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Issue 57.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1998. ; lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Cbristian lives. The articles in the jou.rnal are meant to be ~nformative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational,°written from a tbeologi.cal o.r spiritual Or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creatio.n of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joe~ Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Pa~icia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents 342 looking forward Encountering Hinduism: Being Stretched by God Elizabeth Hillis OCD presents her own experience of encountering another religion as a valuable gift and a new way of deepening our faith in God, who is always greater' than our understanding. 354 Towards the Millennium Donald Macdonald SMM ponders the different a'pproaches to the millennium--through our focus on circumstance or our focus on Christ. 368 pioneers Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom: Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys Marion Norman IBVM presents, from the changing world of three and four centuries ago, two venturesome women as models of lived wisdom for the church and world of today. 387 A Path Traced Out: Providence in Mother Theodore Guerin's Life Mary Roger Madden SP draws a picture of Mother Theodore Guerin, a pioneer for the missions of the Sisters of Providence in the United States, who will be beatified on 25 October 1998. 33-8J Review for Religious 394 consecrated life Merger Issues and Ways to Address Them Beatrice M. Eichten OSF describes core issues involved when religious congregations seek some sort of merger and offers practical reflections on how to go about it. 4O7 Refounding by Honing the Purpose Concept Nihal Abeyasingha CSSR distinguishes two pursuits, purpose and values, and shows how such careful thinking can help religious in the renewal of their lives together. 419 living together Community: Intentional or. ? Catherine Harmer MMS clarifies the meaning of Christian community, with its four elements of support, challenge, accountability, and discernment. 429 Community Living: A Question of Balance Melannie Svoboda SND, on two continuums, sketches expectations and caring within religious communities and then offers individuals and communities some reflection questions. departments 340 Prisms 435 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: Background and Development 441 Book Reviews ~dy-August 1998 Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you shall forgive. prisms One of the most moving moments for me during a meeting with women and men religious in Johannesburg, South Africa, had to do with forgiveness and reconciliation. One of the participants, an Augustinian novice director, observed that, just as the government had set up a Truth and Reconciliation Commission to bring a certain peaceful closure to the painful memories of the apartheid era, so it might be help-ful in the church and in our various religious congrega-tions to establish a similar kind of commission. He noted: "The differences in policies and practices among whites, coloreds, and blacks--in our memberships and in our min-istries, not just between parish congregations but even within a single province of women or men religious---have caused pain and left scars that a church or religious-life truth and reconciliation commission might go a long way to healing." A deeply reflective silence followed, and then a chorus of voices began to express a universal agreement among the white, colored, and black religious present that this agenda needed to be pursued in future meetings among the conference members. Our life experience tells us that we human beings do not easily come to forgiveness and reconciliation. We even find the gift of forgiveness by God the most difficult of God's many gifts for us to accept. Commonly we try to earn forgiveness; we attempt to "make up" for whatever we have done badly or left undone. Our behavior is just as consistent in our relations with one another as it is with God. It is often evident in the way we offer forgiveness: on Review for Religious the condition that the person--whether it is my brother or sister, my son or daughter, my friend or fellow worker--performs in a way to deserve it. And yet forgiveness is just that: a gift "given for" someone. Jesus made it clear through his parables and his example that forgiveness is first a gift from God--given for us--and then God invites us into sharing the gift by the way we live. God so much wanted us to share in the divine way of acting that in the prayer that Jesus taught, it is the only petition to which our personal actions are connected: "Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us." Forgiveness is so far beyond our ordinary human capacities, Jesus seems to indicate, that, we need to pray for the gift in every "Our Father" we say. On that first Easter Sunday evening, Jesus appears to his dis-ciples-- all locked up in fear--and offers first for their peace the gift of his Spirit. With the permanent gifting of the Holy Spirit comes the power for us to forgive. The church for centuries has seen in these very words the foundation of the sacrament of rec-onciliation. But, long before the sacramental system was clearly delineated, the church understood the gifting of the Spirit and the power to forgive as an essential part of our Christian living in peace. Like Jesus, we are meant to stand ready always to forgive. The old saw "to err is human, to forgive divine" is very true. Even with the baptismal and confirmation gift of the Spirit, we more often feel weighted by our human meanness than moved by divine forgiveness. At first we might be inclined to think of forgiveness as being about the past. But, just as the Truth and Reconciliation Commission may be recalling past happenings only to look towards the future of South African society, so God's forgiveness of us and our forgiveness of one another always look toward the future--the way we will relate and the way we will act. That is why, as we prepare to enter into the third millennium, we need to invoke the Spirit. For our wbrld of age-old hatreds and fresh hurts cries out for us Christians to give witness to the precious gift of forgiveness. Giving witness to forgiveness--that will be our new evangelization. David L. Fleming SJ ~ly-August 1998 ELIZABETH HILLIS Encountering Hinduism: Being Stretched by God looking forward I am a Christian, a contemplative religious, yet for sev-eral years I have been learning about my God and about my faith from Hinduism. Is this a contradiction? Is it unusual? I do not think so. Religious pluralism surrounds us and allows us to cross boundaries that once set us apart from those who believe differently. Theologians study and write about how other religions experience God and the world; East-West dialogues have been set up between Christian and Buddhist monastic communities; in secu-lar and professional life we frequently encounter Hindus and Muslims, take classes in yoga, read about kundalini awakening, practice Zen sitting. How is the Catholic to grapple with the challenge to faith presented by such encounters? There is no easy answer, but from prayer-fully reflecting on my own experience I have gained some insights into this important adventure. First, I would like to make clear my belief that encountering.another religion is a valuable gift, that it is actually a divine call to open ourselves to a new way of finding ourselves in a world that is growing smaller, a new way of deepening our faith in God., who is always greater than our understanding. This gift may noF be for everyone, and it is seldom something we choose for ourselves. It just happens. Then we have to make room for it in our lives, room which may reorganize everything else. That is how Elizabeth Hillis OCD writes from Carmel of the Holy Family; 3176 Fairmount Boulevard; Cleveland Heights, Ohio 44118. Review for Religious it was for me, and this article presents some aspects of what I have learned in the process. My first direct contact with Hinduism was through a medical professional whom I met in 1989. From my first meeting with her, I was impressed with something that I felt instinctively had to do with her Indian origin and her Hindu beliefs. What drew me to her seems to have been related to the quality of her silence and serenity. Though busy with her medical practice and busy with being a wife and the mother of teenage children, she seemed to. possess a poise and centeredness, an evenness of mind and judgment, a detached yet focused compassion for her patients and colleagues that was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. She seemed to have a secret source of strength. She once gave this state of centeredness a Sanskrit name, sthita-prajna, and spoke of how she had seen this quality in her own mother the last time she saw her before she died. With her husband and children, she had returned to India to visit her parental home. Her mother had welcomed them joyously, but,. when it came time for them to leave, the mother was equally able to let them go. Her outward serenity seemed clearly to come from serenity within. It was the same quality that I had noticed in this woman. Stbita-prajna, written on a small piece of Post-it paper (that I still have!), was the beginning of my study of Hindu religious texts. My first reading was of the Bhagavad-Gita, probably the most pop-ular and widely read of all the Hindu scriptures, and that which is dearest to many Hindus. There, in the second chapter, I met stbita-prajna again, where K_rishna explains to Arjuna the qualities of an integrated person who can regard all things, persons, and experi-ences equally with detached interest. The Gita states: When a man puts from him all desires that prey upon the mind, himself contented in self alone, then is he called a man of steady wisdom. Whose mind is undismayed though beset by many a sor-row, who for pleasures has rio further.longing, from whom all passion, fear, and wrath have fled, such a man is called a man of steadied thought, a silent sage. Who l~as no love for any thing, who rejoices not at whatever good befalls him nor hates the bad that comes his way-- firm-stablished is the wisdom of such a man. And when he draws in on every side his senses from their proper objects as a tortoise might draw in its limbs--firm-stablished is the wisdom of such a man.~ ~uly-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism While this text does not represent the whole of Hindu thought, it does touch on an important element, the yoga (or practice) of renunciation. What is renounced here is not human activity or experience, but the tendency to attach oneself to human experi-ences in such a way that they destabilize the self. These are the "desires that prey upon the mind." Pleasures and sorrows, good and bad experiences, still come and go, but they no longer disturb the person who is established in the truth of the self (atman). Such a person lives in a state of equanimity, stbita-prajna, "steady wisdom" or stable consciousness. My friend had seen this in her mother, and I had seen it in her. In ~ubsequent conversations she explained her understand-ing of a related discipline, what the Gita calls karma yoga or the "yoga of detached action." All work is to be done with detach-ment because it is our duty. Attachment to the reward of our works ties us to what we do; nonattachment frees us from such bondage to deeds (karma). Therefore, detached, perform unceasingly the works that must be done, for the man detached who labors on to the highest must win through. (BG 3.19, p, 55) Furthermore, offering the work to God is a spiritual sacrifice that brings freedom. Content to take whatever chance may bring his way, sur-mounting all dualities, knowing no envy, the same in success and failure, though working still he is not bound. Attachment gone, deliverance won, his thoughts are fixed on wisdom: he works for sacrifice alone, and all the work he ever did entirely melts away. (BG 4.22-23, p. 59) The Gita goes on to teach that the person who is stabilized in self, sthita-prajna, and who engages in d~tached action, karma yoga, has yet another step to take toward complete integration and freedom: devotion or bhakti. This is to make all existence, all action, a means of loving God. The god referred to in the Gita is Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, and it is he who instructs Arjuna: "Let him sit, his self all stilled . . . his thoughts on Me, integrated, yet intent on Me" (BG 6.14, p. 66). Thus the stabi-lization of self and the yoga of detached action are not enough by themselves to bring liberation: one needs to focus the mind and heart entirely on a personal god. Bhakti (loving devotion) is nec-essary; a surrender to the divine being both completes the task of personal integration and makes it possible. Review for Religious The source of all am I; from Me all things proceed: this knowing, wise men commune with Me in love, full filled with warm affection . To these men who are ever inte-grated and commune with Me in love I give that integration of the soul by which they may draw nigh to Me. (BG 10.8,10, p. 78) Steady consciousness, detached action, and loving devotion to a personal god, such are a few basic teachings of the Gita which might be an interesting parallel to the Christian path toward union with God. But I am not sure that the study of Hindu texts alone would have held my interest if it had not been for the liv-ing example and friendship of a contemporary Indian woman who was willing to share with me her own experience of her religion. In addition to our infrequent conversations, I had the witness of her own life, which concretely modeled what I~read. She partic-ularly exemplified the path of karma yoga by making offerings to God of her everyday actions: her medical practice, her care of husband and children, driving a car, shopping. I am not speak-ing here of a woman who was externally "religious" in an obvious way. She was far from any Hindu community where she might visit a temple or gather with others in .devotional rituals. Her home, her clothing, her habits were fully American. Her children attended the local public high school. Yet she was attempting to conform her life to the wisdom of the Gita, to live an integrated life as best she could, to work with detachment, to teach her chil-dren the values and beliefs she had internalized. Did she succeed? It seems to me that she did in a way she never planned. In November 1991 she was diagnosed as having a brain tumor, which in spite of all treatment slowly took every-thing away from her: her medical practice, her power of thought and judgme.nt, and even life itself. In this situation of tragedy, she asked, not (as we all might) "Why me?" but "Why now?" She regretted more than anything that she would not see her chil-dren grow up. Yet at the same time she struggled to live in a spirit of self-surrender, one day at a time, sometimes feeling better, often feeling worse. I saw in her a growing search for a hope that could take her beyond the limitations of her physical weakness. From time to time she asked her husband to bring her to our monastery chapel, where she spent time in silent meditation, sit-ting beside him or with one of her sisters who had come from India to care for her. She brought all of her family to meet me, to Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism talk about meditation, or to share her questions on whether to seek further treatment. She asked for the address of a place of prayer where she could make a retreat, though she was never well enough to carry out this i~lan. . For me it is significant that this Hindu woman found in a Christian monastic setting a place where she could experience peace and gain insight again into how to live her life fully to the end. We had never spoken of religious questions with a view to converting one another, and yet, with each other's help, both of us had grown in following our own path to God. I like to think that, just as her %lues and beliefs had deepened mine, the witness of a contemplative religious had helped develop in her the "devo-tion" to a personal god that she knew from the Gita: Whoso at the hour of death, abandoning his mortal frame, bears Me in mind and passes on, acdedes to my own mode of being; there is no doubt of this . Then muse upon Me.always. for, if you fix your mind and soul on Me, you will, nothing doubting, come to Me. (BG 8.5,7, p. 72) I have no evidence that my friend found consolation in this text of the Gita as I do now when I think back to her last months. There comes a time when we cannot accompany those we love in their final journey. But knowing that these scriptures were part of the fabric of her life makes me sure that their content and mean-ing had been internalizeddn the way that we Christians have sim-ilar texts engraved in our memory and our heart: "Come to me, all you who labor and are heavily burdened, and I will give you rest" (Mr 11:28). In~ the end the truths that we live by, and die by, are very simple. I miss Shobha. I know that in some mysterious way my life was changed by our friendship. But it was also changed by the religious encounter that was the context of our relationship. Since her death I have studied Hinduism patiently and perseveringly from many different perspectives, and I know that I shall con-tinue to. do so because, just as it did in the beginning through her, this encounter with another religion still constantly reveals God to me. I have taken some time to detail what "happened" to me. Now I need to question how I have (or have not) integrated it into my life. How do I remain a Christian and deepen my Christian under-standing and commitments by learning from Hinduism? How Revlew for Religious does anyone stay balanced when crossing the boundary that nor-mally sets Christian experience apart from the non-Christian? I have formulated four guidelines for my own use, which could be applied to any situation of interreligious exploration, but which here I apply to my study of Hinduism. They are, briefly: (1) Take seriously the differences between my own tradition and that of another religion. (2) Pay attention to the details that I notice. (3) Follow the questions that naturally arise. And (4) keep looking back at my own tradition. First, I need to take seriously the differences between my Catholic beliefs, theology, and practices and those I see in a Hindu friend or read about in a Hindu text. Great injustice can be done both to my own self-understanding and to my real appreciation of the "other" if I look only for similarity of shared views or experience. We may have much in common, but there is probably a much greater area of difference. To over-look this, or to settle for a vague intuition of universal connectedness, is not helpful. It may even be harmful, and it is certainly not respectful of the other. It is usually not true that we are all saying the same things in dif-ferent words. Very often we are saying quite different things about the divine, about human life, and about the nature of human/divine interaction. I had to keep this realization in mind during my conversations with Shobha. It was necessary for me continually to ask myself what she meant by a certain explanation of her beliefs. I had to go to the texts she quoted and try to understand them as she did rather than separate out inspiring' thoughts that fit comfortably into my Catholic framework. An example is found in the texts quoted above from the Bhagavad-Gita and the Gospel of Matthew. In both places the words "come to me" are used, by Jesus and by Krishna. Yet the context shows that Matthew's Jesus is inviting his hearers to human discipleship in the present life, a discipleship which involves a specific sort of following, a willingness to learn of Christ, humility of heart, and the patient carrying of the burdens of life. On the other hand, the Krishna of the Gita calls the devo- How does anyone s tay balanced when crossing the boundary that normally sets Christian experience apart from the non-Christian? Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism tee to an inner concentration on his divine being, leaving behind any attachment to human life which could tie the soul to earthly existence and necessitate further cycles of rebirth. In both situa-tions divine comfort is offered to the person who approaches God in loving trust, but in one case the fulfillment given by Jesus is incarnational while, in the other case, material exis(ence must be transcended for the sake of merging with Krishna in his univer-sal form. On the surface it is natural that the words of Krishna would call to mind those of Jesus, but it must always be kept in mind that Krishna is not Christ, nor is his relationship to the devotee the same as that of Christ to the Christian disciple. It seems best to let the differences simply stand as they are. We can learn from the tension of holding these texts side by side and see-ing both what they are saying and what they are not saying. We also learn the detachment of letting others come to Krishna dif-ferently than we come to Christ. This recognition of difference leads into the second guide-line, to pay attention to the details we notice. It is in the details that we most frequently confront the differences that exist between religions. Although it may seem helpful to generalize about another religion in order to have a coherent way to grasp its tenets and the interrelationship of belief and practice, such generaliza, tion gives a false sense of mastery. It glosses over unwieldy facts which do not fit the pattern that a predetermined theology assigns to "non-Christian" experience. If we really want to take another religion seriously, it is worthwhile to read its sacred writings and hear what its followers have to say about themselves. This means attentive listening and openness to a diversity we might not expect. Unfamiliar mythology will frequently perplex us; moving rituals or insightful texts will possibly attract us; exotic practices may repel us. In one way or another, a good many unmanageable details will keep us aware that Hinduism is vast, complex, and varied in its expressions. It takes time and serious application on our part to identify and unlock the meaning of certain key con-cepts. Patient attention to the details we do not understand keeps us in a position of humility. There is much we may have to leave unexplored and unexplained. This is in itself a most respectful way of approaching the "other"--to acknowledge the mystery and to let it stand as it is. It is God we are meeting in this mys-tery of the other, God who acts in the lives .and values of real people who do not believe or think or Worship as we do, God Review for Religious whose grace is far more extensive than our theological constructs might have us realize. Details lead us to question what we are learning. It is impor-tant at this point to follow the questions that arise and to allow them to open new questions, new vistas of understanding, and new mys-teries of God that we cannot begin to penetrate. When the details make me aware that Krishna cannot really be considered a Christ-figure, that he teaches a very different sort of doctrine than Jesus, then I naturally begin to ask: Who is this Krishna? What is his origin? How is he human, how divine? What sort of deity is he? How do people relate to him, worship him, love him, serve him? Such questions are the heart of interreligious experience, but they probably cannot be asked until we have gone through the pre-liminary steps of taking seriously the other religion. As long as I do not consider Krishna to be an authentic deity for a con-siderable number of real people, there is a danger that I will consider him to be only a fable, a religious fiction that need not be reckoned with in a serious way. The situation becomes even more complex if I .begin to follow these initial questions and find that there is not only the Krishna of the Gita, but also the Krishna of north-Indian mythology and the Krishna of south-Indian devotional poetry. How are they the same deity and how different and how do the various strands of the Krishna tradition combine and intermingle? To find out who Krishna is will lead me to question what a deity is, how mythology is part of every religious figure, how story and experience and ritual play a part in the development of belief. These vast questions have opened up for me simply because I paid attention to details about a god who is foreign to my religious tradition. It soon becomes obvious that, to pursue these questions, one must study seriously. This is an important point because encoun-tering another religion has to engage more than my feelings of attraction or repulsion or my intuition of realities beyond words. I need to use my mind in a careful and persevering way in order to enter into the world of the Hindu, who may seem to have Encountering another religion has to engage more than my feelings of attraction or repulsion or my intuition of realities beyond words. ff~dy-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encounte~ing Hinduism human feelings of devotion similar to mine, but whose way of thinking about religious truths may be unlike any systematic approach familiar to me. Unless thought is explored by thought, there can be no real understanding of the other. To set ourselves to this task is, in one sense, to pursue an unrealistic goal, because the scope of another religion is so vast and the context so for-eign. Yet the very impossibility of the endeavor to think beyond our categories is what calls us to begin, in whatever small ways we can. To try to think with a Hindu about her beliefs, even by read-ing a sacred text she treasures, to set aside prejudgments that would restructure her beliefs in a Christian framework, to thoughtfully pursue questions about the differences we see, but without ever coming to the end of those questions, is to stumble into the vastness of God with a new appreciation of how very limited is the human grasp of Divine Reality. Vv'hen it is so difficult and time consuming to learn about another religion, why would anyone bother? The reason may be that there is an Other whom we do not know and curiosity leads us to investigate beyond what is familiar and comfortable. The exploration of cosmic space is an example of the insatiable need we have to go where we have never been, to understand what we do not yet know. In the experience of going beyond our bound-aries, an incredible miracle can happen. Our astronauts experi-enced it the first time they walked on the moon. It was the miracle of looking back and seeing the planet Earth as one single unit, not a globe divided into nations and territories. It so changed their view of life that, when they returned home, they were impelled to do all they could for unity among the peoples who inhabit the planet, to share their vision of the whole with as many as could receive it. A similar paradigm shift occurs when we try to step into the world of another religion: we see the human quest for God in a different way than before. It becomes necessary to work for a more reverent view of the religious "other." It is no longer possible to criticize or to compete or even to compare; in whatever limited way we can, we must seek to understand. Boundaries between countries and differences between religions will continue to exist, and such differentiation is healthy. But the boundaries can become permeable; the differences can contribute to increased self, understanding. The last step in the process of learning from another religion seems to be that it leads us to keep looking back at our own tradi- Review for Religious tion. Whether we start our investigation because we are curious, or because it seems a good thing to pursue, or simply because it "happens" to us, we will always find it necessary to look back. We need to be firmly grounded in our own tradition and to be deepening our roots continuously as we look outward. In my case, many years of pondering the Scriptures, the Carmelite mystical tradition, and other Christian mystical writings--and some famil-iarity with theology--give me a stable position for looking into Hinduism. I am spontaneously attracted to the writings of Hindu mystics, and these, in turn, call me back to well-known Christian texts that seem almost parallel in their expression of the search for God. Let us put the above-quoted text from the Gita on detached work alongside a maxim of John of the Cross: Therefore, detached, perform unceasingly the works that must be done, for the man detached who labors on to the highest must win through. Content to take whatever chance may bring his way, surmounting all dualities, knowing no envy, the same in ~uccess and failure, though working still he is not bound. Attachment gone, deliverance won, his thoughts are fixed on wis-dom: he works for sacrifice alone, and all the work he ever did entirely melts away. (Bhagavad-Gita 3.19, 4.22-23, pp. 55 and 59) God is more pleased by one work however small, done secretly, without desire that it be known, than a thousand done with the desire that people know of them. Those who work for God with purest love not only care nothing about whether others see their works, but do not even seek that God himself know of them. Such persons would riot cease to render God the same services, with the same joy and purity of love, even if God were never to know of these. (St. John of the Cross, Sayings of Light and Love, 20)2 When texts are paired in this way, we can look back and forth between one tradition and another and gain from the light each one reflects upon the other. We see the obvious and important dif-ferences and the questions which these raise, but this need not prevent us from letting the two texts illumine one another. Francis X. Clooney SJ, to whom I am indebted for this insightful model of comparison, makes this comment about parallel texts: "As I read back and forth., each keeps showing me a way to the other, ~uly-August 1998 Hillis ¯ Encountering Hinduism and I end up with a doubled insight, a spiritual 'sense that goes beyond either text by itself. Pairing texts such as these creates a visual tension and emphasizes the enhancement of meaning occurring when we take our own tradition and another seriously and reverently, at the same time, together.''3 Such a bringing together of texts provides a way of integrat-ing our previous Christian commitment with any experiences that cross religious boundaries. Each encounter with the "Other" echoes back to something familiar even as it draws us beyond. We learn to look alternately in both directions without criticism or superiority, but in humble and careful appreciation. Actually what seems to take place when we look into another religion and then back at our own over a period of time is a weaving back and forth between the two in such a way that the ideas, texts, or expe-riences complement each other and intermingle fruitfully without distortion of their origin.al identity. We do not try to force par-allels, but merely look back and forth from one text to another where different traditions are attempting to grapple with com-mon questions about human experience of the divine. What I learned from Hinduism about sthita-prajna, about karma yoga, and about bhakti enable me to take a new look at detachment, duty, and devotion and at the freedom I have in sur-render to Christ. My frame of reference is not the same as that of the Gita; I am not a devotee of Krishna, but a disciple of Christ. Yet I believe I am a better follower of the gospel and a better reli-gious because of my contact with the Gita and with a woman whose life exemplified for me her Hindu beliefs. My questions about Krishna and what sort of deity he is lead me to look at what sort of God I worship and love and serve in Jesus. Without the vantage point of Hinduism, without (as it were) standing on the moon, I might not have had the perspective to look back and see in simpler terms the unity of my own Catholic faith and the rad-icality of my contemplative quest. I am certain that, without step-ping outside my own Catholic worldview, I would not have been grasped and changed by the vastness of God, who is very present in Hinduism in a way that will always be a mystery to me. The gift of encountering another religion is well worth the demands it makes on us in time, openness, vulnerability, or patient study. There is risk, but if we look back as well as forward, if we stay poised in the tension created by who we are as Catholic and how we are discovering God in non-Christian experiences, if we Review for Religious pay attention to differences, details, and questions, it is very pos-sible that we will be overtaken by the miracle of finding ourselves anew in a world of faith, where we learn from our non-Christian neighbor how very big God is. Notes ~ The Bhagavad-Gita 2.55-58, trans. R.C. Zaehner (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), p. 52. The Zaehner translation of the Gita is the most tex-tually accurate, but I quote with apology for the lack of inclusive lan-guage. The Sanskrit text meant "he" because it was primarily addressed to higher-caste males. 2 The Collected Vdorks of St. John of the Cross, trans. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD (Washington, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1991), pp. 86-87. 3 Francis X. Clooney SJ, "In Ten Thousand Places, in Every Blade of Grass: Uneventful but True Confessions about Finding God in India, and Here Too," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 28, no. 3 (May 1996), pp. 1-42, esp. pp. 2-3. See also his "Praying through the Non-Christian," Review for Religious 49, no. 3 (May-June 1990), pp. 434-444, and his Seeing Through Texts (New York: SUNY Press, 1996). In chapter 5 of this work, Clooney gives many illuminating examples of parallel Hindu and Christian texts. Many foreign missionaries depend upon people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363 or fax: 314-977-7362 L353.-- July-August 1998 DONALD MACDONALD Towards the Millennium Ibrecall a series of magazine articles on foreign travel written y people who had never been to the countries they described--this approach would be objective! The magazine was, of course, being humorous. But, in fast-moving times such as ours, we perhaps speak too glibly of the years ahead. Wisely, then, does Tertio millennio adveniente emphasize "preparation for." with a view to being ready for the psychological dynamism of a new beginning should it come. For it is better to examine the present moment with a view to the future than to just dream of what may or may not be. From the Christian perspective, we have the choice of cen-tering either on circumstance or on Christ. I shall sketch briefly what each of these choices means, and then examine them both at greater length. The center of gravity of mature individuals, it has been said, is always to be found where they actually are. Such people accept responsibility for and from the situation in which they now find themselves, even when it is a difficult one. While all of us grow older, not all of us grow up, and so not everyone manages to retain this center of gravity, this poise. We do not automatically mature. People try to avoid responsibility and look for the gap in the hedge. By profession, by publicly giving our word, we religious are considered to have invested ourselves in a group of people who have the intention of identifying with the will of God. Here we are Donald Macdonald S!VIM writes for us the first time eve~ from his native Scodand: Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead; G78 1TA; Scotland, U.K. Review for Religious meant to strike root, and growing maturity should help us exam-ine the present and future landscape from that perspective. In practice, then, our center of gravity is either in circum-stance or in Christ. Present circumstances, like the electricity bill, seem so real as to define reality; they appear so immediate that response to them seems inescapable. Yet, if we are always latch-ing on to current circumstance, reacting to what we think is hap-pening, we should not be surprised to find ourselves with the patchwork personality of a rag doll. It is almost impossible to have a center of gravity in forever changing circumstance. To drive a particular car, the advertiser tells us, means "You know you are a success." Equally the ecology lobby may suggest an indifference to our present environment. Fashions change even in church and religious life. Wise are the religious who never iden-tify wholly with what they are doing at the expense of who they are. To have even a toehold in the present, it helps to have a foothold in the past; "real development is not leaving things behind as on a road, but drawing life from them as from a root.''~ Taking our identity and sense of worth chiefly from present cir-cumstance can never give us such a root; hence, as the millen-nium approaches, there is a sense of rootlessness among many people, people who are subject to the tyranny of the contempo-rary. On the other hand, what is our perspective on life when our center of gravity is in Christ? The ministry [of Christ] has gone on for nineteen centuries and more, and it still goes on. What is the secret of its stay-ing power? The answer of the whole New Testament is that it is the risen Christ himself who is carrying it out. It is very easy for us, who have been brought up in a scientific age, to think of Jesus bequeathing his principles and ideals to his followers and leaving it to them to take up and carry on the task he is presumed to have laid down somewhere about A.D. 30. That is not the New Testament picture at all. There can be little doubt that, if it had been left to the disciples to take up tasks, their choice would have fallen elsewhere . No: the secret of the matter is that it is Christ who picks up the threads, Christ who takes the lead, Christ whose presence and power are one constant inspiration and strength. The resurrection means above all just this, that Christians do not inherit their task from Christ, they share it with him. We are not the successors of Jesus but his com- ~dy-August 1998 MacdonaM ¯ Towards the Millennium panions. That is the measure both of our privilege and our personality.2 Insofar as this insight of faith matures and truly becomes our own, we are taken out of ourselves into a growing realization of the gift of God in Christ in the present moment. This should be an endless source of wonder. We mature as Christians precisely insofar as we realize the wonder of the companionship offered through our baptism into Christ--that we are in the church and with him in the church. Transfiguration into Christ should be seen as a real option. Generations of saints and the genuinely good prove it. There is a world of difference between "succes-sor" and "companion." If we have not matured in Christ, as the New Testament understands it, we shall never understand this, and that perspective will not be ours. We are then unable to see what is there in the present moment in Christ. We are left to look for meaning and purpose in life elsewhere, not least in response to circumstances over which we have little control. A Prey to Circumstance The first thing to be said about approaching the millennium under the tutelage of circumstance is that we may not see it. We may have died. We may, too, be ill or incapacitated. Our limited circumstances will be world enough for us then. Some of us may decide to jump ship to look for a safer berth outside of our order or congregation. This is understandable as a response to circum-stance. Circumstances change and we fear the changes. What will happen to us in the millennium? The thought of sitting among strangers all day in a home for the elderly run by the town coun-cil, with little status and less independence, can really frighten us. Seen as changing circumstances, the millennium means inse-curry. That then, for the first time since our prot~ession, we might find ourselves genuinely "poor in fact and spirit" (Perfectae cari-tatis §13) might weigh little against our fear of radically changing circumstances. We will likely feel bullied and frightened as the coming millennium takes us into an unfamiliar world that we can-not control. We may also be afraid of the changing culture, particularly in the West. The values which to some extent have formed us and to which we have tried to give our lives may increasingly be pushed to the edge. The sales person with a product nobody wants is in Review for Religious a frightening position. Contemporary movers and shakers who set the pace and seem to write the agenda for living may marginal-ize us. The millennium may see us, then, washed further up onto the shore of utter irrelevance. Who are we then? From a Christian standpoint, there is a progressive coarsen-ing of life generally. The positive values of our culture--built on our Judeo-Christian ethic, however imperfectly practiced--have hitherto managed to order relationships between individuals, neighborhoods, bureaucracy, law, and society. Shared assumptions mapped out life around us. This is now changing. The unborn, children, and the elderly are particu-larly vulnerable. The intrinsic dignity of individuals as created by God and redeemed by Christ, along with that dignity's call for respect, is under increasing pressure as the gospel light which illumined human reality is dimmed. Tabloid newspapers and media culture generally appear to be governed by "the bottom line." People are treated cruelly and privacy is invaded as the poor and immature are exploited to make a dead-line. The worldwide picture seems even worse. Power, money, and sex have always been dominant in human behavior, but the pounds, francs, and dollars purchased in that world are often at the expense of the basic currency used there--people. Inevitably, reli-gious whose identity is primarily from circumstance will be influ-enced when not overwhelmed by this. They may approach the coming millennium in a state of free-fall, with numbing fear rather than challenging expectation. Contemporary culture is not wholly negative. The concern for our global environment is a positive value without being made an ersatz religion as well. There is, too, an active social concern to better the lives of people worldwide. But even here, with icons like Francis of Assisi, Mother Teresa, and many a selfless Christian neighbor, the picture painted is often of the church scrambling to catch up with something contemporary and worthwhile whose impetus comes from elsewhere. Whether this is true or not is beside the poin.t to people who take their cue. mainly from the present situation. We mature as Christians precisely insofar as we realize the wonder of the companionship offered through our baptism into Christ. y~uly-dug'ust 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium A further positive value is a growing awareness of transcen-dence and the spiritual. The church, which religious represent and which, one might think, could offer so much here, is again dis-advantaged. A common perception is that the Christian religion emphasizes morality at the expense of spirituality whereas Buddhism, for example, gives primacy to spirituality. It is sad to see this, but in practice it is often the gospel as lived and preached even by committed believers. The Pauline way of centering first on Christ, and then from within that companionship being open to life regardless of circumstance, is far from universal in Christianity as commonly experienced. There is often no real understanding of the motivation for Christian behavior. Religious marked with that lack are handicapped in approaching the mil-lennium. We cannot bring to the millennium values we do not yet have. An increasing desire for the spiritual cannot be met by religious who do not know how to mine that seam from within the past aiad present of their church. Whoever thinks of the future must be concerned with the worrying question of vocations to religious life. In much of the world, families are becoming smaller. The two-child family is not especially suited to being the home of vocations to religious life. And, with family relationships frequently breaking up, the home is not often a likely place for the nurture and support of religious vocations. Against this background the'shortage of candidates cannot just be put down to "bad" men and women religious not living up to the evangelical life to which they are committed. Young people growing up in a sometimes decadent media/pop culture readily get used to being fed on a diet of having rather than giving. "What's in it for me? It does nothing for me! The magic's gone! I'm too young for responsibility!"