'Altro che può garantire la rielaborazione delle esperienze passate e riattribuire senso e agency alla propria vita, anche nella quotidianità. Al contrario, i richiedenti asilo sono consapevoli di ritrovarsi in una posizione di svantaggio rispetto al potere decisionale sui loro progetti di vita. Non sono coinvolti nelle scelte progettuali e non percepiscono una crescita personale nelle competenze e nelle capacità necessarie per rendersi autonomi. Tuttavia, i richiedenti asilo riconoscono negli operatori degli interlocutori diretti che svolgono un ruolo di congiunzione con la società ospitante. Nello svolgimento del proprio ruolo, gli operatori possono aprirsi ad un ascolto attivo di tutte le parti della biografia dei richiedenti asilo per costruire un rapporto di fiducia. Al fine di favorire la costruzione di tale rapporto, è importante che gli operatori nella loro pratica quotidiana mirino a riattribuire agency ai richiedenti asilo, coinvolgendoli nella progettazione individualizzata. Ciò favorirebbe la valorizzazione e l'attivazione delle risorse dei richiedenti asilo, l'instaurarsi di relazioni di fiducia che consentano la ricostruzione di significato delle proprie esperienze traumatiche di vita e la restituzione di una rappresentazione di Sé attiva e agente. In generale, si otterrebbe una maggiore adesione al progetto d'accoglienza. Inoltre, la valorizzazione della funzione relazionale degli operatori dell'accoglienza favorirebbe una maggiore qualità di vita professionale. I professionisti avrebbero così la possibilità di riconoscere e far riconoscere il proprio ruolo, che è stato profondamente messo in discussione dalla comunità e dalle politiche degli ultimi anni. Quindi, l'ascolto attivo, la riattribuzione di agency e l'esempio nella quotidianità da parte degli operatori favorirebbero il riconoscimento del loro ruolo come tutori di resilienza e promuoverebbero la definizione di traiettorie di resilienza. In questo modo si faciliterebbe il raggiungimento di uno stato di salute psicosociale nei richiedenti asilo. La legittimazione del ruolo funzionale della relazione tra i richiedenti asilo e gli operatori dell'accoglienza da parte del contesto sociale e istituzionale diventa un fattore necessario allo sviluppo di buone pratiche d'accoglienza e alla promozione di traiettorie di resilienza. 9. 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Death Instinct In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein Panca Wisetioko English Literature Faculty of Language and Arts State University of Surabaya y.panca.wise@gmail.com Drs. Much. Khoiri, M.Si. English Department Faculty of Language and Arts State University of Surabaya much_choiri@yahoo.com Abstrak Naluri dapat digambarkan sebagai kekuatan manusia dan dianggap ada di balik ketegangan yang disebabkan oleh kebutuhan dari id. Id dapat berkembang menjadi kekuatan destruktif yang disebut sebagai insting kematian dan ekspresi insting kematian disebut sebagai agresi. Dalam Mary Shelley Frankenstein, dua karakter utama menggambarkan insting kematian yang mempengaruhi pikiran dan tindakan yang bertujuan untuk menghancurkan atau membunuh siapa pun. Studi ini berfokus pada dua masalah , ( 1 ) bagaimana insting kematian digambarkan dalam Mary Shelley Frankenstein? dan ( 2 ) Mengapa si monster dan Dr Frankenstein menggambarkan agresi sebagai komponen dari insting kematian dalam hidup mereka di Mary Shelley Frankenstein? Data tesis diambil dari novel sebagai sumber utama dan membaca secara intensif adalah langkah berikutnya dalam analisis. Konsep yang akan digunakan meliputi konsep naluri dan insting kematian oleh Freud dan Susan , dan juga istilah agresi oleh Subaidah. Untuk menjawab masalah pertama, penelitian ini menggunakan istilah Freud tentang insting kematian dan didukung oleh konsep dari Susan tentang insting. Masalah kedua dijawab dengan menggunakan konsep dari Subaidah tentang agresi. Yang terakhir, analisis mengungkapkan bahwa insting kematian digambarkan oleh monster melalui tindakannya ketika membunuh putra Dr Frankenstein, teman, dan anggota keluarga yang lain. Selain itu, Dr Frankenstein juga menggambarkan insting kematian melalui intensi untuk menghancurkan si monster. Keduanya mendapatkan kesenangan dan kepuasan dari tindakan mereka. Dr Frankenstein dan monster tersebut menggambarkan insting kematian karena rasa marah dan frustrasi antara satu sama lain. Kata kunci : insting kematian, sadar, id, agresi. Abstract Instincts can be described as the forces of human and assume to exist behind the tensions which are caused by the needs of the id. The id can develop into destructive force which is called as death instinct and the expression of death instinct called as the aggression. In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, the two main characters depict the death instinct that influence their minds and actions which purpose to destroy or kill anyone. The study focuses on two problems, (1) how is death instinct depicted in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein? and (2) Why do the monster and Dr. Frankenstein represent the aggression as the component of death instinct in their life in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein? The data of thesis are taken from the novel as the main source and intensive reading is the next step of analysis. The concept that will be used includes the concepts of instinct and death instinct by Freud and Susan, and the terms of aggression by Subaidah. To answer the first problem, this study uses Freud's terms about death instinct and supported by Susan's terms about the concepts of instinct. The second problem is answered by using Subaidah's terms about the aggression. Last of all, the analysis reveals that death instinct depicted by the monster through his action in killing Dr. Frankenstein's son, friends, and his other family members. Besides, Dr. Frankenstein also represents death instinct through his intension to destroy the monster. Both of them get pleasure and satisfaction from their actions. Dr. Frankenstein and the monster represent death instinct because the feeling of anger and frustration each other. Keywords: death instinct, unconscious, id, aggression. INTRODUCTION Horror literature is focusing ondeath, theafterlife,evil, thedemonicand the principle of the thing embodied in the person. In stories, there are many gothic creatures, like witches,vam-pires,demonic, werewolves,and ghost. This genre has ancient origins which were reformulated in the 18th century asGothic horror, with publication of theCastle of Otranto(1764) byHorace Walpole. After that century, the Gothic tradition blossomed into the genre modern readers call horror literature in the 19th century. In this era, some great works and characters of horror have been adapted by some films and cinema. It shows to the world that some horror writers have given contributions. Some literary works concern with horror in genre are Mary Shelley'sFrankenstein(1818),Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, the works ofSheridan Le Fanu,Robert Louis Stevenson'sStrange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde(1886),Oscar Wilde'sThe Picture of Dorian Gray(1890), andBram Stoker'sDracula(1897). One of the most famous horror novels is Frankenstein which was written by Mary Shelley in 19th century. In that era, the novel was also being a very important work in literature contributions that had made by women acceptable. Although Mary Shelley wrote many novels, none of her another works was popular like Frankenstein, which still gains its popularity until today. (www.famousauthors.org/mary-shelley) A study of the scientific aspects of the novel is so popular and timely that the present author and others have presented or published papers on this theme (Ginn, 2003; Ketterer, 1997). The National Library of Medicine has developed a traveling exhibit examining Frankenstein's science, and a conference dedicated to this theme (Frankenstein's Science: Theories of Human Nature in the 18thand 19thCenturies) was held in Canberra, in 2003. (nlm.nih.gov/hmd/frankenstein/frankhome.html) The author of Frankenstein, Mary Shelley, is often known asMary Wollstonecraft Shelley. She was one of the famous horror writers in the world. Mary was a British woman novelist, short story writer, dramatist, essayist, biographer, travel writer, and editor of the works of her husband, Percy Bysshe Shelley who was a Romantic poet and a philosopher. And she was the daughter of the political philosopherWilliam Godwinand Mary Wollstonecraft who was famous as the writer, philosopher, and feminist. She wrote many horror novels including Lodore (1835), Faulkner (1937), Mathilde (1959), Valperga or the Life and Adventures of Castruccia, Prince of Lucca (1823), The Last Man (1826), and The Fortunes of Perkin Warbeck (1830). She also wrote a number of short stories, travelogues and other works, but Frankenstein has been the unforgettable works of her. Mary Shelley herself is best remembered by literature world as the author of Frankenstein. The story of this novel tells about an ambitious inventor named Dr. Frankenstein who forces to create a human from various body parts taken from some corpses in graves. He believes that he can create a perfect human which is stronger and smarter than any ordinary human being. He finally finishes his project in making that creature. But, the result does not alike what he expects before. The creature looks like a monster rather than a human. It makes Dr. Frankenstein rejecting and dumping him. The monster cannot accept how the doctor treats him because the doctor himself is as the creator and the father of the monster who should love him and treat him well like God who creates and loves human beings. The doctor always mocks the monster about his physical appearance condition which is very ugly, even looks like a devil. The monster is very angry with the doctor. He hates the doctor a lot and he wants to kill the doctor as a revenge. Not only the doctor, but the monster also hates human being because people treats him as bad as the doctor even though the monster has given aid to humans. The other thing that makes him hate human is because there is no one wants to be his friends. Everyone who meets him always run, hit and shout that he is a monster. He feels depressed and desperate about his life and his condition. He always asks to himself why he cannot be an acceptable person in his real life. After he got many bad things, he says that he will kill all human being, especially a man who created him and all persons that he loves. One by one, everyone who loved by Dr. Frankenstein were killed by the monster. The doctor himself also promises to kill his creature because of those accidents. Both of them have death instinct to kill each other. In the end of the story, Dr. Frankenstein dies in the way when he looks for the monster. The monster feels very satisfied with his death, after that he falls down to the sea, and no one never see him again. Death instinct which is depicted in Frankenstein and it based on the concepts of Sigmund Freud. According to Orbach (2007), his conceptualization of the death instinct behaviors reflecting self-destructive tendencies, guilt feelings, suicide, melancholia, masochism and sadism are furnished with a motivational force of their own, as well as a specific mechanism of action, that is the repetition compulsion. The death instinct drives man to the ultimate state of quiescence – death through the urge inherent in organic life to restore an earlier state of things. This novel presents death instinct that is depicted by Dr. Frankenstein and the monster as the characters of Shelley's Frankenstein. There is a stage which is being the part of the story that represents the instinct. It is shown when the monster killed Frankenstein's son (Shelley, 1994: 179). The action that has been done by the monster is the representation of the death instinct, especially the purpose of death instinct. It depends on Freud terms (1949: 6), he explained that the purpose of death instinct is to kill someone or destroy something. The another things that are shown in this novel is the reason of the characters when they want to do aggression which is being the component of death instinct (Subaidah, 2012), she also said that anger feeling becomes the one of the reasons or factors to do aggression to another person. The reason is depicted in the part of the story when the monster becomes angry and wants to kill all human and the doctor who is being his creator (Shelley, 1994: 172) Depends on Schultz (2008: 56), Freud also developed three parts of mind. He drew that the parts are the conscious, the preconscious, and the unconscious. Aside from the three levels of consciousness, Freud believed there to be three parts of personality. There are the id, the ego, and the superego. That is why this study is being the study that analysis about death instinct and its reason because there are many statements and actions that has been represented by the characters of the novel, especially about death instinct and its reason. RESEARCH METHOD To reveal the death instinct of the characters, this study applies the concept of human instinct in analyzing the problems. The concept which will be applied to discuss the matter in this study is the psychoanalysis theory especially the concept of death instinct by Sigmund Freud. The main data source of this study is Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, while the data which is used in this study is in the form of statements which are taken from the novel Frankenstein that reveals the death instinct of the characters, Dr. Frankenstein and the monster. This study will be conducted by using descriptive-qualitative method. It means that this study provides descriptive analysis without using any statistic or number in analyzing the subject matter. The concept applied to discuss the matter in this study is death instinct which is mostly described by Mary Shelley in her novel which titled is Frankenstein. Since the focus of the study becomes clearer, data classification is needed. After collecting and classifying such complete data, the study arranges it in order, so that the study is able to get good understanding about the story of the novel and the issue which is going to be analyzed. In the next step, the story is being analyzed by using theory that is Instinct theory. Here, in analyzing death instinct of human being, this study tries to elaborate dialogue, conflict, and action in the novel and applies the concept. Then, the next step is to reveal how is the death instinct of the characters, which is viewed from the theory of psychoanalysis by Sigmund Freud. Finally, this research provides a deep analysis on the death instinct of Dr. Frankenstein and the monster in Mary Shelley's Frankenstein. DEFINITION OF INSTINCT The forces which human assume to exist behind the tensions caused by the needs of the id are called instincts. It can change their aim (by displacement) and also that they can replace one another-the energy of one instinct passing over another. This also consists in the satisfaction of its innate needs. (Freud, 1949: 5) Instinct also can be described as the basic elements of the personality, the motivating forces that drive behavior and determine its direction. Freud's German term for this concept is Trieb, which is best translated as a driving force or impulse (Bettelheim, 1984). Instincts are a form of energy—transformed physiological energy—that connects the body's needs with the mind's wishes. The stimuli (hunger or thirst, for example) for instincts are internal. When a need such as hunger is aroused in the body, it generates a condition of physiological excitation or energy. The mind transforms this bodily energy into a wish. It is this wish—the mental representation of the physiological need—that is the instinct or driving force that motivates the person to behave in a way that satisfies the need. A hungry person, for example, will act to satisfy his or her need by looking for food. The instinct is not the bodily state; rather, it is the bodily need transformed into a mental state, a wish. When the body is in a state of need, the person experiences a feeling of tension or pressure. The aim of an instinct is to satisfy the need and thereby reduce the tension. Freud's theory can be called a homeostatic approach insofar as it suggests that people are motivated to restore and maintain a condition of physiological equilibrium, or balance, to keep the body free of tension. Freud believed that people always experience a certain amount of instinctual tension and that people must continually act to reduce it. It is not possible to escape the pressure of our physiological needs as we might escape some annoying stimulus in our external environment. This means that instincts are always influencing our behavior, in a cycle of need leading to reduction of need. People may take different paths to satisfy their needs. For example, the sex Drives may be satisfied by heterosexual behavior, homosexual behavior, or auto sexual behavior, or the sex drive may be channeled into some other form of activity. Freud thought that psychic energy could be displaced to substitute objects, and this displacement was of primary importance in determining an individual's personality. Although the instincts are the exclusive source of energy for human behavior, the resulting energy can be invested in a variety of activities. This helps explain the diversity people see in human behavior. All the interests, preferences, and attitudes people display as adults were believed by Freud to be displacements of energy from the original objects that satisfied the instinctual needs. Freud grouped the instincts into two categories: life instincts and death instincts. The life instincts serve the purpose of survival of the individual and the species by seeking to satisfy the needs for food, water, air, and sex. The life instincts are oriented toward growth and development. The psychic energy manifested by the life instincts is the libido. The libido can be attached to or invested in objects, a concept Freud called cathexis. If you like your roommate, for example, Freud would say that your libido is cathected to him or her. The life instinct Freud considered most important for the personality is sex, which he defined in broad terms. He did not refer solely to the erotic but included almost all pleasurable behaviors and thoughts. Freud regarded sex as our primary motivation. Erotic wishes arise from the body's erogenous zones: the mouth, anus, and sex organs. He suggested that people are predominantly pleasure-seeking beings, and much of his personality theory revolves around the necessity of inhibiting or suppressing our sexual longings. In opposition to the life instincts, Freud postulated the destructive or death instincts. Drawing from biology, he stated the obvious fact that all living things decay and die, returning to their original inanimate state, and he proposed that people have an unconscious wish to die. One component of the death instincts is the aggressive drive, described as the wish to die turned against objects other than the self. The aggressive drive compels us to destroy, conquer, and kill. Freud came to consider aggression as compelling a part of human nature as sex. Freud developed the notion of the death instincts late in life, as a reflection of his own experiences. He endured the physiological and psychological debilitations of age, his cancer worsened, and he witnessed the carnage of World War I. One of his daughters died at the age of 26, leaving two young children. All these events affected him deeply, and, as a result, death and aggression became major themes in his theory. In his later years, Freud dreaded his own death, and exhibited hostility, hatred, and aggressiveness toward colleagues and disciples who disputed his views and left his psychoanalytic circle. THE CHARACTERISTICS OF INSTINCT According to Susan (2004: 42), there are some characteristics of instincts. She summarized the four aspects of instincts: source, pressure, aim, dan object. The first is source. All physic energy is derived from biological processes in some parts or organs of the body. There is no separate, exclusively mental energy. The amount of energy a person has does not change throughout a lifetime although it is transformed so that it is invested differently. At first, psychic energy is directed toward biological needs. As development occurs, this same energy can be redirected into other investment, such as interpersonal relationships and work. The second is pressure. It refers to its force or motivational quality. It corresponds to the strength of the instinctual drive; it is high when the drive is not satisfied and falls when the needs is met. For example, a hungry infant has a high pressure of the hunger drive: one just fed has hunger at a low pressure. When the pressure is low, the instinct may nt have noticeable effect; but when the pressure is high, it may break through, interrupting other activities. A hungry baby wakes up, for example, and it depends on Susan (2004: 42). The next characteristic is aim, the function of instinct according to a principle of homeostatis, or steady state, a principle borrowed from biology. Instinct aim to preserve the ideal steady state for organism (Susan, 2004: 42). Changes moving away from this steady state are experienced as tension. The aim of all instincts is to reduce tension, which is pleasurable. Instincts operate according to what Freud called the pleasure principle, they aim simply to produce pleasure by reducing tension, immediately and without regard to reality constraints. Tension reduction occurs when the original biological instinct is directly satisfied, for example, when a hungry infant is fed or when sexually aroused adult achieves orgasm. It would be a mistake, however, to conclude that only direct biological drive satisfaction can reduce tension. Some transformations of libido also allow tension reduction (Susan, 2004: 42). Such healthy, socially acceptable ways of reducing tension are termed sublimation. However, indirect expressions of libido do not always reduce the pressure of instinct. Thus a chronic deviation from a restful, homeostatic state occurs in individuals who have not found ways to reduce tension, such as neurotics (Susan, 2004: 42). The last is object, this characteristic of instinct is about the person or thing in the world that is desired so that the instinct can be satisfied, it based on Susan's terms about instinct (2004: 42). For example, the object of the hunger drive of an infant is the mother's breast: it brings satisfaction. The object of a sexually aroused adult is a sexual partner. Investment of psychic energy in a particular object is called cathexis. It is with respect to the object of an instinct that there is the most variation, the most influence of experience on a person's fundamental motivations. Some sexually aroused men look for a woman just like mother; others look for a very different kind of woman or for a man, or even for underwear or a child or any of a vast assortment of sexual objects. Women are also very widely in their choice of sexual objects. The fact that libido is capable of being directed toward so many diverse objects; not fixed biologically, is termed the plaslicily of instinct. This is much greater in humans than in lower animals, who seem to come with instinct "prewired" to very specific objects. Learning from experience-selecting objects from the possibilities in the environment and learning to adapt to reality-occurs in the ego. The ego, in contrast, the functions according to a very primitive mechanism, called primary process. DEATH INSTINCT (THANATOS) Freud believed that every human had a life and death instinct. The life instinct is callederoswhile death instinct is calledthanatos. Death instinct is a destructive force directing us inevitably toward death, the ultimate release from the tension of living. It motivates all kind of aggression including war and suicide. (Susan, 2004: 41) According to Orbach (2007: 266), Freud's conceptualization of the death instinct behavior reflecting self-destructive tendencies, guilt feelings, suicide, melancholia, mascochism and sadism are furnished with a motivational force of their own, as well as with a specific mechanism of action, that is the repetition compulsion. Death instinct drives man to the ultimate state of quiescence – death through the urge inherent organic life to restore an earlier state of things. The purpose of death instinct is to destroy things and to reduce living things to an inorganic state. (Freud, 1949: 5) Freud also explains that death instinct is intended to individuals typically two ways, to himself or others to outside themselves. Death instinct is redirected looking at people in an action of suicide, while the instinct redirected to death outside or anyone else to do something when they want to kill, persecute, or destroy others. Death instinct also encourages people to ruin people, and the aggressive drive pushes the distribution of people who are not killed. To maintain them, death instinct will against life with generally energy which steer out, intended to others. Freud assumes that every human in their subconscious part, will have a passion for dead, a desire is always mightily repressed by ego. The component of the death instincts is aggression. (http://12013pus.blogspot.com/2013/06/sigmund-freud.html) The most influenced component of the death instincts is the aggressive drive. It is described as a wish to against objects rather than a self. The aggressive drive compels us to destroy, conquer and kill. Freud comes to consider aggression as compelling a part of human nature. Freud also recognizes that the object of the aggressive instinct is fighting, and it is always for the gratification of the id. Most aggressive behavioral traits are destructive. They are considered to be the consequence of dysfunctional character formation. However, some of these instinctual traits may be momentary. Freud suggests that the aggressivity is related to death threat. This means that it can apply to the individual as well as to his or her relation with others. According to Subaidah (2012), aggression is a behavior that can hurt others. There are several factors that influence the aggression. Each factors may differed from one's act of aggression in which it is more dependent on an act of aggression itself and where the act of aggression took place. Lately a lot of aggression is going on in the social sphere such as at school and other social spheres. She explains that there are several factors that cause aggression or aggressiveness: 1. Biological factors There are several biological factors that influence aggressive behavior: a. The gene seems to affect the formation of the neural systems that regulate the aggressive behavior. b. Brain systems which are not involved in aggression were found to reinforce or inhibit the neural circuits that control the aggression. c. Blood chemistry (particularly the sex hormones which is partly determined heredity) can also influence aggressive behavior. 2. The Instinct According to Sigmund Freud, he explains that in humans there are two kinds of instincts which are called as eros (life instinct) and thanatos (death instinct). Aggression is an expression of the death instinct and it may be directed to other people or other targets (external) and can also to themselves (internal). 3. The Anger feeling Anger is the emotion that has the characteristics of the parasympathetic nervous system activity which is high. It is the feeling of strong dislike feeling commonly conducted due to an error, which may be manifestly wrong or maybe not. At the moment, there is a desire to attack which includes by angry, punching, destroy or throw something, it usually arises cruel mind. When things are distributed and there is aggressive behavior. 4. Frustration feeling Frustration occurs when someone blocked by something in achieving a goal, needs, desires, expectations or specific actions. Aggression is the way to respond the frustration feeling. Poor time naughty teen is a result of frustration which is related to the amount of unemployed time, financial mediocre and the requirements that must be fulfilled but difficult to achieve. As a result, they become irritable and aggressive. (jambeekidul.blogspot.com/2012/05/agresi.html) The Death Instinct depicted by Dr. Frankenstein and The Monster in Mary's Frankenstein In the novel, death instinct depicted is firstly depicted by Dr. Frankenstein when he meets the monster in the field of ice. When he enjoys the atmosphere of the nature around him, suddenly he sees the figure of man and the creature comes nearly to him with super human speed. He really surprised when he sees the creature that stands in front of him. The creature is the monster that was made by him, but the doctor never wants to see the monster because it looks so ugly and scary. So the doctor wants to kill that monster by himself. The next part which depicts the death instinct is shown by the monster. It happens when the doctor sees something like a human but it looks different from the ordinary human. The creature comes nearly to him, and the doctor is surprised because the creature is the person who is seemed like a monster. The doctor said many bad words to him, but there is the time when the monster wants to make a deal with Frankenstein. The monster is being the unacceptable person in the real life, there is no one can accept his condition. The monster wants to ask about something which is related to his condition but he says that if the doctor refuses his request, the monster will kill him. The next quote is shown by Dr. Frankenstein and his creature. After the monster asked something with the doctor and want to make a deal with the doctor, Frankenstein who is being the creator of the monster answered the kind of thing that has been asked by the monster. Death instinct is depicted in the some words. In those words, the doctor want to take the monster's life or in another meaning, it means that the doctor want to kill the monster. It depends on Freud terms about death instinct, he explains that the purpose of death instinct is to kill someone. The next part which shows death instinct in the novel, there is no deal between Dr. Frankenstein and the monster. The doctor feels very angry and hates the monster because the condition of the monster itself. After that, the doctor does the action that is shown in the quotation as the part of the story. In some parts of the statements, the doctor wants to attack the monster by himself. It shows that Frankenstein want to expressing his feeling that represent the purpose of death instinct. It is like Freud terms, he explains that the purpose of the death instinct of human being is to destroy or kill another creature. The next statement is said by Dr. Frankenstein, it happens when the doctor tries to hit the monster. But the monster can dodge the action of the doctor. The monster still wants to make a deal with the doctor. The monster tells about his sadness feeling to the doctor. But the words that were said by the monster cannot make the doctor's heart follow what the monster wants. In the time of the novel, the doctor feels angry and says many words to the monster. There are some words which depicts the death instinct of the doctor and describe that Frankenstein want to fight with the monster and kills him. The next statement is said by the monster, he continuous his journey, and after that he arrives at Geneva. Directly, he looks for the hiding place. Then he takes a rest, and suddenly the little boy comes to him. He thinks that this boy does not have a negative thought like the other people. But he is wrong, this boy looks so scared, he tries to talk with the boy. Suddenly, the boy says many bad words to him, and he tells Frankenstein as a name of the person that the monster really hates. Finally, the monster wants to kill this boy, it is depicted in the some words. He describes the death instinct and his actions that he will do in this part of the statement. Based on Freud (1949: 6), the purpose of death instinct is to kill or destroy something. The Reason of the Characters Who Represent the Aggression In this Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, there are many aggressions that are depicted in the some parts or in the some statement that were said by the characters, and there are many things that are being the reason of the character to do their aggression to another. Dr. Frankenstein and the monster show the causes or the factors of aggression based on their actions and quotations. The factors will be explained in these parts of thesis based on Subaidah's terms of aggression (2012). Aggression is firstly shown by Dr. Frankenstein when he sees a person in the ice field. When he really enjoys the natural situation around him, suddenly he finds the figure of human and the creature comes nearly to him with super human speed. He really surprised when he sees the creature which stands in front of him. The creature is the monster that was made by him, but the doctor never wants to see the monster because it looks so ugly and scary. In some statement, there is a factor that will be explained. There are some words which show the anger feeling of the doctor as the main factor which influences him and it is the reason of him to do the aggression to the monster. The next statement is continuing the conversation before that happened between Dr. Frankenstein and his creature. After the monster asked something with the doctor and want to make a deal with the doctor, Frankenstein who is being the creator of the monster answered the kind of thing that has been asked by the monster. He said some words to answer what the monster want. Those words describe the anger feeling of the doctor and also show that the doctor really does not like the monster because the psychical condition of the monster. It is to be his reason to do the aggression to the monster. This explanation similar with Subaidah's terms, she explains that the anger is one of the factors that can influence a person to do aggression to another person, and the thing that can cause the anger is because the feeling of dislike so strong. The next part of the story in the novel, there is no deal between Dr. Frankenstein and the monster. The doctor feels very angry and hates the monster because the condition of the monster itself. After that, the doctor does the action that is shown in the quotation as the part of the story. There are some words which show the reason of the doctor when he wants to destroy the monster. The doctor describes his feeling which influences him to be aggressive clearly in this part of his statement. These feeling can influence someone to be an aggressive person, it means that the person wants to kill or destroy the other person. This is has similarity with Subaidah's term, she explains that the reason of the person to do aggression is because their angry feeling. The next statement is said by the monster. It is continuing from the statements before. After the doctor asked him to go, the monster is still trying to tell about the experiences that he got in his life. He tells many things to the doctor, he hopes the doctor will agree to make a deal with him. And in the situation that is described in the novel, the monster says something about his feelings to the doctor. He says the words to Dr. Frankenstein. There are some words that show the anger feeling of the monster. The words describe the reason of him when he wants to do the aggression to his enemies and he really wants to destroy them. Based on Subaidah (2012), anger is the factor for the people to do aggression to another, and the dislike feeling because of the mistaken things that has been done by a person will influence a person angry with the another people. There are also some words which show the mistakes of the doctor and the human that cause the anger of the monster. Dr. Frankenstein has done something that make the monster feel dislike and angry with him, this is also done by the other person. The next statement is still based on the story of the monster. After he went to forest, he lived in a place. He felt desperate because of human actions. He remembered the accident that he got from De Lacey family, especially from Felix. He felt so angry, he wanted to destroy everything near him. There are some words which represent the anger feeling of the monster, it is described clearly in the part of the statement. It becomes his main feeling when he thinks to destroy something or injury the human and it also shows the factor that influences him when he cannot control himself and change into an aggressive person. The anger feeling is the dominant feeling that becomes the reason for him to do aggression to human being. This is similar with Subaidah's terms which describes the aggression can be done by a person because the anger feeling that were caused by the mistake of the another person, it can grow up the dislike feeling of the person. CONCLUSION Based on the analysis in the previous chapter, there are two important conclusions drawn: the death instinct and the aggression which is being the component of death instinct based on the characters. First, it represents death instinct which is shown by Dr. Frankenstein and the monster who is his creature. Death instinct has some steps which include unconscious and id, it also has a purpose to destroy something or kill someone. By those steps and the purposes of death instinct, it can be concluded that the doctor has death instinct when he wants to kill or destroy the monster, and the monster wants to kill the doctor and all people who gave him many bad experiences in his life, such as when he killed Frankenstein's son. They show death instinct by killing or destroy something based on their main feelings and instinct itself. The unconscious is being the important part of instinct because it drives and controls all human mind and action that they want to do to another people. The next step that becomes the part of unconscious is the id of the characters. They will do something that will give them a pleasure or satisfied feeling, it based on their id. These part will develop to death instinct when they have some wishes to destroy anything or kill anyone. It is shown when the monster killed the doctor's wife, some his families member, and his friends, it is also depicted when the doctor really wants to take the monster life by himself because he killed many person that he really loves. The other things which are depicted in those parts are the characteristics of instinct. it includes the pressure, the aim, and the object of instinct. The pressure is described as the motivational things which influence person to do something to get pleasure. It is shown by the monster when he wants to kill all human because his revenge feeling, and the doctor when he wants to fight with the monster because his rage feeling. The second characteristic is the aim of instinct which describe as the actions or wishes that will be done by the person to get pleasure in their life. It is depicted in the characters when the doctor wants to take the monster life with his own hands, and when the monster wants to kill the doctor because he created him with the bad physical condition which make the monster as the unacceptable person in his social life. The last characteristics which is shown by the characters is the object of instinct, it means that the person who do the actions based on their instinct, will get the satisfied feeling from the object of instinct itself. It is shown when the doctor wants to destroy the monster's head, the monster is being the object of instinct that can give a satisfied for the doctor when Frankenstein really can kill the monster by himself. And it is also shown when the monster killed Elizabeth who is being the doctor's wife. She is being the object of instinct that will give the satisfied feeling for the monster when he can kill her by his hands. Besides finding how death instinct is done by the characters, this study also find the reasons why aggression is done by them. Based on aggression terms, there are some factors that influence people to do aggression. They includes the biological factor, instinct, anger and frustration feeling. Those factors are shown by the characters, such as Dr. Frankenstein and the monster. It is described when the doctor hunts the monster, he wants kill the monster because he is very angry, it related to the accidents that has been done by the monster to his friends and families in the novel. It is also shown by the monster, when he destroyed many inanimate things such as tress around him, he feels frustration because he cannot injure a human. These feelings become the reason for them to do aggression to another person or thing. REFERENCES Abrams, M.H. 1999. A Glossary of Literary Terms. Seventh Editio. U.S.A : Thomson Learning, inc. Cloninger, Susan. 2004. Theory of Personality : Understanding Person. Fourth Edition. : Pearson Prentice Hall. Feist, Jess and Gregory J. Feist. 2008. Theories of Personality, Seventh Edition. New York: McGraw – Hill Co. Klein, Melanie. 1988. Development In Theory and Practice Volume 1. New York: Taylor & Francis e-Library. Orbach, Israel. 2007. Isr J Psychiatry Relat Sci Vol 44 No. 4. Israel : Bar-Ilan University. Rickman, Richard M. 2008. Theories of Personality Ninth Edition. Belmont: Thomson Higher Education. Rivers, William H.R. 1920. Instinct and The Unconscious A Contribution to A Biological Theory of The Psychoneuroses. Ontario: Christopher D. Green. Schultz, Duane P and Sydney Ellen Schultz. 2009, 2005. Theories of Personality Ninth Edition. Belmont: Wadsworth, Cengage Learning (http://www.phobosdeimos.com/History/Frankenstein/Frankenstein%20History.htm. Retrieved on June, 20th 2013) (http://12013pus.blogspot.com/ 2013/ 06/ sigmund-freud.html. 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Article by Morris Arnold on the Arkansas Legal System during the Colonial Period. ; THE ARKANSAS COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM, 1686-1766 Morris S. Arnold* Except for the silence of its final letter, there is nowadays nothing very French about Arkansas. Yet before the American takeover in 1804 the great majority of the European inhabitants of the area presently occupied by the state were of French origin. There is s9me visible proof of this in the names, many now mangled beyond e:asy recognition, which eighteenth-century voyageurs and coureurs de bois gave to a good many Arkansas places and streams; 1 and there are, as well, a number of Arkansas townships which bear the names of their early French habitants .2 While these faint traces of a remote European past survive, absolutely nothing remains of the laws and customs which the ancient residents of Arkansas observed. This is no accident. It was a favorite object of Jefferson to introduce the common law of England into the vast Louisiana Territory as quickly as he could. In the lower territory he waited too late. New Orleans had had a large French population and a somewhat professionalized legal system for some time, and the civilian opposition, given time to congeal, proved to * Ben J. Altheimer Distinguished Professor of Law, University of Arkansas at Little Rock. B.S.E.E. 1965, LL.B. 1968, University of Arkansas; LL.M. 1969, S.J.D. 1971, Harvard Law School. This article is the first chapter of Professor Arnold's book, UNEQUAL LAWS UNTO A SAVAGE RACE: EUROPEAN LEGAL TRADITIONS IN ARKANSAS, 1686-1836, which will be published later this year. l. See generally Branner, Some Old French Place Names in the State of Arkansas, 19 ARK. HIST. Q. 191 (1960). The etymology of some of these names is difficult and interesting. Who would guess very quickly, for instance, that Smackover in Union County is Chemin Couvert (covered road) in disguise? Id. at 206. Tchemanihaut Creek (pronounced 'Shamanahaw") in Ashley County is a good deal easier: Chemin a haut (high road) must have been its original name. Its initial letter, one local historian has plausibly suggested, is probably attributable to "a misguided attempt to derive the name from the Indian language." Y. ETHERIDGE, HISTORY OF ASHLEY COUNTY, ARKANSAS 17, 18 (1959). Other names should on sight be instantly intelligible to a modern Parisian, though their current pronunciation might cause him consternation: Examples are the Terre Rouge (red earth) and Terre Noire (black earth) Creeks in Clark County, the L 'Angui!le (eel) River in northeast Arkansas, and La Grue (crane) township in Arkansas county. 2. Vaugine and Bogy Townships in Jefferson County, Darysaw (Desruisseaux) Township in Grant County, and Fourche La Fave (Lefevre) Township in Perry County are good examples. 391 392 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 have sufficient muscle to win a partial victory.3 As a result, as to substantive civil matters the state of Louisiana is today a thoroughly civilian jurisdiction. In the upper territory, however, by a piecemeal process beginning in 1804, the English common law was insinuated into the legal system, until, in 1816, it was at last adopted virtually wholesale by the General Assembly of the Missouri Territory.4 The purpose of this article is to explain why civilian legal institutions proved so weak in Upper Louisiana and especially in Arkansas. It turns out that the smallness and character of the European population in Arkansas was the main cause for the vulnerability of European legal norms there. The reception of the common law in Arkansas was simply one element in a more general exchange of cultures which occurred following the Louisiana Purchase. I At ten o'clock on the morning of March 12, 1682, Robert Cavalier, sieur de la Salle, having been commissioned four years earlier by Louis XIV of France to explore and take possession of the Mississippi and its tributaries, drew near the Quapaw Village of Kappa. The village was located on the right bank of the Mississippi River about twenty miles north of the mouth of the Arkansas. From the war chants emanating from the Indian town, La Salle judged that he was in for a hostile reception; so he hastily constructed a "fort" on an island opposite the village and awaited developments. Soon, however, the Quapaw chief sent the calumet of peace, and La Salle and his men went to Kappa where they were received with every possible demonstration of affection both public and private. Asked by the Quapaws for help against their enemies, La Salle promised that they could thenceforth look for protection to the greatest prince of the world, in whose behalf he had come to them and to all the other nations who lived along and around the river. In return, La Salle said, the Quapaws had to consent expressly to the erection in their village of a column on which His Majesty's arms were to be painted, symbolizing their recognition that he was the master of their lands. The Indians agreed and Henry de Tonti, La Salle's lieutenant 3. See generally G. DARGO, JEFFERSON'S LOUISIANA: POLITICS AND THE CLASH OF LEGAL TRADITIONS (1975). 4. 1 LAWS OF A PUBLIC AND GENERAL NATURE, OF THE DISTRICT OF LOUISIANA, OF THE TERRITORY OF LOUISIANA, OF THE TERRITORY OF MISSOURI, AND OF THE STATE OF MISSOURI, UP TO THE YEAR 1824, ch. 154 (1842). 1983) COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 393 and commandant of one of the two brigades in the company, immediately caused the column to be fashioned. On it was painted a cross and the arms of France, and it bore these words: Louis the Great, King of France and of Navarre, rules. 13th of March, 1682. Tonti then conducted the column with all the French men-at-arms to the plaza of the village, and, La Salle taking up a position at the head of his brigade and Tonti at the head of his, the Reverend Father Zeno be Membre sang the hymn 0 crux, ave, spes unica. The company then went three times around the plaza, each time singing the psalm Exaudiat te Dominus and shouting vive le roy to the discharge of their muskets. They then planted the column while repeating the cries of vive le roy, and La Salle, standing near the column and holding the king's commission in his hand, spoke in a loud voice the following words in French: On behalf of the very high, very invincible, and victorious prince Louis the Great, by the grace of God, King of France and of Navarre, the fourteenth of this name, today, the 13th of March, 1682, with the consent of the nation of the Arkansas assembled at the village of Kappa and present at this place, in the name of the king and his allies, I, by virtue of the commission of His Majesty of which I am bearer and which I hold presently in my hand . , have taken possession in the name of His ffi.ajesty, his heirs, and the successors to his crown, of the country of Louisiana and of all the nations, mines, minerals, ports, harbors, seas, straits, and roadsteads, and of everything contained within the same . . . . After more musket-firing and the giving of presents the Indians celebrated their new alliance throughout the night, pressing their hands to the column and then rubbing their bodies in testimony to the joy which they felt in having made so advantageous a connection. Thus did France gain sovereignty over and ownership of Arkansas. The reason that we know all these details and more about La Salle's activities in Arkansas is that he had requested, and received, from Jacques de la Metairie, the notary who was in his company, a lengthy proces-verbal describing the events at Kappa and officially attesting their occurrence.5 This was Arkansas's first exposure to civilian legal processes. It would be almost 150 years before the influence of the civil law ceased to make itself felt there. 5. 2 P. MARGRY, DECOUVERTES ET ETABLISSEMENT DES FRAN<;:AIS DANS L'0UEST ET DANS LE SUD DE L'AMERIQUE SEPTENTRIONALE, 1614-1754 (1881). 394 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 II Arkansas Post was the first European establishment in the lower Mississippi valley. It was first located about twenty-seven miles by river from the mouth of the Arkansas on the edge of Little Prairie at what is now called the Menard Site. (See Figure 2). Settled in 1686 by six tenants of Henry de Tonti to whom La Salle in 1682 had granted the lower Arkansas as a seignory, 6 it was to serve as an Indian trading post and as an intermediate station between the Illinois country and the Gulf of Mexico.7 Tonti's plans for the place had been large indeed. In 1689 he promised the Jesuits to build a house and chapel at the Arkansas and to grant a resident priest a sizeable amount of land; while there, Tonti confidently asserted, the priest could "come and say mass in the French quarter near our fort."8 No priest in fact established himself during Tonti's ownership of the Arkansas and his French quarter and fort never materialized. When in an undated grant of land to Jacques Cardinal, one of his men at the Post, Tonti styled himself seigneur de ville de Tonti (lord of the town of Tonti),9 he was in the grips of an excessive enthusiasm. There is no evidence that the European population of the place ever exceeded six. In fact, when Joutel arrived there in 1687 there were only two Frenchmen remaining in residence; 10 and the single log house he descpbed is apparently the only structure ever erected at Tonti's Post. Joutel remarked of Tonti's two traders that "if I was joyous to find them, they participated in the joy since we left them the wherewithal to maintain themselves for some time." Indeed, he said, "they were almost as much in need of our help as we of theirs." He ridiculed the whole idea of a post at that location. "The said house," Joutel noted sarcastically, "was to serve as an 6. See Faye, The Arkansas Post ef Louisiana: French Domination, ;26 LA. HIST. Q. 633, 635-36 ( 1943). 7. Such was the view of Father Douay, a Jesuit who described Tonti's post in 1687. See M. THOMAS, THE ARKANSAS POST OF LOUISIANA, 1682-1783 (M.A. Thesis, University of California, 1948). 8. Tonti's grant to the Jesuits is quoted in 1 M. GIRAUD, A HISTORY OF FRENCH LOUISIANA 8 (J. Lambert trans., 1974). 9. The grant is translated in THE FRENCH FOUNDATIONS 396 (T. Pease & R. Werner eds., 1934). 10. Faye, supra note 6, at 735. 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM Henry de Tonti, lieutenant of La Salle. He founded Arkansas Post in 1686 and in the late seventeenth century styled himself seigneur de ville de Tonti. He was the first European to possess judicial authority in Arkansas. (Courtesy of the Museum of the History of Mobile). 395 396 UALR LAW JOURNAL · [Vol. 6:391 entrepot [way-station] for the French who travelled in these parts, but we were the only ones whom it so served." 11 Short of supplies and virtually inaccessible, the tiny outpost never prospered. The war with the Iroquois closed the route to Canada and made trade to and from Arkansas impossible much of the time until 1693.12 By 1696, Jean Couture, Tonti's lieutenant and commandant at the Post, had deserted to the English, 13 and in 1699 Jesuit missionaries to the Quapaws found no trace of a French settlement. 14 By then the French had evidently abandoned the Arkansas, though there may have remained behind a "few white savages thereabouts as wild as red savages." 15 However grandiose and ambitious had been the schemes of Tonti, they would soon come to seem tame. In 1717 the Mercure de France, a Paris newspaper, began advertising the riches of Louisiana to its readers: Gold and silver could be mined there "with almost no labor." The mountains situated on the Arkansas River would be explored, and there, one correspondent exuded, "we shall gather, believe me, specimens from silver mines, since others already have gathered such there without trouble." When Cadillac sensibly protested that "the mines of the Arkansas were a dream" he was promptly committed to the Bastille "on suspicion of having spoken with scant propriety against the Government of France."16 The man behind the propaganda campaign was John Law, a Scot, who owned a bank in Paris and who had in 1717 succeeded in securing for his Compagnie d'Occident a monopoly on Louisiana trade. Law's company recruited thousands of colonists to settle in Louisiana and the king granted it authority to grant land from the 11. Joutel Remarques sur /'Ouvrage de Tonti Re/at(( a la Louisiane ( 1703), Archives Service Hydrographique (Paris), vol. 115-9, no. 12 (Typescript in Little Rock Public Library). The translation in the text is mine. 12. Faye, supra note 6, at 638. 13. IBERVILLE'S GULF JouRNALS 144 at n.98 (R. McWilliams ed. 1950). 14. 18 COLLECTIONS OF THE WISCONSIN HISTORICAL SOCIETY 427, at n.37 (1908). 15. Faye, supra note 6, at 646. See also I M. GIRAUD, supra note 8, at 8: "When d'Iberville reached the Mississippi [i.e., in 1699] the post had been abandoned." Some writers are reluctant to say that the Arkansas was completely devoid of Europeans at this time. See, e.g., P. HOLDER, ARCHAEOLOGICAL FIELD RESEARCH ON THE PROBLEM OF THE LOCATIONS OF ARKANSAS POST ARKANSAS 4 (1957): "The French occupation of the general area along the lower courses of the Arkansas and White Rivers was virtually continuous from the 1680's onward." The truth is that the sources simply fail to mention any Europeans in Arkansas, except Jesuit missionaries, between 1699 and 1721. It is, however, hard to resist believing that a few hunters and trappers ventured from time to time into the area and established temporary camps there. Almost certainly no real settlement existed however. 16. Faye, supra note 6, at 653. 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 397 Royal domain. Proprietors of the company's land grants (concessionaires) were given considerable latitude in choosing the spots for their settlements, since the interior of Louisiana was not well known; and they therefore exercised much discretion in locating their colonists on arrival. 17 However, the company early on had recognized the Arkansas River as an important spot, since it was thought that it might well be the best route to the Spanish mines of Mexico. Thus the company specifically directed where the Arkansas concession should be located and ordered that it be the first occupied. 18 It granted this concession to Law himself. In August of 1721, a group of Law's French engages (perhaps as many as eighty) took possession of land on Little Prairie at or near the site of Tonti's abandoned trading post. 19 (See Figure 2). Although Law was by then bankrupt and had fled France, the news did not reach Louisiana until after Jacques Levens, Law's director in Louisiana, had caused the Arkansas colony to be established under the command of some of his subordinates.20 By December of that year Bertrand Dufresne, sieur du Demaine, replaced Levens as director for Arkansas, and in March of 1722 he took possession of the concession and began an inventory of its effects and papers.21 On his arrival he found only twenty cabins and three arpents (about 2.5 acres) of cleared ground. He reported a total of about fifty men and women resident,22 tristes debris, Father Charlevoix called them,23 of Mr. Law's concession. They had produced only an insignificant harvest. Lieutenant la Boulaye was nearby with a military detachment of seventeen men.24 (See Figure 1). Despite the existence of a company store at the Arkansas concession, both the colony and the military establishment were in considerable difficulty.25 Dufresne therefore immediately released twenty of the engages from service and gave them lots to cultivate in the hopes that a better harvest of corn and wheat would be realized in 1722. In February of the following year there were only forty-one colonists remaining, divided now into two small farming communi- 17. 4 M. GIRAUD, H!STOJRE DE LA LOUISIANE FRANc_;;AISE 198 (1974). 18. Id. 19. Id. 20. Id. at 199. 21. Id. at 271. 22. Id. at 272. 23. 6 P. CHARLEVOIX, JOURNAL D'UN VOYAGE FAIT PAR ORDRE DU Roi DANS L'AMERIQUE SEPTENTRIONNALE 164 (1744). 24. 4 M. GIRAUD, supra note 17, at 273. 25. The following paragraph is based on Id. at 273-74. 398 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 ties: Fourteen men and one woman at Law's concession under Dufresne, and sixteen men, some with families, two leagues down the river with the troops. Among this latter group there lived six black slaves. 26 Benard la Harpe, while exploring the river in 1721, had predicted, or at least hoped for, a turn in the fortunes of the struggling colony, but that hope proved false and in 1727 Father Paul du Poisson, the Jesuit missionary to the Arkansas, reported that only about thirty Frenchmen remained behind.27 The military post had been abandoned two years previous. 28 Village des Arcan~as ---N Poste francais commande par le S. la Boulaie 0 - - - -, ·: ·Concession de M. Law I I L. --- ' MISSISSIPPI Figure 1 Sketch of the location of Law's colony by Dumont de Montigny,Archives Nationales, Paris, 6 JJ-75, Piece 254. All this seemed worth recounting in some detail because for generations historians of Arkansas have believed that a colony of Germans once occupied their river. Law did recruit many Germans for settlement in Louisiana, and they were destined for the Arkansas, but as soon as the news of Law's bankruptcy reached the colony 26. Recensement General des Habitans Estab!ys,,.SoteJouy Arkansas et d~s Ouvrier~ ~e la Concession cy devant Apartenant a M. Law, 18 February, 1723. (Transcnpt at Lomsiana History Center, Louisiana State Museum, New Orleans). 27. Du Poisson to Father___, translated in Falconer, Arkansas and the Jesuits in 1727-A Translation, 4 PUBLICATIONS OF THE ARKANSAS HISTORICAL ASSOCIATION 352, at 375 (1917). 28. Faye, supra note 6, at 670. 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 399 in June of 1721, the Compagnie des Indies took over the direction of his concession;29 and when the time arrived to transport the German immigrants to Arkansas, the company, in an economy move, decided instead to send them to Delaire's grant in Lower Louisiana.30 In short, none of Law's Germans ever reached Arkansas. This is a pity, as the prospect of discussing, or at least imagining, a group of German immigrants living under French law on the Arkansas River was an intriguing one--one of which the facts have now unfortu-nately deprived us. · III Before 1712, the colony of Louisiana, with a population of only a few hundred, had been entirely under military rule and regular civil regulation was altogether lacking. On September 19, 1712, the Crown granted a trade monopoly to Antoine Crozat but he was given no governmental authority: As Henry Dart noted, the charter was "only an operating contract with the duties of government retained in the Crown."31 However, the charter did adopt as law for the colony "nos Edits, Ordonnances Et Coutumes Et !es usages de la Prevoste Et Vitf/omte de Paris--our edicts, ordinances, and customs, and the usages of the Provostry and Viscounty of Paris."32 The Coutume, despite its name, was actually a small code of some 362 titles first reduced to writing in 1510,33 and treating both substantive and adjective law. It was itself terse, indeed epigrammatic; but the commentary on it by the time of its adoption in Louisiana was voluminous. 34 Annotated versions of the Coutume were therefore very popular in France and in time they found their way to Louisiana.35 Also in 1712, by a separate instrument, a new and important institution was created for the colony, the Superior Council of Louisiana. 36 Modelled on the governmental arrangements already in 29. 4 M. GIRAUD, supra note 17, at 216. 30. Id. at 248. 31. Dart, The Legal Institutions of Louisiana, 3 SOUTHERN LAW Q. 247 (1918). This article also appears in 2 LA. HIST. Q. 72 (1919). 32. The charter is printed in 4 PUBLICATIONS LA. HIST. Soc. 13, at 17 (1909). 33. For a precis of its provisions, title by title, see Schmidt, History ef the Jurisprudence of Louisiana, l LA. L. J., no. l, l (1841). 34. The most useful eighteenth-century commentary is C. FERRIERE, CoMMENTAIRE SUR LA CouTUME DE LA PREVOTE ET VICOMTE DE p ARIS. It is available in several editions. 35. Dart, The Law Library ef a Louisiana Lawyer in the 18th Century, 25 REPORTS OF THE LOUISIANA BAR ASSOCIATION 12, at 22 et seq. (1924). 36. See Dart, supra note 31, at 249 et seq. See also, for some discussion of the work of this body, Hardy, The Superior Council in Colonial Louisiana, in FRENCHMEN AND FRENCH 400 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 place in other French colonies, the Council had original and exclusive jurisdiction to decide disputes arising anywhere in Louisiana. It consisted of the Lieutenant General of New France; the Intendant of the same; the Governor of Louisiana; a first councilor of the king; two other councilors; the attorney general; and a clerk. Judgments in civil cases required the concurrence of at least three members and in criminal cases at least five. The Council was originally created to exist for three years, but on September 7, 1716, it became by virtue of a Royal Edict a permanent institution.37 In 1717 a fundamental change occurred in the government of Louisiana. In that year Crozat, having lost an enormous sum under his operating charter, surrendered it, and John Law's Compagnie d'Occident was given a monopoly over trade in the colony. In addition, unlike Crozat's company, the Compagnie d'Occident was granted extensive governmental authority: It had the power to appoint the Superior Council, to name governors and military commandants, and to appoint and remove all judges. The charter also provided that "Seront tous !es juges Etbalis en tous !es d. Lieux tenus de juger suivant !es Loix Et ordonnances du Royaume Et se Con-former a la Coutume de la prevoste Et Vicomte de Paris. . . ."; that is, that "all the judges established in all the said places shall be bound to judge according to the laws and ordinances of the realm, and [shall also be bound] to conform to the customs of the Prevostry and Viscounty of Paris."38 This portion of the charter obviously provided for the reception of general French legislation and the Custom of Paris. In addition, it has been shown that subsequent French legislation, as soon as it was registered in the colony, and the legislation of the Superior Council itself, formed part of the body of colonial Louisiana law.39 The subsequent French legislation was of three distinct sorts: (a) general legislation; (b) special colonial legislation; ( c) colonial legislation passed specifically for Louisiana. 40 Two years later we hear for the first time about inferior courts for outlying portions of the colony. On September 12, 1719, the king noted the need to appoint persons to act as judges "to facilitate w A YS IN THE MISSISSIPPI v ALLEY 87 (J. McDemott ed., 1969); Micelle, From Law Court to Local Government: Metamorphosis of the Superior Council of French Louisiana, 9 LA. HIST. 85 (1968). 37. The edict is printed in 4 PUBLICATIONS LA. HIST. Soc. 21-23 (19CS). 38. Id. at 48. 39. Baade, Marriage Contracts in French and Spanish Louisiana: A Study in "Notarial" Jurisprudence, 53 TUL. L. REV. 3, 9 (1978). 40. Id. 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 401 the administration of justice in places distant from the place where the Superior Council holds it sessions."41 The "heads or directors" of concessions along with "other of our subjects, capable and of probity" were to "exercise both civil and criminal justice." The edict went on to provide that, even in these inferior courts, "three judges shall sit in civil matters and in criminal matters five judges . " The plan, evidently, was to have a kind of provincial council at each settlement. The king further provided that an appeal from these local tribunals would lie in all cases to the Superior Council.42 All this was being done, of course, to make ready the way for Law's colonizing schemes. In 1720 or 1721 Louisiana was for the first time divided into districts (or counties). Arkansas was one of the nine districts originally created, and a local commandant and a judge was assigned to each "to put justice with greater ease in reach of the colonists."43 Presumably, and understandably, the plan to establish local councils outside New Orleans was abandoned at this time. The sources simply fail us on the question of whether more than one person was expected to sit on local courts, but it could not have proved workable in remote places like Arkansas to assemble a multi-member judicial body. In May of 1722 the Regent issued an order creating a provincial council for Illinois, the jurisdiction of which supposedly extended from "all places on and above and Arkansas River . . . to the boundaries of the Wabash River." The commandant of the Illinois, Lieutenant de Boisbriant, was to serve as "chief and judge" of this so-called council, which in fact had only one other member.44 It thus seems to have been the plan to abolish the Arkansas district and annex its territory to its nearest northern neighbor; and the Illinois provincial council was directed "to hold its sessions at the places where the principal factories of the company shall be estab- 41. The edict is printed in 4 PUBLICATIONS LA. HIST. Soc. 63 (1908). 42. The translation in the text is mine. The entire edict is translated and discussed in Dart, supra note 31, at 261 et seq. Further discussion of this edict can be found in Dart, The Colonial Legal Systems of Arkansas, Louisiana, and Texas, 27 REPORTS OF THE LOUISIANA BAR ASSOCIATION 43 at 52 (1926). 43. Id. at 267. The other districts were New Orleans, Biloxi, Mobile, Alibamous, Natchez, Yazoo, N atchitotches, and the Illinois. 44. Translated extracts from this order appear in 2 J. WHITE, A NEW COLLECTION OF LAWS, CHARTERS, AND LOCAL ORDINANCES OF THE GOVERNMENTS OF GREAT BRITAIN, FRANCE, AND SPAIN, RELATING TO THE CONCESSION OF LAND IN THEIR RESPECTIVE COLONIES . 439-40 (1837). 402 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 lished."45 This language could have been construed to require the Illinois council to sit at the Arkansas. It is, however, very much to be doubted that such a session was ever held, and certainly it is not believeable that anyone would repair from Arkansas to Illinois to settle a grievance in 1722. It seems probable, then, that whatever judicial functions were exercised at the Arkansas were entrusted to its resident directors even after the supposed creation of the council of the Illinois. The only resident director that the Arkansas ever had was, as we saw, Bertrand Dufresne, sieur du Demaine, who arrived at the Post March 22, 1722, and he was evidently the judge from that point on. Prior to that, Jacques Levens had been director, but as he never took up residence in Arkansas we have to presume that if judicial functions were undertaken by anyone, it was by one or more of the three subordinates to whom Levens had entrusted the management of the struggling colony: Jean-Baptiste, Menard, Martin Merrick, and Labro.46 When Dufresne left the Arkansas around 1726 we can hardly guess the means resorted to for the settlement of disputes. Probably Father Paul du Poisson, the Jesuit missionary resident from 1727 to 1729, used his good offices to maintain order among the approximately thirty Frenchmen who had remained behind.47 It seems probable, therefore, that Arkansas's first sustained exposure to European legal proceedings and principles occurred in the period during which Law's Company held sway in Louisiana. Tonti's seventeenth-century feudal seignory no doubt carried with it the right to render justice. Though his charter from La Salle has not as yet come to light,48 other conveyances of La Salle's are extant; and in them he gave his grantees judicial power over small cases ("low justice" this is called) while specifically reserving important cases ("high justice") to himself. (Cases of the latter type he directed to be heard by the judge "who shall be established at Fort St. 45. Id. at 440. 46. 4 M. GIRAUD, supra note 17, at 272. Menard left the Arkansas in 1722 (jd., 275) and was in New Orleans in 1720. Index to the Records efthe Superior Council of Louisiana, 4 LA. HIST. Q. 349 (1921). 