--such words, all turning on the idea of self-fulfillment, do not create a seedbed for future vocations to any form of adult Christian life. Long-term, open-ended, lifelong commitment is increasingly rare in contemporary culture. Nothing lasts. You are always let down. In nominally Christian communities, many adults do not mea-sure up and do not take responsibility for where they are. The increasing spread of what is held to be politically cor-rect can suffocate an authentic gospel life. The young, especially, need vision and courage if they are not to succumb, in an endless succession, to one or another flavor of the month. Often what is politically correct may not be evangelically right. A newspaper Review for Religious" cartoon, for example, shows a schoolboy buying cigarettes and asking the shopkeeper to wrap them in a copy of Gay News--an acerbic comment on a government policy advocating sixteen as the minimum legal age for homosexual relations while holding to the age of eighteen for buying cigarettes. In webs of circumstance like this, many young people may not be able to hear a call to religious life that is otherwise clear and inviting. Another problem today is that for many young persons the test of reality is how they themselves experience life. No one, particularly no authority figure, is going to tell them how to live their life! They are free! Vv'hat counts is what is trueJbr them. Reality is what they feel it is. Drawing upon a wealth of 20th-century experience, they are chary of giving ourselves to a guru, whether secu-lar or Christian. From the infamous results of "only obeying orders" to the pain caused by religious guides with feet of clay, the path is littered with casualties, and the hurts go deep. What people do not so well defend themselves against--and it can be just as damaging--is losing, unawares, their freedom regarding some contemporary matters, matters about which they adopt unthink-ingly the politically correct answer. The fetters here can hold as firmly as any medieval mindset is alleged to have done, and the damage may be terminal. To vow ourselves to God in religious life means that, to a greater or lesser extent, we commit ourselves to an overarching tradition and to a particular superior. Few people like constraint, and today God, parents, teachers, and other authority figures are often treated with pointed disrespect. There seems to be a com-pulsion for people to assert themselves in opposition to them, whereas nonauthority figures are often worshiped and can take us where they will. If the surface aggression is paramount, there is litde place for trust, and so a genuinely gospel community can-not be built. If this immaturity is carried to the approaching mil-lennium, there will be an inbuilt fault in the foundations of whatever we attempt to create. In the church, superiors are sometimes seen as the unaccept-able face of religion. Yet someone has to be willing to take the The increasing spread of what is held to be politically correct can suffocate an authentic gospel life. J~dy-August 1998 Macdonald * Towards the Millennium responsibility, especially in our unsetded times. It may cost much. The superior, in thrall to circumstance, will suffer particularly, always presupposing his or her own integrity while in office. A for-mer provincial superior, reflecting on his time in office, said; "One loses one's innocence when one is in a position of author-ity. Would it were otherwise"--but he notes that the great major-ity are not the cause of his hurt.3 Cardinal Basil Hume OSB, archbishop of Westminster, spoke of being misunderstood, misrepresented, disliked, criticized, and written off as a disaster.4 (Of course, this kind of thing, in today's jargon, "goes with the territory," but also is not always unde-served.) Yet now he has come to see such suffering as really a blessing. The disguise may seem impenetrable, but the blessing is there. When circumstances chastened and hurt him despite his best endeavors, he found it a marvelous way to grow in the Spirit. In the situation he came to see that only the gospel lasts. Everything else falls away, and ultimately he is graced with the realization that there is only the fidelity of God in Christ to be relied on. St. Paul, writing from prison, would agree: "God. has gra-ciously granted you the privilege (charis) not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well" (Ph 1:29). When we feel hemmed in and hurt by circumstance as we approach the millen-nium, it would help immeasurably if we were at home with the small print of the gospel. It really does translate experience for us--provided that we focus in any and every situation not on cir-cumstance, no matter how immediate, but on our risen Lord. The Company of Christ and Each Other As the basic guide for religious "is a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel" (Perfectae caritatis §2), it follows that to attempt this we need to know how to approach the New Testament, where the authentic portrait of Christ is to be found. We should test the assumption that, come the millennium, we will really know how to do this. It is the claim of Pope John Paul II that, given "the prayerful and meditated reading of the word . . . a humble and loving lis-tening to him who speaks., one's own vocation can be discov-ered and understood, loved and followed, and one's own mission carried out.''s This is a major claim, but the Holy Father rein- Review for Religious forces it when he says "the person's entire existence finds its uni-fying, radical, meaning in being the terminus of God's word." That is to say, if we mature into habitually, instinctively being a terminus of the gospel, all the threads of a situation and the capac-ity of life to shock or puzzle us will be brought together; whatever lies deepest in us will be reached; and we will be given to see pur-pose in life. For many this is but a worthy platitude, notionally true but factually unreal. Yet the claim stands. If we can find our way to becoming a terminus of the word of God, we will not nec-essarily have a trouble-free life, but we will be given a security which jostling circumstance cannot unsettle. We are, as has been well said, then in touch with the Pilot. Imagine if we approached the millennium from within that perspective, knowing it to be true! A cameo, chiefly from a few verses of Philippians 3, gives us a glimpse of how this might be done and of the dividends to be gained from doing it. From prison St. Paul wrote to his people in Philippi to thank them for remembering him there and for gen-erously sending one of their number to help and encourage him. The backdrop to the letter (and, in truth, the foreground to Paul's understanding of community) is soon stated: "I thank my God . ¯. for your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now" (1:3,5). Invariably it is "us" with St. Paul, never "me and you" unless he is forced to "speak like a fool" in defense of his stand-ing as a genuine apostle. This fellowship (koinonia) between Paul and his people, which stems from the realization of their oneness in Christ through baptism, is the overall context in which the interchange of the letter takes place. When, as here, it is under-stood and reciprocated, it both thrills and puts new heart into him. He writes from within the strength of that relationship to encourage it and further it. That insight of responsibility for each other in Christ is as valid today as then. If we approach the millennium determined to make our baptismal fellowship real by investing ourselves in the c.ommunity, we will communicate, at a deep level. It should be a priority and is well within the competence of most of us if, for example, it is expressed in a word of appreciation, a word of sym-pathy, a word of encouragement, a word of thanks. These are the building blocks, and the present moment is the time and place to lay them. As we know from experience, a word "in season," when genuinely meant, does really help and might encourage us and ~tly-Augttst 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium those around us to reach and welcome the millennium. "Friends are facts, and the good things you have done to them are facts," said G.K. Chesterton. This is time usefully and evangelically spent. Only insofar as we mature in Christian life will we do this and be able to sense how shoes pinch other people's feet. St. Paul writes of his present situation: "I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things" (3:8). The verb suggests total loss as in shipwreck or business failure. Everything has gone--family, status, career, security, good name. He writes from prison now. Initially he was compelled to leave Philippi after being given the standard flogging for a trouble-maker. His present situation follows the same pattern. Then, as now, circumstances are none of his choosing, but in the situation, as Cardinal Hume and many others found when similarly placed, he finds God in Christ: "for his sake I have suffered the loss of all things., in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him" (3:8-9). He is in fact in prison, but Paul knows that he is in Christ! There is his center of gravity. From the viewpoint of circumstance, his fidelity to the call of God's providence in Christ has wrapped him in rags and insecurity. The same situation, seen from the insight of faith, is altogether worthwhile, for it enables him to "gain Christ and be found in him." This is a superb place to be, with an enviable grasp of reality. What a center to move out from! Religious approaching the millennium would do well to try to make that perspective theirs. Whatever the circumstance, our risen Lord is there. We date the present from the moment of Christ's birth. He is our companion now. Each moment of each day as well as the millennium finds us wanting "to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his suffering by becoming like him in his death" (3:10). The verb implies close identity, and again transfiguration is offered as a real possibility. Paul discovered this not by whisding in a cemetery or in a library, but by applying the insight of faith to the circumstances of every-day life, good days and bad. Attempting in such company to become a terminus of the word of God offers us virtually unquan-tifiable dividends. Finally, for our purposes, Paul says, "I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own" (3:12). Again the situation is prison. Paul writes of racing to the finish of a race Review for Religious when in fact he is not going anywhere without his jailers' per-mission. The marathon of the Christian life which he entered at baptism is not particularly concerned with going from A to B to C, Rather, it means interpreting the present situation through a progressive deepening of understanding of what it means to be in Christ, There is never a situation or circumstance where our risen Lord is not there. Even in the isolation of crucifixion, if life is so cruel, even there we are nailed to the cross with Christ. Paul says that he has not yet fully matured in Christ. There is always more to be sounded in those unfathomable depths. The dynamic here is the wonderful realization that "Christ Jesus has made me his own." He wants to hold as he is now being held. Held within the security of his Lord who rose from a grave to make him "his own," Paul is a driven man. He is aware that his present situation may cost him his life--"I am being poured out as a libation" (2:17)--but it can never separate him from Christ. From this unchanging center, there is much more to be received and, within himself, much still to be surrendered. So, from within the security of his risen Lord whatever the circumstance, Paul is "still running, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured me" (3:14). The imaginative appeal Of the imagery comes from an imprisoned Christian individual writing a letter of thanks and encouragement to his no doubt frightened people. So much seems to go so wrong so often. Yet he would have them think as he does: "Let those of us then who are mature be of the same mind" (3:15). Just what does he see? Religious who would be more mature as they approach the millennium could usefully examine their situation from that perspective. Does that insight interpret life for us at any level? Baptism into Christ means an invitation to a present relationship with God through the Spirit, not just loose membership in a particular group. Religious life has no other purpose than to invite us to enflesh that in ourselves by attempting to live for God alone at one with his will. The experience of St. Paul in times past is not without value, but what if it could be mine now? Understood from within a Spirit-graced Christian community, it pays altogether richer div-idends. It is not just an example of what someone did then, but an There is never a situation or circumstance where our risen Lord is not there. Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium invitation to consider what we can do now. This is interpreting life in the light of the gospel. Unifying, radical meaning is on offer here to those who try to be habitually open to receive. In Christ ours is a present reality. We are his companions, not his succes-sors trying to make what we can of a long-dead tradition. Accordingly, "to mature" means here that we have Someone to give and someone to be. This is not the least of what we can bring to the millennium. If we stay rooted in Christ, into whom we have been bap-tized, we can come to know that immediate circumstance is not all there is in defining present reality. There is no need to approach the millennium like stunned rabbits caught in the headlights. In Christ there is a vast arc of gospel fellowship among the living and the dead, all held in the present moment. We are one in Christ with so very many; and, if we can mature in their faith, we shall be given to see meaning in life. Rather than consider the millen-nium a milestone to be reached at a future date, a milestone that is being surrounded more and more by the massed choirs of the advertising media, why not stay where we are now in Christ and let the millennium (as indeed any circumstance) come to us? Always to be in the one place in Christ!--our center of gravity, our spiritual focal point, can only become more secure as we more and more see God giving himself to us there in Christ. This is where we are. We can then try to interpret circumstance through our risen Lord, knowing that, whether life is good or ill, we are never without the power of his resurrection or the fellowship of his suffering. Travel Light This is not to ~dvocate the passivity of a cow in the field. How could it when the reality of our life comes from our risen Lord who has made us his own? This is energizing, delightful presence, compelling us to be enlivened by it. Whatever a future calendar date brings, it cannot break that firm bond. Ultimately, it is all there is. We then want to make Christ really our own as he has made us truly his. For religious this should mean a hard look at our rule or founder's insight in the light of the gospel. We may have accumulated much. A mere middle-class lifestyle-- without the potentially maturing presence of husband, wife, or child--will not attract or challenge others. Should we not travel Review for Religious light to the millennium? Circumstances may be stripping us of much that we are attached to and find hard to give up, but we can nonetheless choose to drop even more. More has to be done to make our fellowship in the gospel a practical, reality. Arguably, the word community is heard now more than ever before, although there seems to be less of it. Religious profess to find God's will among a particular group of people. But only insofar as the risen Christ is real to them do imperfect individuals, living among others also imperfect and even dys-functional, have the courage to attempt this. If anything is to come of it, then, Christian maturity is essential. Without it we have nowhere to come home to--and indeed no one to be. It is no small achievement to welcome the millennium in the company of Christ and in full awareness that this company is all we have. How best to have this awareness in changing circumstances and amid lessening numbers is a problem. It is for different people to find various solutions in view of their temperaments and God-given gifts. No one can read the future, but, as T.W. Manson pointed out earlier, we are Christ's companions and the initiative of the entire gospel enterprise lies with him. There is no future for the maverick away from Christ. Inspirational individuals will always be found among those who habitually listen to the gospel, wishing to follow wher-ever it leads. Risk, challenge, and retrenching may be factors in an apostolate for the millennium. Community, it has been said, should be more like a hive than a nest. Ultimately, if the millennium finds us in Christ as the gospel understands this, we shall reflect his presence there. The pres-ence of Christ is the one ageless gift we have to offer. Circumstances change and situations sometimes frighten and even crucify, but the underlying reality for those who see with eyes of faith is the presence and power of our risen Lord. Here is where we live and move and have our being. We let life come and find us here. But we cannot do this complacently. We must foster a growing sense of awe and of our good fortune. The more real this awareness of presence is, the keener are we to share it with others. The sacraments (not least the Blessed Sacrament) are realities of presence, and we should try to share The presence of Christ is the one ageless gift we have to offer. d~lly-Augvtst 1998 Macdonald ¯ Towards the Millennium what we find there. They feed us as our life progresses. They are glimpses of life at the heart of our community, and they reflect mystery at the heart of reality. There is much more here than we can see, even graced by the insight of faith. As companions of Jesus, one with him and each other through baptism, we need to try to bring gospel fellowship to people in ways they can understand. Circumstances had Paul in prison miles away from his anxious people. To encourage him they sent one of their number. To thank them he wrote them a letter. They did what they could in less-than-ideal circumstances. Although cir-cumstances do not allow us to do all that we would like, we should not be discouraged from trying to do what we can with what falls into our hands. Remember, the initiative is from the presence and Spirit of our risen Lord. When we are open to his presence, we find we have a community; we have Someone to share. The millennium offers a challenge, and one of the best ways to meet it is for ourselves, our individual selves, to really make Christ our own and so try to be found always in him--and then to give from that center and invite others to meet Christ there. Our Lady and a cloud of saints once lived this life of faith, and, whatever the reasons for moving their statues from our churches and communities, we should again savor their company now in Christ. In the fellowship of the gospel, they can be real and not static presences. Many a secular idol will be worshiped as we approach the millennium. The Christian community can offer more than that. It was individuals sharing with others what they themselves had been inspired to see of the gospel who thereby inspired oth-ers so that even more followed and formed our various religious orders and congregations. We present-day members, perhaps feel-ing our lack of inspiration or vision, would do well to recognize our situation for what it is. If we are afraid, let us admit it, but let us not focus on fears without bringing to them the faith vision that so helped Paul and his people. For them this was no theo-retical exercise. It. could be equally real for us. "A loving knowl-edge of the word of God and a prayerful familiarity with it are specifically important for the prophetic ministry," says Pope John Paul. This echoes the conviction of the best in the church over centuries. This insight had and has now the power both to form an elite and encourage the frail. Review for Religious i G.K. Chesterton, The I~ctorian Age in Literature (London, no date), p. 12. 2 T.W. Manson, The Servant Messiah (Cambridge University Press, 1953), p. 98. 3 R. Rolheiser OMI, "The Last Word," The Catholic Herald (London), 4 July 1997. 4 Cardinal Basil Hume OSB, "Reflections on Leadership" (keynote address at Conference of Religious, 1997), Signum, 20 February 1997, p. 10. s John Paul II, Pastores dabo vobis, 1992. This and the next two quo-tations are from §47. Spirit Prayer Spiritt. Holy! Stirring birds and buds and Buddhists, Moving mothers, monks and Muslims, Turning wheels and churning waters, Shifting rocks and shaking ridges, Sweeping fields and forests, Raising bread and bodies, Spinning dreams and dancers, Whirling clouds and clowns, Filling sails and souls, sifting, Sounding, Singing, Sighing, Spirit, oht. Do what you do, Dance where you dance, Blow when you blow, Move us to move, To break from the laze of our days At the Word we have heard, With the Breath that will lift us from death. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ j~dy~August 1998 MARION NORMAN Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom: Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys pioneers Wisdom, which in biblical literature is usually personi-fied as a woman, is described in Proverbs 8:12-14 as "mis-tress of the art of thought" who shares house with Discretion; hates pride and arrogance, wicked behavior, and a lying mouth; and is a source of good advice, pru-dence, and perception. The Hebrew words for wisdom and wise man (hokhmah, Ex 36:2, and hokham, Jr 9:23) are used in various ways throughout the Old Testament to connote the skills needed to carry out tasks successfully. Hokhmah implies a deeper quality than cleverness, and hokham means not a clever know-it-all but a sage, one who, having acquired knowledge of the world and human nature, can penetrate to the depths of the human situa-tion, seeing it as a whole and then sharing that vision by giving prudent advice or immortalizing it in the form of proverbs or aphorisms. The prophet Jeremiah declares, "Let not the wise man (hokham) glory in his wisdom; neither let the mighty man glory in his might." In rabbinic literature, however, the wisdom of Proverbs has come to refer to the "wisdom of the Torah,". and the wise man now becomes the scholar Marion Norman IBVM (Loretto Sisters) presented this paper, here slightly revised, at the International Mediaeval and Renaissance Conference in Banff in May 1997. Her address is Loretto College; 70 St. Mary Street; Toronto, Ontario MSS 1J3; Canada. Review for Religious well versed in the Torah. The identification of Torah with wisdom dates from Deuteronomy (4:4-6): See I have imparted to you laws and rules, as the Lord my God has commanded me, for you to abide by in the land which you are about to invade and occupy. Observe them faithfully, for that will be proof of your wisdom and dis-cernment to other people, who on hearing all these laws will say, "Surely that great nation is a wise and discerning people." Thus, from originally implying little more than technical abil-ity, wisdom took on moral and religious connotations. In time it became synonymous with reverence for the Lord, as expressed in the Book of Proverbs: "Reverence for the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction" and "Let your trust be in the Lord. to show what is right and true" (Pr 24:7, 22). Hebrew wisdom was not alone in leaving its indelible mark on Western culture. Greek and Roman wisdom (usually referred to as philosophy) played a significant role as well, as did the leading Hellenistic philosophers, who claimed to teach their disciples how to live by providing moral instruction about what was right and wrong and how best to carry out their duties as individuals and in social relationships. Early Christianity perceived a certain affinity between its own aims, as expressed in the Sermon on the Mount, and those of Judaism and the best Greco-Roman philosophies. All three strains had a great influence on Western culture and, at the time of the Renaissance, came together to provide the intellectual, social, and religious context for the kinds of wisdom exemplified by the two 17th-century women of wisdom who are the subjects of this study. My selection of them has not been arbitrary. That the Bible even more than the Greco-Roman classics has' been the principal source of inspiration for both readers and writers of English lit-erature has long been recognized. Little wonder, then, that the biblical ideal of wisdom was carried over into the conduct of peo-ple's daily lives. This was particularly true of women, who, deprived of formal education in the s~ven liberal arts (reserved almost exclusively for males), relied on biblical primers and the Bible itself as their sole textbooks. We read, for instance, of female servants, shopkeepers, and housewives, especially among the Puritans, painfully acquiring a knowledge of the original biblical July-Aug'ust 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom languages for better access to the scriptural message. And, with the greater availability of biblical texts since the invention of printing and the Reformers' stress on the Bible as the "sole rule of faith," reliance on individual inspiration assumed central sig-nificance. The biblical concept of wisdom saw God as the source of wisdom for individuals seeking humbly to discover and imple-ment it as it was spelled out in the Torah. Each of these two 17th-century women received intimations of the direction in which the Lord was leading her, and, responding with docility and trust, received further clarification about God's plan for her in her own daily living. The response of Mary Ward (1585-1645) and Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620-1700) to God's invitation had implications both negative and positive. It meant, first of all, rejecting the usual pattern of marriage and family in favor of an exclusive conse-crated discipleship, freeing them for the service of the entire Christian community. This, in turn, involved a readiness to leave home and country if God asked it of them. Mary Ward For Mary Ward, at a moment in English history when adher-ence to the traditional religion was proscribed by the state and its preservation imperiled, the immediate need, as revealed to her by God and further discerned by experience, was for a total and free commitment to God that would flow out into love for oth-ers. She felt empowered to reach out to new needs and to devise whatever might be required to meet those needs. Inevitably, how-ever, the wisdom imparted in her close union with God in prayer entailed "the rejection, in whole or in part, of older, conventional patterns and methods that were no longer meeting new needs and situations. The clash between fidelity to divine guidance and official representatives of authority, as in the case of earlier bib-lical prophets like Isaiah and Jeremiah, was inevitable. Mary Ward's own response, which she constantly urged on her com-panions as well, was single-minded and unequivocal: "After busi-nesses I go to find myself in God, without any will or private interest and with a will only to have his will, which I cease not till I find."1 Mary understood this open and faithful orientation to God's will--desiring solely to love God and refer all actions to Review for Religious him--as adapting to the lives of consecrated women the lifestyle the church had already approved for Jesuits in their Formula insti-tuti. Precisely what this would entail was not revealed to her at once. In the first half of the 17th century, the cultural climate cre-ated by the Puritan and Parliamentary ascendancy brought forth a highly vocal group of educational reformers such as John Milton, John Dury, Marchmount Nedham, Samuel Hartlib, and Jan Comenius. At the same time the new scientific movement-- inspired by Francis Bacon as spokesman and promoted, under royal sponsorship, by the Royal Society of London--put Britain in touch with parallel interna-tional movements in France, Italy, and elsewhere. Voices of dissent were not failing, moreover, to speak out coura-geously on behalf of neglected groups of people--especially children of the poor and girls and women. These asserted, by their writings and actions, the rights of the counterculture against the prevailing climate of opinion, including the tendency to denigrate women. It is in the light of such conflicting views on the aims, con-tent, and methods of instruction that the enlightened and coura-geous leadership of women of wisdom like Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys should be seen. Although 17th-century politicians, theologians, and educational theorists were united in seeing the inadequacy of the current educational system to meet changing needs and priorities, they could agree on little else. Neither Francis Bacon nor John Milton apparently perceived women's education as necessary or even desirable. None seemed to see the value of preparing future mothers who would be responsible for the basic training of the young as future morally responsible and loyal citizens. For English Catholics the educational situation was particularly critical. Harassed politically, sodally, and economically and denied access to such employment as their rank and abilities deserved, they were crippled by taxes for nonattendance at Anglican services and threatened with imprisonment or death for possessing Catholic The biblical concept of wisdom saw God as the source of wisdom for individuals seeking humbly to discover and implement it. July-Aug~tst 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of V~dom books or providing accommodation to priests or Catholic instruc-tors. At an early age their children were forced to seek schooling on the continent, facing for up to nine years the loneliness, the foreign customs, languages, and climate, and the other handicaps of exile. Those without the necessary means were denied even basic instruction, while the care of the needy, the sick, the dis-abled, the aged, and the prisoners was entirely dependent on what-ever could be provided by families or individuals. Little wonder that the principal responsibility for transmission of and instruc-tion in the faith heritage devolved on the womenfolk and that, in the face of growing apostasy and indifference, a sound education for women as well as males came to be of crucial importance. Mary Ward, called by a recent historian "the greatest Englishwoman of the 17th century," was born at Mulwith near Ripon, Yorkshire, on 23 January 1585 (shortly before the defeat of the Spanish Armada) and died 30 January 1645 (shortly before the beheading of Charles I at the height of the Civil War). She came from a family noted for its staunch loyalty to the old reli-gion, which had been proscribed in England for more than sixty years. Failure to swear to the Acts of Supremacy and Succession and to attend services weekly in the local Anglican parish church made heads of families liable to imprisonment or even death. Mary's own parents and grandparents and she herself experienced such imprisonment, and several relatives were executed for their faith. The year before her birth, her fellow countrywoman, Margaret Clitherow, had been martyred at York. Like most children in such devout Catholic families, Mary received her early schooling and religious instruction in her own home and in homes of relatives and family friends. During those years she first felt the call to follow Christ in a life consecrated by vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Since the time of Christ and the Apostles (as can be seen in the New Testament), women as well as men had chosen such a way of loving discipleship. From the Middle Ages, too, despite the weight of authority against women's right to education or the exercise of leadership outside their own homes, a surprising quantity of writ-ings by women has survived. Exceptional women like Hildegard of Bingen and Catherine of Siena played prominent roles that changed the course of history, notwithstanding the patriarchalism of church and state. Until the early 17th century, however, women's accepted' mode of service of Christ, apart from that of "helpmeet" Review for Religiotts in marriage, was a lifetime spent in contemplation within monas-teries such as those of Poor Clares and Carmelites. After the dis-solution of religious houses in England, that meant for Englishwomen a lifetime of exile in some foreign climate. Prayerful discernment, as well as natural prudence and obser-vation, convinced Mary that the best way for her to give her life to the service of her "Friend of friends" would be, not marriage, but "some other thing., without all comparison more to the glory of God.-2 Further light came in November 1615 regarding the kind of holi-ness which that "other thing" would require. Rejecting the commonly held view that "women could not do good except to themselves," Mary envisioned a different kind of women's vocation, one engaged in education and other works "congruent to the times." Her institute would be one marked by "a singular freedom from all that could make one adhere to earthly things, with an entire application and apt disposition to all good works." Members would "refer all to God," doing "works of justice. [We would] be such as we appear and appear such as we are . Grounded in this, we should gain at God's hands true wisdom."3 Mary defined what came to be called her concept of "the Just Soul" in terms of three kinds of freedom: freedom from attach-ment to worldly values, freedom for all works of justice necessary in this world, and freedom to "refer all to God." Her words for this special kind of holiness ~'evealed to her were "freedom," "justice," and "sincerity" (or "verity"), the qualifies by which we as human beings participate in God's own life of goodness and wisdom, and which, she insisted, we have the right to ask and expect of God. What seems clear is that Mary, considering these three free-doms of "the Just Soul" to be the qualities essential for living out the ideal of Christian holiness as envisioned by Ignatius Loyola, could see nothing to prevent their application to women as well Mary defined "the Just Soul" in terms of three kinds of freedom: freedom from attachment to worldly values, freedom for all works of justice necessary in this world, and freedom to "refer all to God." ff'uly-Aug'ust 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of V~sdom as men. This became even more explicit in Mary's speech to her companions (1617) describing the virtues required for their way of life, of which a cleric had disparagingly said, "When all is done, they are but women." Mary's speech, because its depth of insight and vision for the future transcend her own institute and pertain to the whole concept of women's discipleship, deserves to be quoted: I would know what you think he meant by this speech . Fervor is a will to do good, that is, a preventing [preve-nient] grace of G~)d and a gift given gratis by God, which we could not merit. It is true [that] fervor doth many times grow cold, but what is the cause? Is it because we are women? No, but because we are imperfect women. There is no such difference between men and women. Therefore, it is not because we are women, but, as I have said before, because we are imperfect women and love not verity. It is not veritas hominum, verity of men nor verity of women, but veritas Domini, and this verity women may have, as well as men.4 Such was the vision that drove Mary Ward (after her two tri-als of the strictest form of women's contemplative life then known, the Poor Clares, both Flemish and English) and her five like-minded companions to cross the English Channel again in 1609. But Mary was a woman not only of vision but of practical common sense and ingenuity as well. Because at-the time both faith and morals were daily being eroded by ignorance and lack of access to the sacraments, the most pressing need seemed to be the provision of instruction for both children and adults. So, at St. Omer in the Catholic Netherlands, where there was a large English refugee population, they began educating, in secular and religious subjects, children of English refugees and the local poor. Their freedom from enclosure and from distinctive religious costume allowed them a helpful flexibility in their min-istry. They would sometimes wear fashionable dress when calling on gentlefolk (such as the archbishop of Canterbury, who had been desirous of meeting these ladies who had done "more harm than six Jesuits"), and sometimes "mean clothing" when visiting the prisoners or the sick (Mary Ward once disguising herself as a maid to gain access to a lady and bring her back to the practice of her faith),s Because adults, too, lacked instruction and often were destitute as well, the sisters extended their ministry to these further needs of those critical times.6 Review for Religious This new concept of religious life, freed of the restrictions of cloister, of government by male superiors, and of older male-inspired Rules, was so revolutionary that it proved both incomprehensible and unacceptable to ecclesiastical authorities steeped in the patriarchal assumptions of centuries. Today, when church and society are still trying to come to terms on the role of women, Mary Ward seems indeed a prophetic woman of wisdom in the Old Testament tradition. Unlike many visionaries, however, this woman had a vigorous practicality about her. What others said, Mary Ward did. Erasmus and Ftnelon said girls should be educated and, if they were above average intelligence, even taught some Latin as the key to all learning (though under male, direction, of course). Mary Ward opened schools in St. Omer, in Rome, and (under the very noses of pursuivants) even in London to provide education for all who desired it and, as far as they could, regardless of social distinctions. Guided but not bound by the Jesuit Ratio studiorum (1599), Mary believed that, since education is for life and a woman's life is not the same as a man's, the content should differ, though a woman's intellectual powers were by no means to be underrated. "God can use only good ones," she said of both teachers and pupils. So, in addition to the liberal arts and, of course, religion, her curriculum included painting, dancing, music (both vocal and instrumental), handwriting, speech training, drama, and modern languages. Language teaching was always a specialty in her schools, and for this no mere smattering would do, but only suf-ficient mastery to read the best authors of each language and to write it well.7 Originally most pupils were English refugees, but, as the schools spread throughout Europe, though English continued to be taught as a second language, the local vernaculars--French, Flemish, German, and Italian--were added. The nuns, who, as Mary Ward's Memorial of 1629 says, included '"Italians, Spanish, French, Germans, Netherlanders, Bohemians, Hungarians, English, and Irish," usually wrote to one another in Latin, Italian, or French (to make things harder for the English government's paid interceptors of mail). Another evidence of the foundress's farsightedness was that the syllabus included, besides the usual subjects, simple mathematics or "accounts." When one recalls that Samuel Pepys, secretary of the royal navy and a university graduate, required special tutoring to master the multiplication Norman ¯ Two 17th-Century Women of VV'tsdom table, this was very avant garde indeed, as was the inclusion of "globes," a combination of geography and astronomy. As her contemporary Richard Mulcaster had urged better training for teachers, so Mary trained hers so well as to attract the favorable notice of civil authorities (according to documents in the Brussels royal archives) and to elicit a request that she set up a training school for others. As prescribed in the Jesuit Ratio stu-diorum, Mary gave high priority to the teaching and supervision of educators. Writing to their novice mistress about two of her young sisters, Catherine and Cecilia, Mary insisted that their Latin studies should have precedence over everything except prayer and, as to fears that such studies would undermine humil-ity, she sensibly added: "This must and will be so common to all that there will be no cause of complaining." As an early memo in the archives expresses it, "The design of gur school being the sanctification of the mistresses who are members of it for the children of their care, they must be. proficient in writing and reading Latin and English."s The consequences of these high standards soon became so widely recognized that, as one Bavarian ecclesiastic expressed it, "The English Ladies. instill into both aristocratic and ordinary children a noble and well-mannered mode of living., so that they are kept with a loving restraint within the limits of good manners and propriety.''9 And, while the harsh treatment of chil-dren in English boarding schools was notorious even down to the 20th century, Mary advised: "In our calling, a cheerful mind, a good understanding, and a great desire after virtue are neces-sary, but of all these a cheerful mind is the most so.''1° Whenever a foundation was made, two schools were opened simultaneously: a boarding school, mainly for English refugee girls, and a free day school, the criteria for both being tractabil-ity, good manners, and the ability to profit from study rather than wealth or social position. In fact, because of the penury of many English refugees, fees were low and often totally remitted; in any case, they seldom kept up with inflation, especially in the countries affected by the Thirty Years' War. For the poorer chil-dren, especially those in the Italian slums, she provided training in skills that would enable them to earn an honest living, so much so that complaints arose that soon there would be none left to run the houses of ill fame. In imitation of what had been done ear-lier by St. Charles Borromeo, her sisters also ran Sunday schools, Review for Religious providing young servants with religious instruction, basic lan-guage skills, and preparation for the sacraments. And in England, where the priests had a price on their heads, both children and adults were made ready to receive the sacraments and opportu-nities were provided for them to do so. For the sake of mission, one member known only to the oth-ers as Sister Dorothea, living like members of modern secular institutes such as the Grail and Focolare, served as maid-com-panion in the home of the wealthy Suffolk gentlewoman Lady Timperley. Her own description of this ministry has a singularly modern ring: "I dare not keep schools publicly, as we do beyond the seas, . . . but I teach and instruct children in the houses of par-ents . Besides teaching of children, I endeavor to instruct the simple and vul-gar sort. I teach them their. Pater, Ave, Creed, Commandments, etc . I tend and serve poor people in their sickness., make salves., endeavor to make peace among those at variance."11 For the apostolate to spread, it soon became apparent that it needed to be put on a permanent basis and also needed official approbation beyond what it had already received from the local church and civil officials. Despite the often vituperative opposi-tion already encountered (especially from certain members of the Society of Jesus and the English secular clergy, who saw in her work a challenge to their authority), Mary set out with some con-fidence to win formal approval for her institute from three suc-cessive popes: Paul v, Gregory xv, and Urban VIII. Despite ill health, poverty, dangers, and cold, she made three trips on foot over the Alps to Rome to plead her cause in person before the committee appointed to examine her Formula instituti (virtually identical with that approved for the Jesuits).~2 But, though she explained at some length her primary purpose ("striving for the defense and propagation of the faith and progress of souls in Christian life and doctrine"), the means (a new kind of women's order without walls or distinctive clothing, engaged in education and other works congruous with the times), and the instruments (women, distinguished by their well-ordered interior disposition and the virtues of freedom, justice, and verity that characterize the "estate of justice"), these were considered dangerously novel ideas Mary gave high priority to the teaching and supervision of educators. ~7~nly-Aug~st 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom bordering on heresy with which the good but somewhat obtuse legalists of the time felt unable tO cope except by denial.~3 The foundress was imprisoned by order of the Inquisition, and the institute's way of life was declared contrary to the nature of women and a danger to morals.~4 The savagely worded bull of suppression of 1631 destroyed her first institute, and its members' vows were declared null and void. They were offered the alternatives of marriage, joining some other established order, or living as individual laywomen under private vows. When Mary pointed out the state of these young women, homeless, penniless, and in times of persecution unable to return to their own country, the pope offered them a house in Rome and, under his personal protection, allowed them to resume teaching in Rome, Naples, Munich, and even London and York.~s Mary herself, exonerated of all heresy, was allowed to return to her native country, where, in the midst of the Civil War, she spent the last six years of her life. She and her com-panions remained true to the institute and loyal in obedience to the church, and they continued to be highly commended by those for whom they worked.16 After her death at just over sixty, her tombstone in the Anglican churchyard at Osbaldwick bore this touching tribute: "To love the poore, persevere in the same, live, die, and,rise again with them, was all the aim of Mary Ward.''~7 How is the wisdom revealed by God to individuals to be rec-ognized when, as happened in the case of the Old Testament prophets and Mary Ward, it runs counter to legitimate authority by anticipating the future? Diversity, according to R.B.Y. Scott in his comprehensive study of biblical wisdom, has always attended this concept's evolution and its exemplars, the prophets, as well.~8 Inevitably, however, there is conflict when the fulfillment of the vision comes up against more limited goals and values and older ways of achieving them. Such was the case in the 17th century when it became increas-ingly apparent that the well-worn structures and familiar modes of acting were insufficient to meet the sudden and unexpected challenges in the church and in the world around it. Many were unable or unwilling to accept the fact that new kinds of service were needed to meet these new challenges. In particular, the attempt of the Council of Trent to turn the clock backward, in the case of women, by insisting on enclosure, distinctive clothing, and subjection to male authority severely hampered efforts to Review for Religious envision new forms of discipleship that would free women for more effective service of the church. Instead, they were con-demned as "pernicious growths" needing to be eradicated. Their apostolate, however, continued to grow fruitfully and to encour-age imitators. When official recognition finally came at the begin-ning of the 20th century, Mary Ward's institute had spread round the world to six continents. That Mary Ward was truly a "woman of wisdom," discerning, from her intimacy with God in prayer, the practical needs of her time and place and addressing herself to meet them with pru-dence and courage, was belatedly affirmed in Vatican II's docu-ment on the appropriate renewal of religious life, Pe~fectae caritatis, which reads in part: All those who are called by God to practice the evangelical counsels., devote themse!ves in a special way to the Lord. ¯ . . The religious life is intended above all else to lead . . . to union with God. [but] the manner of living, praying, and working should be suitably adapted to the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious and also . . . to the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, the social and economic circumstances anywhere, but especially in missionary territories." (§§ 1-3 passim) Marguerite Bourgeoys Marguerite Bourgeoys was born at Troyes in the province of Champagne in 1620, her youth overlapping the latter years of Mary Ward. At an early age she had a similar experience of God's intervention in her life and felt God's gradual imparting of the gift of wisdom. In 1626, to meet the critical need in that war-torn province for religious instruction and care ofthe needy, a saintly priest, Peter Fourier, organized four hundred volunteer laywomen to go out in pairs among the poor. Attached as externs to the cloistered Congregation de Notre Dame de Troyes, they lived lives of prayer as far as their other duties permitted. Under the supervision of Mme. Louise de Chomedey, a sister of Paul de Chomedey, Sieur de Maisonneuve, the founder and governor of Montreal, Marguerite became one of three prefects in charge of the group. When her desire for the life of a consecrated religious seemed doomed to frustration (both the Carmelites and another cloistered congregation having rejected her application), she pru-dently sought an experienced guide, M. Gendret, chaplain of the J~dy-August 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom Carmelites. He advised her, while awaiting further light on God's will for her, to consecrate her life by private vows of poverty and chastity.~9 In the spirit of the much-needed religious renewal initiated in the early 17th century by st. Vincent de Paul, M. Gendret had for some time envisaged a form of consecrated life for women adapted to the needs of the time, with a mobility that existing rules of enclosure did not allow. In Marguerite Bourgeoys he now recognized the spiritual and intellectual qualities that would be necessary to lead such an undertaking. A further providential intervention in her life came with her meeting Sieur de Maisonneuve in the home of his sister Mme. de Chevilly. He was visiting France to gather a hundred recruits to work in Montreal. Explaining the need for one teacher to supply the need of reli-gious instruction for his "foolish adventure," he invited Marguerite's help. Realizing partly what it might involve for her as the only woman among male recruits, Marguerite, after prayer and after consulting her spiritual director and the vicar general of the diocese (who gave the plan their blessing), perceived it to be God's will that she should go. Arriving at Quebec on 22 September 1653 and at Ville Marie (Montreal) on 16 November, she began at once a thorough assess-ment of the needs of her new mission, the (pitifully inadequate) resources to meet them, and the obstacles to be faced (such as inclement weather and threats from hostile Indians). Some notion of the risks may be gathered from the warning sent by the French-born mystic Marie of the Incarnation, of the cloistered Ursulines, who had been teaching both native and French children in Quebec since 1639. Writing to the sisters back in Troyes, she said: "If you knew what Montreal actually is like, you would be very careful about sending religious there . . . because of the harsh conditions of the country.''2° Marguerite and her compan-ions not only endured the cold, hunger, and dangers, but also shared their scanty living quarters with the poor, even giving up their own mattresses and blankets. In early-17th-century France, the notion of women religious engaging in apostolic work was only beginning to emerge. To meet the pressing needs of the spiritually illiterate general pop-ulation and the inadequately trained clergy, St. Francis de Sales and St. Vincent de Paul had enlisted generous, skilled women to serve in education, health care, and social work. At the price of Review for Reh~ious their obtaining ecclesiastical recognition, they had had to com-promise: the Visitandines accepting the restrictions of enclo-sure (and thereby qualifying as a religious order) and the Daughters of Charity becoming a society of apostolic life, a group of pious laywomen living in common under simple vows renewed annually. It was immediately evident to the prophetic insight of Marguerite Bourgeoys that neither alternative was desirable or suitable to meet the needs and living conditions of Montreal. Apart from teaching language skills and religion free of charge to both boys and girls of the French set-tlers and military people, there were native children to be edu-cated; adults to be instructed, counseled, prepared for the sacra-ments; and health needs cared for--along with the constant threat from hostile Indian raiders and rival English colonists to the south. The sisters supported themselves by doing laundry, sewing, and mending for families after the day's teaching in school.21 Declaring their readiness to undertake just about anything required to meet the social needs of frontier life, Marguerite and her companions (their number augmented by recruitment on subsequent trips back to France) determined with prudence and divine guidance to take steps to ensure the permanence of their work. The first step, dictated by Marguerite's solid bourgeois back-ground, was to obtain from the king a civil charter permanently entitling them to their place of residence, the abandoned stone stable given them by the governor to serve as their school and as the teachers' living quarters.22 Next they applied to and eventu-ally obtained from Bishop Laval ecclesiastical approval "to teach anywhere in his diocese." In both of these ventures, they received ample support from the laity, whose openhearted response to Marguerite Bourgeoys and her companions' concern for their family life and educational needs was generous and continuous. Evidence of this trust is seen in the young bride on the morn-ing after her wedding coming to weep on Marguerite's shoulder upon finding what was expected of her in marriage, and also in the The sisters supported themselves by doing laundry, sewing, and mending for families after the day's teaching in school. ~dy-Augwst 1998 Norman * Two 17th-Century Women of Wisdom adoption of a nine-month-old native baby who had been aban-doned by her mother and whom Marguerite cared for till she died at the age of six.23 In their practical attention to every aspect of the life of the church in Montreal, the tiny Congregation de Notre Dame, as they came to be called, was ready to meet needs as they presented themselves: premarriage counseling, witnessing of marriages, vocational training, adult education, home eco-nomics, visiting the sick, and preparing the dead for burial. Though they were intent upon living as religious so far as spirit, purpose, and prayer were concerned, it became increas-ingly apparent that their manner of observing common life and serving as disciples would have to be adapted to frontier condi-tions and to "the strengths and talents of each" rather than to preconceived ecclesial rules of enclosure. "If it is the will of God that I go to Montreal," Marguerite had said in response to Maisonneuve's invitation, "I shall want for nothing.''24 Marguerite's wisdom continued to be manifested in her response to divine guidance and providential care in each new enterprise. Her trust in God's will was, however, severely tested on more than one occasion as the years went on. Though provi-sionally approved by Bishop Laval in May 1669, their lifestyle received his official written approval only as "a community in the state of secular women, that is, not bound by enclosure."~s Their Rule, inspired by M. Gendret, which they had been liv-ing, had still to receive formal approval by the church, and for this Bishop Laval, because of the enclosure problem, was unwilling to apply. As Marguerite's biographer wryly ?emarks, the bishop had difficulty distinguishing between the will of God and that of Francois de Montmorency Laval.26 When, upon her return from France with six new recruits, Marguerite was greeted with the news that her community had disintegrated, she replied with calm confidence in God: "He who brings about its fall can very well raise it up again whenever he pleases.''27 When further contro-versy arose over the admission of new members (born in Canada, not France, and two of them aborigines), she felt no longer trusted and offered to resign. The result was an overwhelming reaffir-mation by the entire community of her leadership and special charism.2s Another aspect of Marguerite Bourgeoys's wisdom is reflected in her response to Laval's criticisms of her choice of new candi-dates and her recourse to experienced persons other than himself Review for Religious regarding the community's Rule. Though submitting with humil-ity, she prudently continued to consult the Sulpician directors of the Grande S~minaire, who fully endorsed her wise decision--a visionary missionary thrust far ahead of her time--not to impose a strange civilization on native converts. Her two guideposts, to imitate our Lady and live in the presence of God, fitted admirably into the concept of discipleship she bequeathed to her sisters as that of following la vie voyagOre of the Blessed Virgin. From M. Gendret's explanations long ago, she recalled the distinctions between the three states in which women could follow Christ and serve the church in these words: that of St. Mary Magdalen. observed by the Carmelites and other recluses and that of St. Martha by the cloistered religious who serve their neighbor; but that the outgoing life of the Blessed Virgin was not honored as it should be, and ¯. even without veil and wimple she could be a true reli-giousfl9 The term vie voyagOre (the equivalent of the modern English phrase "to be a pilgrim") seemed to imply, as Marguerite used it, a certain flexibility and adaptability in the service of others and going out into the world wherever there was need. If the first mark of the truly wise person is charity that reflects her close union with God, then it is especially in time of trial that it can best be judged. Such testing was Marguerite's. First came the disastrous fire of 6-7 December 1683, after which the community was reduced to literal destitution. But, when Bishop Laval seized the occasion to urge them to merge with the clois-tered Ursulines, Marguerite firmly defended the identity of her "journeying sisters," modeled on our Lady, Christ's first disci-ple. 3° When an impasse over business matters occurred, she sim-ply turned the whole matter over in prayer to her patroness with the words "Blessed Virgin, I can do no more.''3~ Again, when a visionary in her own community denounced her publicly as in "a state of damnation" and proposed founding a new institute with herself as head, Marguerite, although ready to acknowledge the possibility of having lost God's friendship, persisted in abandoning herself to his divine justice and charity. Her resignation and her replacement as chief superior by the first Montreal-born member, Marie Barbier, reflected both her humil-ity and her openness of spirit.32 At the same time, in trusting Canadian-born candidates and leadership instead of continuing to July-August 1998 Norman ¯ Two 17tb-Century Women of Wisdom depend on reinforcements from France, she was wisely investing in the permanence of her community in New France. The final ecclesiastical approval of the Rule was again to be made contingent on accepting enclosure, vowing obedience to the bishop, and requiring dowries. Though remaining obedient to the new bishop, Jean Baptiste de Saint-Vallier, Marguerite firmly and prudendy defended her original vision of the congre-gation's members as "daughters of the parish" and of the Blessed Virgin herself as their only superior.33 For the sake of survival, she had for the moment to submit to the bishop, and on 24 June 1698 the sisters finally accepted the approved Rules and next day solemnly pronounced their vows. But before her death (12 January 1700) she took care to record in her spiritual autobiography her original divinely inspired intuitions, 'with shrewd observations based on her lived experience and her hopes and fears for the continued existence of her congregation. Like the Ursulines and many other women's congregations of the Counter-Reformation peribd, this uncloistered community of Montreal agreed to modifications in their original Rule on condition that its underlying principles and, above all, their "out-going life" were not sacrificed. Their charism was summed up in the words of the foundress herself: When he ascended into heaven, our Lord left on earth a type of congregation of women which included all the states. Mary was its first superior . The Blessed Virgin, who was a teacher, included all the other things in her own per-son in an eminent degree. She was mother and teacher to the newborn church, which she formed and instructed in all kinds of good, by her words and by her example. Instruction and edification were her principal characteris-tics., particularly to teach in a way that was all the more profitable for everyone [and] within the reach of all.34 Models for Today What did these 17th-century women of wisdom have in com-mon, and of what relevance are their lives to ours on the eve of the 21st century? For answers we need to look at the very human and very universal situation underlying their lives. Each might be described (in terms applied to Joan of Arc by Joan Chittister, an eloquent defender of Christian feminism) as "a model of con-science development, a monument to the feminine relationship to Review for Religious God, and a breaker of the stereotypes that block the will of God."35 In every age, authority figures (usually male) have busied themselves with telling people what they should do, usually cloak-ing their goals in moral terms. Suddenly appears someone-- indeed, a woman!--who has a mission, someone who is bold enough to claim that God has revealed plans to her that may seem outrageous, someone who confronts them with a question greater than they are able or willing to handle and who is pre-pared to fight and even die for it if necessary so that truth may prevail and others may benefit. Mary Ward and Marguerite Bourgeoys were such women, role models for all who have heard the voice of God calling them to transcend the limitations of the present and enable freedom, justice, and sincerity (verity) to triumph everywhere and for all time. Notes a Mary Ward's Retreat Notes, 1619, unpublished collection. 2 Cited by Catherine Elizabeth Chambers, Life of Mary Ward, 2 vols. (London, 1882 and 1885), vol. 1, p. 227. 3 Letter to Roger Lee SJ, 1 November 1615, cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 346-347. 4 Cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 407-408. 5 Chambers, vol. 1, p. 407 and 217-224. 6 Letter of Bishop Blaise, cited by Chambers, vol. 1, pp. 319-320. 7 Chambers, vol. 2, p. 531. s Chambers, vol. 2, p. 249. 9Winkler MS, p. 20. ~°Cited by Chambers, vol. 1, p. 468. ~a Chambers vol. 2, p. 27. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. Chambers vol. 2, p. 387. 2, pp. 289-290. 2, p. 325. 2, p. 325. 2, p. 331. a7 Chambers vol. 2, p. 504. as R.B.Y. Scott, Relevance of the Prophets, rev. ed. (Toronto: Collier Macmillan, 1969), p. 13. 19 Patricia Simpson, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Montreal, 1640-166~ (Montreal: McGil!-Queen'~ University Press, 1997), p. 46. ~3~nly~Aug~tst 1998 Norman * Two 17tb-Century Women of l~tsdom 20 Cited by Simone Pgissant CND, Marguer~e Bourgeoys, trans. Frances Kirwan (Montreal: Les Editions Bellarmin, 1982), p. 34. 2~ Simpson, p. 160. z2 Simpson, pp. 117-118, 164-165. 23 Simpson, pp. 109, 126. 24 Poissant, pp. 23-24. 2s Poissant, p. 35. 26 Simpson, p. 175. 27 Poissant, p. 36 . 28 Poissant, p. 43. 29 Letter of Marguerite Bourgeoys to Louis Tronson, September 1693, "Ecrits de M~re Bourgeoys," p. 20, quoted by Elizabeth Rapley, The Dgvotes (McGill: Queen's Press, 1990), p. 101. 30 Poissant, p. 51. 3~ Poissant, p. 52. 32Poissant, pp. 53-55. 33 Poissant, p. 57. 34 Poissant, pp. 49-50. 3s Joan Chittister, A Passion for Life (New York: Orbis Books, 1996), pp. 127-129. Review for Religious MARY ROGER MADDEN A Path Traced Out: Providence in Mother Theodore Guerin's Life M~ther Theodore Guerin founded the Sisters of rovidence at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, Indiana, on 22 October 1840 and left her mark not only: on an extensive reli-gious congregation, but also--through the schools she established and the philosophy of education she fostered--on tens of thou-sands of lay men and women. Born 2 October 1798 in the village of Etables-sur-Mer, in the diocese of Saint-Brieuc, Anne-Th4r~se Gu4rin was the daugh-ter of Laurent Gu~rin, a naval officer in the service of Napoleon, and Isabelle Lefevre Gu~rin. She had two younger brothers, both of whom died in early childhood, and one younger sister, Marie Jeanne. Her mother taught her to read and write and instructed her in the basics of religion. When she was nine years of age, she attended a small school run by a pious laywoman of Etables. Anne- TMr~se learned quickly and was bored by the basic nature of the instruction. She would often slip away to the seashore, hiding herself among the rocks and cliffs. There, contemplating the vast-ness of the sea, she early learned to pray. A distant relative, a young seminarian forced to postpone his education because of the religious upheaval following the Revolution, came to live with the Gu~rin family. He served as Anne-TMr~se's tutor, calling her his "little theologian." Perhaps because of this advanced religious instruction, she was able to receive her first Holy Communion at the early age of Mary Roger Madden SP writes from Christina Hall; Saint Mary-of-the- Woods, Indiana 47876. 3~:uly-August 1998 Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out ten. At that time she confided to her confessor that she wished to devote her life to God. The kindly priest told her to pray and to be a good, obedient child and wait for God to open the way for her. The even tenor of the Gu~rin family life was disrupted when Laurent Gu~rin, on his way home to rejoin his family after being demobilized, was attacked by brigands, robbed, and killed. Isabelle, who had already suffered the loss of her father and one brother at sea and of her two infant sons by fire, was traumatized by this latest tragedy. She went into a complete physical and mental decline, leaving Anne-Th~r~se, then sixteen years of age, as the main support of the family. Anne-Th~r~se cared for her younger sister and nursed her mother back to health while supporting the little family with her sewing. She never abandoned her desire to devote her life to God. In 1823, when the younger sister had reached an age when she could be expected to take Anne-Th~r~se's place, Isabelle Gu~rin gave reluctant permission for her elder daughter to enter the Sisters of Providence of Ruill~-sur-Loir. This congregation, dedicated to the education of youth and the care of the sick. poor in their homes, had been founded in 1806 by Jacques-FranFois Dujari~, founder also of the Brothers of Saint Joseph, known today as the Brothers of the Holy Cross. A small and relatively obscure congregation, the Sisters of Providence were struggling to establish themselves in a country still reeling from the aftershocks of the Revolution. Anne-Th~r~se, who was given the name Sister Saint- Theodore, soon became a valued member of the family of Providence. Her novitiate had to be prolonged because she con-tracted typhoid fever as a postulant. When she appeared to be on the verge of death, the physician, frantic to save her, adminis-tered such severe remedies as to leave her with impaired health. Never again was she able to digest solid food. Because of her illness, her reception of the habit had been postponed until 5 September 1826; three days later she was per-mitted to take her first vows. She was sent at once to administer one of the most challenging of their missions in the city of Rennes. In 1828 the sisters elected her a member of the first general coun-cil to Mother Mary Lecor, the superior general, During the years at Rennes and later at Soulaines, her exper-tise as an administrator and a teacher was recognized by the Academy of Angers (Universit~ de France), which awarded her Review for Religious an honorary medallion in recognition of her excellence as an educator. In the summer of 1839, the sisters were gathered at the moth-erhouse for their annual retreat when they received a distinguished visitor. Celestine de la Hailandi~re, bishop of Vincennes in Indiana, came requesting sisters to teach the children of the pio-neers in his diocese. The superiors asked for volunteers from among the mem-bership. Although many sisters volunteered, Mother Mary found no one among them with the qualities nec-essary for the leader of such an expedition. She favored Sister Saint-Theodore, who, fearing that her chronic poor health would hinder the work of the mission, had not volunteered. On being told that the supe-riors would accept the mission only if she would lead it, she agreed to go to Indiana. After a turbulent journey of three months by sailing vessel, river boat, canal boat, and stagecoach, the sisters arrived on 22 October 1840 in a dense forest of Indiana. Located five miles from the fron-tier river town of Terre Haute, the little settlement had been named Saint Mary-of- the-Woods by Simon Brut4~ first bishop of Vincennes. Oral tradition has it that he remarked at the time to one of his com-panions, "You will see what great things will be done here." Arriving that dark, damp October evening, Sister Saint- Theodore and her five companions proceeded at once to the small log cabin that was both the dwelling place of the missionary priest and the temporary church. A partially completed building was intended by the bishop as a convent, but no school had yet been started. Waiting for them at the farmhouse belonging to the Joseph Thralls family were four young women who had come to join them. ~.~ The Thralls family turned over to the ten women one of the two rooms which constituted their home, along with half the loft. There they spent the first winter learning English, preparing classes for the opening of the school, and instructing the new members in the principles of the religious life. In November, Mother Theodore, as she was now known, with Sister Saint-Theodore, fearing that her chronic poor health would hinder the work of the mission, had not volunteered. Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out the help of the bishop and some of the money obtained from friends in France, was able to purchase the Thralls farmhouse for a Convent. She found the building planned for them by the bishop "too grand" for a convent and decided instead to open there a boarding school and academy to be called Saint Mary's Female Institute. In July 1841 classes began with five students, three of whom were not Catholic. Indiana's. educational system was in its infancy in the 1840s. Good education, especially for girls, was at a premium. Mother Theodore set about filling this need by establishing free schools side by side. with the popular female academies which were open to Catholic and non-Catholic alike. Despite her wretched health, she visited the schools regu-larly, traveling in the uncomfortable conditions of the day, in order to encourage and support the sisters. Their educational endeavors were conducted in the primitive one- or two-room buildings that often served as both school and convent. In order to compensate for the harshness of their living conditions, she brought them every summer to Saint Mary-of-the-Woods for rest, relaxation, study, and spiritual retreat. In the midst of her exhausting labors, Mother Theodore. suf-fered from constant humiliations and misunderstanding from her superiors both in France and in North America. At Ruill~ the superiors, who were never able to visit the mission in Indiana, had no concept of what the sisters suffered from the intemperate cli-mate, the bigoted populace, and the poor living conditions. Mother Theodore's frequent letters, though strictly factual, were dis-counted as "romances." It would be years before the superiors rec-ognized all that she had suffered. She, on the other hand, never faltered in her love and devotion to the French congregation and its superiors. In the United States, Hailandi~re was provoked by her resis-tance to his interference with the internal government of the con-gregation. He had told Mother Mary that he wanted the sisters in order that they might establish in his diocese the French reli-gious spirit. He praised their constitutions when he read them in France, but, when Mother Theodore attempted to put them into practice, he seemed to have forgotten his former approval. He wished to ,be the one to decide on the acceptance of postulants and the profession of novices; to move the sisters from mission to mission; to open and close missions (without consulting the sis- Review for Religious ters); and, in general, to act as the major superior of the congre-gation. Most disturbing to Mother Theodore was his desire to conduct all visitations of the missions, confining Mother Theodore to Saint Mary-of-the-Woods. His efforts to remove her from office by holding elections, even in her absence, failed; for the sisters simply united in unan-imously reelecting Mother Theodore. The climax came when, frustrated by her gentle but firm resistance, he went so far as to expel her from the diocese, threatening with excommunication any sister who harbored her or attempted to follow her.- This unjust treatment she bore with remarkable patience. In 1847, at the very hour when she was being expelled, an announcement from Rome arrived, accepting Hailandi~re's resigna-tion as bishop of Vincennes and appoint-ing Bishop Jean Bazin as his replacement. Bazin exonerated her and restored her to her congregatiom Mother Theodore's greatest legacy was the example of her love of God and neighbor, a dynamic self-giving that never flagged or slackened, from her girlhood on Brittany's shores to her death in the midst of the Indiana forest. Only a year before that death, she would write to Sister Saint-Athanase, one of the French sisters who had been a companion of hers in the novi-tiate: "How fortunate we are to have given the days of our youth to that God of love who gives us so much affection, and even more when we are old, infirm, and crippled than when we were young and robust." All her other virtues flowed from this ,one deeply held con-viction-- that God's love for her was unconditional. Her humility makes sense in light of her understanding of the mystery of the incarnation, by which the Second Person of the Trinity, for love of us, came to share our lowly estate. Her confidence in the provi-dence of God was nourished by that love. For her part, she saw the cross that marked her life for over fifty years as the mystic sign by which she rejoiced to return some part of that infinite love. In her concern for the p~oor and the ignorant, in her devo-tion to all her sisters, we see the authentic expression of love of neighbor. The love of God which welled up in her spilled over All her other virtues flowed from this one deeply held conviction-- that God's love for her was unconditional. 1998 Madden ¯ A Path Traced Out into the lives of everyone she met. She quickly forgave frailties of human nature that caused her suffering and endeavored to avoid inflicting similar sufferings on others. The last nine years of her life proceeded in relative peace and prosperity. By 1854 the congregation had grown to almost one hundred sisters, who were instructing over one thousand chil-dren in parish schools, academies, and orphanages in Jasper, Vincennes, Madison, Terre Haute, Fort Wayne, Columbus, and Evansville. At the motherhouse she built a four-story brick con-vent to replace the farmhouse in which they had lived since 1840. The heritage of devotion to the education of women contin-ues to be cherished by the Sisters of Providence down to the pres-ent day, when Saint Mary-of-the-Woods College, the oldest Catholic liberal arts college for women in the United States, stands on the site of that first small academy. Physically debilitated by her trials and the hardships of a pio-neer life, Mother Theodore died on 14 May 1856. Reports of her holiness of life spread both during her life and after her death. In December 1908 Francis Silas Chatard, bishop of Indianapolis, instituted proceedings for her canonization. On 11 July 1992 Pope John Paul II, in the name of the church, proclaimed the heroic virtue exhibited by the Servant of God, according her the title Venerable. On 7 July 1997 he formally accepted the first-class miracle needed for the process of beatification to go for-ward. The date of her arrival at Saint Mary-of-the-Woods, 22 October, will be celebrated as the feast of Blessed Mother Theodore Guerin, who said of her own life: "This is the path traced out by the providence of God. I follow it." According to Jean-Baptiste Caussade, "The life of each saint is the life of Jesus Christ. It is a new gospel." As we study the gospel God has written in the life of this valiant woman, we are confirmed in our confidence in the mysterious ways of God, which continue to instruct and enlighten us. Bibliography Belsen, Sister Anita Cotter, SP. Soitvenir of the Fiftieth Anniversary or Golden Jubilee of Saint Mary's Academic Institute. New York: Benziger Brothers, 1891. Brown, Sister Mary Borromeo, SP. History of the Sisters of Providence, Vol. I. New York: Benziger Brothers, 1949. Burton, Katherine. Faith Is the Substance. New York: Herder, 1959. Review for Religious Gonner, Sister Laurence, SP. "A History of the First Fifty Years of the Sisters of Providence in America." Master's thesis, Loyola University, Chicago, 1933. Guerin, Mother Theodore. Journals and Letters of Mother Theodore Gudrin. ed. S. Mary Theodosi

Issue 47.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1988. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published eveD' two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIG~OUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REwEw FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors July/August 1988 Volume 47 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rwv~v.w Eon RvJ.w.~ous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rwv~v.w FOR Rv.~,w, lous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Jesus and Francis as Gospel Makers: An Experience in Kenosis Jude Winkler, O.F.M.Conv. This paper is adapted from lhe keynote address of the 1987 meeting of the Inter-province Conference of the Conventual Franciscans. Father Jude is slationed al St. Hyacinth College and Seminary; Granby, Massachusetts 01033. When one speaks of Jesus and Francis as Gospel makers, one is led to ask exactly what is meant by the term "Gospel." Probably the best way to respond to that question is to consider the formation of a particular Gospel. This will help one to determine which material the community considered to be so essential, so central to the message of Christ that it was necessary to pass it down to future generations of Christians. The starting point, therefore, is an individual Christian community: the com-munity which produced the first Gospel, that written by the evangelist Mark. Although there are other opinions, most scholars believe that the Gospel of Mark was written in Rome around 70 A.D. How could one describe Rome and the Roman Christian community of those days? Rome was the center of the Western world. Wealth poured in from the empire, which stretched from the English Channel to the Syrian De-sert. In certain ways the city was reaching the apex of its magnificence. The ruins from the great fire under Nero had been removed and much 0f the city was being rebuilt, this time in marble and not wood. A sense of the glory of Rome can be found in chapter 18 of the Book of Revela-tion, where John speaks of the many products that could be bought and sold in that city. Yet there was also a certain amount of instability in the Roman psyche in 70 A.D. The previous decade had witnessed the forced suicide of Nero and the two-year period during which three different em-perors ruled the empire. The civil war which ensued had been as bad as 481 482 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 that which had followed the death of Julius Caesar, and it had left the empire badly shaken. As often happened in the ancient world, instabil-ity in Rome had led to rebellion in the provinces. One example of this is the fact that the Romans were only now crushing a troublesome rebel-lion in Palestine. In addition to this, the social fabric of the city had de-generated over the past several decades. Large numbers of slaves had been brought to Rome following the conquests of new territories. Be-cause there were so many slaves to do work which had formerly been done by members of the lower middle class and the artisans of Rome, large numbers of people had been put out of work. These unemployed masses were fed by the public dole and kept occupied by the spectacles sponsored by the government (the proverbial bread and circuses). Thus, even though imperial power was great and the empire would soon reach its greatest expanse, there was something unsettled in the Roman char-acter. Essentially, the city was socially, morally, and spiritually bank-rupt. This is most evident in the fact that large numbers of Romans were participating in various mystery cults that had arrived from the east. They were looking for something which would give their lives purpose. And what of the Christian community of Rome? The community had been founded as early as the forties during the reign of Emperor Claudius, but it was not yet very large. The first missionaries to Rome were probably Jewish Christians from the Jerusalem community. This young church had suffered persecution: an edict had been issued by Claudius which expelled certain Jews (most probably the Jewish Chris-tians) from Rome because of difficulties caused by a troublemaker named Crestus (most probably a form ofChristus = Christ). Recently there had been the persecution under Nero in which both Peter and Paul are said to have died. Further complicating the situation was some internal dis-sent in the community: From what can be gleaned from Paul's Letter to the Romans, it is obvious that there was a bit of tension between those who had allied themselves with a more Jewish interpretation of the Chris-tian life and those who followed Paul's ideas. Add to that the fact that most of the new converts in the city were now coming from the Gentiles (and would thus be less likely to defend the old Jewish ways) and one can see that there was bound to be some confusion. And now, some forty or fifty years after the death and resurrection of Jesus, another crisis was facing this fledgling church: the apostles and the disciples who had known Jesus were dying. One after another the wit-nesses to the Christ event were passing from the scene. This would be especially frightening in a time of instability. For the Jewish Christians Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 41~3 of Rome, there was the confusion of the Jewish rebellion in Palestine which had resulted in the destruction of the temple. The building which they had called the dwelling place of God on earth was now a ruin, and the Jewish Christians did not know what to make of this. Would Juda-ism continue? For the Gentile Christians, there was the political and so-cial instability. For,the entire Christian community, there was the uncer-tainty of which direction the Church was taking. Would it remain a Jew-ish sect or would it become something radically new? What would unify the Church and give it stability? It was in this context that the Gospel of Mark was produced. Its author, whether or not he was actually the John Mark mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, wrote it so that the Gospel message of what Jesus had done and said, of how he had died and rose, might be passed down. His Gospel would become the ballast which steadied the course of the Roman church in those troubled times. ¯ Given all of this, one would certainly have some expectations about how this Gospel would present the character of Jesus. If the Gospel were intended for the Jewish-Christian audience, one would expect Jesus to be the perfect fulfillment of all the Old Testament prophecies. He would be the Messiah whose power was greater than that of the Romans. If the Gospel were intended for the pagans, then Jesus would have to be at least as great as the pagan gods. Mark would have to show, as did Moses and Elijah, that the God of Israel was far superior to the gods of the Gen-tiles. For either audience, this Jesus would have to manifest his power and authority openly, for the people needed a wonder worker, a great hero who would give them hope in these troubled times. And yet, oddly enough, this is the exact opposite of the Jesus pre-sented by the Gospel of Mark. While one would expect a powerful and glorious Messiah, Mark presents one who is weak and lowly, one who has embraced an emptying Out (kenosis) of his divinity, as Paul describes it in the Letter to the Philippians when he speaks of Jesus who had been in the form of God but who emptied himself by becoming human and even dying on the cross. This idea is presented ina number of ways in the Gospel, but the most evident is the so-called Messianic secret. Over and over again Jesus commands his disciples and the demons whom he has expelled to be silent concerning the fact that he is Messiah. Why should he do that when the entire purpose of the Gospel is to show that he is, in fact, the Messiah? The reason is that his audience has the wrong idea of what it means to be the Messiah. They want a political Messiah who will manifest himself in power. Jesus is not that type of Messiah, 484 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 and he refuses to be categorized in that way. Peter's profession of faith at Caesarea Philippi makes that clear. Je-sus has asked his disciples who people think that he is. Peter responds that some think that he is a prophet and others that he is John the Bap-tist. He then asks Peter who he thinks he is. Peter responds that he is the Messiah. Jesus commends him on this and then describes how the Mes-siah will have to suffer and die. When Peter hears this, he cannot be-lieve what Jesus is saying. He is sure that the Messiah will become a king and that he, Peter himself, will rule with him. Here Jesus is predicting defeat. This is too much for Peter; it is obviously a bad mistake. So Pe-ter takes Jesus aside and tells him not to say these things. Jesus responds harshly, telling Peter to get behind him .and calling him Satan, the tempter; This misunderstanding by the apostles is repeated again in later chap-ters when Jesus again predicts his passion. Once, as a response to the prediction, the apostles argue about who the greatest among them might be while another time James and John ask to be seated at his right and left when he comes into glory. He is telling them that he will die, and all they are interested in is to divide his inheritance. Why do the apos-tles and even the family of Jesus speak in such an inappropriate man-ner? Why do they have such a difficult time understanding who he is and what his being Messiah means? Basically it is because their entire con-ception of God is mistaken. They think that God will come in power on the Day of the Lord to defeat the powers of evil, such as the Romans and the Pharisees. Instead, Jesus defeats them in weakness. As John would later state, Jesus was the king who ruled from a tree, the cross. It was exactly in this emptying out that evil was defeated, for while the powers of evil clung to power and tried to exercise it over others, Jesus clung to love and wanted to share it with all. That is the point behind the temptations of Peter and the apostles as well as the temptation in the desert. Even the taunts with which the crowd jeered Jesus, that he should come down off the cross, are a call to power. If Jesus had come down from the cross, he would have shown himself to be God almighty, but since love necessarily involves a sacrifice of self, he could not have shown himself to be loving. The author of the Book of Revelation presents this same idea with the images of the lion and the lamb. In the Book of Revelation, that which one sees is that which is superficial while that which one hears is the spiritual significance. John sees a lamb which was slain, and he hears that it is the lion of Judah. This lion of Judah was one of the fa- Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 485 vorite symbols for the Messiah in the Old Testament. The lion of Judah was a symbol for power. A lion conquers by tearing apart its enemies, and this was what the Messiah was supposed to do--defeat his enemies with power. This particular lion is different, however, for it will con-quer by dying. This becomes evident when one realizes that this lion is also the lamb who conquered evil by allowing himself to be slain. In other words, all of the Old Testament prophecies concerning the Mes-siah in which he is seen as a powerful conqueror are turned on their head. He would not be a paradigm of power but rather of powerlessness. This is the greatest of the ironies of the Gospel message. This einptying out of oneself is not only intended for the Messiah, but it is an open invitation and a necessary prerequisite for a life of dis-cipleship. Unless you take up your cross and follow me, you cannot en-ter the kingdom of God. If you would save your life, you must lose it. Sell all you have, give it to the poor, and then come, follow me. The consequences of such a surrender are frightening, for it means a loss of control. It means living totally for and in another and never being sure where the life of discipleship will lead one, The foxes have their lairs and the birds (Jr the air have their nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head. But he who had invited them to this life of radical faith was himself faithful. The very fact that he allowed his story to be told in this Gos-pel, the fact that his living spirit infused these human words with that which was divine, proved that he would never abandon his loved ones. For these words, the words of the Gospel, were inspired, and this inspi-ration was itself an example of kenosis. Theologians sometimes speak of inspiration as if the Holy Spirit were an executive dictating a letter to a secretary, the evangelist. But this image does not respect the human dimension of the process or the great love expressed by God in allowing his word to undergo a kenosis. Msgr. Edelby, who spoke at the Second Vatican Council, suggested another model: Just as the Holy Spirit entered into Mary and joined the eternal Word of God with that which was human and thus produced the Word made flesh, so also the Spirit inspired (breathed into) those who wrote so that the eternal Word of God entered into that which was hu-man, their human ability to write and their own talents and energy and purpose, and they gave birth to the word made flesh, this time the Gos-pels. In other words, the divine word of God became enfleshed in hu-man words with all that that means. It was st~bject to the weakness of human expression. One example of this is the horrendous literary style 486 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 of the Gospel of Mark. Unlike the other Gospels, it is a pasting together of various preexistent sources that barely become a narrative. One would almost think that it was written by a high school freshman writing his first term paper. He went and photocopied twenty or so articles (or, in this case, preexistent sources), cut out the important sections, and stuck them together with his glue pen. And yet this Gospel contains the eter-nal word of God. What greater sign of love could God give this commu-nity, what better way to guide them in this time of confusion? God was clearly showing the community that he would work in and through weak-ness. And the miracle of God's love does not even end there. Just as the eternal Word of God joined with that which was human in Mary and be-came the Word of God made flesh, and just as the eternal word of God joined with that which was human in the literary talents of the evangel-ist and became another manifestation of God's kenosis, so his word, the Gospel message, joined that which was human, the individual Christian of the community, to become a new manifestation of God's presence, his body, the Church. The community, insofar as it cooperated with the grace of God, became a continuation of the IncarnationS:'~ What are some of the consequences of this fact? One of the most im-portant is that, in combining with the human, the word of God necessar-ily assumed the weakness of that condition. God did not reject the hu-manity of the believers as the Gnostics and Docetists would have it, but he transformed that humanity so that it was to be that which God in-tended it to be. A practical application of this principle is to spirituality. We are not so much called to be perfect as to be faithful. If we were to seek to be perfect, freed from all weakness, we could very well be try-ing to control our own destiny and to show God that he owes us some-thing, that is, love, salvation, and so forth. In trying to be faithful, we admit our weakness and rely upon God's mercy and love, which enables us to do what we really cannot do on our own. Which raises a second consequence: In order to manifest God's pres-ence, we must surrender. Let it be done to me according to your word. Each believer is called to empty himself of that which is selfish, that which bespeaks control, and to place himself in the Lord's hands. We are to undergo metanoia. As was said before, that can be frightening, for we would like to know where we are going. We like to think that given the right formula, given the right therapist, and so forth, we could do it (a subtle form of Pelagianism). But the crucial message of the Chris-tian experience is that the believer really cannot make it, that sooner or Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 41~7 later we will hit the wall and realize that we are all fundamentally weak, broken, unable to save ourselves. When we finally admit that we are anawim, the lowly ones, and we reach out, it is then that we will allow the Spirit of the Lord to inspire us (to send his life-giving breath into flesh which was all but dead). Finally, one of the most disturbing consequences of this process is the fact that we are so human, even as a faith community. Who of us would not prefer to live among people who were more spiritually ma-ture, who would support us in our weakness and be perfect companions for the journey? Instead, what do we get--all too often we are the blind leading the blind. To the human eye, this community of ours barely looks like Christ incarnate, but to the eyes of faith it is obvious. Consider Mark's portrayal of Jesus and the apostles' difficulty in recognizing him as Messiah--it is the same difficulty we have in seeing Christ in our com-munities, which are so often so fleshly. And yet he is there, and if we put aside our prejudices and we become weak, we will see him. The New Testament saw this process of becoming a manifestation of the kenosis of Christ and speaks of it at length. Paul calls the believ-ers ambassadors of Christ in 2 Corinthians. The Acts of the Apostles serves as the second volume of the Gospel of Luke to show how this con-tinuation of the Incarnation provoked a response of faith among those who would listen. And then there are the Johannine writings, which are even more intimate. Everyone knows that love is one of the central themes of the Gospel of John, but some of the richness of that message is sometimes lost be-cause one fails to recognize all of the symbolic messages contained in the Gospel. For John and the author of the Book of Revelation, Christ is the bridegroom and the Church is his bride. Each follower of Christ, as a member of that Church, is to produce heirs for Christ. An example of this emphasis is the story of the woman at the well. This well story is actually a clever use of a leitmotif. A leitmotif is a set literary pattern that one finds throughout a literary work. One example is the set pattern that one would expect to find at the end of a western movie: the hero rides off into the sunset. The well stories are a leitmotif of the Old Testament. One meets one's spouse at a well. Isaac meets Re-bekah there (through Abraham's servant), Jacob meets Rachel, Moses meets Zipporah, and Ruth meets Boaz. Furthermore, one can tell what is important in the story by small changes in the set pattern. The normal pattern is that a man comes to the well, meets a woman who offers him water, and they decide to marry and live happily ever after. In the Jacob 488 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 story, however, Jacob must first uncover the well, for it is covered by a heavy stone (a sign of his difficulty in being able to marry her). With Ruth, it is the man who offers the woman water, for she is a foreigner and is being invited into the people of Israel. What of the Samaritan woman at the well? Sheis intended to be a symbol for the bride of Christ, the Church. Like the Church (and Israel), she has been married five times before, chasing after any god who offered her what she wanted. The woman offers Jesus water, but he offers her a different water, one that signifies the spiritual life that he would give her. They would not cling to each other in human form (as did the Jews in Jerusalem and the Sa-maritans on Mount Gerazim), but would live a spiritual marriage. Their marriage would be fruitful, for she would become a spring which would overflow (a spring or well being a symbol of her'womb which would pro-duce many children for the Lord). A second series of text.