47. Dufresne appears in the Arkansas census of January !, 1726; but on October 21, 1726, he is described as a "settler in Arkansas, but now domiciled with Mr. Traguidy [in New Orleans]." Index to the Records of Superior Council of New Orleans, 3 LA. HIST. Q. 420 (1920). In 1727 there was no director at the Arkansas, as Father Du Poisson tells us that he took up evidence in "the India Company's house, which is also that of the commandants when there are any here . " See Falconer, supra note 27, at 371. 48. For a charter from Tonti to Jacques Cardinal, one of his men at the Arkansas, see THE FRENCH FOUNDATIONS, supra note 9, at 396. 'Fhla is tlae Olll)' grant gf Tgati's eKtastF 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 403 Louis.")49 We do not know whether Tonti's charter contained identical provisions but it certainly would have contained similar ones. But during the fifteen years or so that Tonti held the right to dispose of certain cases arising in his seignory, it hardly seems credible that he or his deputies ever held anything resembling a court, or even executed many instruments or documents.50 IV In 1731 the Compagnie d'Occident surrendered its charter to Louis XV, and for the rest of the period of French dominion Louisiana was a Crown Colony. Late that same year a military garrison was re-established in Arkansas; it consisted of twelve men commanded by First Ensign de Coulange and was located again on the edge of Little Prairie. 51 (See Figure 2). It was apparently during the reorganization of the colony in 1731 that civil and military authority at the outposts of Louisiana were combined in the commandant of the garrison-an arrangement that would survive into the Spanish period and even for a short time during the American regime. Part of a post commandant's civil authority was to act as notary and judge. The exact scope of his judicial jurisdiction during the French period is obscure, there being no document of which I am aware which describes it specifically. Parkman, writing of conditions in the Illinois in 1764, says that the "military commandant whose station was at Fort Chartres on the Mississippi, ruled the Colony with a sway as absolute as that of the Pasha of Egypt, and judged civil and criminal cases without right of appeal."52 Captain Phillip Pittman, an English engineer and Mississippi explorer who was writing at almost exactly the same time, gives a slightly different version. According to him, the Illinois commandant "was absolute 49. Concession in fee by La Salle to Pierre Prudhomme, in id. at 32. 50. When Tonti petitioned for confirmation of his charter, he was evidently refused. The petition is printed in E. MURPHEY, HENRY DE TONTI, FUR TRADER OF THE MISSISSIPPI 119 (1941). It is possible that La Salle did not have the power to make permanent grants and that may be the reason that Tonti needed confirmation. The Letters Patent of May 12, 1678, giving La Salle the right to explore "the western part of New France" in the king's behalf, gave him the power to build forts wherever he deemed them necessary; and he was "to hold them on the same tern1s and conditions as Fort Frontenac." See T. FALCONER, ON THE DISCOVERY OF THE MISSISSIPPI 19 (1844). La Salle said expressly in 1683 that this allowed him to "divide with the French and the Indians both the lands and the commerce of said country until it may please his majesty to command otherwise . " See THE FRENCH FoUNDATio~;upra note 9, at 43. The language is ambiguous, but on one permissible reading it indicates a specifically reserved power in the king to revoke grants made by La Salle. 51. Faye, supra note 6, at 673. 52. Quoted in Dart, supra note 31, at 249. 404 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 in authority, except in matters of life and death; capital offences were tried by the council at New Orleans."53 Of course, the Arkansas commandant's judicial jurisdiction was not necessarily as extensive as that possessed by the commandant of the Illinois. He may very well have been subordinate to the Illinois commandant during most of the French period. Some fitful light is thrown on the judicial authority of the Arkansas commandant by an interesting proceeding which took place at the Post in 1743.54 In October of that year, Anne Catherine Chenalenne, the widow of Jean Francois Lepine, petitioned Lieutenant Jean-Francois Tisserant de Montcharvaux, whom she styled "Commandant for the King at the Fort of Arkansas," asking him to cause an inventory and appraisal to be made of the community property in her possession. The object in view was to make a distribution to the petitioner's son-in-law and daughter who had the previous May lost all their goods when attacked by Chickasaws on the Mississippi not far below the mouth of the Arkansas. They had narrowly escaped with their lives.55 Widow Lepine had decided to make a distribution to "her poor children, at least to those who have run so much risk among the savages." She was preparing to marry Charles Lincto, a well-to-do resident of the Post, and she wished to dissolve the old community which by custom had continued after her husband's death in her and their children. The commandant informed Madame Lepine that on 26 October, 1743, he would inventory the "real and personal property derived from the marital community" and would bring with him two persons to look after the widow's interest and two to represent the children. The idea was that each party in interest should have independent appraisers present to insure the impartiality of the inventory and evaluation. De Montcharvaux in the presence of these and other witnesses caused the inventory to be made on the appointed day. The estate was fairly sizeable, being valued at 14,530 /ivres and 10 sols. It contained a great deal of personalty, including four slaves, a number of animals, 1600 pounds of tobacco, and notes and accounts receivable; the realty noted was "an old house" with three small outbuildings. Interestingly, no land was mentioned. There are two possible explanations for the absence of land in S3. P. PITTMAN, THE PRESENT STATE OF THE EUROPEAN SETTLEMENT ON THE M1ss1sSIPPI S3 (1770) (Reprinted with intro. by R. Rea 1973). S4. The relevant documents are translated in Core, Arkansas through the Looking Glass ef 1743 Documents, 22 GRAND PRAIRIE HISTORICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 16 (1979). SS. This incident is reported and discussed in Faye, supra note 6, at 677-78. 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 405 the inventory. One is that land may not have been actually granted to Arkansas settlers but only given over temporarily to their use. The other possibility is that the land on which the house was built had belonged to Lepine before the marriage and had remained his separate property under his marriage contract or under the general provisions of the Coutume de Paris. The Coutume, which, as we have seen, was in force in French Louisiana, provided that all movables (personalty), belonging to a husband or wife, whenever acquired, became part of the community; but only certain immovables (realty) acquired after the marriage were so treated.56 This rule could be altered by contract, but in Louisiana, as in France, the Coutume was often specifically incorporated into marriage contracts by future spouses in defining the regime that would rule their property; 57 and if there was no contract provision creating a property regime, the Coutume of course automatically applied. The inventory is said to have been made "Pardevant nous Jean Francois Tisserant Ecuyer Sieur Demoncharvaus Commandant pour le Roy au Fort des Arkansas." The formulapardevant nous ("before us") is Parisian notarial boiler-plate and indicates that the commandant was acting in his surrogate notarial capacity. To an American common lawyer, the notary is not a member of the legal profession, not even a paralegal. But in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century France he enjoyed a much more elevated status, as indeed he still does in that country. Originally an official of the medieval European ecclesiastical courts, the notary developed into a noncontentious secular legal professional in France. In England, partly because the canon and secular laws were not on speaking terms, "the notarial system never took deep root."58 For one thing, an important aspect of the notary's duties, his authority to "authenticate" documents, was of little use to the English. The whole notion of a state-sanctioned authenticator of private acts was entirely foreign to the common law: Whereas in France we see notaries "making" and "passing" contracts, the common law left that to the parties. The state was very much in the background in England, and was called upon only to enforce obligations that arose by force of nature. The other aspect of the French notary's duties, the drafting of instruments, conveyancing, and the giving of legal advice, was per- 56. See Baade, supra note 39, at 7, 8. 57. Id. at 25. 58. l F. POLLOCK & F. MAITLAND, A HISTORY OF ENGLISH LAW 218 (2d ed., reissued with intro. by S. Milsom 1968). 406 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 formed by the regular legal profession in England. It is true that there was a scriveners' company organized in London in the sixteenth century which was granted a charter in the reign of James l.59 Members were empowered to draft legal documents, especially obligations (or bonds), and they gave a certain amount of low-level legal advice particularly in commercial and banking matters. 60 The few secular notaries who practiced in London at that time concerned themselves mainly with drafting documents relevant to international trade, and they were members of this company.61 But in the eighteenth century the company lost its effort to keep commonlaw attorneys from competing, and in 1804 parliament made conveyancing the monopoly of the regular legal profession.62 In contrast, the French notary's duties by the eighteenth century had come to include not only the familiar ones of administering oaths, taking acknowledgements, and giving "authenticity" to "acts" of private persons by attesting them officially, but they also ran generally to the drafting of documents, conveyancing, and the giving of practical legal advice.63 It is not surprising, therefore, that notaries would 59. See 12 w. HOLDSWORTH, A HISTORY OF ENGLISH LAW 70 (1938). See generally on the notary in England, Gutteridge, The Origin and Development ef the Profession of Notaries Public in England, in CAMBRIDGE LEGAL ESSAYS 12 (1926). 60. 12 w. HOLDSWORTH, supra note 59, at id. 61. 5 w. HOLDSWORTH, supra note 59, at 115 (3d ed. 1945). 62. 12 w. HOLDSWORTH, supra note 59, at 71-72; T. PLUCKNETT, A CONCISE HISTORY OF THE COMMON LAW 227-28 (5th ed. 1956). 63. As draftman of wills, marriage contracts, and conveyances, Mons. le Notaire has survived in France as a much respected person, especially in the country villages. He is a general non-forensic legal practitioner, his part in the legal scheme "being confined to voluntary as distinct from contentious jurisdiction." Brown, The office of Notary in France, 2 INT'L & COMP. L. Q. 60, at 64 (1953). Indeed, the French notary is close to the equivalent of the English solicitor, except for the latter's participation in litigation. Thus one modern-day commentator opined that "a solicitor would feel much at home in the etude of the French notary, though he would be surprised, and perhaps disappointed, by the cordiality of the morning post." Id. at 71. Today in Louisiana as well the notary enjoys considerable powers. See Burke & Fox, The Notaire in North America: A Short Study of the Adaptation of a Civil Law Institution, 50 TUL. L. REV. 318, at 328-32 (1975); Brosman, Louisiana-An Accidental Experiment in Fusrim, 24 TUL. L. REV. 95, 98-99 (1949). The Louisiana notary has the power "to make inventories, appraisements, and petitions; to receive wills, make protests, matrimonial contracts, conveyances, and generally, all contracts and instruments of writing; to hold family meetings and meetings of creditors; . to affix the seals upon the effects of deceased persons and to raise the same." LA. STAT. ANN.§ 35:2 (1964). When the Louisiana legislature defined the practice of law, and prohibited all but licensed attorneys from engaging in it, it therefore remembered to except acts performed by the notary which were "necessary or incidental to the exercise of the powers and functions of (his] office." LA. STAT. ANN. § 37:212(B) (1974). A walk through modern-day New Orleans will reveal a number of signs proclaiming the existence of "Law and Notarial Offices", a combination having an odd ring in the ears of an American common lawyer. The Louisiana notary is simply "a different and 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 407 make an appearance in eighteenth-century Louisiana. In New Orleans, of course, there was much work for them, but there were also provincial notaries operating in Biloxi, Mobile, Natchitoches, Pointe Coupee, and Kaskaskia.64 Since De Montcharvaux acted as notary for the Lepine inventory, it is reasonably clear that there was no provincial notary resident at the Arkansas at that time. This comes as no surprise since in 1746 there were at the Post only twelve habitant families, ten slaves, and twenty men in the garrison, 65 hardly a sufficient European population to require or attract a law-trained scrivener. When it was time to have their marriage contract made, the widow Chenalenne and her future spouse executed it in New Orleans. No doubt there was available there legal advice on which they might more comfortably rely.66 Besides, there was at that time no resident priest at the Post to perform the marriage. v On May 10, 1749, an event occurred that considerably reduced the European population of Arkansas and also made it difficult to attract settlers there for some time. On that day, the Post was attacked by a group of about 150 Chicaksaw and Abeka warriors. Their coming was undetected67 and thus they caught the small habitant population altogether unaware. They burned the settlement, killed six male settlers, and took eight women and children as slaves.68 The census taken later that year shows, not surprisingly, that the population had decreased since the previous census. Seven more important official person than is the notary public in other jurisdictions of the United States." Brosman, supra at 98. 64. See Baade, supra note 39, at 12. 65. Memoire sur /'Eta! de la Colonie de la Louisiane en 1746. Archives des Colonies, Archives Nationales, Paris [hereinafter cited as ANC], Cl3A, 30:242-281, at 249, (Typescript of original document available at Little Rock Public Library). As the average family size in Arkansas in the middle of the eighteenth century was about four, this would put the number of habitant whites at the Post at about forty-eight. 66. For an abstract of this marriage contract, see Records o.f the Superior Council o.f Louisiana, 13 LA. HlsT. Q. 129 (1944). 67. However, the habitants may have had a warning that something was afoot, for on May l, Francois Sarrazin had written from Arkansas that "two savages have killed a man and a woman and burnt a man in the frame." Records efthe Superior Court o.f Louisiana, 20 LA. HlsT. Q. 505 (1937). This incident may have been connected with the attack nine days later. 68. Vaudreuil to Rouille, September 22, 1749, calendared in THE VAUDREUIL PAPERS 59-60 (B. Barron ed., 1975). See also Faye, supra note 6, at 684 et seq. W. BAIRD, THE QUAPAW INDIANS: A HISTORY OF THE DOWNSTREAM PEOPLE 34 (1980), gives the number taken as slaves as thirteen. 408 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 men, eight women, eight boys, and eight girls remained, a total of only thirty-one white habitants at the Poste des Akansa .69 Nor did all this mark an end to serious trouble. When in June of 1751 First Ensign Louis-Xavier-Martin de Lino de Chalmette, the commandant of the Post, went uninvited to New Orleans to consult with the governor, his entire garrison of six men took the opportunity to desert. 70 Things were obviously at a critical juncture. When later in 17 51 Lieutenant Paul Augustin le Pelletier de la Houssaye took command at Arkansas he found there a post recently rebuilt by its habitants and _voyagij,tfrs and probably already relocated to a spot ten or twelve miles upriver at the edge of the Grand Prairie. (See Figure 2). It is clear that Governor Vaudreuil had determined to hold the Arkansas even if the cost proved high, for he assigned to De La Houssaye a large company of forty-five men.71 The lieutenant was also authorized to build a new fort; government funds being lacking, he undertook the construction at his own expense in return for a five-year Indian trade monopoly.72 This new beginning could, in the nature of things, have given only a slight lift to the prospects for sustained settlement in the Arkansas country. Late in 1752 Governor Vaudreuil was informed that the Osages had attempted an attack on Arkansas Post but had failed. 73 While this indicates a stability of sorts for the l?ost, thanks no doubt to the size of the new garrison, still the perceived danger must have been so high as to discourage all but the most intrepid from taking up residence at the Arkansas. Mentions of Arkansas in the legal records tend to emphasize the dangerousness of the place. For instance, a couple from Pointe Coupee, on the verge of leaving for a hunting trip to the White River country, thought it best to deed their property to a relative, with the stipulation that the deed was to be void if they returned.74 It is not surprising, therefore, that even as late as 1766, the last year of French dominion, only eight habitant families, consisting in all of forty white persons, were resident at Arkansas Post.75 69. Arkansas Post Census, 1749, Loudon Papers 200, Huntington Library, San Marino, CA. There were also fourteen slaves resident at the post and sixteen voyageurs who had returned after their winter's work. There were five hunters on the White River and four on the St. Francis. Thirty-five hunters had failed to return from the Arkansas River. 70. Faye, supra note 6, at 708. 71. Id. at 211. 72. Id. 73. THE VAUDREUIL PAPERS, supra note 68, at 136. 74. Index to the Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, 24 LA. HlsT. Q. 75 (1941). 75. See Din, Arkansas Post in the American Revolution, 40 ARK. HIST. Q. 3, at 4 (1981). 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 409 All of these difficulties, and others, made for a place in which it might be regarded as too polite to expect the presence of much which corresponds to a legal system. In addition, political exigencies sometimes interfered to such an extent that the application of even-handed legal principle became inexpedient and thus entirely impracticable. For instance, the continued existence of the Arkansas settlement depended heavily on the loyalty of the Quapaws and their wishes were therefore relevant to any important decision made there. Their influence could extend even to the operation of the legal system as the following incident demonstrates. On 12 September, 1756, a meeting was held in the Government House in New Orleans to hear an extraordinary request from Guedetonguay, the Medal Chief of the Quapaws.76 His tribe had captured four deserters from the Arkansas garrison and had returned them; but the chief had come on behalf of his nation to ask Governor Kerlerac to pardon the soldiers. One of those captured, Jean Baptiste Bernard, in addition to having deserted, had killed his corporal Jean Nicolet within the precincts of the fort. The chief, obviously a great orator, said that he had come a long distance to plead for the soldiers' lives despite the heat and the demands of the harvest; and in his peroration he said that his head hung low, hi~ eyes were fixed to the ground, and his heart wept for these men. He knew, he explained, that if he had not come they would have been executed, and this was intolerable to him because he regarded them as his own children. He recited many friendly acts of the Qua paws to prove the fidelity of his people to the French. Among them was the release of six slaves (perhaps Chicaksaws captured by the Quapaws) "who would have been burned" otherwise, and the recent capture of five Choctaws and two trespassing Englishmen. He himself, he noted, had recently lost one son and had had another wounded in the war against the Chickasaws; and he . counted this "a mark of affection for the French." In recompense he asked for the pardon of the soldiers. The chief added that this was the only such pardon his nation had thus far requested, and he promised never to ask again. He did not doubt that Kerlerac, "the great chief of the French father of the red men," charged to govern them on behalf of "the great chief of all the French who lived in the 76. What follows is based on a memorandum entitled "Harangues faites dans /'assemb/ee tenue a /'hotel du gouvernment cejourdhui, 20 Juin 1756," found in ANC, Cl3A, 39:177-180 (Transcript at Little Rock Public Library). The translations are mine. 410 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 great town on the other side of the great lake," would listen and do the just thing. Guedetonguay left his best argument for last. He maintained vigorously that, under his law, any criminal who managed to reach the refuge of the Cabanne de Valeur where the Quapaws practiced their religious rites was regarded as having been absolved of his crime. It was their custom everywhere that the chief of the Cabanne de Valeur "would sooner lose his life than suffer the refugee to undergo punishment for his crime." Evidently the soldiers were claiming this right; and Ouyayonsas, the chief of the Cabanne de Valeur, was there to back them up. This last argument was an excellent one because it called upon the French to recognize an established Indian usage not dissimilar from the European custom of sanctuary. And the argument carried with it a threat of violent reaction if the custom were not allowed. Kerlerac answered the chief that he was not unmindful of the past services of the Quapaws, nor was he ungrateful for them. "But," he said, "I cannot change the words declared by the great chief of all the French against such crimes, and . . . it would be a great abuse for the future" to pardon the soldiers. So, he continued, "despite all the friendship that the French have for you and your nation, these men deserve death." The great chief stood for a long time with his head down and finally answered ominously that he could not be responsible for the revolutions which the chief of the privileged house might stir up-revolutions which he said ''would not fail to occur." The argument continued and the governor offered to grant the chief "anything else except these four pardons." But Guedetonguay stubbornly maintained that "the sole purpose of his journey was to obtain the pardon of the four men." In the end the Governor extracted from the Quapaw chiefs "publicly and formally their word . . . that they would in the future deliver up all deserting soldiers as malefactors or other guilty persons without any restriction or condition whatsoever, and that . pardons would be accorded at the sole discretion of the French." No immediate decision was reached by the Governor, but later that day some of his advisors, having reflected on what they had heard, reckoned "that a refusal of the obstinate demands of these chiefs . . . the faithful allies of the French would only involve the colony in troublesome upheavals on the part of the said nations who have otherwise up to the present served very faithfully." They con- 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 411 eluded that "saving a better idea by Monsieur le Gouverneur it would be dangerous, under all the present circumstances, not to satisfy the Indians with the pardons which they demanded." The governor took the advice but evidently did not write to Berryet, the French Minister of the Marine, for some time to tell him about it. From the comfort of Versailles it was easy for Berryet to pick at Kerlerac's decision.77 In responding to Kerlerac, Berryet first made the point that Bernard's case was different from that of the other captured soldiers since he was accused of homicide in addition to desertion. Then, too, the minister had a lot of questions. Could not the difference in Bernard's case have been urged on the Arkansas chiefs to get them to relent in his case? Where was the record of the legal proceedings which should have been conducted relative to the killing? If this was a wilfull murder the pardon had been conceded too easily. "It would be dangerous," the minister warned, ''to leave such a subject in the colony, not only because he would be an example of impunity but also because of new crimes that he might commit." (The arguments of general and specific deterrence are not very recent inventions.) Finally, the governor was sternly admonished "not to surrender easily to demands of this sort on the part of the savages . If on the one hand it is necessary, considering all the present circumstances, to humor the savages, it is also necessary to be careful of letting them set a tone that accords neither with the king's authority nor the good of the colony." Nevertheless, the minister talked to the king and he ratified the governor's decision. Writs of pardon were therefore issued under the king's name for each of the Arkansas soldiers. Because the homicide committed by Bernard was not a military crime and was cognizable therefore by the Superior Council of Louisiana, his pardon was directed to the Council. Interestingly, though Berryet admitted knowing nothing of the circumstances surrounding the killing, the pardon recited that a quarrel had arisen between Bernard and Nicolet, that they had beaten each other, that Bernard : "had had the misfortune to kill the said Nicolet," and that the death "had occurred without premeditated murder."78 Thus Louis XV pardoned Jean Baptiste Bernard for killing by mischance when there was no evidence adduced as to the facts resulting in Nicolet's 77. What follows is based in Berryet's letter to Kerlerac and Bobe Descloseaux dated July 14, 1769. ANC, B, 109:487-88 (Transcript at Little Rock Public Library). The translation is mine. 78. The pardon (brevet de grtJce) was enclosed in the letter and is ANC, B, 109:489 (Transcript at Little Rock Public Library). The translation is mine. 412 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 death. The decision was generated simply by a desire to accommodate an important ally. Faithful adherence to legal principle sometimes had to take a back seat to the more compelling demands of politics. VI Father Louis Carette, the Jesuit missionary who came to the Post of Arkansas in 1750, nevertheless attempted to bring some order to the legal affairs of the place. As he noted in a procuration (power of attorney) dated at Arkansas in 1753, he was "authorized by the king to make in every post where there is not a Notary Royal all contracts and acts . "79 There is no evidence that he had any formal legal training, but he was a Jesuit, and thus a learned man, one of a handful of such who would make their residence in eighteenth- century Arkansas. The 1753 procuration is itself of some interest, as it sheds light on how litigants whose cases were technically beyond the jurisdiction exercised by the Arkansas commandant (whatever that was) might have had their cases heard if they wanted to resort to regular methods of dispute settlement. As incredible as it seems, it is probable that the only court of general jurisdiction in the entire colony was the Superior Council of Louisiana. Now, in 1763 La Harpe said that it was a two-week boat trip from the Arkansas to New Orleans, and six to eight weeks back.80 Obviously, the procuration was an important device for people in remote posts like Arkansas, for it enabled them through their attorneys, in the language of the document under discussion, "to act . . . as though they were personally present."81 Convoys or individual vessels travelled down the Mississippi frequently enough to make this means of tending to legal affairs more tolerable than it might otherwise have been. In this case, the attorney chosen was Commandant de la Houssaye, and he was deputed to act in a probate matter at Pointe Coupee for Etienne de Vaugine de Nuysement and his wife Antoinette Pelagie Petit de Divilliers. An interesting feature of procurations which increased their utility and flexibility was that they were assignable. This feature came in handy in this instance since De La Houssaye, having 79. Index to the Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, 22 LA. H!sT. Q. 255 (1939). 80. La Harpe to Chosseul, August 8, 1763, ANC, Ci3B, 1 (Typescript in Little Rock Public Library). 81. Records, supra note 79, at id. 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 413 been detained at the Arkansas due to illness, simply transferred the power of attorney to a member of the Superior Council "to act in my place as myself."82 Perhaps one of the reasons that Carette had acted as notary in this instance was that the only other person in the little community authorized so to act, the commandant, was a party to the instrument. But in the French period priests were given general notarial powers and could act even in the absence of circumstances disabling the commandant. For instance, Carette acted as notary, and thus probably draftsman, for a marriage contract in which the commandant was not interested. This was the marriage contract of Francois Sarrazin and Francoise Lepine, executed at Arkansas Post on January 6, 1752. Marriage contracts have no exact parallel in common-law practice, and it thus seems worthwhile, before discussing the particulars of the Sarrazin-Lepine contract, to devote some time to their explanation and description. In a recent seminal study, Professor Hans Baade has outlined the provisions which one typically finds in marriage contracts executed in accordance with eighteenth-century Parisian notarial practice.83 The first and invariable undertaking by the future spouses was a promise to celebrate their marriage in facie ecc! esiae. The parties would then choose the regime which would govern their property during the marriage. Next would come a declaration that the ante-nuptial debts of the parties were to remain their separate obligations; this was followed by a disclosure of the parties' assets, a requirement for the validity of the previous provision. The dowry brought to the marriage by the wife was next recited; and delineating preciput, the right of the spouse to specific property in the event of dissolution of the community, frequently followed. Finally came the donation clause, usually a reciprocal grant of all or part of the predeceasing spouse's estate. In Louisiana, this donation, in order to be valid, had to be registered with the Superior Council in New Orleans. An inspection of the Sarrazin-Lepine marriage contract reveals that it very clearly drew on these French notarial precedents, and it reflects, moreover, an awareness of the practical requirements of the Louisiana registration provisions. It contained a promise to celebrate the marriage in regular fashion, the creation of a community property regime, a clause stating the amount of the wife's dowry, a 82. Id. 83. What follows is taken from Baade, supra note 39, at 15-18. 414 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 mutual donation to the survivor of all property owned at death, and an undertaking to have the contract registered in New Orleans.84 While there was no clause dealing with ante-nuptial debts and no mention of preciput, it is quite obvious that the good Jesuit knew more than a little about French notarial practice, and may well have had at his disposal a form book on which he could draw. He was, for all practical purposes, for a time the "lawyer" of the post as well as its cure. Before we leave this interesting document there is an aspect of it which bears detailed attention. The property regime chosen by the parties included in the community "all property, movable and immovable"85-as common lawyers would say, all property, both personal and real. In this respect the contract departs from the Custom of Paris which included in the community all movables but only certain immovables (conquets) acquired after marriage. 86 Parties were allowed in Louisiana to contract almost any property arrangement they wanted, 87 and Sarrazin and Lepine had elected a somewhat unusual variety of community. Curiously, however, the contract reckoned that this regime was "in accordance with the custom received in the colony of Louisiana." A few months after the execution of this contract Commandant de la Houssaye wrote to the governor to say that Monsieur Etienne V augine, a French officer, was of a mind to marry Madame de Gouyon, the commandant's sister-in-law, and he sent along "the proposed conditions for the contract of marriage."88 This was a draft of the contract, as De La Houssaye asked the governor to pass "/'exemplair du contra!" along to the New Orleans notary Chantaloux if the governor decided to give his permission for the marriage. Chantaloux was "to make it as it should be."89 Three weeks later the governor wrote to say that the contract would be sent back soon and that Chantaloux had left it intact except for one reasonably minor alteration.90 In 1758 Father Carette, dismayed by the irreligious inclination of his flock, left the Arkansas and no replacement was sent. In 17 64, 84. Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, 25 LA. HlsT. Q. 856-57 (1942). 85. Id. at 856. 86. Baade, supra note 39, at 15. 87. Id. 88. La Houssaye to Vaudreuil, Dec. l, 1752, LO 410, Huntington Library, San Marino, CA. 89. Id. 90. THE v AUDREUIL PAPERS, supra note 68, at 152. 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 415 Captain Pierre Marie Cabaret Detrepi, commandant at the Arkansas, after Madame Sarrazin had found herself widowed, passed a second marriage contract for her which was extremely unsophisticated and rudimentary.91 It contained only a promise to marry regularly and a mutual donation. Perhaps the good widow had by this time tired of long-winded formalities. Just as likely, the Post was feeling the absence of Carette's drafting skills. VII As tiny, remote, and inconsequential as the Arkansas settlement was, then, it is nevertheless clear that at least some of its people were part of the time adherents to French legal culture. Of course almost everyone who lived at the Post during the period of French domination was either a native of France or French Canadian; and by the end of the French period a substantial number of native Louisianans were there. It is most interesting to find the survival of civilian legal form in so remote an outpost of empire. Obviously, not all of Arkansas's residents lapsed into a kind of legal barbarism. There were, however, circumstances at work which would make it impossible for some time to establish a community which could be expected to value the observance of legal niceties very highly. As we have already seen, the Post could not have been very attractive to the more civilized settler owing to its dangerous location. Arkansas Post, moreover, over the years experienced an extreme physical instability since it was necessary to relocate it several times due partly to flooding. (See Figure 2). The Arkansas River was in the eighteenth century "a turbulent, silt-laden stream, subject to frequent floods which were disastrous along its lower course."92 This proved to be a considerable disincentive to settlement. Add to that the enormous expanse occupied by the alluvial plain of the Mississippi and the difficulty becomes plain enough. Almost any site within thirty miles of the mouth of the Arkansas carried with it a considerable risk of floods. Law's colony, on the Arkansas twenty-seven miles or so from its mouth, was said in 1721 to be "in a fertile sector but subject to floods."93 The success of the attack by the Chickasaws in 1749, when the Post was at the same 91. Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, Feb. 11, 1764, Louisiana History Center, Louisiana State Museum, New Orleans. 92. P. HOI.DER, supra note 15, at 152. 93. 4 M. GIRAUD, supra note 17, at 273 (1974). 416 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 location, was made possible by the absence from the neighborhood of the Quapaws: Because of recent floods they had abandoned their old fields for a more promising place upstream.94 This place, called Ecores Rouges (Red Bluffs) by the French, was about thirty-six miles from the mouth of the Arkansas and was at the present location of the Arkansas Post Memorial.95 After the attack, the Post was moved to join the Indians at Ecores Rouges so as to provide for mutual protection.96 The new spot was free from floods but proved unsatisfactory from a strategic standpoint because of its distance from the Mississippi. The location delayed convoys and Governor Vaudreuil expressed the view that "a post on the Mississippi would be more practical."97 Therefore in 1756 the Post was moved back downriver to about ten miles above the mouth. But the inevitable soon occurred. In 1758 heavy flooding, graphically described in a letter of Etienne Maurafet Layssard the garde magasin (storekeeper) of the Post, caused heavy damage, almost undoing the work of builders and architects who had been at work for the better part of a year. The houses were saved by virtue of being raised on stakes against such a day as this; but the habitants' fields, everything but Layssard's garden for which he had providently provided a levee, were entirely inundated.98 It was in fact a small enough loss. From the beginning, and understandably, the attempt to make a stable agricultural community of the Arkansas had failed miserably. There is no doubt that the European population of Arkansas during the French period consisted almost entirely of hunters and Indian traders. In 1726 the reporter of the Louisiana census remarked of the Arkansas that "all the habitants were poor and lived only from the hunting of the Indians." 99 A 1746 report said of the twelve Arkansas habitant families 94. Faye, supra note 6, at 717-19. 95. See figure 2. 96. For details, see Appendix II to my forthcoming book, UNEQUAL LAWS UNTO A SAVAGE RACE; EUROPEAN LEGAL TRADlTIONS IN ARKANSAS, 1686-1836. 97. THE VAUDREUIL PAPERS, supra note 68, at 118. 98. Faye, supra note 6, at 718-19. A detailed description of the repairs made in the summer of 1758, evidently necessitated by these floods, is in ANC, CBA, 40:349-50 (Typescript in Little Rock Public Library). In addition to making repairs, the builders constructed a house 26 feet long and 19 wide just outside the fort for the Indians who came there on business. It was of poteaux en terre construction, was covered with shingles, and was enclosed with stakes. The report describing the renovation and construction work of 1758 is signed by Denis Nicol~s Foucault, chief engineer of the Province of Louisiana. 99. ANC, GI, 464 (Transcript at Little Rock Public Library). 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM • DeWitt ARKANSAS COUNTY • Dumas I I I 0 1. 1686-1699; 1721-1749 N 1 DESHA COUNTY T I I 4 I 8 mi Figure 2 Locations of Arkansas Post, 1686-1983 2. 1749-1756; 1779-1983 3. 1756-1779 JB Based on a map drawn by John Baldwin which appeared in Arnold, The Relocation of Arkansas Post to Ecores Rouges in 1779, 42 ARK. HIST. Q. 317 (1983). Used with permission of the Arkansas Historical Association. 417 418 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 that "their principal occupation is hunting, curing meat, and commerce in tallow and bear oil." As for cultivating the soil, the same source reported that the habitants grew "some tobacco for their own use and for that of the savages and voyageurs." 100 In 1765 Captain Phillip Pittman, an Englishman, said that there were eight families living outside the fort who had cleared the land about nine hundred yards in depth. But, according to him "on account of the sandiness of the soil, and the lowness of the situation, which makes it subject to be overflowed," their harvest was not enough even to supply them with their necessary provisions. Pittman noted that "when the Mississippi is at its utmost height the Lands are overflow' d upwards of five feet; for this reason all the buildings are rais'd six feet from the ground." Thus the residents of the Arkansas, he said, subsisted mainly by hunting and every season sent to New Orleans "great quantities of bear's oil, tallow, salted buffalo meat, and a few skins." 101 Both Layssard102 and Father Watrin103 hint that the discouragement produced by the frequent flooding contributed to Father Carette's decision to leave. However that may be, it must be clear that during the period of French dominion the Post did not provide fertile soil for either crops or religion. Would regular bourgeois legal procedures have generally been afforded a more cordial acceptance? Even absent direct evidence, this would in the abstract seem most unlikely. Unsafe, unstable, and uncomfortable, the Arkansas Post of Louisiana during the period of French dominion must surely also have been largely unmindful of bourgeois legal values. It is true, as we have seen, that some of the Post's residents tried to maintain a connection between their remote outpost and European legal culture. But the few legal records that chance has allowed to come down to us from the French period are remarkable not only for their small number but also for the social and economic characteristics they reveal of the people who figured in them. They were an elite, related by marriage and blood, struggling under the difficult circumstances of their situation to participate in regular le- 100. Memoire, supra note 65 (Transcript at Little Rock Public Library). 101. P. PITTMAN, supra note 53, at xliv, 40-41. 10+. See ANC, Cl3A, 40:357 (Transcript in Little Rock Public Library). Layssard there remarks that the inhabitants at Arkansas were too poor to build a levee, and that "the Father would rather leave than go to such an expense. He is very poor." 103. See J. DELANGLEZ, THE FRENCH JESUITS IN LOWER LOUISIANA 444, where Watrin is quoted as saying that, despite there being little hope for conversion of the Quapaws, Father Carette "nevertheless followed both the French and the savages in their various changes of place, occasioned by the overflowing of the Mississippi near which the post is situated." 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 419 gal processes. The probate proceeding of 1743 was instituted by one of the most well-to-do residents of Arkansas in the person of Anne Catherine Chenalenne, widow of Jean Francois Lepine. The community property inventoried included four slaves. 104 Her future husband Charles Lincto became the most substantial civilian resident of the Post. The 17 49 census, if one excludes from it for the moment the commandant and his household, reveals that Lincto's household accounted for eight of the twenty-nine white habitants and seven of the eleven slaves at the Arkansas. 105 Etienne de Vaugine de Nuysement who executed the procuration of 1753 was a member of one of the most distinguished French families of Louisiana; 106 and he granted the power to Commandant de la Houssaye who would soon become a Major of New Orleans and a Knight of the Royal and Military Order of St. Louis. 107 Vaugine and De la Houssaye married sisters. The marriage contract executed at the Arkansas in 1752 was entered into by the Post's garde magasin and Francoise Lepine, a daughter of Anne Catherine Chenalenne the petitioner in the probate proceeding of 1743; and the bride's dowry had resulted from the dissolution of the community which had been the aim of that proceeding. Finally, Francoise Lepine's second marriage contract, passed by Detrepi in 1764, was prelude to her marriage to Jean Baptiste Tisserant de Montcharvaux, officer and interpreter at the Post and son of the commandant who executed the 1743 inventory. We are dealing with a propertied and interconnected gentry here, a tiny portion of what was anyway a very small population. How the other, the major part of the Arkansas populace regulated their lives during the French period will, in the nature of things, be difficult to document. But there is some evidence on this point and it indicates that there was a good deal of lawlessness on the Arkansas. According to Athanase de Mezieres, the Lieutenant Governor at Natchitoches, the Arkansas River above the Post was inhabited largely by outlaws. "Most of those who live there," he claimed, "have either deserted from the troops and ships of the most Christian King and have committed robberies, rape, or homicide, 104. For a translation of this inventory, see Core, supra note 54, at 22. 105. Resancement General des Habitants, Voyageurs, Femmes. En.fans, Esclaves, Clzevaus, Beufs, Vaclzes, Coclzons du Foste des Akansas, 1749. Lo. 200, Huntington Library, San Marino, CA. 106. On the Arkansas Vaugines, see Core, T!ze Vaugine Arkansas Connection, 20 GRAND PRAIRIE HISTORICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 6 (1978). 107. Faye, supra note 6, at 709. 420 UALR LAW JOURNAL [Vol. 6:391 that river being the asylum of the most wicked persons, without doubt, in all the Indies." 108 On another occasion, De Mezieres singled out as a particularly heinous offender an Arkansas denizen nicknamed Brindamur, a man "of gigantic frame and extraordinary strength." Brindamur, De Mezieres complained, "has made himself a petty king over those brigands and highwaymen, who, with contempt for law and subordination with equal insult to Christians, and the shame of the very heathen, up to now have maintained themselves on that river." 109 He had been resident on the Arkansas for a long time, as his name appears in the census of 1749. Interestingly, it is placed at the very head of a considerable list of "the voyageurs who have remained up the rivers despite the orders given them." 110 All persons hunting on the rivers were supposed to return every year as passports were not issued for longer periods. But there were large numbers of hunters who lived for twenty years or more in their camps without ever reporting to the Post. They constituted a large proportion, indeed sometimes a majority, of the European population in Arkansas during the French period. The 17 49 census, for instance, lists a habitant population of only thirty-one, including the commandant and his wife. But there were forty hunters on the Arkansas River whose passports had expired, and nine on the White and St. Francis Rivers. Sixteen hunters were said to be at the Post being outfitted to return to the hunt. Brindamur, the bandit King, was murdered by one of his men after the end of the French period, "though tardily" De Mezieres reckoned, and "by divine justice."111 In the Spanish period an effort was made to rid the river of these malefactors. VII Since no records of litigation initiated at the Arkansas during the French period have survived, if indeed any were ever kept, very little can be said directly on how lawsuits were conducted there. However, in 1747 Francois Jahan initiated a suit in the Superior Council in New Orleans against one Clermont, a resident of Arkansas Post, claiming damages for the conversion of a cask of rum at Arkansas. 112 The Superior Council, as we have shown, had jurisdic- 108. 1 ATHANASE DE MEZIERES AND THE LOUISIANA-TEXAS FRONTIER, 1768-1780 166 (H. Bolton ed., 1914). 109. Id. at 168-69. 110. Resancement, supra note 105. 111. t\. BOLTON, supra note 108, at 167. 112. Index lo the Records of the Superior Court of Louisiana, 17 LA. HIST. Q. 569 (1934). 1983] COLONIAL LEGAL SYSTEM 421 tion throughout Louisiana, and this case reveals how it was exercised against a defendant in the hinterlands. The summons was served on the Attorney General of Louisiana; thus, as Henry Dart pointed out, "it would seem . . . that a resident of the Post of Arkansas could be sued in New Orleans by serving the citation on the Procureur [Attorney] General."113 How the case would have, in the ordinary instance, proceeded from there is difficult to say. Probably the Arkansas commandant would have been asked to act as a master to gather facts and to report to the Superior Council. But it seems that the commandant had already ruled independently on the matter. Commandant de Monbharvaux's statement on this case, which is entered in the record a'few days after the suit was initiated, indicates that he had held a hearing on the matter at the Arkansas, had taken testimony as to the rum, and had "sentenced Clermont to pay for it."114 Apparently he had kept no record of the proceeding, as none was offered: The good lieutenant bore his own record. It is interesting to note, however, that this case was evidently not brought to enforce the commandant's judgment but was an independent action. How did the justice provided by the Post commandant during the French period measure up? In the absence of litigation records, this is the hardest kind of question to answer. We know, however, that whatever jurisdiction was exerciseable by the commandant, he acted alone, without official advisors and without, of course, a jury. To say that rule is autocratic is not to say
Issue 1.5 of the Review for Religious, 1942. ; RI::::VII:::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS ' VOLUME I ~SEPTEMBER 15, 1942 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS OUR FRIENDS. THE ANGEl~S---Clement Andlauer. S.J . 290 PAMPIa.~.~ET. NOTICES . " . 300 PATR~:-I~:~'~BEDIENCE IN TIME OF WAR John C. Ford, S.J. . 301 BOOKS . ; -,, AL . 305 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE--G.Augustine Ellard. S.J . 306 SUPPLYIN.G DAYS OF ABSENCE FROM THE NOVITIATEm Adam C. Ellis. S.J . 322 IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS---The Editors . 326 THE "NEW COMMANDMENT" OF LOVEmMatthew Germing, S.J. 3~7 THE APOSTOLATE TOASSIST DYING NON-CATHOLICS-- Gerald Kelly, S.J . 338 COMMUNICATIONS (On Spiritual Direction) . 34 BOOK REVIEWS-- OUR MODELS IN RELIGION. By Brother Jean-Baptiste. F.M.S. 350 THE SOLUTION Is EASY. By the Reverend Mark Schmid. O.S.B. 350 THE DIALOG MASS. By the Reverend Gerald Ellard. S.J. 35 ! . THIS ROSARY. By the Reverend Anthony N. Fuerst . 353 BOOKS RECEIVED . . . 353 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 28. Visting Relatives . 29. Non-acceptance of a dispensation from Vows . " . . . 354 30. Occupation of Novice during Canonical Year . 35.5 31. Scapular Medal worn by Religious . 356 32. Absence from the Postulancy . 356 33. Re-admission of an ex-Religious . 357 34. Local Superior's power to grant Permissions . 357 35. Dismissal of Postulant without giving Reason . " . . ~357 ,THE LETTERS OF SAINT BONIFACE . 358 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 359 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1942. Vol. I, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March. May, duly. September. and November, at The College Press. 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, KanSas. by St. Mary's College, St. Matys. Kan-sas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as se~ond 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.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright. 1942, 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. Our Friends, The Angels Clement Andlauer, S.3. A MATERIALISTIC age such as ours is embarrassed when confronted with the attitude of. St. Francis of Assisi toward nature. To hide their discomfort, moderns often accuse him of exaggerated sentimentality ~t0ward creatures. To St. Francis every creature; ~vhether animate or inanimate, was a brother o~ sister. No object was so low that it did not merit his love and p~otection, his reverence and praise. Tide world around him was one huge family of which he wa~s a member, and in that family circle he rejoiced to recognize his kin, no matter how infe-rior or even repulsive they might be in themselves. The thing that made St. Francis feel at home with the world around him was the consciousness of'a common Father in heaven. All things come from God, and in them all is reflected the perfection of~od. Why, then, should anyone be ashamed to acknowledge kinship Gith tbe wdrks of God's hands? How could. St. Francis help calling the' birds and beasts his brothers and sisters? This is not the exaggerated sentimentality which raises an animal to the status of a human being. It is an intensely human applica-tion of principles of cold logic; the principle that God is the first beginning and last end of all things, the principle that the Divine Essence is th~ model of every created thing. And whether or not we apply these principles in our own lives, the conclusion follows that together with the world around us we form one family. Among the members of our great created family are the angels. Despite the great difference beti~'een their nature and ours, they are our brothers in a higher and truer sense ~han the rest of creation. Even though .their splendor is so 290 - great that they havebeen mistaken by men for God Him-self, still they are creatures. St. John tills us in his Apoc-alypse that an angel spoki~ to him,, "And I fell down before his~ feet to adore him, And he said to me: 'See you do it no~. I am thy fellow-servant, i~nd of thy brethren, w.ho have the testimony of 3~sus. Adore God.'. " Here we have it on,~the word of one of the noblest spirits in heaven that he is our brother. Angels come from the same hand that made us: they are patterned after the same Divine Essence: alone of all other creatures they share with us an intellect and will. If this is not enough to/hake them our brothers, there remains the fact that angels and men are the adopted children of God. Supernatural union with God is our common end; God's grace raises us both to a state above our natures, and God is our mutual Father ifi a .very special and .sublime sense of the word. Our Elder Brothers The angels are our, elder brothers, the more illustrious members of our family. Save for the fact that the Son of God paid us the honor of taking to ,Himself a human; not an angelic, nature, these brothers of ours are far superior, to us. In man is reflected .the existence, the life, the activity of G~d; but all'of these perfections are intimately dependent on matter. Only in the angels do we find these attribufes of God mirrored independently of matter,'~, as they are in God, Because angels exist and act. without the slighest neces-sary connection with matter we call them pure spirits. Our souls are indeed spirits; that is, they are stibstances which have no component parts into which they can be ~separated. They can exist aside from matter, and in their highest operations they depend on matter only as a necessary con-dition. But our souls are brought ifto beihg brily on the 291 CLEMENT ,~NDLAUER condition that matter is rightly disposed. BY their vgry nature they are destined to be united to a material body without which they are incomplete. In their intellectual acts, our souls lean so heavily for support on our bodies that if our sense channels are blockaded by disease or acci-. dent, our mental life is nil or at the best extremely meager. Even a departed soul retains an aptitude for the body it once inhabited. It was~ destined for intimate .union with that body for all eternity, and only when the body rejoins the soul at the resurrection will the complete substance.man exist again. But with the angels it is otherwise. They were never intended to be joined tO matter, or to be depend-ent on it in any way for their life and activity: hence we call them pure spirits. Not only do th~ angels surpass us in the more perfect way in which they show forth God's existenc.e~and activity, but they participate in His power more completely than men. What a struggle'Our poor intellects have in acquiring truth. How faulty is our cognition of many things when we do acquir~ some knowledge of them. Unless an object can be reached by our senses we cannot know it directly but only by analogy. But for an angel it is no Struggle, no matter of syllogizing to attain truth. His cognition is not a mere scratching of the surface to find a similarity. His keen intellect goes to the very essence of things at once and sees ramifications that the wisest men miss after the study of a lifetime. For an angel an examination would not be the painful, ordeal it often-is for us, but just another pleas-ant occupation. These spirits also surpass us .in what we ordinarily call power. It would be a great mistake to imagine that because they have no bodies fhey. have no .powe'r over material objects. Man has become adept in imposing his will on the world .around him by the clever use of the laws of nature, 292 OUR FRIElqI~, THE ANGELS but he must always make use of material instrumentssuch as machines or chemicals. An angel do,es not need a crowbar to move a huge;rock. Indeed, he couldn't use one, since he has no hands. But by his deep insight into the physical laws and by the~ power inherent in his nature, an angel could move that rock more quickly, than we could for all our crowbars. A Valuable Relationship So we see that these brothers .of ours are very. wonder-ful creatures. They are relatives whom we need not be ashamed to acknowledge before the most distinguished meh of ~his earth. It is ratl~er flattering to us to have such hon-orable family connections, but most of us desire, something more substantial than the vicarious limelight of important relatives. If our brotherhood with the angels does nothing more than tickle our Vanity, then it is an interesting but not very.useful doctrine. Therefore~ it is natural for us to ask what, if any', i~ the value of such a relationship with the .angels. Things rarely have any value in themselves; their importance usually comes from their relation to other things. Diamonds would not be valuable if all the rocks in the world were diamonds. But when we look at the world as a whole and see the position that~tha~"pecul.i._ar rock, the diamond, has in the mineral world we under-stand why diamonds are worth money while a piece of sandstone of the same size is worthless. If, then, we look at the position of angels and men in tile plan that God has established in this universe', we begin to understand the very practical use of our brotherhood with the angels. We know that God did not create this world without any purpose in mind. 'On the contrary, reason and faith teach us that God engaged in the work 6f creation to share 293 CLEMENT ANDLAUER His own ,divine goodness with other beirigs as far .as that was possible. Intimately connected "with this end' is the happiness of man, a happindss which in the present order means union with God in the Beatific Vision. Now, while we cannot ~frustrate the first purpose of God, since, by our very existence we share in the perfections of God; unfor- ~tunately for us we can, by the wrong use of our free wills, very effectively prevent God's second and conditional inten-tion from being iealized. Indeed, without special, help from God, it would be extremely difficult-for us not to frustrate this end and thus lose our ~eternal happiness. However, it is hardly_ becoming God's dignity and man's liberty that God should constantly step in to keep us on the right path. A wise employer does not try to handle every department of his business himself. He uses foremen~ and intermediaries. He keeps a watchful eye on the work as. a. whole to see that things go as ithey should, but he leaves his men to work together 'to accomplish the task undertaken. This is what God has done. He designs the whole operation and then allows His creatures to work together, the lower helping the higher, and the higher directing, and watching' over the lower. As St. Thomas ~puts it, "G6d directs lower creatures by the higher;, not because of any defect in His power, but out of the abun-dance of His goodness, that He :might:also give tO creatures some of'the dignity He enjoys as the cause of all things~" Ndw we begin to see the value of our connection with ,the angels. Looking at God's providence 'in its complete-ness we should be surprised if He did not use the :angels to assist us in reaching our last end. If God has communi-cated so,~ much of His infinite perfection to our elder brothersl is it no~t'reasonable .that He should also allow them to assist Him as the cause of' all things? Is it not just what we should expec~ of God's goodness that He would 2§4 OUR FRI~IqD~, THE ANGELS arrange for the ,more perfect members of His family to guard and help the less perfect members? fit Consoling Doctrine -If we have any doubt about the matter, we need but examine Scripture and the teaching of the Church. In the Psalms we read, "For He hath given His angels charge over thee: to keep thee in all thy ways." And again, "The angel of the Lord shall encamp, round about them that fea.r Him; and shall deliver them." It was for this reason that Christ warned the Jews not to despise the little children, those seemingly unimportant mites. "See .that you despise not these little ones, for I say to you that their angels in heaven .always see the face of my Father Who is in heaven." Fathers and theologians have so .insisted on the doctrine that every man has a guardian angel that we cannot doubt this fact without the greatest rashness. The Catechism of the Council of Trent also illustrates this truth in a homely way. It reads, "For as parents, if their children have occa-sion to travel a dangerous way, infested by robbers, appoint persons to guard and assist them in case of attack, so does our Heavenly Father place over each of us, in our journey toward our heavenly home, angels to protect us by their aid and v;ratchfulness, that we may escape the snares secretly laid for us by our enemies, repel their ,horrible attacks on us, and proceed on our journey along the road that leads directly to our end. By their guidance we are saved from the devious wanderings into which our treach-erous foe might betray us, to, lead us aside from the way that leads to,Heaven." Could anything be more consoling than this do(trin~ at thosetimes when we feel so keenly our own weakness? It teaches us not only to hope for but to expect help from creatures that are more like to God. than we are. Obviously, 295 (~LEMENT ANDLAUER r~ we should not look for. such visible and extraordinary ix~tervention in our problems as Tobias had. Our angels will not appear as young men in shining armor tol strike down our enemies as did the angel when Heliodorus attempted to rob the temple of Jerusalem of its-treasures. But we can expect the kind of protection that the valiant Judith received. Inspired by God she went with one maid-servant into the camp of the Assyrians who were besieging Bethulia. For four daysshe dwelt there in the midstlof the dangers of camp life until God delivered Holofernes, the leader of the Assyrians, into her hands and she cut ,off his head. On her return to ]3ethulia unharmed and undefiled she told her countrymen, "Bu~ as the Lord liveth, His angel hath been my keeper, both going hence, and abiding there, and returning from thence hither." No matter how dangerous or difficult our duty may be, the Lord's~ahgel is our keeper and we need have no fear. i ~ Every day our guardian angels protect us from physi-cal dangers, but more important still they ward° off spir-itual dangers. We go through life constantly assaiied by. the spirits of evil who lead us .into sin. ' Against the~se evil ¯ spirits, who have lost none of their great intelligence and power,' we poor Weak men have'to struggle. With~God's grace we can put them to flight; but what a relief i~ is to "have a spirit equally~ powerful or even more powerful fighting¯ on our side. What a consolation in. the hour of death, when our faculties are.weakened and the evil spirits redouble their' efforts fo~. a. last desPerate attack, to have one. who will carry- on. the battle for us.~ This.~isth~ time when our ,guardian angels are most needed, and iri .thi~ hour ~heir whole power is devoted to our protection, i Another officeof our angels is that of counselor. It was an angel that advised Joseph in a dream to take M~ary as ¯ his spouse, to take the Child and fly into Egypt, tol bring 296 OUR FRIENEE, THE ANGELS the Child back again. This is not the way the-angels usually speak to us, but they do speak to us just as truly as if we exchanged "words with them. Frequently they suggest good thoughts to us in such a way that we quite naturally take them for our own thoughts. They urge us to do good works, and we do not realize that we are being~ led by the inspiration of. our guardian angels. In our afflictions they are close .to us to teach us patience and resig-nation, to fill us with faith, to .whisper words ofohope in the good with which God wil~l crown our sufferings. In our joys they rejoice with us, they cause in us thoughts of gratitud~ to God and encourage us to serv~ Him more faith-fully~ There is hardly a Catholic who in some perplexing situation has not had recourse to his angel and received from him the advice he sought. It isa frequent experience with all of us, but because our minds are so easily capti-vated by material objects our counselors sometimes meet stiff opposition in their work. Scripture calls our attention to another duty of the angels: the offering .of our prayers to God--increasing the value of our cold petitions by uniting to them their own ardent supplications. The angel Raphael told the older Tobias, "When thou didst p.ray with tears I offered.thy prayers to the Igord.". And in the Apocalypse St. ~lohn tells us that he saw an angel who mingled much incense with the prayers of the saints and offered them to God. Prayer, decently offered, is always listened to b~ God, but praye~ fervently offered is more acceptable. Our angels a.re so closely united to us that our needs become.as it were their needs, and our petitions become their petitions; and who can say how often the ardent and undistracted prayer of our angels has obtained for us an.answer to our prayers? And so it g6es all through life. From our births to our deaths these untiring guardians stand ready to protect and 297 ,guide us. The task that began with our entrance into this ¯ life ends only when our souls depart from our bodies. As we prepare to enter the door of eternity the Church prays, "Come forth to meet him, ye angels of the Lord, receive his soul and preser.ve itin the sight of the Most High." As the body is carried to its last resting ,place it is accompanied the words, "May the angels escort thee to Paradise. At. thy c.oming may the martyrs welcome thee, and conduct thee, to the Holy City ~lerusalem. May a choir of angels receive thee, and with Lazarus, once poor, mayest thou have rest everlasting." After Death ". Strictly speaking, after the last great battle on our behalf against the powers of darkness the mini,~trations of our guardian angels cease. Now we are beyond the power to be helped by them or to be harmed by the evil spirits. Our course, is run, and all that remains is the decision of the ,ludge. But though their work as guardians is. completed. we can hardly imagine that those who have been so close to us for so many years and who have had such an interest in us will cease to .care for us. To the Throne of God they lead th~ souls of their charges. There they step ~side while the ,Iudge pronounces sentence. If the sentence be Purgatory, once more the angels take up the souls and bear them to that sad prison. Here the souls must remain until their debts .are paid; but it is not unlikely that from time to time they are consoled and encouraged by the visits of their angels. When at last the purified" souls come forth, it is to meet their angels who will lead them to .the company of the Queen of angels and her-Divine Son. What 10ve and hap-piness the soul and its angel will experience°in each Other's company is easy to imagine, for they are now doubIy dear to one another, and together through eternity they will look OUR FRIENDS, THE ANGELS upon the Face of God and marvel at His wisdom that ,united them so intimately. Such then is the way that our Father in heaven has ¯ ordained that our illustrious brothers the angels should assist us in our journey through life. Modern critics call it a pious remnant of pagan superstition, but to anyone who understands the teaching of the Church about the angels it is clear that the Catholic doctrine has no connection with¯ the pagan attempt to explain the mysteries of nature by the workings of capricious; invisible beings. Neither is this teaching a fairy story to delight¯children. As we grow older, life loses many of the pleasant aspects that enter-tained us as Children. We get knocked about and learn hard lessons. But no matter how old or how wise we may become, there always remains the beautiful doctrine of the guardian angels that. thrilled us at seven and consoles usat seventy. How about our side of the picture? How are we to. repay these guardians of ours? To speak of repaying our angels would be to insult them, f6r they act solely because of love, and we, don't repay an act of love with baser cur-rency. But we do have obligations of love, gratitude, and reverence that we cannot dismiss. St. Bernard dwelt upon these duties of ours in one of his sermons; and we can do no .better than to leavethis study of the angels.with his words" in our ears: "What respect this do~trine of the guardian angels should arouse in you, what devotion it should pro-duce, what confidence it should inspire. Respect for their presence, devotionto their unselfish love, confidence in their watchfulness. Wherever you may lodge, or in whatever retired place you may be, respect your angel. Will you dare to do in his presence what you would not dare do before me~ Do you doubt that he whom you do not see is present? Then let us be faithful, let us be grateful to such guardians. 