~ carries this message under the form of vo-cabulary taken from the Song of Songs. The Song of Songs is an Old Testament work which speaks of a very sensual love between a man and a woman. Even in Old Testament times it was interpreted as represent-ing the love of Yahweh for his people Israel. Two pericopes in the Gos-pel of John use that vocabulary extensively to remind the reader of that love. The first is when Mary anoints Jesus with oil in chapter 12 and the other is when Mary Magdalene searches for her beloved, the Lord, in chapter 20. Again, the message is clear in both: The women represent the Church which would be united to Christ in a spiritual marriage (that is, the order to Mary Magdalene not to cling to him for their marriage is not physical). Finally, there is a series of texts based upon the Old Testament levirite marriage institution. This institution was an attempt to ensure a progeny for a family. If a man died and had not produced a male child, then his next of kin would marry the widow and the first male child of this union would be named after the deceased husband. If the next of kin refused to marry her, she would take him .before the elders of the city and untie his sandal and spit in his face, saying that this was what a man deserved who would not give a descendant to his brother. John the Bap-tist, when asked whether he was the Messiah, responds that he is~not wor-thy to untie his sandal. This is not only a proclamation of humility; it is a message that he has no right to marry the widow (Israel, which had treated God as if he were dead). Jesus is the next of kin, and he will pro-duce an offspring. In fact, John speaks of how he rejoices at the voice of the bridegroom and he speaks of how that bridegroom must increase. Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 489 The word used when he speaks of how Christ must increase is the same word as that used when God tells humans to go forth and multiply in the Book of Genesis. In other words, John the Baptist is giving the best man's toast at a wedding, for he is wishing that Jesus have many chil-dren. But does Jesus have children? He really does not have any children during his lifetime, which explains another scene. Jesus tells his mother that John is to be her son, and he tells John that Mary is to be his mother. He is adopting John so that he (and the apostles) may bear children in his name (for they would, in fact, be called Christians). And when does Christ marry the Church? There are three possibili-ties. One of them is Pentecost, when the Spirit gives life to the Church. The Fathers of the Church also speak of two other possibilities. One of them is the Baptism of Jesus, when the Spirit comes upon Jesus in the form of a dove. Why a dove? Because it is a sign of love ("my little turtledove"). This is the love of Jesus and his Church. Still a third pos-sibility is on the cross. How do the first man and woman (Adam and Eve) marry? God took a rib from his ~side and formed woman. And the sol-dier pierced his side with a lance and immediately blood and water flowed out, the signs of his sacramental love for his bride, the Church. This message that Christ is our groom is sometimes distasteful to some males. Yet the image is not only operable but is profound as long as one leaves the image a bit vague. When we allow Christ's Spirit to enter us, we become one with Christ. Isn't that, after all, the purpose of the Eucharist? We take his flesh and make it one with our own. And the two of them shall become one flesh. In other words, the Eucharist is making love with God. And that union has to be fruitful, producing many offspring. Jesus: the union of the eternal Word of God and created flesh. The Gospel: the union of the eternal word of God and human lan-guage. The community: the union of the eternal Word of God and weak in-dividuals, each becoming a manifestation of Christ's presence. And what did all of this mean for Francis of Assisi? Francis was born in an age in which the kenosis of the eternal word of God had been deem-phasized. Historians speak of two major reasons for this deemphasis. The first has to do with the Arian heresy, which overemphasized the human-ity of Christ to the detriment of his divinity and which refused to recog-nize Jesus as the equal of God the Father. As a reaction to this heresy, many in the Church centered in upon the glory of the eternal Lord Je- 490 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 sus. A second reason for the situation was the social conditions of the time: the feudal system. People tended to pattern their God upon the po-litical reality of the day, and so they made Christ into a feudal Lord who was to be obeyed, and not so much loved. Francis himself was a product of his age. This can be seen in his first futile attempt at conversion when he had a dream that he was to serve a great lord. He naturally interpreted this as a call to fight in one of the many wars for the cause of the Lord occurring in his day. He saw this call as a call to po~ver. It was only when he came to know his Lord that he realized that the call was actually one to powerlessness. It was no accident that his con-version is intimately tied to his vision of the crucifix speaking to him. In coming to know the Lord who empties himself of power and glory, he was able to recognize the need to surrender to the will of that Lord, to become smaller and humbler. As in the days of the origin of the Gos-pel of Mark, the opposite would have been expected. There were great upheavals o.ccurring in the world: political, economic, and religious. Fran-cis could have been expected to search for a model based upon a great emperor or a successful burgher or even the lofty Holy Father, but he chose none of them. He chose instead a Lord who became flesh and let that flesh be nailed to a tree. And because his Lord had emptied himself of power, Francis felt him-self called to do the same. He would strip himself of his father's clothes so that he could belong to the Lord alone. He would lay aside even those most deeply rooted prejudices such as his loathing of lepers and see them as children of God. Bonaventure reports: "Francis now developed a spirit of poverty, with a deep sense of humility and an attitude of pro-found compassion. He had never been able to stand the sight of lepers, even at a distance, and he always avoided meeting them, but now in or-der to arrive at perfect self-contempt he served them devoutly with all humility and kindness, because the prophet Isaiah tells us that Christ cru-cified was regarded as a leper and despised. He visited their houses fre-quently and distributed alms among them generously, kissing their hands and lips with deep compassion." In this surrender Francis went beyond the service of an ideal. He was not so much striving after perfection as being a man in love, for Francis had fallen head over heels in love with his God. He, like John the Evan-gelist, interpreted the kenosis of his Lord as an act" of unreserved love, and he wanted to respond in a like manner. He recognized, too, the con-tinuing kenosis of our Lord in his word and in the sacrament of his body Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 491 and blood. He had great devotion to the presence of God in his word. He wrote the following to a general chapter of his friars: "I urge all my friars and I encourage them in Christ to show all possible respect for God's words wherever they may happen to find the.m in writing. If they are not kept properly or if they lie thrown about disrespectfully, they should pick them up and put them aside, paying honor in his words to God who spoke them. God's words sanctify numerous objects, and it is by the power of the words of Christ that the sacrament of the altar is conse-crated." He believed that this word was effective, for he knew that it was a manifestation of the eternal word of God. As 2 Celano reports, "he often said that a man would easily move from knowledge of himself to a knowledge of God who would set himself to study the Scriptures hum-bly, not presumptuously." Likewise, knowing that the sacrament of the Eucharist is a continu-ation of the Incarnation and thus of the living kenosis of his Lord, he held it in greatest esteem. He admonished his friars over and over again to honor and respect that presence. His letter to all clerics is a good ex-ample: "We clerics cannot overlook the sinful neglect and ignorance some people are guilty of with regard to the holy body and blood of our Lord Jesus Christ. They are careless, too, about his holy name and the writings which contain his words, the words that consecrate his body. We know his body is not present unless the bread is first consecrated by these words. Indeed, in this world there is nothing of the Most High him-self that we can possess and contemplate with our eyeslexcept his body and blood, his name and his words, by which we were created and by which we have been brought back from death to life." Francis, being thus in love with his Lord, did not limit his recogni-tion of the presence of the Lord to these signs. Bonaventure states that in everything beautiful he saw him who is beauty itself, and he followed his beloved everywhere by his likeness imprinted on creation. He saw a worm and thought of how the words of the suffering servant of Yah-weh were applied to Jesus, "I am a worm and not a man." He saw a lamb and remembered the lamb of God who died for his sins. He saw a bird or a fish and felt compelled to preach to it. Being one with his Lord, he saw him everywhere and in everything. And being one with his Lord, he shared his goals. Bonaventure re-ports that "enlightened by a revelation from heaven, Francis realized that he was sent by God to win for Christ the souls which the devil was 499 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 trying to snatch away. And so he chose to live for the benefit of his fel-low men, rather than for himself alone, after the example of him who was so good as to die for all men." And like all loves, that of Francis and his Lord was fruitful. As John the Evangelist had done in his Gospel and its matrimonial symbolism, Francis exhorted the friars to produce offsprin~ for the Lord. He states' this in his letter to all the faithful: "We are to be servants and should be subject to every human creature for God's sake. On all those who do this and endure to the last, the Spirit of God will rest; he will make his dwelling in them and there he will stay, and they will be children of your Father in heaven, whose work they do. It is they who are the brides, the brothers, and the mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ. A person is his bride when his faithful soul is united with Jesus Christ by the Holy Spirit; we are his brothers when we do the will of his Father who is in heaven, and we are mothers to him when we enthrone him in our hearts and souls by° love with a pure and sincere conscience, and give him birth by doing good." The love affair of Francis and his God went even beyond this most intimate moment, though, for Francis was seen not only to produce off-spring ~or his God, but he came to be seen as a living sacrament of the presence of God. This is especially true in his stigmata. Bonaventure re-ports, "The fervor of his seraphic longing raised Francis to God and, in an ecstasy of compassion, made him like Christ, who allowed him-self to be crucified in the excess of his love. Then one morning about the feast of the exaltation of the holy cross, while he was praying on the mountainside, Francis saw a seraph with six fiery wings coming down from the highest point in the heavens. The vision descended swiftly and came to rest in the air near him. Then he saw the image of a man cruci-fied in the midst of the wings, with his hands and feet stretched out and nailed to a cross. Two of the wings were raised above his head and two were stretched out in flight, while the remaining two shielded his body. Francis was dumbfounded at the sight, and his heart flooded with a mix-ture of joy and sorrow. He was overjoyed at the way Christ regarded him so graciously under the appearance of a seraph, but the fact that he was nailed to a cross pierced his soul with a sword of compassionate sor-row." He was lost in wonder at the sight of this mysterious vision. He knew that the agony of Christ's passion was not in keeping with the state of a seraphic spirit, which is immortal. "Eventually he realized by divine inspiration that God had shown him this vision in his providence in or- Gospel Makers and Kenosis / 493 der to let him see that, as Christ's lover, he would resemble Christ cru-cified perfectly not by physical martyrdom, but by fervor of the spirit." And Bonaventure later adds, "True love of Christ had now transformed his lover into his image." It was no wonder that when Francis appea~-ed after his death to some of the friars, they asked each other whether it was Christ or Francis, for, as Celano reports, it seemed to the brother and all the great multitude that Christ and Blessed Francis were one and the same person. And so, as with the apostolic community, the early Franciscan com-munity was founded upon and became a manifestation of the kenosis of Christ. It celebrated his kenosis in his incarnation and passion; it es-teemed highly his continued kenosis in the sacraments of his body and his word; it became itself a manifestation of Christ's kenosis. Francis and each member of the community recognized that they were weak and lost, but when they were filled with the life-giving Spirit of God, they became fruitful and even sources of life. Having emptied themselves of pride, they never attributed that new life to themselves, but were always con-scious of how God had worked a miracle of love in them. They were so in love with the Beloved that they became his image. That is today's challenge. When we look at the example of Jesus and Francis and how each embraced a kenosis, we realize what we are to do. We are to empty ourselves of that which closes us off from God and each other. We do this by our own kenosis through listening, understanding, and challenging. We are to allow the life-giving Spirit of God to unite with our °weak and fragile self so that we may be healed or, even more precisely, be recreated in his image. We want that union of spirit and flesh to be fruitful as it was in Christ and Francis so that we can invite, so that we can make children for Christ. Finally, one of the most important ways of engendering children for the Lord is to tell our stories to each other. If we remember how the ap-ostolic community became a manifestation of Christ's presence, as did Francis and his followers, then we will fully appreciate the sacredness of sharing our experiences and our vocation stories. Our lives, insofar as we have cooperated with the grace of God, in spite of our great weak-nesses and very often through those very weaknesses, are manifestations of the kenosis of God. He has entered us and we have become one with him. Telling our stories, then, is not just an exercise in group dynamics. It is an anamnesis, a recalling and a re-presenting of sacred history. And in our sharing of our stories and our unveiling of the mystery of God's action in those stories, we make the word visible again and we permit 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 the spirit to enflesh itself in the memories of our sisters and brothers. A warning needs to be given, though. This all sounds wildly opti-mistic, especially for those who have experienced the disappointments that seem almost inevitable when one lives in a Christian community. It really is not unrealistic, though, if we approach our stories with the eyes of faith. Just as the apostles had a difficult time accepting the di-vinity of Christ hidden under his human form and in Francis's day many had difficulty seeing God under the form of a host, so we might become cynical and look at our stories with eyes of flesh. The only way that we will be able to avoid that is by embracing a kenosis. We must empty our-selves of our pride and preconceptions and allow the Lord's grace to be seen. If we do that, we, like John and Francis, will prove ourselves to be men and women madly in love with our God, for we will be truly one with him. The Call: Basic Law of the Religious John M. Hamrogue, C.SS.R. Father Hamrogue preaches parish missions and gives retreats to priests and religious. He may be addressed at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Rectory; 526 59th Street; Brooklyn, New York 11220. In entering upon religious life, each of us promised to live up to the rule of our particular institute. We may be living out that promise happily or unhappily. The religious rule itself may pose very little problem on pa-per, especially since it probably sounds much less legalisti.c and more in-spirational than it used to. Still, we all have to cofiae to terms with this, that it catches us in a web of relationships inside and outside the com-munity, of duties, of places in which we must live and work, and of peo-ple we must live with and try to love. Very often we have little control over these things. So the religious rule still stands painfully for law, for what often comes into our life unbidden, for what we must accomplish and accept--for an alien brother or sister. But we all entered religious life in response to a Call, a conviction each of us had that we were entering this religious community because this was my life, because in choosing these convents or rectories or mon-asteries, because in freely giving ourselves over to our duties, we would find ourselves and our joy. We clutched a personal promise we thought we heard: that we would be holy, that our lives and works would mean something. But now we may be living with a frightful question: "Surely I was not deceived, was I? Surely someone made a promise to me!" The question may come of our own personal failures, but it may also arise out of a feeling that our religious rule and our community has failed us, in changing so much, or in changing so little. "Surely I have not made a big misiake with my life, have I?" 495 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 All human beings ask questions like that about their lives, as they try to make sense of them. In trying to come to terms with our religious life, with how our dreams and projects have gone for us, we probably cannot do better than to direct our reflections to the call that brought us here in the first place. This is God's call, of course, a law that we con-tended with before we knew any religious rule. It is a call that has cre-ated us, has made promises to us, and has taken charge of writing our individual stories. This call, this law, is the grace of the Holy Spirit in our individual lives. The Call that Creates Out of his study of the Scriptures, Father Francois-Xavier Durrwell, C.SS.R., says this about our God: "The-one-who-calls-you" is his name. Maybe I Peter 1:15-16 best expresses the import of this naming of God: "Become holy yourselves in every aspect of your conduct, af-ter the likeness of the holy One who called you; remember, Scripture says, 'Be holy, for I am holy.' "~ Though he is no careless scholar, Fa-ther Durrwell's citations of Scripture rather more evoke meditation than establish a tightly reasoned case. He recalls our hearts to truths we have long cherished: that God always loves first, that he seeks our response to his love, that he made and makes promises to a people and to every single human being, .that he keeps his promises. We should remember about Jesus that God called him his Son, his beloved, when Jesus was baptized by John. In Mark's Gospel, this call-- this sense of his identity--is described as Jesus' own secret. Only he sees the sky open and the Spirit descend (1 : I 0). He knows who he was, where he has come from, and where he will return. In this connection Paul preaches that Jesus has been raised from the dead: "We ourselves an-nounce to you the good news that what God promised our fathers he has fulfilled for us, their children, in raising up Jesus, according to what is written in the second psalm, 'You are my son; this day I have begotten you' " (Ac 13:33). The Father has proved faithful to his call of Jesus. The early Christians had a clear notion of their identity; they saw their life as a calling. Their life challenged them, but a call supported them. Paul told them, "He who calls us is trustworthy, therefore he will do it" (1 Th 5:24). He reproached them in terms of the call. "I am amazed that you are so soon deserting him who called you in accord with his gracious design in Christ, and are going over to another gospel . Such enticement does not come from him who calls you" (Ga 1:6; 5:8). He told them they partook of the call of Jesus Christ: "God is faithful, and it was he who called you to fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ The Call / 49"/ our Lord" (i Co 1:9). Mary Magdalene first grasped the sense of this promise when the Risen Christ called her name: "Jesus said to her, 'Mary!' " (Jn 20:16). Who he was and who she was in relation to him had changed to something she could never have dreamed of. Paul, too, heard his name called. "Saul, Saul, why do you perse-cute me?" (Ac 9:4). His whole sense of himself and his work is rooted in his call. He opens the Letter to the Romans this way: "Greetings from Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus, called to be an apostle and set apart to proclaim the gospel of God . " He identifies himself in the same way at the opening of 1 Corinthians: "Paul, called by God's will to be an apostle of Christ Jesus . " For the call it was that made him an apos-tle. What brought each of us to religious life, what event, what dream, what fascination? Each one of us has a story of a call, though it is prob-ably not so exotic as that of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque. She wrote that at the age of four or five "I found myself saying something I couldn't unde, rstand: 'To God I give my purity, and vow perpetual chastity.' " In later years our Lord told her: "I chose you for my bride . We plighted our troth when you made your vow of chastity. That was my doing . ,,2 Our call, too, has always been his doing. For those, then, who try to follow Jesus, God is "the-one-who-calls" (I Th 5:24; Ga 1:6; 5:8), .just as he is "the-one-who-raised- Jesus" (Rm 4:21; see I P 1:21; 2 Co 1:9; Ga I'1) and "the-one-who-brought- Israel-out-of Egypt" (Ex 20:2; Jg 6:8). "The-one-who cails-you"~ is his name (I Th 5:24; I P 1"15; 2 P 1:3).3 The Call that Makes a Promise Every call includes a promise; there is something in it for the one called. When God called Abraham to go up from Haran to the land of Canaan, he made him a promise in terms that anyone would immediately and thrillingly understand. He would make of Abraham a great nation, a man in whose very name all the communities of the earth would find a blessing (Gn 12:1-3). Of course, Abraham could never have dreamt how it would all turn out--and the story is not yet finished. How could he have known that in our day the religious communities of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam revere him as a father? But he heard God's prom-ise in terms of lands and children. That he could clearly grasp. God prom-ised him, in his childlessness, that his life would matter, that someone would remember him (Gn 15). Is there anything else that any human be-ing ever wanted out of life? True, Abraham thought only in terms of a personal life with God that ended with the grave. Only much later did 4911/Review for Religious, July-August 1988 the Jews arrive at a belief in a personal life after death. Yet Jesus too, who preached and promised a life without end, also spoke of the call in terms of the great values of this life: brothers and sisters, land and home, spouse and children (Mk 10:28-31). Those of us who take on the classic renunciations of religious life are not throwing life away like yesterday's newspaper. For each of us this life--the only one we know--this life will matter. And we will be remembered for hav-ing lived it. How, we do not know. But neither did Abraham. We cling to the call, knowing God has made us a promise. To repeat, God's promise concerns earthly life and the worth of the labors and sacrifices his servants make for love of him. It is not as though we receive eternal life in exchange for anguishing our way through a bar-ren existence, a human life that really has no meaning in it, that at best is only a contrived testing ground. A jeweler often sells watches by ad-vertising for junk: hand in a useless old watch and get a discount on a new one. But God does not see a human life as a trade-in. For all that anyone knew on Good Friday, Jesus had failed in everything he had given his life to. His disciples had fled; he had died a criminal. But by raising him from the dead, the Holy Spirit also has played the revealing light of tongues of fire on his earthly life for us who contemplate it in the Gospels. We remember that life of his. How we remember it! It mat-tered. The Call that Writes a Story With the call and the promise to Abraham in the Book of Genesis, the Bible begins to talk about history in the usual sense--people and events to which we can assign a particular time and a particular place on this earth. The whole long tale of the Scriptures hangs from God's call to Abraham and from Abraham's putting his faith in him. We are merely the actors now pronouncing the lines and pacing the stage of the ongoing drama of God's faithfulness to his promise. The other side of this story of God's faithfulness is that of our unfaithfulness, our sin. Jeremiah the prophet one day glimpsed God's resourcefulness in the face of our unfaithfulness as he watched a potter at work. God had told him to visit the potter's house, where Jeremiah saw the craftsman's in-tentions sometimes turn out badly. Some pots just did not go well at all. "Whenever the object of clay which he was making turned out badly in his hand, he tried again, making of the clay another object of what-ever sort he pleased" (Jr 18:4). In leading his prophet to the potter's house, God was reading him a lesson on the divine patience in waiting for the conversion of his peo- The Call / 499 pie. But he also was telling Jeremiah that conversion rested on God's res-toration and re-creation of a life and a situation that his people had often totally wrecked by their unfaithfulness. We should ponder the potter's care and intention as he sees the clay elude his skill and the design he had in mind for it. Somehow it is misbegotten. But the potter has an-other idea, another chance for the clay. He will try something else--a different shape, a different vessel. As we look at the story of our life, it may seem that we have not turned out as we should, and we might be right about that. We have all been unfaithful. But the call and the promise mean that God always has something else in mind, something new to create as he continues to shape our life. Although we may have wasted years and energy and talent, al-though we may have weakly or willfully thrown off our religious voca-tion altogether, we still remain within the work and the motion of his crea-tive hands. He still has something else in mind, even if it is only our con-trite acceptance of a littered past, which we yield totally to him as part of a broken self. Psalm 51 provides the words to celebrate God's having his way with us at last: "My sacrifice, O God, is a contrite spirit; a heart contrite and humbled, O God, you will not spurn" (v. 19). The Law of Our Life: The Grace of the Holy Spirit We have seen that the most basic law of Christian life is the call of God, which is played out in the stories of our lives. For stories are pow-erful laws, often in their way more piercing than laws in the strict sense. Which, for instance, do we find more unsettling when we come upon a stalled car along the highway, or a fallen derelict on a city street--the command to love our neighbor as ourselves or the story of the Good Sa-maritan? Which makes it harder just to pass by? Maybe we have had the privilege to hear religious or priests talk about their wrestling with their vocations. Even if they have to speak of infidelity, they talk in terms of their stories rather than of laws and rules in the ordinary sense. They often weep as they tell their story; for it con-tains the law and the call they cannot escape, and really do not want to escape. We find a crucial chapter of Paul's story in Acts 9. If the call is the grace of the Holy Spirit, then this scene portrays this grace most vividly. For Paul on the road to Damascus did not meet the earthly Jesus, the friend of Peter and the other disciples. Paul never met him, never knew him. He hardly ever speaks of him at all, though he had to know very much about the life of Jesus of Nazareth. But Paul met Jesus Risen, this same man resurrected; he fell in love with the Jesus raised by the power 500 / Review for Religious, July-1988 of the Spirit; he knew Jesus in the Spirit.4 His call then was the grace of the Holy Spirit. This grace of the Holy Spirit made him. It was the law and impulse of his whole life thereafter. We too meet Jesus as Paul did--in the grace of the Holy Spirit, in the story of our life. A Call to Communion Rather Than to Observance In emphasizing the primacy of the call, Father Durrwell notes that Paul did not recognize the absolute character of any law imposed from outside the person. He preached that Christian life was a call to a free-dom surging up from within us. This limitless new law of life made space for our souls: "The law of the spirit, the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, has freed you from the law of sin and death" (Rm 8:2). Since this Spirit is the love of God poured into out hearts (Rm 5:5), in surrendering to it Christians yield to what they love. No one could be more free.5 We must learn, then, to love the law, to find that it has become part of us or that we have been taken up into its secret life. Rabbi Abraham Heschel discourses on this mystery when he speaks of the Jewish tradi-tion of kavvanah. The music in a score is open only to him who has music in his soul. It is not enough to play the notes; one must be what he plays. It is not enough to do the mitzvah; one must live what he does. The goal is to find access to the sacred deed. But the holiness in the mitzvah is only open to him who knows how to discover the holiness in his own soul. To do a mitzvah is one thing; to partake of its inspiration is another.6 But who writes the music in the heart so that we may live out the very soul of written notes and law? St. Augustine would answer--the fin-ger of God. By the finger of God we learn to find delight in the law. He says that we learn "to keep Sabbath in the spirit" through the Holy Spirit poured forth in our hearts (Rm 5:5).7 Father Durrwell acknowledges that the New Testament does not ex-plicitly identify the Holy.Spirit with the call. But the Scripture does speak of the Holy Spirit as an anointing (2 Co 1:21), as a seal upon one's in-ner life (2 Co 1:22), and as a promise of final redemption (Ep !:14).8 In Paul, and also in John, we see an emphasis on an available expe-rience of this life in the Holy Spirit, one that tells us that within this very ordinary life something else goes on. So Paul preaches: "God is the one who firmly establishes us along with you in Christ; it is he who anointed us and has sealed us, thereby depositing the first payment, the Spirit, in our hearts" (I Co 1:21-22). John also preaches: "As for you, the anoint- The Call / 501 ing you received from him remains in your hearts. This means you have no need for anyone to teach you. Rather, as his anointing teaches you about all things and is true--free from any lie--remain in him as that anointing taught you" (1 Jn 2:27). In reading these Scriptures we have to conclude that this anointing-- this interior impulse and promise--amounted to a real presence for these ancient fellow believers of ours. Paul and John were appealing to their people to look to their hearts, to their experience. What has happened, then, to us? Where has the awareness gone? Nothing has happened! The awareness has not disappeared. We have known the same things, felt at least sometimes the surprise of God's peace and joy in a desperate situ-ation. We have lived by the light of a secret promise that told us we could and would be better, that we could make our world better. St. Augustine reflected on this with his people as he preached on the First Letter of John. Note how he gives up trying to talk and appeals to what the people knew--the anointing. ¯ . . What is the promise given us? "We shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is" [3:2]. The spoken word has done all it could; the rest must be pondered in the heart. In comparison of him who "is," what could John say, and what can be said by us whose desert is so far below his? We must go back to the anointing of which he has spoken, that anointing which teaches inwardly what passes utterance; and since as yet you cannot see, your work must lie in longing. The whole life of the good Christian is a holy longing.9 As Father Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., points out to us, the experi-ence John considers is the gentle, ordinary conviction of God's loving presence that we all have known, as the early Christians knew it. No need to be put off by our usual guardedness against sensational experi-ence and display. ~0 The Scriptures are urging us to trust to a patient and faithful longing for the completion of what we know has begun in us and in our world. A Woman of the Spirit Jean-Marie Cardinal Lustiger is Archbishop of Paris. He oversees a church suffering far more desperately than most others. What does he preach to his people? In homilies worthy of a Father of the Church, he stirs them with questions like this one: "Are Christians the masters of Christianity, deciding what it should be, or is it Christ who, through his Spirit, takes hold of you and leads you where you do not want to go'?" ~ And he places before the eyes of his people the image of Mary stand- 509 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 ing at the foot of the cross. They must pray, he tells them, "for the Marian grace of silent patience and long waitings in faith.''~2 So must we pray. As St. Augustine put it, the life of the Christian is one long and holy yearning. We know that. We have always known it, even though we may sometimes have too little appreciated the peace that has come along with living out our longing. This peace and this power is the anointing that Christians have always known. NOTES ~ Francois-Xavier Durrwell, C.SS.R., "Vous avez gtd appelds . " Studia Moralia 15 (1977): 345. z The Autobiography of Saint Margaret Mary, trans. Vincent Kerns (Westminster, Maryland: Newman Press, 1961), 4, 18. 3 Durrwell, 345. 4 Yves Congar, I Believe in the Holy Spirit, 3 vols. (New York: The Seabury Press, 1983), I: 30. 5 Abraham Heschel, Between God and Man: Art Interpretation of Judaism (New York: The Free Press, 1959), 165-166. 6 Augustine: Later Works, ed. John Burnaby (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1955), The Spirit and the Letter, -#27, 216. 7 Durrwell, 352, 357. 8 Durrwell, 356. 9 Augustine: Later Works, Fourth Homily, -#6, 290. ~0 Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., "A Trinitarian Theology of the Holy Spirit," Theo-logical Studies 46 (1985): 223. ~ Jean-Marie Cardinal Lustiger, Dare to Believe: Addresses, Sermons, Interviews, 1981-1984 (New York: Crossroad, 1986), 16. ~2 Lustiger, 226, 228. Superiority of the Religious Life Brendan Knea/e, F.S.C. Brother Brendan is an associate professor in a great books program and can be con-tacted at Box H; Saint Mary's College; Moraga, California 94575. One of the reasons why religious life is not attracting vocations is, no doubt, a failure to emphasize its superiority. In fact, vocational leaders and their literature tend to deny that there is any such superiority. Such a failure, it seems, must be counterproductive. Traditionally, of course, the opposite view prevailed. Recall the famous lines attributed to St. Ber-nard indicating a clear superiority: The religious 1. lives more purely, 2. falls more rarely, 3. rises more promptly, 4. walks more cautiously, 5. is graced more frequently, 6. rests more securely, 7. dies more confidently, 8. is cleansed more promptly, and 9. is rewarded more abundantly. "More" than who? Clearly St. Bernard means, "more than those in secular states of life." Does the teaching of Vatican II confirm this view? Even a cursory reading of the documents shows that it does. Not only do the official statements twice refer to the religious life as "a state of perfection," but in several places the language uses, like St. Bernard's "more," various comparative terms. 503 ~i04 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 Vatican II Thus, in Lumen Gentium 42 we read concerning the evangelical coun-sels of religious, "Outstanding among them is that precious gift of grace which the Father gives to some men (see Mt 19:11; I Co 7:7) st-" that by virginity, or celibacy, they can more easily devote their entire selves to God alone with undivided heart (see I Co 7:32-34)." And, "Since the disciples must always imitate and give witness to this char-ity and humility of Christ, Mother Church rejoices at finding within bosom men and women who more closely follow and more clearly dem-onstrate the Savior's self-giving by embracing poverty with the free choice of God's sons, and by renouncing their own wills.''~ In the chapter of Lumen Gentium devoted specifically to the vowed life we find a summary stotement, again in the comparative language "greater": "These religious families give their members the support greater stability in their way of life, a proven method of acquiring per-fection, fraternal association in the militia of Christ, and liberty strength-ened by obedience."2 A direct comparison with other Christians is made in the next section, where the text notes about the vowed religious, "is true that through baptism he has died to sin and has been consecrated to God. However, in order to derive more abundant fruit from this bap-tismal grace, he intends, by profession of the evangelical counsels in the Church, to .free himself from those obstacles which might draw him away from the fervent charity and the perfection of divine worship. Thus is more intimately consecrated to the divine service. This consecration gains in perfection since by virtue of firmer and steadier bonds it serves as a better symbol of the unbreakable link between Christ and His Spouse, the Church." The same section goes on to say, "Furthermore, the religious state constitutes a closer imitation and an abiding reenact-ment in the Church of the form of life which the Son of God made his own . Even the language of superlatives is used here: "Finally, everyone should realize that the profession of the evangelical counsels, though en-tailing the renunciation of certain values which undoubtedly merit high esteem, does not detract from a genuine development of the human per-son. Rather by its very nature it is most beneficial to that develop-ment . The counsels are especially able to pattern the Christian man after that manner of virginal and humble life which Christ the Lord elected for himself, and which his Virgin Mother also chose."3 It is well known that Vatican II was a pastoral council concerned, therefore, with changes in discipline, not doctrine (though for pastoral Superiority of the Religious Life reasons it changed the wording and emphasis of some dogmas). Hence, Vatican II does not contradict the Council of Trent. In particular, it did not withdraw its teaching about the superiority of the religious state. The earlier council anathematizes those who would place all Christian "states" on the same level. Specifically, it condemns those who say "that it is not better and more blessed to remain in virginity and celi-bacy than in the matrimonial bond" (Denz. no. 1810). Hans Urs von Balthasar notes one reason for this doctrine: "Marriage does not cross the threshold of the eschatological realm (Mt 22:30), and a person who wishes to live eschatologically should therefore renounce marriage if he can (Mt 11:12; 1 Co 7:8).''4 In a scholarly work, as part of his chapter on "Christian Voca-tions," Father John Lozano, C.M.F., has remarked, "The Council's in-sistent use of comparatives is such that theologians must, of necessity, fix their attention upon it." His own analysis (carefully nuanced and, I believe, erroneous) leads him to abandon comparatives and to vote against the traditional view, which he describes as follows: ". Chris-tian people have always considered monasticism as being, objectively, the more blessed (beatius) situation.''5 If we look at the special Decree on The Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae Caritatis) issued by Vatican II, we find that the religious state "is of surpassing value" (section I), though we are not told overtly what other values it "surpasses." Section 5 observes about religious, "They have handed over their :entire lives to God's serv-ice in an act of special consecration which is deeply rooted in their bap-tismal consecration and which provides an ampler manifestation of it.' ,6 It is true that an "ampler manifestation" of one's baptismal graces is expected after confirmation, and penance, and marriage, and after all moral choices--but the context of the passage, and the background of the whole tradition, require us to read "ampler manifestation" (and other comparatives) in accord with Trent's clear anathema (even if to-day there seem to be several writers who fall, inadvertently, under that anathema). Inferiority We should pause here to note that the religious life is also inferior. The religious state cuts a very poor figure in the context of a capitalist and consumer competition, and in the realm of biological reproduction, and in the area of political power struggles and status seeking. Indeed the three vows are instruments designed precisely to keep a person as in-ferior in these secular arenas as he or she is superior in the religious 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 arena. In the worlds of finance, medicine, the military, and so forth, there is no reason to ascribe superiority to the religious state. In the world of holiness and the sacred, there is. After Vatican II Official documents subsequent to the council enable us to read with proper understanding its intent. In 1971, for example, an Apostolic Ex-hortation on the Renewal of Religious Life came from Rome with some pointed recommendations. It continued to push the language of perfec-tion and comparatives: "more closely conformed" to the life of Christ (sec. 2); "follow Christ more freely and to imitate him more faithfully ¯ . . with greater fullness" (sec. 4); "to derive more abundant fruit" and be "more intimately consecrated" (sec. 7); "your obedience is more strict" (sec. 27). It quotes Lumen Gentium: "The Council consid-ers 'a proven doctrine of acquiring perfection' as one of the inherited riches of religious institutes" (sec. 37). Finally,, it assure us that "by the threefold renunciation of your religious profession [you] realize the greatest possible expansio.n of your life in Christ" (sec. 55).7 The present pope--certainly an expert on Vatican II--freely speaks of the superiority of the religious state. In his exhortation Familiaris Con-sortio (I 98 i), he makes it a point to say so even when his theme is fam-ily life. In section 16 he quotes with approval St. John Chrysostom's words on the superiority of consecrated virginity to sacramental mar-riage: "What appears good only in comparison with evil would not be particularly good. It is something better than what is admitted to be good that is the most excellent good." John Paul goes on to say, ~'It is for this reason that the Church throughout her history has always defended the superiority of this charism to that of marriage . ,,8 The follow-ing year Pope John Paul spoke to a representative group of sisters and said, in part, Most of all, the recommendation I would want to give you is this: pre-serve and foster a correct and lofty concept of religious life and conse-cration, according to what the Master always taught and still teaches. The Church today certainly encourages secular and "lay" forms of re-ligious life which if properly understood are of great blessing for the Peo-ple of God and for the world. The Council made clear the dignity of the earthly values and the spirituality of the laity. Nevertheless, the same Council, stressing the unique value of the religious vocation, takes care not to depreciate it with distortion of a misunderstood secularity, for-getting that the religious life achieves a perfection beyond baptismal con-secration . Superiority of the Religious Life / .507 The superiority of the religious state certainly does not depend on the Christian's final end, which is the same for everyone: blessedness in God . [There are gifts] which as such are superior to those de-riving from baptismal consecration sufficient to characterize the secular or married state . 9 Perhaps the Holy Father was recalling here the words of Adrienne yon Speyr, a wife and mother who became a well-known spiritual writer under the aegis of Hans Urs von Balthasar: If rightly chosen, the married state can be lived to perfection in a fam-ily life that is in complete accord with Christian faith and with a posi-tion in the Church, community and state . Nevertheless, there are certain limits [in married life] that cannot be moved and that simply re-lateto the finiteness of the human person . The evangelical state, whether active or contemplative, gives evi-dence from the beginning of a stronger preoccupation with God . In marriage, the individual must forgo these helps proper to the evan-gelical state. If it were possible to compare at the end of their lives two individuals who, at the moment of choice, possessed exactly the same qualifications, the same education and knowledge, the same piety and readiness to follow Christ, and of whom one chose the married state and the other the evangelical state, the advantage enjoyed by the latter would be plainly visible . Although there is a level on which the ecclesial states [including sacramental marriage] stand side by side as possible modes of Christian existence that are both good and willed by God, there is also a hierarchy among the states that clearly reveals the greater ex-cellence of the evangelical state. ~0 Later, in 1984, Pope John Paul issued a special Apostolic Exhorta-tion on the Religious Life addressed to religious themselves, Redemp-tionis Donum. He starts off in section I saying about the universal voca-tion to perfection, "While this call concerns everyone, in a special way it concerns you, men and women religious, who in your consecration to God through the vows of the evangelical counsels strive toward a par-ticular fullness of Christian life." In section 4: "This way is also called the way of perfection," a claim repeated in section 6. At the same time he twice uses the expression "state of perfection" but leaves it in quo-tation marks, and one can tell that he does so out of deference to the con-temporary sensitivities, not out of rejection of the doctrine. Also in 1984 the new Code of Canon Lawwent into effect. Careful wording characterizes it. The part devoted to religious life begins, "Life consecrated by the profession of the evangelical counsels is a stable form of living by which the faithful, following Christ more closely under the 508 /Review for Religious, July-August 1988 action of the Holy Spirit, are totally dedicated to God . " Contemporary Misapprehension How is it that this superiority is denied by many well-informed Catho-lics? We find in the influential and reprinted book Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (1985) by Cada, et al., the following passage: "At the start of the Modern Era the Council Fathers of Trent promulgated the teaching that the state of consecrated virginity was inherently better and holier than the married state. At the end of the Modern Era the Council Fathers at Vatican II taught that the religious life was no more a state of perfection than the Christian life in general" (p. 49). It is difficult see how the authors can take such a position, especially since the coun-cil documents explicitly refer to the religious life as "a state of perfec-tion," and Pope John Paul, as cited above, says just the opposite. Read-ers of this journal will be familiar with other texts, often written by vo-cation ministers, making clear disavowals of superiority. The negative psychological impact of these misreadings of Vatican II on the work of vocation ministry should be obvious. These authors no doubt worried about the invidiousness of claiming personal "superiority." They should have recalled what Thomas Aqui-nas had already pointed out in the Summa (I1-II, 186, I ): that we are speak-ing figuratively. We call all members of an order "religious" even when some are not, and we call their state one of "perfection" although none of its members may be perfect. The figure of speech we are using, he tells us, is called ~'antonomasia." We can illustrate it by the example of our calling a king, antonomastically, "His Majesty" even when is not majestic. It appears that there are two reasons (~)ne of which has just been al-luded to) why such misrepresentations of Catholic doctrine have oc-curred. (!) There has been a strong egalitarian, anti-elitist mood in most the Western world for many years. This same appetite for leveling found when one speaks of churches, even non-Christian ones. Thus, with regard to the Catholic Church, contemporary society wants her to avoid "triumphalism" and therefore to avoid claiming superiority over other religions, since "all religions are equal," Try arguing, even amon.group of Catholics, that their religion is "superior," and see, in our egali-tarian age, the resistance you meet. Similarly, members of religious con-gregations today tend to suppress the superiority of their state, even when giving vocational advice--thereby, of course, reducing the attractiveness of that state. SuperioriO, of the Religious Life / 509 (2) There is a chapter entitled "The Call to Holiness" in Lumen Gen-tium which seems, on superficial reading, to support the modern appe-tite for equality. But the chapter simply recalls that Christ summoned all people, secular and religious, to "be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect"--hardly a new doctrine in pastoral theology. In every state of life Christians have the sacraments, prayer, apostolic opportunities, and self-denial (see section 42) to help in the universal vocation we all have to perfection. It is natural to conclude (although long habit made even the fathers of the council keep the usage) that "the state of perfection" is not a title that ought to be arrogated to the religious life alone: it has been too easy for people to relegate other states to "imperfection." We certainly want to~ avoid that imputation~, and so a pastoral concern leads us to stop emphasizing~that the religious state is the state of perfection, even though it is clearly a superior state for the purposes of religious per-fection. Likewise, since we live in an ecumenical age, we do not go about saying the Catholic Church is superior to others, even though, as an instrument of salvation, it is. If, out of pastoral concern for giving emphasis to the religious value of secular and lay states~ we avoid stressing the superiority of religious and clerical states, we should not at the same time forget (or fail, at ap-propriate times, publicly to recall) that superiority. Thus Pope John Paul, as noted above, did not hesitate--even in a document about the dignity and worth of family life (Familiaris Consortio)--to remind us of the su-periority of the religious state. To disavow it is nbt humility; it is fal-sity. The accusation of elitism can be met in the same way that colleges and universities meet it. The best schools claim to be superior as instru-ments of higher education, and they are--in virtue of their curricula, their faculties, their social opportunities. Indeed the best institutions as-sure excellence by hiring the best faculty, and admitting and supporting the best students, regardless of their social status. Moreover, they do not claim that all the students and courses at other places are inferior. Ex-cellence does not demand putting others down or denying the principle of human equality. But it certainly does not require the best colleges and universities falsely to deny their own superiority, especially when seek-ing new faculty and students. Neither should the religious state in seek-ing new members. This analogy is quite forceful: the religious state is like a superior university--people seeking a "higher education" try to find suitable "instruments" for that purpose. Some of these "instru-ments" are superior to others, namely, the best universities and colleges. 510 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 It is in this sense that St. Thomas (Summa, II-lI, 184, 3 and 7) speaks of the religious state as instrumental to perfection; it is "the state of perfection" in that way, not in some invidious way. Among secular persons there are often some closer to perfection than many religious are. Chesterton has said somewhere, "Alone of all superiors the saint does not depress the human dignity of others. He is not conscious of his su-periority to them, but only more conscious of his inferiority than they are." When we call attention to the superiority of an instrument, we do not thereby claim superiority for the user of that instrument. When St. Paul in I Co 12:28ff. set up a ranking of charisms, he did not intend to offend anyone. Thus, in saying that bishops have the high-est vocation, that their state is the superior one, he was hoping to attract, not repel, vocations. St. Paul, a good vocation minister, ended by urg-ing us to "be zealous for the better gifts." God indeed hath set some in the church: first apostles, secondly proph-ets, thirdly teachers; after that miracles, then the graces of healings, helps, governments, kinds of tongues, interpretations of speeches. ~l'here are similar rankings at Romans 12:4 and Ephesians 4: 10. Conclusion As an aid to vocation ministers we should update and add to St. Ber-nard's list of comparatives. By way of a partial extension, we might say of the contemporary religious that he or she: 10. witnesses more eschatologically, (Religious vows are greater eschatological signs than are offered by secu-lar lifestyles.) I 1. serves more apostolically, (Corporate efforts at ministry multiply through space and time the work of a single individual.) 12. lives more theocentrically and Christologically, (Opportunities in re-ligious community for retreats, liturgy, meditation, silence, self-denial are abundant.) 13. operates more freely, (Support in religious life reduces financial, domestic, and decision-making chores.) 14. reaches out more ecclesially. (An international religious order extends one's circle of friends and pro-vides a worldwide family for its members.) Superiority of the Religious Life NOTES ~ Abbott, W. M., S.J., ed., The Documents of Vatican H, America Press, New York, 1966, p. 71. 2 Ibid., pp. 73-74. 3 Ibid., p. 77. 4 Von Balthasar, H. U., New Elucidations, Ignatius Press, San Francisco, 1986, p. 180. 5 Lozano, John M., C.M.F., Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Relig-ious Life, Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, Chicago, 1980, pp. 55ff. 6 Abbott, p. 471. 7 Flannery, A., O.P., ed., Vatican Council II, Liturgical Press, Collegeville, 1975, pp. 680ff. 8 Origins 11, no. 25 (December 3, 1981): 443. 9 Consecrated Life 9, no. 2, pp. 214-215. ~0 Von Speyr, A., The Christian State of Life, Ignatius Press, San Francisco, 1986, pp. 81-84. Mary and the Announcer So many questions you leave unanswered That 1 would ask: why it is 1 Who am chosen, when will this happen, how Shall I know it happening, what am I To tell the kind man to whom I am bonded. Tell him nothing? And already you gather Yourself for departure; the dark tower Of your presence stands a shadow On the floor, unfolding long Skirted pinions, lifting them higher. If I lifted my eyes, I would see light, Where you have stood. Where I am standing Now in light brighter than windows, the dance Of it is like rings at my fingers, Like bracelets adorning my ankles, a lightness Crowning my hair. Harmless as I am, No harm can come to me of standing In light where I cast no shadow Yet am overshadowed, where again ! hear The calm announcement: Mary, do not fear. Nancy G. Westerfield 2914 Avenue B Kearney, NE 68847 Celibate Loving Rosemarie Carfagna, O.S.U., Ph.D. Sister Rosemarie's "Spirituality of Suffering" appeared in our March/April 1988 issue. She is in the Philosophy and Religious Studies Department at Ursuline Col-lege; 2550 Lander Road; Pepper Pike, Ohio 44124. Can two women from the late Middle Ages have anything to say to con-temporary religious women about their efforts at celibate loving? Al-though the times and the circumstances have changed, the central issues involved in celibate loving have not. This article will look at the writ-ings of two spiritual mothers for practical guidance about the conduct of religious in love relationships. Teresa of Avila was a sixteenth-century Spanish Carmelite. Margaret Mary Alacoque was a seventeenth-century Sister of the Visitation in France. Both women wrote poignantly about the experience of learning how to love. Both women learned from hu-man love lessons that led them to divine love. Their wisdom and their advice can be helpful for religious women and men today. The Desire for Affection In her classic work The Way of Perfection, Teresa speaks to her sis-ters about their efforts to love. She is aware from her own experience of the danger and temptation of looking to human beings for the ultimate satisfaction that can come only from God. Teresa herself needed to learn about detachment and transcendence, so it was with humility and sim-plicity that she could refer to the desire for affection as blindness. She tells her sisters, "I sometimes think this desire for affection is sheer blind-ness . When we desire anyone's affection, we always seek it because of some interest, profit or pleasure of our own." ~ It is the self-interest underlying the desire for affection that alerts Teresa to the imperfection of the love. As she matured in love, Teresa began to see through its more 512 Celibate Loving / 513 superficial forms. Speaking about the subversive effect of self-interest on love, she writes, "Of course, however pure our affection may be, it is quite natural for us to wish it to be returned. But, when we come to evaluate the return of affection, we realize that it is insubstantial, like a thing of straw, as light as air and easily carried away by the wind."2 Teresa wants more than this for herself and for her sisters. She realizes that the call to celibate love offers greater, more permanent rewards. How-ever, these gifts are deeply hidden. Mature religious are sensitive enough to know where to look for them. Describing the deeper vision of holy souls, she writes: ¯ . . the things which they see are everlasting. If they love anyone they immediately look right beyond the body, fix their eyes on the soul and see what there is to be loved in that. If there is nothing, but they see any suggestion or inclination which shows them that, if they dig deep, they will find gold within this mine, they think nothing of the labor of dig-ging, since they have love.3 The kind of love Teresa is describing is a purified and noble love. It is a kind of love she came to know because she was led to it by the Spirit. It is purified through a gentle and continuous process of detach-ment. Detachment Margaret Mary Alacoque learned about celibate loving directly from Jesus, whom she acknowledged as her Spouse. Her Thoughts and Say-ings record the instructions she received that guided her spiritual and emo-tional development and brought her to the fullness of love. The follow-ing message was addressed to her in prayer: "Know that if you wish to possess Jesus Christ and to dwell in his Sacred Heart, you must have no other desire and be content with him alone.' ,4 These are puzzling words for beginners in the spiritual life. Speaking of contentment in the same context as such radical detachment appears paradoxical at first. Perhaps Margaret Mary experienced a degree of consternation, too, when she heard these words. Her instructions continued in the same vein. How-ever, she was assured that Jesus her Spouse would teach her and help her become accustomed to purified love. She recorded the following mes-sage that she received by way of encouragement: May he teach you what he desires of you, and may he give you the strength to accomplish it perfectly. If I am not mistaken, this in a few words is what ! think he chiefly requires of you: He wishes that you should learn to live without support, without a friend and without saris- Review for Religious, July-August 1988 faction. In proportion as you ponder over these words, he will help you to understand them.5 The message may seem harsh if we focus only on the radical detach-ment it implies. Who among us finds the prospect of living without sup-port and without a friend attractive? But a second look at the meaning behind the words can sustain us. Rather than taking away the help that we need, Jesus is offering himself to us as helper, lover, and friend. Mar-garet Mary was told: Our Lord would fain be your sole Support, Friend and Delight, provided you seek neither support nor delight in creatures. Nevertheless, you must not be ill at ease or constrained in your intercourse with your neighbor, but always humble, bright, kind and gracious in your manner. The Sa-cred Heart of Jesus gives you these holy aspirations through the ardent love he bears you, which makes him desire to possess your heart whole and entire.6 Having this kind of intimacy with Jesus makes detachment easy. All other love relationships fall into place when our hearts are focused on him. Those experienced in celibate love know, however, that coming to such intimacy with Jesus is a gradual process. They are familiar with tri-als and temptations. They know that growth in celibate love is a constant effort at putting God first. Putting God First Both Teresa and Margaret Mary would offer advice to religious to-day, as they did to their own sisters. The unifying theme found in the writings of both of them is the importance of putting God first in the or-der of our love and of having a faithful spousal commitment to Jesus. They might say that as it is in any state of life, the religious life will have its share of trials and temptations. This is to purify and test the soul for worthiness to heaven. Only in heaven will the soul be free of suffering and only in heaven will the soul be filled with delights and satisfaction. Because these spiritual mothers were human as well as holy, they would admit that it can happen in religious life that there are attractions and even sexual arousal to one of the opposite sex or even of one's own sex. This is not wrong in and of itself. What does offend the good God is when the religious, especially the religious woman whom Jesus con-siders to be his own bride, succumbs to these attractions and sensations and knowingly and willingly seeks the intimacy with another that one would seek with a betrothed or wedded lover. It is not wrong to love or even to be in love with another when one is a religious. What is wrohg is seeking one's own selfish ends rather Celibate Loving than putting God first in one's heart and behaving seductively and ador-ingly to one's earthly beloved. No soul on earth can ever expect to find peace or happiness unless God is first in one's heart and one wills to be-have faithfully to God according to one's state in life and according to vows taken. Purified Love Loving another person in the temporal realm means loving him or her spiritually and from afar sometimes. Sexually arousing contact, be it eye contact, physical proximity, flirtation, or any seductive behavior that intends to arouse sexual passion in the other, is highly offensive to God. It would be better for the religious to leave the community than to behave so, for this can only lead to unhappiness. If one finds oneself in a love relationship and if the relationship has God's blessing, it will be peaceful and characterized by friendship, equal-ity in status, pure affection, chaste intention, and discretion in intimate behavior. Behavior toward any others will be spiritually beneficial and charitable as a result of this love. If, on the other hand, the love rela-tionship originates from one's own inordinate desires, it will be charac-terized by behaviors which seek sexual arousal and aim at sexual con-summation. There will also be exclusiveness, possessiveness, and ob-sessiveness, leaving the heart in a profoundly miserable state.7 Only, as Augustine has said, when one's heart first rests in God will it be happy and be pleasing to God. It is only in willing to please God first that the soul can find the love and satisfaction it seeks. This is especially so for a religious whom God holds responsible for shepherding his flock. The primary concern of the religious is to glorify God and to save souls. All other relationships are to flow from this holy and serious duty. May the example and the wisdom of women like Teresa and Margaret Mary help us to grow today in our efforts at celibate love. NOTES ~Teresa of Avila, The Way of Perfection (New York: Image Books, 1964), p. 70. ~-Ibid. 3 Ibid., p. 71. 4 Margaret Mary Alacoque, Thoughts and Sayings of St. Margaret Mary (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, Inc.), p. 73. 5 Ibid. 6 Ibid., pp. 74-75. 7 See Teresa's descriptions of spiritual versus sensual relationships in The Way of Perfection, pp. 54-59, 67-81 (i.e., chap. 4 lall but the beginningl and chaps. 6 and 7). Hope for Community: A Kingdom Perspective Kristin Wombacher, O.P., and Shaun McCarty, S.T. Sister Kristin, a licensed clinical psychologist, was a writer for the Pontifical Com-mission on Religious Life in th~ United States and is presently Prioress General of the Dominican Sisters of San Rafael. She resides at Siena Convent; 4038 Maher Street; Napa, California 94558. Father McCarty, of the Missionary Servants of the Most Holy Trinity, teaches in the Washington Theological Union and is a staff mem-ber of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. He resides at Holy Trinity Mis-sion Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Since Vatican II both have been extensively involved with programs of renewal for relig-ious communities of women and men, lay and religious, especially in the United States. In response to Vatican II, religious congregations have made changes in their lifestyles and structures in order to open themselves to renewal. A key area of concentration during this time of adaptation and renewal has been a desire to improve the quality of community life. The initial focus on community life following Vatican II centered pri-marily on local living situations and was largely problem-oriented. It em-phasized quantitative changes in existing structures, for example, chang-ing schedules, modifying prayer styles, and minimizing rules. As help-ful as these changes have been, the overall fruits of such a focus have been limited. What gradually has become clear is the need to shift the focus of community life, to broaden the horizons of "community," consider community not only within the context of religious life, but also within a broader Christian context as related to the life, work, and mis-sion of all God's people. This shift in focus calls us from a more intro-spective view of community life to an enhanced vision of community as related to Kingdom. 516 Hope for Community This article will be an attempt to explore "community" within the horizon of the kingdom of God. We will deal with the past development, present challenge, and future promise of community as viewed within this perspective. These observations are based on some fairly extensive experiences since Vatican II of working with a variety of religious groups, of women and men from various denominations, especially within the United States. Some Preliminary Understandings (1) Kingdom of God: This term attempts to express something of the mystery of the corporate vision of the People of God, that is, God's reign that embraces values such as love, freedom, peace, justice, unity, and fellowship. There are several perspectives of Kingdom, none of which exhausts the symbol. Kingdom is larger than any one of them. There is a sense in which the Kingdom is behind us, ahead of us, within us, and among us. The Kingdom is behind us in that it was the principal theme of Christ's preaching and was enfleshed and inaugurated in his person. The Kingdom is ahead of us in that it will reach consummation as a "new earth and a new heaven." In the words of Vatican lI's Pastoral Consti-tution on the Church in the Modern World: ". God is preparing a new dwelling place and a new earth where justice will abide and whose blessedness will answer and surpass all the longings for peace which spring up in the human heart" (n. 39). The Kingdom is within us in that it describes inner fellowship with God in mystical union and points to a human yearning for the living God that is deeper even than the hunger and thirst for the justice of God. The Kingdom is among us now in that it is already present among people who honestly seek to follow God's call and who live justly with others. This perspective refers to growth towards wholeness in the collective life of humanity--its laws, customs, institutions, works, politics, art, and so forth. It summons people now to the work of cultivating (or perhaps "uncovering" is more apt) the Kingdom "to give some kind of foreshadowing of the new age." (2) Future: In speaking about future hopes, distinctions need to be made between different kinds of futures: There are possible futures-- those which might be, limited only by the horizons of imagination; prob-able futures, those which are likely to be, indicated by present trends and tendencies; preferable futures, those which should be, in accord with sys-tems of values; and plausible futures, those which can be, capable of be-ing practically realized. Our focus here will be on a future vision of community within King- Review Jbr Religious, July-August 1988 dom perspectives that can shape attitudes, indicate behaviors, and mus-ter energy for further uncovering the Kingdom now. Our contention is that religious today are called to explore the possible, to assess the prob-able, to proclaim the preferable, and to implement the plausible. It is our further contention that such vision is essential to God's call to cocreate our future, to renew, indeed to refound community. Any community with-out a vision is moribund. (3) Community: In this context we are speaking about religious com-munity primarily, that is, intentional ecclesial groups of Christians who are called together in faith and bonded by memories of a shared past, hopes for a shared future, and commitments to a shared present. To-gether, members carry out a specific mission in service of the kingdom of God according to the unique charism of the group and by using their gifts for ministry in a concerted way. As with individuals, the commu-nity itself is called to ongoing corporate renewal in response to the Gos-pel, the charism of the group, the signs of the times, and the graced in-itiatives of its members. Community as Theological Imperative The origin of everything--the world and its people, all creation, the entire cosmos--is a God who is Trinitarian. The life of God, by its very nature, is relational, societal, communitarian--a perfect union without confusion, distinction without separation. The ultimate destiny of the whole of creation is the kingdom of God, which is also at its core communitarian, a perfect communion of all hu-mankind, the world and its history. As R. P. McBrien says: The initial experience of God's renewing and reconciling presence, which is the kingdom of God, evokes our theological quest for under-standing and excites the hope that one day our union with God and with one another will be realized to its fullest, when God will be all in all. ~ Communitarian, societal, relational life, then, is both the origin and the destiny of all creation. As disciples of Jesus we live in incarnational time that originates with the Trinity and finds completion in the fullness of Kingdom. Christ came in the flesh to show us that the way to God is through membership in the Kingdom, the principal sign of which is unity--oneness with God and with each other in Christ. Jesus' parting prayer for his disciples was: "May they all be one, just as, Father, you are in me and I am in you, so that they also may be one in us. that they may be one as we are one. With me in them and you in me, so may they be perfected in unity" Hope for Community / 519 (Jn 17:21-23). The Christian way to God is in and through community. Community, then, is not just a dimension essential to religious life; it is an invitation shared with all people, indeed, with all of creation. All are called to com-munity that, together with Christ, they may seek and proclaim the king-dom of God. The theological imperative of community is clearly enunciated by Vatican II in its Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World: God did not create man for life in isolation, but for the formation of so-cial unity . This communitarian character is developed and consum-mated in the work of Jesus Christ. For the Word made flesh willed to share in the human fellowship (n. 32). Community as an Evolving Reality in Human History The need to belong, to be part of a larger whole, is a basic human need. The experience of community has evolved over time. Families at first came together into kinship groups of tribe and clan primarily for sur-vival. Eventually tribes and clans grew into villages. Over thousands of years the tribes/clans/villages grew into cities/states/nations. Today the nation is the predominant human grouping. But already further changes seem to be moving towards what is referred to as the "global village" (interdependent world communi!y). We become members of these groupings by birth. Formerly living closely together over a lifetime in tribe/clan/village provided an unques-tionable sense of belonging and membership. In addition, such member-ship provided a clear sense of identity, values, and life-purpose. While life in the city/state/nation continues to give some sense of belonging and membership, it is less tangible than the former. Today nationality, for most, primarily shapes neither identity, values, nor life-purpose. All must struggle to find their own. While some people today would claim membership in the "global village," this certainly is not yet a univer-sal experience. One movement in this evolution of human community seems to be towards increasing fullness, beyond any single nation, race, or culture-- towards a community of humankind in this "global village." To Chris-tian ears this would seem to have a "Kingdom" ring that Teilhard de Chardin heard better than most: As the centuries go by, it seems that a comprehensive plan is indeed be-ing slowly carried on around us. A process is at work in the uni- 590 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 verse . Through and thanks to the activity of mankind the new earth is being formed and purified and is taking on definition and clarity.2 Sociologists suggest that with the development of broader "born into" human groupings has come a proliferation of intentional groups which have provided a more tangible sense of belonging/connectedness. People choose to join such groups because they share a common purpose; for example, cause, interest, profession, problem. Intentional groups re-quire that members already have identity, values, and life-purpose. It is the shared purpose that brings people together concretely and gives them a sense of felt membership and connectedness. In these intentional groups, membership and connectedness are sustained by collaborative ac-tion as well as by personal presence and support. What we seem to have, then, evolving alongside the development of "born into" human group-ings, is the development of intentional groups. This evolutionary tracing makes clear that while communities (hu-man groupings) are constant human realities, the dynamics and processes of such groupings have been changing over time. Today the evolution of "born into" groups is moving toward more of an interdependent world-community. Rather than village or nation, the world itself is coming to be viewed as a single worldwide community in which we all are members. The obvious interrelatedness of world peace, world hunger, global economy, and so forth is an indicator that, as members of the planet earth, we share a common destiny. The devel-opment of intentional groups also illustrates the importance of shared pur-pose which brings individuals together and provides them with a sense of membership and connectedness. Changes in Religious Life Community Since Vatican II During the last twenty years, religious community has gone through many changes. One of the greatest impediments in the struggle to expe-rience true community, perhaps, is an obsession with local living as the focal point of community. In order to be free to look at community in terms of creative options, there is need to take another look at local liv-ing- what it can or cannot do now. In the past there seemed to be three factors that enabled local living situations to provide a strong sense of community: (I) Group living for many was an efficient way to support ministry. (2) It provided for most of the basic needs of the members, for example, physical (food, cloth-ing, shelter), relational (acceptance, support, companionship), spiritual (common prayer, liturgy, retreat day). (3) It gave each member a sense Hope for Community of relatedness and a strong sense of belonging due to commonly shared experiences and a clearly defined authority/obedience structure. At pre-sent these factors no longer seem operative in the same way and for the following reasons: (1) Because of increasing diversity in ministry, de-creasing involvement in corporate apostolates, and larger geographical distances, local community living is not always the most efficient arrange-ment to support ministry. More and more religious are living alone, in small groups, and with other congregations. (2) It can no longer be as-sumed that local living can adequately meet individuals' basic needs. This is due in part to an increasing diversity of lifestyles, prayer prefer-ences, work schedules, and so forth. In addition, increasing numbers of religious have discovered personally enriching relational and spiritual re-sources and experiences outside local living and even congregational life. (3) The experience of local living no longer automatically guarantees a sense of belonging/relatedness/membership. This is due, at least in part, to the decrease of commonly shared experiences and the minimizing of authority/obedience structures. In fact, for some the experience of local living has become alienating. Trying to force it seems only to make things worse. What then can people in a local living situation realistically do in terms of (I) finding support for ministry, (2) basic need satisfaction, and (3) nurturing a sense of belonging/relatedness/membership? Would it not seem to call for a change in expectations of what local living can pro-vide? In terms of finding support for ministry, might this not be more re-alistically supplemented by others with whom one is involved in the same or similar ministries both inside and outside the congregation? In terms of basic need-satisfaction: (a) Concerning physical needs, those who do live together must have some minimal compatibility; for example, as to what constitutes simplicity of lifestyle. (b) Concerning relational needs, the degree of required compatibility will depend on the degree of relationship expected. It may not be valid to expect intimacy (innermost, confidential, close relationship) or friendship (warmth, depth of feeling, affection). But it does seem valid for religious living together to expect a sense of companionship (living on good terms with one an-other). (c) Concerning spiritual needs, there must be moderate compati-bility in gathering for common prayer and basic respect for individual expressions of spirituality. As with relational needs, one cannot expect every local living situation to provide opportunities for deeper, more af-fective forms of prayer; for example, personal faith-sharing. 522 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 In terms of membership (belonging/relatedness), living together does not automatically yield a sense of belonging. Reasons for living together tend to occur more on the basis of ministry or, in some instances, on the basis of personal preference. It may be that the experience of member-ship is not dependent on living together or daily presence. Perhaps more significant, yet less frequent, coming together may be more conducive to a sense of belonging in religious life today and in the future. But there is a need for some kind of congregational structures through which mem-bers can experience belonging to the whole. Belonging in community goes beyond socializing, meeting, living, and finding comfort with one another. Community is primarily the re-sult of bondedness around a common mission. This mission is some as-pect of Christ's mission--proclaiming the kingdom of God, according to the charism of a particular congregation. Community, in this perspec-tive, means belonging to a group that continues to call members to more, to stretch, to sacrifice, to move beyond themselves. It means going more deeply into that core relationship of commitment and belonging, of be-ing able to share, support, and challenge each other at that level. It means looking beyond individual development to group development. The time may have come to make more qualitative, attitudinal as well as structural changes in order that members can identify and experience what com-munity could/should be about. Today, looking at the communal dimen-sion of our lives, we would suggest that mission can guide us in identi-fying how religious can come together so as to have a matrix from which to be sent out to serve. Religious need to feel, sense, experience mem-bership in their congregations and exercise it in interdependent (rather than dependent or independent) fashion. Psychological Development Accompanying Changes Since Vatican II As already indicated, the initial changes that followed Vatican II were primarily external adaptations; for example, changes in dress, time, and form of prayer. Still these external adaptations opened the door to more significant changes. Soon efforts moved beyond the adaptation of externals to more substantive issues of renewal. This appears to have oc-curred in three general phases which can be viewed also as stages of matu-ration. The first phase consisted of a search for congregational identity (identity statements). Contrary to earlier practices, at this phase there was an attempt to engage the participation of the entire membership. This so-licitation of individual opinions helped catalyze the disassembling of re-ligious congregations as collective entities and evoked movement toward individuality on the part of members. Hope for Community / 523 At the second phase, there were many attempts to foster personal shar-ing (for example, house meetings, prayer groups, and small-group liv-ing) and the greater development of interpersonal relationships. Although this search for intimacy took place within the local living situation and in the workplace, both in and outside the congregation, the emphasis was primarily a within-the-congregation experience. In the third phase, attention turned to writing "mission statements." During this period energies were directed more externally with greater emphasis on ministry and service to others outside the congregation. The changes which occurred in these three phases were much more significant than the external adaptations mentioned earlier. These three phases in religious life are not unlike Erikson's fifth, sixth, and seventh stages of human growth and development: Identity Formation (in ado-lescence); Intimacy (in young adulthood); and Generativity (care and serv-ice of others in adulthood).3 Viewed in this perspective, the movement of individuals and congregations through these three phases can be seen/ understood in terms of maturation. For many religious this was a neces-sary maturing process which challenged them to greater personal growth and increasing individuality. This process of maturation enabled great numbers of religious to move from earlier patterns of passivity, compli-ance, and dependency towards becoming more active, assertive, and in-dependent. Each moved through this process along her/his own path, which was appropriate because the task was increasing individuality. But the movement towards active, assertive, and independent living only paved the way for additional movement and further change. Now many religious seem stuck, stagnant, experiencing, if you will, a "stalled generativity." True generativity demands that religious con-tinue to mature and become interactive, resonant, and interdependent. But such movement cannot be executed alone. In order to make this next step, religious will need a renewed sense and experience of co~nmunity. Present Inadequacy of Local Community Living We would contend that community, as we have known it, is no longer adequate because it has been based too largely on local living. Lo-cal community living, for many, no longer has the capacity as a struc-ture to provide members with a sense of community. Whether one's liv-ing situation is positive, neutral, or negative, there remains among many religious women and men a lack of connectedness to a group which at present can challenge, inspire, provide a vision significant enough to con-tain the religious commitment of one's life. It is becoming clearer that local living situations can more appropriately address the daily basic 524 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 needs of religious members, but that they are inadequate in providing the context for their life commitment. In other words, community member-ship/ connectedness comes primarily from a sense of belonging to the larger whole. Alvin Toffler in projecting community for the future says it well: "Community is more than emotionally satisfying bonds. It re-quires strong ties between the individual and the organization. Commu-nity is absent because there is little sense of shared mission.' ,4 He con-nects the absence/loss of a sense of community with the lack of a shared sense of mission. So what can be done? How can religious meet their needs? Find sup-port for ministry? Reestablish bonds of belonging (membership)? Rather than problem-solve, as has often been done in the past, by focusing on how to "fix" local living, perhaps there is a need to step back and look at the goal of community as described earlier. Again, the purpose and path for all Christians is the kingdom of God as disciples of Jesus. Many have moved from dependence to independence and now need to move towards greater interdependence. In short, what we are suggesting is not so much structural change as a shift in perspective which can enable in-dividuals and groups to see community primarily in service of the King-dom. This, in turn, requires interdependent relating, both in order to pur-sue the group's mission and to meet the needs of members. Next Step: "Upper Room" Experiences In order to experience better a sense of membership/connectedness to the larger whole, religious must gather to profess their common be-lief in the Risen Lord. Such was the gathering of the disciples in the up-per room (Acts 2). Here we find: a coming together in fellowship; as dis-ciples (men and women); in confusion, fear, and uncertainty; united in their memory of and belief in the Risen Christ and his promise of the Spirit; gathered in prayerful support of one another; and open to the power of the Spirit who comes as gift, creates them anew, and unifies and empowers them with a passion for continuing Christ's mission-- proclaiming the kingdom of God. Perhaps what religious communities need today is a quest for simi-lar "upper room" experiences in which members can gather for prayer, reflection, celebration, and support. Conditions for "Upper Room" Experiences The kind of experiences we are suggesting basicallyrequires events at which members gather not just to attend, but to participate in local, regional, and congregational events for significant exchanges around mis-sion and the means for pursuing it. Not only is the topic of mission ira- Hope for Community/525 portant, but so also is the process of gathering. It, too, should mirror the Kingdom. This calls for approaches that will enable people to pray/reflect/ interact in such a way that mutual experiences can become disclosures of God's actions and invitations to a further "uncovering" of the King-dom. This implies sharing prayer at deeper levels, prayer proceeding from the very experiences of life and ministry in this incarnational King-dom. It also calls for celebrations of life together--its joys and sorrows, successes and failures, hopes and fears. In short, what is reflected upon, prayed from, and celebrated needs primarily to relate to the larger per-spective of the kingdom of God. Common community events that already provide such opportunities include: renewal/retreat programs, convocations, chapters, regional meet-ings, professions, jubilees, funerals, missioning ceremonies, and litur-gical and paraliturgical services commemorating special feasts and events. Perhaps even committee meetings have Kingdom potential! In ad-dition, there are larger ecclesial, ecumenical, and civic events to which religious groups could bring and find Kingdom perspectives. These perspectives hopefully can point to attitudes, dispositions, val-ues for preferable futures that include: a passion for the Kingdom per-meating not just the matter covered, but also the manner of the sharing (with reverent honesty); a spirit of sacrifice and compromise that allows people to let go of fixed positions (not of principle or conviction how-ever!) that might impede plausible steps for now (discernment is a mat-ter of when as well as what!); a determination to love each other until all embrace the same truth; a hunger for justice and peace tempered by compassion; a profound respect for freedom with accountability; a per-sistent quest of unity while preserving diversity. "Upper Room" Dynamics Some dynamics for gatherings that might further the Kingdom would include: (I) commonly accepted agenda that concern significant issues; (2) "contemplative listening" that would value periods of silence and listening with the heart; (3) sincere reverence for the opinions and espe-cially for the experience of others; (4) sensitive sharing that helps per-sons speak the truth in love with the authority of their own experience, yet with a certain tentativeness and humility; (5) seeking to build con-sensus rather than deciding by vote, which tends to create division be-tween "winners" and "losers." Obstacles to "Upper Room" Experiences There are, of course, obstacles to such "upper room" experiences. 