299 CLEMENT ANDLAU'ER They never fail us, they are wise, they are powerful; what' shall we fear? And so, brethren, in God let us love His angels affectionately as our co-heirsin the future and as our protectors and teachers, placed over us by our Father, in this life." PAMPHLET NOTICES In Novena to Our L~dd~ of Victor~ , the Reverend Raymond A. Panda has ar-ranged a number of very appropriate prayers and hymns for congregational 'use. The pamphlet bears the Imprimatur of the Archbishop of Milwaukee: is published by Lawrence N. Daleiden and Co., 218 West Madison St., Chicago, I11. NO price given on our review copy. The Ser~,ant of God. Brother Meinrad Euester O.$.B. is the simple story of the lif~ of a Benedictine Lay Brother whose cause for beatification has been inaugu-rated. 32 pages. For further ir~formation, write tothe Grail, St. Meinrad. Indiana. The Militant~ Christian Vir',des by the very Reverend Ignatius Smith. O.P. is a reprint of an article that appeared in the s~:holarly Dominican Quarterly, The Thomist. Father Smith gives~a compact synthesis of the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas on the stern Christian virtues, particularly of.vindictive justice, just anger, righteous indignation, and virtuous contempt 0f crime. These things, contends the author, demand~study now and practic~ both now and in'the peace that is to follow this war. The pamphlet contains~,a brief discussion outlin.¢, and a large number of references tothe works of St. Thomas. 32 pages: sells for 5 cents a single copy, 50 copies for $2.25, 100 copies for $4,00, postage extra in each case. Write to the National Catholic Welfare Conference,, 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, N. W., Washington. D. C. 300 Pa :rio :ic Obedience, in Time o1: War John C. Ford, S.J. IN .THE Catholic scheme .of things all lawful authority comes ultimateiy frdm God. The civil rulers of peoples, whether they be kings or premiers of presidents, whether the~, believe in God or not, and whether they keep His law or'not, are nevertheless His ministers when they act within the bound~ of their a~uthority. St. Paul is not speaking of believers, but of the pagan rulers of his day when he exhorts Christians thus: "Let everyone be subject to the higher authority, for there exists no authority except from God, and those who exist have been appointed by God" (Romans 13, 1). And St. Peter likewise: "Be subject to every human creature for God's sake, whether to the king .as supreme, or to governors as sent through him for vengeance on evil-doers and for the praise of the good. For such is the will of God that by doing go6d you should 13ut to silence the ignorance of foolish men. Live as freemen, yet not using your freedom as a cloak of malice but as servants of God. Honor all men; love the brotherhood: fear God; h6nor the king" (I Peter 2, 13-17). And Our Lord Himself upheld the authority of the Scribes and Pharisees even while He rebuked them, saying: '~The Scribes and the Pharisees have sat on the chair of Moses. All things, therefore, that they .1Father Ford originally wrote this article at the request of the editors of the Boston. Traoeler. It first appeare~d in that publication under date of May 26, 1942. It was later reprinted in the Congressional Record, May 28, 1942, page A 2139. We . reprint it here with the permission, of the publishers. We asked permission to reprint it because, though not written specifically for religious, yet its clear statement of the Christian duties of Obedience and Patr,otism will undoubtedly be Of use to our readers whether for personal meditation or in their apostolic miaistriea.~ED. 301 JOHN C. FOP.D command you, 6bserve and do. But do not act according to their works. " (Matthew 23, 2-3). Citizens, especially in a-democracy, have th~ right and the duty to inquire into the government's policy, to criticize it, to make efforts under.the laws and the Constitution to change it if they disapprove ot~ it. But if they want to prac-tice the Christian virtue of civil Obedience they cannot do any of these things in.a rebellious spirit. They cannot be . so disposed that they intend to disobey when they disap-prove. The obedience of a reasonable man is not blind. No virtue can ignore truth. If I know that something is black I cannot say it is white. But obedience does not depend on speculative approval of commands or the poli-cies behind them. Mu~h less does it depend on approval of the tiersonal characters of those in authority. Obedience sees the authority of God in the ruler. It is the first prin-ciple of united action under lawful authority/. During war time united action is absolutely indispen-sable. And it can be h~d only at the price of sacrifices and h~ardships which will increase rather than decrease as the war goes on. The practice of obedience, then, becomes more difficult just when it becomes most imperative. And if dutiful submission to the cold claims of obedience were our only principle we might easily fail to live up to its ¯ requirements. But there ii another virtue which God has placed in our hearts, the virtue of patriotiim. ~A-new book has juit been published in Boston by the Stratford Company: National Patriotism in Papal Teaching, by Father John Wright. It is an intensely interesting and ,timely work. -The moral pronouncements of the modern Popes on the virtue of patriotism have steered a middle course. That. excessive patriotism which degenerates into nationalism or racism ,is condemned. But condemned likewise is~ the 302 PATRIOTIC OBEDIENCE IN TIME OF opposite error, that a preferential love of one's own country is incompatible ~ith international peace. True patriotism is a well-ordered love of one's fatherland. We are bound, says Benedict XV, to love with asp, ecial attachment thosd with whom we share a commonfatherland. Instinct itself tells us to turn to the fatherland as ~the source of those 'rich cuItural blessings which we have received precisdy because " we are Americans and not of any other nation. True patriotism is part of'the virtue of charity and like religion itself, says Leo XIII, is one Of the ~"two duties of the firit order from which no man in this life can exempt himself," --the love of God and the love of c6untry. Cardinal O'Connell echoed this Papal teaching in his~ Easter message this year when he said: "What America offers and gives and maintains for her citizens is a treasure so pr~ious that it is Sacred. The preservation of that heritage is to every American a sacred trust, and with the possession of that trust goes the sacred obligation to pre-serve, defend, and perpetuate it. That is the meaning, of true patriotism. The defense of our altars and our homes is an bblig'ation which rests upon "e3rery citizen." It is not hard°to obey when,we love what is com-manded. When the motive of sincere love of country.~s added to "the motive of obedience, burdens that otherwise would seem unsuppbr~able become easy to bear. Love con-quers all things. It is a duty theref0re~ to foster this true love of our own United States of America, so that the natural instinct that attaches us to her will become a delib-erate reasonable love of preference permeating all our civic obligations and changing cold obedience to deycoted service. Tru~ patriotism does not mean flag waving. It does not include hatred of other' nations, whether enemies or allies. Nor does it necessarily include love of the admin~s- ¯ 303 JOH~ C. FO~ tration. Administrations come and go. The fatherland endures. But patriotism does e~njoin respect for the execu-tives whom we have chosen to ~atch over our native land. Above all patriotism does not go about shouting: My country, right or wrong! Like obedience it is not a blind but a reasonable virtue. It faces whatever facts there are, and admits the unpleasant ones when they are really facts. But when the love of country ' and fellow countrymen is true and deep, it is. strong enough to stand the strain that. may be put upon it .by governmental policies, or what appear to us t.o be official mistakes. And so in time of war especially there should be a mini-mum of captious criticism of officialdom." We are now fighting for our life. The. heritage of America is at stake. Only united action will preserve it. For we are fighting enemies who are powerful and skilled and "who are also the enemies of all international law and .justice'"- (Cardinal O'Connell). I have often heard the objection made that some of our allies are also the enemies of all international law and jus-tice. Russia is meant. This is undoubtedly a fact and an. ¯ unpleasant one. Russia is not fighting in order to preserve the American way of life.She is fighting, naturally enough, to preserve her own, way of life, which at the moment is the way of totalitarian dictatorship. Com-munistic Russia. is anti-democratic, anti-Christian, and anti-God. " Her principles, therefore, are the very opposite of all that we.mean by American democracy. It would be dangerous folly to close our eyes to this truth. But true patriotism does not have to close its eyes. Those who love their country with true devotion will face the facts realisti-cally, and will not love her any the less because of the cruel n~cessity that has forded her to make such an ally. The American who really loves his country will recognize that 3O4 P&TRIOTIC OBEDIENCE IN TIME OF nedessit.y, will work with all his heart for our own Ameri-" can way of life, and guard it ceaselessly against the insidious infiltration of principles that would destroy it. It is obvious that in a nation as great and diversified as ours, and in a war like this one, absolute harmony of views cannot be expected. There are bound to be differences of opinion as to methods and aims. And so our hope of. united action must be based on something higher, stronger, and more universal than our'individual opinions. I find that higher principle in the obligatory character of the Christian virtues of obedience and patriotism: They teach us to recognize the authority of God Himself in our rulerS, and to respond to an.instinct that God has placed in our hearts by loving with a special 10re the land that gave us birth. When motivated by these virtues even war-like efforts. can be directed too.Almighty God. And indeed if we are to master the unhappy fact of war, rather than allow it to -master us; if we are to keep' it from dehumanizing and brutahzmg us,. as it easily could, we must find something spiritual and Christianizing~in it. The practice of patriotic obedience .out of supernatural motives is the Christian answer to the challenge of war. BOOKS ON TRIAL !~oohs or~ Trial is a review of book-reviews, published periodically by The Thomas More Book Shop. 22 West Monroe Street, Chicago, I11. It promises to be an immense; help to librarians who are desirous of getting "clean, wholesome, and meritorious books." Such is the object of the publishers. A genuine Catholic Action project, it deserves cooperation¯ For further information write to the publishers. 305 The SupernaEural Lit:e G. Augustine Ellard, S.3. THE supernatural life may be defined as a participation~ in the intimate life of God and 'eventually in that form of beatitude which is peculiar to the Blessed Trinity. Every Christian knows that. there are communications of life within God. The Father begets the Son intellec-tuallyo and gives Him the whole of the divine life. In turn the Father and the Son produce the Holy Spirit and give Him also the whole'of the divine life. There the communi-cations of the divine life might have ceased. But, most graciously and generously, the Divine Persons decided that they wouldgrant a sl~are in that life to angels and men After Adam and Eve had received it and lost it again for themselves and their posterity, the Incarnation of the Son was devised as the gland means of.restoring it to men. Thus to the Incarnation of God there corresponds a certain deifi-cation or divinization of men. It is this deification of men which we hope to explain somewhat in this article. Life in general may be described as the power of self-motion. The acts that characterize life begin from within. Where no such activity can be discerned, it is concluded that no life is present. Thus, if a man were noticed not to initiate any movement whatsoever, not even a l~eart-.bea~t or a respiration, he would be pronounced dead. Besides beginning from within, vital activity, at least if it be nor-mal, generally produces .an effect within the agent also, and indeed for the better. Every heart-beat or respiration leaves one a little better than one would be without it. Hence, life may also be said to consist in the power of self-perfection. Only living things can make. themselves more perfect. This d~finition is not quite suitable for God. He 306 THE SUPERNATUK~L does not change, nor can He become more perfect. Div.ine life is that excellence in God whereby, in accordance with His nature, He acts, and by this activity is perfect. In everything that lives, we can distinguish the sub-stance or nature, which is fundamental; thevital powers or faculties by which it acts or moves and perfects itself;-and lastly, vital activity itself. To illustrate: when a man is sound asleep the whole of his substance or nature--body plus soul--is there, resting; his power to see, for example, is suspended; when he awakens again, he will actually see. Degrees of Natural Life Of life that is natural, that is, proportionate to the nature of the being in which, it is found, we know of five grades or degrees; They are: vegetative, animal, human: 'angelic, and divine life. All members of the vegetative kingdom show their powers of Self-motion by nourishing themselves, by growing, and by reproducing their kind. 'Besides having these three functions, animals can also move about freely, and especially they have the life of knowledge that comes through the five senses, and the ~corre.~ponding life of the sense:appetites. In the light of that knowledge they. experi-erice various emotions and desires, and regulate their move.- merits. Men have all the vital functions of plants andanimals. and in addition they have the life of reason and of the will. This is their characteristic mark and that which raises them incomparably above mere animals. Thus far the ~radation is clear and neat. In the purely spiritual realm we find two natural forms of life, the angelic anal the divine. Purely spiritual life has only two great functions, intelligence and volition. In contrast to men, who are said to be. rational, because they come to most of G.AUGUSTINE ELLARD their knowledge by reasoning, that is, by proceedii~g from premises to conclusions, the angels have intuition, that is, a - simple, direct, view of things, even of spiritual realities and truths. Whereas,we can have only an indirect knowledge of spirits and spiritual things, the angels see them as easity and immediately as men perceive one another. Immeasurably above angelic life is the fifth and final grade of natural life, that of God Himself. Being purely spiritual, it also consists in understanding and Willing. But whereas that of angels is limited, the intelligence and will of God are irifinite. They must have corresponding and pro-portionate objects which they alone can reach. As a matter of fact, these too are infinite. Thus the divine intellect has an infinite :intuition or view of all truth, infinite and finite. This is followed immediately by a similar infinite love of all goodness, and by a like fruition of all. beaaty. These three great acts, vision; love, and fruition, of the Infinite, and of all that is finite, constitute the inner life and beati-tude of God. If God had chosen not to create a world, they would make we 'learn that the up'the whole life inner life of God Infinite vision of infinite truth in infinite word or mental expression the Son. Infinite love of the infinite of God. By revelation is not quite so simple. the Father begets an of that truth, that is, goodness in the Father and Son produce the Holy Spirit, the term of that love. Thus, in spite 6f the absolute simplicity of God, there is in the one divine nature a trinity of persons, and though God ~s. umque and w,thout equal,, there is a~certain companion-ship in the oneIDeity. What we may call the external life of God consisti in creating a.nd governing the world, and it culminates in sanctifying and beatifying angels and men. These are all the natural forms of life. We might 'sus-pect that none other is possible. But by faith we come to know of asixth form, which, however, is not nataral, but 308 THE SUVERI~ATURKL L11:~_ su15ernatural. It does not come, from within, .but is super- . added from above; it is s uperhuma, n ,an d even superangelic. Supernatural Life Men can, to some .extent and in~, an external way, "elevate" lower forms of life. By skilful cultivation.or by using special artificial means, they can enable plants to bring, forth more beautiful flowers or bettei fruits than those ,plants left to themselves could produce. In this con-nection the processes of grafting are particularly note-worthy; by them new and very excellent kinds of fruit can be obtained. In grafting there is a real composition of diverse forms of life.' Domestic animals are advanced in various ways by human aid. As things are now, milady's little poodle lives in a.warm dry apartment, without effort on his part receives at regular intervals just the right quality and quantity of scientifically manufactured dog-food, and sleeps,in a comfortable little bed of his own; and if he should be injured or fall sick, he would be taken off to the dog-hospital and enjoy the refinements of modern veteri-nary medicine and surgery. In a porely natural state he would have no protection from the elements, he would eat what he could catch, if he could catch it, and, when he could catch.it; and if anything serious happened to him, he w.ould have to linger in his pain until death released him, coming perhaps 'in the form of a stronger animal to devour him: Among men, a king may m~arry a commoner and raise her to royal rank and dignity. A wealthy man may adopt as his son and heir a penniless orphan. The learned can share their learning and intellectual satisfactions with the, unlearned. In all these cases there is a certain, elevation of one's plane of life, and a participation in the life of~those who have been living on a higher plane. What men cannot do to lower forms of life is to elevate them internally, that is, to give them a new. kind of intrinsic'vital power. 309 AUGUSTINE ~-LLARD If a mere.plant could be made, for example, to see, like. a dog, that vision would be supernatural in the plant, though it is natural in a dog. If a dog could be made to reason, like a man, that reasoning would .be supernatural in the dog, as it is natural in a ',man. If a man should be enabled to perceive spirits as angels do, that perception would be supernatural in the man, .as. it would be natural in an angel. Now then, if a man could by some special dispensation be given the power to do-something that is characteristic of the Divine Persons and peculiar to them-- for instance, to have an intuition of the divine essence--that again would be supernatural in the man, as it would. be natural ,in the Trinity. Such an intuition would be supernatural in an angel also. Participation in a vital perfecti~on belonging to a higher creatable nature, for example, for a man to hold converse with an angel, as was granted to St. Francis of Rome, is said to be supernatural in the relative sense. Participation in a perfection belonging only to the. uncreated and ~divine, nature, for example, immediate vision of the Divinity~ is called supernatural in the absolute sense, This is the meaning which we shall attach to '!supernatural" hereafter in this article, Now it should not' be difficult to see what ismeant by the supernatural life. It consists simply in this, that by a peculiar exercise of omnipotence and of divine munificence, God enables men and angels to share in those three great vital functions which are natural only in the~Divine Per-sons. Men are made to participate in that kin.d of life~ and eventually in that kind of beatitude, which are naturally characteristic only of God himself. They are empowered to have a direct view~ of Infinite Truth itself; a corresponding love of the Infinite Goodness, and a similar fruition of the Infinite Beauty,~ Thus they' have a share.in the life and beatitude of the Blessed Trinity. That they :do so, is very. 310 THE SUPEI~NATURAIL LIFE clear at least for the Blessed~iia heaven. They possess the supernatural life in its :full development, in its maturity. Only in the light of this s~age of it; can it be well under-stood. One could more easily judge, of trees from their seeds or animals from their embryos than understand the supernatural life by studying it merely in its first and lowes~ form. Beatitude If we compare the supernatural life in its beatific stage with .God's own life, we Shall note certain likenesses and certain differences. In general, the objects are the same. It is the same Infinite Truth which is seen and contemplated by God and the Blessed. The same Infinite Goodness is loved by God and the Blessed. It is the same.Infinite Beauty that enraptures both God and the Blessed. But in God the vision itself is infinite and comprehensive or exhaustive, whereas in the Blessed their act of vision is finite and not exhaustive. Similarly', in God love and fruition are unlimited, but in the Blessed these acts are limited and pro-portionate to their vision. In the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit there is the plenitude of the divine life and beatitude: in the beatified, a participation of that life ;,rid beatitude. They have the same thing, but not in its fulness. "Their participation may be compared to the share tha~ the First Lady of the Land has in the dignity of the President, or to the part that a son has in the wealth and station of his father, or to the sharing of pupils in their teacher's learning. In God there is the original, so to speak, of the divine life: in those in heaven with Him, a copy, li~teness, or assimila-tion to that original. In God, vision, enjoyment, and love are natural and all substantially identified with the divine essence; in men or angels these acts are graciously super-added to their natures, and they are not substantial. What 311 G, AUGUSTINE ELL/~D ~God has of Himself and by nature, the beatified have by favor and grace. Man becomes an adoptive son of God, but not a natural Son, like the Word. Deiform beatitude is incomparab!y superior to natural angelic beatitude. The angels who are in heaven now do, as a matter of fact, enjoy supernatural bliss. They have it because they were gratuitously raised to the supernatural order, like men, with the .gift of sanctifying grace. If they had not received it and if in their period of probation they had remained good, they would now be in a state of natural angelic beatitude. In that condition their knowledge, love, and enjoyment of the Supreme Tr~th, Goodness, and Beauty would be mediate, that is through a medium (their "own essences); and though it would be an inexpressibly happy state, there would be nothing in it of the imme-diate vision of God which they now have and which makes them immensely more blessed. Of course their love also would be of another kind, and so would their enjoyment of the divine beauty. The greatest angel that God in all His ¯ omnipotence could create, endowed with all possible gifts and privileges except grace, and .given the highest possible measure of the beatitude that would be natural to an angel, would indeed be inconceivably happy, but immeasurably below any creature enjoying the minimum of God's own special kind of bliss and glory. Likewise, if men had not. been elevated to the super-natural order and destiny, and if throughout their proba-tion they had remained morally good, after death they would be admitted to a state of natural human beatitude, that is,¯ happiness proportionate to the capacities and merits of human nature. They would be united to God. through knowledge, love, and fruition. But this knowledge, being in accordance with the nature of the human, spirit, would be rational, abstractive, discursive. They would 312 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE know the Creator, not', directly and immediately or from Himself, but from His works and effe,cts. Given such~ and such artistry, the Artist who made it all must be as perfect and lovely and admirable, and even more so. And of course their love of God arid their enjoyment of His beauty could not go beyond the limits and character of their knowledge. The relations of man to God would be different from what they are now:~ he would not be a son, nor a~friend, nor a spouse of God. But natural bumanbeatitude would still be beatitude, and it is well to try tO suspect to'some incipient extent what that means. Even-naturally the human mind and soui have certain capacities and needs and longings for the Infinite; that is why no quantity and no quality of cre-ated goods, however great, can satisfy the human heart. any form of beatitude all aspirations and desires would have to be satiated, and completely so. O~ie would kn~w everything that one would like to know--think of how much that would be, and what an intense thrill it would bring! and one would have everything that his heart could desire. Any kind ofbeatitude would involve perfect satisfaction, and that forever. Since in this mad world we can never have anything even remotely like. a beatific experience, the onIy way in which we can attempt to gain some slight inkling of what it would feel like to be enjoying beatitude, is to gather together in thought all the pleasures and joyful experi-ences that we have ever had, to add to them all the possible delights that we can imagine, and then say, "After all, beatitude is something incomparably grehter and grander' and more glorious than all that!" To possess angelic beatitude would be something marvelously greater still! What then must it be to share in the inconceivable divine beatitude of the most Blessed Trin;ty! "What eye hath 313 G, AUGUSTINE ELLARD not ~seen, nor ear bath heard--what hath. not entered into the heart of man--all these things hath God prepared for them that love him" (I.Corinthians 2:9). Grace, the Seed o: Glor'~t The supernatural life, or the process of deification, exists in two stages of evolution. The fully developed or mature stage is found in the Blessed in heaven; the other, still imperfectly, developed and still immature, is found the Just, that is,. in those who are adorned with sanctifying grace in this world. Fundamentally it is the same life that animates both, even though the observable ~differences may lead one to think the contrary. "Behold what manner of love the Father hath given us, that we should be called children-of God; and. such we are . Beloved, now we are ~hildren of God, and it.hath not yet been manifested what we shall be. We know that if he be manifested, we shall be like him, because we shall see him even as he is" (I John 3:1, 2). "Grace is the seed of glory." That one and the same life can present very diverse appearances, is easily shown from biology. Compare, say, an orange seed germinating in the ground and the beautiful blossoming orange tree that it will be in due time; or the ugly caterpillar crawling in the dusl~ and the lovely butter-fly flitting, about later; or the tadpole and the frog; or, the .case that pleased St. Theresa .so much; the repulsive silk-worm and the delightful little white moth. Do little birds that are. just breaking out of their tiny eggs have that kind of life that is characterized by flight? There is sometl~ing analogous in every human life. Is there reason, in a little child or infant? Evidently in some sense there is. Other-wise, he would not be a little rational animal nor possess human dignity .nor have rights nor be the term of obliga-tions on the part of others. One may go further and point out that there is identity of life in a perfect man and in the microscopic little embryo in his mother's womb that once was he. When the child grows up, he will still be the same being, the same person: and, though his life will b~ different enough, it will not, be another life. Reason is there, but it is latent, undeveloped, not yet full-grown. Ttiough he cannot reason now, before long he will; and notice that every normal act by which his development° is p~omoted contributes to bringing about his full-fledged life of intelligence. So a man with sanctifying.grace in this life cannot see God now, but with every act that increases that grace, his power 'to behold and to enjoy God in eternity is enhanced. In the life Of the Blessed in heaven and ~he life of the ~lust on earth, the fundamental principle from which all activity issues is the same, namely, sanctifying grace. The infused virtues, thequasi-faculties by which that activity is exer-cised, are the same, except that ih the case of the Blessed,~ in place of faith and hope, there is the "light of glory." This is the highest and last grace to be received, and upon its rece~ion beatific life at once begins. The "light of glory" is a participation in tlie intellectuality of God, immediately ~enabling one to contemplate the Infinite. It is often com-pared to a telescope or microscope. The activities of the Bleised and of the 3ust are of course different, but inti-mately related. Even here, in faith there is a certain pa~r~ ticipation in the divine knowledge that no creature could attain by any natural effort; acquaintance with the mystery of the Trinity is an instance of it. Corresponding to actual possession of God in heaven there ~is here, in the virtue of hope, a right 'to that possession and a happy anticipatiofi of it: neither of these could be natural in any creature. The same.charity persists'throughout both stages of thd super-natural life. Between the beatific acts of those in heaven 315 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD and the supernatural acts of the 2ust there is a certain com-munityor propor~tion, an identity in being or, so to speak, in material, invirtue ofwhich every ~ supernatural act per-formed here is a preparation for beatific activity or, an increase of it. Every meritorious act nbw means more of the vision: of God ineternity. It is to establish this com-munity or proportion in super-nature between super, natural acts here and divinely beatific activity there; that supernatural grace is absolutely necessary for every salutary act. "Without me you can do nothing" (John-15:5). Difference between Natural and Supernatural Suppose that ~ man and a horse are looking at the same thing: the physiological processes of vision, in eyes,, nerves, ' and br~iin, will be about the same in both. In the horse there will not be more than the sensation of vision, but the man the vision will be immediately: and naturally fol- Idwed up by a spiritual idea, immensely different in being and'character from the horse's or even the man's phantasm. In some similar way, in the natural man, not elevated by grace, there will not be more than his natural acts, whereas in the supernaturalized man acts which appear to.be the same or nearly the same will be followed up eventually and, , as it were, naturally, by beatific acts like those which con-stitute no l~ss than the beatitude of God. Grace really gives men a new and fourth kind of life, and to the~ angels a sec-ond kind': a deified life. A fervent supernatural man may wonder why, if thus there be divinity in his acts,, why in fact, if he be, so to speak,, full of divinity, he.does not feel conscious of it. If he did, his life of faith would be quite different. He has to take it on faith, like the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, that his supernatural acts are immensely different from his natural acts. All human knowledge',comes through ~the 316 THE SUPERNATURAL! LIFE senses; we have no di'rectapprehension of spiritual realities. Even the spirituality of the human soul is not perceived, but proved by reasoning from thechara~t~r of its acts! It still more impossible to experience spiritual realities that are supernatural~ and just because they are supernatural. Cer-tain mystics, namely those who. are in the state termed technically~'"the mystical marriage," are said to experience habitually the fact that their, supernatural activity is a par-ticipation in the life and activity of God. Unconsciousness of a gift is no sign that'it does not exist or is not present. ~A baby boy born to the Queen of England wofild have royal dignit~r of the first magnitude ~ind immense imperial rights, and at the same time know nothing of them. Some years' ago the Dionne quintuplets possessed an absolutely unique distinction, to say nothing bf much money, and they were the cynosure of world-wide attention. but it all mhde slight, difference in their little consciousnesses. Wherever there is a distinct sort of life, there must also be a differencd of underlying structure. If the activities or functions, that is, the physiology, be different, there must also be an anatomical difference. Elephants and mice can-not have the .same joys and sorrows. Neither can rabbits and eagles, nor alligators and kangaroos. N0~ Can men with rational souls and animal~ without them. -Men with the experiences of the supernatural life and men without them cannot be just the same in structure. Elernents of Supernatural Organism Theologians generally consider that there are fifteen elements in the permanent organism or mechanism of the, supernatural life. Among these sanctifying grace is first and fundamental. Sanctifying grace is best conc~:,ved as a participation in the divine nature, that 'is, in what we dis- 317 G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD tinguisff as the fundamental principle of vital activity~ God. .It is to the supernatural life approximately human nature (body plus soul) is to our naturalhfiman life. It is the Substratum or basis or root, out of which everything in the supernatural life somehow "comes. It often compared to the soul: as the soul is the principle human life, so sanctifying grace is~ the primary internal principle of the supernatural life. One who has it will also have everything else. Every living nature must have vital power~ or facul-, ties also. For example, dogs have the power to see, hear, and so on, even when they are not exercising those powers ¯ because, say, they are asleep. Men have power to think and will, even when they are not using those faculties. The faculties of. the supernatural life are the infused virtues. They give one the permanent power to act supernaturally, in a way that is ¯somehow divine. They are not, like natural virtues, dispositions acquired by practice, to act with readiness and facility. They are really new powers do something quite different and superigr. Commonly seven infused virtues are enumerated, three theological and ~four moral. Activity of the theological virtues unites one directly with God. Faith is the intellectual theological virtue, ,faculty of. knowing supernaturally. It gives one ~ participa-tion in knowledge that is peculiar to God and naturally not accessible. In the light of it, the supernatural life is intel- ,ligently, consciously, and freely lived. Hope makes it pos-sible to desire and to seek the Supreme Good in a way that is supernatural. It gives one a sort of anticipated .possession of God and the beatific life. "Whoso hath this hope on him, halloweth himself, even as he is hallowed" (I John 3:3). Charity enables one to love the Infinite Goodness supern~aturally; and is a participation in God's own mode 318 THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE of loving. Without, it one could still love God, but naturally, not supernaturally. The infused moral vir-tues-- prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude--give one the power to use creatures rightly and in a way that is positively conducive to the beatific vision of God. The gifts of the Holy Spirit~wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord --are so many more permanent super-faculties. They dis-pose one to follow the i~stinct and motion of the Holy Spirit, as the infused moral virtues dispose one to follow the dictates of reason enlightened and elevated by faith'. The gifts are more passive than.the virtues, and their opera-tion as contrasted with that of the virtues is often likened to that of wind upon the sails of a ship, whereas exercising the virtues would be like rowing. The effect of the gifts, at least when highly developed, may be compared to the incommunicable skill of a genius in music: he can teach the technique---corresponding to the.virtues---~but that super-ior, indefinable, something that comes with genius he can- -not impart tb another. In the more advanced degrees of sanctity and contemplat.ion the gifts are especially active and important. ¯ Actual grace, is the counterl~art to activity in the natural life. It puts a certain divinity into one's activity. Unlike the forms of grace hitherto considered, it is not a habit, not something permanent. Like any particular form of activity, it comes and goes. Hence it cannot be found in a sleeping person, for example, nor in a baptized-infant, nor in the mentally deranged. As sound stimulates one's ears to hear, prevenient actual grace comes, when the oc-casion i~ apt to stimulate one's natural and supernatural faculties into action. !t arouses, or consists in, such ideas in the mind and indeliberate impulses in the will as are conducive to one's spiritual advancement. In this sense G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD actual grace enters into consciousness, whereas none of the other kirids of grace do. Where there is no. thinking or willing that makes for salvation, there is no actual grace at work. If then one respbnd to the stimulation, consent of the will 'and execution of the decision are made with the help of c~oncomitant actual grace. Since consent is from the will, it is vital, free, and human; since it is also from grace, it is divinized. Grace makes one think and will, like God. An example may .help to illustrate the functioning of grace. Suppose that Doctors A and B, while driving in the coun.try, happen to come upon a man who has just been seriously wounded in an accident.and is lying in great dis-tress beside the highway. This is the apt occasion. Dr. A is an agnostic, but a kindly man, whereas Dr. B is a devout Catholic and in the state of grace. It is proper that the doctors should do what they can for the injured man, whether they will be paid for it or not. Such is the fact: so God judges and wills. In this simple case, naturally and without grace, any kind-hearted man could make the same judgment and-feel inclined to give his aid. Dr. A responds to the occasion generously; and his. act is one of natural nobility. It may even be said that he judges and wills as God does. But it is all in the natural order, there is no divine entity in it, and he cannot expect as a result an increase of the beatific vision. Dr. B joinsDr. A in helping the man. Presumably his acts, apparently similar to Dr. A's, will be supernaturalized by grace. If his motive be supernatural, they certainly will. Then grace will enter into the acts of mind and will by which he sees the need of giving aid and feels inclined to give° it, Thus far prevenient grace in some sense will be at work. ~ Then he would &lib-erately decide to help the injured man, and this decision would be made with concomitant grace. The appropriate infused virtues or gifts, in this case at least charity.and pru- 32O THE SUPERNATURAL LIFE dence, would be operative, andthe whole process would be sustained and dignified by sanctifying grace. Dr. B's acts of judgment and will would be like' God's, not only in their character as judgments or volitions, but also in the very entity which constitutes them and places them in the order of being of the beatific vision. The contrast between a super-natural actand a natural act may becompared,to the differ-ence between a consecrated host and one that is not conse-crated. Though there may be little or no observable dif- "ference, the real, interior difference is very great indeed and is known, not ~by experience, but by faith. Conclusion Thus far little or nothing has been said about what we might call the properties of the supernatural life: the dig-. nity that belongs to an adopted child of God, the plane of intimacy with God on which such a ~child is entitled,~to live, membership in the Mystica! Body of Christ, and so forth. Nor have we given a complete idea of the workings.of ac-tual grace. For the adequate portrayal of the supernatfiral life in all its pha~es, a treatment of these subjects v~ould be necessary: but this treatment Would take Us far bey.ond.the limits set for the present article. However, one practical and valuable conclusion may well be mentioned here. Granted that the supernatural life is a real participation in the life and activity proper to God, it is easy to see what its supreme law must be: to imitate G6d, as far as possible; to think and judge ~nd will as He thinks and,judges and wills; and to ~ooperate with Him,in carrying out, as far as depends on us, His most magnificent cosmic plan, for His eternal glory and for the deiform beati-tude of His rational creatures. 321 Supplying Days of Absence I:rorn t:he Novifiat:e Adam C. Ellis, S.2. THE CI-IURCH is very solicitous about the proper training of novices in the religious life. Hence she demands of all religious institutes that they devote at least'one entire year to the spiritual formation of candidates before the profession of vows, and this canonical ~tear of novitiate is a requisite for the validity of the first profession of temporary vows (cf. canons 555 and 572). An absence of more than thirty darts interrupts the canonical year, and the novitiate must ,be started over, even though the novice remained outside the novitiate house with the permission of superiors and for grave reasons (cf. canon 556, § 1). When the days of absence do not exceed thirty it is desirable, and in some cases necessary, that they be supplied before the profession of first, vows. Here is the text of the Code regardihg such da~s of absence: "If the novice, with the permission of superiors or constrained by force, has p~ssed more than fifteen days but not more than thirty days even interruptedly outside the precincts of the house under the obedience of the superior, it is necessary and sufficient for the vdidlty of the novitiate t~at he supp|y the number of days so passed outside; if for a period not exceedincj fifteen days, the supplementing for this period can be pr~escribed by superiors, but it is not necessary for validity."~ How are darts "of absen~ ~ountecl? Canon 32, n. 1 tells us that a day consists of 2"4 hours counting contin.uously from midnight, to .midnight. Hence parts of days are not counted as canonical days. If a novice goes toa hospital on Monday motrting, and returns to the novitiate on Saturday afternoon of the same week, he has been absent for four days'only. Monday and Saturday are not counted since 322 ^~SENC~ FRO~ Novm^~ ¯the absenceon those days did not amount to a period of 24 hours counting from midnight to midnight. When must the days of absence be supplied? When they.exceed fifteen, but are not over thirty. Hence if a novice has been absent 'exactly fifteen days, it is not required for the validity of the subsequent profession, that' these days be supplied. However, it is well to note h~re that. all days of absence, whether continuous or not, must be counted. Every period of absence ~from midriight to mid- ~ night counts as a day of absence, even though these periods of absence be separated by months. How many days of absence must be Supplied? If the novice has been absent more than fifteen days; all the days of absence must be supplied. Thus, if a novite had been absent twenty days, it would not suffice to make up five days. The total number of days of absenceS'must be sup~ plied before the novice can make a valid profession. Are there am.! exceptions? No, there are not. Even though the novice is absent with the permission of his superior or constrained by force, the days of absence must be counted. Thus,' if the novices have a villh in which they spend some days during the~ summei together with the master ot~ novices, these days are counted as days o.f absence, since a villa is not a novitiate house. On the other hand'a distinction must be made between the novitiate house" arid the novitiate proper, or that part of the house which is destined for the exclusive use of the novices. The canon says that days spent outside the novitate house, must be supplied; it does not say that days spent outside th~ pre-cincts of the novitiate must be supplied, if the novice. remains in the house in which the novitiate is located., For, example, if a novice who is seriously ill is transferred from the novitiate quarters to the community infirmary which is located in another part of the house, the days spent in the 323 ADAM C. ELLIS ° ¯ infirmary outside the novitiate quarters would not be counted as days of absence, since he remains in the house in which the novitiate is located. While it is truethat canon 556, § 4 states that the novi-tiate is not interrupted by the transfer of a novice from one novitiate house to another,of the same institute, it is equally true,~ that the days spent on the journey from one novitiate house to another must be counted as days of absence"(cf. Code Commission, July 13, 1930). There. is no contradiction here. It is or~e thing to say that a,novice who has begun his novitiate in one novitiate house of the institute may~ continue that novitiate in another novitiat~ house of the same institute, for instance, in that~ of another province. It is quite a distinct thing to say that.the days spentin traveling from one novitiate house to another mu~st be counted as days of absence from the novitiate. As a matter of fact the novice is,absent from the n6vitiate house while he is making the journey to the second novitiate house,-, hence these days. must be counted, as days of absence. The,, contrary opinion which was held by some authors is no 'longer tenable after the decision of the Code Commission mentioned above. Absence of fifteen days or less. If the numbe~ of days of absence does not exceed fifteen, it is not necessary for the validity of the .subsequent profession~that they be supplied. However, the Code permits the superior to~ prescribe that these days of absence be made up; but not under pain of invalidity of the subsequent profession. The superior not obliged to require the supplying of these days of absence. Thus hemay allow a"novice who has: been absent fourteen days because of illness or for some other just reasoffto take his, vows together with his class a't.the end 6f the canonical year. ¯ " ,' Absence during second ~lear of novitiate. The legisla-,' 324 A~ENCE FROM ~OVITIATJ~ tion of the Code.applies to the first or canbnical year only. It is left to the constitutions of each institute to regulate_' absences.during the second0y(ar of novitiate; The Instruc-tion on the Second Year of Novitiate, issued by the Sacred Congregation of Religious on November 3, ~921, permits the novice to leave the novitiate house-for, training in the wokks of the institute and for the.testing of his capabilities. This permiision is granted, however, only on condition that-the constitutions allow ~the novice to be thus trained and tested in another house of the institute. Furthermore, the Instruction prescribes tha~ the novice must be recalled to the novitiate house at least two months b~fore the day of profession in order that bemay prepare himself properly and strengthen himself in the spirit of his vocation. Conclusion: In this commentary on canon 556, n. 2, wehave stated the requirements of the law regarding the supplying of days of absence~ from the n6.vitiate~ We.,have seen ufider what conditions such~ days of absence must be made up in order that tl~e subsequent profession be valid. In other cases such?days ,,of absence need not be supplied unless superiors so prescribe. Only complete days of 24 bouts, counting from midnight to midnight, are counted as canonical days. V This does not mean that superiors should disregard the spirit of the law which demands that the novices spend the entire ,time of the canonical year in the " novitiate,~. . , ands. undergo the ,strict .tr~aining prescribed in other canons of the Code. To~ allow a novice to spend hours of the day or night outside the novitiate house in the perfbrmance of the works of the institute, or 'in attending classes, is contrary to the' spirit of this legislation, even though these 16eriods of .~absence "do not amount tofull canonical' days, and co~sequdntly are not to be counted i~s days of absence which must be supplied. Such conduct, would be detrimental not qnly to the spiritual wellbeing 325 ¯ ADAMC. ELLIS of the individual novice, but more so to the morale of the institute as a whole0 since the spirit of the institute will be no better than that Of-its individual members. Superiors can promote the welfare of their institute in no better way than by carrying out. the prescriptions' of the Church regarding the novitiate, keeping in mind the spirit of the law, "for the letter kills, but the spirit gives life" (2 Corin-thians 3 : 6). IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENTS (Even if gou don't ordinaril~/ read "'Important Announcements, please read. these;) Subscription-Renewals Our~ next issue (November 15, 1942) will be the last number of Volume I Of the.REVIEW. For the majority of our readers, that will mean the expiration 6f their.subscriptions. If your subscriptign will expire with that number and you intend to renew it, you can do us an immense service bg renewing now. By renewing now,-instead of waiting, you will "help us to take care of the renewals more efficiently and to make 'more accurate cal-culations for the printing of Volume II. Just send your check or a morley order, together with your name and address. Thank gout¯ Back Numbers We can no longer supply a complete set.of back numbers of the REVIEW. The January. ~nd March numbers are entirely out, and .there are only. a few remaining copies of, the othei numbers. Many of our recent subscribers want the back numbers. Perhaps you can help them. If you do not intend to save or bind your, back numbers, you may be willin.g.to give them to these new ~ubscribers. If you wish to do this, you may send the back numbers to us, and we will transfer, them gratis to the new subscribers who have requested them. THE EDITORS. 326 The "New Commandment:" ot: Love Matthew, Germing, S,J. ~'~'HE gospel written by "the disciple whom Jesu~ loved" i| has been styled a spiritual gospel It was so desig-nated already in the time of Clement of Alexandria (i50-220 A.D.). Several reasons may be assigned for thee design.ation,.but the one that is pertinent to this drticle is the fact that St. dohn tells us so.much of the.loveof God,and t14i~ neighbor, and doits so in the very words of our Savior. "A new commandment I give you, that you love one another: that as I have loved you, you also love one another. By. this will all men know that you are my disciples, if you havelove for one another" (,lohn 13: 34, 35). Out'Lord did not me~n that the precept of loving one another had not existed in th~ Old .Law, but that He was giving His disciples a new standard and a new motive in observing it. They were to love. one another as Hehad loved them, that is, with' the same kind of love, thotigh they would not be able to love in tl4d same degree.~ And 'this lo~e was to be a test of their ~a~herence.and loyalty to k Him. Again, "As the Father has loved md[ I also ha're loved you. Abide in my love. If ygu keep my command-ments you will abide in my love, as I also have kept my Father's commandment and abide in his love " This is my commandment that you love one another as. I have loved y6u. Greater love,than this no one has, that one lay down his life for his friends. You are my frieiadsif yoti do the things I command you" (J01~n 15:9, 10,,12-~15). And in his" Epistles the beloved disciple again and again recurs to the subject of 10re love of God and of the breth-ren. "This is the message you have h~ard from the begin-ning, that we sh6uld love one another. He who do~s not 327 MATTHEW GERMING love abides in death. M~r dear children, let us not love in word, neither with the tongue, but in deed and in truth. And this is hi~ commandment, that we. should believe in the name of his Son 'jesus Christ, and love one another, even as 'he gave us commandment. And he who keeps his commandments abides in God, a'nd God in him" (! 'jOhn 3:11, 15, 18, 23, 24). "Beloved, let us love~ofie another, for love is from God . He Who does not love does not know God; for God is love. In this is the lo~;e,~not that we have loved God, but that he has fi'rst lovedus and sent his Sdn a propitiation for bur sins. Beloved, if Godhas so ¯ loved us, we alsoought to love one another" (I ,John 4:7, 8,~10. 11). "Special Import t:or Relioibus There is no mistaking the import and force of these words. Love of one an~other is hot a counsel, of per~fe¢- tion: it is a c0mmandmentin the strict sense of she"word, a commandment which our Savior emphasized by frequent r~petition justas a teacher is wont to emphasize an impor-tant point in a lesson. There is, probably, no. gospel pre-. cept which He incul~ated With ~more frequent and loving insistence than the commandmen~ of love.- This alone"qs clear evidence of its j,.~upreme importance, in the Christian life. For persons, consecratedto God, devoted to H~°~pe-cial~ service and leading a common life,, the importanceof mutual love can hardly be exaggerated.~ It may be said without~ hesitation that th~ ~happiness of"a religi0us~'com-mui4ity depends largely on the practice" of.this-virtue. Brotherly_love in a hotis~means that its members think and speak well ~)f 6ne anothei?, are"kinci and cc~ns{derate and patient in tiae[r relations with or/e another, ever ready to Serve and acc6~fiamodate whenever there is ~eed or .occasion. Where-this ~piritreigns, there reigns the ~ace of Christ~ the peace which the angels announced at His birth ahd 328 which He Himself bequeathed ~to his Apostles when He said: "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. When the members of a community live in charity, they possess this peace of Chiist and experience the. truth of the saying of Holy~ Scripture: "How good and pleasant a thing it is for brethren to dwell together in unity" (Ps. 132). Then they do their best work for the cause of Christ, for their own perfection, for one another and. for the common good. ~ :. I do not mean to say~ that peace and charity remove-all the0hard things'from their path in life. They do not. Hard-ships remain, and difficulties may remain. The religious life is not an easy life for the natural man. This we ought to realize from the start. Of its very." nature the life of the vows involves restrictions that are irksome :at times to flesh and blood, that try a person's good will and,. the strength of that will. Duties and observances, some of which are naturally distasteful, do not disappear ~from a community in which charity prevails, but they 'become easier to comply with. Duties are performed with good will and joy of heart; °difficulties are borne ~as part of the day's work for the love of God by re.~son of the charity of Christ that reigns within and all around the individual members of such a community. On the other hand, when there is not charity in a group~ of religious, large or small', then there is aloofness, suspicion, misunderstanding, carping and faultfinding, each looking out for self. Arid selfishness spells the death 0f brotherly love. Highly important and salutary as mutual love is for our home life in our relations with one another, it is equally so in our dealings with, people of the world. Worldly~ interests as such are a matter of indifference to us religious, but there is one big interest to which none of ~us can be indifferent__the interest~ or interests of Christ and His 329 "MATTHEW GERMING Church~ The expression'is comprehensive'and'apparently vague, but there is nothing vague about its real meaning. It means the spread of the knowled~ge and love of Our Lord 2esus Christ in the minds and hearts of all men. It means the endeavor to do men and women some spiritual good, to make them think and provide for their immortal souls. And ~s men are so constituted' that they are unable~to think of their souls v~hile their bodies are ill or starving, it is our duty sometimes to interest ourselves in their bo, dily wel-fare also. These are the things to which the religious of all active orders in the Church have once fo~ all dedicated their lives, their every effort of soul and body. When duty car-ries us into a vast variety of work, much of which of itself is purely secular in character, we must not become confused in our aims and lose our perspective. Our ultimate purpose in all .things is spiritual. ~'This spiritual purpose ought to ¯ be the~very soul of all our external activity. It need not and cannot alw~iys be present in our thoughts, but'it should never be far removed from them. Now charity, in the sense of kindness of speech and manner and whole conduct, is a powerful means of doing spiritual good to people of every class and condition. It is a means that lies within the reachof every religious, even of the infirm members of a community. They can do much by their gentleness and patience in the way of spreading the good odor of Christ. L~irger opportunities fall to those who are in positions of active duty, whether their work brings them in contact with outsiders or is limited to serv-ices within .the cl6ister, where they meet'only their fellow religious. All can be kind and gracious in speech and man-ner, first of all, to their own--and this is of great impor-tancemand then to everyone else. Externs who know little ofreligious but now and then have occasion to' observe their conduct are decidedly edified 330 THE "NEW COMMANDMENT~' and drawn closer to Christ when they find by actual experi-ence that these men and women in strange garb are invari-ably kind and considerate, speak well of-one another and of other peop.l~e, are patient and forbearing even in trying circumstances, never petty or selfish, peevish or irascible. It is well for religious to remember that persons of the world when coming to a convent or other religious house are all eyes and ears. Some of them are on, the alert co catch a glimpse of the manner in which religious treat one another. They make it a point to observe closely, and they comment freely among themselves and others on what they have observed. Favorable impressions received ¯ add to the esteem in which they hold the religious life and are not seldom the cause or occasion of spiritual good in a variety of,~ways which we,never thought of. They clear awayanti-Catholic prejudice, possibly d~evelop a latent voc~ation to the religious life or the priesthood, bring a heft- ~ tating soul into the true fold, or a negligent Catholic back to the sacraments. Good example in th.e matter of kind-ness rarely fails to produce some beneficial sp!ritual result though this result may never' become known. The foufiders of religious orders were not unmindful of this. Everyone Who has read the life of St. Francis knows that he regarded good example as a Silent sermon. St. Igna- , tius went fully as far as the Poverello of Assisi when in the constitutions of his order he reminded his followers that they ought to accomplish even more good by their example than by their preaching. And St. ,John Baptist de la Salle set dowi~ good example as one of the three principal means by which the religious educator was to exercise his zeal in dealing with his pupils. Don Quite extraordinary for the spiritual influence he exerted over others by his kind ways was St. John Bosco, 331 educator, and founder of two religious congregations in the nineteenth century. He often used kindness as a first ,approach ~to boys and young men whom he wanted to draw to better ways of life. One day. the Cardinal Archbishop of Turin, ' interested dn 3oh~ Bosco's educational ~work, asked him about his methodS. The saint's answer was to ~the effect that it-was necessary, first of all, to interest one-self in the boys and~ their doings. One must be good and kind to them, and thus gain their confidence. "'Gain their c~nfidence, °' muse~l the Cardinal. "How do you get near them?" he inquired. The two were riding in the~Cardi-hal's ~arriage through' the city of Turin. "Is there any place in this0neighborhood," asked 3ohn Bosco, "in'which there is a group of boys? . Plenty of them in the Piazza del. popolo," .replied the Cardinal. And with that he directed th~ driver to go to the square mentioned. Yes; there were the boys playing a game. As soon as the ~:ar-riage stopped,-Don° Bosco stepped out, the Cardinal remaining inside to watch proceedings~. o When" they saw Don Bosc~ appr~oaching, the lads scampered a~ay. Their visitor had foreseen tha~t they would do this, but he was able to hail a few loiteiers, spoke kindly to them, and ~heir favorable reaction soon brought back the whole group. Then he distributed little presents to the urchins, put in a few questions about their game, their fathers and mothers, and so forth, and said abrupt!y: "Com~, boys, cohtinue your game, and let me loin in." Tucking up his cassock he played with them some fifteen minutes. As a seminarian he had been at pains to become an expert playe~ at many ghmes for no other reason than to be ready for .just such occasions as the present one. The boys asked him to stay longer, but he must not keep the Cardinal waiting. Before leaving his Youthful compan-ions, cautiously and in his usual agreeable, manner he spoke 332 THE "NEW COMMANDMENT" to .them about going to church' and to confession, saying their prayers, and so forth. As the boys saw him turn to depart, they quickly formed a double line an~d escorted their guest back to the carriage, which soon drove away amid the cheers of these lusty young ItaliansI. Not all men can do what St: 3ohn Bosco did, but all can learn from him the lesson that in.order to benefit young "people in a spiritual way it is necessary to approach them with a sympathetic attitude, interest oneself in them and tfieir innocent pursuits, and in this way build up confi-dence. ~' Love is in the Will In considering our own charity, we should not think of love as a sentiment, in whatever sense wemay under2 stand this word. In reality true love resides essentially in the will. It may exist with-out any sensible emotion; it may also be highly emotional. This is true of both natural and supernatural love. And the emotion, whether super-natural or natural, may by present but not manifest itself in the sense faculties. Love, I said, resides essentially in the soul. It con-sists therefore in cherishing the person loved, appreciating and esteeming him, wishigg him well and consequently thinking and speaking well of him, .doing him good, .as far as lies in one's power. When we do this for a purely nat-ural reason, our love is of the natural type. If, for exampl.e, we love a fellow religious because ofhis or her gifts of mind or disposition--twit and humor, ability of entertaining and amusing others---our love and esteem of such a one is nat-ural. This means, in the first place, that ,it may merit, no heavenly reward. In order that an action may certainly deserve a reward in heaven, the motive itself of the act, even IAuffra~', Blessed John Bosco, c. 14. , 33'3 MATTHEW GERMING one that is naturally good, must be supernatural. The thought contained in our Blessed Lord's words, "As long as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me," furnishes us such a motive. Secondly, in the case of religious living in community, purely natural 10ve may lead to uncharitableness: For if we associate with those only who are most congenial and entertaining, we shall instinctively avoid others who are less congenial and com-panionable, and this is selfish and may. easily be unchari-table. Brotherly love requires that everyone be agreeable to others to the best of his or her ability. Were Christ our Lord in our midst at recreation time, He would seek out the most lonesome soul in the room, and would comfort and encourage such a one. Our Savior regarded the natural motives one may have for loving others quite insu~cient for His followers. In the Sermon on the Mount we read: "I say to you, love your enemies . that you may be the children'of your Father 'in heaven, who makes l~is sun to rise on the good and the evil, and sends rain on the just and the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward shall-you have? Do not even the publicans do that?" (Matthew 5:44-46). All men are the children of God, adopted brothers and sisters of our Lord ,lesus Christ, destined for eternal happiness. As St. Paul writes in his first epistle to Timothy (2:4), God "wishes all rne"n to be. saved and tO come to the knowledge of the truth" not only Catholics, but non- Catholics too and non-Christians, pagans and infidels all o~¢er the~world. Not all are in actual possessio.n of sancti-fying grace, or faith, hope and charity, or the Other virtues, arid of the wonderful gifts of the Holy Ghost. But the souls of all of them bear the stamp--so to say---of an immortal and supernatural destiny. We may not exclude them from our love. Nor must we think that 'they are 334 THE"NEW COMMANDMENT" incapable of doing good works, or that the good works they do are worthless, do not bring .upon them grace and blessing from their beneficent Father in heaven. That would be against the teaching and example of our Divine Lord. The story of the good Samaritan illustrates this. admirably. All know the incident as told by Christ Him-self. Com'mentatorson the gospel are of the opinion that it is based on facts. This good Samaritan, who took pity On the man lying by the wayside, wounded and robbed,. was not a Jew, had not th~ Jewish religion. In our man-ner of speaking, he was a heretic and schismatic. But our Savior commended his conduct because of his compassion and charity. There are many good Samaritans at the present day, men and women who, in ,spite of their handicap in not having the true faith, devote time and effort and worldly means to, the relief of the poor and suffering children of men, who are also the children of our Father in heaven: We should not shrug ,our shoulders in depreciation of what they do. Anyone who does that may expect~to hear from Christ the words He spoke to the self-sufficient hwyer: "Go, and do thou also in like manner." We ought rather to praise charitable works no matter who does them, and glove the doers of them credit for a good ,motive. Who knows.that they have not a good in~ention, even a super-natural one? And even if they are acting from purely nat-ural principles, still natural virtue is better than no virtue at all. R~lieving distress is a virtue, at least a,natural one. It is a benefit done to others, and God will reward it in some way. The unselfishness of these charitable people may, dispose their souls for the reception of the. true faith. The Cornmunit~ is a Famitg Every community, of religious is rightly called a reli-gious family. Its members bear to each other a~ relation- 335 MATTHEW GERMING . ship analogous to that which obtains between, the indi-viduals of a family consisting of father, mother, and chil-dr. en. The bond of union between members of the same reli-gious family is a moral and supernatural one. Not 9nly are the.y united~as are all the faithful~by the bond Of divine charity through which they are incorpgrated.in the mysti-cal body of Christ, but they are closely bound together by their common consecration to God and by their~observance of one and the same rule of life. In such a family we expect kindness and charity to abound. And they will abound as,~long as its members are ~true to their-consecration, and are faithful in observing their rules and regulations and the orders of their superiors, all of which have been wisely ordained for their spiritual and temporalwell-being. This in. general. But I will add a point which is definite and particular. Religious must be unselfish, unselfish in their thoughts~ in their words, and in their dealings with one another. One founder of a religious order wants his fol-lowers to be so unselfish as "in all things to yield to others thee better part, esteeming all in their hearts superior to themselves, striving to see in everyone the' image of our Lord 3esus Christ." ¯ ¯ ,, As for the last recommendation, religious will be much helped in this striving if, in their every~'day lives, they make a Serious endeavor to fix their attention not on What "is faulty or less worthy in thdir fellow religious, but on what is commendable and worthy of imitation.:~ This practide of seeing in others what is good and praiseworthy is not only commendable in itself, but is at "the same time an effective means of counteracting the common tendency to think and judge ill' of others. In the Book of Exodus (32:22), Aaron speaking of the 3ews, says to Moses: "Thou know-est this people, that they are prone to evil." If we restrict the meaning of the statement to speaking and judging 336 THE'°~EW COMMANDMENT" adversely of other~, we may say that it is true of well-nigh all men. We find its parallel even in the intellectual order. "The ready belief in ,falsehood, and the slow acceptance of truth, is among the most observed traits of human nature.''z We muit beware of, the propensity,, to think and judge unfavorably of others. We must never ~unnecessaiily and deliberately entertain discreditable thoughts either of our fellow religious or of other persons; most of all, must we never express them in words. This:would be criticism and criticism is. out of place in .a religious community. We must not criticise our equals. Our Lord forbids it. "Do not juc~g, He says; "and you shall, not be judged; do not condemn, and you shall not be condemned" (Luke 6:37). We must not criticise superiors; the reason is the same: Cl~rist forbids it. This is the supernatural reason and is all-su~cient. But there are natural reasons also for.not criticising the decisions or actions and policies of superiors. They have knowledge and information concerning,things to be done which.we have not. Moreover, they take int6 consideration, as they are bound to do, every angle of an event or situation, and the welfare of the whole commun-ity, whereas weare often satisfied to view the case from the particular aspect that affects us. Superiors bear heavy bur-dens for our sakes; we owe them support and cooperation, which we can give them 'by our ready and willing obedi-ence. Let us ~heed.the words of St. Paul:. "I therefore exhort you that you walk worthy of the vocation in Which you are called, with all~ humility and meekness, with patience, 'supporting one another in charity" (Ephesians 4:2)" And these of St. Peter: "Before all things have a constant mutual charity among yourselves; for charity covers a multitude of sins" (I Peter 4:8). ~Frands-'Thompson, Saint 19natius Logola, c.° 12, p. 283. ~ 33~ to Assist Dying Non-Catholics Gerald Kelly, S.J. ACCORDING to the doctors, it was certain that the patient would not l~ave the hospital alive: Accord-ing to the hospital register, it was equally cert~iin that the man was not a Catholic. In fact, as Sister Mary later ~liscovered, he knew little about God, less about religion in general, and-nothing about the Catholic Church. But his disposition, was excellent. In the. subsequent weeks of his lingering illness he showed eagerness and a great capacity foi instruction. He expressed an earnest desire to enter the Catholic Church, was baptized, received Extreme.Unction and.the Holy Euchi~rist, and died a truly pious death. Thus goes the story of the ideal way of providing for dying non-Catholics: to bring them to open profession of the Catholic Faith and to confer upon them the Sacraments that they need and are capable of receiving. It is the ideal; at times it is realizable, often'enough it is impossible. Some people are outside the Church through ill-will; all that we can do for them is pray that they will cooperate with the grace of God. Others are outside the fold through an ignorance which will respond to "treatment"~as in the example alleged above. And many are non-Catholics by reason of an ignorance which cannot be removed: either they are convinced that their own religion is all right, or at least they are convinced that the Catholic Church is all wrong. / People can belong .to this third class witl~out having any real ill-will. They are non-Catholics "in good faith," as, we say. They belong "to the soul of the Church," as some explain it; or, as others say, they are "invisible mere- 338 APOS'~OLATE TO ASSIST DYING NON,CATHOLICS bers of the visible Church." Call it what you will, these people can save their souls, even without explicit profession of the Catholic Faith, lorouided theft fulfill certain mini-mum essentials for saloation. What are these minimum essentials of salvation? Prac-tically speaking,~ they may be summed up in four acts that involve the free cooperation of a human being with the grace of God, namely, acts of Faith, Hope, Charity, and .Contri-tion. They must be supernatural acts, that is, made. with the help of grace, and rooted in a free acceptance of Divine Revelation. Thus, the basic act in this~series is supernatural Faith, not a vague sentimental thing that many people call faith, not the mere Work of human reason, but the accept-ance by man of truths revealed by God and because they are revealed by God. It is not necessary to make an explicit act of faith in all the dogmas of the Catholic Faith, but to be sure of salvation one must believe at least in these four revealed truths: the existence of God, the fact that God re-wards the good and punishes the wicked, the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, the mystery~of the Incarnation. " Anyone with a truly .apostolic spirit will Want to help non-Cath01ics (o make these necessary acts. It cannot be left to chance, because God does not work by chance; He works thrpugh ordinary human instruments. The true apostle, therefore, will try to devise a means of providing the dying non-Catholic with this opportunity. But in this apostolic endeavor he will find himself con-fronted with two serious difficulties; the first being to ob-tain a brief, yet apt formulatidn of the necessary prayers', the second consisting in gaining an approach to the non- Catholic without provoking antagonism. Several years ago, Monsignor Raphael 3. Markham, of the Archdiocese of Cincinnati, then professor of Pastoral Theology at Mount St. Mary Seminary, Norwood, Ohio, 339 GERALD KELLY worked ,out- a splendid solution to both.these,, problems. First he compiled a formula of the necessary prayers which is:admirable for its brevity, adequateness, and simple beauty~ Next he had these prayers printed on cards which, though attractive to the .eye, contain no reference to Catholicism that might je0paridze the.good cause in the case of a non- Catholic whom long years of misrepresentation had made suspicious of the Catholic Church. These cards can be p!aced near the bedside, sent through a friend--there are innumerable ways of getting them into the hands of non- Catholics without wakening suspicious prejudice~ ~. Monsignor .Markham's venture was first launched on a very smal! scale. He distributed the cards to his own class and explained the method of using .them. Later, someone drew the attention of Archbishop McNicholas to the novel apostolic plan, and he insisted that it get wider recognition. In the subsequent years, the mo:vement has grown 'im-mensely, and the results have been most gratifying. We presume that all religious, p~rticularly those w15o have o'.casion to minister to the sick and the dying, will.be deeply interested in this trdly apostolic, venture. Anyone who wishes more information can obtain an explanatory brochure an~l a few sample cards by writing to one of the addresses given be!ow. The cards themselves, whether plain or hand-tinted, sell at a very moderate price--merely ehough to cover expenses. At present Monsignor Markham and his associates are particularly interested in distributing a small, convenient card designed espe~cially for the use of men in our armed forces. For brochure and cards write to:., ,(a) Rt: Reu. R. d. Markham, S.T.D., Compton Road, Hartwell, Cincinnati, Ohio. (b) Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis, St. Clare Convent, Harttoell, Cin-cinnati, Ohio. (c) Sister M. Carmelita, R.S.M., Convent of Mercy, 1409 Freeman Avenue, Cincinnati, Ohio. 340 -. Commun ca!: ons [EDITOR'S NOTE: In our July number (p. 218) we outlined one practical di~culty concerning the spiritual direction of religious and asked for constructive comment and suggestions. We have received many communications on the subject. ,We cannot publish alldn this number, but we are printing as many as space permits. The remainder will be used in the next number. Further comments, either on the o~iginal editorial ~r ~on the communications printed in the~ present number, will be welcomed. Most of the letters concern the direction of Sisters. Considering their number and the fact that their spiritual direction must be limited almost exclusively to the confessional, this was to be expected. However.' the readers" attention is called to the excellent communication from a Brother Novice Master that appears in this number. More such letters would be ~helpful; we have a large number of Brothers among our subscribers. The editors assume no responsibility for the opinions expressed in these com-munications. ,Judge them on their own merits.] From Priesf~ - Rdverend Fathers: Du~ing ofir semifiary, days we used to" say that allconfessors (like all Gaiil) could be~divided into thre~ classes: confessors who simply " said "For your penance say--"; confessors ~ho said "Tomorrow's feast reminds us that ", and good confessors. Several years'°~experience in hearing confessions may have led us to r~vise that rattier hasty generahzatlon. As secular priests we seldom have the duty of hearing the confessions of religious women at the time Of theft retreat. But upon us as secular priests falls the obligation of being', in most. cases, the ordinary confessors of religious-women. That'0~e has never been assigned to me, but upon various bccasions and for various reason~s sisters have come to confession to me, and from this slight experience together with a great deaf'more thoughl~ I have come to conclusions which may answer, in part at l~st. the. questions ~aised by the editorial Spiritual Direction by the Ordiriar~/Con[essor in the 3uly 15 issue of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. That some sort of spiritual direction should be given by the .ordinary confessor of religious women can, I think, be considered a pr, oved fact. By their vows°and their~eager desire to be faithful in all things to those vows religious are ~laced high in the ranks of the Church. Consequently, they are exposed to, greater satanic attacks and need greater assistance. Weekly spiritual di.rection of some sort is an essential form of tha~ assisfance. But what form shofild i.t take? My simple suggestion is that 34.1 it is not. wise for the ordinary confessor to make a general :rule Of commenting on the faults confessed. Unless there is something out-standing among them riley had' better be passed over in silence; as too much emphasis placed on them may result in scrupulosity. Rather, the ordinary-confessor should giye posit!re direction, centering his words and ideas, on Our Divine Saviour, "especially as His Divine and Human Natures' are manifested to us b~/ the liturgical year. Such direction counteracts the natural tendency of many reli-gious people, perhaps, more especially of religious women, to become self-centered in their spiritual life. The confessor can exemplify and elaborate this simple, advice, but it seems to me that it contains the germ of sound and fruitful dilection which can be given by the ordinary confessor of religious. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: I am a religious, ordained more than twenty-five years, during which time I have never been without the charge of one. sometimes two. religious communities, as ordinary and extraordinary confessor, Besides. I have given nearly a hundred retreats,~most of'which have been to religious women. The heart of your editorial is in the sentence, "The ~¢onfessor does not know how to make the approach: the community does not make it for him." o , ~ I think it is the duty of tl~ confessor to make the-approach. Personally I have not given thematter of direction so much attention, but very early in the exercise of the ministry, I realized how impor-tant it is to help religious to receive the Sacramefit of Penance as fruitfully as possible, as an effective means of spiritual progress. 1 ) For many years I made it a point to.give each penitent a few ¯ words of encouragemen~t or advice, based on the season of the y~car, or some pract~ic¢ connected with some approaching feast. (The same for all.) 2) T~ese little talks were later varied dnd aimed at helping the penitent ,correct some fault or no,quire some virtue. This I consider the first step in making the Sacrament of Penance a very fruitful means of advancing. 3) I frequently make it a point to emphasize that they should endeavor to correct themselves of one fault ev~erytime they go to con-fession. Sorrow and the purpose of amendment should be centered 342 COMMUNICATIONS on one f~ult. I frequently ask them what one fault they are going to try to overcome for next' week. 4) I ~fideavor to impress upon them the benefit of investigating the roots of sins and of confessing ~tendencies rather than individual acts, specially never to confess sins for which they are ~ot sorry. If a confessob proves hims~elf zealous, willing to listen, kind, and above all invariably patient and tactful, practically all religious will correspond and the results will be very gratifying. Most reli-gious fear to be, a burden to the confessor by what they may refer to as their petty troubles. If the confessor makes each one feel that he has all the time in the world for them, and that he is interested in each soul's advancement, confidence will be given and a great deal will be " accomplished in directing them. These three books have helped me in solving this problem in past years: The Confessional by Rt. Reverend Aloysius Roeggl, trans-lated from °the German and" adapted by the Reverend Augustine Wirth, O.S.B., published by the translator, at Elizabeth, ,N. 2. (1882.) Sacdrdotal Meditations, by Father Chaignon. Meditations 70 to 75 are'on the.duties and qualifications of a confessor. I make them' dvery year. at least during my retreat. Published by Benziger. Confession as a Means of Spiritual Progrdss, by Scharsch-Marks. Herder, 1935. Signed. etc . [NOTE:~ We mi~gh~ also recommend The Spiritual Direction of Sisters, by Ebl-Kirsch. : Benziger Bros., 1931.ED.] Reverend Fathers: Acting on th'~ assurance in the July REVIEW that you will wel-come constructive comment as to how Father A might be.of greater help to his penitents, may I proffer a suggestion or two? Let the perplexed confessor evince his willingness to give more than mire absolution by some such approach: "Is there any comment I can malie on any of these faults?" or "Can I behelpful to you in any of these problems?" or "Is there anything that is a source of anxiety to you?" etc. etc. Numbers of individuals have found such an invitation to share their burden with a willing counselor all that was needed to open the way to eventual peace of soul. If Father A "heard about twenty confessons in twenty-fi~,e min-utes" could it be that some of his penitents listened in vain for the Dorninus sit in cordo tuo. . . Misereatur . . . lndulgentiam . . . 343 COMMUNICATIONS Passio D. N. d. C . ? When a confessor habitually reduces his administration of the Sacrament of Penance tO the minimum in effort;. it isn't strange that those who kneel before, him follow .suit. I should like to amplify bpth these points and stress still another one or two, but you wisely~suggest brevity. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: " The confessor should be thoroughly and personally interested in his charges. If he be so interested, he should find no difficulty in~ formulating a question or two that will bring out their degree of religious'observance or fervor, upon which he can then build a helpful and constructive bit of spiritual guidance. Signed, etc . Reverend Fathers: The experience I am relating here concerns a retreat-director, not an ordinary confessor: but it may prove helpful to the general subject of spiritual direction by the confessor. The experience concerns a prominent priest who in his early retreats was s;iid to give "'marvelous instructions" but was scarcely mediocre as a confessor. He was told of this and set about to over-come his difficulty, which seems to have been about the same as that of Father A in your editorial. To overcome the hesitancy of the sisters, he asked some question such as this: How's the spiritual life? your meditation? your particular examen? .your obedience? In most cases he found that this was iufficient to open the floodgates: the nuns were bursting to say something, btlt they didn't know how. It was a case of 50-50, the penitent as backwardas the confessor. The opening ~lUeStibn was what.might be described as "breaking the ice." Next on the program was to have a brief, practical, attrac-tive remedy for the trouble that might be manifested, e. g. "Mddita-tion is terrible." The priest worked these points out: and he. has found the method very helpful and successful.~ Signed, etc . From Brothers Reverend Fathers: ' The problem raised in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOL~S, Volume I. No. 4, with regard to spiritual dii'ection by the ordinary confessoi, has been 344 COI~UNICATIONS ~our ;'own problem for quite a long time. The solution we have evolved in our house of formation is given as follows: First of all, we are indebted to the understanding heart of our chaplain for a perfect collaboration between him and the Brother Superior of the' community. This is a matter of prime importance. At the beginning each month the Brother Superior proposes to the community the practice of a particular virtue', ~hosen ordinarily ~from among those which are recommended to'us by our Rules, 'or of which a more urgent n~d is .f~lt." He explains this virtue, deriving his inspiration, as concerns practical 'applications, from the Constitu-tions, the Custom Book, and the letters of Major Superiors. Then eachvirtue'is divided so that in four successive weeks it may be prac-ticed with increasing perfecton. Here are three examples: " PO3il~RTY: First Weeh, to avoid superfluities; Second Weeh, avoid attaEhment to what is permitted: Third Weeh, to avoid the useful, the comfortable, the new: Fourth Weeh, t~ deprive oneself at times of necessities, without of course jeopardizing health. HUMILITY: First Weeh, to speak well of the absent:, Sec~ond Weeh, to cultivate an interior contempt of self; Third Weeh~ to take joy in contempt; Fourth Weeh, to attribute to God the credit for our CHARITY: First Weeh, to render services at the cost of one's own convenience; Second Weeh, ro"return good for good: Third Weeh, to return good for nothing; Fourth Weeh, to return good for evil. " The program thus prepared is given over to the chaplain, who, except in rare instances, draws therefrom material for the weekly ~xh6rtation he addresses v t0 l~is penitents. The latter thereupon ~nform the confessor of their fidelity to the ~dvice received at ~the time of the preceding confession. The habit of renderifi'g to the confessor a spontaneous account of one's fidelity in. following advice ~hould be thoroughly inculcated and de~,elope~l :from the.beginning of the novitiate. There is a corre- Sponding ~>l~ligation on the part of the confessor to ,khort'; to en~ourage, to direct ;. and it is for this purpose thak we supply him with matter each' month. It should be evident that our entire undertaking has but one aim: "to-afford the confessor and his charge an opportimit~l for mutual understanding, so as to place the confessor before an open door, so to 345 COMMUNICATIONS speak, or at least a door which is on the point of opening. The rest must be left to the good will of the director and of those who are to be directed, and to the grace of God. At this _stage discretion demands that the Superior withdraw to the background. A former colleague of mine, to whom goes the entire credit for the solution of our problem and its .application in practice, has this to say about it: "The labor of cooperation, based on an understanding between the chaplain and the superior, has been pursued for more than three years at one of our houses and for 24 months at another. It is the characteristic feature of the Eucharistic method (of Abb~ Poppe), ¯ of St. Ignatius and his entireschool. I can attest that it is effective and psychologically sound. The ~theological. and moral virtues, th~ practice of the Rules--all can be subjected to this progressivd and methodic labor. It has the advantage of compellii~g, in a certain manner, the confessor to make himself als0 a director. This solution haso proved satisfactory to our confessor and to those whom he directs: it is conformable, at any rate so. I believe, to the ~pirit of the Church. You can weigh it for yourself. If you find it too flimsy . whoosh! .to the wastebasket. A Novice Master From Sisters Reverend Fathers: Your editorial on Spiritual Direction in the July issue of the REVIEW is most timely and thought-provoking. We have discussed the article in question, and here are some of our The directors chosen are not always the best suited for religious. Some are timid, impatient, have a frigid air. A few hit on a happy phrase and use it week after week: for~ example,~ "Keep up the good work and say three Hail Marys." Many show no zeal for perfection. "We cannot give what we haven't got." The director as Teacher, Father, Judge should tak.e thee initiative. Any question regarding a fault confessed will serve as an opening; ~or "Sister, I am here to help you. Have you ,,any questions to ask?" We would tell Father A of your article: "The next time you have a chance to direct religious, go forth and bea spark among the reeds and set the world on fire with the love of Jesus Christ. The ashe~ of the reeds will beeternally grateful to you." 346 COMMUNICATIONS As to the religious themselves, ther~ is no end of excuses. Lack of courage--what will others say?shyness--fear of the conse-quences-- don't know how o~ where to'beginPnot encouraged to seek direction in confession. Some simply like the shady side of easy street. To both confessor and penitent could be" said, "Ask. seek . . . knock." It will mean more peace, more joy, more of God here and hereafter. A Religious Community Reverend Fathers: Enclosed are some thofights I've had for quite a few years on the subject of direction in the confessions of nuns. I am grateful that this matter has been brought° up and trust the responses you receive will be enlightening and helpful to all of us. SOME REASONS WHY DIRECTION OF NUNS IN CONFESSION FAILS: I. On the part of Communitg: The ever present pressure of work that straifis time. Fifty or sixty nuns, sometirdes more, waiting to go to confession and-- one confessor. If half the fiuns took all the time they wanted, the other half wo'uld of necessity be restless--maybe i~rital~le--waiting. The time dement in consideration of the waiting of others is to my mind a big factor. I saw this solved in one Of our larger communi-ties when the Rector" of a nearby monastery sent three confessors at the same time. It served a three-fold purpose: (a) the nuns had a choice of confessor; (b) none minded how long she stayed because she felt no one had to wait because of'her: (c) the confessors all fin-ished within an hour or so and not one felt overburdened. 2. On the part o~ the indit~idual nun:- (a) Because of long years without direction, she has long ago abandoned the idea of ever having that help, and so her.confessions become mere-recitals of weekly J imperfections-and~ venial sins. (b) Because she has been frightened at sometime or another, or disillusioned to some extent, she is too timid to ask the help she Craves. (c) Because sec~lar priests many times do not seem to under.- stand religious life and the serious obligation a religious has of striving constantly, for perfection, the nun after some futile attempts to get direction regarding her retreat election, her monthly examen. 347 COMMUNICATIONS etC., abandons the ~ttempt seeing the priest embarrasked, or indefinite in his guidance. . ,~ ° (d) Because she needs guidance ~so badly'and doesn't know where to begin, or how td ask, she is silent,~ hoping always the con-fessdr will make an opening. Or she has real problems, but fear, or a natural reticence, or tl~e thought," :'This is too simple to bother a confessor about," hinders her from seeking guidance. ¯ 3. On the part of the confe~or: (a) If~he is a religious ~priest, "he will Usually give a prepared instruction, or will sdlect some sin mentioned and give advice, but unless asked, he will not usually attempt guidance that is consecu-tively followed.~ Why? , (b) If he is .a secular priest, he sometimes belittles°confessions that include "breaking of silence," "time wasted." etc,, saying, as has been done too frequently: "That is silly,;~ tell your.sins,-" or "Sister. you don't have to mention imperfections." (Is a dun supposed to have venial sins all the time to confess?) (c) If the confessor is in a hurry andgiv.es evidence of this by closing the slide before the nuns finish their ac~ of contrition, or by asking, "Sister; are there many nuns to go?" the news soon gets around the community that Father X is al~ways in such a hurry that none wants to hinder his fligh!! (d) If unfortunately he has ever said to even one nun. " I don't like tohear nun£ confessions," it is sufficient to prevent many from seeking him as a director. (e) If the'confessor is indefinite, ciicling generalities, using too philosophical terms, most nuns are more confused and give up. thinking "What's the use?. I~ never do get any. real help when I ask." Solutions: I. In~ large communities two confeisors (or more) coming on the same or on consecutive days, will .solve the problemof time and the fear on the nun's part of keeping large groups waiting. II. The nuns on their part should ask simply for continued guidance stating frankly their desire of acquiring such and such a virtue; .their constant difficulty regarding particular examen; ~their lack of progress in the spiritual life and'the r~asons they thinl~ respon-sible for it: their difficulty with their superiors, or others, and;what in themselves causes it. These cases stated clearly, ,,frankly, humbly, 348 COMMUNICATIONS will at once help the confessor to analyze and guide the soul seeking help. III. The confessor .by evidencing his real interest, his wish to help regardless of the time taken, his "follow up" from a confession, would win confidence an'd would win,o souls starving for spiritual aid. Such questions as: "Sister, are youin the habit of speaking against authority? . Sister, do you ever think how much good you can do by giving the example of perfect silence?" or simply, "Sister, cain I help you in any way ?"--would be the seSami~ of opened and awakened souls. To give one instance: after a confession hurriedly made in. which evdr~rthing ~was generalized, a confessor asked, "Sister, are you accustomed to making confessions like this fre-quently?" This simple question broke down a nun's reserve and resulted in several years of fruitful guidan&. The nun felt the priest really cared. Is this the secret? A Mother S~perior Re~,erend Fathers: I ~m especially grateful for the challenge thrown out in the article on $1~iritual Direction b~/ the Ordinar~l Confessor. I sincerely .hope that the forthcoming communic.ations will do much to stimulate priests in their great responsiblity in guiding souls to a higher perfec-tions. Here are my suggestons: Give the admonition on the confession made. "Poor Pussy" types of admonitlon~are not appreciated: nor are "canned" admoni-tions. Oc~asi0nally ask WHY a certain fault was committed; als0 WHAT is being done to overcome a repeated accusation. Another question that creates¯ thought is, "What is your particular exarfien?" And the added remark, "Report on this each month," gives much material for guidance. Sometimes the question, "What do you mean when you accuse yourself of .thus and s0?" may cause a startling revelation to the confessor. ¯ A varying penanc.e also helps to draw attention to the individual confessio.n, A Mother Superior [Addr¢ss further communications on this subject directly to the' Editors, St. ,Mary's Co11¢g¢. St. Marys, Kansas.] Book Reviews OUR MODELS IN RELIGION. By Brother Jean-Bapfiste, F.M.S. Pp. 520. Marls÷ Brothers, St. Ann's Herm;tacje, Poughkeepsie, N. Y. $1.50. Thd subtitle of this book indicates its contents: "Biographies of some early Marist Brothers who were outstanding by their vir-tues and love for their vocatidn." Written originally in French by Brother 3ean-Baptiste, it was translated intoEnglish on the occasion of the 120th anniversary of the foundation of, the Institute. "Fhe purpose of the work was evidently to inspire the Marist Brothers by the virtuous example of their predecessors. Merely as biography, Our Models in Religion wouldoprobably be of interest to Marist Brothers but would hardly merit the attention of others. However, "biography" may be said to be a secondary theme of the work. The biographical sketches are rather pegs on which to hang various bits of good advice and instructio~a. There is much good instruction, much good conference material, in the book. Spiritual directors,of religious can find in it many worthwhile points for conferences, as well as an abundance of material for ~developing the topics. The book was printed by Desclle. Paper, printing, and binding are all of high quality. G. KELLY, S.,J, ".THE SOLUTION IS EASY. By the Reverend Mark Schmid. O.S.B., Ph.D. Pp. xii ÷ 181. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York, 1942. $2.00. ~This book forms a neat, popular introduction to the Scholastic answers to the fundamental questions of philosophy. It will prove useful especially to those who have not the opportunity of making thorough study of Sct~olasticism but who, nevertheless, would lit::to become acquainted with its broad outlines. The work bears the imprint of one who.has,had many years of experience in teaching science and philosophy: the subject matter is presented in a way that makes it easily grasped and the author is careful to avoid even the appearance of being dogmatic. He does not enter upon ground con-troverted by the scholastics themselves, but confines himself to those points wherein all are agreed. Especially prominent is the frequent 350 BOOK REVIEWS discussion of popular scientific problems that have a close connection with philosophical principles. The book begins With a Jthumb-nail sketch (twe.nty-three pages) of the history of Scholasticism from its earliest period to the twenti-eth century. The second, and chief, part of the book consists of brief chapters setting forth the. Neo-Scholastic view of the major problems of philosophy. The first four chapters pertain to cosmology and discuss the problems of the nature and origin of the physical world. Then come.~ ~sychology with such questions as the origin of life, knowledge, free will', immortality.~ Following this are such metaphysical questions as First Principles, the problem of evil, causality, design or purpose, and the Creator. The problem of social origins forms the concluding chapter of the book. After each chapter is appended a convenient bibliography of readings and references. The author has chosen for this purpose those books which are writ-ten- in English and which should be easily procurable from an ordi-nary Catholic library. Fr. Schmid omits dry discussions from his book, eliminates the formalism of scholastic text-books, and enlivens his work through-out with apt illustrations and homely analogies. The ideas are quite clear, the language is simple and, for the most part, concrete. Tech-nical words are defined and. described. Synonyms, parenthetical expressions, and quotation marks are employed quite frequently, for the benefit of the uninitiated. At the the end of the book there is a glossary making a handy dictionary of terms found in this and other books on.philosophy.--A. J. BENEDETTO, S.J. THE DIALOG MASS. By the Reverend Gerald Elhrd, S.J. Pp. xvl -~ 223. Loncjmans,'Green & Company, New YorE, 1942. $2.75. "It is well within the expectations of probability that another decade will have witnessed the gradual transition to Dialog Mass as the normal form of low Mass worship everywhere in the United States." It is Archbishop Michael J. Curley, speaking, in his preface to Father Ellard's book, Who from his vantage point, as Archbishop of Baltimore and Washington gives us this measured judgment of,the future of Dialog Mass in this country. For all of us this practically means that in the opinion of Archbishop Curley, when attending low Mass ten years from now we shall either have to form a part of 351 Boo~ R~vm~s deliSerately cut ourselves off from fellowship with our fellow, Chris-tians by remaining s~lent. This makes the Dialog Mass and our acceptance or rejection of it a burni.ng ques~tion right now. " The more so is this true, as the Dialog Mass is the resul~ of the efforts of many zealous prelates and priests throughout the world to bring into actuality the active participation of the laity in the most holy mysteries and in the public and solemn prayers of the Church/of which the authoritative voice of Plus X says, "It is the foremost and indispensable font for acquiring the true Christian sp, irit" (Motu P'roprio, On Sacred Music). It will be a surprise to many a one who has been apathetic to the Dialog Mass "because it is an innovation," to find that it is one 'of those innova~tions that are in absolute accord with the old theologi-cal adage, Nil ~'nno{petur nisi quod traditum est (Let there be no inno-vation except such as comes down to us by tradition). The Dialog Mass is not a bringing in of something new that never was. but bringing back of what has been. Father. Ellard, after studying the historical evidence, feels justified in making the statement: "In the sixteenth century the custom still survived at Rome and elsewhere that the congregatioh made the Mass responses with the serv~er. When the custom disappeardd is not known." Father Ellard's book is important because of its studied~y accu-rate presentation of facts regarding the spread of the Dialog Mass and his documented story of the attitude of the Holy See on the subject. At the end of Chapter Five, in which the author shows that the Did-log Mass is encircling the globe, he presents the following' results of a questionnaire-survey among Sodalists throughout the United_ States and of official surveys of the Diocese of LaCrosse and of the Arch-diocese of Chicago: Dioceses in which Dialog Mass is approved. 100: Dioceses in which Dialog Mass is not allowed. 4: Dioceses on which information is not available, 11. Thi~ l~ind of information is of supreme importance for ever~ one of us by reason of another theological adage, Securus judicat orbis terraru~, the sense of w, hich is that the Catholic world judges surely about the Catholicity or ,non-Catholiciy of any religious practice. Teachers will be especially grateful to Father Ellard for his helpful suggestions about Dialog Mass for children.'hnd hhw to corn-~ bine it with music, and thus buil
Issue 30.5 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Dledertch, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw FOR I~LIOXOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 3~21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 191o6. + + + 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 ~) 1971 by REVIEW VOR RELIC;IOUS. Published for Review for Religious at .Mr. Royal & Guilford Ave., Baltimore, Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, .Maryland and at additional mailing offices. 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, $)3.00 ~or )wo years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S,A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW Fog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 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 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 5 EDWARD J. FARRELL The Journal--A Way into Prayer If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent If the unheard, unspoken Word is unspoken, unheard; Still is the unspoken woriJ, the Word unheard, The Word without a word, the Word within the world and for the world; and the light shone in darkness and against the Word the unstilled world still whirled about the centre of the silent Word --Ash Wednesday, T. S. Eliot. Prayer is a hunger, a hunger that is not easily quieted. Today the cry, "Teach us to pray," echoes and reverber-ates from many directions. One of the ways I have learned to pray is by writing. I began by copying favorite passages from reading, then thoughts and ideas of others and fi-nally came to jotting down my own insights and reflec-tions from the prayer and experiences of each day. This prayer journal at times seems like my own biography of Christ, a kind of Fifth Gospel. Writing makes me think of the Evangelists' experience. Why and how did Mat-thew, Mark, Luke, and John begin their writing? What happened in them? What kind of grace was affecting them? Certainly their experience in writing was a prayer, an entering into the mind and heart of Christ. I wonder if the evangelists' experience is not to be a more common experience for many Christians. We know that God has expressed Himself in a unique and privileged way in Scripture, and yet He continues to reveal Himself and ourselves to us in the events of our ~everyday life. His written word is fresh born each morn-ing and He appeals to us: "Harden not your hearts this day as your fathers did in the desert" (Ps 95). We dare to ask Him each day: "Give us this day our daily bread," knowing that it is not by bread alone that man lives but by every word that comes from the mouth of God. The Father continues to communicate to each of us through E. J. Farrell is a faculty member of Sacred Heart Semi-nary; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit, Michigan 48206, VOLUME 30, 751 ÷ ÷ E. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the Spirit of His Son, "for the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God. After all, the depths of a man can only be known by his own spirit, not by any other man; and in the same way the depths of God can only be known by the Spirit of God. Now instead of the spirit of the world, we have received the Spirit that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (1 Cot 2:10-2). Rahner somewhere writes: "There are things which theologians try to explain. The Lord has other means of making them understood." Christ speaks to us each in a unique way. I think and pray and speak to Him in a way no one else has ever spoken to Him. He speaks to me in a way that He has spoken to no one else. Moments of depth and rare in-sight, of meeting with God, the sacred, are to be treasured and pondered within the heart. What photography is to the visual, writing is to the intuitive and moment of light. Paul wrote: "If you read my words, you will have some idea of the depths that I see in the mystery of Christ (Eph 3:4). Writing enables us to see into the depths. It is not a simple recording of thoughts already finished; it is crea-tive in its very activity and process. Writing is a journey, exploring the countries of the mind and heart, the never ending revelatory Word spoken once for all time. Little attention has been given to the value of writing as a way into prayer, an openness to contemplation, as a celebra-tion and remembering, as discovery, as centering. Deep calls to deep and the deep conscious level responding to the deep, not yet conscious reality of our being. In the beginning was the Word and He had to become incar- Ilate. There is I hope something of the Evangelists' grace for each of us, the grace of writing, of incarnating, infleshing the word in our self and imprinting it and making it our word. None of the Evangelists were "writers" in the pro-fessional sense; yet their writings were a deep communi-cation with God, with themselves, with others. Our Lord frequently asked His listeners: "What do you think?" He constantly compels us to think, to contemplate! How sad it is that so often we lose our capacity for truth, for depth; numbness, overload fuses out and shortcircuits our perceptive facuhies. Writing creates an opening in the stream of uncon-" sciousness and breaks up the automatic pattern of our life. One awakes to the newness that comes so unexpected each day. Our eyes see differently as through the wonder of a new camera. One becomes aware that ihis is the only moment like this that I shall ever have. The first con-scious thought of the day becomes an exciting experi- ence. As a person writes he begins to recognize an extraor-dinary relation between the hand as it writes and the mind and heart, like an ignition. What is written is not as significant as what happens to us in the process. Some-thing is growing within; hidden capacity gently reveals itself. New sensitivities unfold. The horizon sweeps back, the veil lifts, and we experience Emmaus: "Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us and explained the scripture to us" (Lk 24:32). Rollo May describes creativity as "the encounter of the intensely conscious human being with his world." Writing is an experience of creativity immediately availa-ble to everyone: "To write one has but to begin, to take the risk, to take it seriously enough to play with it, for it is by walking that one creates the path." It is so easy to live outside of ourselves, to be unaware of the inner center, the inner dialogue, the inner journey. But once a man begins, he experiences the' thrill of his own unique thoughts and insights. He begins to descern his own words from the borrowed words of others. What an ac-celeration to discover the "hidden manna" and He who gives him "a white stone, with a new name written on the stone which no one knows except him who receives it" (Rev 2:17). T. S. Eliot expresses it so simply: With the drawing of this Love and the Voice of this Calling We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Writing is a way into what is going on and developing within ourselves. It can become a powerful way of prayer, a key to self-understanding and inner dialogue. The power in writing stimulates the very inner process that it is engaged in describing, drawing the process further inward. It is not a passive retelling of events, or a de-scribing of an experience. It becomes one's own experi-ence. Nor is it a self-conscious analytical introspection. Expressing oneself in words is rather an active and con-tinuing involvement in a personal inner process through which one is drawn into an expanded understanding of the reality in his own existence. For example, most peo-ple pray the Our Father every day. One can hear Christ's words and then suddenly hear what his own heart is saying: "Hallowed by my name, my kingdom come, my will be done." This inbreaking of understanding can be-come just another forgotten inspiration and lost grace or by getting it down it becomes specific, focused, and deci-sive. If one writes regularly, no matter how briefly, a con-scious thought, insighL prayer, reflection,he will find that 4- + + The Journal VOLUME ~0, 1971 753 ÷ ÷ ÷ E. J. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "/54 it becomes a cumulative enrichment. It is tuning into what is going on, seeing the connection and relationship, capturing that which is behind the consciousness. Writing and contemplation tend to merge. We know the saints best who found themselves compelled to write---Augus-tine, Bernard, Catherine, Teresa, and our own contem-poraries John XXIII's Journal of a Soul, Dag Hammar-skjold's Markings. In this day of so much glib talk, when we are daily inundated and assaulted with unending words and speech, when everyone is correspondingly articulate on every-thing, the written personal word is increasingly impor-tant. Such words come out of silence and expand silence. They reestablish privacy so rare today, and a comfortable sense of solitude. They beget the dialogue between one's known self and one's deeper, unknown self that is coming into being. One begins to hear the wordless dialogue be-tween one's deepest sel{ and God. Christ taught His Dis-ciples through the deep questions--"Who do you say I am? . Do you love me? . What do you think?" We can-not but respond to His questions and imperatives with our own questions and responses: "Is it I, Lord? W.here do you live?" As never before, each of us has to personalize our faith; we must initial it with our own name and make it ours. We must be able to give reason for the faith that is within us. People do not ask about the formal teachings of the Church. They want to know your experience, what you think, what difference does Jesus make. Here are some of the questions that I. have been asked and that I write about in order that I may be ready to speak His word in me for others: "How do you pray? . Who is Jesus for me?.When do you believe? .W. hen do you love?" "How? .When have you experienced penance? .W. hat difference does the Eucharist make in you? . What do you expect of you? .How does your vineyard grow?" "What is your charism? .W. hat is your sin? .W. hat would it take for you to be a saint now? . What is Jesus asking of you today? . What effect are you making on your world?" These questions demand thinking; they demand contemplation. Answering the questions in spoken words may avoid the implications of their personal meaning. Thinking is so diffused, unformulated, scattered, easily distracted. To write an answer for one's self is to drive deep; it disciplines, focuses, and brings one to face Christ with his conviction. A journal is a journey--the journey of today--both words are from the French word "le jour"--today. The journal is the coming into possession of life this day in the written word, capturing its secret, its mystery. The written word is perhaps more like a kiss than a possessing as in the words of Blake: He who bends to himself a joy Doth the winged life destroy But he who kisses the joy as it flies Loves in Eternity's sunrise. The journal calls for honesty, for a search into meet-ing. It is a discipline in a day when discipline is rare: "But it is a narrow gate and a hard road that leads to life, and only a few find it" (Mt 7:14). Time set aside to move from the outer to the inner, to discover new depths, to see new connections, to perceive fresh insight--surely this work is prayer. It is at times unselfconscious poetry and contemporary psalmody. The journal is a putting into words the praise of God that leaps from the transparencies of life which the light of faith illumines for us. Each of us has our own nnique psalms; the journal helps us to find the words which in turn we share with those He sends to us. Each must honor the desire to express one-self or not. Every person has his own inner rhythm, and each must have his own way of getting to it. Writing Together When people come together and are silent, something in addition becomes present: "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them" (Mt 18:20). As a group turns their focus from outside to inside, to a level of depth, something else be-comes present and makes other kinds of experiences pos-sible. This contact with ourselves would not happen by oneself. A cumulative atmosphere of depth allows us to come to new depth within ourselves. One of the more fruitful group prayer experience that I have worked with is using a three-hour block of time. A gronp of six to ten sit in a small circle in the presence of the Eucharist or with the open Scripture and lighted candle, in the center. The first hour is a prayer of adoration, of silent witness to the Presence in the presence of each other. This hour is an experience of silence and hiddenness with the Father: "You are dead and your life is hidden with Christ in God." The second hour is the hour of writingmthe quantum leaps from nothingness into creation--the power of a word pulling many things into understand-ing. Out of the silence the word comes forth. A field of energy is generated by the concentration of the others around oneself, and one is supported by the current of their efforts. The hour of writing is more than a remem-bering the hour in silence. It is an unfolding experience in itself that carries new dimensions of perception with it. The third hour is one of sharing, of speaking the word 4- + + The .lournal 755 to one another. The sharing is at a depth level because of the common experience of the previous two hours--it is no longer an exchange of words and ideas, it is a meeting of persons. In some dim way these three hours are a Trinity experience--the Father in the hour of silence, the Son in the hour of writing, and the Holy Spirit in the hour of sharing. God speaks! We are compelled to etch Him upon our hearts in writing; and then we are ready to bear witness unafraid and we dare to say with Paul: "If you read my words, you will have some idea of the depths that I see in the mystery of Christ" (Eph 3:4). EDWARD HAYES, O.C.S.O. Probings into Prayer One of the purposes of transactional analysis is to liber-ate people from unheahhy negative feelings about them-selves and others. To do this, one endeavors to evoke the same original sitnation wherein the "child" made a feel-ing decision from the experience. Once the original expe-rience is evoked, one has to re-decide, perhaps years later, at a feeling level, to liberate oneself from sulzh unhealthy negative feelings. In short, one has to return to the origi-nal injunction and re-decid~ on a feeling level. It is al-most a cliche in some circles: go back to childhood, to one's origin in order to understand one's present situa-tion better. ,'1 Wider Concept o[ Prayer To better nnderstand prayer it is also beneficial to return to its origins.1 St. John tells us: "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was toward God and the Word was God" (Jn 1;I). The Word was "toward God" sounds strange. We usually translate it by "with God," "near God," changing the meaning of the Greek, "pros theon." " The evangelist wants to express a mystery that our translation ought to respect. "Toward God" implies relationship, motion. From eternity the Word was turned toward the Father, the Word's Personality, His divine gaze, was totally addressing the Father--a Thou. An un-ceasing movement drew the Word toward the Father. Prayer is a movement toward Another, a responding rela-tionship. St. John, in describing the origin of prayer, is telling us something of great import: to become fully conscious you need only to look with love on another-- on a "Thou." And this is what the Word does from all eternity--turning totally toward His Father. Prayer de-scribed as this means it is relational, a moving toward Another. Responding to my life situation is a "moving 1Jean Galot, s.J., La pri~re (Bruges: Desclfie de Brouwer, 1965); throughout this article I am indebted to this hook. '~ I. de La Potterie, "De interpunctione et interpretatione versuum Job. 1:3, 4, I1," Verbum Domini, v. 33 (1955), pp. 193-208. 4- Edward Hayes is a staff member of the House of Prayer at Durward's Glen; RR 2, Box 220; Baraboo, Wisconsin 53913. VOLUME 30, 1971 757 4. 4. °4. Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS toward the Father," is prayer, is an earthly embodiment of the Eternal Word's incessant prayer. In this sense of prayer as a "pros theon" movement, prayer is as wide as life. Saying yes to the summons in one's daily circum-stances is a "pros theon" movement, is saying yes to ulti-mate Responsibility, God Himself. In this way man is again and again opening himsel[ to the summons availa-ble in his life, seeking to respond to it with courage and generosity. Although not in a specifically religious exer-cise, not even with a supernatural intention, man, in answering the appeals in his daily secular experiences, is moving toward the Fathei', is at prayer. Formal prayer, then, simply clarifies and intensifies the moving toward the Father wherever people try to become more truly themselves. Another example o[ this wider concept o[ prayer as a movement toward, as a dynamic thrust toward Another, is at the end o[ the prologue. "No one has ever seen God, it is the only Son who is into the bosom o[ the Father, he it is who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). Verse 1 and verse 18 together make an inclusion to the prologue. The prologue begins and ends with the Word's (Son's) dy-namic movement into the Godhead. Here in verse 18, "eis ton kolpon," literally, "into the Father's bosom," is trans-lated like its counterpart in verse 1. Translations hesitate to express the original and prefer, "He who is in the bosom of the Father." Ke.eping the awkward translation makes evident the expression of movement, "into the bosom of the Father." Here is a dynamic thrust, a vital relationship of the Son toward the Father. From eternity, the authentic core of His Person is addressed and called forth in filial love. True prayer is being summoned and responding, a reality as wide as life itself. Beyond Professionalism It has been pointed out to us that many in pastoral care take special training because of their need to be more skillful in their pastoral relationships,z The increas-ing number of pastoral training centers witnesses to the great desire to find an answer to the "how-to-do-it" ques-tion. How to relate to hippies, to young radicals, to stu-dents, to those in crises. Those in pastoral care do look to the masters of behavioral sciences to give them answers [or their urgent questions. Certainly, the assistance o[ these social sciences is o[ tremendous importance. Yet there is a unique dimension which goes beyond the ex-pertise o[ the behavioral sciences, that goes beyond pro- [essionalism to the internal dynamism of one's faith. We n Henri Nouwen, "Pastoral Care," National Catholic Reporter, v. 7, n. 20 (March 19, 1971), p. 8. are referring here not to techniques but to one's spiritual quality, to one's inner thrust, to one's conviction and authenticity to be communicated in encountering others. Jesus Himself cared for souls and their individual needs, for Magdalene, for the woman at the .well, for Nicode-mus. Jesus was skillful in His relationships with them and was not afraid to use His insights into the stirrings of the human heart. But when asked about the source of His knowledge He said: "My teaching is not from myself; it comes from the one who sent me" (Jn 7:16), This exemplifies going beyond techniques and skills and plunging into the heart of relationship to Another. Another text indicating the relationship between inner depth and one's mission, skillfully relating to others, is: "No one has seen God except the only Son who is into the bosom of the Father. He it is who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). "Into the bosom of the Father" means that the Son penetrates into the deepest secrets of the Father. Prayer, as was mentioned, inv~)lves a filial dyna-mism wherein the Holy Spirit, like di~cine energy, seizes the Son, carrying Him into the bosom of the Father. But then John adds: "He [the Son] it is who has made him known," marking the relationship between prayer and one's mission. To make known the Father, to be witness, one must give witness not only for Someone but to what one has seen. The only Son has made known what His divine gaze, in moving deeper into the secret recesses of the Father, has grasped and contemplated. All one's wit-nessing value issues out of a dynamism which has carried him, first of all, into the bosom of the Father. Again we are going beyond professionalism. Making known the Fa-ther, accomplishing one's apostolate, is to issue out of or be blended with searching into the inner recesses of the Father, that is, prayer. If one ceases to "wonder" in the silent reflection of his inner loneliness, if one has not yet begun to imbibe the Spirit by letting Scriptures speak to him, if one rationalizes his way out of praying together with a handful of friends who mediate the Spirit to him --this apostle has not gone beyond professionalism and can scarcely bring hope and ultimate meaning to the lives o£ others.4 Again we can approach the same matter by looking further into the meaning of "into the bosom of the Fa-ther." It means attaining the secret depths of God, plung-ing deeply into reality where God is hidden. Human experiences have privileged moments of disclosure where the infinite Thou is unveiled from within the finite 4 Gerard Broccolo, "The Priest Praying in the Midst of the Fam-ily of Men," Concilium, n. 52 (New York: Paulist, 1970). 4- 4- ÷ Prayer VOLUME 30, ).971 ÷ + + Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 760 thou.~ Searching into the bosom of the Father can mean a sensitivity for the deeper and transcending element that is experienced as co-present. We call this ultimate and hidden depth of human experience "Person" or "Father." The divine presence is hidden in the deepest dimension of human experience and so moving "into the bosom of the Father" can also mean contemplating God's work with man, distinguishing with a growing sensitivity the light and darkness in the human heart. Prayer, in this sense, is the ongoing disclosure of the deepest dimension of reality to us, revealing both God's light and man's darkness. In this perspective, our apostolate is never lim-ited to the application of any technique but ultimately goes beyond professionalism. It is the continuing search for God hidden in the life of the people we serve. Prayer, moving into the bosom of the Father, means searching and finding the God we want to make known in the lives of the people to whom we want to reveal Him. Prayer and Sell-identity ~Arho am 1? Do 1 think of myself as isolated, as exposed to the coincidences of every day, as placed in a universe withont meaning and without a fi~tnre? There are indeed moments in my life when I experience myself in this way. In faith I acknowledge nay new self-identity: I am a son and therefore given a destiny. I nnderstand myself as placed in a context where meaning and purpose are avail-able to me. This destiny makes me someone. In faith, therefore, I acknowledge nay own worth, not because of the efforts I make but because, as a son, I am accepted. In faith, there is no reason for me to be ashamed of myself. As son I rejoice in myselfY This filial identity is expressed and intensified by prayer. When the Son leaves the bosom of the Father and enters human life, his eternal "pros theon" movement is embodied at moments of prayer so that there is, in the evangelist's mind, a certain bond between Christ's prayer and manifesting His filial identity. For instance, at His Baptism there is a solemn declaration of His divine filia-tion by the Father as a result of Jesus' own prayer: "Now when all the people had been baptized and while Jesus after his own baptism was in prayer, heaven opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily shape, like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you' " (Lk 3:21-2). It was in the midst of His prayer that the Spirit's descent and ~ Fons d'Hoogh, "Prayer in a Secularized Society," Concilium, n. 49 (New York: Paulist, 1969), pp. 42 ft. ~ Gregory Baum, Faith and Doctrine (New York: Newman, 1969), p. 18. the Father's proclamation took place as if the Father was awaiting the filial dlan of His son, which prayer embod-ies, before declaring Jesus' divine filiation. Recognizing in Christ's words and gestures the authentic expression of sonship, the Father proclaimed with power that this man is His beloved Son. Notice the bond between Christ's prayer and revealing the true identity of Christ as Son. Again, at the Transfiguration, prayer plays the same role: "He took with him Peter and John and James and went up the mountain to pray" (Lk 9:28). The purpose was to pray and only during the course of their prayer did the incident of the Transfiguration take place. Jesus inwardly gazing upon the Father suddenly makes Him appear visibly what He is in reality: the resplendent glory of the Father (Heb 1:3): "As he prayed the aspect of his countenance was changed and his clothing became bril-liant as lightning" (Lk 9:29). As at the Baptism, by pray-ing Jesus adopts a filial attitude and in this "pros theon" movement the proclamation of divine Sonship is heard. Again, the bond between prayer and His self-identity as Son is seen. Finally, at His death, Jesus prays: "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). By beginning with "Father," Jesus changes the Psalmist's prayer of the Old Testament (Ps 21:6) into a filial prayer. The Psalmist was crying out to Yahweh but Christ trans-figures the Psalmist's prayer by saying "Father," making it a filial prayer. That cry was His last testimony as Son. At the supreme moment Jesus pulls Himself together so that fi'om the very ground of His being there arises the strength to proclaim what is closest to Him, His Sonship. This is the most moving revelation of His Sonship, so moving that it convinces the pagan centurion: "In truth this man was the son of God" (Mk 15:39). In the three most privileged moments wherein Christ is revealed as Son of God we are aware of the role of prayer. At the Baptism, at the Transfiguration, and at His death it was prayer that evoked the manifestation of Jesus' filial identity. In turning toward the Father in prayer Jesus is acting as Son and this gesture provokes on the part of the Father the proclamation of Christ's Sonship. This sponta-neous gesture belongs to the revelation of the mystery of His person. Whenever in prayer, Jesus is unveiling His divinity under a filial form. In Him there exists a bond between prayer and revealing the quality of sonship which allows us to say that prayer manifests and intensi-fies our self-identity as sons. If you are traveling on a train it occasionally happens that the steady clicking of the rails and the movement of the train begin to put you to sleep. When the train slows down and comes to a halt the little jolt involved in stop- Prayer VOLUME 30, 1971 ping awakens you. As-we move from one day into the next, often the sameness in daily situations can put one into a spiritual somnolence. It is when we stop that rhythm by breaking off for the sake of reflection that an awakening of inner life happens. Prayer, reflection, is an awakening to your deeper self, recalling you to what is the most basic dimension within you, to the reality as son. Prayer is discovering what you already are. You do not have to rush after it. It is there all the time. All that is needed is time for it to unfold. If you give it time it will make itself known to you. Christ established a new principle of human life: man becomes his true self espe-cially in prayer. Grace hides a filial identity and it is prayer which reveals to a human person that which is the deepest and truest nobility within onself: the quality as son of the Father. This turning toward the Father affirms and (leepens one's self-identity as son. Like Jesus Himself, man in prayer, continuing the mystery of the Incarna-tion, can become fully aware of what he really is, son. + + + Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS PETER BYRNE, C.Ss.R. Teilhard de Chardin and Commitment There is now incontrovertible evidence that mankind has just entered upon the greatest period of change the world has ever krlown.~ These stirring words were first uttered in 1936 by Tell-hard de Chardin, and they bear scrutiny today more than 30 years later when change seems to be not only taking place but seems to be the most constant feature of life. In fact change occurs so rapidly in these times that soci-ologists tell us that a new generation rises every 5 years. Practically, this means that the mores and values of any age group five years ago seem to the equivalent age group today to be dated. It may seem strange, but while all agree that rapid and radical change is taking place there is very little agreement as to the fundamental nature of the change itself. The symptoms of radical discontent with the past are apparent; but historians, philosoph.ers, theo-logians and scientists hardly dare to guess what will be the shape or appearance of the future, This paper is an attempt to find something constant at the heart and center of the changing world. It will at-tempt to answer the question of man's responsibility to direct and control change, and finally it will say some-thing about the part that religious rnust take in this dy-namic and changing world. We can list the symptoms of change under two head-ings, namely, destructive and constructive. On the de-structive side we witness the breakdown of authority and consequent concern about law and order as traditionally understood. Protest marches and demonstrations are the order of the day and often lead to violence and death. The establishment everywhere is under fire from young people demanding change, relevance, and recognition. I Teilhard de Chardin, Building the Earth (Wilkes Barre, Pa., 1965), p. 22. ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne gives missions and re-treats and can be reached at P.O. Box 95; Bacolod City, Philippines. VOLUME 30, 1971 763 Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 764 Every year brings a new record of abortions, murders, suicides, and violent deaths. Add to this the ever increas-ing number of drug addicts and drop-outs from society, the wars that rage in three continents and that are a constant threat to peace and order and established gov-ernment. This very age which we call the age of progress seems to be also the age of progressive estrangement from God. "Eclipse of the light of heaven, eclipse of God, such indeed is the character of the historic hour through which the world is passing." _o So wrote Martin Buber and man's loneliness and isolation from his fellowmen predictably led to isolation from God who was variously described as absent, silent, or dead. On the constructive side man has also something to show. In the short span of a few decades modern man has learned to fly, invented radio, telephone, and television; he has set up worldwide communications network, trans-planted hearts, harnessed electric and atomic power, pro-longed life expectancy, probed the secrets of the heavens, and landed on the moon. The new style of Christian life already in vigor in the world may be described as "more commitment and less devotion, more spirit and less super-stition, more autonomy and less authority, more society and less herd, more concern and less worry, more sponta-neity and less guilt, more creativity and less rote, more joy and less fear, more humanity and less pomposity, more thought and less testament." :~ Are we picturing only the sunny side of life and shut-ting our eyes to the horrors of life? "Men still merely understand strength, the key and symbol of violence in its primitive and savage form of war.''4 Have we forgotten Nagasaki, Biafra, Dachau--symbol of a Christian nation methodically with the aid of modern science exterminat-ing five million Jews and (often forgotten) six million Christians? This.age .of "civilisation" shows a record of at least one major war every decade leading to direct or in-direct killing of millions. A discussion of the comparative strength of nations means not their power to construct a better society and raise the standard of living, but rather their military resources in terms of minutemen, warheads, rockets, bombs and all kinds of fighting equipment. A well-known writer has said that he always reads the sports page of the newspaper first and the front page last be-cause the former contains the record of man's triumphs and the latter his defeats. We do not ignore the grim ~ Martin Bubcr, The Eclipse oJ God (New York, 1957), p. 23. ¯ ~ Leslie Dcwart, The Foundations oJ BelieJ (New York, 1969), p. 486. ~ Building the Earth, p. 73. reality of the turmoil in the world; it must enter into any view of the total human situation. Before going on to give interpretations of the trend of the human race and to theorize about its final end, we can make one observation here which I think will be accepted by all as true. At any stage of the history of the human race we can put down side by side the best and the worst features of the age, the constructive and the destructive elements that made up the human situation of the time. Numerically they may often seem to cancel each other out, leaving us to ponder the question of Sartre whether progress and life are not finally absurd. However, the good and bad elements of human history differ markedly in one important respect; namely, the bad pass and the good remain. To clarify--the natural disasters like plagues, famine, earthquakes, fires, floods; the man-made calamities of war, murder, and scientific destrnction, which directly and indirectly have claimed millions of lives, we have survived all these (though by no means paid the debt of expiation). Not only has the human race survived all disasters but established a world opinion that seems to make a recurrence of the worst of these virtually impossible. Not only has the human race survived and grown more and more enlightened but the products of man's skill and inventiveness spread further every day and be-come more and more available to people everywhere-- medicine, transportation, communication, education, all adding up to man's conquest of matter and coming to enjoy greater personal fi'eedom. It does seem that general history shows that the good things of life survive while the less worthy perish and pass into comparative oblivion. This is not to say that there were no exceptions to this general rule. Many of the ancients showed skills in archi-tecture, sculpture, acoustics, writing, whose secrets have been lost. This paper is concerned with the future and the pres-ent rather than with the past. What we say of the past has value mainly for our extrapolated assessment of the trend of progress in the future. The attitude that we adopt to-wards the world and towards life is determined by our philosophy, our theology, or simply by our experience. People who have had firsthand experience of war often lose faith in human nature and faith in God Himself. If God exists and is good, how can He permit the sense-less killing of innocent human b(ings? Sartre reached the conclusion that man is utterly alone: "With no ex-cuses behind us or justification before us, every human being is born without reason, prolongs life out of weak- + ÷ + Teiihartl and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 765 ÷ ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 766 ness and dies by chance." "~ For Sartre God did not exist and life was absurd. This does not do justice to Sartre nor do we intend here to dwell on him because it does not seem possible to build a philosophy of hope for the fu-ture on the premise that life is absurd. I should like to contrast here two attitudes towards the future of the earth---one is found in what may be loosely called traditional Catholic spirituality and the other in the works of Teilhard de Chardin. The traditional Catholic expression of the purpose of our life is contained in the oft quoted words of St. Ig-natius Loyola: "Man was created to praise God his Lord, to give Him honor and so to save his soul." 6 The helleni-sation of Christianity brought into clear relief the dis-tinction between body arid soul and practically the mes-sage of salvation as preached was preoccupied with saving the soul which was imprisoned in the body. The great enemies of salvation were the world, the flesh, and the devil. The question was asked: What does. Jesus say to teach us that saving our soul is more important than anything else? And the answer: Jesus says: "What doth it profit a man if he gains the whole world but suffers the loss of his own soul?" 7 If the world posed a threat to the salvation of the soul, the proper attitude towards it was one of detachment if not positive conflict. It should be used to sustain life but never developed for its own sake. It could be used also to store up merit through labor: "Labor as the fulfillment of God's will is a source of merit, atoning for sin and lay-ing up glory in heaven. Through it I work out my own salvation and contribute to the good of my neighbor, both spiritual and material good." s Distrust of the flesh easily led to distrust of human emotions and heavy emphasis on the necessity of asceti-cism. Penance was exalted and a luxurious life frowned upon. Scientific advances were often judged not by bene-fits they conferred but rather by the threat that they posed to a way of life that should be sealed with the cross of Christ. Taken all in all, this world and even the human body was man's temporary prison from which the true Christian looked forward to release for his entry into his true home in heaven. Of course, it was a matter of emphasis acquired little by little as the Church tried to meet the challenges that she had to face. And how does traditional Christianity appear ~ H. J. Blackman (cd.), Reality, Man and Existence (New York, 1965), p. 325. ~A Catholic Catechism (New York, 1963), p. 2. z Ibid., p. 299. s Leo Trese, Guide to Christian Living (Notre Dame, 1963), p. 345. to modern man? He sees it as indifferent if not actually hostile to science, no leader in the world but a deserter, scared of personalism and love; a religion of death, pov-erty, suffering, sorrow, that knows how to weep at the crucifixion but incapable of joy at the resurrection; with no adequate theology of work, success, joy, marriage, youth, hope, life, or love. Young people today are looking for a presentation of Christianity that will endorse their admiration for sci-ence, their love of the workl, and their hopes for the fu-ture. It is Teilhard de Chardin who seems to give Chris-tianity the particular emphasis necessary to meet these aspirations of our time. In contrast, the traditional preaching of Christianity seemed to be more interested in the past than the future; it seemed cold towards science and detached from the earth. This of course was reflected in the practical lives of Christians, causing Christianity to be dubbed as irrelevant. Let us see how Teilhard un-derstood the trend of evolution and the implication of his views in terms of commitment: The situation which Teilhard entered was one in which materialists asserted that everything in this world is governed by blind purposeless determinism; while christians too often were simply fighting a rear-guard action against them, trying to resist as long as possible any scientific theory which seemed to conflict with traditional ideas.