526 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 Most seriously obstructive to any effbrt towards greater interdependence in community is a certain immobility resulting from a loss of belief the mission and of hope in the future of community. Unfortunately there are those who have become victims of the inevitability of probable fu-tures and who are unable or unwilling to live into the Paschal Mystery in present diminishments as the prelude to new life. There are lesser resistances of varying degrees. On the one hand, there are some who desire to restore past forms of community life rather than to renew them. Those inclined this way tend to depend on others (usually in authority) to tell them how. These are often angry, depressed, apathetic, or passively aggressive in resisting change. On the other hand, there are those who have opted for more independent styles of living and working and who .are reluctant to forgo individual paths or alternate groups which have claimed prior allegiance of membership. Many of these not only are frustrated, but have become increasingly more alien-ated and indifferent to the community; some have a pervasive resistance to the accountability true interdependence requires. Then, of course, there are obstacles from the logistics of coming to-gether- with considerations of distance, expense, ministerial commit-ments, depletion of energy, and so forth. A formidable deterrent also is the memory of poor past experiences at meetings that have not only fallen short, but have also been destructive, of "upper room" experi-ences. Signs of Hope for the Future In seeking signs of hope for the future of intentional faith communi-ties, we would point to some significant developments that perhaps fall within the range of probable futures. Some are occurring outside religious life as such and even beyond the confines of the Roman Catholic Church. In general, there is a grow-ing consciousness of and desire for the "global village" especially among those committed to nuclear deterrence and ecological balance. Common causes of justice and peace (kingdom of God among us) have brought together various religious groups into organizations like the In-terfaith Center for Corporate Responsibility. What seems to be a wide-spread quest for deeper interiority (kingdom of God within us) has stimu-lated ecumenical attempts to nurture prayer and to train spiritual di-rectors; for example, Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation, in Wash-ington, D.C. A particularly striking phenomenon is the emergence of "new com-munities" like Taiz6 and L'Arche which bear some common character- Hope for CommuniO, / fi27 istics including: inspiration from existing spiritual traditions; the follow-ing of Christ as proposed by the Gospel; equality among the members as regards sex, state in life, and ministry; ecumenical membership with-out loss of confessional identity; cordial relations with Church authori-ties; a place for couples and children; a strong sense of presence among others; a readiness to adapt to changing situations; commitment to com-munity linked to commitment to each person's ministry; decisions by dis-cernment and shared responsibility; gradual movement towards perma-nent commitment with room for temporary association; a nonjudgmen-tal spirit; varying degrees of involvement in community; and a spirit of hospitality.5 Some developments are occurring within religious life itself. Evi-dences of these are intercongregational endeavors on a national scale like the LCWR (Leadership Conference of Women Religious), the CMSM (Conference of Major Superiors of Religious Men), and Network. Lo-cally and regionally there are examples of collaboration like intercom-munity novitiate programs and union theological schools. Along less formal lines, intercommunity and even interdenomina-tiona~ support groups are emerging among people involved in ministries like spiritual formation and spiritual direction. Within congregations themselves, internal support groups (of mem-bers from different local communities) seem to be increasing, as do pro-grams of lay affiliation and the utilization of lay volunteers. Conclusion The future belongs to those who dare to hope and who are willing to commit themselves to help shape it. Some questions that members of religious communities might ask themselves in fashioning such a future are: To what extent is our life together focused on the Kingdom? How can our gatherings be more like "upper room" experiences? What atti-tudes/ behaviors/dynamics do we need to make them so? What obstacles hinder it? What signs do we see (inside or outside the congregation) of the Kingdom being uncovered? Where do members feel nudges towards further corporate transformation (conversion) in moving in the direction of a greater Kingdom-orientation? The concluding lines of Lillian Smith's Journey6 articulate some questions perhaps pertinent for those who would help shape the preferable futures of community life: A century from now, what shall be said of our journey in these times? And who shall the shapers have been'? . . . Who shall have shaped the future more? The hopeful dreamers who were strong enough to suffer 528 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 for the dream? Or the fearful pessimists who were convinced that dream-ing and hope are for sleepers only, not for those awake to the age? A century from now, shall hope and humor been strong enough to enable living with unanswerable questions? Or shall the pain that a tran-sitional age necessarily brings have caused a retreat to old answers that no longer acknowledge new questions'? A century from now, we shall have indeed journeyed . . . backward or forward. Direction can no longer be given by circumstance; real journeyers know that the direction is always chosen by those who make the journey. Who shall choose the direction? ¯ . . So the question is still the same . A century from now, what shall be said of our human journey in these times? And who shall the shapers have been? NOTES ~ R. P. McBrien, Catholicism (Minneapolis: Winston, 1980), p. 907. 2 p. Teilhard de Chardin, Hymn of the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1961), p. 93. 3 E. H. Erikson, Identity: Youth attd Crisis (New York: Norton, 1968), pp. 128- 139. 4 See A. Toffler, The Third Wave (New York: William Morrow & Co., 1980), p. 384. 5 New Beginnings (Reprint from Bulletin 92, Pro mundi vita, spring 1983; Washing-ton, D.C.: Religious Formation Conference). 6 Lillian Smith, The Journey (New York: Norton, 1954). Finding Prayer in Action John R. Welsh, S.J. After a considerable career in high-school work in the South, Father Welsh became a pastor in New Orleans and then in Brazil, where he has also given retreats and par-ish missions. At present he is the director of the Apostleship of Prayer for the arch-diocese of S~.o Paulo. He may be addressed at Patio do Col~gio, 84:01016 S~o Paulo, S.P.; Brazil. The most abiding challenge to those who direct the prayer life of people in "active" apostolates or engaged in pastoral activity has to be that of indicating the relevance of prayer within the context of apostolic action. "Relevance" may not be the most apt word to denote that vague, haunt-ing feeling that somehow the period of my formal prayer ought to "say something" or "bear upon" all the rest of my day, devoted to activity. I use "relevance" rather to connote through an association of images, instead of trying to define precisely what we all sense: that prayer and action, certainly as an ideal, are conjoined. On the other hand, in offering these reflections of a method for con-sciously uniting our activity with our prayer, I prefer to use the language of precision and definition. Supposing agreement that in day-to-day prac-tice we rarely advert to definitions and hardly at all do so with any pre-cision, I hope in what follows to awaken in readers a sense that "I'm already doing that"; then, through some precision, to help them to at-tend more reflectively on its advantages in prayer-action dynamics. In other words, this article has no pretensions of describing a brand-new method, but only of setting out in a descriptive way the interaction or relevance of prayer and apostolate. Circular Interaction The interaction may be imagined as circular, starting with (a) prayer, 529 530 / Review for Religious, July-August 1988 (b) going on rounds of activities, and (c) closing the day with reflection. True, these three "instants" are well known and practiced widely. What makes of them a dynamic is the interconnection, the uniting, of each "in-stant" with the others and thus a closing of the circuit, so to speak. It is on the value of this "fitting together" of prayer-action-reflection that I am focusing. (a) The "prayer" I speak of is simply the time of formal prayer at the start of the day, the morning meditation or set of prayers or readings which are often done in common, either as preparation for the Eucharist or within the Liturgy of the Hours. It comprises both "hearing the word of the Lord" and "pondering on it in one's heart"; listening to the Lord and responding as that word motivates and arouses sentiments in my heart. As a simple illustration, I fix attention in morning prayer on a chal-ice on the altar as a symbol of my daily offering to Christ in union with the Holy Sacrifice offered "from the rising to the set of the sun." (b) "Activities" include all the occupations of the day, be they study, raising children, teaching, nursing, directing, counseling, travel-ing, attending planning sessions, doing business, or keeping house. Here it is vital that the sentiments evoked in prayer "overflow" and stream into the kind of person who is performing the tasks of the day. To put it another way, the one who prayed earlier should be saturated in the af-fectivity or the spirit that the prayer stimulated and in this spirit continue thinking, feeling, and deciding; and, of course, he or she should act and judge and treat others in that same spirit. Continuing the illustration above (the chalice on the altar), I set out for a meeting on the other side of my vast city, choosing the wrong bus, missing the interurban train, and arriving long after the appointed time, only to discover that I have come to a parish with the same name as another in the same sector and that the.meeting, now concluding, is at the other parish, a good two miles distant. Staying where I have arrived, I visit the staff of a recreational program for children, which is modeled on a type common throughout the city. Though frustrated, I sense I have made an important contact for my work, one more useful perhaps than the meeting I missed. (c) The "reflection" at the close of the day may come in many forms: examination of conscience, recitation of Evening Hour, commu-nity night prayers, an evening Mass, or a private review of the day. In this moment one passes in review the significant moments of the day's activities, letting what is "significant" come to the fore spontaneously: an image deeply impressed, a personality encountered, a conversation whose very overtones I recall, or the salient emotional tone of the day, Finding Prayer in Action ! 531 such as anguish, euphoria, anger, frustration, or quiet satisfaction in un-folding events. Reverting to the illustration I have been using: late at night I look back on my day. Th~ sentiments of frustration tinged with resentment somehow evoke the Lord's challenging words to the two "sons of thunder": "Can you drink the chalice that I will drink?" And I think, this is the chalice I saw on the altar when I prayed my daily of-fering, but through the day's events now it is a chalice of frustration and incomprehension, like the one Jesus chose in union with the Father's will. Now I have, in deed and in fact, just such a chalice to complete the offering I made to the Father through this morning's words of offer-ing. Visit to a Bairro and Back Coincidentally, on the very day I was planning what to say in a con-ference on "prayer and action" to lay ministers of an impoverished com-munity on the outskirts of an important urban center in northwest Bra-zil, the events I recount below took place. My day began with a reflection on the situation of the great majority of families living in this bairro spread out all over this dry, unproduc-tive area, whose only "in

Issue 36.1 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Braiding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright @ 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U,S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January 1977 Volume 36 Number I Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW I~OB R~L~GXOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to B~vi~w Foa R~LmlOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Review for Religious Volume 36, 1977 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read, Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November 6n the fifteenth cff the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~) 1977 by Review ]or Religious. Sand Traps for Renewal Programs Francis Blouin, F.I.C. Brother Blouin, who has written for REVIEW FOR RELI~31OUS before, has recently completed six years of service as provincial, an,d is presently enrolled in a full-time doctoral program in theology at Fordham University. He resides at 93 Park Terra'ce West; New York, NY 10034. ' For more than. ten years now, most of the communities of religious in the United States have made valiant efforts to be attentive to the injunction of Vatican II, Renew Thyself. Considerable energy, valuable time, impressive sums of~ money were expended in a host of activities and programs, in seminars and renewal sessions, in chapters and mini-chapters, in experi-mentation and adaptation. Many congregations which have .not initiated . renewal programs are either dead or dying; however, those that are involved in renewal efforts are not necessarily alive and well. Though it is impossible accurately to evaluate this determined effort, I would like to reflect in the following pages upon some Of the factors which might,have vit.iated the .dreams and the programs so optin~istically conceived and so enthusiastically endorsed. This exercise might ,appear quite negative, but it can help direct our thinking-in an area of renewal that might offer more chance of success, or discover a few,.of the reasons why some pro-grams have produced disappointing results. During the past six years, I was involved in a number oLrenewal pro-grams and was an active member of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. The following reflections are based in great part upon my. personal observations and my prolonged discussions with superiors, of men.~ My"con-tacts with~religious superiors of women lead me to surmise that the results of their renewal activities are quite similar to those of men religious, though somewhat more encouraging. 4 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 I would classify the sources of tension and frustration in the renewal effort under six headings: 1) Con,versiOn o] Heart; 2)Interiorization of Re-ligious Values; 3) Psychological Factors; 4) American Success Ethic; 5) Influence of Mass Media; and 6) Fragmentation. Conversion of Heart I am absolutely convinced that the most significant factor for the failure of many renewal programs was the fact that too often renewal efforts were based upon external programs which did not lead to a true conversion of heart. We cannot convert ourselves, let alone convert others. Yet we know that the Lord is ever calling us to greater love and fidelity and asking us only to remove the obstacles to his presence. In some religious communities in the 50's and 60's, community prayers were too often a ritualization of set formulas rather than an encounter with the living God present to all life. The prayer life of many religious was based upon an inadequate spiritual formation without sound scriptural basis. Furthermore, most religious were encouraged to develop a certain discretion, even circumspection, in speaking of their God-experiences. Spon-taneous shared prayer was seen as a threat to spiritual modesty and some even hesitated to speak freely and openly to their spiritual director (when they had one!). Thus, prayer was often considered a community activity rather tha~n a personal encounter with the Lord. Unfortunately, some of the religious who were most faithful and regular to the traditional forms of prayer were adamant against any change or adaptation and thus created a negative tension, while some of the most dedi-cated individuals openly questioned the need for prayer, further discrediting the God-encounter. In the 60's, when many communities granted religious considerable freedom in their prayer life, many religious simply ceased to pray rather than replace community prayers by longer, more intense periods of individ-ual prayer. Pragmatic, work-oriented Americans had been educated to recite prayers, to chant psalms, to meditate cognitively, but had been given woefully little education in contemplation and little incentive to be open to this vital form of prayer. They had been so active doing that they forgot that prayer was: .waiting, receiving, listening, centering, contemplating, creating a void, being open to the small still voice within, being present to a Presence. While they scurried from program to program and from .activity to activity, they'forgot to sit attentively and listen to the Lord speaking within. Man~y communities ~are now re-directing their renewal efforts, and it is this new orientation to a more contemplative stance that is giving new reason for hope. Communities that are still discussing "whether one should pray if one doesn,t feel like praying" or "whether one's work is one's prayer" are not in process of renewal: they are dying. Sand Traps Ior Renewal Programs Commuriities lose their raison d'etre unless they are gatherings of men and women of God whose lives find their meaning and sustenance in a personal relationship to Christ and provide moments and occasions of con-version of heart, an ever-to-be-renewed process. .,~'Without' personal prayer, a deeply religious life ~simply cannot develop, because no one can be a witness to Christ unless he knows Christ personally.'" ~ lnteriorization of Values A value has little influence upon a person unless it has been interior-ized: adequately formulated, clearly understood, generously accepted. Yet it is the unusual person who has interiorized his true values early in life. A significant number of religious entered religious life at an early age and quite often during their initial formation period, they were asked to conform to certain standards or to adopt definite procedures, more through trust in a person or a Rule, than through a reasoned, logical.process. "They were not to question why, they were to do ~and die." There are no shortcuts to an authentic religious formation which is a life-long process of growth in the understanding, acceptance and love of gospel values. Values cannot be legislated or decreed. They must be freely accepted after a long process of reflection and contemplation. It-is evident that this was not always done. Some religiou.s were willing to conform to set values when the external structures and the social climate supported and re-enforced these values/but they later discarded the same values be-cause these had not been properly interiorized. Long-established practices were~ often quickly abandoned because no rationale had been given for them. To try tO return to a system of regimentation.would be futile. "Religious life.with its demands of chastity, poverty, obedience and perpetual commit-ment can only be understood by a fully adult person . There are certain things, such as the need for affection, the security of a home, certain en-gagements and above all an affirmed need for independence, which a person cannot renounce too soon without doing himself harm., for a minimum of human maturity.is necessary to enter the religious life, and this minimum . may be long in coming,''~ Religious must .!iv, e in authentic freedom, the gospel freedom which is "not the power to choose between several possibilities, but is the reasoned ¯ decision, springing from the person's inmost depths, which causes him to follow at any price tl~e course that appears to be God's will. It is not a question of 'do as you please,' 'do what appeals to you,' but 'do coura-geously what you know your God has called you to accomplish.' This free-dom is linked with the inner power that enables each person to fulfill himself 1Ladislas Orsy, Open to the Spirit, p. 245. . ~Ren6 Voillaume, Con]erence o! Religious Superiors, Feb. 1970. 6 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 in terms of his truth, by. making a choice that is absolutely Consistent with his fundamental calling.''3 . This is the freedom that will give religious the desire, the conviction and the strength to live the gospel values of simplii:ity, poverty, celibacy for the kingdom, a life of contemplation and service, a life that is attentive to the call of the Spirit. The example of all revolutions certainly must have taught us that free-dom has to be learned. Tillard states that "it is essential to ~ve all members of the group an education in freedom; that is the first task of authority, the initial effort that 'precedes its fruitful ~xercise.''4 If values must be interiorized through a long reflective process, then it is useless for ~religious communities to attempt~ renewal through legislative reforms or by the imposition of new structures: The most important role of superiors is to establish in the community conditions that will. permit a true conversion o/. heart, encourage religious to~ deepen and strengthen their personal convictions, and promote~an atmosphere that will facilitate a true encounter,with each other and with the Lord. Psychological Factors ~ ~ During the p.ast ten years,~religious educators have generally stressed the values of openness, flexibility, adaptability, creativity, confidence, per-sonalism, sharing; and the initial formation programs areofrequently offered in one's normal milieu," This is quite different from the policies of the early 60's when Cardinal Suenens could state that the Church kvas in a period of "immobilism"; religious communities were strongly affected by this attitude. Religious educators stressed the values of conformity, perm.anence, stability, humility, obedience, self-denial; and religious formation was re-enforced by long periods of isolation from normal environments. Religious perfection was often considered conformity to set norms as proposed by the rules of the order. This radical change of attitude towards religious :formation is one bf the most significant develoPments of the past fifteen years. Formatioia is now seen ~is an on-going' process of growth,~ an ever-to-be-renewed activity e~nd-ing only at death. To have ceased to grow is already to have died. However, it was totally unrealistic and overly optimistic Co presume that religious who spent long years of their lives in a different value System, who were rarely e~ncouraged to share deeply, who were isolated at an early age, who were~often the victims of poor psychological practices, would b~ able to 'assume this radically different stance withrut deep anguish. That.many leaders greatly underestimated the difficulty of this adaptat~on and this over-sight partly explains the confusion and disarray of many renewal prograrias. :'I. M. R. Tillard, A Gospel Path, p. 73, Lumen Vitae Press, Belgium 1975. 4j. M. R. Tillard, ibid., p. 199. Sand Traps [or Renewal Programs / 7 It is a .credit to religious that so many were able to adapt and re-orient their thinking without major difficulty. I. would dare say that mhny religious communities are now plagued by the after-effects of .unsound and poorly adapted initial formation programs. I also believe this partly explains'why so many religious have a poor self-concept, have difficulty sharing at a value level, do not easily adjust to new situations. They were educated to stability and permanence when "one must now accept the. radicality of change, change that must go°right down to the roots . Change must be built into our systems so that they incor-porate flexibility and adaptability . The asceticism of today is to accept the agony of change. That's the discipline. It means study, dialogue, meet-ings, discussions, until you're sick of them. When you're sick, get healed and go back to the discussions.":' Religious communities should be. composed of individuals whom the love of Christ has so moved that they have given themselves 'totally to his cause and have united to transmit this love to others. They share their faith and their~ love and together build a community of believers, a com-munity of Christians. This can only be achieved in a real dialogue of love. American Success Ethic "There is nothing that succeeds .like succ6ss," and in the,50's and 60's, American religious wet6 "winners." They were highly respected, they en-joyed a privileged pbsition~in~ the ~urch and in society, their fiaembershilJ was increasing, and they .directed large, well-reputed institutions. They wanted to succeed, and they worked long hours for causes th~y esteemed yery highly. Too often however, they gauged their success according to human criteria rather than gospel values or by the authenticity of their witness to the Good News. One does not become a religious for human motives, but there is no doubt that success, respect, prestige, influence were definitemorale boosters for. pragmatic Americans. Because of past recognition and achievements it is now more difficult for religious to. accept rejection, failure; disalSproval, scorn. When. their apostolic work is questioned, their institutions closed, their values rejected; their ranks depleted, they become disheartened unless they remember that they _are simply being treated like the Mhster who was scorned, rejected, crucified. ~ Religious were so closely tied to their institutions that at times they confused means with ends, forgetting that they were first and foremost messe0gers of the gospel rather than professional workers. "To the degree to which an end is spiritual, the means employed to attain it are always inadequate. In fact, when speaking of a spiritual end, it is preferable today ~Fr. Cassian Yuhaus, C.P., Con[erence to Religious, Winslow, ME, Nov. 1975. Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 to avoid the word 'means,' for to our contemporaries the word evokes an action which obtains exactly the effect envisaged,''6 This period of confusion and turm6il may become for religious a period of great creative tension. Though their lives and their activities a~re in-carnated in a specific work-situation which may project few signs of human success, their gospel vision will enlighten an apparently hopeless situation and give their religious consecration its full depth of meaning. "Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies, it yields a rich harvest . Anyone who loves his life will lose it; anyone who hates his life in this world° will keep it for eternal life" (Jn 12:24-26). Now more than ever it is necessary, for religious to ponder the gospel message of failure, of inefficiency, of rejection, of death,,as well as the com-plementary message of success through failure, of life through death, of resurrection through annihilation. Father Pasquier states that: "It is impossible to bein communion with another before we have experienced our own poverty and our limitations. The quality of presence to others entails a risk of rejection. It is a risk that religious are called to take and from which they should not be sheltered by their vows.''7 Religious are now in the privileged position of experiencing their poverty and their weakness and are thus better able to commune with the weak and the rejected as well as with the strong and the respected. Influence of Mass Media Whether religious realize it or not, many have been gravely affected by the historical process of secularization. Some religious are now totally in-serted into a professional work-environment and they may have accepted almost imperceptibly many of the secular values so effectively propagated by mass media. The message of self-and~sense-gratification is in direct op-position to the gospel imperatives. , Self-denial and personal ascesis are in such ill repute that some religious have unwittingly accepted many of the pseudo-values and prevalent sophisms adroitly disseminated by our sense-sated society. It is never a pleasant prospect to accept experientially the reality of Christ's call to self-denial, but to speak seriously of renewal in religious life and ignore the injunction~ "Let him who wants to be my disciple, deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Mt 16:24), is nonsense. Very often religious simply do not realize the extent to which they are C'R6gamey, L'exigence de Dieu, p. 86, Quoted by Voillaume, Conlergnce o] Religious Superiors. :Jacques Pasquier, O.M.I., "Conference~on Spiritual Leadership." Sand Traps ]or Renewal Programs / 9 victimized by .mass media or subtly controlled by their professional en-vironment. Religious strove so strenuously for so many years to be fully integrated into the American culture that they forgot that by their religious consecration they had vowed to be "counter cultural." Some have suc-cumbed to the temptation of living a progressively more affiuent life-style or have been blinded by the glitter of wealth and the prestige of social status. It is useless to speak of renewal until the stark gospel message can once more be heard over the din of television commercials. "Where supposedly committed persons~seem to enjoy all the good things of life, the witness value is destroyed and not unusually, the whole person's sense of vocation along with it. He has fallen into the mistake not simply of imagining that things and experiences can make him happy, but that fulfillment or happi-ness itself can be directly sought.''8 Ordinary professional and religious obligations ,are certainly the main ingredients of a life of ascesis, yet Father George Maloney, S.J., in a course on prayer at Fordham University dared state: "It is impossible to make significant progress in prayer unless one is willing to practice ascesis with aggression." He was simply echoing St. John of the Cross: "Contemplation or detachment or poverty of spirit . are almost one and the same thing.'"' A life of authentic poverty, of generous service to others, of sensitivity to the Spirit, of loving celibate commitment, of creative solitude, of constant attentiveness to the Lord, are not possible unless one willingly accepts" the Lord,s clear challenge to self-denial. Many renewal efforts have come to naught because religious refused to pay the price. ~ Fragmentation I previously mentioned that' some of the values that are now cherished by certain religious communities are those of flexibility, openness, adapiabil-ity, creativity, personalism and I also indicated that most communities now permit a wide choice of apostolic works: All these positive values are to be respected, but if they are taken separately without consideration for stabil-ity,: permanence and community commitments, they can lead to a fragmenta: tion of the group, a qoss of identity with the community and an impover-ishment of the sense of missi6n. For a religious, "to do his own thing" or "to go his own way" may be an, acceptable temporary solution to a difficult problem, but it will rarely be satisfactory in the long run. Many communities have a number of religious "on the fringe" members who are hardly associated with the larger group either in body or in spirit. If this trend becomes .generalized, it could be disastrous for the communities. SRichard Jo Kropf, "Radical Commitment and Fulfillment," Spiritual LiJe, Summer, 1975, p. 91. ~'John of the Cross, Dark Night, I, Chap. 4, par. 1. Review [or Religious, V~lume 36, 1977/1 "A community cannot exist long in the Church, unless it is dedicated to giving collectively.''1° Furthermore, it. is not sufficient for individuals to 6e renewed. The whole community, or a significant number of members, must make deter-mined efforts at renewal. 'In every community there are a number of re-ligious who have: come alive during the past years, but sometimes these members are stymied or frustrated by a lethargic~ apathetic group. "For a revitalization to occur, transformation must go beyond the personal. It must penetrate and reshape the. social reality of the community. If the cen-tering of personal-transformation is ekperienced~:by a number ~of people within the community, then a network can emergd through which that trans-forming experience is '~ustained, supported, enhanced. As the sharing of transformational experiences and awareness deepens and intensifies, there emerges a group with a shared vision and codamitment~.~This group becomes a revitalizing force dedicated to building more rewarding community ex-periences and recovering the gripping attraction to living according to Christ's conditions.for .evangelical discipleship.'''1 When this revitalization occurs to'a significant number of people in the cbmmunity great things~ begin to happen, a new life pulsates through the group and a spirit (Spirit?) comes alive in the community._ Possible Orientations It is impossible' for me to indicate what could or should be done by each community to promote a true renewal. Let me simply raise a few ques-tions that may suggest some possible orientations in groups seriously dedi-cated to renewal. l. Are the difficulties~experienced by many communities in organizing community discussions that are a true faith-sharing,due mainly to psy-chological factors, poor knowledge of group dynamics, or weak religious motivations? What .specific steps have been. taken by your community to facilitate this meaningful exchange? 2. Is it POssible for ygu, for your community to live with insecurity, contradiction, rejection? IS this contrary to the gospel teaching? 3. How does your co,,mmunity determine the priorities of personnel, of time~, of resources in selecting an apostolic work? If apostolic choice is left to the individual, what efforts are made to determine a priority .of ac-tivity? 4. Has your community ever tried to gauge the ~impact of mass media upon community values? How many religious in your community are slaves to the "one-eyed monster?" a~°Ladislas Orsy, "Talk, given to Conference of Major JSuperiors,:' America, August 8, 1970, p. 59. ~Lawrence Cada and Raymond iZitz, REVIEW FOa REL~OOS, Vol. 34, No. 5, p. 716. Sand Traps ]or Renewal Programs 5. Is contemplation a common and regular form of individual prayer in your community? What is the attitude of the community towards this form of prayer? ~ 6. Do you define yourselves in terms of your work or in terms of your status? What conclusions can you draw from this? 7. What percentage of the religious in your communities have partici-pated in some more prolonged renewal program within the last three years? five years? eight .years? What does this indicate about your group? 8. Is the life-style in your communities consonant with a religious com-mitment to poverty? In what way? 9. "Christian leadership is accomplished only through service. This service requires the willingness to enter into a situation with all the human vulnerabilities a man has to share with his fellowman" (Henri Nouwen, Wounded Healer, p. 77). Does this quotation quite adequately portray, your district and com-munity leaders? 10. What is the community attitude towards tension? When is it a positive sig9 of growth? When is it a negative factor in the community? 11'. Do community discussions occasionally lead to specific decisions which can be implemented? Why is it so difficult to reach a consensus when specific proposals are suggested? 12. Are religious in your community personally affected by the plight of the 450,000,000 people in the world who are on a starvation diet? What specific activities have been taken by your community to alleviate this situa-tion? 13. Do religious in your community have the freedom to challenge each other to fidelity to sacred promises publicly expressed? If not, what does this indicate? - 14. Do your communities have an effective way of evaluating~the initial formation program? 15. Are long-term institutional: commitments still possible or desirable? How are these to be implemented if everyone is free to choose his own apostolic activity? , Let me conclude by a quo.tation from Father Ladislas Orsy: "Since re-ligious life is the existential gift of God, any question about the future of religious life is a question about the future ~of God's abundance in the Church, about the dynamic action of the Holy Spirit among his pebple-- thus it is not, subject ~to human power. If God gave this gift in the past, he is not likely to deprive, his Churcl~ of it in,the future.''~ V-'Ladislas Orsy, op. cit., p. 21. Seven-hundred-and-fifty years later: Reflections on the Franciscan Charism Eric Doyle, O.F.M. Fr. Eric Doyle, O.F.M. teaches at the Franciscan Study Centre, Canterbury CT2 7NA. Kent, England. This year marks the seven-hundred-and-fiftieth anniversary of the death of St. Francis of Assisi at the Portiuncula on October 3rd 1226. The sources for his life record that larks gathered on the roof above where he lay dying and sang sweetly as he welcomed Sister Death into his life? No one would deny that on that Saturday evening in 1226 a most holy man, a truly human man and a faithful disciple of Christ Crucified passed over to God. And the earth was made the poorer for that passing. Already in various parts of the world there have been courses of lec-tures and celebrations to mark the event and there will be quite a few more before the year has ended. Eulogies will be made in many languages and no doubt St: Francis from his place in heaven will hear himself hailed again as "Patron of the Environment" and "Patron of Ecumenism." The anniversary provides a good opportunity for a Franciscan to reflect on the order's efforts to come to terms with the demands to rediscover its own charism made over the last decade or so since the Second Vatican Council.-Though my ~primary concern is the First Order of Franciscans, and specifically the Order of Friars Minor, I think these reflections will have some relevance for the Conventuals, the Capuchins and the various branches of the Third Order Regular as well, for it is the same charism aSee "Legend of Perugia," 110, in St. Francis o] Assisi. Writings attd Early Biogra-pities, English Omnibus Edition o] the Sources ]or the Li]e o] St. Francis. Ed. by Marion A. Habig. Franciscan Herald Press, ChiCago 1973, 1085-1086. ~ . , Reflections on the Franciscan .Ch~arism / 13 which ultimately inspires them all. These reflections may have even wider relevance. Orders which lead the so-called "mixed" life share many of the same problems in facing the demands of renewal. The Question of Poverty These pages contain no detailed analysis of poverty. In the case of an order which has been so intimately assdciated wiih the profession of pov-erty, this calls for a word of explanation. For the Franciscan Order the question of poverty is ambiguous. It can be a very complicated question and it can be a very simple question, according to the approach one takes to it. For the order as it is de facto organized in the world, poverty is a complicated question. It cannot be examined or discussed in any realistic or satisfactory way if it is isolated from the findings of biblical exegesis and the understanding of poverty in the bible, from a study of all the ele-ments contained in the idea of evangelical perfection which relati;cize the place of poverty in the life and writings of St. Francis, 'from the question about the extent and effectiveness of apostolic activity; and from the de-mands made on the order to find resources to cope with and provide for the numbers who seek to enter it. No one would deny that the Franciscan Order should bE involved in work among the poor. At the theoretical level this is almost a truism for. the Franciscan. At the practical level, however, it is no easy matter to de-termine who precisely are the poor today. While the term certainly covers the homeless, th'e destitute, the oppressed and the exploited, it may also be used to describe countless millions all over the globe who ar~ spiritually impoverished. But even when we have arrived at a moderat~ely sa!isfactory answer to the question': Who are the poor?, we find at once that there are required no mean resources, for example, to have a friar trained to be a ~ompetent and reliable apostle among social outcasts. For the order to providd re-sources to train a friar as a professional social worker is a deeply Christian work and a tremendous act of service to the world. : On the°'~other hand, the question of poverty can be very simple. If a person reads the accounts of the early history of the order and is convinced that the poverty which St. Francis and his first companions embraced is the unique charism of the order, and feels assured that he is called to do the. same, then that person must go and do likewise and thus institute a new branch of the Franciscan Order in the world. The same obligation, it seems, would rest upon a professed friar who became conscientiously convinced that the order has sacrificed an essential element of its charism and mission to the wrrld in abandoning the poverty of St. Francis. He would be bound quite simply to leave the order as it is and to establish another form of the Franciscan life. It would be pointless to ask him where he would go, because, from that moment onward, total ' 14 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 abandonment to divine providence would be of the structure of his voca-tion, and he would literally have to wait for something to turn up. What he certainly cotild not do would be to stay in the order as it is now consti-tuted, passing away his days in criticizing it and growing old in bitterness, while living by its resources and in its security. Perhaps at the very outset we ought to familiarize with these difficulties all who seek to join us. They would then be able to make such considerations a conscious factor in their decision to join us or not. We should also make sure they know by experi-ence that the gospel spirit of St. Francis does live on in the order, despite the fact that his povertyis not observed. I do not wish to suggest that the order as it now finds itself can'simply ignore the question of poverty. In .fact it has not ignored it over the last decade. There have been many attempts to come to terms with it at the practical level. But it remains problematic.