° Teilhard was at the same time .a devoted priest and a devoted scientist. His closest friends included unbelievers, agnostics, skeptics--many of them outstanding scientists for whom Christianity was an outdated monolith indiffer-ent to progress. Teilhard wanted to find a way of giving expression to the faith that was in him in a way that the scientists would listen to. And so he began by speaking the language of the scientist in terms that held their attention and commanded their respect because of his diligence in research. However his life work was not intended merely as an apologetic for others but because he felt also within himself the anguish of trying to reconcile progress on earth with the christian ideal of detachment: This has always been the problem of my life; what I mean is the reconciliation of progress and detachment---of a passionate and legitimate love for this great earth and unique pursuit of the kingdom of heaven?° ÷ And so he set out to try to reconcile in a single synthesis + these two. He believed that they could not be opposed + but must in some way complement one another. To effect Teilhard and the synthesis he did not begin with revelation but with Commitment ° Fr. John Russell, A Vision o/Teilhard de Chardin, p. 9. ~°Christopher F. Mooney, Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery Christ (New York, 1966), p. 28. VOLUME 30, 1971 767 + ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 768 what can be observed by human perception. He was not afraid of what science might discover. "We christians," he said, "have no need to be afraid of, or to be unreason-ably shocked by, the resuhs of scientific research . they detract nothing from the almighty power of God nor from the spirituality of the soul, nor from the supernatu-ral character of christianity, nor from a man's superiority to the animals." al For Teilhard the whole world was in a state of becom-ing. It has very obviously developed from a state of chaos to a state of order. It may have taken five billion years to reach its present state. In the course of those years the earth cooled and became gradually disposed to produce and sustain life. Even prior to the emergence of life on earth a very important aspect of evolution is observable, namely, complexity. Electron, atom, molecule--these show not only. succession in time but gradual growth in complexity organized about a center. Teilhard calls this centro-complexity. This process is carried further in vi-ruses and further still in cells which are the first bodies that beyond doubt possess life. Still further tip the scale of development are plants and animals which have their own order of complexity. But Teilhard observed also that growth in complexity is accompanied by a gradual intensification of conscious-ness. By means of the mechanisms of reproduction and association, life on earth moved forward in time and upward on the scale of coxnplexity. Man made his appear-ance one million years ago which in terms of the age of life on earth is quite recent. The thin line of life that has survived and developed on earth ~loes not amount to one millionth of the leaves that have sprouted on the tree of life. Complexity is a measure of time and this complexity in the various forms of life helps us to differentiate the time of their emergence in the course of evolution. But complexity alone does not mark one stage of evo-lution from another. A new element enters in, conscious-ness. The more complex a being becomes, the more centered it is on itself and the more aware it is. This aware-ness gives the being spontaneity of action and the ability to adapt and to dominate. This consciousness is further accompanied with the growth and refinement of the nerv-ous system. Matter achieves the break-through into con-sciousness through the complexification of the cells which produced the nervous system. The "within" of a thing grows more intense as the external o~'ganisation of the nervous system grows more complex. This "within" of things is a spiritual energy that was latent in matter im-n Teiihard de Chardin, Science and Christ (New York, 1968), p. 35. pelling evolution upwards in a glorious ascent. It is called by Teilhard "radial energy" and is that ever vibrating and vital force that has maintained the evolutionary process despite the unimaginable hazards that the process has encountered in the course of its millions of years of duration. A new threshold in the evolutionary process is crossed after due process of divergence, convergence, and emerg-ence. The final emergence is a new development in con-sciousness, something old because it came from the po-tential in the antecedents and emerged through creative union. Nevertheless, the new .emergence can be called new because it cannot be reduced to anything that was there before. Thought was the sign of a new emergence. In primates nature concentrated on the development of the brain. This is the process of cerebralisation. An increase of con-sciousness is in direct proportion to the degree of cere-bralisation, that is, increase in the complexity of brain structure. Among the primates when a certain advanced stage of brain development had been achieved, thought was born and with thought man was born. So that is the position of man in the evolutionary proc-ess. He is not the offshoot of a runaway evolution but the supreme culmination and product of the process itself-- the result of development and effort that covered aeons of time. Man is a person and he personalizes the world. He penetrates the world by his creative thinking and organizes the world-around himself. Man is not only conscious but also self-conscious; he can think and reflect on himself. He can survey the whole length of his own past history; he can see the process of successive emer-gences by which he himself has come to be. He sees the ever enduring quality of "radial energy" that still drives the process onward and upward. Comparing his present state with the state of evolution prior to man he asks the question: Where do we go from here? And then realizes that he does not only have the question but that the answer also is up to man himself. The new quality of the present stage of evolution is that it is under man's control. All stages prior to the emer-gence were at a subhuman level and therefore outside man's own control. In a certain sense man is the creator and not merely the passive recipient of the next stage of evolution. Before determining what are our obligations to the future we must continue the scientific process of observa-tion and try by extrapolation if we can know the trend of evolution for the future. The process leading to emer-gence must continue and this is leading mankind ~o ever greater and greater unity. This socialization of commun-÷ ÷ ÷ Teilhard and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 769 4. 4. Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity is truly the crucial phase of the whole evolutionary process, and the deepest longing of the human heart is that it will never end but that it will reach fulfillment. This fulfillment cannot destroy thought or consciousness or personality. On the contrary it must eternalize them. Teilhard's idea of final synthesis becomes clearer when we contragt it with Bergson's idea that the elan vital (his name for what Teilhard calls radial energy) would finally issue in plurality and divergence: Bergson chose the plurMity and divergence. According to the Jewish philosopher, the world is evolving towards dispersal. As it advances its elements acquire greater autonomy. Each being is to achieve its own utmost originality and its maximum freedom in opposition to others. Perfection, bliss and supreme grandeur belong to the part not to the whole. From this dis-persive point of view socialisation of tb~ ".-.roman masses seems to be absurd regression or servitude. ~Lssentially the universe spreads like a fan; it is divergent in s :~cture."-' Teilbard's conclusion from science was that the universe has a goal and that this goal will be achieved because if the universe bas hitherto been successful in the unlikely task of bringing human thought to birth in what seems to us an unimaginable tangle of chances and mishaps it means that it is fundamentally directed by a power tbat is eminently in control of the elements that make up the universe.'" This power is the omega that must be personal, im-manent, and eternal. The answer to this need felt by the scientist is in the Christ of revelation. "By itself science cannot discover Christ--but Christ satisfies the yearnings that are born in our hearts in the school of science." 14 This is the achievement of Teilhard--to show how sci-ence and Christianity can join bands in accomplishing the final destiny of mankind. "Humanity," he says, "evolves in such a way ;is to form a natural unity whose extension is as vast as the earth." a~ Greater planetization, greater socialization, greater unity in love, this is the stage of development that we have reached. This conclu-sion is compatible with science and doubly borne out by our faith. "A passionate love of growth, of being, that is what we need." ~ (These sentiments were echoed by Pope Panl Vl in Populorum progressio when he said of the underprivileged: "They want to know more, and have more, because what they really want is to be more.") Love is the most universal, formidable, and mysterious of the cosmic energies; and Teilbard defines love as "the '~ Francisco Bravo, Christ in the Thought o] Teilhard tie Chardin, p. 15. ~.s Science and Ctirisg, p. 41. ~ Ibid., p. 36. ~s Ibid., p. 93. ~" Building the Earth, p. 108. attraction which is exercised upon each conscious element by the center of the universe." ~7 "The age of nations is past. The task before us now, if we would not perish, is to shake off our ancient !)rejudices and to build the earth." ~s Therefore Teilhard's contribution in respect to the fu-ture is to show us where the radial energy at the heart of evolution is driving us. We are tending towards not a meaningless annihilation, but, through interaction and love, towards the blending into one commnnity and even into one consciousness of all humanity. In fact, Teil-hard says that the crisis of the present time is a spiritual crisis in the sense that men "do not know towards what universe and final end they shonld direct the driving force of their sonls." ~'~ But we Christians know that prog-ress is leading to the restoration of all things in Christ. History, science, anthropology can systematically ennmer-ate the timeless longings of the human heart and can list the various endeavors to accomplish tlteir fnlfiIlment. The endeavors failed for it is only Christ who meets the demand of the alpha and the omega. Teilhard was able to show that science does not have to eclipse religion or vice versa. In fact both of these need each other if total harmony in the world is to be ac, hieved. Of science Tell-hard said: "The time has come to realise that research is the highest hnman ftmction, embracing the spirit of war and bright with the splendor of religion." '-'~' And of religion he writes: "Out of universal evolution God emerges ill onr consciousness as greater and more neces-sary than ever." ~1 Teilhard summed up his convictions succinctly when he wrote in The Divine Milieu: . three convictions which are the very marrow of christian-ity, the unique significance of Man as the spear-head of life; the position of Catholicism as the central :~xis in the convergent bnndle of human activities; and finally the essential ftmction as consummator assumed by the risen Christ at the cemer and peak of creation: these three elements have driven and con-tinue to drive roots so deep and so entangled in the whole fabric of my intellectual and religious perception that I could now tear them out only at the cost of destroying everything.~ He says that a challenge is put to a C/n'istian to be ac-tive and busily active "working as earnestly as the most convinced of those who work to build up the earth, that Christ may continually be born more fnlly in the world ~ Ibid., F- 45. ~8 Ibid., p. 54. "~' 'S Bciueinldcien agn tdh eC Eharirstth, ,p p. .1 5061. -"r Ibid., p. 59. '-'-'Teilbard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu (London, 1968), p. 38. + + 4- Teilhard and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 + ÷ ÷ Pete~ Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 772 around him. More than any unbeliever never outstripped in hope and boldness." Teilhard spoke also of the task that confronts theolo-gians to think through the implications of evolution so that a new proclamation of thegospel may herald the new era in which we live. For the Christian this world is not only an antechamber to heaven but a task and a vo-cation. He wants Catholic doctrine to be given a dynamic aspect and a universal, cosmic, and futurist dimension34 The turmoil that we witness in the Church today may well be the birth pangs antecedent to a new emergence of Christianity not merely in the shadow of the cross but, more relevant to the hope that is in us, in its shining light. Leslie Dewart expresses the same hope when he writes: "Christian belief may yet become the leading cultural force contributing to the conscious self-creation of the hnman world." For Teilhard religion fixes its gaze not on the past but on the future which offers us the snre promise to make all things new: His concern was to blaze a trail for the new type of christian of his dreams---one in whom love for the task of living here on earth in an evolving world would coincide with a love for Christ, goal and crowning glory of that world; a christian whose vision would be focused upon the future and whose faith would take full account of the world's new dimensions; a christian in whom openness toward all mundane values would be matched with an unconditional commitment to God."~ It is important to note that involvement with the world and commitment to God if properly understood do not produce any dichotomy in man. It rather answers to the dual natnre of man "slime o~ the earth made into the image and likeness of God." ~ Modern psychology and related sciences now show that for mental health it is absolntely necessary to preserve these two in a fine bal-ance. "Moral norms," writes Erich Fromm, "are based upon man's inherent qualities, and their violation results in mental and emotional disintegration." zs If we do succeed in achieving the balance required it will be due not only to knowledge but also to faith and hope and the Holy Spirit. We are in the world not merely to foster evolution at a natural level: "In the life of the individual Christian as well as in the life of the Church as a whole there is an immediate and transcendent relationship to the Person of Christ which is independ~ent of all human ~ Science and Christ, p. 68. " N. M. Wildiers, An Introduction to Teilhard de Chardin (Lon-don, 1968), p. 123. '-'~ Leslie Dewart, op. cit., p. 689. '¯-'~ Wildiers, op. cit., p. 161. .,r Genesis 1:27. = Erich Fromm, Man ]or Hirnsel! (Greenwich, Corm, 1968), p. 17. progress and which cannot be reduced to any mere hu-man energy." .~9 Teilhard's pre6ccupation with his particular point of view and the particular purpose of his synthesis may have led him to understate the radical nature of the Incarna-tion and Redemption as a free gift of God apart from creation. Yet again it may be merely a question of empha-sis. He expressly left it to theologians to think through the implications of his theories for Christian doctrine as a whole. In this connection it would be interesting to ask what Teilhard thought of the religious life, aml how it fits into his world vision. He did not treat of the subject explicitly at any great length but we can gather some of his ideas on the subject, We can state at once that, in spite of many trials from superiors, Teilhard remained faithful to the Society of Jesus and even said: "The faintest idea of a move to leave the Order has never crossed my mind." ~0 He saw fidelity to the Order as the only reasonable course for him. We can go at once to the heart of the matter by stating that the bond of union among men in the final stage of evolution is love, and love is also the pnrpose and the essence of the religious life. According to Teilhard it is only with man that love appears on earth. Sexuality ap-peared first in the evolntionary history of the world as an exclusively physical phenomenon h~ving as its primary function the conservation of the biological species. But with the coming of man sex begins to manifest a spiritual dimension which is ever expanding. The personalizing function of sexual love is becoming more and more prominent. Teilhard uses sexual love in a much wider sense than the merely genital: "Sexual love is rather the personal union in oneness of being achieved by a man and a woman, an interpenetration and constant exchange of thoughts, dreams, affections, and prayers." al He says that there is a general drift of matter towards spirit in sexual love the ideal of which is found in Christ who authenticated celibacy, "a human aspiration that had been maturing in the human soul." :v, Celibacy is the evidence of humanity's ability to affect the transcendence to which it aspires. Speaking of his own witness to this he says: To the full extent of my power, because I am a priest I wish from now on to be the first to become conscious of all that the world loves, pursues and suffers; I want to be the first to seek, ~ Christopher F. Mooney, op. cit,, p. 209. ~Teilhard de Chardin, Letters to Leontine Zanta (London, 1969), p. 33. ~t Charles W. Freible, S.J., "Teilhard, Sexual Love, and Celibacy," R~w~w ro~ R~L~C,~OUS, v. 26 (1967), p. 289. ~'~ Ibid., p. 290. 4- 4- 4- Teiihard and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 773 to sympathise and to suffer; the first to open myself out and sacrifice myself--to become more widely human and more nobly of the earth than any of the world's servants.= By his vows he wished to recapture all that was good in love, gold, and independence. The religious therefore, far from being a deserter is the witness to the final end of man's striving, to his aspira-tion for spiritualization and complete Christification of his life. Christ preaches purity, charity, and self-denial-- but what is the specific effect of purity if it is not the concen-tration and sublimation of the manifold powers of the soul, the unification of man in himself? What again does charity effect if not the fusion of multiple individuals in a single body and a single soul, the unification of men among themselves? And what finally does christian self-denial represent, if not the deconcentration of every man in favor of a more perfect and more loved Being, the unification of all in one.~ The religious is precisely the especially chosen to show forth in'his life the joy of the new resurrection to which the whole of humanity tends. Finally, the consummation in glory that mankind awaits is not merely the dream of a distant future. The transformation and divinization of the universe occurs sacramentally in the Mass when the bread and wine rep-resenting mankind and mankind's universe become Christ. The Euchararistic consecration renders present the final victory for mankind which will bring a new heaven and a new earth and Christ will be all in all. The Divine Mih'eu, p. 105. Science and Christ, p. ~4. + + + Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 774 SISTER MARY HUGH CAMPBELL The. Particular Examen-- Touchstone of a Genuinely Apostolic Spirituality There is perhaps today no prayer-category considered so lifeless, so vulnerable to attacks of "formalism," so rejected as a lure of regression into an exclusive and introverted Jesus-and-I existence as is the particular ex-amination of conscience. Yet it held pride of place in a spirituality characterized as one of dynamism, initiative, and filan--that of Ignatius Loyola, a spirituality pecul-iarly suited, it would seem, to attract adherents in our last third of the twentieth century, when man has finally admitted his basic call to be a movement out of himself to serve that brother who has now displaced the sun as the center of his universe. The ideal of Ignatius was first and last apostolic: "To serve Christ through the aid of souls in companionship." 1 And to attain it, "he seemed to count primarily on the examens of conscience, exercises from which he never dispensed." "' One of his early followers, Louis Lallemant, the master of novices who formed Isaac Jogues, echoed Ignatius in his insistence upon the apostolate as the sum-mit of the spiritual life: "The last reach of the highest perfection in this world is zeal for souls." s And to attain this ideal, he prescribed the same "slow work of purifica- 1 Cited by John C. Futrell, S.J., Making an Apostolic Community o] Love (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 14. -"Alexandre Brou, S.J., La spiritualitd de saint lgnace (Paris: Beauchesne, 1928), p. 23. aCited by Francois Courel, S.J., ed., La vie et La doctrine spiri-tuelle du P~re Louis Lallemant (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), p. 25. Subsequent references to Courel are references to his intro-duction; when the work itself is in question, Lallemant will be cited. Sister Hugh is a member o~ the Di-vinity School of St. Louis University; 3825 West Pine; St. Louis, Missouri 63~08. VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Hugh REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 776 tion and discernment." 4 Francis de Sales, accorded new relevance todi~y as having been among the first to sense the need of a spirituality adjusted to life in the secular sphere, himself a product o{ Jesuit training, taught Phil-othea in his Devout I~i[e that the examen, which he called the "spiritual retreat," was "the great heart of de-votion," which on occasion "can supply the lack of all other prayers." '~ Each of these was a man of ~nvolvement; and for each of them Lallemant's dictum held true: the attention he paid to external things, instead of weaken-ing his union witlt God, served rather to strengthen it, because in the last analysis, the equilibrium of the apos-tolic life was a matter of the love which was to be exer-cised in everything. And for each of the three, the partic-ular examen--by whatever name--held primacy of place among spiritual exercises. The word "discernment" is enjoying a new vogue at the moment; it is vaguely sensed that the notion is cen-tral to the spiritual life in a century of acceleration, and that in some nebttlous way it means a form of prayer-in-activity for which many are searching. This is very true. Yet the term has a disciplined precision of meaning: it is the name for the entire, dynamic process of discovering and responding to the actual word of God here and now.~ It is the core of Ignatian spirituality. Within it--and one might add, only within it--"the practice of daily examens of conscience is completely intelligible." ~ A life of discernment is one in which one's core experi-ence of self-identity as openness to Christ personally known is the ground of all his conscious choices. Each significant decision is made after prayer and a careful weighing of all available evidence (a vahtable element of tire latter being often the counsel of another), and con-firmed--~ tlways, of course, in faith--by the peace which testifies to its affinity with one's primordial experience of being possessed by Christ. Gradually even lesser decisions are sttccessively, almost instinctively, submitted to the same process of alignment until one ends by finding Christ everywhere, as willing and accepting this concrete service of love. Discernment is not ttnderstood, however, as the sum toted of prayer: moments of distancing from the human situation are essential if one is to give expres-sion to his faith-experience of union with Christ, an ex-pression without which it cannot know new illumination or deepening. Only in this way can he be assured of ~ Courel, Vie, p. 24. '~ Cited by Aloys Pottier, S.J., Le P. Louis Lallemant et les grands spirituels de son temps (Paris: Tequi, 1928), pp. 342 f. passim. 6John C. Futrcll, S.J., lgnatian Discernment (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), pp. 47-52. r Ibid., p. 81. finding Christ in more ambiguous choices, and in those even more painful decisions in which he discerns the paradox of absurdity to be the condition for his finding him. The increasing incalculability, if one may so term it, of man's evolving universe might alone render discernment a delicate, even a hazardous, process. Personal notes of Ignatius reveal the prolonged tension which important decisions produced in him, and the slow, painful groping for certitude which followed them. Yet difficult as these were, he very realistically saw that man had within him sources of darkness which could render any discernment at all impossible. Another element was necessary before one could hope to make decisions in the clarity of truth: personal freedom from anything that could close him to the light. As Lallemant, who followed him, was later to call it, the other pole of discernment was "the study of purity of heart." 8 An illuminating study might result from a search into the imagery by which saints and theologians throughout the ages have inscaped man's frightening potency for evil. Olier's "stagnant pool," Marmion's "depth of our way-wardness," Rahner's "deadly abyss of [utility"--all alike point to a reality which it is impossible to dismiss. Lalla-anant wrote very candidly of the "muddy well" in which "a multitude of desires are unceasingly fermenting," a well "full of false ideas and erroneous judgments." ~ To assign to each of these its local habitation and its name-- to say them as they are in us--is the cotmterpoise of discernment, and an exercise at least as painful as the former. Examination of conscience, then, is a proviso, a sine qua non. And Lallemant recognized that "the heart re-coils from nothing so much as this search and scrutiny. all the powers of our soul are disordered beyond measure, and we do not wish to know it, because the knowledge is humiliating to us." 10 To dispense with it is, as P. de Ponlevoy incisively saw, to rester darts le vague.11 On the contrary, one who "submits to the real" has given up the dreams which kept him marking time, because he finally found the real to be truer and less deceiving than dreams,v' Seen in this light the examen becomes a disci-pline of authenticity, a sharpening of the pole of purity of heart which ensures gentfineness of docility to the Spirit. Lallemant saw a direct correlation between super- Courel, Vie, p. 81. Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 140. Ibid., pp. 141-2. Cited by Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 344. a~Antoine Delchard, S.J., "L'filection darts la vie quotidienne," Christus, v. 14 (1958), pp. 206-19 passim. ÷ ÷ ÷ Particular Examen VOLUME ,~0, 1971 4" 4" 4" REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 778 ficial examens and lack of sensitiveness tt~ the guidance of the Spirit; on the other hand, he was convinced that "they who have applied themselves for three or four years to watch over their interior, a.ud have made some prog-ress in this holy exercise, know already how to treat a multitude of cases with address and absence of all rash judgment." 1.s It would be difficult to label as "formalism" the exigen-cies of Lallemant's asceticism: "guard of one's heart; deep and prolonged examens; progressive purifications contin-ued for years." 14 He defined purity of heart to mean "having nothing therein which is in however small a degree opposed to God and the operation of His grace." 1.5 And he went so far as to say that this was the exercise of the spiritual life against which the spirit of evil directed most opposition. He urged those under his charge to guard themselves carefully from any deliberate resistance to the Spirit by venial sin, to learn to recognize the first disorderly movements of their hearts, to watch over and regulate their thoughts, so as to recognize the inspirations of God--so as to be able, in other words, clearly to discern the word of God in the concrete situa-tions which presented themselves. He declared that "we never have vices or imperfections without at the same time having false judgments and false ideas." a0 And yet he insisted that this work of moving toward ever greater openness and freedom be done calmly, and especially that it be joined to a deep devotion to the person of Christ: examination was never to become the cult of itself. Such constant, increasingly more honest surveillance is taxing; he admitted this. Actually, in the words of those he directed, "he required nothing else ]rom us but this constant attention." His ultimate counsel was that of Christ: Vigilate--watch; until n~thing should escape one's attention, until the inner roots from which egotism took its rise were destroyed. He expected, in the end, spontaneity without strain, sureness of discernment, readiness, in the service of souls, for the cross. And among those who listened, noted, and demanded of himself this most to be dreaded of all disciplines, of all confronta-tions, was Isaac Jogues. Many have been alienated from the exercise because they conceived the medium as the message; the little check-list of "G's," familiar from the Exercises, was iso-lated from the spirit--so absolutely aware of the needs of his own temperament, yet so absolutely respectful of the freedom of others--of the Basque soldier who drew it up Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 262. Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 168. Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 80. Ibid., p. 101. for his own searing symbols of an utterly blunt honesty with himself. His strategy had the labored realism of one for whom the calculated small gains of military planning had been a fact of daily experience; and if his proposed concentration upon one fault at a time has impressed many as me.chanistic and rigid, it has been suggested that their preference for prolonging sterile efforts endlessly is hardly less painful.17 And Ravignan notes, in this connec-tion, "How strong one is, when he concentrates all his energy in unity. To think of only one thing, wish only one thing, do, finally, only one thing is the secret of all power." 18 And in the mind of Ignatius, this "one thing" was response in freedom to the word one had clearly discerned. In the end, it had become quite simply his life. No less than the check-list, the well-known "five points" of the two daily examens have been misunder-stood and exteriorized. Ignatius saw three different times of day and two examinations to be involved when he advocated the practice; but the laconic outline in which he explains them must be seen in the light of his final "Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," especially in its close where he sees God as a fountain from which all goodness pours out on him, a light in which everything bathes. Gerard Manley Hopkins has, in an unfinished lyric, given rich expression to Ignatius' simple prose: Thee, God, I come from, to thee go, All day long I like fountain flow From thy hand out, swayed about Mote-like in thy mighty glow. What I know of thee I bless, As acknowledging thy stress On my being and as seeing Something of thy holiness . '~ This is why the first point is a prayer of gratitude for the goodness and forgiveness which are man's twofold debt. Louis du Pont has probed the familiar method in order to discover its marrow: the optimism which pre-scribed gratitude first, thus guarding against sadness; the realism of seeing that the memory is so unfaithful, the mind so darkened, and the will so loveless that there is deep need of prayer for light. The examination itself, the third point, is a sincere acknowledgment of good, where this is recognized; and in the admission of sin or failure there is a counsel to do this in a spirit of the untranslata-ble douceur--that gentleness which refrains from turning bitter reproaches against itself, but rather grieves over the H. Pinard de la Boullaye, S.J., La spiritualitd ignatienne (Paris: Plon, 1949). Cited by Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 93. W. H. Gardner and N. H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Oxford University, 1970), n. 155, p. 194. + + Particular E~amen VOLUME 30, 1971 779 + ÷ ÷ Sister Hugh REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 780 injury to One who has poured himself out, as fountain and light, in such generous giving. After the expression of perfect sorrow, one is urged in a fifth point to an efficacious resolution--so, practical as to foresee and so circumvent future failure. Previsioned when rising, this exercise is to be made at two different times of the day--at noon, and again after the evening meal,.and this in addition to a final, general examination made before retiring. Such a discipline can only confirm the fact that, throughout the Exercises, Ig-natius "supposes that one knows where he is going and wants to get there, and is ready to take the best means, then to examine those which present themselves, to weigh them, to choose them with knowledge of the cause." 20 In a word, lie s~pposed that one was ready to discern, among many means, that one whose cause was the inspi-ration of the Spirit; through long experience with his own peculiar cast of egotism, he would swiftly dismiss false weights. And those who followed this profound psy-chologist- saint did know where they were going, and did want to get there: the summit of apostolic zeal. Such a man as Claude de la Colombi~re, to take a single exam-ple, vowed never to pass from one occasion to another without a backward-forward look: from self-scrutiny to discernment. Again, from these particular exercises, described as j;ournalier, Ignatius never dispensed: "The importance accorded these examens is the touchstone of truly igna-tian spirituality." '-'x And the ~ournalier--"daily"--has been interpreted by some as actually occupying the whole day. For such a man as Lallemant, it actually did. He described as one of the greatest of all graces that of being "SO watchful that the least irregular movement rising in the heart is perceived and immediately corrected, so that in the space of a week, for example, we should perform very few external or internal acts of which grace is not the principle."'-'" Particular examen and discernment thus become arsis and thesis of a single life, until finally "some have no need of making a particular examen, be-cause they no sooner commit the least fault than they are immediately reproved for it and made aware of it; for they walk always in the light o~ the Holy Spirit, who is their guide. Such persons are rare, and they make a par-ticular examen, so to say, out of everything." 2~ All the energies of the person are concentrated in a single care not to sully the light which ponrs into and then from him, an instrument entirely at the service of Christ. Such ~ Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 83. .-t Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 335. = Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 228. '-"~ Ibid., p. 229. men have reached that fullness of the apostolate which is the summit of the spiritual life, discerning as they do in entire freedom that which is most conducive to the reign of God. So conceived, the examen is possible under an infinite number of forms; endlessly supple, it can be adapted to a variety of conceptual, cultural, and temperamental differ-ences. But always it is a sincere and considered pursuit of an ideal which is one's own most personal name given him by God: "The particular examen, practiced by a soul which has begun to climb, is sacrifice which has reached the stage of being one's rule of life." ,.,4 Far from having become "irrelevant" in spiritualities vowed to the genu-ine only, it is rather the infallible touchstone of their authenticity. -"~ Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 96. ÷ ÷ ÷ Particular Examen VOLUME 30, 1971 78] JAMES C. FLECK, S.J. The Israeli Kibbutz and the Catholic Religious. Community: A Study of Parallel Communal Life Styles j. c. Fleck, S.J., lives at Apartment 208; 150 Driveway; Ottawa, Canada. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The kibbutz movement in Israel consits of about 250 agricultural-industrial collectives. They have a popula-tion of 90,000, slightly tinder 4% of the Jewish popula-tion in the State of Israel. This population includes full members (Jewish men and women, nearly all married, who have completed their military service and have been accepted by the kibbutz after a trial period of a year or two), the children of the kibbutz members, selected lead-ers of the Jewish youth movement abroad who plan even-tually to join a kibbutz, U1pan students (predominantly Jewish) who combine study and work on the kibbutz for periods ranging from six months to a year, and volun-teers (predominantly non-Jewish) who volunteer to work on the kibbutz for at least a month in return for room, board, and a very small amount of spending money. The first kibbutz was founded in Israel in 1909. The largest period of growth was prior to and immediately after the Second World War. In this period the kibbutz population represented nearly 10% of the nation. In the past fifteen years there has been no significant growth in the number of kibbutzim. The slightly increasing num-bers of kibbutzniks is accounted for primarily by internal growth, due to an increasing average family size. There are four federations to which nearly all kib-butzim belong. Each one is delineated by the political party to which it is or was affiliated. One, the smallest federation comprising 4,000 members (3% of the total kibbutz population), is religious, consisting of practicing Orthodox Jews. The other kibbutz federations shade fi'om non-religious to anti-religious. The land tilled by the kibbutzim is owned by the Is-raeli government throngh the Jewish National Fund. The original physical plant is financed by the govern-ment on low-interest long-term loans. When a kibbutz becomes operationally profitable it pays regular corpora-tion taxes. In addition, the kibbutz must pay a national consumption tax on the living expenditures of its mem-bers comparable to the personal income tax paid by the general public. The purpose of this study is to examine parallels in the life style between the kibbutz movement and Catholic religious orders. Wbile the common life in the two insti-tutions are often merely analogous, they are in many instances equivalent. Thus, a knowledge of the kibbutz movement can provide valuable insights in examining religious orders. The Kibbutz as a Religious Sect The basic motivating factors that built the kibbutz movement are: (l) Zionism, (2) Marxism, (3) the German Youth (Wandervogel) Movement. The founders of the kibbutz movement rejected the religion, the life style, the family structure, and the business interests of the Euro-pean Jewish community of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Wandervogel Movement fostered a spirit of youth peer group identity, a desire to return to nature, and a spirit of travel and adventure. Marx offered a model of productive and consumptive collectivism in a secular society. Zionism offered an escape from European anti-semitism and a positive aspiration of nation-building.~ The Pristine "'Religious" Values Based on the Boy Scouts, the Wandervogel Movement had basic principles which were incorporated into the kibbutz ideology. They include: truth, loyalty, brother-hood, dependability, a love of nature, obedience to the group, joy in living, generosity in work, courage, and purity in tbougbt, word, and deed. This latter was inter-preted to mean opposition to drinking, smoking, and sex-ual relationships. The Youth Movement believed all the pettiness and sordidness of human behavior was a func- ~ Melford E. Spiro. Kibbutz, Venture in Utopia, New York, pp. 44, 48, 175 ft. 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 783 ÷ ÷ J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 784 tion of city living with its concomitant luxuries and false conventions." Consequently the early kibbutz movement was marked by asceticism. There was a rejection of material comfort, abstinence from alcohol and tobacco, no "ball room" (lancing, no motion pictures, simple housing and cloth-ing, no children (since they would pnt a financial burden on the community), communal property, common toilets and showers, dormitories, common dining hall, simple and inexpensive food, an emphasis on hard physical work and menial tasks. The Faith of the Kibbutz Marxism is the religion of the kibbutz. The basic maxim is: "From each according to his ability; to each according to his need." Initially the kibbntzniks hoped to find a form of collective salvation in withdrawal from the world and the re-establishing of a microcosm o{ the per-fect society based on fellowship. It next blossomed into a militant sect devoted to converting the world.:~ Today the kibbutz movement has returned to its pristine withdrawal state of conversion by witness. Karl Marx has been the prophet for this faith. His writings served as intellectnal fare, inspiration, sacred and therefore infallible norms.4 The attitude of the So-viet Union vis-a-vis Israel has had the effect of diluting kibbutz Marxism. Bnt in the early years Marx was dog-matic truth. Human failings could be tolerated, but not political differences. Even today, deviations from either basic Marxist concepts or pristine kibbutz ideals offer occasions for schisms and deep polarizations within a par-ticular kibbntz. Faihlre of a given kibbutz to vote "cor-rectly" in a national election is cause for its ejection from the basic kibbutz federation and political party to which it is allied. The Vows Chastity--While there is no binding force of conscience eqnivalent to the traditional religious vows, membership in a kibbutz implies a permanent but not binding commit-ment. Members are free to leave if they lose their "voca-tion," and their departure is mourned in the same way a religious regrets the departnre of a close friend from the Order. The "apostate," however, is welcomed back if he wishes to return. But with this exception of personal freedom for departure, permanent commitment to the group ideal is a sine qua non for a happy kibbutz life. The sexual idealism in the kibbntz movement has II)id., p. 43. Ibid., p. 180. Ibid., p. 184. never been consistent. The Boy Scout concept of purity derives from the Christian ideals of its European and American proponents. The Jewish founders of the kib-butz movement experienced tiffs value as a rejection of the romantic sexual conduct of the European society o~ their youth. They wanted to change the false sexual mo-rality of the city, the patriarchal authority of the male, the dependence of the child on his father, and the subjec-tion of women.~ The sense of "organic community" that the early kib-butzniks experienced as young men and women is related to their freedom from the restrictions imposed upon sex-uality by their contemporary society. They practiced a trial and error, sexual code that included polygyny and polyandry. Mating was entered into at will. But as the original founders aged, their sexual attitudes have be-come surprisingly conventional.6 Pre-marital sex among the school children is actively discouraged. Marriage is today a formal, and often religious, event. Patriarchal ties have returned. The relative affluence of the kibbutzim has ended the era of few or no offspring. This change has been augmented by the population growth stimulus instituted by the Israeli government in response to military manpower requirements connected with national security. Yet casual sex has no moral stigma within kibbutz life, and abortion requests are routinely handled by the kib-butz medical committee. These seeming contradictory ex-periences can be understood only in the context of the general Jewish belief that sexuality is a personal matter, not one of group concern, unless the sexual activity has consequences affecting the community. The Spartan attitude toward sexual abstinence ended when the young men and women who founded the kib-butzim experienced the eroticism engendered by "organic community." This youthful abandon has subsequently matured into a conventional sex-marriage code no differ-ent from that of the general Israeli populace. And with the lack of privacy in the kibbutz as well as the dispropor-tionate amount of social damage that infidelity wreaks in a small community, kibbutz sexnal morality approximates that of any small village. Poverty--Just as sexual morality has had an erratic path in the kibbutz history, so too their attitude toward the possession of material goods. The pristine attitude of the founders was .essentially a negative reaction to the bour-geois mentality of their forefathers in the Jewish communi-ties of Enrope. Ostracized in many instances by the Gentile majority, the Jew was unable to compete for social and n Ibid., p. 54. ~ Ibid., p. 110-117. 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLU~E 30, 1971 785 J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 786 economic prestige with his non-Jewish counterparts. As a result, the ghetto Jew attained personal ego satisfactions in business acumen, especially in areas connected with money where traditional Christian restrictions on usury opened up opportunities. Intellectual pursuits leading to l~rominent positions in the professions were a later development of the 19th and 20th centuries. But the possession of land and agricultural interests were not part of the self-image of the pre-Israel Jew. The rejection of materialism and capitalism are an integral part of the developing kibbutz ideal. The found-ers, were, almost without exception, intellectuals. The idealization of common labor was for them a cultural revolution. Raised in a tradition of prestige and aspira-tion for upward mobility in society, they deliberately chose the reverse. Instead of aspiring to "rise" in the social ladder, they chose to "descend." 7 Having to do without material possessions was both a concomitant of this conscious decision and a result of it. The early kibbutzniks had what Melford Spiro calls "two moral principles." These were (1) the sacral nature of work and (2) the communal possession of property. Labor was to be a uniquely creative act and an ultimate value. Through labor man would become one with himself, with society, with nature.8 The early kibbutzniks experienced this sacral nature of work in their conquest of the desert and the swamps which were the only lands made available to them by the Arab landowners prior to 1948. Those kibbutzim estab-lished after Israel became a State were often located in similar agriculturally disadvantaged areas for strategic reasons. Personal sacrifice and "doing without" were per-sonal virtues that made possible the economic success of the group effort. All personal aspirations and creature comforts had to be subordinated to the common good. With the exception of a few struggling new kibbutzim along the post-1967 borders, this period of sacrifice has passed. Although limits on the amount of water that can be used for cultivation and a crop surplus condition in Israeli agriculture have imposed ceilings on land use, many collectives are maintaining and increasing profita-bility by operating factories which in turn have increased the kibbutz standard of living. The communal facilities that were an economic necessity in the pioneer era have given away to luxury apartments, a private social life, advanced education, extended vacations, and other phe-nomena related to economic well-being. Ideological ascet-icism is not an operative principle in contemporary kib-butz life. Not surprisingly, a great number of the contem- 7 Ibid., p. 14. s Ibid., p. 12. porary problems in the kibbutz movement stem from the vast discrepancy between the physical privations of the early kibbntzim and the high standard of living and expec-tations of the present members. Obedience--In a first glimpse of the organizational strncture of a kibbutz, one would discern little there that reflects the monarchical authority structnre that pervades both Catholic ecclesiastical organizations and the religious orders. The ideal of the kibbutz is total democracy. Execu-tive authority is a delegated power, revocable, and subject to a constant change of personnel. The executive branch functions only to implement group decisions. Each indi-vidual kibbutz is essentially autonomous from the federa-tion to which it belongs. The officers of the federation have no direct antbority over the activities of any mem-ber kibbutz. All decisions are made at the local level by vote and the majority opinion is binding on tbe minor-ity. But no majority is irrevocable. The minority may campaign for a reversal. There is a minority compliance "by necessity" but nothing resembling the "submission of tile understanding." Tile will of the majority has to be obeyed for pragmatic reasons, to preserve the common good. But any decision can be, and often is, reversed. Even certain "essentials" of the founders can be changed if the kibbutz members no longer consider them a cur-rent value, or if the life of the kibbutz itself is at stake by continued adherence to an outdated fundamental princi-ple. The typical kibbutz is closer to the Benedictine model of religions life than to the Jesuit form. Membership in a particular kibbutz is akin to monastic stability. The his-toric connection between the monastery and its fields is similar to the main kibbntz economic enterprise. The kibbutz, like the monastery, has a self-contained cultural environment; library, music, beautification of the grounds, locally produced music and entertainment, and the chapter. Unlike the monastic uadition, no kibbutz has a perma-nent official like that of a life-tenured abbot. Nor do office holders have the long terms allowed by canon law. The kibbutz executive personnel pool is rotated from one ex-ecutive task to another with short interim periods as com-mon laborers. Executive efficiency is somewhat reduced by such rapid turnovers, but the movement prefers this to an entrenched hierarchy. Fnrther, it increases the partici-pation of the membership in decision-making operations of the kibbutz. The nsual term for a kibbutz office is one year.° For a few highly specialized tasks, for example, the treasurer, it runs two years, no more. ~ Ibid., p. 78; see Dan Leon, The Kibbutz, a New Way of Life, Oxford, 1969. 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 787 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '788 In a remarkable number of ways the kibbutz resembles traditional Catholic religious life. A messianic ideological basis of membership is parallel to both.Being a kibbutz-nik is "a way of life" comparable to a religious vocation. The inOividual is expected at times to sacrifice his per-sonal ambitions and opportunities to the group needs. The members' meeting has many of the aspects of a com-munity liturgy, as do the secular celebrations in the kib-butz of the national and religious holidays. Each kibbutz follows a common style of life and the kibbutz is often referred to as an extended family. Aspirants must try out the life and be accepted. They usually must dispose of their material wealth upon admission. There is security for the ill and the infirm. Members are not rewarded economically for their productivity or profitability. The federation to which each kibbutz belongs resem-bles to some extent the province of the religious order. Recruiting of youth leaders, new members, Ulpan stu-dents and vohlnteers are bandied at tbe central level as are contacts with the government and the army. The federation has an internal tax system to equalize income discrepancies between richer and poorer kibbutzim. Most federations have produced a model constitution for their member kibbutzim. Each kibbutz is taxed a number of its members to staff federation offices and overseas re-cruiting posts (missions). The federation, in union with the national trade union, handles both buying and sell-ing cooperatives, runs research centers and regional high schools for kibbntz children.1° Today the federations have joined toget_her to found a centralized kibbutz uni-versity to provide for the increasing number of kibbutz youth who want both a university education and an envi-ronment in which their kibbutz values will be preserved. The arguments used for establishing this new educational effort are ahnost identical to those used in the 19th and 20tb centuries for Catholic high schools and universities. Charity Fraternal love, over and above its function as a crite-rion for true Christianity, has been considered a hallmark of religious life, and a sine qua non of common life. In the "organic community" which the founders of the kib-butzim experienced in their pioneer days in Israel, this same basic group fellowship and fraternal love was pres-ent. The movement was small and each person knew every other member well. They were economically and socially interdependent. Their lives depended on mutual security. They were, as a group, alone in a foreign and (langerous land, cnt off from outside aid. Their bond of friendship was solidified in a common ideology, in oppo-a" Op. cir., Leon, p. 158. sition to the false value system of the world, and in a common enemy, the Arab. These same three basic princi-ples have beeu present in every religious order; some concrete vision of Christianity conceived by their found-ers, the false value system of a pagan or barely Christian world, and the enemy, successively the devil, the pagan Romans, and finally heretics. The passage of time and aging has effected major changes in the first ardor of the kibbutzniks, as it has on the members of many long established religious orders. One kibbutznik reported to Spiro: "The evening meetings, (lances and song, group conversation, and the sharing of experiences--these are the phenomena of youth. The retirement to their own rooms and the substi-tution of private for group experiences is not the result of the influx of stangers . It represents . an inevitable retreat on the part of middle-aged people from the group-centered activities of an adolescent youth move-ment, to interests which are more congenial to their own age--children, friends, and personal concerns." ~x The kibbutz movement has faced up to a reality which hitherto has destroyed practically every ntopian society ever attempted by man, except possibly the Catholic reli-gious orders, the inability to re-create a new man in the institutiug of a new way of life?e Some of the larger kibbutzim have nearly 2000 residents. Only a handful are less than 100. Universal friendship is obviously impossi-ble. Deep interpersonal relationships are cuhivated be-tween husband, wife, and their immediate family. Other close friendships are built around those in neighboring apartments or those whom they meet in work fnnctions. Relationships to other kibbutzniks is functional not per-sonal. Nor does the kibbutz attempt to abolish natural indi-vidual aggressive tendencies. It merely channels them into socially acceptable substitntes. Gossip and petty criti-cism abound. Quarreling, but no physical violence, is common. Skits at community entertainments satirize non-conformists. Aggression is channeled into pride in one's own family, work ability, success of one's economic branch in the kibbutz, and participation in national politics?:~ If universal charity were an essential prerequi-site for the successful functioning of kibbutz society, the movement would have failed long ago. The system has been devised to operate without it, subordinating indi-vidualism to the common good, and substituting for char-ity the personal involvement of each kibbutznik in group decision making. Op. cit., Spiro, p. 216. Ibid., p. 236, 103. Ibid., p. 103-107. + Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 789 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. C. Fleck, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 790 Generation Gap One of the "essentials" of the early kibbutz movement was the communal raising of children. Immediately after birth, the child was placed with his peers and raised by a community appointed nurse. This same system was fol-lowed throughout childhood. Boys and girls of the various kibbutz parents were raised as brothers and sisters. This accounts for the lack of a normal amount of pre-marital sexual activity among young people who live in close proximity even after puberty. Sex activity between boys and girls of the same age groui~ would be incest, an almost unheard of problem in a kibbutz. However, as the young people raised in this communal manner have returned to their kibbutz as full adult members, they have generally asked for a major change in the system. They want to raise their own children at home. Throughout the entire kibbutz movement this issue has been raised. In every federation except the one which is most Marxist-oriented the young people have endetl the absohlte commtmal rearing of the children, Since the young couples were ntu.nerically outnumbered, the process by which they won over the majority opposed to their demands for a revolutionary change proves en-lightening. The kibbutz at Kefar Blum recently under-went such an experience.~4 When the young people pro-posed this radical change they were voted down by an 80-20% vote. When the results were tabulated the young people decided they would leave this kibbutz and found one of their own with their rules. This would eventually lead to the death by attrition of the older kibbutz. Recog-nizing this, the older members formed reconciliation committees designed to keep up the hopes of the young and change the minds of the old. A new vote was taken several weeks after the intial setback. This time the youngster's proposal won by an 80-20 vote. As the government is anxious to form new kibbutzim in border areas, young Israelis can easily become founders of a new kibbutz, sharing the same challenges and oppor-tunities their elders had in the pioneer years. To over-come this possible source of defection of younger mem-bers, most kibbutzim practice rapid advancement of tal-ented young people into positions of responsibility. There is no waiting for years while the entrenched old guard dies off before the young people can achieve posi-tions of authority and adopt new policies in keeping with the needs of the clay. James c. Fleck, s.J., private notes taken during a study of the kibbntz movement, Israel, October-November, 1970. Employment outside the Kibbutz This is a growing phenomenon in the kibbutz move-ment paralleled by an increasing number of religious men and women employed in apostolic work and employ-ment not part of a corporate apostolate. For a kibbutz member to undertake such work he must have commu-nity approval. While many working outside the kibbutz are employed in various federation projects, an increasing number are engaged in "secular" activity, outside indus-try, government, and teaching. Their salary is either paid directly to the kibbotz or turned in to the kibbntz treas-nrer by the individual. One factor not present in snch kibbutz outside employ-ment is the gradual diminishing interest of the individual in his collective during the months and years the man may be working outside the kibbutz. Since Israel is very small, the outside employee almost always lives on the kibbutz with his family and returns there after work. In the case of those stationed in more remote sections of the country, or working in the government or in the army, they return to the kibbutz each Friday night on the Sab-bath eve. This same holds true of kibbutz students study-ing at the university or the technical institute. The mem-bers do not endanger their commitment to the collective way of life by prolonged absence from their kibbutz. Use o~ Money The strictness of control over independent use of money varies according to which federation the kibbutz is affiliated with. Ha Artzi, the most Marxist, is also the strictest. No one may possess any outside money nor is there an internal money system. The other federations are more flexible. In some each member is paid "script" or "kibbutz money" each month to use in lieu of Israeli currency at the kibbutz store for personal items. In others the members have a charge accotmt credited against a monthly allowance. The Ha .drtzi kibbutzim also require all new members to dispose of all property and money they possess after the intitial trial period. Other kibbutzim permit mem-bers to retain previously acquired wealth and even use the money independently of the kibbutz so long as the member does not use any of the money for improving his own life style in the kibbutz. Some demand that members deposit such funds with the kibbutz on a non-interest bearing basis. The money is returned if the new member ever leaves the kibbutz. In most kibbutzim today individual members are given a monthly credit covering items over which he may exer- 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30~ 1971 791 4. 4. 4. J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 792 cise individual discretion, such as clothes, a household allowance, food for one's apartment, and the annual va-cation. In most instances the individual can make substi-tutions that better reflect his own tastes, more money for vacation and less clothes for examples. Housing In the early kibbutz days housing was primitive and inadequate. Many members lived in tents even during the winter months. Toilet and shower facilities were to-tally communal and produced a camaradarie not unlike that of army barracks life or that in athletic teams. Today the norm in most kibbutzim is a 2½ room apart-ment for all married members which usually includes a modern bathroom and also a kitchenette. As individual families are allowed to raise their own children this hous-ing allocation will have to be increased depending on the size of each f;imily, end~mgering the traditional equality of housing facilities. The newest apartments are allocated on a seniority basis which takes into account both the age of the member and the number of years he has belonged to the kibbutz. Expulsion Like any other communal society, on occasions mem-bers whose activities or ideas are not compatible with the group ideal are expelled from membership hy the kib-butz voting at a weekly meeting. Since most dissidents leave freely, expulsions are rare and several kibbutzim report that they are willing to allow expelled members to 'eturn after a probationary period. This tolerance is probably necessary in a communal society where the hus-band and a wife are both members of the kibbutz and when only one of them is expelled from membership. While normally the couple would leave together after expulsion proceedings, it is not unknown for one member to stay on alone since the remaining member's rights are not affected by the expulsion of the spouse. Vohtntary Departures The abandonment of a kibbutz "vocation" almost al-ways involves dissatisfaction on the part of the wife. As women usually work in the institutional housekeeping tasks, they enjoy the least modal satisfaction in their daily work. In many instances, too, the wife has come from outside the kibbutz movement, having married a kibbutz boy she met in the army. Spiro found that nearly every man leaving a kibbutz is prompted by his wife who ulti-mately prewfils in convincing her husband to leave.1'~ '~ Op. cit., Spiro, p. 223. Automobiles There are relatively few automobiles in a kibbutz car pool, since most of the motor vehicles are used for farm work. While most of the equipment consists of trucks and tractors, there are usually several private cars for officials whose work takes them into the city and for those mem-bers working outside the kibbutz. When not being used for official business, these cars are available, theoretically, for common use. Some abuses have been reported in the area of private possessiveness by those assigned private cars, but there seems to be no. widespread dissatisfaction. This is attributable in part to the convenience of public transportation throughout the country as well as the kib-bntz tradition of attending outside social functions as groups, transported by trucks fitted out with temporary seats, When an individual does have the use of a commu-nity car he is charged a mileage fee. Each member is allocated an annual kilometer allowance. He may pool this with other couples for extended trips and usually may transfer other credits from his monthly allowance toward a larger mileage usage of the private car. Mileage is charged only against personal use of the car, not for travel on kibbutz business. Clothing The federation Ha drtzi follows a policy of specifying in detail the clothes members may receive each year. A man gets a coat once every five years; a pair of pants, sweater, or jacket every year; a shirt every year. These rations are for Sabbath or dress clothes. Work clothes and shoes are issued as needed. The kibbutzim of the other federations normally assign a cash allowance for clothing, permitting the members to decide for themselves the kind of clothing they prefer. In the early days of the kibbutz movement each kib-butz had a common stock of clothing. The clothing was distributed without regard to sizes and washed without laundry marks. Each person wore what chance provided. But variations in size presented insuperable problems. The system was changed to grant each member personal possession of his own clothing. Radio and TV At first every kibbutz had a communal radio room. But as radios became cheaper, more and more members re-ceived them as gifts and kept the radios for their own private apartments. Today, a radio is considered a per-sonal item. Now there is in each kibbutz a TV room. As TV has become a part of the Israeli cnlture attendance in the TV + + + Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 793 4" 4" ~. C. Fleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 794 lounge is large. Bnt the limited broadcasting schedule and restriction of available channels has not yet made ¯ selection of the program to be watched a major commu-nity concern. There is, nonetheless, growing pressure for permitting members to have their own TV sets in their private apartments. Illness, Old Age, Death All kibbutzniks are covered tinder the national health service. In case of extraordinary expenses, such as special-ized foreign medical treatment, the kibbutz pays all costs for its members. In one sitnation recently at kibbutz Kefar Blum where open heart surgery bad to be per-formed in the United States on the daughter of one mem-ber and the kibbutz income was below normal, the ment-bets voted to meet the high surgical costs by voting out the annual household improvements and vacations and to substantially rednce the cigarette expenditures. Women are given rednced working hours during preg-nancy, and the required daily hours of work are progres-sively reduced as members age. But no one, except the infirm, is every really retired. Every member, as long as he lives, is expected to remain economically productive to the extent that his health allows. This minimum may be simply the caring for the roses in front of his apartment, but it is expected. Recently many kibbutzim have established actuarial funds to provide cash income for members during their old age. There are two reasons: (1) they believe there is a psychological need for infirm and retired people to feel that they are not a financial drain on the younger mem-bers; (2) there is concern over a possible future age imbal-ance. Since every member is always free to leave, some internal crisis in the kibbutz conld result some day in all the younger and productive members leaving the kibbutz, thus depriving the aged of the "living social security" provided by the younger members. At death members are buried simply in the kibbutz cemetery. Luxuries The tents and the tar-paper shacks that once housed the kibbutzniks have given way to modern concrete apart-ments, some with air-conditioning. The housing and fur-nishings for the average kibbutznik compare favorably with those of comparably skilled workmen in Israel's cit-ies. Depending on tastes and family skills, some kibbutz apartments approach lfigb fashion in their appearance. The women have modern stoves and refrigerators to feed their families at home when they wish. There are, as yet, no private telephones, TV, or automobiles. Work Tasks Ill general, inembers are allowed and encouraged to work in the particular department that they like best. The actual assignment is made by the work manager, but great care goes into making sure each member is happy. ~,'Vork assignments, like everything else in the kib-butz, is subject to the scrutiny of the weekly meeting. Assignment to disliked tasks sometimes has to be made by collective action. The individual assigned to such is expected to subordinate his own wishes to those of the community. In most cases the onerous jobs are assigned for short periods of time and given to a wide segment of the membership. Some tasks, such as kitchen clean-up and waiting table, are so universally disliked they have to be allotted in strict rotation. Candidates [or membership, tile U/pan students, and the temporary volunteers are almost always assigned to those tasks the regular members most dislike. Committees The Executive is a committee consisting of those mem-bers holding key administrative jobs and some "ministers without portfolio." The term of office on the Executive coincides with the term of their administrative job, one or two years at most. Tile Executive consists of six or seven members. These members are drawn from a pool of the acknowledged leaders in the kibbutz who rotate in and Out Of the more important leadership posts. Besides this top executive committee, there are myriad others covering every aspect of kibbutz life. Approxi- ~nately 50% of the members of a kibbutz are serving on some committee at any given time. Over a three year span, practically 100% of the membership participates in some committee work. There are a few who have opted out of this participatory democracy and refuse to serve on any committee. These few have narrowed their kibbutz lives to their work and their immediate family.~ The Apostolate The kibbutz serves two specific economic functions. It is both a commtmal productive society and a communal consumptive society. These two functions are coalesced into one organic community. There is in Israel another type of collective called the Moshave, where there is a communal productive system but private ownership in the consumption area. But for the kibbutznik the Marx-ist axiom "from each according to his ability and to each according to his need" dictates that their communal so- ~" Up. cit., Leon, p. 67. ÷ ÷ Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 795 + + + J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 796 ciety must combine the collective control of both produc-tion and consumption. Kibbutzim have been tried in the past in the cities where the members worked totally in outside industry and the kibbutz was formed primarily as a consumption society. Every attempt along this line has failed. There is in Jerusalem at this time a group who are hoping to organize a commune of professional people as a consump-tive kibbutz. But kibbutzniks do not expect this move-ment to succeed. They view the total integration of the community into both production and consumption as necessary for the survival of community life. The kibbutz in Israel is primarily an agricultural eco-nomic movement. The success of this movement in at-tracting and holding members can be attributed to the historical conditions which led the original founders to abandon the metropolises of Europe. They became en-chanted with nature, an enchantment which anyone who has ever had a hackyard vegetable garden or even a flower pbt in a window will understand. The grower as well as what is grown becomes in some psychological way a part of the basic life cycle of nature. Akin to this is the psychic reward a teacher sometimes feels as he watches his students grow and mature. The farmer, and to some ex-tent the teacher, become united to the invisible power of life itself. In recent years the kibbutz movement has added facto-ries to increase the standard of living, otherwise limited by crop quotas and water restrictions. These factories also provide a more satisfactory employment for those mem-bers technically inclined who would otherwise abandon the farm life of the kibbutz for industrial employment in the city. There are, however, fewer modal satisfactions in this type of work. Marx and a host of other analysts have noted the inherent alienation process at work in the fac-tory system. To some extent the kibbutz factories have disproved Marx's theory that this ~ense of alienation ex-perienced by factory workers can be overcome by com-munal ownership. Like the disliked jobs in the kitchen, most dull assembly line duties must be filled with hired casual labor or low cost volunteers. The External Enemy In traditional Catholic terminology the enemy of Christianity and therefore of Catholic religious orders was the world, the flesh, and the devil. In each era these primordial forces are concretized into existential realities. As such they are a motive for both joining and remaining a member of a religious order. It should be noted that this is a negative motive, and almost always found in conjunction with a positive aspect, namely the apostolate. The kibbutz movement has had equiwdent motivation: anti-semitism, the European bourgeois society, capitalism, the false wdue system of the city, Hitler, Nasser, and the Arab world. These are the kibbutz's world, flesh, and devil. There seems to have been a direct relationship between the presence, or perhaps more accurately an awareness of this presence, and the motivation for mem-bership in the kibbutz. Membership figures in kibbutz history show a positive correlation between increased membership and the danger from some facet of the exter-nal enemy. Since 1967 the kibbutz membership has shown its first marked increase in nearly two decades as the government, in the wake of the Six Day war, has begun to establish new kibbutzim in Syria, along the Jordan river in former Arab territory, and in the Sinai. Conclusions The ideological fervor of the early kibbutz movement that Spiro connected so intrinsically with classical Marx-ism has withered considerably in the Israeli kibbutzim. The kibbutz has become a desirable form of agricnltural life, not gracious but certainly pleasant. This is especially true for the Sabra, the young children of the kibbutz who accept kibbutz life as a natural and wholesome place to live, work, and raise their families. They are not espe-cially ideologically motivated despite great efforts by the kibbutz educational programs to continue the motivating principles of the kibbutz founders. Kibbutz membership still adds lustre and prestige to politicians and military leaders, something like the "log cabin" birth-place of 19th century American presidents. But the increasing "westernization" of Israel is rapidly diminishing the ego satisfaction of kibbutzniks, whose vocation was once considered the national ideal. The increasing standard of living is also having its effect. Except for work and meals in the common dining hall, there is little "common" living on an Israeli kib-butz. The family has replaced the commune as the center of interest of the members. The replacement of com-munal showers and toilets by private ones is a sign of increased privatization. The trend away from communal ownership in the consumptive sector is clear and likely irreversible. To some extend the Marxist Ha Artiz federation has most successfi~lly resisted these individualistic tendencies. But Marxist ideology has been so closely associated with the now discredited Soviet system (discredited not for intrinsic principles but because of Soviet foreign policy in the Middle East), that there is little evident grass-roots Marxist ideological fervor among the Artzi members. Thus the basic Messianic ideology is no longer an opera- 4, 4, 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 797 + + + ]. C. Fleck, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 798 tive principle in the kibbutz movement, although some lip service is still paid to it in the literature of the move-ment. The religious fervor is gone; and, as has been shown in tiffs study, the ascetic principles of the Wandervogel Movement have also slowly eroded. Only the presence of a dangerous external enemy remains as a major factor in maintaining the kibbutz as kibbntz. For the kibbutzniks, there is a growing interest in the Israeli culture outside the barbed wire barriers of the kibbutz boundaries. Tel Aviv, Jernsalem, the beaches at Asbkalon, the symphony, the movie theatres, and jobs in outside industries are no longer an evil "world," an eneiny to be avoided. With both Hitler and Nasser dead, the Arab masses remain a clearly perceived danger, and a sufficient cause justifying the sacrifices intrinsically connected with living a com-munal life. The increasing toleration of personal prop-erty by kibbutz melnbers shows that the original kibbutz asceticism was a necessity of the moment, a means not an end. Taken altogether these factors indicate a shaky fu-tnre for the kibbutz movement in the long rtm. Only the miniscnle religious federation seems to have the tran-scendent valnes that will hold this gronp of kibbutzim together. This segment of the kibbutz movement has a proven long-run ideology, their Jewish Orthodox Faith and perduring external enemies, the secular Israeli state. For Roman Catholic religious gronps these principles of the kibbutz movement can indicate the hazards of certain contemporary trends in Catholic religious com-munities. There seems to be a serious drawback to any community in ending the integral connection between the conamunity apostolate and the common life, between the production and consumption activities. X,Vbatever the legal advantages of separate incorporation of the apos-tolic endeavor, it appears such a change may prove dys-functional to the best interests of the community unless some psychological identification can replace the legal one tying the commonity members to a common aposto-late. Otherwise the religious will become mere employees of their former vocational apostolate. Like kibbutz asceticism, the vows, traditional forms of Cbristifin asceticism, are also increasingly seen as merely ~neans which can and in some instances should be aban-doned as a condition for membership in the group, or for individnal apostolic effectiveness. The trend in substitut-ing community for poverty as the true significance of this evangelical counsel, presages many of the problems the kibbutzim have experienced in their trend toward more and more priw~tization and increasing personal property. At the moment Roman Catholics have no apparent "external enemies" of snfficient threat to bind members and aspirants to religious communities to the requisite personal sacrifices basic to any communal effort. Ecumen-ism has replaced enmity in relating to Protestantism. In-carnational theology no longer sees the world as a "valley of tears." Unity of doctrine is no longer a characteristic of the orders, or even theChurch. Increasing numbers of religious seek employment in secular jobs or outside the order's organized apostolates. The religious life no longer commands the prestige it once bad among the faithful. Tbe kibbutz movement has also shown several possibil-ities that have been traditionally lacking in Catholic reli-gious orders. A communal society of married conples is clearly possible and in some cqntemporary aspects possi-bly superior (in personal fulfilhnent and interpersonal love) to the celibate life. While the structures of existing religious communities do not seem likely to encompass this facet of communal life, it would not be surprising to see new communities of married religious come into exist-ence in the not too distant future. Another wdue of the kibbutz movement is the seeming success of communal groups based on a total democratic process. There are already some indications that the traditionally monarchi-cal religious orders are already moving swiftly to a capi-tular form of government. In most cases the founders of the majority of the Israeli kibbutzim are still alive and to some extent still reflecting the charism that marked the foundation of their commu-nity. Yet it appears that the "routinization of their cha-risma" is not likely to be overly successful. The ideological and "religious" sonrce of the kibbutz movement has al-ready given way to a rapid "secularization" of values by the second generation whose devotion to the kibbutz is either pragmatic or cultural. The positive inspiration of Zionism that has so effec-tively supported the establishment of a Jewish State will certainly diminish in time. Antisemitism is not a motive in a Jewish state, and thus not operative on the Sabra. If and when the Arab situation is normalized, the Kibbutz "external enemy" will also have disappeared. The pris-tine Marxist ideology has been snbject to constant revi-sion, and a wide range of personal and public views are now tolerated among kibbutzniks. The long range prognosis for the kibbutz movement is one of no sizeable growth and more than likely a rapid diminishing of the movement once peace comes to Israel. The small number o[ religious kibbutzim should remain active, as well as a limited number run by convinced Marxists. But the kibbutz movement as a whole will likely prove to have been a temporarily significant social structure in Israeli history due to the particular condi-tions that Jews faced in the 19th and 20th centuries. ÷ ÷ Kibbutzim VOLUME ~0, 1971 799 If this analogy between the kibbutz movement and Catholic religious community life is correct, and if the same present trends continne in both institutions, there is a reasonable predictability that many if not most of the present religion,s commonities may be viewed from some future historical perspective as having served the Church's vital needs effectively up to the end of the 20th century. "!" 4" 4- J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOI, JS 8O0 SISTER CHARLOTTE HANNON, S.N.D. DE N. The Graying of America The far left, the far right, the in-betweeners, the libs and the cons, the silent majority and the articttlate mi-nority have reached a consensus on one point at least-- they all agree that "Darling, you are grown older." Laughingly we sing the line at birthday parties and re-unions, but behind the laughter there is the realization that okt age and retirement are major concerns that warrant major consideration. If Toeffler in Future Shock has clone nothing else, he has alerted ns to the need for planning ahead. Last August and November the Finance Retirement Committee of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur of the Maryland Province sent out 415 questionnaires to religious communities across the country. The returns are interesting and informative as the following table indi-cates: Questionnaires sent out . 415 Questionnaires returned . 271 Retirement Plans in operation . 100 No Retirement Plan in operation . 171 Most of the communities in the last category are anxious to know what others are doing about retirement planning, and they indicate a need to begin making plans as soon as possible. Retirement Age and Status The majority of congregations state that they have no "fixed" age for retirement. They agree that the person himself, his state of health, his vitality, mental and physi-cal stamina--all these factors mnst be considered on an individual basis. Although 65 years is mentioned as a possible age/'or part-time retirement, 70 is the time when most religious begin to think seriously abont retiring. Studies show that the life-span of religious exceeds that of the ordinary layman by five to nine years. If there is difference of opinion about a specific age, there is deft-nitely consensns on retirement status. All agree with the statement from the "Older Americans Act," Article 10: 4- 4- Sister Charlotte is Director of Re-search and Funding for the Sisters of Notre Dame de Na-mur; Ilchester, Maryland 21083. VOLUME ~0, 1971 801 + ÷ ÷ St. Charlotte REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 802 "Older Americans or Senior Citizens should be permitted the free exercise of individual initiative in planning and managing one's own life for independence and freedom." Such thinking, of course, originates in the basic Christian
Issue 32.3 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right ~) 1973 by Review /or Reqgious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor May 1973 Volume 32 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. The Anointing of the Sick Paul VI The following is an English translation of an apostolic constitution dated November 30 1972 but not made publicly available until January 18 1973. The constitution represents updated provisions for the administration of the sacrament of the anointing of the sick. Subtitles in the following have been added by the editor. The Catholic Church professes and teaches that the sacred anointing of the sick is one of the seven sacraments of the New Testament, that it was in-stituted by Christ, and that it is "alluded to in Mark (Mk 6: 13) and recom-mended and promulgated to the faithful by James the Apostle and brother of the Lord. "If any of you is ill," says James, "he should send for the elders of the Church, and they should anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord and pray over him. The prayer of faith will save the sick man and the Lord will raise him up again; and if he has committed any sins, he will be for-given (Js 5:14-5).1 Ancient Testimonies From ancient times testimonies of the anointing of the sick are found in the Church's tradition, particularly her liturgical one, both in the East and in the West. Especially worthy of note in this regard are two testimonies: The letter which Innocent I, our predecessor, addressed to Decentius, Bishop of GubbioZ; and the venerable prayer used for blessing the oil of the sick: "Send forth, O Lord, your.Holy Spirit the Paraclete," which was inserted 1Council of Trent, Session XIV, De extrema unctione, Chapter 1 (see also ibid., Canon 1): CT, VII, 1, 355-6; DS, 1695, 1716. ZThe letter Si instituta ecclesiastica, Chapter 8: PL 20, 559-61; DS 216. 465 466 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 into the Eucharistic prayer:~ and is still preserved in the Roman Pontifical? In the course of the centuries in the liturgical tradition the parts of the body of the sick person to be anointed with holy oil were more explicitly defined in different ways, and there were added various formulas to accom-pany the anointings with prayers which are contained in the liturgical books of the various Churches. During ~the Middle Ages there prevailed in the Roman Church the custom of anointing the sick on the five senses using the formula: "Per istam sanctam unctionem et suam piissimam misericordiam indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid deliquisti" ["Through this holy anointing and His most loving mercy, may the Lord pardon whatever wrong you have committed"], followed by an adaptive addition for each sense.'~ Conciliar Teaching In addition, the doctrine concerning sacred anointing is expounded in the documents of the ecumenical councils, namely the Council of Florence and in particular the Council of Trent and the Second Vatican Council. After the Council of Florence had described the essential elements of the anointing of the sick,'~ the Council of Trent declared its divine institution and explained what is given in the Epistle of St. James concerning the sacred anointing, especially with regard to the reality and effects of the sacra-ment: "This reality is in fact the grace of the Holy Spirit whose anointing takes away sins, if any still remain to be taken away, and the remnants of sin; it also relieves and strengthens the soul of the sick person, arousing in him a great confidence in the divine mercy, whereby being thus sustained he more easily bears the trials and labors of his sickness, more easily resists the temptations of the devil 'lying in wait' (Gn 3: 15), .and sometimes re-gains bodily health, if this is expedient for the health of the soul.''~ The same Council also declared that in these words of the apostle it is stated with suffi-cient clarity that "this anointing is to be administered to the sick, especially :~Liber sacramentorum Romanae Ecclesiae ordinis amti circuli ed. L. C. Mohlberg, ~'Rerum ecclesiasticarum documenta, Fontes," IV, Rome, 1960, p. 61; Le Sacra-mentaire Gregorien ed. J. Deshusses, "Spicilegium Friburgense," v. 16, Fribourg, 1971, p. 172; and see La Tradition Apostolique de saint Hippolyte ed. B. Botte, "Liturgie-wissenschaftliche Quellen und Forschungen," v. 39, Miinster in W., 1963, pp. 18-9; Le Grand Euchologe du MonastOre Blanc ed. E. Lanne, Patrologia orientalis, v. XXVII1/2, Paris, 1958, pp. 392-5. 4See Pontificale Romanum: Ordo benedicendi oelum catechumenorum et infirmorum et conficiendi chrisma. Vatican City, 1971, pp. 11-2. '~See M. Andrieu, Le Pontifical Romain au Moyen-Age, v. 1, Le Pontifical Romain du Xlle siOcle, "Studi e testi," v. 86, Vatican City, 1938, pp. 267-8; v. 2, Le Pontifical de la Curie romaine au XIIle sikcle, "Studi e testi," v. 87, Vatican City, 1940, pp. 491-2. C'Decretum pro Armenis. G. Hofmann, Council of Florence, I/I1, p. 130; DS 1324f. ~Council of Trent, Sessio XIV, De extrema unctione, Chapter 2: CT, VII,. I, 356; DS 1696. The Anointing ol the Sick / 467 those who are in such a condition as to appear to have reached the end of their life, whence it is also called the sacrament of the dying.''s Finally, it declared that the priest is the proper minister of the sacrament.9 The Second Vatican Council adds the following: " 'Extreme Unction,' which may also and more fittingly be called 'anointing of the sick,' is not a sacrament for those only who are at the point of death. Hence, as soon as any one of the faithful begins to be in danger of death from sickness or old age, the appropriate time for him to receive this sacrament has certainly already arrived.''1° The fact that the use of this sacrament concerns the whole Church is shown by these words: "By the sacred anointing of the sick and the prayer of her priests, the whole Church commends those who are ill to the suffering and glorified Lord, asking that he may ligthten their suffering and save them (cf. James 5:14-6). She exhorts them, moreover, to con-tribute to the welfare of the whole People of God by associating themselves freely with the passion and death of Christ (cf. Rom 8:17; Col 1:24; 2 Tim 2:11-2; 1 Peter 4:13).''11 Revision ot the Rite All these elements had to be taken into consideration in revising the rite of sacred anointing, in order to better adapt to present-day conditions those elements which were subject to change?'-' We have thought fit to modify the sacramental formula in such a way that, in view of the words of St. James, the effects of the sacrament might be better expressed. Further, since olive oil, which hitherto had been prescribed for the valid administration of the sacrament, is unobtainable or difficult to obtain in some parts of the world, we decree, at the request of "numerous bishops, that in the future, according to the circumstances, oil of another sort can also be used provided it is obtained from plants, thus being closer to the oil de-rived from the olive. As regards the number of anointings and the parts of the body to be anointed, it has seemed to us opportune to proceed to a simplification of the rites. Therefore, since this revision in certain points touches upon the sacra-mental rite itself, by our apostolic authorit3~ we decree that for the future the following is to be observed in the Latin Rite. SIbid., Chapter 3: CT, ibid; DS 1698. 'albid., Chapter 3, Canon 4: CT, ibid.; DS 1719. 1°Vatican Council II, Constitutio Sacrosanctum Concilium, 73: AAS, LVI (1964), pp. 118-9. 11Ibid., Constitutio Lumen gentium, ll: AAS, LVII i1965), p. 15. ~See Vatican Council II, Consiitutio Sacrosanctunt Conciliutn, 1: AAS, LVI (1964), p. 97. Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 The Future Rite The sacrament of the anointing of the sick is administered to those who are dangerously ill by anointing them on the forehead and hands with olive oil, or, if opportune, with another vegetable oil properly blessed, and by saying once only the following words: "Per istam sanctam unctionem et suam piissimam misericordiam adiuvet te dominus gratia Spiritus Sancti, ut a peccatis liberatum te salvet atque propitius allevet" ["Through this holy anointing and His most loving mercy, may the Lord assist you by the grace of the Holy Spirit so that when you have been freed from your sins He may save you and in His goodness bring you relief"]. In case of necessity however it is sufficient that a single anointing be given on the forehead or, because of the particular condition of the sick per-son, on another more suitable part of the body, the whole formula being pro-nounced. This sacrament can be repeated if the sick person, having once received the anointing, recovers and then again falls sick, or if, in the course of the same illness, the danger becomes more acute. Promulgation and Conclusion Having laid down and declared these elements concerning the essential rite of the sacrament of the anointing of the sick, we, by our apostolic au-thority, also appi'ove the Order of the anointing of the sick and of their pas-toral care, as it has been revised by the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship. At the s, ame time, we revoke, where necessary, the prescriptions of the Code of Canon Law or other laws hitherto in forqe, or we abrogate them; other prescriptions and laws, which are neither abrogated nor changed by the above mentioned Order, remain valid and in force. The Latin edition of the Order containing the new rite will come into force as soon as it is pub-lished. The vernacular editions, prepared by the episcopal conferences and confirmed by the Apostolic See, will come into force on the day which will be laid down by the individual conferences. The old Order can be used until 31 December 1973. From 1 January 1974, however, the new Order only is to be used by all those whom it concerns. We desire that these decrees and prescriptions of ours shall, now and in the future, be fully effective in the Latin Rite, notwithstanding, as far as is necessary, the apostolic constitutions and directives issued by our predeces-sors and other prescriptions, even if worthy of special mention. Given at Saint Peter's in Rome, on the thirtieth day of November, in the year 1972, the tenth of our Pontificate. PAUL VI Candlemas Address to Sisters Paul VI I~[irihg the ceremony of the presentation of candles celebrated on February 2 1973, tHh Holy Father gave a talk on religious women presented here in the English trans-l~.[ ion published in Osservatore romano, English language edition, February 15 1973, pp. 3, I0. Oc~ursus, in Latin, Ypapant~, in Greek, was the name given to this festivity ifi ~he early Oriental Church. It meant the meeting, that is, the fact of meet-iO~ the infant Jesus, taken to the Temple of Jerusalem forty days after His bii:th, according to the law of Moses, to be offered to God, as belonging to Hiin. We all know that it was during this legal and religious rite that there tdok place the meeting with old Simeon, who, inspired by the Holy Spirit, r6~bgnized in Jesus the Messiah and proclaimed Him "a light for revelation t6 the Gentiles." Immediately afterwards there also took place the meeting with the venerable prophetess Anna, eighty four years old, who "came to give thanks to God, and spoke of the child to all who were looking for the r6demption of Israel" (Lk 2:38). A Me~;sianic meeting, therefore, which uil~s on prophetic significance and historical voice, and which publicly in-augurates the era of Christ, in-the very place sacred to worship of the one triJe God, and to the chosen People's awareness of its mysterious destiny. A Matter of Loyalties ,Well, let us begin our pious ceremony by giving the meeting, which gathers us here, the religious and spiritual significance which reflects, from s6ihe points of view, the one that the liturgy has us commemorate today. Ybh come here to carry out.an act of recognition of the mission entrusted t6 bur humble person, namely to implement and continue in time the mis- 469 470 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 sion of Jesus Christ, the light and salvation of the world. It is a meeting that expresses mainly two sentiments of yours, one of faith, faith in Christ, in His Gospel and His Church; the other of open adherence in filial respect to the Pope, your Bishop, to the apostle Peter, to whom the Lord entrusted the keys, that is, the authority of the kingdom of heaven, and at the same time the pastoral function over the whole Church. Aware of our human limits, we would be tempted to avoid this meeting, but the investiture of the apostolic office, transmitted to us in legitimate succession, forbids us to do so; in fact it lays upon us the important and sweet obligation to welcome it wholeheartedly. Yes, blessed by this meeting which offers us the welcome opportunity to have around us such a full, varied, and devoted assembly as the one that now surrounds us, which we ourself wished to see carefully arranged, in this monumental and holy basil-ica, not in our honor, but in yours, beloved and venerated sons. The meet-ing means unity, it means harmony, it means awareness of the hierarchial and organic society, which is at the same time religious and spiritual, that we together make up, love, and serve. The meeting means the Church, and here the Roman Church, the apostolic Church. Candle Rich in Symbolism This common awareness is made real and, as it were, experienced owing to the double fact of the presence of the representatives of so many ecclesial bodies, living in the same City, but not easily brought together in the same place and in the same ceremon3~; and the fact that each of these representa-tives comes bearing the offering of a candle, a symbo, l rich in multiple mean-ings, first and foremost the heartfelt bond whereby every institution repre-sented wishes to be connected in faith and charity with us, now brings us deep spiritual joy. We are honoring Christ together; together for Him and with Him we are honoring the Church. What else could make us so happy and bring us such consolation? We often think now that the great event, for which our century will be remembered, the Ecumenical Council recently concluded, was intended to serve, in the intentions of divine Providence, to revive, deepen, and harmo-nize that sense of the Church, which the conciliar doctrines have nourished with splendid themes, and which the evolution of the times requires to be more limpid and strong than ever. We are therefore full of joy and confi-dence when we have some almost tangible experience, however rapid and particular, of this "sense of the Church." How happy and moved we are to enjoy now with you, the ecclesial communion of our diocese! How easy it is for us to suppose that the Apostles, its founders, that its martyrs and its saints, with the Blessed Virgin, salus Populi Romani, are assisting us at this significant moment of spiritual meeting; nay more, to think of the mystery of the secret presence among us of Christ Himself, who promised to be in the midst of those gathered together in His name (Mt 18:20). Candlemas Address to Sisters / 471 Esteem |or Sisters We cannot fail to draw attention to a circumstance that characterizes this ceremony, and confers on it a splendid note of piety and solemnity. Do you see who has the larger and the better part in the Basilica today? It is the religi6us women. It is our sisters, it is the virgins and widows, consecrated to the Lord, living in Rome and belonging to our community. Greetings to you, beloved Daughters in Christ! You blessed religious, who have accepted our invitation to this meeting, whose purpose, as we said, is to gather us round the Messianic mystery of the presentation of the infant Jesus in the Temple and thus express the network of spiritual and canonical bonds which gives form and substance to religious and social unity in the Church of Rome. Why did we wish the "Roman" sisters (the fact that. they live or even are temporarily staying in our Diocese, qualifies them as such), to have a distinguished place in this assembly today? Oh! For many reasons! We will mention some of them. It is our wish that the diocesan community should have an opportunity for once to show its esteem and affection for these chosen daughters, humble and strong. They are not out on the fringe, no, they are the flowers of its garden. It is our wish that the style of their "evangelica testificatio," of their evangelical testimony, should be honored and vindi6ated in view of the devaluation of laicism which would like to secularize even the most ardent souls, those following most faithfully in Christ's footsteps. It is our wish that a reawakened gen-erous sensitivity of the community of the faithful should not forget the needs of the poorer sisters, often without the means of subsistence. It is our wish that the ascetic, contemplative tradition of religious life, or the active one, should be recognized by everyone, by the ecclesial community particular~ly, as valid and relevant updated as it must be according to the spirit of the recent Council and according to the norms suggested by the documents of this apostolic See, in conformity with ihe renewing effort that the individual religious families have succeeded in imparting to their own way of life, some-times wearisome and purely formal, by means of the wise revisions of their statutes, studied and carried out in their recent general chapters. It is our wish that the specific vocations which qualify religious institutes such as pray.er and penitence, isolation and silence for the purpose of more intense inner absorption in the pursuit of convers'ation wit'h God, or tireless dedica-tion in arduous and providential educational work, or in expert assistance to the sick or the various social needs, or with regard to the Catholic missions, and according to the inventive genius of their piety and their charity--it is our wish that these vocations should be given an honorable and organic place in the ecclesial structure, even, perhaps, by means of some sacred initiation. It is our wish, furthermore, to promote and perfect .the assignment of sisters, when they so desire and are qualified to do so, to cooperation in the pastoral ministry, particularly where there is a shortage of the clergy, or in parishes engaged in religious and moral assistance in popular districts and 472 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 poor suburbs, or in the desolate countryside. We want them to be together with the praying, teaching, operating, ~uf-fering, evangelizing Church, these generous and courageous daughters of ours, these pious and hard-working sisters of ours, these simple, dignified women, always exemplary, and, according to the title attributed to sincere members of the early Christian communities, holy! Following Mary's Way Oh yes! Beloved daughters of holy Church, let the spirit of communion by which she lives enter your houses, beyond the gates of your cloisters, into your souls, instilling the breath of the renewal desired by the Ecumenical Council, and giving you too, nay rather you especially, a vision of the great divine plans at work among mankind and marking its destiny with regard to its supernatural and eschatological salvation, just as they present to us our duties and our resources for the help necessary for the elevation of ~he world, its concord and peace. And here you have understood, blessed daughters, no less than eccles.ias-tics and laymen, and following the steps of the Blessed Virgin along the evangelic.al path interpreted by the liturgical rite we are celebrating, you come to the altar bearing, you, too, your symbolic gift, your candle. Y~ou make us think of the parable of the virgins of the Gospel of St. Matthew. You remind us of the many meanings that ritual and spiritual language at-tributes to the pure and primitive source of light, the candle. You give us the idea of recommending that you should make the candle the symbol of your persons" because of its uprightness and its sweetness, the image of innocen.c.e and purity; because of its function of burning and illuminating, for which the candle is destined, realizing in itself the definition of your life enti.rely destined for the one love, burning and complete, of the Father, for Christ, in the Holy Spirit, a fire-love. It is a love which, with prayer, example, action, providentially illuminates the room and the path of the Church and of the surrounding world. Finally, the candle is destined to consume itself in sile.nce, like your life in the now irrevocable drama of your consecrated heart: t~.he sacrifice, like Christ on the Cross, in a sorrowful, happy love, which will n.ot be extinguished on the last day, but surviving will shine forth forever in the eternal meeting with the divine Bridegroom. For you, for all those present, our Apostolic blessing, with affection_ate gratitude. The Supreme Court on Abortion' A Dissenting Opinion Patrick T. Conley and Robert J. McKenna Patrick T. Conley is associate professor in the Department of History at Providence College; Providence, Rhode Island 02918. His specialty is Constitutional History with degrees in both history and law. Robert J. McKenna is associate professor of Politics at Salve Regina College; Ochre Point Avenue; Newport, Rhode Island 02840. He is also a State Senator from Newport and is a specialist in Church-State relations. In the decade of the 1850s one of the most vexing constitutional questions concerned the status of slavery in the federal territories. For reasons which historians have not yet fully fathomed, this issue became a vent for the economic, emotional, psychological, and moral disputes generated by the institution of slavery itself. During this acrimonious debate three basic posi-tions emerged: ( 1 ) the pro-slave argument which held that Congress had a positive duty to protect a slave owner's property rights in the federal terri-tories; (2) a diametrically opposed view, advanced by anti-slavery Northern-ers, stating that Congress must ban slavery from the territories; and (3) the middle ground of "popular sovereignty" which left the decision on slavery to the residents of the areas in question. Then, in 1857, a Southern-dominated Supreme Court attempted toresolve this morally-charged dispute in what it considered to be a rational and impartial manner. The result was the Dred Scott Decision in which the Court novelly employed the procedural Due Process Clause of the Fifth Amendment to vindicate the Southern position. But it did so in disregard of historical precedents which made that view un-tenable. To compound its error, the Court contended that Negroes could not attain citizenship because such status contravened the intent of the founding fathers. The Dred Scott Decision did not resolve the great moral dispute over slavery and the status of the Negro in American society. It was so patently 473 474 / Review ]or Religious, Volutne 32, 1973/3 unsound that it was overridden--both by subsequent events and by the less violent process of constitutional amendment. The Decision of January 22, 1973 On January 22, 1973, the United States Supreme Court, in magisterial fashion, undertook to resolve another moral controversy in the case of Roe v. Wade, and a companion decision, Doe v. Bolton. These decisions con-cerned abortion, and here a right more fundamental than citizenship was at stake--in issue was the right to life. The Dred Scott analogy to Roe v. Wade is not an exercise in hyperbole; not only was a more basic right in-volved, but a much larger class was affected. In 1857, approximately 4,100,000 blacks and their descendants were judicially attainted; in 1973 alone about 5 million living human fetuses will be shorn of their natural right to life for at least the first six months of their existence. Unlike the Biblical decree of Herod, however, Roe v. Wade does not mandate a slaughter of the innocents. The Court, in fact, explicitly denied the contention of appellant Jane Roe (a fictional name) that a woman's right to an abortion is absolute and that she is entitled to terminate her preg-nancy at whatever time, in whatever way, and for whatever reason she alone chooses. "With this we do not agree," said Justice Blackmun for the major-ity. His statement was echoed by the Chief Justice: "Plainly, the Court today rejects any claim that the Constitution requires abortion on demand," affrmed Mr. Burge'r. Even the libertarian Justice Douglas admitted that "voluntary abortion at any time and place regardless of medical standards would impinge on a rightful concern of society. The woman's health is part of that concern; as is the life of the fetus after quickening." But though the decision was not a total victory for the abortion advo-cates, it was a substantial victory nonetheless. In essence, the Court con-cluded that a state criminal abortion statute, like that of Texas, which "ex-cepts from criminality only a life saving procedure on behalf of the mother, without regard to a pregnancy stage and without recognition of the other in-terests involved, is violative of the Due Process Clau~e of the Fourteenth Amendment." Mother's Alleged Right of Privacy The so-called right which the Texas abortion statute allegedly infringed upon was the expectant mother's right of privacy. In deference to maternal privacy the Court then proceeded to formulate the following abortion schedule: (a) "For the stage prior to approximately the end of the first trimester [the first three months], the abortion decision and its effectuation must be left to the medical judgment of the pregnant woman's attending physician; (b) for the stage subsequent to approximately the end of the first trimester [the second three months], the State, in promoting its interest in the health of the mother, may, if it chooses, regulate the abortion proce- Abortion / 475 dure in ways that are reasonably related to maternal health; (c) for the stage subsequent to viability [the final three months] the State, in promoting its interests in the potentiality of human life, may, if it chooses, regulate, and even proscribe, abortion except where it is necessary, in appropriate medical judgment, for the preservation of the life or health of the mother." Such was the fiat of the Court--a formidable pronouncement indeed. Justice Blackmun's rationale and argumentation, however, were not sufficient to support the Court's foray into the legislative domain because the decision contained several dubious moral, logical, biomedical, and legal contentions. The Question of Life First, the Court explicitly admitted that it "need not resolve the difficult question of when life begins . the judiciary, at this point in the develop-ment of man's knowledge, is not in a position to speculate as to the answer." Later it took notice of the fact that the Catholic Church, "many non-Catho-lics," and "many physicians" believed that life began at conception. In view of these considerations and the Court's candid admission of its own igno-rance, it seems incredible that the Court could proceed with confidence to schematize abortion according to the trimester system. It chided Texas for arbitrarily selecting conception as a basis for that state's abortion law, and then, in an equally arbitrary manner chose viability as the basis of its own formula. In effect, the Court said: "We do not know if human life exists prior to viability, but even if it does we choose not to protect it, and we bar the states from protecting it also." It has often been the practice of the Court when it could not resolve or define a key issue before it (like the nature of a "republican form of govern-ment") to declare the matter a political question and therefore nonjusti-ciable. If ever the doctrine of political question should have been invoked, it was when the Court asserted that the question of life's commencement was beyond its ability to resolve. To proceed in the face of that admission was reckless folly. It was, as stated by Justice White in his dissent, "an exercise in raw judicial power"; an "improvident and extravagant exercise of the power of judicial review." White could find "no constitutional warrant" for the Court's action, nor could he accept "the Court's exercise of its clear power of choice by interposir~g a constitutional barrier to state efforts to protect human life and by investing mothers and doctors with the constitu-tionally protected right to exterminate it." The Court did rush in, however, armed with its nescience regarding the origins of human life, and the results were disastrous. Rights of a Person and the Fetus Having thus disposed of the question of life, the justices examined four main theories regarding the point in time when the rights of a person at-tach to a human fetus, namely (I) conception, (2) quickening or first 476 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 movement, (3) viability, or (4) birth. Justice Blackmun concluded that "the word 'person,' as used in the Fourteenth Amendment, does not include the unborn." Here the Court buttressed its contention with formidable but not insurmountable evidence. With equal effort it could have reached the opposite conclusion, especially in view of the fact that no evidence was adduced to show that the drafters intended to exclude the unborn when they utilized the word "person" in the various sections of the Constitution where it appears. In the absence of a clear constitutional intent, arising ho doubt from t, he fact that the particular problem raised in Roe v. W~ide never oc-curred to previous constitutional draftsmen, the Court should have exercised restraint. Compelling State Interest The Court has applied the "compelling state interest" standard to those legislative acts which have set up classifications or categories, the members of which have been deprived of equal protection of the law. In several recent opinions a majority of the Court asserted that the strictness of the standard for decision in cases involving classifications made by legislative bodies ¯ varies according to the nature of the right placed in jeopardy; the more fundamental the right involved, the greater was the judicial requirement to "carefully and meticulously scrutinize" thc classification in the light of the following principles: (a) As ihe right in jeopardy becomes more fundamental, the more perfect must be the relationship between the classification excluding a human group from the en-joyment of the right and the purpose for which the classification is made. (b) As the right involved becomes more ftmdamental, the more "compelling" the state or governmental interest must be in making a classification exc!iading certain human groups from the enjoyment of the right. In Roe v. Wade the Court has not practiced what it preached. In effect, it has established a judicial classification consisting of those unborn' humans who have not reached the stage of viability and has deprived thes6 individ-uals of their right to life by making them fair game for the abbrti0nist. Several learned anti-abortionists who presented an amicus curiae brief to the Court for its consideration made this valid observation. They argued that "because of the fundamental nature of life, the most compellin~ of all interests would have to be shown on the part of the Court in order to carve out such a classification, which would exclude the lives of unborn huinans from the protection of the law." The Court's Rationale The Court did, indeed, advance a rationale to justify its conclusions by claiming that "the right of personal privacy" is "broad enough to encompass a woman's decision whether or not to terminate her pregnancy," though ad-mitting that the right was "not unqualified and must be considered against Abortion / 477 important state interests in regulation." When the Court tried to explain why this alleged right of privacy was fundamental enough to override a state's in-terest in the protection of fetal life, the shallowness of its value system was glaringly revealed. Justice Blackmun justified abortion on the grounds of privacy because "maternity, or additional offspring, may force upon the woman a distressful life and future," cause psychological harm, bring "distress for all con-cerned," or place a social "stigma" on the unwed mother. These were the "weighty reasons" for excluding the unborn from the enjoyment of the right to life. Justice Douglas, in a concurring opinion arising out of Roe v. Wade and its companion case involving a Georgia abortion law (Doe v. Bolton), went to more ridiculous extremes. Childbirth, said Douglas, "may deprive a woman of her preferred life style and force upon her a radically different and undesired future." She would be required "to endure the discomforts of pregnancy; to incur the pain, higher mortality rate, and aftereffects of child-birth; to abandon educational plans; to sustain loss of income; to forego the satisfactions of careers; to tax further mental and physical health . . . and, in some cases, to bear the lifelong stigma of unwed motherhood." One could scarcely imagine a more amoral and hedonistic rationale. For the highest. court in a land which professes spiritual values and claims foundation "un-der God" to use such criteria to justify the extermination of human life is a tragic occurrence in every sense of the word. Here is humanism incarnate-- man has become God. Selfishness and Self-love The Court and the absolute abortionists, who occupy a more extreme position than the high tribunal itself, are essentially concerned about the "quality of life." Adolf Hitler had the same concern. It is both ironic and appalling that many individuals and groups who vociferously deplored Hit-ler's misguided attempts to improve the quality of life in Nazi Germany are in the vanguard of the current genocidal attack upon the unborn. The justifications for abortion expressed by Justices Blackmun and Doug-las are the epitome of human selfishness and self-iove. The countervailing evils of easy abortion were thrust aside by the Court. Among these baneful effects, according to Dr. Paul Marx, are "the denigration of the traditional sexual morality distilled from centuries of wisdom, the abandonment of self-control as an indispensable human virtue, the substitution of subjective whim for the priceless heritage of human knowledge, the enthronement of ultili-tarianism over principled morality, the devaluation of life itself, the ruina-tion of the moral basis of natural human rights, and the obvious opening to euthanasia." A society that countenances the brutality of aborticn is one in which psychological ills, irreverence for life, and sexual promiscuity are likely to proliferate. In sum, therefore, we have paid an exhorbitant price to sustain a woman's right to per, sonal privacy. 478 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 Right to Privacy a Fiction That alleged right, however, is more a judicial fiction than a verifiable fact. Even Justice Douglas frankly confesses that "there is no mention of privacy in our Bill of Rights," nor is the type of privacy claimed in Roe v. Wade specifically mentioned in any other section of the Federal Constitution. The Court invented this right in Griswold v. Connecticut (1965) when it held that a state law forbidding the use of contraceptives was unconstitu-tional in as far as the law applied to married persons. The Court advanced the so-called "penumbra" doctrine which held that various guarantees in the Bill of Rights impliedly create zones of privacy. In Roe v. Wade a woman's personal decision to abort her child was placed inside that judicially pro-tected private zone. In their attempt to vindicate this alleged right appellants used a scatter-gun approach by claiming that the Texas statute abridged rights of personal privacy protected by the First, Fourth, Fifth, Ninth, and Fourteenth Amend-ments. One of these random shots found its mark when the high court held that the right claimed by the appellants was "founded in the Fourteenth Amendment's concept of personal liberty." In recent years, the Court has developed a complex formula to protect those rights which it uncovers in the mysterious recesses of the Constitution from invasion by the states. The test traditionally applied to state social and economic legislation is whether or not the law (for example, the Texas abor-tion statute) has "a rational relation to a valid state objective." Had this test been employed in Roe v. Wade the state statute may have been upheld. How-ever, the Court devised a more stringent standard in Shapiro v. Thompson (1969) which held that as the right involved becomes more fundamental, the more "compelling" the state interest must be in passing a law which abridges that right. In Shapiro and subsequent rulings the "compelling state interest" standard was used only in situations involving the equal protection provision of the Fourteenth Amendment. Justice Harlan attacked this new criterion when he asserted in a Shapiro dissent that "when a statute affects only matters not mentioned in the Federal Constitution and is not arbitrary or irrational" the Court is not entitled "to pick out particular human activities, characterize them as 'fundamental,' and give them added protection under an unusually stringent equal protection test." Such action, concluded Harlan, "would go far toward making this Court a 'super-legislature.' " Yet the Court went even beyond this in Roe v. Wade--it not only held a woman's private right to abort her unborn child to be "fundamental"; it also expanded the stringent "compelling state interest" test in a novel way to embrace the Due Process Clause (shades of Dred Scott!). Dissenting Opinions The majority's decision regarding the fundamental nature of the particu-lar right of privacy asserted in this case was vigorously and persuasively at- Abortion / 479 tacked by Justice Rehnquist in a dissenting opinion: "The fact that a ma-jority of the States, reflecting., the majority sentiment in those states, have had restrictions on abortions for at least a century seems . . . as strong an indication as there is that the asserted right to an abortion is not., funda-mental. Even today, when society's views on abortion are changing, the very existence of the debate is evidence that the 'right' to an abortion is not so universally accepted as the appellants would have us believe," concluded Rehnquist. In support of this latter statement he could have cited with telling effect the results of the 1972 abortion referenda in Michigan and North Da-kota. In the former state the pro-life advocates polled 61% of the vote, while in North Dakota their total was an overwhelming 79%. The right of privacy asserted by the Court is not only absent from the express provisions of the original Constitution, the Bill of Rights, and later Amendments, it is not generally recognized by law, by custom, or by major-ity opinion. How could such an alleged right, therefore, be "so rooted in the traditional conscience of our people to be ranked as fundamental." The Court does not satisfactorily explain its startling judgment. It "simply fashions," says dissenting Justice White, "a new constitutional right for preg-nant mothers and, with scarcely any reason or authority for its action, in-vests that right with sufficient substance to override most state abortion statutes." Unalienable Right to Life The Court with equal effort could have "discovered" the unborn's right to life, invested it with "fundamental" status, and clothed it with judicial protection. This right is not explicit in any part of the Constitution, but, un-like the right to abort, it is recognized by law, by custom, and by majority opinion. It can also be inferred from the phraseology of no less a document than our Declaration of Independence: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Li[e, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness." Traditionally the term "creation" is applied to conception rather than to the other definable stages of fetal life. This line of argumentation is at least as formidable as the privacy doc-trine which the Court concocted, but unfortunately the Court used its legal legerdemain to uphold the right of privacy at the expense of the unborn's right to life--a strange choice indeed, especially in view of the solicitude shown by the Court for criminals under a death sentence in Furman v. Georgia (1972). A Flaw in Argumentation Such was the decision of tile Court in Roe v. Wade and its companion Doe v. Bolton. Almost as an afterthought, however, the Justices alluded to a serious flaw in the arguments of those who sought to uphold state abortion 480 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 restrictions. The state appellees in Wade and Bolton asserted that the un-born's right to life was constitutionally protected by the due process clauses of the Fifth and Fourteenth Amendments. Yet the state statutes which they defended, especially Georgia's more "modern" law, allowed abortion in special circumstances: (1) if the life or health of the mother were endan-gered (this was the extent of the Texas statute); (2) if the fetus would very likely be born with a grave, permanent, and irremedial mental or physical defect; or (3) if the pregnancy resulted from forcible or statutory rape. As Justice Douglas was quick to observe, the Georgia statute permits fetal de-struction in several instances without regard for due process or the develop-mental stage of the fetus. Justice Blackmun in a footnote in Roe v. Wade also spotted the dilemma. Despite a broad proscription on abortion, an exception exists in every state, at least to save the life of the mother. "But if the fetus is a person who is not to be deprived of life without due process of law, and if the mother's condition is the sole determinant, does not the Texas exception appear to be out of line with the Amendment's command," queried Blackmun, "and why is the woman not a principal or an accomplice" to the killing? This in-consistency can only be effectively resolved by recourse to the position that any direct taking of the life of the fetus is a moral and legal crime for all involved. Our dissenting opinion to the Court's abortion ruling would be merely an intellectual catharsis and an exercise in frustration if the Court's action could not be overriden. Our purpose thus far has been to show that the decision was patently unsound from either a logical, biomedical, moral, or legal perspective. Hopefully this knowledge of the decision's infirmity will provide an incentive to secure its reversal. Thus, in conclusion we offer guidelines for those who wish to challenge the ruling and vindicate the rights of the unborn child. Guidelines for Action At the State level the legislature has several plausible options. First, it can take advantage of the Court's failure to resolve "the difficult question of when life begins." It can declare as a conclusive presumption "that life commences at the instant of conception." This legislative finding of fact will reestablish protection for the unborn child, at least until the issue is settled as to whether or not the Court will accept a legislative determination in this area. Abele v. Markle (342 F. Supp. 800), in which this issue is raised, is now pending on appeal. Second, the legislature can memorialize Congress to adopt a constitutional amendment to protect the unborn child. Third, the legislature can petition Congress to call a constitutional convention to act on this issue and on others where the Court has overstepped its proper juris-diction. Fourth, it can require that the father's rights be protected in those cases where he does not agree to have his child killed. North Carolina has Abortion / 481 enacted such a provision. Fifth, it can and should provide that no person or institution shall be required to assist in any way with an abortion if such an act violates the values of that person or institution. Despite these State remedies, however, the most effective counter-mea-sures can be wielded by Congress. For example, the Congress can adopt and propose to the states a constitutional right-to-life amendment. While this is a time-consuming remedy it is also one that would be decisive and relatively enduring. It is the best course of action to pursue. Second, Congress can pass an act to establish the start of life at the instant of conception and thus answer the key question sidestepped by the Court. Third, the Congress can also remove the power of the Supreme Court to hear appeals in this area by altering the Court's appellate jurisdiction. There is precedent for such a move in the case of Ex parte McCardle (1869) and in the OPA cases of the World War II era. Such a course of action may seem drastic, but the Court's abortion ruling demands a vigorous and effective response. The Dred Scott Decision's denial of the Negro's right to citizenship was only overcome by the concerted and forceful effort of those who thought the Court's opinion morally, historically, and legally unsound; can we do less for those living yet unborn than to vindicate their right to life itself? How to Write Good Constitutions Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J. Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., is professor of theology and canon law at Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458. To write constitutions for religious communities is a difficult job. It requires a great deal of grace and common sense. No document with pious generali-ties would do; something more practical is necessary. No wonder that great and good constitutions for religious are few and far between. The following rules for writing good constitutions are not exhaustive, but they can be of some help to those who are wrestling with the task of finding new bottles for the new wine that is presently fermenting in the Church and in religious communities. 1. Good Constitutions Respond to Present Needs and Give Stability for the Future A basic rule is that constitutions should incorporate lasting values. The writers should look beyond the present and should design structures which will uphold the community's spiritual inspiration for many years to come. Sound organization brings stability without stifling natural evolution. Let us take an example from secular history. The crisis and upheavals that many European states suffered in modern history were due largely to their constitutional instability. Unsatisfactory and weak structures contrib-uted to divisions and unrest and did not allow for healthy evolution. The relative stability and continuity that the United States experienced from the beginning is the fruit of the wisdom of th~ founding fathers who gave the country a reasonable instrument of government, broad enough to accommo- 482 How to Write Good Constitutions / 483 date developments, yet strong enough to keep the nation togetherl While European states were changing and rewriting their constitutions with an alarming rapidity, the United States remained faithful to the original one. Surprisingly, the constitutions conceived for the emancipated colonies re-main an excellent instrument of balance for a modern powerful industrial nation. Had the first drafters been clearer about the relationship of the States to the Union, maybe the Civil War could have been avoided--or it would have been fought under other pretext than the issue of the right to secede. Yet, even though the Civil War happened, the fact stands: Substan-tial stability was given to the nation through a well-designed constitution which did not hamper good developments. To incorporate lasting values means to look beyond our own times. Much that is up-to-date and fashionable today will look hopelessly out-of-date to future generations. Constitutions should achieve a certain timelessness. This can be done only by those who have some knowledge of past history. By looking back they have another point of reference than the present; their horizon is broadened. Of course, I am not suggesting that the past should be copied or codified in the constitutions; but I am suggesting that those who know the present and the past are better forecasters and planners for the future than those who are limited by the narrow vision of the present. If you are on the high seas and have no other point of reference than the spot where the boat is, you cannot plan any safe course for your future journey. Writers of constitutions who do not know the history of religious orders are like navigators who did not absorb the common pru-dence and learning of their ancestors. They did not learn the trade; they may rock the boat. No one should conclude, however, that the constitutions should not be a response to present needs. They should--with an eye on the past and the future. 2. The Constitutions Must Reflect the Spirit of the Gospel but They Must Contain Specific Provisions for a Given Community It is easy to write new constitutions by paraphrasing the Gospels, and leave it at that. The trouble with such constitutions is that whatever they say, it has been said much better, and usually more concisely, by the evangelists. Why should anyone bother to go to second hand sources about Christian life when he can go to the original ones? Good constitutions cer-tainly reflect the spirit of the Gospel; they should not be soulless legal docu-ments. Yet what makes them constitutions is that they integrate spiritual principles with practical rules and structures suitable for a given community. Lofty doctrine should lead to sensible rules that free the community for the service of God and men, and create a harmonious human and Christian en-vironment. It is right to speak about the beauty of community life, but that beauty should not be lost in chaos and confusion when it comes to vital decisions. Down to earth practicality is the mark of good constitutions. 484 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 3. The Constitutions Should be the Codification of a Way of Life That Has Proved Itself, Not a Blueprint Conceived in the Abstract and to Be Imposed on the Community When we reflect on the beginnings of religious orders and congregations, we do not find that the founders first wrote abstract constitutions and then looked for some persons who were prepared to try them out. Rather, they first gathered a group for a specific way of life, for a particular apostolic task, and when it all worked out and the group was forged together into one community, they committed into writing what they lived and experienced so intensely. Therefore, a community should not be afraid of letting good customs de-velop without any kind of fixed rules. If the love of Christ is alive among them and they have enough common sense, such a process should be possi-ble. A good system of planned and controlled experiments is more important in these years than the writing of new norms. But the experiments should be controlled; there should be a good machinery for the critical evaluation of new enterprises. The whole process of experiments is meaningful in the context of an ongoing conversion only. If the members are not moving toward Christ, but are just asserting rights and liberties without reference to Him, what started as renewal can end up as disintegration. Freedom in Christ is necessary for developing sensible practical rules. 4. The Constitutions Should Contain a Balance between Light and Dark-ness, Joy and Sorrow, Life and Death; They Should Be Similar to the Gospels We explain this rule by contrasting two mentalities. The one wants to put into the constitutions all the negative sides of Christian life, such as mortifi-cation, abnegation, penance, and so forth. A most depressing document would ensue; enough to scare away any healthy individual. The other wants to speak about the positive sides only, such as peace, joy, exultation, and so forth. A most uplifting document would follow--with hidden deception in it. Both mentalities are one-sided. The right approach is in a harmony that we find so well expressed in the Gospel of St. John. The light is there, but so often it is surrounded by darkness. Life is there, but it must go through the baptism of death. Also, the harmonious blend of frustration and enrichment is manifest in the Sermon on the Mount: "Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven." Poverty and wealth go hand in hand. Incidentally, such balance is necessary in our liturgical celebrations" too. There we commemorate the whole life of Christ, His death and His resurrec-tion. The uninterrupted, one-sided celebration of joy can become inhuman and unchristian; in this life we need the quiet rhythm of sorrow and joy, darkness and light, to prepare us for the great final acts of death and life. How to Write Good Constitutions / 485 5. Keep in Mind that Faith, Hope, and Love Have No Measure; Everything Else Must Be Measur~ed A Christian can n.eve,,r. '.'exaggerate" in faith, hope, and love. He knows no limits to believing in God, to trusting and loving Him, because these "vir-tues" are gifts of grac~ ari.d, they originate m God's boundless generosity. Of course a man can distorf'tlie meaning of the gifts, he can express them one- ~,' sidely, he can even refu.s:e.them. But if he is open to the Spirit, there is a movement in his heart ffia( has no limit; it can expand indefinitely. Faith, hope, and love have an affimty with God's infinityi their growth is not sub-ject to any human measure. In all other virtues arid" actions, there is a measure. There is no limitless progress. There is a point b'eyond which the movement of construction be-comes the demon of destruction. In other terms, change is not equivalent to progress. A community b~ifit on change regardless of measure will eventu-ally destroy itself. R~al~,[ogress consists in finding the right amount of change at any given tithe, ~d no more¯ There is an obvious comparison: If you drive and do not press the ac-celerator enough, you db hot move, you crawl; if you oress ~t too much you are heading for disa~t6r. Movement and speed alone do not guarantee safe arrival. The history of religious life would offer olentv of examples to illustrate this truth. Let us g~ve lU.~t One. St. Franms of Assxs~ certa.inly loved poverty. He went far m giving a@a~.y, what he had, even to the point of deposmng h~s clothes at the feet of his '~.]]gry father. He became a pilgrim with no shelter over h~s head. But he d~d not sell himself into slavery as he could have done w~th a little ingenuity. Nor did he give his time away; in fact, he jealously guarded it. He estabfi'~he~d ~a measure in poverty, his own measure no doubt, but a measure nonetti~le~.°]-lad he not done so, had he been bent on giving all by selling himself ~'tl~b infidels as a slave on some galley, he would not have been free enough to start a great religious movement, he ould not have had ume and leigure t6 wander around and compose the Canticle o~ the Sttn.! ~"" After Vatican Council 1I many religious communities made great prog-ress in renewal, but s~n6~of them never thought of finding the right measure in change. They become intoxicated with new things and the movement that began under the ~nsplranon of the Spirit may eventually carry them too far, to the very bnnk of d~s~ster. A good question }"o¯r "~a' "c~onstitutional assembly, or for a general chapter, concerning every single 'i~ss uce is: What is the right measure in this matter? The measure, of course, '~oes change from time to time; no community should become static. But even if the measure changes, there is always a measure. The rule should be.~. a~plied. . to community life, to prayer, to apostolic 486 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 work--to everything, except faith, hope, and love. In those three the com-munity should open itself to the Spirit of God who can fill the members with His gifts beyond their desire and expectation. 6. Remember That Rules Are Necessary, but Persons Give Life to a Community Paradoxically, we could say that good persons can prosper even if the constitutions are bad, or, that good constitutions lead nowhere without the right persons to apply them. This is not to demean good constitutions. They work marvels with good persons. And bad constitutions can harm people. Rather, the paradox is a way of stressing that persons, not rules, give life to a community. Many religious institutes worshipped their own structures before the Council; the slightest infringement to the rule was considered a disgrace be-fore God and man. Today they understand better that the rules are means to open our hearts to faith, hope, and love and therefore there is nothing ab-solute about them. But structure-worship does not change easily; mentalities survive longer than we care to admit. Much of the naive belief in the mysteri-ous saving quality of the rule has been transformed into a utopian trust in the redeeming strength of committees. Committees are all right, although with measure. The greatest inspira-tions in the history of mankind never came from a committee. Legend has it that the camel owes its shape to a committee that wanted to design a horse. Be that as it may, the camel is a useful animal if you want to cruise in the desert. Yet we would hesitate to entrust the reshaping of this creation to a committee; it is frightening to think what would happen to the graceful flight of the seagull, to the playful nature of the chipmunk, or the trunk of the elephant. Government by committees is not well suited to the care of .persons. Who can open himself fully to a committee? Person to person relationship is necessary in religious government. Not on the pattern of father and child, or mother and daughter, but on the pattern of a wise and trusted companion caring for another. Therefore, in religious life there should be a way of recurring to a person above and beyond all committees. Take the example of a religious who has a serious personal problem--not the type he cares to preserve on files. He needs a change, perhaps a different job, at a different place. How can be ex-plain it all to a personnel board? 7. Good Constitutions Assure Both Broad Consultation and Efficient Action Good government in apostolic religious institutes is based on broad con-sultation among the members and on efficient action by the one in authority when it is needed. There must be in the community an upward movement of ideas. Every member has a right and duty to contribute to the welfare of How to Write Good Constitutions / 487 all. Therefore, at the base there must be a structure to assure that each can speak his mind and is listened to with respect. The result of this initial con-sultation process will be a mixed bag of ideas. Some will be excellent, some harmless, some to be discarded; in all they will be a fair representation of divine inspiration and human limitation. Therefore, some way must be found to screen them. This happens through the system of chapters. At the pro-vincial chapter elected representatives choose some ideas and proposals out of many. Eventually, an even smaller group, such as the general chapter, selects the best suggestions and makes them into guidelines and constitu-tional rules for the whole institute. Why this complex procedure? Because each has a right to speak, and God can speak through the smallest ones. But religious life is inspired by un-reachable ideals; therefore you want to choose the best of all suggestions. The clue to succcss is a wise combination of democracy and selectivity. The whole upward movement of ideas is a slow process. It involves long con-siderations and discussions. It is the proper field for committee activity! The application of the abstract policies and of constitutional guidelines to concrete individual cases is a different matter. The movement should mostly originate at the top where a trusted person leads and presides; he is the superior general. He is there to translate the norm into everyday actions. He should act with prudence, with the help of qualified counsel, and he should be swift and e~ficient too. He deals with particular communities and with individual persons. They need decisions, and they need them without much delay. The superior general's government can be spoiled in two ways. First, by distrust. The community may impose the duty on him of endless consulta-tions and impose all sort of checks, all to avoid a mistake. The result is a hesitant temporizing administration. Second, by cluttering up the line of ex-ecutive government by committees. They are never good for action; they are necessary for sorting our ideas, for setting policies. The superior general should be accountable. He should be responsible to the general chapter and should give a full account of his stewardship when-ever it meets. He should be removable; but as long as he is in once, he should be. trusted and free to take intelligent risks. Sbme communities built so many safeguards around their superiors that no intelligent and inspired initiative can be expected from them anymore; the safeguards from real or imagined tyranny will assure mediocrity for some time to come. Authori-tarianism was bad enough, but slowness and indecisiveness on the executive" level does not promise well for the future either. Let us remember also that a bad decision given with speed is frequently better than a good decision given with delay. Decision means movement; if it is a bad choice it can be corrected as long as there is life. No decision means lack of movement and lack of life. It cannot even be corrected. In all, we propose a healthy cycle, intended mainly for apostolic corn- 488 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 197~,/3 munities. It begins with full consultations; it gives the ultimate power to the chap(er; yet it retains person to person relationships in government. But we do not propose this pattern with any rigidity. Its basic simplicity allows many variations according to the traditions and desires of different communities; it can even be combined with other systems. 8. Community Means Unity in Diversity; Diversity without Unity Destroys the Community How far can a community go in pluralism without destroying its cohe-sion? To answer this question, consider the unity in diversity that you find in an orchestra. The players have different instruments; they even play different melodies. Yet, the product is a symphony with depth and harmony. Har-mony is possible because there is a limit to this diversity. Pluralism in a religious community can be interpreted in two ways. It may mean differences that contribute to the unity of the group; or, it may mean differences, that do not have an internal finality toward unity. The former makes the community, the latter destroys it. It follows that before talk begins about pluralism and its extent, the com-munity must define the type of unity they desire to maintain. Once the mem-bers know how united they want to be in their life style, in their apostolic endeavor, they can determine how much pluralism they can allow. There is no general rule for the extent of pluralism a community can bear; the unity they need is the measure of it. 9. You Will Know the Tree by Its Fruit, but Remember Some Trees Take a Long Time to Bear Fruit The constitutions should provide for an ongoing evaluation of the com-munity, in particular of the new experiments. Chapters on local, 'provincial, and general levels can be good instruments of evaluation. Each session should begin with an examination of conscience: how far in fact the com-munity lived up to its ideals. Most chapters are looking into the future; they are planning sessions. They should give equal time to the past, not in the form of debate, but in the form of a prayerful examination of conscience. They should give a good critical look at the fruit that was recently produced. The word experiment underwent many changes. Often it is used for change, an illegitimate use. We all would gain by restoring its primal mean-ing which is "to test something under controlled circumstances so that the process can be judged and evaluated." If we need change, by all means let us have it, but we must not call it experimentation; if we need experiments, let us do them properly. But experiments in religious life are not the same as those performed by physicists. The stakes are high in religious life; the faith, hope, and love of the members can be affected. Besides, fruits mature slowly because the ulti-mate test for any experiment is its contribution to a climate in which the How to Write Good Constitutions / 489 community is more open .and receptive to the grace of God. Often many years will be necessary to know the value of an experiment. Early judgments can be rash judgments. Take the issue of formation. No one can fully evaluate a particular pro.gram of formation until those formed have gone through many tests and trio!s in their religious vocation. I0. Good Constitutions Cannot Be Composed under Stress Peace of mind and he.a.rt is a necessary condition for wisdom and inspira, tion. Polarization and division in the community is an obstacle to grace and to human creativity. The c_0mmunity must be healed before it can produce. A community not .at p.eace may be tempted to write constitutions by way of reaction to past or t.o pre.sent trends, or to search for a feasible compromise which will not represent any high ideal. A disturbed group should not write constitutions. Peace i~ ne~e~sary to receive the Spirit and to create good and lasting structures. A group's first duty is to create life in harmony and attend to the task of writing .afte.r they have found peace with God, with the C. hurch, and with each other. Conclusion Good constitutions a.re. a blend of spiritual wisdom and shrewd practical judgment. The form.e.r is given by God, the latter is the result of human creativity. Constitutions .c.a.,nnot take the place of faith, hope, and charity, but they can be a powev.f.ul instrument to keep the process of conversion alive in a community, The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat Herbert F. Smith, S.J. Herbert F. Smith, S.J., a well known spiritual writer and director of retreats, is sta-tioned at St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. During the last decade there has been a rebirth of the directed Ignatian re-treat. The directed retreat is a marked departure from the familiar preached retreat in which we customarily spent some two hours a day hearing the word of God as it was spoken and interpreted by the retreat master. Origins in Experimentation The successful return of the directed retreat can almost certainly be credited to that widespread phenomenon of our day, the passion for experi-mentation. The experimental approach springs from a twofold conviction: that we can produce something better; and that, in an age wherein proliferat-ing options are overloading our decision-making powers, we must discover what is most relevant. We have all benefited from the experimental approach. Consider agri-culture. Ten years ago there was widespread talk of the impossibility of feeding the world's people. Today there is not. That is largely because, in the interval, agricultural experimentation was carried on in the Philippines to produce a new strain of wheat. The first objective was to produce a better wheat, one that would give a greater yield per acre. The second objective was produce a more relevant wheat, one hardy enough to flourish on poor land in cold climates. The result is 1R-3. It is revolutionizing the growth of wheat, turning traditionally wheat-importing countries to wheat exporters. In the field of religion, we have similar problems and similar inclinations. How can we raise up better Catholic Christians, people more in contact with 490 Directed Retreat / 491 God, more committed to Him, more faithful to the Church, more productive in the service of the kingdom? How can we form more relevant Catholic Christians, people who can responsibly handle the increased responsibility laid on each today? Enterprising men and women in the Church are pre-senting the directed lgnatian retreat as one answer. Is it? I think it is, but my objective here is not to give proof of that. My objective is rather to give information concerning the nature of a directed retreat. Judgments can come later. What is a directed retreat? I will proceed to answer that question by giving a series of progressively improving definitions until we ultimately reach the most illuminating definition I can provide. One-to-one Relationship The directed retreat is a retreat made neither alone nor in a large group; ]urthermore, it is made without the help of several talks a day. This incom-plete definition is meant to clarify the manner in which the directed retreat departs from the familiar preached retreat. The directed retreat involves one director and one retreatant operating in a one-to-one relationship. The di-rector may or may not be directing other retreatants simultaneously, but in any case he guides each retreatant as though he alone were on retreat. Of course, there may be some interplay between retreatants. They may cele-brate Mass together. They may do shared prayer. Smallest Possible Community The directed retreat is a concerted effort to seek God in the smallest possible community. In a directed retreat, everything is set up and directed to help the retreatant find God. All irrelevant and distracting persons and entities are withdrawn. That leaves us with the smallest possible community, a community of three, in the likeness of the Trinity. The community of three which results can be described in various ways. It can be seen as composed of the retreatant, God, and His Spirit; God is the goal, and the Holy Spirit is the agent. He guides the retreatant to God, and He is the Love between the retreatant and God. There is, from another viewpoint, the triad of the retreatant, the director, and the Holy Spirit. The retreatant and the director work out the retreat in concert, and the Holy Spirit is the one Guide of both. From a still more comprehensive viewpoint, the tripartite community is made up of the retreatant, God, and the Church (whom the director em-bodies and represents). The reason for setting up this smallest possible community is to promote the total personalization of the /etreat. All transactions are aimed directly at the one retreatant and his unique personal needs here and now. While it is true that God always can and does work as personally with an individual in a group as with an individual off by himself, the retreat director cannot. And conversely, the retreatant cannot. The fact that God can is the saving grace Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 197~//.~ of group retreats. The fact that retreatant and d~tector cannot is the reason there is at times no substitute for a directed retreai; The tiny directed retreat community favors ~nt,~ate contact that helps the retreatant to come to know his God, himself, and .his Church in an intimate new way. By intimacy I mean an attentive, h~!thy, open, and receptive relationship with another that is productive of a ifilJ~aal identification in joys and sorrows. Directed to Spiritual Exercising The directed retreat is the engaging in sptr~tua.l exercises under the daily guidance oJ a di'rect6r who h'as the twoJold rDi~ ol retreat director and spiritual direc'tor. The function of the retreatant ~ ~o do spiritual exercises. The function of the director is to guide and mo,ri~tor the exercises. In the directed retreat, there is emphasis on ttlE aiztivity of the retreatant. We have all seen the retreat master of the prea@fid retreat deliver his four and five talks a day, hear confessions, hold interviews, and stagger out of the house exhausted six days later. The directed r~ii:Eat, bn the contrary, de-mands much more of the retreatant and focuseg bn what the retreatant is doing more than on what the director is saying. !f tti( rctreatant's activity still involves a great deal of active listening, it i~ ndt a human being he spends a lot of time listening to, it is God. St. Ignatius himself stresses the activity of th~ i'etr~atant, whom he calls the exercitant. He introduces his little book for r~ii'eat Jig "spiritual exercises Which have as their purpose the conquest of self iind t~ie regulation of one's life in such a way that no decision is made under: th~ influence of any in-ordinate attachment" (#21 ). The director gives the retreatant daily guidani~i~. Generally, the two meet once a day. The director provides spoken or writieh ~5oints for meditation, and they are generally given very briefly. If the iziirEctdr has more than one retreatant, he may give points in common to savd time, where this is not to the disadvantage of the retreatants. The retreatant gives the director a faithful afifi~Sufi~ of the inner experi-ences and responses which take place in the coti~se 6i' his meditations. He tells of joy or sadness, peace or unrest, hope 0i: [6ai'; and so on. This ac-count of one's personal experiences is always gi~,(h ili a private interview. This account is at the heart of the directed retiE~ii, as is the response the director makes to it. The practice of making ttiis reiSort develops the re-treatant's ability to discern the movements of ~.Sbd ~ind evil that play in man's mind, heart, and feelings. The guidance dt~ [he ~tirector helps the re-treatant learn how to distinguish between the godi:l ~iri~i evil influences more successfully. Most important, it helps him distili~iiist] the divine call from every other influence on him. This knowledge frdE~ iaiih from old slavery to whims and emotions and nagging feelings of guilt: ii h61ps him to put on the mind of Christ. Directed Retreat / 493 Functions of the Director From what has just been said, it becomes manifest that the director of the directed retreat has two clearly distinct functions. First, like the director of a preached retreat, he provides the retreatant with input for the meditations. Let it be added that, both in the brief way he provides this material and in the selection of the material he provides, he himself is guided in a general way by his source material, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. The director feeds in this input in harmony with the retreatant's actual accomplishments, thus moderating the advance and flow of the retreat in a fully personalized way. The director is fully aware that the graces sought in each meditation are necessary graces which have to be built up in their proper order like the parts of a building: sorrow for sin is the excavation, forgiveness the founda-tion, and so forth. This careful control of the process of the retreat is cer-tainly one of the great advantages of a directed retreat. Second, the retreat director is the retreatant's spiritual director. The great religions of the world, even in their most mystical traditions, all teach the need of a guide, be he a guru, a starets, a roshi, a spiritual director. Without a director, there can be no making of the Spiritual Exercises, as a reading of the introductory observations will establish. Without a director there has not been set up the necessary mini-community described in the second definition. The Discerning Process The director helps the retreatant to discern the mysteries of the interior life in a practical way that is meant to lead to practical decisions and practi-cal service of Christ. The retreatant himself is always the primary discerner, and the director the auxiliary discerner. Only the retreatant is present to his own inner experiences. Unless he gives a good and faithful report, the aux-iliary discerner cannot give the help he is meant to give. The retreatant, then, is the subjective discerner. The director is the objec-tive discerner. As objective discerner, he interprets the experiences of the retreatant in accord with the Biblical and doctrinal expressions of revelation as it is guarded and developed and handed on by the whole Church. If the retreatant too is learned in theology, and sometimes even if he is not, he may be able to interpret his experiences quite authentically himself. But in accord with the wisdom of the Church and of revelation, the People of God do not rely on themselves individually, but depend on one another in the effort to understand the meaning of God's communications, even the individual and personal ones. If the retreatant is guided by the Holy Spirit to come to a cer-tain decision, the director can hope to be guided by Him to confirm the decision. The Priest-confessor and the Retreat Director The role of the director as auxiliary discerner is made even clearer if we consider the distinction between the role of the priest-conJessor and the role 494 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 of the retreat spiritual director. The confessor in the sacrament of penance is concerned primarily with the moral order, with the person's conscious, sin-ful rebellions against God's will. The retreat spiritual director is concerned with the retreatant's inner experiences, his moods, attractions, and repulsions, even before he has made any deliberate free responses to them. The con-fessor wants to know what a man has done of good and evil. The director wants to know to what seeming good and what seeming evil the retreatant is being drawn through his inner experiences in prayer and meditation. St. Ignatius himself makes this distinction, and even makes it clear that the retreatant' should feel free to go to a confessor other than the director: While the one who is giving the Exercises should not seek to investigate and know the private thoughts and sins of the exercitant, nevertheless, it will be helpful if he is kept faithfully informed about the various disturbances and thot~ghts caused by the action of different spirits. This will enable him to propose some spiritual exercises in accordance with the degree of progress made and suited and adapted to the needs of a soul disturbed in this way (#17). It might be pointed out here that the director need not be a priest. He or she need only be a spiritually gifted person experienced in living the spiritual life, possessing the developed capacity to guide others, having a good knowl-edge of the faith, and knowing the Spiritual Exercises through exercise in them. This is a fact,to be underscored, since if the one-to-one retreat is to proliferate, many directors will have to be drawn from religious men and women and other members of the laity. Sisters and laymen are in fact al-ready active in directing retreats. The retreatant needs openness and courage to give his director the neces-sary account. Still he does not need to steel himself to bare his whole soul, as he sometimes finds it necessary to do with his regular spiritual director, and certainly finds it necessary to do with his confessor. Direct Communication with God .4 directed retreat is a retreat in which one is guided by a director to do spiritual exercises which will purge him, illumine him, and dispose him Jor direct communication and communion with God, direct guidance Jrom Him, and the readiness to do His will. This final definition gives a comprehensive idea of the directed retreat. The Ignatian directed retreat is divided into four parts or weeks. It was Ignatius' hope that the retreatant would really spend a whole month, apart from all other business, in making his retreat. Thirty-day retreats are being conducted today. More often, however, the retreat is condensed and made in a period of eight days. The first week provides spiritual exercises of purgation. The second week provides spiritual exercises of illumination which call the retreatant to a more wholehearted commit-ment to Jesus. The third and fourth weeks invite one to share Jesus' ex-perience of passion and resurrection as a preview of one's own future in His Directed Retreat / 495 service and life. In everything, Christ is the retreatant's life, his light, his salvation, his motivation. The directed retreat is a search for direct communication and communi-cation with God. To miss this would be to miss the meaning of the directed retreat. The preacher of the preached retreat is not really replaced by the director. He is replaced by God who Himself gives His message to the re-treatant here and now. The retreatant hears God, not by words in his ears, but by the various movements in his inner life which have been described in this article as the experiences which call for discernment. To come into a retreat with this expectation calls for deep faith in both the director and the retreatant. No doubt this faith frequently falters in both, perhaps most when they are least aware of the fact. Some directors may not even have the conviction that this direct communication and communion with God should take place, but then they are betraying their trust, for it is inescapably clear that this is the expectation and absolute conviction of the author of the Exercises. He writes: The director of the Exercises ought not to urge the exercitant more to poverty or any promise than to the contrary, nor to one state of life or way of living more than another. Outside the Exercises, it is true, we may lawfully and meritoriously urge all who probably have the required fitness to choose continence, virginity, the religious life, and every form of religious perfection. But while one is engaged in the Spiritual Exercises, it is more suitable and much better that the Creator and Lord in person communicate Himself to the devout soul in quest of the divine will, that He inflame it with His love and praise, and dispose it for the way in which it could better serve God in the future (# 15). What Ignatius expects is that the retreatant will, by making the Exercises, repeat some of his own experiences of God guiding him. Those experiences were so vivid that Ignatius called God his "Schoolmaster." Let me point out here by way of example that we customarily describe the attraction to the priesthood as a "vocation," a "call" from God. St. Ignatius is simply broadening the base of that belief by affirming that God calls us directly to many things, to little things, every day, if we can hear His voice and if we will respond to it. God's call is experienced through the inner movements of love, joy, peace, attraction to a better way, and so forth. According to Karl Rahner, S.J., this is a case of grace breaking into consciousness. In essence, therefore, the directed retreat is meant to be a mystical retreat. It is a series of spiritual exercises and prayers and contem-plations in search of the experience of God and the reading out of His will. It is a transcendental relationsh!p breaking into consciousness. Directed versus Preached Retreat It should be of help to add a brief comparison of the directed and the preached retreat. The directed ~'etreat is the authentic presentation of the 496 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 Spiritual Exercises. This is a fact of history, but it also stands from an ex-amination of the introductory observations in the Spiritual Exercises. Still, that does not mean that the directed retreat is always best for everyone, in every set of circumstances. St. Ignatius makes it clear in the Exercises them-selves that not everyone is suited for them or ready for them. Nor are they necessarily better for anyone, year after year. They have a certain inherent advantage in that they guide the retreatant to listen directly to God Himself. On the other hand, there are times when God Himself sends us to men, as He did Paul after his conversion experience. Many factors must be weighed in determining which type of retreat will be best: the level of human ma-turity; the level of religious maturity; the personal needs at the moment, such " as the need of making a decision concerning a state of life; the level of gen-erosity, of restfulness, of vitality. The preached retreat remains of immense value when it is well con-ducted. I support this simply by appeal to the years of experience which most of us have had in making such retreats and which some of us have had in con-ducting them. Furthermore, preached retreats are excellent opportunities for hearing the word of God, and men always remain bearers of that word. There is no substitute for the preached word of God, iust as there is no sub-stitute for the inner experience of God. Then, too, the preached retreat is an opportunity to share the personal faith vision and synthesis of the retreat master who can often communicate his experience with the help of some specialized theological, sociological, or psychological competence. What it comes to is that the preached and the directed retreat are two species of retreat. Each has its own unique value, and each addresses itself to unique needs. 3-he directed retreat is of unsurpassed value for times when serious decisions have to be made. It is also of unsurpassed value in provid-ing a guided and formative experience in living the interior life. It has great value in helping a person find direct communication with God and in coming to other primary religious experiences. The preached retreat is especially valuable for broadening .and articu-lating our knowledge and vision of the faith. This helps us overcome our per-sonal limitations and biases, so that we can formulate a more comprehensive response to God. It helps us supply for our personal lack of initiative in over-coming our deficiencies. It can stir new faith in us, for belief is communi-cated by believers; and it can stir new love of God in us, for love is com-municated by lovers. In brief; the preached retreat is especially valuable in those times when for one reason or another, we need the word of God preached to us through the agency of men. Editor's Note: For other treatments of the directed retreat and of the Spiritual Exer-cises of St. Ignatius Loyola, see Sister Margaret Baker, H.V.M., "My Experience of a Directed Retreat," Review Jot Religious, July 1972, pp. 573-7: William A. Barry, SJ., Directed Retreat / 497 If this information and these norms do not yet make it clear which retreat you should prefer, I would offer one piece of advice. Experiment. Try th~ one you haven't experienced. For St. Ignatius, the need for experimentation was one of the fundamental principles of the spiritual life. "The Experience of the First and Second Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises," Review ]or Religious, January 1973, pp. 102-9; William Connolly, S.J., "Story of the Pilgrim King and the Dynamics of Prayer," Review ]or Religious, March 1973, pp. 268-72; and William A. Barry, S.J., "Silence and the Directed Retreat," Review ]or Religious, March 1973, pp. 347-51. Father Smith's present article, "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat," is available (at 20 cents per copy plus postage) from Review for Religious; 612 Hum-boldt Building: St. Louis. Missouri 63103; a previous article by the same author, Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer," is also available from the same address at 25 cents a copy plus postage. The Healing of Memories Francis Martin Father Francis Martin, a member of Madonna House; Combermere, Ontario KOJ 1LO; Canada, is presently completing his doctorate in Scripture in Rome. Our memory is a mysterious thing. St. Augustine, in his Confessions (Bk 10) spoke of "the fields and vast palaces of memory," and "the huge court of my memory." In his Treatise on the Trinity, Augustine saw man as an image of the Trinity because in his one interior being there were the three realities of memory, understanding, and will. Memory is compared to God the Father because it is an image of eternity, because it is the point out of which spring understanding and love, and in relation to these it has no be-ginning. Growth in Spirituality and Growth in Memory The vast universe of inner being has its spiritual origin in what we call today "awareness" or "consciousness." It is this that St. Augustine called "memoria." In some ways his term is better than ours since it points to the mysterious fact that memory is the principle of continuity. In my awareness of myself, I know myself to be the same man who yesterday lived through a certain series of experiences--I answer to the same name; and the reason for this is memory. Thus, awareness of ourselves always involves knowing "where we come from" not only in the sense of our past, but also in the sense of our Source, our Creator. We come from our past since we are at any moment of our lives the person who has lived through and been affected by a whole concatenation of experiences which we recall only imperfectly. We come from God since He has made us and at this moment is present to us, holding us in existence, though we are most often unaware of this. There is a way, then, in which it is true to say that growth in spirituality is growth in memory: it is an increasing awareness of where we come from. 498 The Healing o] Memories / 499 A deep awareness of God present to us, creating, saving, and sanctifying us, is an intimate and essential dimension of self-awareness, just as, on the other hand, our memory of the experiences which have made us who we are is a necessary part of our total awareness of who we are in God. Since this is so, there come moments in our lives when those experiences which have hurt us and twisted us somewhat must be brought to awareness and healed so that our life of prayer may deepen and our presence to God be-come more conscious. This process is called the healing of our memories or the healing of our inner being. Memory as the Sacrament of God's Presence It is not that memory only serves to retain those wounds of the past that are imperfectly healed. Our memory also carries deep within it those effects of God's action in our lives, those moments that in a special way make up our own salvation history. In allowing ourselves to enter once again into those recesses of our being where the awareness of God's action is still a living thing, we put our present experience into perspective. Deeper than this, through this memory, this action of God still living in us as a sacrament of His presence, we enter into a knowledge of where we come from: our past itself becomes the chalice containing our awareness of God. The Psalmist sings: "God, you are my God; 1 long for you, my soul thirsts for you . Upon my bed 1 remember you, in the watches of the night I dwell on you. Yes, you are my Help; in the shadow of your wings I sing for joy. My soul clings to you, your right hand holds me" (Ps 63: 1, 7-9). The remembering of God brings us to songs of joy as we find ourselves protected by the vast expanse of His overshadowing wings. In this sense our memory is our access to awareness of the presence of God: He who has made us and saved us, for whom there is no time, and who is at this moment holding us in existence and giving us His life, is He who "is and was and is to come" (Rev 1:4). Our memory of what God has done brings us to the awareness that the effects of His saving acts exist in us by the mystery of His presence. Thus, though we name God by what He has done, we are speaking to Him who is present, and we know that when we shall see Him as He is, we will recognize Him as He who has always' been with us. The command of Jesus in connection with the Eucharist applies to all prayer both in com-mon and in the secret of our own heart: "Do this in memory of me." Obstacles to Living Memory But what are the obstacles to this living memory of the past upon which faith is founded, and this living memory of the future which is the inner face of hope? The greatest obstacle is our inability to "remember" because our memory is protecting itself from the wounds it carries within it. The wounds inflicted by others and the effects of our own sins still lie hidden in our inner being. These wounds are like so many "black and blue marks" on 500 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 our psyche: they are areas too sensitive to touch and yet they impede our movement. Our Lord wants to heal those wounds, either by taking them completely away or by taking away our fear of them enabling us to live in simple acceptance of our weakness and limitation. No matter what the source of these wounds, they can be the means of our union with Jesus whose wounds still shine gloriously in heaven. Even now our weakness makes the glory of God all the more manifest: "About this thing, I have pleaded with the Lord three times for it to leave me, but he has said, 'My grace is enough for you: my power is at its best in weakness.' So I shall be very happy to make my weaknesses my special boast so that the power of Christ may stay over me. " (2 Cor 12:8-10). Consciousness and Forgiveness This healing from inner wounds and from the fear of them, this healing of our memories, takes place most often through a process of consciousness and forgiveness: consciousness removes the protective but smothering layers of forgetfulness and opens that area of our being to the light and air of God, and forgiveness is a healing balm that eases pain and fosters restoration. We should speak about this process for a minute. We are aware, sometimes more forcefully than others, that there are ob-stacles that prevent us from being at ease with the Lord. We attribute this uneasiness to our sinfulness, especially to those sins and infidelities of which we are conscious. We know, really, that having sinned is no obstacle to find-ing joy in the Lord's presence: we often quote to others and to ourselves those incidents in the Gospels where Jesus goes out of His way to "welcome sinners and eat with them" (Lk 15:2). We have the constant testimony of the lives and words of the saints, and we see many people around us who bear this same witness. Still, when we are alone with the Lord, we are un-easy. Sometimes, even in deep prayer when we are aware of our Lord draw-ing close to us, we can find our minds starting to wander, almost trying to create distractions because of a fear of His presence. There can be many reasons for this, but basically we instinctively know, as we do in any love relationship, that unconditional love once accepted from the beloved obliges us to the same commitment, and we are afraid. We fear for ourselves in a commitment that takes from us the control over our own lives and future: when once we admit that we are so loved, we are no longer "free." One of the fears occasioned by charismatic manifestations of our Lord's presence is precisely this: that the Lord, through these signs of His nearness and His love, becomes too real and too obviously committed to us to be kept at a distance by our careful rationalizations and our well-apportioned times for prayer. Such initiative on the Lord's part demands conversion from us. We are called to receive the kingdom of God like a littlc child (see Mk 10: 15), but we prefer that illusion of autonomy we have so carefully created for ourselves. The Healing o] Memories / 501 However, for most of us, our Lord exercises too great an attraction to be put completely behind the bars of our self-centered caution. As we become more familiar with His presence and a little more faithful to His Spirit in us, we are less uneasy. But we must go further. Very soon in a serious life of faith we must renounce our bondage to darkness, we must be freed from our attachment to those things that hold us back from a pure surrender to the action of God in us. We must live out totally those renunciations we made at our baptism and which we ratify at every Easter Vigil. And it is here we find great difficulty and meet with the obstacles of selfishness, sensuality, ambi-tion, resentment, pride, fear, and so forth. Healing Our Memories Now the source of some of these blocks that we notice in ourselves, some of that fear of God and shame before others, as well as our attempts to com-pensate for these feelings, can be traced, as has been said, to unhealed wounds left in our inner being by incidents of our past. Of some of these we are conscious, of some but half-conscious, and of others we may be no longer conscious at all. How does one proceed in allowing our Lord to heal these memories? There are three things to be done: inner prayer; a sharing, in some degree at least, with another; and faith contact with the Body of Christ. In other terms we could describe these three this way: we enter into the sanctuary of our inner being and allow our wounds to become conscious; we pray with another who, as bearing within himself the mystery of Christ and His healing power, can be an instrument of peace; and we open ourselves, through forgiveness of others and the discipline of authentic personal re-lationships within the sacramentalized context of a truly human community, to the truth that sets us free. The first step is individual prayer; the second is confession which achieves a particular power if it is sacramental; and the third is community whose deepest source and most powerful presence is the Eucharist. Renouncing Our Resentments Let us begin with inner prayer. When we are alone at prayer, we should quite simply and directly ask our Lord to heal our memories. This may be a very general prayer at first, and may remain so for many days as we re-peat this request in our prayer. Our prayer may go something like this: "Lord Jesus, may You be praised for the love and mercy You have shown me all my life; I praise You and I thank You for that love with which You died for us and with which You share the radiance of Your risen life. Lord, You see into the depths of my soul; You know that I am wounded. The reality of evil has touched me in my own sin and in the sins and imperfec-tions of others. Lord, heal me of these wounds, let the power and beauty of Your life shine in me. I renoun(e attachment to my resentments, I forgive anyone who has ever hurt me, and I pray for them. Jesus, I join myself to 502 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 that act of forgiveness in which You died, and I love all those people who have entered my life; I embrace them with the same love and tenderness You have for them. I hold them up before Your face, O Lord, that You may bless them and be kind to them." It may happen during this prayer that certain people or incidents arise in our memory, and we re-experlence all the hurt and anger we first knew when the event occurred. It may be our parents or some other adults during our younger years: teachers, priests, some authority figure. It may be someone in our mature years: friend, husband, wife, employer, .superior, someone who betrayed us. Or it may be something quite abstract: "the system," the Church, my education, society, though these latter abstractions are usually evasive symbols covering a person we do not wish to think about. In any case, when someone particular comes to mind, we should stop our prayer and gently, without forcing ourselves, take this person into our heart. Do not be surprised at the degree of repugnance such an interior gesture meets with. Go gently, but firmly. Resolve very quietly that you will to be de-tached from this resentment. It is better to go gently over a period of a few days with a clear awareness of the issue and a determination to share Jesus' love for this person, than to make a violent, emotional "act of the will" that only harms your own heart and is but counterfeit love for the other. When this person is in your heart, then look at Jesus and say in the name of both of you who have now become one in love, "Lord have mercy." In such a gesture, we admit our need for mercy and pray for the other person with the same desire for their well being as we have for our own. The Lord always hears this prayer. Offering the Fullness of Forgiveness It is very important in this prayer that we do not waste our time in some sort' of amateur self psychoanalysis. We are praying for our own healing with the faith-knowledge that we can never be healed without the healing of our relationships and this includes, of course, desiring that others be healed. A large part of our own personality is made up of our relations to others. We are truly and maturely persons when both the individual and the social dimensions of our being are in contact and harmony with Jesus Christ. It was this realization that led Origen to posit among the seven ways that sins are remitted, "that we forgive our brothers their sins." For, as this great teacher goes on to say: "Our Lord and Savior himself told us this when he said, 'If you forgive others their offences, your heavenly Father will forgive you, but if you do not forgive others then neither will your Father forgive you your offences.' Then too, the Lord taught us to say in prayer, 'Forgive us our debts as we have forgiven those who are in debt to us' " (Homily 2 on Leviticus). There are many emotional blocks to the fullness of the forgiveness we offer to others as they dwell in our hearts, but with prayer, honesty, and The Healing o] Memories / 503 gentleness with ourselves our Lord can heal these. This sanctification of our emotional relationships is an aspect of the way the Body of Christ "builds itself up in love" (Eph 4: 16). Since this healing pertains to the mystery of the Church in its reality as a divinization of that complex web of relation-ships by which all men are, in some deep way, linked to one another, it often happens that our Lord's action within us as we pray alone leads us to see that for deeper healing we should go and pray with another. In and through this other human being, we contact Christ, and thus also every other person in this world. We should go to someone in whom we have confidence and share with that person our burden to the degree of explicitness that the Lord leads to, as both of us pray. This is one way that we carry out that injunc-tion of St. Paul to "serve one another in love," and is a practical realization of that mutual care for one another that he describes as "carrying one anothers' burdens" (see Gal 5: 13, 6:2). Sharing Our Wounds with Others Early Christians often went to the holy men to share with them the wounds of their soul and to receive their blessing and their prayers for heal-ing. In ancient monastic life thig "manifestation of thoughts" (both good and bad) to one's spiritual father was a daily practice. Other Christians went to these men of th.e Spirit for a confession of healing whenever they felt the need. Often, but not necessarily, these spiritual fathers were priests. For, be-sides those upon whom the Church has conferred in a special and explicit way the power given her by the Lord for inner healing, there are many other people who receive this gift from the Lord by another kind of action of the Holy Spirit: "There are different ministries but the same Lord" (1 Cor 12:4). While it is always possible to share our burden with friends and pray with them for healing and have them lay hands on us, there are times when we should go to someone whom the Lord seems to have endowed in a particular way with gifts of discernment and healing. Such people, accord-ing to the unanimous witness of tradition, are recognizable by their humility, their gentleness and patience with others, and their chaste, other-centered love. In the early Church we find them described as "someone who encour-ages the brethren" or again, "a pool where the liv.ing waters ofGod's love for man are gathered." In their hearts, the love of Christ has worked a puri-fication which has brought the gift of understanding hearts and of healing them to a certain stability and power. Other Facets of the Obstacles in Our Souls As someone with whom we have shared our burden begins to pray with us, we may become aware of many other facets of the obstacles in our soul, blocking us from true freedom with the Lord. We should quietly renounce attachment to these obstacles; this is especially importantin the areas of sen-sual pleasure, anger, and resentment. Again, let the truth be strong and 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 undiluted in our soul, but let the truth come from theLord and not from our self-hate, fear, or shame. Perhaps our Lord will enlighten us by giving words of prophecy to the person or persons praying over us. Most often these words have an intensely personal content for us, unsuspected by the other: his message shows us our attachment to sin or calms and heals our fear. In either case, when it is the Lord who is acting, we experience the liberation and strengthening of hearing "the truth in love." Though most of the time the healing takes place through a certain remembering of past incidents that have wounded us and a consequent conferring and receiving of forgiveness, this is not always the case either in private prayer or in prayer with others. Sometimes the Lord heals us without bringing the wound to consciousness at that moment, or at all. This is why it is so important we do not attempt to force things from our memory, but simply be willing to see and acknowl-edge anything, no matter how painful or embarrassing, that occurs to us as we pray in this way. Mark the Hermit, in one of his maxims, reminds us that unhealthy concentration on our past sins "brings sadness and banishes hope." This is true of undue preoccupation with our weaknesses and inner wounds: that ceaseless "search and destroy" drive we find in ourselves does not come from the Lord. As a matter of fact, to spend time in anxious worry and endless self-investigation is to act as though our Lord did not really appreciate how weak we are and could not help our compromised honesty to a greater degree of simplicity and truth. When we ask the Lord for healing, we are asking the Lord to heal us. He will usually do this by working in us a greater con-sciousness of our wounds and deeper capacity to trust Him and love and forgive others: our role is to agree to the action of God in us as He answers our prayer. His healing will be an inner touch and sometimes also an exterior word of discernment, encouragement, or revelation of what lies in our heart. Forgiving Sins by Healing Them The ancient Church in Syria reminded a bishop on the day of his ordina-tion that because he had been given the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins, he had been constituted a "healer of the Church of God." In the Byzan-tine rite of today there is mention of healing in the prayer for the ordination of both bishop and priest. This is but another reflection of the deep connec-tion the Eastern Church has always seen between ordination and the min-istry of healing. Origen advises his listeners to think carefully about "the doctor to whom you should make known the cause of your illness." He should be someone who "knows how to be sick with someone sick, to weep with one who weeps; who knows the discipline of grieving and suffering with another," and who can decide wisely whether or not "your illness should be brought out and healed in a meeting of the whole Church, so that others can be built up and you canbe healed the more easily" (Homily 2 on Psalm 37). The Healing o] Memories / 505 Healing and the Sacrament of Penance The above passage has its difficulties, but given the whole context of the accent on healing in connection with the forgiveness of sins in the Eastern Church, and other statements of Origen's elsewhere, we can see that the priest was looked upon as being able to forgive sins by healing them in their source and prescribing the proper remedy. This same thinking is reflected in many early commentaries on our Lord's words as reported in John 20:22-3: "He breathed on them and said, 'Receive the Holy Spirit. For those whose sins you forgive, they are forgiven; for those whose sins you retain, they are retained.' " The link between the Holy Spirit and the for-giveness of sins was found in the active presence of love, and this in turn was manifested in the wisdom shown in healing the wounds of God's people. Healing is an act of the Spirit who is described in the Roman rite, in one of the Masses during the former octave of Pentecost, as being "Himself the forgiveness of sins." Thus, "therapeutic confession" and the presentation of one's sins before the bishop or his appointed representative in order to be re-integrated into the community by public penance, were not considered as completely dis-tinct. These two roles tended to blend, especially in the Western Church as the centuries progressed and, unfortunately, the legal preoccupation domi-nated. However, in the intuition of the faithful, it was most probably the desire for an inner healing that inspired people to practice regular confes-sion. This desire was only dimly realized and poorly expressed, but it was there. Today, a deeper understanding, on the part of both priest and peni-tent, of the healing power of penance could mean a greater presence within the Church of a ministry of inner healing. Father Michael Scanlon in his recent booklet, The Power in Penance (Ave Maria Press) has performed a great service in suggesting practical ways to exercise this ministry. Priests must pray deeply for a revitalizing of the healing power conferred on them at ordination. They must strive in their own lives to be mature men, those "seniores" described by the Rule of St. Benedict as men who "know how to cure their own and others' wounds without disclosing them in public" (Ch. 46). The Eucharist and Inner Healing Now that we have touched upon the sacramental dimensions of inner healing, it would be worthwhile to meditate, just briefly, on the role of the Eucharist in inner healing. The celebration of the Eucharist is the "source and summit of the whole work of preaching the gospel" according to Vatican 1I (On Priests, par. 5). It is in this reality that the Church expresses her own inner nature and realizes it ever more perfectly. If the community is truly gathered in love, then the mystery of the Church is vitally present: there is a sacred and living space of divine love, another pool where healing waters are gathered for all to drink. The authenticity of our mutual love and desire 506 / Review Jot Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 for reconciliation with God and with all men, and our praise of God and our prayer for ourselves and others, must be given a real and human expression. God expressed His love for us in a human way, and he does not expect us to be more "spiritual" or "interior" than He is. The deepest reason why the liturgy remains dead and unable to make present the mystery of Church is not so much a lack of faith, though this is an operative factor, as the fact that our human expressions of what the Spirit is working in and through us remain superficial, stilted, and dominated by human respect. Not only the sacraments, but the whole sacramental dimension of the Church exercises a causality by signifying something. When there is no sign at all, there is no sacrament--no bread, no Eucharist--and when the sign is not assimilated in faith but is merely something performed by rote, then the signifying power of the sacramental dimension is reduced to such a point that for most people nothing transpires at the conscious level of their being. On the other hand, when there is a living and beautiful human expression of what the Church as the primary sacrament really is, then the power of this mystery radiates to all, touching and transforming them. Christian Affection and Reconciliation In such a context, the dynamics already well perceived by psychology as necessary for human growth are caught up in a healing action of the Spirit. Love, thoughtfulness, acceptance, forgiveness, song, joy, friendship--all these become the mud and spittle rubbed on our eyes, so that when we wash, we see. The intimate union between body and soul has been so consecrated by the Incarnation that Tertullian could call the flesh "the hinge of salva-tion." For just as the water touching our body awakens our whole being and opens it to receive the action of the Spirit, so the psychological and physical reality of a true Christian community is an instrument of healing. To ignore the depth and power of true and chaste Christian affection and yet to expect the community gathered for worship to possess and confer an authentic reconciliation is like trying to baptize without water. In this atmosphere of love, we confess our sins, we praise God and pray for all men, and we hear in an intimately personal way those prophetic words that are contained in the Scriptures for all the Ch. urch for all time. The .words of the Scriptures enlighten, point out sin, encourage, and heal when they are heard with a heart that has already learned to set aside its fear and believe in the love of the Lord as He is expressing it through people gathered together. Memory and the Reception of Christ's Body And then we receive the Body of Christ. This is not only a touch with that flesh of Christ that healed so many, even,before the Resurrection and is now transformed by the fire of the Spirit; it is also an intimate, a mystical, union with all those who make up the Body of Christ. When our hearts are The Healing o[ Memories / 507 open, we receive and are reconciled in Christ to everyone in this world. Men may pray over us for the coming of the Spirit; Jesus enters into our body, and He is the source of the Spirit. This is the moment when our memories of the past blend with the passion of Jesus, and we forgive as He does; and we live, as He does, a life that is "unto God." Then memory becomes experi-ence of a healed past and a transformed future, somehow already present. Our inner being begins to know already the power of the Resurrection; the knowledge of where we come from, both as past and as God, becomes fused in a present awareness of Christ living in me. My memory becomes a living image of eternity where the name of God is uttered in awe and praise and the great deeds of God are proclaimed in the assembly of the faithful: "Yahweh, your name is forever; Yahweh, the memory of you is from gen-eration to generation!" (Ps 135: 13). A Community for Today and Tomorrow M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. M. Basil Pennington is a Cistercian monk of St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer, Massachu-setts 01562. His most recent previous article in Review ]or Religious was "Christian Zen Retreat" in the September 1972 issue, pages 710-3. On my way to the annual Cistercian Studies Conference at Kalamazoo last May, I took the opportunity to visit the True House Covenanted Com-munity at Notre Dame. It was a very wonderful and gracefilled experience and I would like to try to share a bit of it with you. What I found and experienced at True House was quite different from what 1 expected. The press, Kevin Ranaghan's book, the annual conferences create a certain image, a good image, of Notre Dame, but something quite different from what one finds when he has the privilege of stepping into the True House Community. The popular image, at least as it strikes some of us back here in the East, leads one to expect a rather large movement, one made up mostly of students, a rather enthusiastic but changing scene. I was therefore surprised to find that the True House Community is a rather small group, including many non-students, quite structured and stabilized, and, apart from the annual conference which takes over the Notre Dame Campus when the students are not there, having relatively little apparent impact on campus. But what I "found, I must say, deeply impressed me. Quality of Life First of all and most fundamentally what impresses one is the quality of life. Here are men and women of different ages and backgrounds, truly committed in a very stable way to living as full Christians. Prayer is very much in the fabric of their lives. The Lord Jesus truly lives in them, in 508 A Community for Today and Tomorrow / 509 their hearts, in their households. Their day begins with prayer together. Or even before that, it begins with a personal get-together with the Lord as they slip, one by one, into the chapel to spend a few moments or an hour or two there before the household morning Office. Grace before and after meals is not a perfunctory duty fulfilled but a time--and time is really given to it--to praise the Giver of all good things. And in this community all strive to gather in the early evening to celebrate together a daily Eucha-rist. For one who comes from a scene where he hears mostly of people try-ing to break away from structures and tradition, it is a surprise to discover this charismatic community firmly holding on to the traditions of the Church universal. Apart from the beautiful outpouring of praise, thanksgiving, and petition at certain moments, a Catholic traditionalist would be delightfully at home with the morning prayer and evening Mass offered in the com-munity. Perhaps it is because of the immense freedom they have in the Spirit (which frees them from the need to react against structures to ex-perience freedom) and the satisfactory outlets which are wisely and with good order provided within the liturgy and at the prayer meetings, that the community feels no need to throw over the established structures. But I sensed something more positive present among them. There is alive in the community a wonderful sense of belonging to th~ Church. And, I be-lieve, they have a real need and desire to experience themselves as praying with the Church, spread across the world and through the centuries. Praise the Lord! This quality of life was not only present in their prayer and worship, it was evident in their whole way of life. "See how these Christians love one another"--and the stranger, or rather fellow Christian, who suddenly appears in their midst, like myself-~was a thought that constantly echoed in me during my visit with them, as it would again later when I was priv-ileged to spend a couple of days with the saints at Ann Arbor. As one moved about on the campus there was always a special quality presevt when one encountered and greeted another from the community. Sitting around the supper table, playing volley ball, or having a sandwich together at noon, there was present in the fabric of the very ordinary human give and take a weave of genuine love and reverence for a fellow Christian. Christ was always present. Praise Him! Structures I was perhaps most surprised to see how quickly and to what extent the charismatic community had been structured. But this is a very realistic thing. Men need structures to live together in justice and love. I only hope this and all charismatic communities, as they do realistically structure them-selves, learn at least one lesson from the traditional religious communities and never allow their structures to solidify and, instead of serving life, begin to dominate it. We must ever retain, even in our needed structures, the 510 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/3 freedom of the sons and daughters of God. This is a quality that is. visibly present in the True House Community. The community is divided into households. When ! was there there was the single men's household,, the single women's, the sisters, one married household, and a few on campus. New households, married and single and for guests, were in the planning. Each household off campus lived in an ordinary house, shared meals and chores, had a common exchequer, prayed together at different times during the day, and had its doors wide open to all the other members of the community and the community's guests. To their special contentment at least one of the households had the privilege of hav-ing their Lord live in their midst in His Eucharistic presence. The households on campus consisted of perhaps four, five, or six men living in the same dorm, who gathered daily for prayer and meals. As I have already men-tioned, the whole community gathers each evening for the Eucharist. Loving Concern The members of each household realize a special responsibility toward each other, one of very special loving concern. When the household is large, as the single men's household of ten, this breaks down into sub-groups, the three or four who share the same room. Herein it seems to me the True House ~ommunity is finding one of its special apostolates, or missions in the Church, one very much needed today. A vast number of our young people today have been hurt, damaged by the home they come from, with i~s lack of self-giving love and security. There needs to be healing before these young men and women can become fully mature and free Christians. And this healing can be brought about only by love. Within the context of a true Christian community this self-giving love can be administered. To effect this healing the love has to be very personal, direct, constant, and even in some real sense intimate. This the households and their sub-groups can make possible. In such a climate of concerned love, wounds are healed, a fully free Christian emerges. Then he or she can maturely and freely choose to follow the Lord and His way in marriage or in singleness for the Lord, in the community or elsewhere within the family of the People of God. Often today when a young man or woman graduates from college he or she is not yet ready for life decisions, and yet social pressures tend to demand them of them. The community provides a context where one, free from such pressures, can continue to grow as a free person in the Lord, until he is truly ready for such a decision. I think True House in its mission of healing through love and providing a context for Christian maturation is fulfilling and exemplifying an apostolate that is desperately needed in the Church today. The Sisters in the Community True House is singularly blessed in its leadership. In Jim Byrne it has a A Community [or Today and Tomorrow / 511 truly charismatic leader, one who inspires, in a very humble and Christlike way, real confidence and loyalty. I was privileged to spend a good bit of time with him and they were gracefilled hours. He is supported by real collaborators, men and women who are really with him. The community is especially blessed with the two sisters who form one of the households. I think, perhaps without their realizing it, they have something important to say to many religious today. One thing I would note in passing. The sisters are perhaps a full generation older then most of the community (Sor-ry to mention that, Sisters!), yet there is no trace of the well-known genera-tion gap. More important the sisters are playing a very important role in the heart of the community. I do not know if I can really express it accurately, and I probably will not express it the way they would; but as one looking from the outside in and seeing the whole, I might see it better than they. I think because they do stand as members of the community who do have a special consecration to the Lord, and in their particular household in some special way live this, without in any way withdrawing from full membership and participation in the life of the community, they say some-thing, minister something, more by life than by words, to the rest of the community. And I ask myself if they are not pointing toward the way in which in the future religious, other than those called by the Lord to go apart to seek his Face in monastic solitude, will find their place and fulfill their role in the Church by becoming fully integrated, yet specially conse-crated members of local Christian communities. The sisters have struggled to find how practically and meaningfully to live their commitment to two communities, the local community of True House, and their religious com-munity- and they seem to be succeeding well. The Priest and This Type of Community No word on True House Community would be complete if it did not speak of a man who is not officially a member of the Covenanted Com-munity yet is very much a part of it. I am sure that under God the quality of life at True Housc is due in great measure to the effective presence in their midst of a truly holy priest, Father Ed O'Conner. His ministry to the community at the daily Liturgy and through the many regular hours of personal spiritual direction is made powerful by the inspiring example of what he is and by his complete openness to
Issue 11.5 of the Review for Religious, 1952. ; A. M. D.G. ' ' Review for Religious SEPTEMBER i5, 1952 Congress of Religious . The Editors Towards Continual Prayer . Pa.I DeJaegher Cases o~ Illegitimacy . Joseph F. Gallen ' "~ . Pius XII and Our Lady . JohnA. Hardon "Meaning" of A.M.D.G . Walter ~J. Ong Q, uesfions and Answers Book No÷ices VOLUME XI NUMBER 5 REVIEW FOR. RELIGIOUS VOLUME XI SEPTEMBER, 1952 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS~The Editors . 225 TOWARDS CONTINUAL PRAYER--Paul De Jaegher, S.J . 231 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . ¯ . 241 PRACTICAL AND PASTORAL C/(SES ON ILLEGITIMACY~ Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . " . 242 COMMUNION CARD FOR HOSPITALS . 248 COMPLETE TEXT OF SPONSA CHRIST1 IN ENGLISH . 248 LEGISLATION OF SPON,$A CHRI,~TI . 248 POPE PIUS XII AND OUR LADY---3ohn A. Hardon. S.J . 249 "A.M.D.G.": DEDICATION OR DIRECTIVE~Waher J. Ong, S.J. 257 TEN-YEAR INDEX--LIMITED SUPPLY . 264 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERSm 21. Moral Obligation of Voting . 265 22. Boundary of Novitiate . 269 23. On Reading Rodriguez . 269 24. Change in the Habit . 270. 25. Applying Indulgences to Souls in Purgatory . 270 26. Honoring'Bequests for Masses . . . '. . 270 27. Unrealizable Desires for Sanctification . 271 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 272 BOOK NOTICES . 274 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1952. Vol. XL No. 4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the Colleg.e Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by Sty Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matteb ,January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the a~t of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Jerome Breunig, S.J.; Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.3.; Francis N. Korth, S.3. Copyright, 1952, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota- ~ions of reasonable le.ngth; 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 writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Congress ot: Religious The Editors ~"HE first National Congress of Religious of'the United States w.as .| held at "th~ University of Notre Dame, August 9 to 12, 1952. Three members of our editorial staff attended as delegates. At the various sessions we tried to note points that would be bf special interest to our readers: and, since it was impossible for us tobe per-sonally present at ail the different sectional, meetings, we asked many friends t~ make similar n6tes. ,The present report is made up from these notes "jottings" might be a better word. .Regarding our report, let us make two observations. First, it is not intended to be a complete a&ount of the Congress. Official Proceedings of the Congress will be published soon and will give this complete accountl ' Secondly, even as an incomplete account, our re-port is not adequate; it represents merely what a comparatively tiny number of de'legates considered point.s of spedal interest. It would .help us greatly if other delegates who read this rePort would Suppl~- ¯ ment (or~ correct, if need be) this material by sending us communi-cations containing their own impressions: And it would also ,help if any r.eaders, whether delegates or not, w, ould send their observations on the points recorded her~. This "request for commtinications r~eeds emp,hasis. The Congress opened up for discussion many vital points concerning our religious life; but because of lack of time it could do,no more than start the discussion. Readers' of this Review would do a great service to the ~ellgious life in this country if they would continue this discussion. by the frank and constructive expression of theii own observations-on these ~;ital points. Purposes of Congress " The Congress was summonedby the Sacred Congre~gfition of Religious, as a mean~ of intensifying and. strengthe.ning the religious life in the United States, of givii~g religious of all institutes an op-portunity to exchange ideas and particularly to discuss the problems ~ertaining to the adjustment of the religious life to ~onditions, pie- ¯ vailing in our land without compromising the principles on which the religious life is based. We believe that the. first purpose of.the Cbngress the intensi- ' ,225 THE EDITOP~ Review f6r, Retigious lying ~nd strengtt~ening of. our own. r~eligious life--~as. easily .the central point of the meetings andthat' ~ good start was m~de towards its accomplishment.~ C~rtainly all of us were~ inspire~d with-the de'sire of becoming better religious arid of making our" institutes more.effec-tive means in the great work of the Church. As c~n'e Sisterwho helped us p~epare?these notes put it:. "Probabl~ among the fi, nest outcomes of the First National .Congress of Religio,us of the Ufiited States will be a'faller.realization'on the.part ofeach community, whether large or ~all, of iis.actual, p~iticipation and impqrtance.in i~he Mystical -Body. of ~hrist; a deeper feeling of p~rspnal love for our Holy Father' and an appreciation Of his interest in our spiritual and temporal well- .,being; an~under.standila~g of the ,eagerness,. of the members 6f the Sacred Congregation of Religiou~ to serve our need~s and tO assist us to b~come holy, saintly' religious; and finally, a cloker bond among th( religious communities'of the United States, with e~ich ~roup cor~: scious of its imp6rtance to the good of the whole 'and, ready to assist in furthering the 'apostolic endeavors of every, other institute:" ¯ The other purposeF-~-the ekchange of ideas and the consideration of nece~sary adjustment~--also received their due attention" at both the scheduled sessiofis and the informal meetings of smaller groupL The on.e flaw in the plaorfing of the Congress, if there was 0ily fl~w,. was that there were so many.papers that the.re was not sufficient time for discussion°fr0m the floi3r. Nevertheless, a fine beginning was made, and w,e hope that what was begun at Notre Dame can be car- ¯ tied on much further in' the discussi6ns in this R~view and in smaller meetings that can be arranged from time ~o time. . Organization .The Sacred Congregation of." Rhligioussent. f~ur representatives to theCongress: .The Most Reverend Atcadio LarraonL C.MIF., Secretary of the Congregation: the Very Reverend Giuseppe\Gi.am- ~pietro, S.J., the assistant to Father Larraona i~ the organization of regional "meetings of religious; the .Very Reverend Elio Gambari, S.M.M'., .whose specihl duty is-to handlethe affairs of refigious :in the United States; and the ~i~y Re;gerend Edward 'L. Heston, C.S.C:, the Secretary G~ner~l for, the Congress in the United States. ¯ The Congress was divided into two sections, for religious n~dn and religious women respective.ly. The Very-P(everend John ~J. Cavanaugh, C.S.C., who was President of the University of Notre .Dame atthe time the C6ngress was.plhnned, wasHonora.ry~Chair- 226 ~September, 1952 , (~ONGRESS OF RELI,.GIOUS manfor both groups. Executiye Chairman for Religious Men was. the "Very Reverend FranCis J.Connell, C.SS.R.; and for Religious W~men, the_Reverend Mother Mary. Gerald Barry,. O.P., the Supe-rior, General 6f the.Domlnican Sisters of Adrian; Michigan. Co- - ordinato.r of the. Congress'was the Re~'e~end Alfred F: .Mendez. C.S.C. The work done by Fathers Connell and Mendez and Mother " Mary Geriild in preparing for th~ Congress "was little shdrt of miraculous. They had only al~out three months tb make their pre-parati6ns, yet every detail, both Of the preparations and Of the'actual carrying out of the"Congre.ss,: was S~l~erbfy:planned and executed. As one small sample.migh~ l~e instanced the plans for daily Masses: there, were seven hur~dred Masses.each day; yet there was not the 'slightest -c~nfusion or difficulty in getting, iri ~he Masses. ~ ¯ Other members of the Committee for the sectlon of Rehgmus ¯Men were: theVery Rev~:end Godf.rey Diekmann, O.S.B.; the Very Reverend Philip F. Mulhern, O.P.: the,.Very Reverend'Thomas .~. Plas'smann, O.F.M.: the Ve~y Reverend Adam C. Ellis, "S.J.: the Very Reverend Basil Frison, C.M.F.; Venerable Brother Alexis Vic-.- tor, F.S~C.; Venerable Brother Ephrern O'Dwyer, C.S.C.; Vener-able Brother William, ~.F.X. O~her members of the committee .for Religious Women were: the Re~,erend .Mother M. Catherine Sullivan, D.C.: the Reverend'. Mother-M. Rose Elizabeth, C.S.C." the Reverend Mother M. li~n, C.S.J.; the Reverend 'Mother M. Joan 0t: Arc Cronin, O.S.U. the Reverend. Mot'her Mari~Helene,. S.P.: and Sister M. Madeleva.;" Spiritual Ideals In one wa.y'or anothe'r many. of the discussions at the C~ngr~ss centered on the clarification of the spiritual ideals common to reli-gious. ins~itfltes and on the .means. of¯ attaining these ideals., Particu-larly stressed was.~he fact that religious.need a deep pers'orial devo~ tion to Christ. Basic to such a devotion is the knowledge of.Christ; iand the young r~llg~ous must be.helped ~o get th~s knowledge, partly through Well-planned reading, and~mostly through prayer--for it is ~i knowledge.of the heart, and it is given by the Holy Ghost to ~hose " who humbly and perse~'erifigly seek it. ¯The fervent-reception of. Holy Communion-is a great help to.the atta!ning of this interior -knowledge and devotion. Incidentally, in. the men:s discussion 6f this tiepin, it was poin~e~, out that here, as i~ Other aspec~so,of their religious training, youri~ religious are inspired.by the goqd example ¯ 227 THE EDITOR,S " Review/:or Religigus of thei~ elders-and are proportib.nate!y harmed by thelack of such example. Several discussions also emphasized the need of a sense of per, sor~al responsibility. For. instance, one danger oK the religious life, with its many exercises in common, is .what migl~t be called "~herd-spirituality": one goes to the exercise automatically and takes.part with a sort, of detached numbness, ,as though ¯partially anesthetized. The chief wa~ to counteract this is the constant striving on the part of the individual to make the exercls~ personal. Also, some religious who lead an active aposl~olate, especially in small houses, .are fre-quently unable to have common exercises. They can lose the rell-gious spirit completely Unless through their own personal efforts they try to form a plan for making their various spiritual exercises in private. " The same idea of personal responsibility, under the formality of per_sonal initiative, was prominent in the men's discussion of religious obedience. It was pointed out,that apostolic initiative is n6t stifled by obedience, though it must often be controlled for the common good, as well as for the good of the individual. The rel, igious who always waits to be told what to do. is by no. means the model of perfect obedience, and the superior who requires this of his subjects is by no,means the perf.ect superior. , In a paper t, bat all will read With interest and profit, the Very Reverend Giles Staab, O.F.M.C~'p., reduced the moral qualifications of candida.tes to the religious life to the)four virtues of generosity, docility, prudence,~and loyalty. The generous candidate will¯have the r~quisite piety, the fight intention,' the chastity, and the zeal. The docile candidate will be obedient and thus further the Work of the i.nstitute. The prudent candidate will have good jiadgment and emotional control. And ~he candidat~ imbued with a spirit Of loya[t~t.will, be ready to subordinate his own interests to thqse of the community and will, as a natural consequence, b~e a, gobd communi@ man: a religious withsocial 'balanch, cgurtesy, and considerateness." Conte~ptative Life The .Right Reverend Abbot M. James Fox, O.C.S.O., gave' an interesting and informative talk about the contemplative life in gen-eral and the Trappists' life inparticular. He said that there is.a great hunger for thec0ntemplative life in modern America, . and he illustrated this statement.by quotin~ excerpts from man'y letters'that h'e has received from applicants to the' Trappi~ts. The Trappists,., 228 " ' v Sep~ei'hber~ 1952.- " CONGRESS OF RELIGIOUS he said, have about ~700' novices in their varigus" houses ~throu.ghmit the world';" ,approximately half:of these novices ,are, in the' United State~.'In less than ten years the" Trappist monasteries in 'this country have increased from three' to ten.," °, "'- .~, Why the attraction to "contemplative orders?.+. At one of Sisters' sessions it was suggested that yout.h are attracted to the co.n= templative life because they,feel that in this life they can
Introducción La vida social humana se sustenta en la cooperación de una forma diferente respecto a otras especies. Los científicos han indagado en la evolución de la cooperación desde distintos puntos de vista (Trivers, 1971; Dawkins, 1976; Axelrod y Hamilton, 1981; Axelrod, 1984; Caporael et al., 1989; Boyd & Richerson, 1990; Wilson & Sober, 1994; Bergstrom, 2002; Boyd et al., 2003; Gintis et al., 2003; Bowles & Gintis, 2004; Gintis et al., 2008; Boyd et al., 2010) pero ninguna de tales explicaciones dan cuenta de la complejidad de las relaciones cooperativas humanas. En este trabajo de tesis se analizan las relaciones cooperativas destacando su relación intrínseca con las relaciones de confianza. ¿Por qué cooperamos? ¿Cuál es la influencia de la confianza en la cooperación y qué papel juega la historia evolutiva en este puzle? Tomando en consideración las formas sociales adoptadas por nuestros antepasados humanos, es posible pensar en ciertos rasgos cognitivos y psicológicos específicos relevantes para entender las relaciones actuales de cooperación y, en un sentido más amplio, las relaciones sociales. El objetivo es, en definitiva, enmarcar las relaciones sociales humanas en un entorno evolutivo para explicar comportamientos sociales que existen en la actualidad. Contenido de la investigación Esta tesis trata de responder a las cuestiones planteadas anteriormente basándose primero en la relación que existe entre la evolución de la socialidad y la cognición humanas, como hipótesis de partida a contrastar en estudios posteriores. Desde esta perspectiva y, utilizando una metodología multidisciplinar procedente de disciplinas tales como la Sociología, Psicología y Antropología, se diseña un plan de investigación que trata de profundizar en mayor medida en dichos temas. El trabajo de tesis parte inicialmente de una revisión crítica sobre estudios que tratan de relacionar el comportamiento social en primates y la evolución del neocórtex –la Hipótesis del Cerebro Social de Dunbar (Dunbar, 1992; Dunbar, 1998; Dunbar & Shultz, 2007; Shultz & Dunbar, 2007; Dunbar, 2010). De dicha revisión, resulta evidente la necesidad de utilizar un enfoque más matizado para explicar la enorme complejidad de las relaciones sociales humanas. Para ello, ofrece un enorme interés el análisis de la influencia del mecanismo psicológico de la confianza. No obstante, los estudios de Dunbar, especialmente aquellos relacionados con las características propias de los grupos sociales humanos en relación a la capacidad cognitiva, son continuamente revisados a lo largo de todo este trabajo. Posteriormente se propone un marco teórico sobre los factores que influyen en la confianza (Parsons, 1970; Barber, 1983; Good, 1988; Yamagishi, 1998; Glaeser et al., 2000; Uslaner, 2002; Six, 2005; Bjørnskov, 2006; Hardin, 2006) y su posible configuración en un entorno evolutivo. Sobre esta base teórica, se diseña el posterior trabajo empírico, siempre teniendo en cuenta la hipótesis de que el ser humano tiene un comportamiento social ampliamente influenciado por un contexto de relaciones dentro de los pequeños grupos en los que ha convivido durante la mayor parte de su historia evolutiva. El marco teórico explica los elementos que conforman la confianza, la tipología y su posible configuración a lo largo de la historia evolutiva. Constituyen el substrato utilizado para llevar a término el análisis de la confianza y del comportamiento cooperativo en los siguientes trabajos empíricos. Los estudios empíricos siguen un plan basado en un diseño propio, procedente de la revisión de la literatura (Fey, 1955; Rosenberg, 1957; Wrightsman, 1964, 1974; Rotter, 1967; Survey Research Center, 1969; Christie & Geis, 1970; Johnson-George & Swap, 1982; Rempel et al., 1985; World Values Survey Association, 2009), con cuestionarios para medir el nivel de confianza general y personal en un grupo. Además se usa un juego experimental – dilema del prisionero con algunas variantes– que demuestra el comportamiento cooperativo real de los individuos. El juego se realiza en condiciones de confianza y de no confianza entre los miembros de un mismo grupo. El estudio piloto se lleva a cabo inicialmente en dos grupos diferentes. Los resultados muestran ya la influencia de las relaciones cercanas de confianza personal en la cooperación y el interés de analizar las redes de confianza (Radcliffe-Brown, 1940; Barnes, 1954; Milgram, 1967; Mitchell, 1969; Wasserman & Faust, 1994; Molina, J.L., 2001; White & Harary, 2001; Newman et al., 2003; Freeman, 2004; Eguíluz et al., 2005; Fowler & Christakis, 2010) en mayor profundidad. Los resultados de este trabajo se confirman en un estudio similar posterior con otros grupos más numerosos y más comparables entre sí. Los nuevos resultados muestran cómo la cooperación se relaciona en buena medida con un compromiso afectivo de reciprocidad que proviene de la confianza personal, como elemento adaptativo hacia una cooperación más exitosa, incluso en condiciones de anonimato y pese a la posibilidad de causar un perjuicio en el individuo a corto plazo. Además, el estudio incluye un análisis en profundidad de las redes de confianza de estos grupos para constatar la importancia que ciertas topologías de redes de confianza pueden tener en la cohesión general de un grupo. La última parte de la tesis presenta una perspectiva más antropológica con la realización de trabajo de campo en dos zonas caracterizadas por su gran diversidad étnica: el norte de Ghana y Oaxaca, en México. Estos lugares permiten estudiar cómo interaccionan los grupos y por qué mantienen sus identidades étnicas a pesar de una historia en común. Se pretende analizar si los mecanismos de la confianza personal que aparecen a nivel individual pueden trasladarse también a grupos más grandes o a sociedades. En este caso, además de la observación directa de los grupos y de la inclusión de su contexto histórico, social, económico y político, se utilizan entrevistas y redes personales de cooperación. En el trabajo de Ghana (Rattray, 1931, 1932; Syme, 1932; Tait, 1961; Hilton, 1962; Hart, 1971; Drucker-Brown, 1975, 1992; Fussy, 1979; Laari, 1987; Awedoba, 1989, 2001; Wilks, 1989; Assimeng, 1990; Kotey, 1995; Schlottner, 2000; Oppong, 2002; Tonah, 2005), se hace un recorrido por el contexto de los grupos y se explican las características de sus redes de confianza y cooperación. En este trabajo, se observa la eficacia de la diversificación étnica como medio para crear pequeños grupos más resistentes a la hora de enfrentarse a entornos difíciles. Se muestra también la adopción de formas culturales que permiten extender los mecanismos de la confianza personal en colectivos mayores. En el último trabajo se comparan los resultados anteriores con los de México (Chance, 1979; Zeithin, 1990; Campbell, 1993; Oseguera, 2004; Reina Aoyama, 2004; Barabas, 2006, 2008; Trejo Barrientos, 2006; Spores, 2008; Joyce, 2010; Nahmad Sitton, 2013), en un análisis cross-cultural para identificar posibles elementos "universales" en las redes de confianza y cooperación y también las influencias culturales. Conclusiones Mediante los anteriores trabajos se muestra que la confianza es uno de los mecanismos cognitivos y psicológicos más anclado en la historia evolutiva humana. Su origen evolutivo se observa en los resultados de esta tesis: al demostrarse la mayor influencia de la confianza personal sobre la confianza general a la hora de influir en la cooperación, la cual necesita de las relaciones cercanas y por tanto del pequeño grupo para su aparición –dadas las limitaciones cognitivas y temporales para mantener este tipo de relaciones con gran número de personas–, y su fuerte conexión con aspectos emocionales inconscientes –uno de los mecanismo más primitivos en los seres humanos. De hecho, tanto en el trabajo empírico como en el de campo, aparece la configuración de redes de confianza en torno a pequeños grupos. La confianza personal también puede extenderse a colectivos mayores. Incluso en las grandes sociedades más desarrolladas los individuos siguen creando sus pequeños grupos en todos los ámbitos de su vida. Sin embargo, en algunas sociedades, donde existen mayores dificultades de supervivencia, como las analizadas en esta tesis, se observan determinadas herramientas culturales que sirven para extender la confianza personal a un mayor número de personas: conceptos tales como grupos étnicos, clanes, linajes, familias, comunalidad, municipalidad en el caso oaxaqueño, valores internalizados, etc… son eficaces en este sentido. De este modo, la cultura provee de los mecanismos necesarios para crear fuertes lazos de cohesión basados en los elementos emocionales. La mayor cohesión y una actitud más abierta de confianza que surgen de tales herramientas culturales ayudan a enfrentarse a los entornos de forma más eficaz. Así pues, se podría predecir que a medida que los entornos resultan más difíciles, aparece una mayor diversificación de los grupos. Con la comparación de los resultados de Ghana y México, se profundiza en mayor medida en los elementos comunes en las redes de confianza y cooperación –aspectos universales–: los grupos pequeños y distintos niveles de emocionalidad implícita en los vínculos de confianza; y aquellos elementos culturales que se adecuan al contexto histórico y a la situación económica de los grupos, para crear una mayor o menor cohesión de sus miembros en función de sus necesidades. De este modo, además de identificarse en el campo diferentes indicadores para medir la confianza, también se identifican ciertas formas culturales que parecen más eficaces que otras a la hora de cohesionar los grupos, a saber, los valores y el sentimiento de identidad y pertenencia grupal, frente a la normatividad. ; Introducció La vida social humana es basa en la cooperació i la confiança d'una manera diferent de la d'altres espècies. Els científics han investigat la cooperació humana des de diferents punts de vista (Trivers, 1971; Dawkins, 1976; Axelrod y Hamilton, 1981; Axelrod, 1984; Caporael et al., 1989; Boyd & Richerson, 1990; Wilson & Sober, 1994; Bergstrom, 2002; Boyd et al., 2003; Gintis et al., 2003; Bowles & Gintis, 2004; Gintis et al., 2008; Boyd et al., 2010), però encara hi ha moltes preguntes sobre l'evolució de la cooperació sense explicació. Aquest treball de tesi analitza les relacions cooperatives emfasitzant la seva relació intrínseca amb les relacions de confiança. Per què cooperem? Quina és la influència de la confiança en la cooperació i el paper de la història evolutiva en aquest trencaclosques? Tenint en compte les formes socials adoptades pels avantpassats humans, és possible pensar en certs trets cognitius i psicològics específics que podrien tenir una importància clau per entendre les actuals relacions de cooperació i, en un sentit més ampli, les relacions socials. L'objectiu de la tesi és, en definitiva, emmarcar les relacions socials en un entorn evolutiu per explicar els comportaments socials que existeixen avui en dia. Contingut de la investigació Aquesta tesi tracta de respondre les preguntes anteriors, a partir de la relació entre l'evolució de la sociabilitat i la cognició humà, com hipòtesi inicial per contrastar els estudis posteriors. Des d'aquesta perspectiva i utilitzant una metodologia multidisciplinària de la Psicologia, Antropologia i Sociologia, es va dissenyar un pla de recerca que pretén aprofundir en aquest plantejament. Amb aquest objectiu en ment, el treball de tesi es basa inicialment en una revisió crítica d'estudis anteriors que intenten relacionar el comportament social dels primats i l'evolució del neocórtex –la Hipòtesi del Cervell Social de Dunbar (Dunbar, 1992; Dunbar, 1998; Dunbar & Shultz, 2007; Shultz & Dunbar, 2007; Dunbar, 2010). Aquesta revisió mostra clarament la necessitat d'un enfocament més matisat per explicar aquesta relació a causa de l'enorme complexitat de les relacions socials humanes. Per això, l'estudi de la influència del mecanisme psicològic de la confiança ofereix un interès enorme. No obstant això, els estudis de Dunbar, especialment aquells relacionats amb les característiques dels grups socials humans en relació amb la seva capacitat cognitiva, sóntinguts en compte al llarg de tot aquest treball. Després d'aquesta revisió es proposa un marc teòric sobre els factors que influeixen en la confiança (Parsons, 1970; Barber, 1983; Good, 1988; Yamagishi, 1998; Glaeser et al., 2000; Uslaner, 2002; Six, 2005; Bjørnskov, 2006; Hardin, 2006) i la seva possible configuració en un entorn evolutiu. En base a aquest marc teòric, es dissenyen els treballs empírics posteriors, sempre tenint en compte la hipòtesi que l'ésser humà té un comportament social àmpliament influenciat per un context de relacions dintre de petits grups. Aquest és el context social en que han viscut els humans durant la major part de la seva història evolutiva. El marc teòric explica els elements que conformen la confiança, la tipologia i la seva possible configuració al llarg de la història evolutiva. Constitueix el substrat utilitzat per dur a terme l'anàlisi de la confiança i del comportament cooperatiu en els següents treballs empírics. Aquests estudis empírics segueixen un pla basat en un disseny propi, a partir de la revisió de la literatura (Fey, 1955; Rosenberg, 1957; Wrightsman, 1964, 1974; Rotter, 1967; Survey Research Center, 1969; Christie & Geis, 1970; Johnson- George & Swap, 1982; Rempel et al., 1985; World Values Survey Association, 2009), amb qüestionaris per mesurar el nivell de confiança personal i general en un grup. També s'utilitza un joc experimental –el dilema del presoner amb algunes variacions– que demostra el comportament cooperatiu efectiu dels individus. El joc es realitza en condicions de confiança i sense confiança entre els membres d'un mateix grup. L'estudi pilot inicial es realitza en dos grups diferents. Els resultats ja mostren la influència de les relacions estretes de confiança personal en la cooperació i l'interès de anàlisi de xarxes de confiança (Radcliffe-Brown, 1940; Barnes, 1954; Milgram, 1967; Mitchell, 1969; Wasserman & Faust, 1994; Molina, J.L., 2001; White & Harary, 2001; Newman et al., 2003; Freeman, 2004; Eguíluz et al., 2005; Fowler & Christakis, 2010) en major profunditat. Els resultats d'aquest treball es confirmen en un similar estudi posterior amb altres grups més nombrosos i més comparables entre si. Els nous resultats mostren com la cooperació s'incrementa en gran mesura si es dóna un compromís afectiu inconscient de reciprocitat que ve de la confiança personal, com un element adaptatiu cap a una cooperació més efectiva i recíproca, fins i tot en condicions d'anonimat i malgrat la possibilitat de causar un prejudici en el curt termini. A més, l'estudi inclou una anàlisi en profunditat de les xarxes de confiança d'aquests grups per determinar la importància que poden tenir certes topologies de xarxes de confiança en la cohesió general d'un grup. En la darrera part de la tesi, s'utilitza una perspectiva més antropològica amb la realització de treballs de camp en dues àrees que es caracteritzen per la seva gran diversitat ètnica: nord de Ghana i Oaxaca, a Mèxic. Aquests llocs permeten estudiar com interactuen els grups i per què es mantenen les seves identitats ètniques malgrat una història i un territori en comú. Es pretén examinar també si els mecanismes de la confiança personal, que funcionen clarament a nivell individual, poden trobar-se també en grups grans o societats de gran escala. En aquest cas, a més de l'observació directa dels grups i la inclusió del seu context històric, social, econòmic i polític, s'utilitzen entrevistes i xarxes personals de cooperació. En el treball de Ghana (Rattray, 1931, 1932;) Syme, 1932; Tait, 1961; Hilton, 1962; Hart, 1971; Drucker-Brown, 1975, 1992; Primmirat, 1979; Laari, 1987; Awedoba, 1989, 2001; Wilks, 1989; Assimeng, 1990; Kotey, 1995; Schlottner, 2000; Oppong, 2002; Tonah, 2005), es mostra el context dels grups i s'explica les característiques de les seves xarxes de confiança i cooperació. En aquest estudi es posa de manifest l''eficàcia del fenomen de la diversificació ètnic com un mitjà per crear petits grups més resistents quan s'enfronten amb entorns difícils. També s'analitza l'adopció de formes culturals que permeten ampliar el mecanisme de la confiança personal a grups més grans. En l'últim treball de la tesi es comparen els anteriors resultats de Ghana amb els de Mèxic (Chance, 1979; Zeithin, 1990; Campbell, 1993; Oseguera, 2004; Reina Aoyama, 2004; Webmoney, 2006, 2008; Trejo Barrientos, 2006; Espores, 2008; Joyce, 2010; Nahmad Sitton, 2013), en una anàlisi intercultural per identificar possibles elements "universals" a les xarxes de confiança i cooperació i així com les influències culturals que modulen aquestes predisposicions humanes en cada cas. Conclusions Els diversos treballs en conjunt mostren que la confiança és un mecanisme cognitiu i psicològic ancorat en la història evolutiva humana, que ha jugat un paper important en l'evolució de la cooperació que caracteritza les societats humanes. El seu origen evolutiu es desprèn dels resultats d'aquesta tesi: es demostra que la confiança personal té més influència que la confiança general en la cooperació, que la confiança necessita relacions properes i, per tant, del petit grup per la seva aparició – tenint en compte les limitacions cognitives per mantenir aquestes relacions amb un gran nombre de persones– i la seva estreta connexió amb aspectes emocionals inconscients – un dels mecanismes més primitiu en humans. De fet, la configuració de les xarxes de confiança en petits grups apareixen tant als treballs empírics com als treballs de camp,. La confiança personal també es pot ampliar a col·lectius més grans. Fins i tot a les societats més desenvolupades les persones continuen creant els grups reduïts en tots els àmbits de la seva vida. No obstant això, en algunes societats, on hi ha importants dificultats de supervivència, com les analitzades en aquesta tesi, hi ha certes eines culturals que serveixen per ampliar la confiança personal a un major nombre de persones: conceptes com grups ètnics, clans, llinatges, famílies, coincidència, "comunalidad" i municipi en cas d'Oaxaca, valors interioritzats, etc. són eficaços en aquest sentit. Així, la cultura proporciona els mecanismes necessaris per a crear uns vincles forts de cohesió basats en elements emocionals. Una major cohesió i una actitud més oberta de confiança derivada de tals eines culturals ajuden a enfrontar-se als ambients més eficaçment. Així, es podria predir que quan els entorns són més difícils, es mostrarà una major diversificació dels grups. Amb la comparació dels resultats de Ghana i Mèxic, s'aprofundeix en major mesura en els elements comuns en les xarxes de confiança i cooperació –aspectes universals–: petits grups i diferents nivells d'emocionalitat implícita en els vincles de confiança; i elements culturals que s'adeqüin al context històric i la situació econòmica dels grups, per crear una més o menys cohesió dels seus integrants segons les seves necessitats. Així, a més d'identificar en el camp diferents indicadors i eines per mesurar la confiança, són també identificades certes formes culturals que semblen més eficaces que altres quan es tracta d'unir els grups, és a dir, els valors i el sentit d'identitat i grup de pertinença, davant les normes i l'autoritat. ; Introduction Human social life is sustained by cooperation in a different way with respect to other species. Scientists have investigated human cooperation from different points of view (Trivers, 1971; Dawkins, 1976; Axelrod y Hamilton, 1981; Axelrod, 1984; Caporael et al., 1989; Boyd & Richerson, 1990; Wilson & Sober, 1994; Bergstrom, 2002; Boyd et al., 2003; Gintis et al., 2003; Bowles & Gintis, 2004; Gintis et al., 2008; Boyd et al., 2010) but many questions about the evolution of cooperation remain open. In this dissertation the cooperative relationships are analyzed emphasizing its intrinsic link with trust relationships. Why do we cooperate? What is the influence of trust on cooperation and which role does human evolutionary history play in this puzzle? Considering the social forms our ancestors lived by, it is possible to think in certain cognitive and psychological traits that might have a key importance in order to understand the relationships of cooperation and, in a wider sense, the social relationships it made possible. The goal is, in short, framing social relationships in an evolutionary framework in order to explain the social behaviors of nowadays. Content of research This work attempts to answer these questions firstly on the basis of the relation between the evolution of human sociality and cognition, as a hypothesis to be tested in the following studies. From this perspective and using a multidisciplinary methodology including Sociology, Psychology and Anthropology, a research plan was designed in order to further examine these topics. This dissertation starts with a critical review of some previous studies that relate the social behavior in primates to the evolution of the neocortex –Dunbar's Social Brain Hypothesis (Dunbar, 1992; Dunbar, 1998; Dunbar & Shultz, 2007; Shultz & Dunbar, 2007; Dunbar, 2010). This review shows the need for a more nuanced approach in order to explain this dependence because of the enormous complexity of human social relationships. To achieve this goal, the analysis of the psychological mechanism of trust offers a huge interest. However, Dunbar's studies, especially those that relate human social groups to cognitive ability, are continuously in the background throughout all this work. Next, a theoretical framework is introduced to characterize trust and the factors that influence it (Parsons, 1970; Barber, 1983; Good, 1988; Yamagishi, 1998; Glaeser et al., 2000; Uslaner, 2002; Six, 2005; Bjørnskov, 2006; Hardin, 2006), as well as their possible configuration in an evolutionary environment. On the basis of this theoretical framework the subsequent empirical work is designed, always keeping in mind the assumption that humans have a social behavior widely influenced by a context of relationships within small groups. They are the social configuration humans lived most of their evolutionary history. In the theoretical framework the elements that make up trust, its typology and its possible configuration in the evolutionary history are explained. This work is the substrate used to groundthe analysis of trust and cooperative behavior carried out in the following empirical works. These empirical studies follow an original plan, grounded in a literature review (Fey, 1955; Rosenberg, 1957; Wrightsman, 1964, 1974; Rotter, 1967; Survey Research Center, 1969; Christie & Geis, 1970; Johnson-George & Swap, 1982; Rempel et al., 1985; World Values Survey Association, 2009), which involves the development of new questionnaires to measure the level of general and personal trust in a group. In addition, an experimental game –a prisoner's dilemma with some variants– is included in order to show the effective cooperative behavior of participants. The game is played in conditions of trust and non-trust among the members of the group. The pilot study is initially conducted in two different groups. The results already show the influence of close relationships of personal trust in cooperation and the interest of analyze trust networks (Radcliffe-Brown, 1940; Barnes, 1954; Milgram, 1967; Mitchell, 1969; Wasserman & Faust, 1994; Molina, J.L., 2001; White & Harary, 2001; Newman et al., 2003; Freeman, 2004; Eguíluz et al., 2005; Fowler & Christakis, 2010) more deeply. The results of this work are confirmed in a subsequent similar study with other more numerous and more comparable groups. The new results show how cooperation relates largely to an affective commitment of reciprocity that comes from personal trust, as adaptive element towards a more successful cooperation, even in conditions of anonymity, and despite the possibility of causing a cost in individuals in the short term. In addition, the study includes an analysis in depth of these groups' trust networks to analyze the importance that certain topologies of trust networks can have on the general cohesion of a group. The last part of the dissertation shows a more anthropological perspective with the completion of fieldwork in two areas characterized by a great ethnic diversity: Northern Ghana and Oaxaca, in Mexico. These locations allow study how groups interact and why they keep their ethnic identities despite a history and a territory in common. To examine whether the personal trust mechanisms present at an individual level can be also extended to larger groups or societies is aimed. In this case, in addition to the direct observation of groups and the inclusion of its historical, social, economic and political context, interviews and personal networks of cooperation are used. The work of Ghana (Rattray, 1931, 1932) Syme, 1932; Tait, 1961; Hilton, 1962; Hart, 1971; Drucker-Brown, 1975, 1992; Primmirat, 1979; Laari, 1987; Awedoba, 1989, 2001; Wilks, 1989; Assimeng, 1990; Kotey, 1995; Schlottner, 2000; Oppong, 2002; Tonah, 2005) shows the context of groups and the features of their trust networks of trust and cooperation are explained . In this work, the effectiveness of ethnic diversification as a means to create small groups more resilient when face with difficult environments is shown. The adoption of cultural forms that allow extend personal trust in larger collectives is also presented. The last work compares the Ghana results with those of Mexico (Chance, 1979; Zeithin, 1990; Campbell, 1993; Oseguera, 2004; Queen Aoyama, 2004; Barabas, 2006, 2008; Trejo Barrientos, 2006; Spores, 2008; Joyce, 2010; Nahmad Sitton, 2013), in a cross-cultural analysis to identify possible "universal" elements in trust and cooperation networks, and also cultural influences. Conclusions The previous works show that trust is a cognitive and psychological mechanism anchored in human evolutionary history. Their evolutionary origin is supported by the results of this dissertation: to demonstrate the higher influence of personal trust than general trust in fostering cooperation. Close relationships are needed for personal trust and they require small groups for its emergence –given the cognitive and temporal constraints required in order to keep such relationships with a larger number of people. Close relationships also involve an emotional dimension –a most primitive mechanism in humans. In fact, small group dynamics was found both in experimental games and in fieldwork. Personal trust also plays a role in large scale societies, where individuals continue to create their small groups in all areas of their life. However, in those societies where survival is more difficult and resources scarce certain cultural tools (such as values or norms) appear whose function is to extend personal trust to a greater number of people: groups such as ethnic groups, clans, lineages, families, commonalities, municipalities (as in the Oaxaca case). Thus, culture provides the necessary mechanisms to create strong bonds of cohesion based on emotional elements beyond the small group. Greater cohesion and a more open attitude of trust arising from such cultural tools help at time to face environments more efficiently. Thus, it could be predicted that more difficult environments show a greater group diversification. In addition, the comparison of Ghana and Mexico results allows a deeper analysis of the common elements of trust and cooperation networks -their universal aspects-: small groups and different levels of emotionality implied in the bonds of trust; and cultural elements that are suited to the historical context and the economic situation of groups, to create a more or less cohesion of its members according to their needs. Thus, in addition to identify in the field several indicators to measure trust, more effective cultural forms to foster cooperation is also identified: the values and the sense of identity of group membership, instead of formal regulations and authority.
[spa] La vida social humana se sustenta en la cooperación de una forma diferente respecto a otras especies. Los científicos han indagado en la evolución de la cooperación desde distintos puntos de vista (Trivers, 1971; Dawkins, 1976; Axelrod y Hamilton, 1981; Axelrod, 1984; Caporael et al., 1989; Boyd & Richerson, 1990; Wilson & Sober, 1994; Bergstrom, 2002; Boyd et al., 2003; Gintis et al., 2003; Bowles & Gintis, 2004; Gintis et al., 2008; Boyd et al., 2010) pero ninguna de tales explicaciones dan cuenta de la complejidad de las relaciones cooperativas humanas. En este trabajo de tesis se analizan las relaciones cooperativas destacando su relación intrínseca con las relaciones de confianza. ¿Por qué cooperamos? ¿Cuál es la influencia de la confianza en la cooperación y qué papel juega la historia evolutiva en este puzle? Tomando en consideración las formas sociales adoptadas por nuestros antepasados humanos, es posible pensar en ciertos rasgos cognitivos y psicológicos específicos relevantes para entender las relaciones actuales de cooperación y, en un sentido más amplio, las relaciones sociales. El objetivo es, en definitiva, enmarcar las relaciones sociales humanas en un entorno evolutivo para explicar comportamientos sociales que existen en la actualidad. Contenido de la investigación Esta tesis trata de responder a las cuestiones planteadas anteriormente basándose primero en la relación que existe entre la evolución de la socialidad y la cognición humanas, como hipótesis de partida a contrastar en estudios posteriores. Desde esta perspectiva y, utilizando una metodología multidisciplinar procedente de disciplinas tales como la Sociología, Psicología y Antropología, se diseña un plan de investigación que trata de profundizar en mayor medida en dichos temas. El trabajo de tesis parte inicialmente de una revisión crítica sobre estudios que tratan de relacionar el comportamiento social en primates y la evolución del neocórtex –la Hipótesis del Cerebro Social de Dunbar (Dunbar, 1992; Dunbar, 1998; Dunbar & Shultz, 2007; Shultz & Dunbar, 2007; Dunbar, 2010). De dicha revisión, resulta evidente la necesidad de utilizar un enfoque más matizado para explicar la enorme complejidad de las relaciones sociales humanas. Para ello, ofrece un enorme interés el análisis de la influencia del mecanismo psicológico de la confianza. No obstante, los estudios de Dunbar, especialmente aquellos relacionados con las características propias de los grupos sociales humanos en relación a la capacidad cognitiva, son continuamente revisados a lo largo de todo este trabajo. Posteriormente se propone un marco teórico sobre los factores que influyen en la confianza (Parsons, 1970; Barber, 1983; Good, 1988; Yamagishi, 1998; Glaeser et al., 2000; Uslaner, 2002; Six, 2005; Bjørnskov, 2006; Hardin, 2006) y su posible configuración en un entorno evolutivo. Sobre esta base teórica, se diseña el posterior trabajo empírico, siempre teniendo en cuenta la hipótesis de que el ser humano tiene un comportamiento social ampliamente influenciado por un contexto de relaciones dentro de los pequeños grupos en los que ha convivido durante la mayor parte de su historia evolutiva. El marco teórico explica los elementos que conforman la confianza, la tipología y su posible configuración a lo largo de la historia evolutiva. Constituyen el substrato utilizado para llevar a término el análisis de la confianza y del comportamiento cooperativo en los siguientes trabajos empíricos. Los estudios empíricos siguen un plan basado en un diseño propio, procedente de la revisión de la literatura (Fey, 1955; Rosenberg, 1957; Wrightsman, 1964, 1974; Rotter, 1967; Survey Research Center, 1969; Christie & Geis, 1970; Johnson-George & Swap, 1982; Rempel et al., 1985; World Values Survey Association, 2009), con cuestionarios para medir el nivel de confianza general y personal en un grupo. Además se usa un juego experimental – dilema del prisionero con algunas variantes– que demuestra el comportamiento cooperativo real de los individuos. El juego se realiza en condiciones de confianza y de no confianza entre los miembros de un mismo grupo. El estudio piloto se lleva a cabo inicialmente en dos grupos diferentes. Los resultados muestran ya la influencia de las relaciones cercanas de confianza personal en la cooperación y el interés de analizar las redes de confianza (Radcliffe-Brown, 1940; Barnes, 1954; Milgram, 1967; Mitchell, 1969; Wasserman & Faust, 1994; Molina, J.L., 2001; White & Harary, 2001; Newman et al., 2003; Freeman, 2004; Eguíluz et al., 2005; Fowler & Christakis, 2010) en mayor profundidad. Los resultados de este trabajo se confirman en un estudio similar posterior con otros grupos más numerosos y más comparables entre sí. Los nuevos resultados muestran cómo la cooperación se relaciona en buena medida con un compromiso afectivo de reciprocidad que proviene de la confianza personal, como elemento adaptativo hacia una cooperación más exitosa, incluso en condiciones de anonimato y pese a la posibilidad de causar un perjuicio en el individuo a corto plazo. Además, el estudio incluye un análisis en profundidad de las redes de confianza de estos grupos para constatar la importancia que ciertas topologías de redes de confianza pueden tener en la cohesión general de un grupo. La última parte de la tesis presenta una perspectiva más antropológica con la realización de trabajo de campo en dos zonas caracterizadas por su gran diversidad étnica: el norte de Ghana y Oaxaca, en México. Estos lugares permiten estudiar cómo interaccionan los grupos y por qué mantienen sus identidades étnicas a pesar de una historia en común. Se pretende analizar si los mecanismos de la confianza personal que aparecen a nivel individual pueden trasladarse también a grupos más grandes o a sociedades. En este caso, además de la observación directa de los grupos y de la inclusión de su contexto histórico, social, económico y político, se utilizan entrevistas y redes personales de cooperación. En el trabajo de Ghana (Rattray, 1931, 1932; Syme, 1932; Tait, 1961; Hilton, 1962; Hart, 1971; Drucker-Brown, 1975, 1992; Fussy, 1979; Laari, 1987; Awedoba, 1989, 2001; Wilks, 1989; Assimeng, 1990; Kotey, 1995; Schlottner, 2000; Oppong, 2002; Tonah, 2005), se hace un recorrido por el contexto de los grupos y se explican las características de sus redes de confianza y cooperación. En este trabajo, se observa la eficacia de la diversificación étnica como medio para crear pequeños grupos más resistentes a la hora de enfrentarse a entornos difíciles. Se muestra también la adopción de formas culturales que permiten extender los mecanismos de la confianza personal en colectivos mayores. En el último trabajo se comparan los resultados anteriores con los de México (Chance, 1979; Zeithin, 1990; Campbell, 1993; Oseguera, 2004; Reina Aoyama, 2004; Barabas, 2006, 2008; Trejo Barrientos, 2006; Spores, 2008; Joyce, 2010; Nahmad Sitton, 2013), en un análisis cross-cultural para identificar posibles elementos "universales" en las redes de confianza y cooperación y también las influencias culturales. Conclusiones Mediante los anteriores trabajos se muestra que la confianza es uno de los mecanismos cognitivos y psicológicos más anclado en la historia evolutiva humana. Su origen evolutivo se observa en los resultados de esta tesis: al demostrarse la mayor influencia de la confianza personal sobre la confianza general a la hora de influir en la cooperación, la cual necesita de las relaciones cercanas y por tanto del pequeño grupo para su aparición –dadas las limitaciones cognitivas y temporales para mantener este tipo de relaciones con gran número de personas–, y su fuerte conexión con aspectos emocionales inconscientes –uno de los mecanismo más primitivos en los seres humanos. De hecho, tanto en el trabajo empírico como en el de campo, aparece la configuración de redes de confianza en torno a pequeños grupos. La confianza personal también puede extenderse a colectivos mayores. Incluso en las grandes sociedades más desarrolladas los individuos siguen creando sus pequeños grupos en todos los ámbitos de su vida. Sin embargo, en algunas sociedades, donde existen mayores dificultades de supervivencia, como las analizadas en esta tesis, se observan determinadas herramientas culturales que sirven para extender la confianza personal a un mayor número de personas: conceptos tales como grupos étnicos, clanes, linajes, familias, comunalidad, municipalidad en el caso oaxaqueño, valores internalizados, etc… son eficaces en este sentido. De este modo, la cultura provee de los mecanismos necesarios para crear fuertes lazos de cohesión basados en los elementos emocionales. La mayor cohesión y una actitud más abierta de confianza que surgen de tales herramientas culturales ayudan a enfrentarse a los entornos de forma más eficaz. Así pues, se podría predecir que a medida que los entornos resultan más difíciles, aparece una mayor diversificación de los grupos. Con la comparación de los resultados de Ghana y México, se profundiza en mayor medida en los elementos comunes en las redes de confianza y cooperación –aspectos universales–: los grupos pequeños y distintos niveles de emocionalidad implícita en los vínculos de confianza; y aquellos elementos culturales que se adecuan al contexto histórico y a la situación económica de los grupos, para crear una mayor o menor cohesión de sus miembros en función de sus necesidades. De este modo, además de identificarse en el campo diferentes indicadores para medir la confianza, también se identifican ciertas formas culturales que parecen más eficaces que otras a la hora de cohesionar los grupos, a saber, los valores y el sentimiento de identidad y pertenencia grupal, frente a la normatividad. ; [cat] La vida social humana es basa en la cooperació i la confiança d'una manera diferent de la d'altres espècies. Els científics han investigat la cooperació humana des de diferents punts de vista (Trivers, 1971; Dawkins, 1976; Axelrod y Hamilton, 1981; Axelrod, 1984; Caporael et al., 1989; Boyd & Richerson, 1990; Wilson & Sober, 1994; Bergstrom, 2002; Boyd et al., 2003; Gintis et al., 2003; Bowles & Gintis, 2004; Gintis et al., 2008; Boyd et al., 2010), però encara hi ha moltes preguntes sobre l'evolució de la cooperació sense explicació. Aquest treball de tesi analitza les relacions cooperatives emfasitzant la seva relació intrínseca amb les relacions de confiança. Per què cooperem? Quina és la influència de la confiança en la cooperació i el paper de la història evolutiva en aquest trencaclosques? Tenint en compte les formes socials adoptades pels avantpassats humans, és possible pensar en certs trets cognitius i psicològics específics que podrien tenir una importància clau per entendre les actuals relacions de cooperació i, en un sentit més ampli, les relacions socials. L'objectiu de la tesi és, en definitiva, emmarcar les relacions socials en un entorn evolutiu per explicar els comportaments socials que existeixen avui en dia. Contingut de la investigació Aquesta tesi tracta de respondre les preguntes anteriors, a partir de la relació entre l'evolució de la sociabilitat i la cognició humà, com hipòtesi inicial per contrastar els estudis posteriors. Des d'aquesta perspectiva i utilitzant una metodologia multidisciplinària de la Psicologia, Antropologia i Sociologia, es va dissenyar un pla de recerca que pretén aprofundir en aquest plantejament. Amb aquest objectiu en ment, el treball de tesi es basa inicialment en una revisió crítica d'estudis anteriors que intenten relacionar el comportament social dels primats i l'evolució del neocórtex –la Hipòtesi del Cervell Social de Dunbar (Dunbar, 1992; Dunbar, 1998; Dunbar & Shultz, 2007; Shultz & Dunbar, 2007; Dunbar, 2010). Aquesta revisió mostra clarament la necessitat d'un enfocament més matisat per explicar aquesta relació a causa de l'enorme complexitat de les relacions socials humanes. Per això, l'estudi de la influència del mecanisme psicològic de la confiança ofereix un interès enorme. No obstant això, els estudis de Dunbar, especialment aquells relacionats amb les característiques dels grups socials humans en relació amb la seva capacitat cognitiva, sóntinguts en compte al llarg de tot aquest treball. Després d'aquesta revisió es proposa un marc teòric sobre els factors que influeixen en la confiança (Parsons, 1970; Barber, 1983; Good, 1988; Yamagishi, 1998; Glaeser et al., 2000; Uslaner, 2002; Six, 2005; Bjørnskov, 2006; Hardin, 2006) i la seva possible configuració en un entorn evolutiu. En base a aquest marc teòric, es dissenyen els treballs empírics posteriors, sempre tenint en compte la hipòtesi que l'ésser humà té un comportament social àmpliament influenciat per un context de relacions dintre de petits grups. Aquest és el context social en que han viscut els humans durant la major part de la seva història evolutiva. El marc teòric explica els elements que conformen la confiança, la tipologia i la seva possible configuració al llarg de la història evolutiva. Constitueix el substrat utilitzat per dur a terme l'anàlisi de la confiança i del comportament cooperatiu en els següents treballs empírics. Aquests estudis empírics segueixen un pla basat en un disseny propi, a partir de la revisió de la literatura (Fey, 1955; Rosenberg, 1957; Wrightsman, 1964, 1974; Rotter, 1967; Survey Research Center, 1969; Christie & Geis, 1970; Johnson- George & Swap, 1982; Rempel et al., 1985; World Values Survey Association, 2009), amb qüestionaris per mesurar el nivell de confiança personal i general en un grup. També s'utilitza un joc experimental –el dilema del presoner amb algunes variacions– que demostra el comportament cooperatiu efectiu dels individus. El joc es realitza en condicions de confiança i sense confiança entre els membres d'un mateix grup. L'estudi pilot inicial es realitza en dos grups diferents. Els resultats ja mostren la influència de les relacions estretes de confiança personal en la cooperació i l'interès de anàlisi de xarxes de confiança (Radcliffe-Brown, 1940; Barnes, 1954; Milgram, 1967; Mitchell, 1969; Wasserman & Faust, 1994; Molina, J.L., 2001; White & Harary, 2001; Newman et al., 2003; Freeman, 2004; Eguíluz et al., 2005; Fowler & Christakis, 2010) en major profunditat. Els resultats d'aquest treball es confirmen en un similar estudi posterior amb altres grups més nombrosos i més comparables entre si. Els nous resultats mostren com la cooperació s'incrementa en gran mesura si es dóna un compromís afectiu inconscient de reciprocitat que ve de la confiança personal, com un element adaptatiu cap a una cooperació més efectiva i recíproca, fins i tot en condicions d'anonimat i malgrat la possibilitat de causar un prejudici en el curt termini. A més, l'estudi inclou una anàlisi en profunditat de les xarxes de confiança d'aquests grups per determinar la importància que poden tenir certes topologies de xarxes de confiança en la cohesió general d'un grup. En la darrera part de la tesi, s'utilitza una perspectiva més antropològica amb la realització de treballs de camp en dues àrees que es caracteritzen per la seva gran diversitat ètnica: nord de Ghana i Oaxaca, a Mèxic. Aquests llocs permeten estudiar com interactuen els grups i per què es mantenen les seves identitats ètniques malgrat una història i un territori en comú. Es pretén examinar també si els mecanismes de la confiança personal, que funcionen clarament a nivell individual, poden trobar-se també en grups grans o societats de gran escala. En aquest cas, a més de l'observació directa dels grups i la inclusió del seu context històric, social, econòmic i polític, s'utilitzen entrevistes i xarxes personals de cooperació. En el treball de Ghana (Rattray, 1931, 1932;) Syme, 1932; Tait, 1961; Hilton, 1962; Hart, 1971; Drucker-Brown, 1975, 1992; Primmirat, 1979; Laari, 1987; Awedoba, 1989, 2001; Wilks, 1989; Assimeng, 1990; Kotey, 1995; Schlottner, 2000; Oppong, 2002; Tonah, 2005), es mostra el context dels grups i s'explica les característiques de les seves xarxes de confiança i cooperació. En aquest estudi es posa de manifest l''eficàcia del fenomen de la diversificació ètnic com un mitjà per crear petits grups més resistents quan s'enfronten amb entorns difícils. També s'analitza l'adopció de formes culturals que permeten ampliar el mecanisme de la confiança personal a grups més grans. En l'últim treball de la tesi es comparen els anteriors resultats de Ghana amb els de Mèxic (Chance, 1979; Zeithin, 1990; Campbell, 1993; Oseguera, 2004; Reina Aoyama, 2004; Webmoney, 2006, 2008; Trejo Barrientos, 2006; Espores, 2008; Joyce, 2010; Nahmad Sitton, 2013), en una anàlisi intercultural per identificar possibles elements "universals" a les xarxes de confiança i cooperació i així com les influències culturals que modulen aquestes predisposicions humanes en cada cas. Conclusions Els diversos treballs en conjunt mostren que la confiança és un mecanisme cognitiu i psicològic ancorat en la història evolutiva humana, que ha jugat un paper important en l'evolució de la cooperació que caracteritza les societats humanes. El seu origen evolutiu es desprèn dels resultats d'aquesta tesi: es demostra que la confiança personal té més influència que la confiança general en la cooperació, que la confiança necessita relacions properes i, per tant, del petit grup per la seva aparició – tenint en compte les limitacions cognitives per mantenir aquestes relacions amb un gran nombre de persones– i la seva estreta connexió amb aspectes emocionals inconscients – un dels mecanismes més primitiu en humans. De fet, la configuració de les xarxes de confiança en petits grups apareixen tant als treballs empírics com als treballs de camp,. La confiança personal també es pot ampliar a col·lectius més grans. Fins i tot a les societats més desenvolupades les persones continuen creant els grups reduïts en tots els àmbits de la seva vida. No obstant això, en algunes societats, on hi ha importants dificultats de supervivència, com les analitzades en aquesta tesi, hi ha certes eines culturals que serveixen per ampliar la confiança personal a un major nombre de persones: conceptes com grups ètnics, clans, llinatges, famílies, coincidència, "comunalidad" i municipi en cas d'Oaxaca, valors interioritzats, etc. són eficaços en aquest sentit. Així, la cultura proporciona els mecanismes necessaris per a crear uns vincles forts de cohesió basats en elements emocionals. Una major cohesió i una actitud més oberta de confiança derivada de tals eines culturals ajuden a enfrontar-se als ambients més eficaçment. Així, es podria predir que quan els entorns són més difícils, es mostrarà una major diversificació dels grups. Amb la comparació dels resultats de Ghana i Mèxic, s'aprofundeix en major mesura en els elements comuns en les xarxes de confiança i cooperació –aspectes universals–: petits grups i diferents nivells d'emocionalitat implícita en els vincles de confiança; i elements culturals que s'adeqüin al context històric i la situació econòmica dels grups, per crear una més o menys cohesió dels seus integrants segons les seves necessitats. Així, a més d'identificar en el camp diferents indicadors i eines per mesurar la confiança, són també identificades certes formes culturals que semblen més eficaces que altres quan es tracta d'unir els grups, és a dir, els valors i el sentit d'identitat i grup de pertinença, davant les normes i l'autoritat. ; [eng] Human social life is sustained by cooperation in a different way with respect to other species. Scientists have investigated human cooperation from different points of view (Trivers, 1971; Dawkins, 1976; Axelrod y Hamilton, 1981; Axelrod, 1984; Caporael et al., 1989; Boyd & Richerson, 1990; Wilson & Sober, 1994; Bergstrom, 2002; Boyd et al., 2003; Gintis et al., 2003; Bowles & Gintis, 2004; Gintis et al., 2008; Boyd et al., 2010) but many questions about the evolution of cooperation remain open. In this dissertation the cooperative relationships are analyzed emphasizing its intrinsic link with trust relationships. Why do we cooperate? What is the influence of trust on cooperation and which role does human evolutionary history play in this puzzle? Considering the social forms our ancestors lived by, it is possible to think in certain cognitive and psychological traits that might have a key importance in order to understand the relationships of cooperation and, in a wider sense, the social relationships it made possible. The goal is, in short, framing social relationships in an evolutionary framework in order to explain the social behaviors of nowadays. Content of research This work attempts to answer these questions firstly on the basis of the relation between the evolution of human sociality and cognition, as a hypothesis to be tested in the following studies. From this perspective and using a multidisciplinary methodology including Sociology, Psychology and Anthropology, a research plan was designed in order to further examine these topics. This dissertation starts with a critical review of some previous studies that relate the social behavior in primates to the evolution of the neocortex –Dunbar's Social Brain Hypothesis (Dunbar, 1992; Dunbar, 1998; Dunbar & Shultz, 2007; Shultz & Dunbar, 2007; Dunbar, 2010). This review shows the need for a more nuanced approach in order to explain this dependence because of the enormous complexity of human social relationships. To achieve this goal, the analysis of the psychological mechanism of trust offers a huge interest. However, Dunbar's studies, especially those that relate human social groups to cognitive ability, are continuously in the background throughout all this work. Next, a theoretical framework is introduced to characterize trust and the factors that influence it (Parsons, 1970; Barber, 1983; Good, 1988; Yamagishi, 1998; Glaeser et al., 2000; Uslaner, 2002; Six, 2005; Bjørnskov, 2006; Hardin, 2006), as well as their possible configuration in an evolutionary environment. On the basis of this theoretical framework the subsequent empirical work is designed, always keeping in mind the assumption that humans have a social behavior widely influenced by a context of relationships within small groups. They are the social configuration humans lived most of their evolutionary history. In the theoretical framework the elements that make up trust, its typology and its possible configuration in the evolutionary history are explained. This work is the substrate used to groundthe analysis of trust and cooperative behavior carried out in the following empirical works. These empirical studies follow an original plan, grounded in a literature review (Fey, 1955; Rosenberg, 1957; Wrightsman, 1964, 1974; Rotter, 1967; Survey Research Center, 1969; Christie & Geis, 1970; Johnson-George & Swap, 1982; Rempel et al., 1985; World Values Survey Association, 2009), which involves the development of new questionnaires to measure the level of general and personal trust in a group. In addition, an experimental game –a prisoner's dilemma with some variants– is included in order to show the effective cooperative behavior of participants. The game is played in conditions of trust and non-trust among the members of the group. The pilot study is initially conducted in two different groups. The results already show the influence of close relationships of personal trust in cooperation and the interest of analyze trust networks (Radcliffe-Brown, 1940; Barnes, 1954; Milgram, 1967; Mitchell, 1969; Wasserman & Faust, 1994; Molina, J.L., 2001; White & Harary, 2001; Newman et al., 2003; Freeman, 2004; Eguíluz et al., 2005; Fowler & Christakis, 2010) more deeply. The results of this work are confirmed in a subsequent similar study with other more numerous and more comparable groups. The new results show how cooperation relates largely to an affective commitment of reciprocity that comes from personal trust, as adaptive element towards a more successful cooperation, even in conditions of anonymity, and despite the possibility of causing a cost in individuals in the short term. In addition, the study includes an analysis in depth of these groups' trust networks to analyze the importance that certain topologies of trust networks can have on the general cohesion of a group. The last part of the dissertation shows a more anthropological perspective with the completion of fieldwork in two areas characterized by a great ethnic diversity: Northern Ghana and Oaxaca, in Mexico. These locations allow study how groups interact and why they keep their ethnic identities despite a history and a territory in common. To examine whether the personal trust mechanisms present at an individual level can be also extended to larger groups or societies is aimed. In this case, in addition to the direct observation of groups and the inclusion of its historical, social, economic and political context, interviews and personal networks of cooperation are used. The work of Ghana (Rattray, 1931, 1932) Syme, 1932; Tait, 1961; Hilton, 1962; Hart, 1971; Drucker-Brown, 1975, 1992; Primmirat, 1979; Laari, 1987; Awedoba, 1989, 2001; Wilks, 1989; Assimeng, 1990; Kotey, 1995; Schlottner, 2000; Oppong, 2002; Tonah, 2005) shows the context of groups and the features of their trust networks of trust and cooperation are explained . In this work, the effectiveness of ethnic diversification as a means to create small groups more resilient when face with difficult environments is shown. The adoption of cultural forms that allow extend personal trust in larger collectives is also presented. The last work compares the Ghana results with those of Mexico (Chance, 1979; Zeithin, 1990; Campbell, 1993; Oseguera, 2004; Queen Aoyama, 2004; Barabas, 2006, 2008; Trejo Barrientos, 2006; Spores, 2008; Joyce, 2010; Nahmad Sitton, 2013), in a cross-cultural analysis to identify possible "universal" elements in trust and cooperation networks, and also cultural influences. Conclusions The previous works show that trust is a cognitive and psychological mechanism anchored in human evolutionary history. Their evolutionary origin is supported by the results of this dissertation: to demonstrate the higher influence of personal trust than general trust in fostering cooperation. Close relationships are needed for personal trust and they require small groups for its emergence –given the cognitive and temporal constraints required in order to keep such relationships with a larger number of people. Close relationships also involve an emotional dimension –a most primitive mechanism in humans. In fact, small group dynamics was found both in experimental games and in fieldwork. Personal trust also plays a role in large scale societies, where individuals continue to create their small groups in all areas of their life. However, in those societies where survival is more difficult and resources scarce certain cultural tools (such as values or norms) appear whose function is to extend personal trust to a greater number of people: groups such as ethnic groups, clans, lineages, families, commonalities, municipalities (as in the Oaxaca case). Thus, culture provides the necessary mechanisms to create strong bonds of cohesion based on emotional elements beyond the small group. Greater cohesion and a more open attitude of trust arising from such cultural tools help at time to face environments more efficiently. Thus, it could be predicted that more difficult environments show a greater group diversification. In addition, the comparison of Ghana and Mexico results allows a deeper analysis of the common elements of trust and cooperation networks -their universal aspects-: small groups and different levels of emotionality implied in the bonds of trust; and cultural elements that are suited to the historical context and the economic situation of groups, to create a more or less cohesion of its members according to their needs. Thus, in addition to identify in the field several indicators to measure trust, more effective cultural forms to foster cooperation is also identified: the values and the sense of identity of group membership, instead of formal regulations and authority.