~ However, the issue cannot be discussed in these pages, nor can a.ny assessment be made of the at-temp~ s to come to terms with poverty, firstly, because it would take far too lorlg and, secondly, because while it isundoubtedly an important issue, it is not, in our opinion, the most important issue for the life and mission of the order. There are more vital matters to be considered to which we now shall turn: Rediscovery of the Origi'nal Charism, The Second Vatican Council called all religious to rediscover the par-ticular charism given to the Church in the grace of their origins and to renew and adapt their life according to its form. By a proces.s of discernr ment in the light of the gospel and according to the signs of the times-- that is by Word and wprld--religious were required to define the specific ahd permanent acquisition made by the Church in the life and work of their particular order. ~Th, e FranCiscan~ Order, like every order, belongs to the Church. Only in virtue of its ecclesial character can it be understood in its specific genius at any moment of its higtory and as a renewal movement at its origins. Apa.rt from the Church, the Franciscan Order is ultimately meaningless. St. Francis himself was not only a man of the gospel, but also and by that very'fact, he was a man of the Church. Therefore, the attempt by any order 6r congregation to discover its own particular grace is not anexercise in self-analysis, but a profound act of service to the Church. The call to rediscover the original charism ~raised ~t once a question for the Franciscan Order which .has not yet been satisfactorily treated. The question is this: Is the original charism to be sought uniquely in the period between the oi'al approval of the Rule by Pope Innocent and the death '-'We have touched onosome, of these problems in "Reflections on the Theology of Religiou.s Life," REv~:w FOR RELICIOOS, vol. 32, n. 6. Nov. 1973, 1254-1256. Reflections on the Franciscan Charism of St. Francis (1209-1226), or is' it to be sought throughout the first cen-tury of the order's history from the approval of the Rule to the death of John Duns Scotus (1209-1308)? This is not just an academic question, but a matter of some concern to any Franciscan conscious of the profound contribution made to the development of Christology by the Franciscan School, in the first century of its history, The order has beew far :to6 pre-occupied in its renewal program with the period up to the death of St. Francis. This is an unjust .and uncritical restriction of the content of tile Franciscan charism. Of course, the call to rediscover the charism required of us to return to St. Francis himself. About that there is no argument. The complaint being made here concerns the well-nigh exclusive preoccupa-tion with the early years of the order's life, which drasticallyotruncates the order's charism. Many reasons might be suggested to explain this restrictive version of the charism. I wish to single out,the one which bears most responsibility. It is romanticism. Romanticism has exercised far too much influence on judgments of the order's history since the death of St. Francis. It has given the order a bad conscience, especially over the last eighty years or so since Paul Sabatier's views became common patrimony? What we can describe in general terms as the "Fioretti-picture" of the early years, has exercised inordinate influence over the general public and over the scholarly fraternity, particularly its non-Catholic representatives. We need to be on our guard in the presence of romantics. Their understandable sadness at the way the order developed can have the most extraordinary effe°ct on how they .read the sources . ,~,J When the, Franciscan Order, for example, in late fourteenth-century English history is described.by students of Wyclif, Chaucer and Langlan~d ,as "decadent" I have often concluded that we really ought to read in many cases no~t "decadent" but,"different"--that is, different from the little band of beggars which landed at Dover in September 1224 and different from the early days at Rivo Torto. Disapl;ginted and sad romantics are a dangerous breed. The "romantic myth" has had profound .though subconscious influence on the order, It has subtly brainwashed~ us into believing that if only we could repeat as " closely as ,possible the form of life which .S~. Francis led, if only we could do away with the ~whole intellectual edifice which the orde{ constructed for itself, then we would be true and authentic Franciscans. From these remarks it will be clear where we intend to place the locus of the original Franciscan charism. According to our view the original charism is to be sou.ght in the period~from the approval of the Rule in 1209 up to the death of John Duns Scotus in 1308. To return to the sources means, for a Franciscan, a return to the first hundred years of develop- :~Vie de S. Francois d'Assise, l~dition drfinitive (Paris: Fischbache'r, 1931). 16 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 ment in doctrine and life. The fullness of the charism is to be found there and not exclusively in the life and teaching of St. Francis. It is quite legiti-mate, in function of. this, to consider the Franciscan charism under two headings: form of life and Christological doctrine. The first concerns the evolution of the order's life in the thirteenth century. The second concerns the development of the Christology in the Franciscan School in the thir-teenth century. The results of historical analysis show that the form of Franciscan life changed radically from what St. Francis had intended and that the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School remained totally faithful to his original Christocentric inspiration. The ,Form of Life The foundation of the Franciscan Order in the thirteenth century marked a new stage in the history of the religious life in the Wefftern Church. While it. is clearly the case that St. Francis intended to establish an order in the commonly accepted sense of that term, it is equally clear that he was conscious of its radical newness. According to his intention, the order was to be a brotherhood of itinerant apostles--whether priests or manual workers, or, as we should say today, professional men--who would go into a society that was still Christian and also go out to foreign lands among the ~Saracens, to spread the gospel of peace and reconciliation by the ministry of the Word and the apostolate of presence. For a period of time that intention was realized. Whenever the friars met they showed that they were members of the same fraternity and they offered one another mutual help and support. At the end of their day's work they returned to their small communities to be refreshed bodily and spiritually, to pray together, and to draw strength from their fraternal cele-bration of the Eucharist. Thus renewed and restored, they were able to return to their mission of sharing with others what they themselves had re-ceived so generously from being together in the "local church" 6f their own community. As is universally ~recognized, this did not remain for very long the pat-tern of life of the order. Due to internal tensions and from ~xternal pres-sures from the demands of the apostolate at the time and from the wishes ~f the Holy See, the order was compelled to take a line of development which° radically changed what St. Francis had intended and what the original form of life had been. There are those who look upon this as a Salutary de-velopment, precisely because it took place ultimately under the authority and guidance of the Holy See. While this attitude demands sor~e respect, it also creates difficulties in ,deciding which has priority between the poles of institution and charism. In responding to the call to rediscover its original charism (and it was the institution which gave the call) the Franciscan Order found itself in a slightly embarrassing position. As it retracted the steps of its development Re[tebtions on the Franciscan Charism / 17 through a very checkered history back to the thirteenth centur);, it discovered that.~it was largely due to the institution that an important element in its charism :h~id been lost. The loose structure of its form of life had been heavily instituti6nalized and the fraternity had been "monastified" and "hierarch-ized" almost beyond recognition. Institution and Charism From the outset there has been tension in the Franciscan Order between charism and institution. St. Francis himself, who is always proclaimed as a most obedient son of the Holy Roman Church, managed to get his own way with the wily and astute Pope Innocent IIl. One wonders what would have been the outcome if the pope had refused him permission to live his very distinctive interpretation of the Gospel. Perhaps he would have be-come a hermit. To the end of his days, in any case, he remained convinced that what he desired his order to be was completely at one with the will of God." The turn of events in the thirteenth century gaye the order a very dif-ferent character from that which it possessed in its early decades. The con-stitutional development from the late 1230's up to the Chapter of Nar-bonne in 1260 is the history of a gradual "monastification" of the order. This cannot in justice be laid exclusively at the door of St. Bonaventure, for the winds of change had already been blowing for nearly thirty years when he was elected Minister General." By the end of the thirteenth century the order had been substantially altered, due in 'large measure to the institu-tional Church, for what were undoubtedly the most laudable ends. Of course, there were also internal reasons for the change and it would '1See Lawrence C. Landini, The Causes o] the Clericalization O[ the Order o] Friars Minor 1209-1260 in the Light o] Early Franciscan Sottrces (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1968). We have given rio consideration here to St. Bonaventure's theology of history nor to his eschatological interpretation of the life of St. Francis. These highly developed aspects of St. Bonaventure's thought played no significant part in the order's self-understanding and program of renewal during the past decade. For this reason we have not touched on his solution of the "Franciscan Question." This omission, therefore, should not be understood as a value judgment. Our concern is ¯ with those aspects of the original charism which have been re-discovered and, with varying degrees of success, reduced to practice, and with other aspects which deserve further consideration, which ought to influence the o.rder's continuing renewal. St. Bonaventure's eschatological interpretation of St. Francis is, in our view, the most satisfactory solution to the problem about th~ order's relation to St. Francis. It is, however, not only, satisfactory; it is" also fully consonant with the way the early sources present him and the ~rimitive community. It has most relevance in any dis-cussion of Franciscan poverty, for it raises the question not only whether the order can or cannot observe St. Francis' poverty, but whether or not it is even meant to observe it. To assess St. Bonaventure's place in the development of the order in the thii'teenth century, without taking into serious account his theology, of history and his eschatological interpretation of St. Francis, leads to profound misunderstanding of that development and commits injustice against St. Bonaventure. Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 be unhistorical to place responsibility entirely on the Holy See.-It is no idle speculation to ponder what the order might have been, had it not experi-enced the process of clericalization in the thirteenth century and had Friar Elias not alienated so many while he held office. But in the final analysis, one is compelled to conclude that the Holy See can hardly be :said to havi~ done all in its power to preserve what St. Francis so plainly intended. This was the result of tension between charism and institution. The Church ha~s known this tension in varying degrees of intensity ever since the New Testament, and perhaps." never so acutely as over the last two decades. Tension arises precisely because both institution and charism proceed from the grace of God. Charisms are given to the Church for the sake of the institution; the prophet is alw~iys sent to renew the institution. The sad story is, however, that so often the institution resists the charism because'it threatens the established order; it leads out into the unknown and the uncharted. The temptation for the institution is always to neutralize a charism by institutionalizing it. This is not done maliciously or even con-sciously. But it is done and it is done effectively. The intentions of St. Francis could not easily be categorized. They were not neat and tidy, cut and dried, but on the contrary, like himself; paradoxical and a fraction complicated. I have never believed that this passionate, romantic and ambitious young man was ever as simple as some of his biographers have inade out. Of course, he did not have a legal mind; he had the soul of a poet'sand poets are notoriously difficult to pin down. In his own head ior perhaps better: in his own heart) everything was crystal clear: he. wanted to 'live the life of the gospel according to the form that God 'had revealed to him. One can sympathize with Rome, ithei:efore,t whose genius has always been principa!ly of the legal order. How does one categorize an intention that expresses itself in a Rule for itinerant apostles which is identified with the gospel, and in another for hermitages that al-lows for a change of rbles between Martha and Mary according to what seems best for the moment? Aspects of the Charism Rediscovered In going back to its original inspiration, the Franciscan Order knew in its heart that,~it simply could not recreate in our time the full intentions of St. Francis. However, it has mandged to reintroduce some of the essential elements of his charism, and what it has done is a sple6did achievement. 1. Over the last ten years the order has "de-monastified" itself and restored in principle its truly fraternal character. It is now more obviously an Order of Friars, some of whom are engaged in priestly work, others in manual work inside'~and outside the order and still others who Are engaged in professional work. There is a deep consciousness of what it means e~xistenti~ally to be a Franciscan friar. This consciousness is growing alsace and it will ultimately be in complete possession. Reflections on the Franciscan Charism / 19 2. There has also been a gradual "de-clericalization" of the order. This does not necessarily mean a reduction in the number of priests (though this will happen, I think) nor does it imply, nor should it ever have im-plied, an anti-priest complex, The order was unfortunately plagued .with that complex for a period after the Council. To be a priest does not neces-sarily mean to be clericalized. There are many young priests, middle-aged p~iests and elderly priests in the order who are most certainly not clerical-ized; but then there are some who .are. Clericalization creates an elite and a,:caste system. There is no true place for an elite or a caste system in the Franciscan Order, nor, for that mat~.er, .in the Church at large. The Church knows no hierarchy of persons but acknowledges only a hierarchy of func-tions and at its pinnacle is service. Moreover, authority has been restored to its original role, according to the understanding of St. Francis, as a ministry and service to the friars. This has had its influence also on the gradual abolition of hierarchical structures from the order. 3. Experiments of living the Franciscan life in small communities have proved in the main successful and have undoubtedly enriched the quality of community life. This has been one of the most significant contributions of all our efforts to restore the fraternal character of the order. There have been losses, excesses and mistakes. But these are negligible when compared with the gains, the openness and the insights we have harvested. Franciscan life in small communities or groups has. proved to be far more demanding on the individual friar than it ever ~was in the heavily structured .forms of life we knew for so long, Our experiences have taught us that life in small communities requires a high degree of human and Christian maturity: For life thus lived is a creative process, not a structured, unchanging pattern into which one is fitted. 4. Many of these small communities have been established in the center of towns and cities where the realities of modern living, its pressures and demands may be witnessed and experienced at first hand. A number of friars in such communities have taken up ~work in social organizations often not' instituted by the Church nor directly connected with it. These developments have given concrete expression to other aspects of the original charism and primitive form of life. Unlike~the older monastic orders, the friars settled in the heart~ iof towns and cities where they were brought face to face with the social evils of the time: As a result, the Franciscans were closely con-nected with the foundation of medieval guilds, the ,distant0ancestors of the modern trade unions. They supported the organization of workers into guilds. which protected the legitimate material interests of the workers and fur-thered their spiritual lives. Some of the charters of these guil~ls were drawn up in the refectories of the friars or on the altars of their churches. Later on, in the fifteenth century, the iniquities of t~sury led the Franciscans to establish the Montes Pietatis--an institution which guarantees them a place for all time in social history. All these developments may be traced back 20 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 to St. Francis himself who, from the outset of his conversion, was involved in caring for lepers, one of the greatest social evils of the Middle Ages. The modern form of the apostolate of presence: living at the heart of urban life and working from within non-ecclesiastical social structures, is really a reduction to practice of The Canticle o[ Brother Sun 'and of St. Bonaventure's beautiful work On Retracing the Arts to Theology. For the Franciscan there is no distinction between the sacred and the profane. The problems of what is described as secularization prove for a Franciscan to be false problems~ This is now simply man's world and man is made in the image of Christ and Christ is the image of the Father we cannot see. The Spirituality of St. Francis The rediscovery of the basic elements of Franciscan spirituality has been the most rewarding of all. A comparative study of the spirituality of the Conciliar documents and the writings of St. Francis shows how incredibly modern this very medieval man turns out to be. His spirituality is simply Jesus Christ. The thoroughly biblical and sacramental, above all eucharistic, char-acter of his piety and holiness make it clear that it was our spirituality and practices of piety that had to be brought up-to-date, renewed and reformed, not his! There is nothing nauseating about his spirituality, nothing repulsive about his piety. There° is not one line, not one word, in the expressions of his evangelical holiness that need be changed, corrected or expunged. He loved the God-Man in all his poverty and humanity, in all his kindness and suffering. He loved him absolutely, without qualification. He loved Christ not only with his whole heart, but with his whole soul and mind and strength. His conversion was complete because it was born of love. Every-thing he said and sang, everything he desired and longed for, his every though and deed, came from and led back directly to his love of Jesus Christ. The most distinctive feature of his holiness is its tenderness. And it bears that feature because he was a passionate man. He did not extinguish in himself the fire of passion; he redirected it by grace into the love of Christ, where it burned more ardently in the all-consuming flame of the love of Christ's heart for the Father and for all creation. Our renewed understanding of the totally Christocentric spirituality of St. Francis has Shown the order that in its common life of prayer it does not need a multiplication of devotions and practices of piety. To: be faithful to the spirituality of St. Francis requires of the friars to live and work, to think and pray;" after the example of the life Jesus led on earth, by the power of his glorified existence with the Father, in the beauty of his vestiges and images in creation, according to the message of his Word, through his selfless love in the Blessed Eucharist and together with his brethren in the Church. All of which may be summarized by saying that we must live by his threefold presence in our midst; his verbal presence (the proclamation Reflections on the Franciscan Charism of the gospel, among us); his sacramental presence (preeminently the eucharistic celebration); his mystical,.pregence (the community of believers which gathers to proclaim and celebrate his victory over death and his faith-ful witness' to love). The Tension That Remains "~ None of these changes according to~ the form of the original charism has been achieved without suffering and bitterness; This is the sad side. to the history' of renewal and reform in the Church generally. However, it was an inevitable and predictable concomitant to the renewal from the begin-ning and it is,'rooted in the tension between institution and charism. The movement for reform initiated by the Council brought to the surface two diametrically opposed views of the Church which have been labeled, not satisfactorily though not unjustly, as reactionary-conservative and liberal-progressive. The fears of the former soon turned to suspicion; the enthusi-asm of the latter speedily became intrlerance. And for a time the .result was deadlock and suffering on both sides. Tension between institution and charism can be healthy and construc-tive. It can also be deadly and,destructive if attitudes polarize. As an out-come of the changes in the order's form of life there was a polarization of attitudes. Two basic attitudes emerged which differed radically about what had taken place and" what were being predicted as the .lines of future development. The attitudes correspond to the labels reactionary and liberal. The tension between these polarized attitudes 'is by no means as acute now as it was five years ago, but it is still present. From a state of complete in-ability to communicate, a modus vivendi was eventually found, based on an unspoken and precarious truce to steer clear of all that might open the wounds. Now, thanks to more openness ~on the one side and.greater tolerance on the other, the truce has given place to a willingness to dialogue and the gigns areothat the tension will become creative. Up to the present, however, while having had some creative and productive effect, it has been largely negative and counter,productive. Two "orders" have been existing side by side in the one order. But now the signs are that they are growing towar~s unity once more. This tension continues to exist in varying degrees of intensity through-out all the provinces of the order. To a greater or less extent it concerns every aspect of the charism in relation to our form of life and every attempt to reduce it to practice. But the deepest tension has been caused by the opposing views on what may be described as the order's apostolate of presence. The one view maintains that it is our vocation to engage in priestly ministerial work, in charitable works centered upon our friaries ~and in domestic works within the friaries, which latter ensure that they remain habitable and in good condition, so that the former works may be carried 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 on with competence and efficiency. To these works the major part of the order is now committed and thi~ commitment has come to pass by the demands made upon us and the indications given to us by °the institutional Church, whether the Holy See or the diocesan bishops. These works; it is argued, have been assigned to us by the 'authority of the Church and there-fore they are clearly what we are meant to do unde'i: God: Furthermore, they put us in direct contact with the evolution of the order as this took place under the guidance of the Holy .See in the thirteenth century. This is a version of the adage, "Roma locuta est"; it gives priority to the institu-tion. It maintains that priestly work is the ~paradigm of the Franciscan apostolate. This view is prepared to admit that some friars might well work in other forms of the apostolate which are .neither priestly nor ministerial nor centered upon a friary. These forms of the"apostolate, however, have significance only insofar as they~ proceed ultimately from the priestly min-istry and eventually lead back to it. The other view maintains that it is our vocation to spread the gospel message by our presence in the world. This can be fulfilled in a large variety of ways; by priestly ministerial work and charitable works centered upon our friaries; by priestly ministerial work and charitable works not centered upon our friaries; by domestic work inside and, outside our friaries; by professional work outside the friaries in ecclesiastical institutions-or non-ecclesiastical institutions~ by taking up salaried trades and professions out-side ecclesiastical institutions. This view, it is argued, is in direct continuity with the earliest years of the order's history and is a version of the saying of St. Francis that the Holy Spirit is the Minister General of the Order; it gives priority to the original charism. It holds that there is no special paradigm for the Franciscan apostolate and that the order must balance the demands made by the institution with the clear requirements of the charism, even if this means that we may have to sacrifice some of the areas in which we are exclusively committed to priestly ministerial work. Due to circumstances we could neither foresee nor control, these two views eventually reached the compromise of co-existence and then entered into dialogue. The circumstances which brought them together were the overall decrease in numbers of those entering the order, the high figure of those who left the order and an extraordinary awareness of the original charism among the majority of those who seek to enter~the order. This last phenomenon is remarkable, Its major effect has been that entrants to the order express their vocation simply in terms of wanting to be friars with-out further qualification.This is a reliable sign of how the future of the order will evolve. Christology and the Franciscan School . Earlier in this paper we insisted that the original charism of the order is to be sought not exclusively in the life and teaching of St. Francis but Reflections on the Franciscan Charism in the whole period that extends to the death of Duns Scotus, the last of the major representatives of the Franciscan School of Theology. We must examine the reasons which jrstify this position. During the period up to the death of Duns Scotus theologians of the order worked out a doctrine of the person and work of Christ and of his l~lace in the oikumene and cosmos that is as beautiful as it is original and as inspiring as it is profound. It stands out as a remarkable contribution to the development of Christology in the Church. Any study'or presentation of the original F.ranciscan charism that limits itself to the life of St. Francis not only misrepresents that charism, but also does disservice and injustice to the Church by depriving her of what,belongs to her by right. The Christo~ logical teaching of the Franciscan School is as much an essential element of the Franciscfin charism as is the fraternal character of the early order, ,the apostolate of presence, the Rule o/ 1221, the Rule ]or Hdrmitages, The Canticle of Brother Sun and the Rule of 1223. What Fr. Zachary Hayes, O.F.M. has written about the philosophy of education in the spirit of St. Bonaventure, may be applied without qualification to the Christological doctrine of the whole Franciscan School: : Those of us who stand heirs to that tradition have a weighty obligation to ~ee that such a tradition be not lost and that it be brought to bear in our world today. That it should have.come to be deposited with such clarity and power in the order that claims the poor, s~mple man of Assisi as its founder will no doubt puzzle those who tend to limit the meaning of that order in an unhistori-cal and arbitrary way. That its outstanding spokesman should be a Franciscan does not make it the private possession of the order. For what the order car-rieshere as in an earthen vessel is a treasure for the whole of the Church and a heritage for mankind as such. Certainly the order would be unfaithful to its tradition and remiss in its obligation to the Church and the world if'it were not to thke up" this tradition anew, in a creative way, in"a world for which one of the,most pervasive and potentially destructive idols is the ideal of rational control.'~ The Constitutions of the Order The General Constitutions of the order published in 1953 state in Arti-cle 238, par. 6:~.~'In the philosophical and theological faculties the lectors shall earnestly endeavour to follow the Franciscan School; they shall hold in high regard the other Scholastics, especially the Angelic Doctor, .St. Thomas, the Heavenly Patron of,Catholic Schools.''° Despite this exhorta-tion, however, the order as a whole has not endeavored as earnestly as it might have done to follow its own school. The manuals of philosophy and z",Toward a Philosophy of Education in the Spirit of St. Bonaventure," Proceedings ol the Seventh Centenary Celebration o/ the Death o] Saint Bonaventure (The Fran-ciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y., 1975), 26-27. 6The Rule and Constitutions o] the Order o] Friars Minor (Rome, 1953), 100. 24 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 theology, ,which were the staple intellectual diet of most of the houses of study in the ordei'~ were composed chiefly by authors of the Thomistic tradition (not always the same as the tradition of St. Thomas!), who tended to reduce the contents of the Franciscan tradition at best to footnotes and scholia, at worst, to being adverse to the thesis advanced. The high place accorded to St. Thomas in Catholic theology and the fact that he received honorable mention in the Code o] Canon Law made him the touchstone of orthodoxy and the gauge of true Catholic doctrine. The second title given to him--the Common Doctor--resulted in every other doctor becoming for the most part decidedly uncommon. In comparing the Dominican and Fran-ciscan Orders we find that the former exalted St. Thomas and tended to forget St. Dominic; the latter exalted St. Francis and tended to forget St. Bonaventure. Thus it is that we speak of the Thomistic School, not the Dominican School; of the Franciscan School, not the Bonaventurian School. This latter designation has further significance, as will be seen below. , In the Revised General Constitutions promulgated by the Minister General in December 1973, it is stated.in Article 20, par. 1: "Mental prayer should be based on the writings and example of Francis and on the teaching of the Franciscan masters. Nevertheless, each friar is free to choose the method~of prayer that suits him"r; in Article 170, par. 2: "Theological edu-cation should be encouraged in the order with special care. The greatest at-tention shouldobe given to the preparation of expert teachers of theology who will administer spirit and life after the intent of Francis and the other masters of the order"; ibid., par. 4: "Where there are no houses of study of the order, students should be given lectures on the~history and teaching of the Franciscan School"8; in the Introduction to Chapter Six: Formation to Franciscan LiIe: "Franciscan pedagogy, according to a thought-plan (dialec-tic) which continually renews itself, takes as its greater and most difficult task to bring together the divine with the human--a process begun by St, Francis and set in logical order by the Masters of the Franciscan School, a process rightly styled "thought in acting"--in other words, love.''° It is to be hoped that the spirit behind these statements in the new Constitutions will prevail over the strange indifference to the Franciscan theological tradition that has characterized the order in modern times and that it will eradicate the dull anti-intellectual element in the order which re-sulted from that fatal romanticism mentioned earlier. This anti-intellectual element has been making itself felt ifl'various parts of the order over the past few years. Its root lies in a subconscious belief that there is something rThe Plan ]or Franciscan Living. The Rule and General Constitutions o[ the Order of Friars Minor (English-Speaking Conference of Provincials: Pulaski, Wisconsin, 1974), 70. ,~ Slbid., 147, 148. °Ibid., 129-130. ~ Re~qections on the Franciscan Charism not quite authentic about a learned Franciscan or a Franciscan who wishes to devote his life to study. The popular picture of the Franciscan friar has had a surreptitious influence on the order. The Franciscan is expected to be a jolly friar, simple to the point of lunacy, preferably rotund in shape and bald into the bargain, rfiddy-face.d and definitely not learned, who trips through the world hoping to get a good dinner, but happy to sing to the sun if he does not. This picture is reproduced each year on hundreds of Christ-mas cards all over the world. (I have made a collection of the more amusing ones!) The irony of the popular picture is that it bears no resemblance what-ever to the first Franciscan, St. Francis himself was a man of joy, but in "no sense could he be called jolly; he had the simplicity of the dove but also the cunning of the serpent, just as the gospel says; he was a small man, thin and emaciated; not bald, but shaven-headed; his skin was delicate and his flesh very spare;1" though not learned in a bookish sense, he knew French, wrote tolerably good Latin, composed a very beautiful song and was ac-quainted with the intricacies of the cloth trade and he had some idea about building. His attitude to learning is at best ambiguous. In any case he ad-vocated reverence for theologians and Scripture scholars and he warned even those who work with their hands not to allow their work to extinguish the spirit of prayer and devotion. Despite Masseron's .fear that if St. Francis were to return to earth today, he would probably consign a Franciscan bibliography to Brother Fire,ll I am convinced that he would not destroy the sermons of St. Anthony, the works of St. Bonaventure nor the third book of Duns Scotus' Commentary on the Sentences. The Development of Christology ,. It is noteworthy and encouraging that the Renewed Constitutions ex-plicitly link the teaching of the Franciscan masters of St. Francis himself. Specifically, the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School took its origin from the insight of St. Francis into .the absolute centrality of the Word-made-flesh. His spirituality was centered totally on Christ. He gave concrete expression to it in devotion to the Crib, to our Blessed, Lady-- precisely because she made the Lord of Majesty our brother, to the Passion and Cross, to the Word of God in Scripture and to the Blessed Eucharist. To read of the imprinting of the stigmata on his poor body comes hardly as a surprise after a life spent in total conformity to the Gospel Christ. His initial encounter with Christ issued in a desire to imitate the life of a0See the description of St. Francis given in I, Cel. 83 in English Omnibus Edition o[ the Sources, 298-299. 11Alexandre Masseron, The Franciscans. Tr. W. B. Wells (New York, 1932). 4: "What would St. Francis, if he returned to earth today, have to say to anyone who was rash enough to show him a Franciscan bibliography? Is it not to be feared that 'our Brother Fire' would be charged with settling the fate of a work of such un-wieldy uselessness?". 26 / R~view lor Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 Christ in its every detail, to follow in the very footsteps of Christ:To follow the footsteps of Christ was for' Francis to take the Way that leads back to the Father. Though his heart and soul were .centered on the poverty and humility of Jesus in the New Testament, whereby the Rule and life.of his order became, synonymous with observing the gospel, there is no exclusive concern with the so-called,"simple" Jesus of history in the life and writings of St. Francis. He embraced a life of poverty in imitation of Christ who "is the glorious Word of the Father, so holy and exalted, whose coming the Father made known by St. Gabriel the Archangel to the glorious and blessed Virgin Mary, in whose womb. he took on our weak human nature. He was rich beyond measure and yet he and his holy Mother chose poverty.''1"-' This humiliation which the Word of the Father freely chose for our sake, is daily renewed on our altars: "Every day he humbles himself just as he did when he came from his heavenly throne (Ws 18: 15) into the Virgin's womb; every day he comes to us and lets us. see him in abjection, when he descends from the bosom of the Father into the hands of the priest at the altar?'1,~ There are three texts in the writings of St. Francis which in our opinion contain the seeds of the future development of Christology in the Franciscan School. If these were all he had left us, they would be more than sufficient as the foundation of the Franciscan School. The first is to be found in the fifth Admonition: "Try to realize the digqity God has conferred on you. He created and formed your body in the image of his beloved Son and your soul in his own likeness (see GO 1:26).''~4 The second is in the first paragraph of his Letter to All Clerics: "Indeed in this world there is noth-ing of the Most High himself that we can possess and contemplate with our eyes, except his Body and Blood, his name and his words, by which we were created and by which we have been brought back from death to life.''~'~ The third is found 'in the Letter to a General Chapter: "Kissing your feet with all the love I 'am capable of, I beg you to show the greatest possible reverence and honour for the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ through whom all things, whether on the earth or in the heav-ens, have been brought to peace and reconciled with Almighty God (see .Col l:20).v~ There is a fair amount of deep theology in the writings of St. Francis, but nowhere is this more clearly attested than in these texts. Their depths and the implications they contain will be obvious to any student of St. Bonaventure or Duns Scotus. With regard to the first text, we may ask if St. Francis meant to say that the body of the Word Incarnate was the lz"Letter to all the Faithful" in English Omnibus Edition o] the Sources, 93. a3"First Admonition," ibid., 78. ~4English Omnibi~s Edition, 80; .a~lbid;, 101. ~qbid., 104. Re[tections on the Franciscan Charism blueprint used by God in the creation of Adam? He states explicitly: "He created and formed your body in the image of his beloved Son." The Son as Son has no body; it is the Son as Word-Incarnate who possesses a body. Whether or not St. Francis was aware of the implications of what he wrote, these lines evoke at once Duns Scotus' doctrine of the ~absolute primacy of Christ. Furthermore it would not be difficult at all to trace St. Bonaven-ture's entire theology of creation and incarnation ~back to the two latter texts .we quoted. St. Anthony, St. Bonaventure and Duns Scotus 1. The Christological teaching of the Franciscan School found its earli-est expression in the setmons of St: Anthony of Padua. Already therein we find contained the doctrine of the primacy of Christ, for which Scotus is so justly acclaimed. St. Anthony shows a preference for the symbol of the circle of egression and return of which St. Bonaventure made such pro-found and superb use in his theology of the Word and creation?r 2. It is, however, St. Bonaventure himself who gave the most complete theological formulation to the Christological insights of St~ Francis. He is the mystical theologian par excellence of the Franciscan Order and in him the~ School reached the high point of its development, He belongs to the tradition.in the Church which has its origin in the Greek and Latin Fathers, according to which the work of the theologian and the ministry of preach-ing are understood to be.no more ~than different modalities of one and the selfsame service of the Word of God, Every concrete form in'which St, Francis expressed his devotion to the poor and humble Christ, is paralleled by a mystical work in the Bonaven-turian corpus, For example, to the crib at Greccio corresponds the beautiful work On the Five Feasts of the.Child Jesus; to St. Francis's reverence for the Blessed Eucharist corresponds the work On How to .Prepare for the Celebration of Mass18; to his devotion to the Passion and Cross of Christ correspond St. Bonaventure's The Tree of Life and The Mystical Vine.l'J St. ~Bonav.enture's !heology of the Word may be summarized as follows: the Word is the inner expression of the Father and the world is the outer expression of t_he Son. Creation gives outward expression to the inner Word of the Father, With the advent of man, the Word of God 5s spoken in a ~rSee V. Schaaf, 'O.F.M., Saint-Antoine de Padoue. Docteur de I'Eglise (Montreal: Editions Franciscaines, 1946); T. Plassmann, O.F.M., "St. Anthony the Theologian;" St. Anthony o] Padua Doctor o] the Church: Universal Souvenir o] the Commemora-tive Ceremonies (Washington, D.C., 1946), 49-70. J. Heerinckx, O.F.M., "Antoine de Padoue," Dictionnaire de Spiritualitd~ 1, 714-717. a,~The Works o[ Bonaventure. Tr. Jose de Vinck. Ili: Opuscula, Second Series (Pater-son, N.J., St. Anthony Guild Press, 1966), 197-214; 215-238. V.qbid., I: Mystical Opuscula (Paterson, N.J., St. Anthony Guild Press, 1960), 95- 144; 145-205. Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 radically new way, for it now opens the possibility of the most perfect out-ward expression of God's inner Word in the Incarnation of the Word: the Man, Jesus of Nazareth. By the enfleshmcnt of the Word, the words already spoken by God in every creature throughout all creation can be heard un-ambiguously for what they are: revelations of God. As the Eternal Word is the Center of the Trinity, so the Incarnate Word is the Center of every-thing outside the 'Trinity. Nothing can be known unless it is known through Christ. At every level and in all orders of reality Jesus Christ is Mediator. To have true knowledge of God, man and the cosmos we must take faith as our starting point. From this we may then proceed to reason in order to know whatdt may discover about God, man and the cosmos.-"° This latter aspect of St. Bonaventure's world view has a relevance today which it would be difficult to overestimate. It concerns particularly the separation between philosophy of God and theology in Catholic institutes of education which has had deplorable effects on intellectual formation.'-'1 A return to the con-creteness of St. Bonaventure's method will teach us to distinguish, but not separate, a philosophy of God from theology. The correct method is to treat the theology of God first. After St. Clare I know of no one who loved St. Francis more than St. Bonaventure did. His sermons on St. Francis show him to have agonized in loving astonishment at what God had done in the person and life of the poor Francis of Assisi.~'-' Everything St. Bonaventure strove after in his study of the Word of God he found realized in St~ Francis. Of all the vir-tues which St. Francis possessed, St. Bonaventure avowed that he admired most his poverty and humility. He laid.down at the feet of St. Francis the powers of his brilliant mind and the rich treasures of his wide and deep learn-ing. Thus it was in his own act of humility that St. Bonaventure proved that after all a learned man can be holy and be saved! ,~ 3. In the teaching on the absolute primacy of Christ, Duns Scotus put the final touches to the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School. The '-'°For recent presentations of the Christology of St. Bonaventure see the important studi+s by Zachary~Hayes, O.F.M., "'Revelation in Christ," Proceedin~,s o[ the Seventh Cehtenary Celebration o] the Death o[ St. Bonaventure (The Franciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y., 1975), 29-43; "The Meaning of Convenientia in the Meta-physics of St. Bonaventure," Franciscan Studies, vol. 34, Annual XII, 1974, 74-100; "Incarnation and ~.reation in the Theology of St. Bonaventure," Studies Honoring Ignatius Charles Brady. Friar Minor. Ed. R. S. Almagno, O.F.M. and C. L. Harkins, O.F.M. (The Franciscan Institute: St: Bonaventure, N.Y., 1976), 309-329. See also Ignatius Brady, O.F.M., "St. Bonaventure's Theology of the Imitation of Christ," Proceedings of the Seventh Centenary Celebration o[ the Death of St. Bonaventure (The Franciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y. 1975), 61-72. '-qSee: B. J. F. Lonergan, S.J., Philosophy o[ God and Theology (The Westminster Press: Philadelphia, 1973). :zSee his five sermons on St. Francis in Opera Omnia IX (Ad Claras Aquas, 1901), 573-597. We are preparing an edition and translation of these sermons. Relqections on the Franciscan Charism / 29 Incarnation is not occasioned by sin, though sin affected its modality. Scotus is not indifferent to evil and sin in the world, nor does he merely juggle with hypotheses. But the destruction of sin and evil is no more than a moment in God's movement out of himself towards the world, to unite all creation in the Love that is forever. The most recent and famous formulation of this doctrine has been made by Teilhard de Chardin in terms of an evolving cosmos. °Speaking of the Scotistic doctrine with Padre Allegra, Teilhard ex-claimed:"' v'o"l~a," la th6ologie c'osmique; voile, la th6ologie de l'avenir"--a cosmic theology, a theology of the future. Because of the unambiguous value it places on creation, one can readily understand why this,, doctrine is so attractive to the French Co.rnmunist philosopher, Roger Garaudy.'-''~ These brief reflections on the development of Christology from St. Fran-cis himself to the School which has from him its name, make it clear that Franciscan Christology is a structural element in the original Franciscan charism. If it is ignored .or neglected, then the charism itself is impaired. Charism and Ongoing Renewal As the order moves on towards the beginning of the third millennium of the Church's history, it will continue to adapt and renew itself accord-ing to the spirit of its original ,charism. In the process of on'going renewal the following aspects of the charism will need to be giveo more serious con-sideration: 1. Public witness--minimum structure." The "monastification" of the order was an undesirable development, not merely because it led to a dull uniformity and reduced individuality to a minimum, but also because it .imposed,a superstructure of organization on the order's life which virtually abolished one of the most characteristic aspects of the Franciscan charism. This is the genius of living a publicreligious life in the Church (St. Francis founded an order) with a minimum amount of structure (St. Francis was conscious of its original newness.). It is among the order's most attractive and, at the same time, most deman.ding characteristics. It is attractive be-cause it manifests the freedom won for us in Christ Jesus; it is for the order a sacrament of freedom from the :burden of the Law. It is demanding because it places firmly on the shoulders of each member of a community full re, sponsibility for every facet of communal life. Community life is an ongoing process, created by the uniqueness and originality of its several members and it issues in a unity which is something more than the mere sum total of the individuals. In such a process no one can shirk responsibility without setting back this process and thus injuring community life. An important area in which this aspect of the charism should exercise maximum influence is formation. The whole process of formation must have 23See Eric Doyle, O.F.M., "John Duns Scotus and the Place of Christ," The Clergy Review, vol. LVII, Sept. 1972, 667-675; Oct. 1972, 774-785; Nov. 1972, 860-868. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 as its "chief aim the active reception by each friar of total responsibility for 6ur way of life, where the duty of each is to help the others to glow in wis-dom and maturity before~ God and man. The capacity and willingness to ¯ accept this responsibility may be taken as the touchstone of suitability for this way of life. 2. The Rule for Hermitages:'''~ Thomas of Celano in his Second Life tells us that St. Francis "wanted his brothers to live not only in the cities, but also in hermitages." This element of the charism has had effect in some provinces and it is recommended and encouraged in the Renewed Constitu-tions."-'~' It is clear from the short Rule for Hermitages that St. Francis .wished his order to lead not only a "mixed" life'--that is, one devoted to prayer and the apostolate---but to hold within itself at one and. the same time the two distinct expressions., of the.religious life: the active and the contempla-tive: The contemplative life he intended as a permanent feature of the order's existence in the world. It is interesting to recall in this context that both the Rule of the Friars Minor (for itinerant apostles) and the Rule of St. Clare (for enclosed contemplatives) are identified with life according to the Holy Gospel. In our opinion the notion of a "hermitage" should not be confused with a. "house of prayer." Houses of prayer, to which friars may resort for shorter or longer periods of recollection, do not fulfill adequately what St. Francis appears to have intended. It seems that he wanted the contemplative life to be a permanent feature of the life of the First Order. If our view here is correct, then there should be a place in the order for the exclusively contemplative life. On this understanding a "hermitage" and a "house of prayer" are quite distinct notions. The former should be employed uniquely to describe a community of friars dedicated exclusively to the contemplative life. The feature's that would distinguish a Franciscan contemplative community from the older monastic forms of the contemplative life would be precisely the minimum structure and the far smaller number in the community.-Whether the number would have to be restricted to three or four, as is mentioned in the Rule [or Hermitages, is a matter that calls for further discussion. It may not be possible for every province of the order to have'a hermi-tage (or hermitages) as a permanent feature of its life. Perhaps, therefore, hermitages could be instituted at the inter-provincial level and be made open tO international membership. Such contemplative communities in the order would give fine expression to this. element of the Franciscan charism. The reference made above to the Rule of the Poor Clares recalls what St. Francis wrote down in the Form of Life for St. CIare: ~'I desire and promise you personally and in the name,~of my friars that I will always have the same loving care and solicitude for you as for them." Their way of life "-4English Omnibus Edition of the Sources, 72-73. '-'SThe Plan ]or Franciscan Living, Articles 28-31. Reflections on the,~Franciscan Charism / 31 was very dear to St. Francis both because he loved St. Clare and because he himself was strongly attracted to the contemplative life. The First Order today should show the same loving care for the Poor Clares and there ought to be more frequent and closer contact between the first and second branches of the order. By so doing we would be more faithful to St. Francis and we would be helped considerably to.discern our own charism more clearly. 3. The Rule of 1221.""-~ Although the Rule of 1223, which gave the FrancisCan Order its legal" basis, and the Rule of 1221, which never re-ceived papal approval, both contain the spirit of St; Franci.s, it could be argued that the latter is a finer expression of that spirit than the former. This is not to deny that the Rule of 1223 is more a spiritual document than legal code. Nevertheless, it is just that one step removed from the earliest expression of the form of life and, therefore, just that little further from the original charism. .,, In terms of continuing renewal, the directives of the seventh chapter of the Rule of 1221 raise important questions for ,the future development of the order. The chapter is titled: "Work and the Service of Others." It con-cerns the friars who are engaged in the service of lay people and those who already have a trade when they join the order. The chapter lays down: "Everyone should remain at the trade and in the position in which he was called." This one sentence alone gives rise to a serious question about what attitude the order ought to adopt to a person seeking admission to it who is already qualified in a trade or profession. It is not a question about whether the order .should,allow a plumber or a doctor to continue as a plumber or ¯ doctor after an initial period of formation; it is rather a question of Whether or not the order is obliged to allow a plumber or a doctor to return at least for a certain time, to his previous work, after the period of formation. Priests who have joined the order in the past have continued to exercise their priestly ministry to a.limited extent during the period of formation and it has always been assumed that. they will go back to its full exercise after formation. There are many, many more professions ands:trades which are as equally compatible with the vocation of being a Franciscan friar,as is the ministerial priesthood. Before the oral approval of the Rule in 1209, St. Francis had already assured the Bishop of Assisi that he and his companionS would earn their living and have recourse to begging only when it was absolutely necessary. Some of them worked as laborers in monasteries and private houses; others took care of lepers in the lazar houses; others helped farmers in the fields. In the early years after the,approval of the Rule the friars were given to preaching, praying and manual work. The statement made at the Madrid Chapter in 1973 concerning the vocation of the order today, gave definite approval to this aspect of the "-'~English Omnibus o] the Sources, 31-53. 32 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 original charism as contained in the Rule of 1221. The statement empha-sizes: For recent times, our participation in the general evolution of religious life and the influence of certain other communities,have led us to the rediscovery of an aspect of work as it was understood by ~Francis. New forms of work and a variety of occupations are now being undertaken by our friars. Min-istry, our own works, and domestic tasks within our friaries legitimately oc-cupy the majority of our friars, but it is becoming more frequent to find friars engaged in salaried trades and professions within enterprises and institutions which belong neither to the order nor to the Church. An orientation of this kind appears to us to be in line with our vocation; by it we are a part of society in a special way, working for its upbuilding and we are brought closer to those who live. by their work. While placing us squarely on the road to the future it brings us back to one of the institutions of our origins.zr This new type of work is itself the apostolate: the apostolate of presence by silent witness. We must not forget, however, that this form of the apostolate is not easy. It demands that a friar put into practice the unsystematic though profound theology of work scattered throughout the writings of St. Francis. Thus: pay is not to be the motive of work, nor should the friars become the slaves of work or of gain. Work is to be undertaken as a contribution to the final form of creati6n, carried out under the supreme lordship of God; it is to be sanctified by being brought back to its right relationship with God. It is not, nor can it be, for the friar an end in itself; it is a means of exercising the apostolate of peace and reconciliation in the midst of the world. It requires above all of those who engage in it, that they be contem-platives. Before actio.n there has to be what St. Bonaventure calls sursumac-rio-- that uplifting activity which is contemplative prayer. Further developments of this kind of work may well bring about a de-crease in the number of priests in the order. At the same time it must not be ignored that those engaged in the apostolate who are not~priests (for ex-ample, nuns°and brothers) often find that there are circumstances where it would be a definite advantage to be a priest. In fact, experiences of this kind have often led~non-ordained apostles to seek ordination to the priest-hood. 4. St. Francis the Deacon:'-'~ St. Francis never became a priest. One often hears that the reason for this was his deep humility; he felt himself unworthy of so sublime a dignity. This explanation, however, is not to be found in the sources; in fact there appears to be no mention of the matter at all. In any case our concern here is not with the reason why he did not become a priest, but with the [a.ct that he was a deacon. "-':General Chapter Documents, Madrid 1973 (The English-Speaking Conference of the Order of Friars Minor; 1974), 68. '-'sSee I, Col. 86 in English Omnibus Edition o[ the Sources, 301: "The saint of God was clothed with the vestments of the deacon, for he was a deacon, and he sang the holy Gospel in a sonorous voice." Re[tections on the Franciscan Charism / 33 The re-institution of the order of permanent diaconate is one of the most encouraging results of Church renewal. The diaconate in the Church is directly derived from, and immediately related to, the episcopal office. It concerns the Church's mission to the world in.the very concrete form of the corporal and sp)ritual works of mercy and of work for reconciliation, justice and peace. These works pertain to the essence of the apostolic office. It is, therefore, theologically incorrect and quite unsound to understand the diaconate merely in terms of assistance to the priestly ministry; nor is the diaconate adequately presented exclusively in terms of liturgical functions. In practice at the moment, however, the actual form of ministry exercised by permanent deacons is, in the vast majority of cases, only a lesser form of the priestly ministry. This is true throughout the Western Church. On the missions it has been ~made a substitute for the priesthood, and the permanent deacon is in fact a "mini-priest?' With the exception of saying Mass and ad: ministering absolution, he does everything that the priest does. The diaconate has become also a substitute for a married priesthood. In ,many of our city and towm parishes in the Western world, the ministry of the permanent deacon is in fact no more than that of assistant to the local priests. In all these cas~s, therefore, 'the priesthood is the determining factor in the per-formance of the office of deacon. It would be a pity if this were to become the exclusive form of the diaconal ministry. The permanent diaconate in the Church proclaims that the corporal and spiritual works of mercy and work for reconciliation, justice and peace are not merely the special concern of individuals who may feel called to per-form them. They belong to the episcopal office, because the bishops must have anxious care not only for all' the churches but also for the whole world. Ordinatioh to :the .permanent diaconate graces the man called to this work with the authority and power of the apostolic mission to the world, In virtue of this sacrament the deacon is sent by the bishop publicly in the name of Christ to work; for example, in the field 0f communications, as a counselor, a welfare officer, a doctor or a nurse. The. Franciscan Order is committed by its very existence to work for reconciliation,., justice and peace. It would be most fitting for the order to incorporate the permanent diaconate, as here understood, into its life and mission and to offer this as an option to those wishing to join the order. It would manifest that work other than priestly'ministry is not merely the hobby or pa~rticular preference of an individual, but a part of the Churcl~'s ¯ mission to the world. It would contribute also towards restoring the diaconate to its fuller ministry. 5. Christology of the Franciscan School: Every friar should receive a thorough grounding in the doctrine of the Franciscan School. Christology is at the heart of that doctrine from which has developed a distinctive anthro-pology, .!he values of which center on freedom, the primacy of the will and charity, and the dignity of the individual person. In order that this rich 34 / Review Jot Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 heritage be not lost; it is of paramount importance that studies be encouraged ever more keenly in the order. One acknowledges with gratitude .the re-newed interest in Franciscan studies brought about by,~the establishment of the Franciscan Institute at St. Bonaventure University, New York. More friars should .be encouraged to devote their lives to the production of good texts and critical editions of the authors of the Franciscan School. It must be impressed on them that this is not a waste of time nor merely the pri-vate interest of the scholarly "types" which the order can tolerate, but a splendid contribution to the understanding of a tradition which belongs, to the Church and mankind at large;. ~ The~Future of the Order and Its Vocation The future will see a more balanced proportion between, the number of priests and non-priests in the Franciscan Order. The indications are that throughout the world the order as a whole will continue to decrease in numbers. There will be many more small communities. In fidelity to its many-faceted charism the order will have to learn to hold within itself a great pluriformity of~ life-styles and, work. The former will have to contain the widest variety from the contemplative to the actix;e' life.~ The latter will have to.embrace every, form from strictly priestly.work to the apostolate of presence and silent witness in salaried trades, and pro-fessions. Every friar on the apostolate will have to be prepared to preach, teach or' share with others, in whatever ways are opened up, the riches of the order's Christological tradition, particularly the teaching on the centrality of the Word and the absolute 'primacy of Christ: By so doing, the order will contribute to the fruitfulness oLthe encounter and dialogue between East and West, from which will result a spirituality for the post-modern world. The East has developed towards an extreme spiritualistic interpretation of man and the world; the West towards an extreme materialistic interpretation of man and the world. There are~ however, strands in the tradition of both East and West, which point the way to a real unity and balance between these extremes. It is not too much to suggest~that the theology of the:Fran-ciscan School and the spirituality of St. Francis belong to these strands in the West. This theology and spirituality lead one to a material spiritualism or spiritual materialism, to a holy worldliness or worldly holiness. It is along these lines that spirituality in the future will develop. In conclusion we wish to make a brief comment about a very important matter. It concerns a fair number of those friars who have left the order and have taken up other walks of life. In traveling around one frequently comes across ex-friars who long to share again the spirituality and atmosphere which formed them and left a deep impression on their minds and hearts, and who desire to participate once more in some way directly in the order's mission to the world. It is not that they are unhappy in their new. way of life or regret having married~ These longings and desires are th~ outcome of a~ Reflections on the, Franciscan Charism / 35~ renewed and deeper appreciation of Franciscan values which their new life has brought home. to them. Specifically, 'it is married rife which is most fre-quently mentioned as the cause of this. There is a very positive impulse behind these desires which one discerns as the Ho!y Spirit of God. Serious thought and prayer must be given to working out how these desires might be fulfilled, It must not be presumed a priori that we can do nothing for them. One suggestion would be the institution of a new [ormof the Third Order which could be so established as to meet both desires mentioned. It could exist in very close liaison and cooperation with the work of the First Order, for this latter is mature enough to embrace an added element in its. pluri- ¯ formity. In this way the order would be helping to prepare for the eventual re-deployment of so much energy, goodwill and holiness in the apostolic mission of the Church. Now Available As A Reprint Centeri. g Prayer-Prayer of Quiet by~ M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S~.O. Address: ¯ Price: $.50 pier copy, plus postage. Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis,, Missouri 63103 To God Via Per Patricia Lowery, M.M. Sister Lowery's article, "The Suffering Servant and the Wounded Healer" (May, 1976) was well-received by our readership. She continues to reside at: Madres de Maryknoll; Casilla 491; Arequipa, Pert]. Editor's Note: I asked Sister Patricia to write an article on her reason for remaining in Pert] even as a suffering servant. In response to read.er-reaction, she had earlier written an article with fuller information about "The Fraternity of the Sick," but I judged the present article to be of haore immediate im-portance. The other article will be published later. The following passages from her covering letter will "flesh out" the article which follows. She writes: "I guess it is not such a great thing that I stay in Pert], but some people without a missionary vocation might think it is. 1 am not exactly 'all crippled up,' but Rheumatoid Arthritis affects all the joints, and, whatever the degree of deformity, there°is always pain . Some people, I think, Would be taking it easy in my condition, but because my spirit is always 100 miles ahead of my body, I need to romp around. I do it in Pert] because the pace is slower, I have the freedom to invent' my own aids to independence, and most of all because it is 'home' for me .I hope what I have written will serve as an inspiration to someone else." When I left New York harbor destined for Pert] on the f~ast of St. Rose of Lima, I instinctively felt that I was making.a journey that would shape my life. Twenty-five years later, as I reflect on the events of those years, I know it to be true. As I stood at the rail, face to face with the ocean, the fact that I was going to a strange country, to a-mission that was as yet an empty lot, to work with people I did not know and whose language I could not speak, seemed not to frighten me. I was too caught up with the journey itself. With Sister Madaleva's "Travel Song" in my heart, I was blinded by' enthusiasm! 36 To God Via Per~ / 37 "Know you the journey that I take Know you the voyage that I make The joy of it one's heart would break. No jot of time have l to spare Nor will to loiter anywhere SO edger am I to be there. What thatothe way is hard and long What that gray fears upon it throng I set my journey to a song. And it grows happy, wondrous so Singing I hurry on, for Oh! It is to God, to God I go. I am still singing that song, for my journey has taken me steadily toward God, accompanied now by many frierids and the voice of ,the quena (Indian flute), whose music calls to mind all that I have liv.ed, loved and learned in Peril. A Life of Fulfillment Recently, a visiting sister from the United States asked me what satis-factions I had after working twenty-five years in Perti. I could not answer that question directly because .I had not thought of my years in Perti in terms of "satisfactions," but. rather, more comprehensively, as a lifetime of fulfillment. I feel that I came to Peril almost as a child, unsure of many things, and here I grew up, formed 'in the school of joy; struggle, suffering, achievement and love. My teachers'were often uneducated people whose only book was the testimony of their lives. I knew, sowehow, that in such a book were contained the lessons I wanted desperately to learn. There was conflict, though, because I was supposed to be the teacher, prepared as I was for that profession. Later in novitiate work, I assumed the role of spiritual guide only to find that the insights of the Peruvian girls with whom I lived were much more "real" than my own. In pastoral work, too, I had to learn to accelSt people as they are, in the context of their cul-ture and reality, and to set aside my well-prepared o~ganizational plan. It was only when I found myself on a level with so many others (brought together through that universal mystery of suffering) that I began my real ministry~ This shared experience taught me to be present to others as a friend, learn from them, be at their side rather than "ahead" of them, to understand and appreciate them--and m~self as well. I sincerely feel that over the years the gift of happiness and fulfillment has been given to me by people who are themselves still oppressed by in- . justices and hunger for bread and who carry man-made burdens. In humble gratitude to them, I take my stand with all those who fight for liberation, human dignity and the precious gift of personal fulfillment. A Vocation to Stay As a Maryknoll Missioner, my heritage includes devotion to the Church, Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 love for people of all cultures, simplicity, loyalty, generosity, adaptability, joy in hardships and faith in God. My earliest years at Maryknoll were filled with hearing about, and meeting, great men and women who, sustained by those virtues, ventured to "fields afar" even before I was born. Their unassuming lives spoke to me of humifity, courage a,ad joy, virtues that stood by them. as they fought the good fight, faced imPrisonment and even death for the people to Whom they were g(nt. All this was part of their missionary vocation. ~ Therefore, it seems strange to me that anyone would ask why I, who am only semi-incapacitated by a physical'iliness, would remain on a mission where few resources are availi~ble. Actually, it never occurred to me to do otherwise. Having received very good medical attention and knowing how to take care of myself, there seems little else to do but wait until science discovers a'cure. B~t one can waist anywhere. Bishop James E. Walsh, M.M., whose story is well known in the United States, made a statement in 1951 regarding his decision to remain in China in the face of imprisonment (which he actually suffered for twelve years). From among his valuable insights, ! will quote a few which I can apply to myself: Vocation: Our vocation is not simply our occupational work. The teaching, preaching, village visiting we usually do, it is something much deeper, per-mahent, indelible. It does not change if our work is imped(d, if we are in. prison, or for any other reason. One of the necessary conditions to carry it out properly, I think, is to accept in advance every trouble and contingency in connection with it that Divine Providence puts in our way. If we start to pick and choose for ourselves; it is very hard to tell if we are carrying out our vocation or running away from it . The only safe rule for a man with a mission vocation, .I think, is to adhere to the clear indication of God's will (his appointed place where he finds himself) and to make no changes of his own volition. .4ch°vity: Enforced inactivity is a term that needs some distinguishingl Activ-ity does not depend on the place; it depends on the man. Suffering patiently bourne is activity, so is prayer, so is any kind of mental work--things that can be done, one WOUld think, in prison as well as anywhere. What is really meant is a change of activity. This is something of a hardship to many men, I confess it---especially to those who are lacking in the. faculty of imagination. However, we can all learn something new, or at least wecan try tO do so. If an examp!e of prison life will help the Church in China, as. I. believe any suffering undergone for Qod will do, then we are just being given another sort of activity for a time. There is no question of ~complete inactivity, I believe."r Encouraged, therefore, by the tradition of my elders as well as by the example of many valiant companions of today, I choose to stay in Pert~ because: 1Zeal For Your House by James E. Walsh, M.M., Our Sunday Visitor, Inc. (Hunt= ington, IN; 1976), pp. 140-141. To God Via Per~ / 39 --it is my vocation; ---I believe in Christian witness (no matter what else I may or may not be able to do) ; --although it is the nature of the missionary vocation to move on when when the. local Church has come of age, I feel that Peril is still in the growing process and needs to feel solidarity with the universal Church; --it builds morale both for the people and the missioners; (to celebrate a "staying-here" rather than a "going-away" makes everybody happy); --God has directed my life in such surprisingly beautiful wa3;s that I fear if I "pick and choose for myself," I may miss out on something he has in store for me; --finally, I would feel reluctant to break the bonds of friendship built up over the years. Yahweh's feeling toward his people has rubbed off on me: How could I give you up, O Ephraim? How could I part with you, O Israel? (Ho 11:8) While my sentiment for Peril runs deep, I k~aow that missioners are sent to people rather than to count.ries. In the case that ,I were to find my-self in another situation, my ministry to people need not change: Pockets of Hope In my small circle of the poor and the sick, I se.e signs .of Christi.an witness which prove that what we have been able to build in the hearts of people has already outlasted our institutions and monumental structures. Christian values like kindness, service, patience, humility, thoughtfulness and friendliness mark people as being followers of Christ. In my own ex-perience, especially since I have been sick, I have been deeply moved by the unexpected and touching concern shown for me.by those who carry heavy burdens and, apparently, have nothing to give. It prompts me to look into my life, and give of its essence as well as its superfluity. Because of my involvement with the "Fraternity of the Sick," I have come to realize the truth, that through baptism (be it of water or in the fire of suffering), the humblest among the people of. God are called to be ministers. In the past, because of concentrating only on our own call to ministry, we religious have tended to over-look the vocation to service being lived out all around us. Only with our encouragement can these ministers come to take their place as true servants of the Church. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain if only we can set aside our fears and believe that: As one lamp lights another, nor grows less So nobleness enkindles nobleness. (Lowell) Founding "Founderology": Charism and Hermeneutics Francis E. George, O,M.I. Father George is Vicar General of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate. This article is based on a conference given in Rome at the beginning of a three-week congress, April 25-May 15, on the charism of their founder, Eugene De Mazenod, ,He resides at the Curia Generalitia O.M.I.; Via Aurelia, 290; 00165 Roma, Italy. The renewal of religious, institutes means getting in touch with several "charisms." We can distinguish the charism of the religious life as such, individual charisms and the cha.rism of a founder and of his institute. Religious life as such is a gift of the Holy Spirit, a" grace given to the entire Church, enabling it to follow Christ ever more closely (Lumen Gentium,~ 44). There is also.the "charism" or individual grace of each member of a religious institute. The Spirit calls each of us by name, and this individual vocation is a source of the richness that religious institutes have recently begun to acknowledge more openly and appreciate more warmly. But the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council spoke of the "original inspiration behind a given community" as one of the principles of ongoing renewal of religious institutes (Perlectae Caritatis, 2), and the "spirit" of a founder has' its source in a grace (charis) given to him. Like all.grace, it is a personal gift; but by reason of his founding a public institute in the Church, this grace has far-reaching public consequences. Those who are his followers adopt a stance, a viewpoint, in some way derived from or inspired by his thought, his work, his graced life. It becomes possible there-fore to speak of a "collectNe charism," a view proper to a group. The charism of a religious institute, as such has been defined as "a grace given Founding ~'Founderology'" / 41 by the Holy Spirit to a religious institute to help it to carry out its proper mission.''~ Each religious foundation began with a group who shared a common spirit. This spirit, rooted in grace, enabled them to lead a common life and attempt a common task: How can a religious institute today know if it still has this original spirit? Is there a method which can help a religious community get in touch with the founder's spirit and live it authentically? Historical Approach to Charism There are two methodological approaches to charism (the spirit of the founder and his followers) which, taken singly, . might ,lead to an impasse. The first approach is historical. Starting with the historical reality of a founder, his life and work, we can try to see him as a kind of model, some-what separate from us in time, but still providing us with a clear and even a detailed picture of the life we should lead today. "Fidelity to the founder's spirit" then means handing on this model, essentially unchanged, to future generations of religious. They, in tur6, will interiorize it and make it vital thr~ough their lives and works. The difficulty with this ap~proach is that it "often assumes a "funda-mentalism" based on texts or on events, accepting as normative many models which are irrelevant to contemporary life. While seeming to empha-size the historical reality of the founder, this approach, taken by itself, is really a means of escaping from history. It makes the founder's ideas become ah ideology, protecting a community's present institution,'ilizati6n but divorced from the contemporary responses to problems the founder him-self was concerned about? On the practical level, "copying" the founder cannot serve as a guide for present decision making. Few people, and certainly not most religious founders, are so .self-consistent in act that it is not possible to find his-torical precedent in their lives for al}nost any a~tion. Almost any par-ticular decision can thereby be justified by saying we are "imitating the founder." The ideological nature of this approach, used alone, becomes clear. Experiential Approach to Charism The second approach "begins with contemporary experience. Looking at an institute's life and ministry today, the members discern what are the values and the motivation inspiring them. A synthesis of this group "spirit" is articulated and accepted as normative. Certain similarities with the XTeresa Led6chowska, O.S.U., A la'r~cherche du charism de I'institut (Rome, 1976), p. 14. "Ideology, as used here, means ideas which serve as weapons or cloaks for special interests. This usage is common., in .the sociology o~ knowledge and derives from Karl Marx via Karl Mannheim. 42 / ,Review ]or Religious, VOlume 36, 1977/1 spirit of the founder are either° found or are-read back into his life, but the important thing is to avoid withdrawing into the cocoon of the ~insti-tute and away from contemporary events and problems. If historical similarity.to the founder is lacking, this must be accepted" as a part'of his-torical development itself, the price ,paid for being truly in and of our own time. ~ The difficulty with this approach, considered in itself, lies in its easy acceptance of the zeitgeist as almost uniquely normative. The founder himself tends to become instr~umentalized, brought'in .whenever he can be used to justify current thinking and activity; and conveniently forgotten at other moments. Eventually, it would be hard to find any specific content at all to the so-ca.lled charism of the institute. If the first approach merely "copies" the founder~ the second tends to replace him. Hermeneutic Approach to Charism Is ~here a third approach,~incorporating the best Of the two sketched above? Perhaps a iook at hermeneuticg ~igl!t help to put'together a meth-odology which neither copies a founder nor replaces him but rather inter-prets him for Our time and for generations of religious yet to come. Hermeneutics Heymeneutic~, the science of interpretation, has its theolggic)d roots in the discussion of the historical Jesus and his relation to the Christ of faith? ]~he~gradual dissociation of religious, beliefs from historical'dvents had its beginnings in the late"l 8th century work of Lessing and has its best known twentieth century explication in the work of Rudolf Bulimafin. Hermeneutics as such, h~owever, is .a" theologically neutral ente'rRr~ise, concerned with the understanding of expressions of life as fixed in writing2 As a method, hermeneutics demands first of all exegesis, the careful establishment Of what the author ~f a text consciously meant to say in his writing. Next, h~rmeneutics tries intelligibly to span the historical distance between the text and our present reading of it by studying the author's con-text of understanding, including both his presuppositions (what he took for granted) and his horizon (what he was up to and how he did it). Finally, a third area of understanding must be made explicit. If the text is to be adequately interpreted, there is needed also a critique of the reader's context, the presuppositions .he brings to his reading, what is mean- .~See P. Grech's rrsum6 o[ the question in, "Jesus Christ in History and Kerygma," A New Catholic Commentar.v on Holy Scripture, Reginald G. Fuller, General Editor (London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1969), pp. 822-837. 4See Berriard Lonergan, Method in Theology (N.Y.: Herder & Herder, 1972), pp. 59-64 and 153-173. Founding "Founderology" / 43 ingful in his understanding and life~ The interpreter's own subiectivity is utilized as a principle of interpretation. The challenge of hermeneutics lies at least partially in finding a context of understanding which incorporates both the explicit intentions of the author of the text and his cont6xt of understanding, along with the context of the reader or interpreter. ~ ,, Charism Interpretation In charism interpretation, the object of interpretation is not directly a single text or group of te£ts but rather a group-spirit which has its. origin in a particular historical person. Nevertheless, three areas of understanding, anaiogou~ to those necessary for textual interpretation, can be seen to be necessary: for an appreciation of a founder's spirit. First, we must understand what he personally intended and chose. A study,~ of his own writings and the decisions of his life is therefore necessary. Secondly, we must understand the founder's historical context, his horizon .of meaning and ,action .as a~man of his age. Accepting a spurious. contemporaneity, overlooking, for example, authoritatian presuppositions ~which.~.are now unattractive, would only falsify our interpretation. Thirdly, we must understand our own presuppositions and 'our own historical context. The general horizon of modern consciousness accepts unquestioningly that finitude is the vantage point of all, thinking and that ,,there are no privileged viewpoints. Nobody today, for example, believes he can know the mind of God or his will in the same rather absolute way peo-ple thought it possible to know them before the mediating structures :broke down. This contempor.ary tentativeness :can readily degenerate into a super-cilious attitude, debunking, every human thought "and value; at its best, however, it reminds us that we, too, are not necessarily smarter than peo-ple were in the founder's time. We just have a different pbint of view; and we must therefore work all the harder to understand the founder's context of meaning and action. Interpretation as. a. Communitarian. Activity But these three areas of understanding do not of themselves give us an interpretation of a founder's spirit. They prepare the task of' interpretation, but the actual interpretation must be~done in community~ Interpretation takes place in community nc;t only because community is a constitutive part of the life of most religioias institutes, but also because :interpretation is, of its very nature; a communitarian activity. ~ Community of Interpretation Interpersonal" Structure Interpretation is a communita~-ian activity because it is a joining, a communion, of three poles: the interpreter, the sign or object interpreted, 44 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 and the person(s) for whom the interpretation is intended, or the inter-pretee( s)? By way of example, one can imagine an international conference during which speeches are translated simultaneously. The speaker's words are the sign or object interpreted, the translator is the interpreter, and those who do not understand the speaker's language are the interpretees. Together they form a community of interpretation, Without one of the three, but espe-cially without the interpreter, no community exists and the conference be-comes impossible. To push the example a bit further, one can imagine a particularly abstruse speech which makes little sense even to those who understand the language in which it is given. Then another sort of inter-preter is called for, perhaps a teacher or clarifier, who creates community between speaker and those spoken to. What might happen Should even the speaker not understand his speech? Then probably the situation calls for that sort of interpreter called a psychiatrist,'who can explain the speaker to himself. In any circumstance, the act of interpretation means that someone interprets something to and for another. The "other'-' might be the inter-preter himself at a different time. Everyone has had the experience of puz-zling through a conundrum and finally "interpreting" it to himself --- but even in this case there are three logically distinct subjects of the relationship: interpreter, interpreted and interpretee. Interpretation, then, is always a communitarian activity. Temporal Structure Chronologically, the interpreter can be placed in the present, the' inter-preted in the past and the interpretee in the future. The community of in-terpretation is a temporal community, in the sense that something in the past is interpreted by someone now for someone else in the future. The ac-tivity of interpreting, then, creates a community of memory and of hope. It brings together, in the present, both the past and the future. Again, an example might help. It is fashionable today to speak of "owning" one's own behavioi'. A person self-consciously appropriates in the present some act of his past so that it fits into his future. A self-image is an interpretation. When others share the individual's self-interpretation, community with them is possible. When all place the same interpretation on a past event and look forward to a common future, a larger community is possible, There is a Christian community, to use another example, because in the present we all interpret the past Christ-event in such a way that we look forward to his future coming in glory. Those who do not look back to Jesus '~This analysis of interpretation depends upon the work of tl~e American philosopher Josiah Royce, The Problem o] Christianity (N.Y.: Mac"millan, 1913), vol. ii, Lectures ix through xiv. ~ Founding "Founderology'" / 45 of Nazareth as Lord and Savior or do not look forward to the Parousia are not members of the Christian community, There is no common interpre-tation. Every community is a gathering of many separate persons into a commonly held memory and a commonly shared hope. In this sense, every community is a community of interpretation. In the community of interpretation which is a particular religious insti-tute, the members interpret in their time the.spirit and acts of their founder, a person now dead, to their future selves and to future generations of re-ligious, They say what they understand the founder to be, thereby establish-ing their community with him and enabling him--and them--to join those who will consider their interpretation in the future. This future considera-tion, of course, will be another interpretation in another present for another future in which they are past. Religious Community of Interpretation The Founder:s Concerns The relation of interpretation has a triadic personal structure (interpre-ter, interpreted and interpretee) and a triadic temporal structure (present, past and future). But the abstract framework explored so far is true of every act of interpretation and of every community of interpretation. Is there a specific 'contribution a founder makes to the community of interpretation which is his religious, institute? Obviously; if we are able to speak of a charism proper to an institute, then the object interpreted, the signs of God's grace which are the founder's words and acts, must provide the content which his followers interpret in the present. The founder raises concerns in the hearts and minds of his followers and these concerns specify religious com-munities .of interpretation., so that followers of Francis of Assisi are different from followers of Francis de Sales, Each religious, each community, each institute can produce a list of those concerns which were closest to its founder's heart. The founder I know best, Eugene De Mazenod,* was a diocesan priest who brought together a small mission, band to help re-evangelize southern France after the destruc-tion of parochial life in the French Revolution, Heavily influenced by the writings of St. Alphonsus Ligouri and by the example of St. Vincent de Paul, De Mazenod chose as a motto for.his missionaries the words of Isaiah echoed in Luke's Gospel: "He has sent me to preach the .Gospel to the poor; the poor have the Gospel preached to them." A practical leader rather than a speculative theorist, he saw his group develop slowly in response to many different needs in many different situa-tions. In some respects he seems to be a not very original man, yet certain *Eugene De Mazenod (1782-1861), ~ounder ~f the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate and Bishop of Marseilles. ' He was beatified on Mission Sunday, October 19, 1975. 46 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 personal concerns return constantly in his letters and his.life, An authentic Mazenodian community of interpretation, therefore,, would have to harbor at least the following four concerns:, 1 ) ~a concern ]or the poor: who are they; what language do they speak; what are their needs and their ways of understanding themselves? This was a constant ,concern of ,De Mazenod from the days of his first preaching in" the Provenqal dialect to his final instructions to his missionaries in Africa, Asia and North America ~ 2,) a co'ncern ]or the Church as universal: De Mazenod's own conver-sion to Christ crucified and his .love ~of Christ as universal Savior prompted both, his missionary zeal and his love of the pope as universal pastor; a vision of Christ's universal salvific action as sacramentalized in the Church must be somehow present to De Mazenod's interpreters. 3) a concern ]or ministry, and specifically for preaching Christ 'cruci-fied, in local circumstances: religious foundations were frequent in nine-teenth century France, but when another founder spoke~t6.De Mazenod of the need to go to all of France, De Mazenod insisted'on,first making Christ present in Provence, in the circtimstances he knew best. ,.A universal. Vision was coupled with a concern for local effectiveness, even as.the congregation itself became global. 4) a. concern ]or the quality of copnmitment bf the community itself: De Mazenod called his followers not to,share his opinions nor even only to share his work but to share his commitment, a commitment finally expressed in religious vows. Other areas of concern could certainly be raised. Concern for the way in which Mary is part of the Oblate spirit as exemplar:and guide is forced on De: Mazenod's institute by its very title. Concern for the proper under-standing of mission or of evangelization is also important~ But De Mazenod in pr~actice preached to and served and lived with certain grotips of people. Without living contact with analogous groups today, his spirit will escape his followers. ~ For the purpose of this paper, De Mazenod is only an exam

Issue 19.4 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review fOl" Religious The LordIs My Shepherd The Brothers',Vootion: Natural Ideal by Robert D. Cihlar, S.J. Problen~s of the Late Vocation , byDavid "B. IVadhams~ S.M.~ Is Religious DisObedience Al~ays, a Sin? by Joseph J. Farraher, S.J. The Problem of Transition for the Junior sister, by Sister Mary Magdalen, O.P. , Survey of Roman Documents Views, News, PreViews Questions and ,Answers Book Reviews 193 200 207 215 225 232 237 ,240 " 248 The Lord Is My Shepherd The Lord is my shepherd: I want for nothing; he makes me to lie in green pastures, He leads me to waters where I may rest; he restores my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Although I walk in a darksome valley, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy crook and thy staff: these comf.o~:t me. Thou preparest a table for me before the eyes of my foes; Thou. anointest my head with oil; my cup brims over. Goodness and kindness will follow me all the days of my life, And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord days without end. BY A SPECIAL INSPIRATION the Psalmist foresaw that the Redeemer would come in the flesh and that He would found a Church and that He would be a Shepherd over it. However, this is not the only instance in the Sacred Scriptures where God alludes in very distinct language to the "Shepherd" mentioned by the words of the Psalmist in this beautiful psalm; but the "Shepherd" whom God has set over His only true Church is also very clearly indicated in the words of Ezekiel where it is stated: "And I will set up one shepherd over them; and he shall feed them, and he shall be their shepherd" (Ez 34:23). Now what is significant in these words is that the same term is here used for "shepherd" and "to feed," so that the sense is that this Shepherd which God has set over His Church is both our Guide and our Food as well. The Lord is not only our Shepherd; but He is also the means by which we are kept in existence, both body and soul. The Lord is our Shepherd who feeds us with Himself; for by means of the Church which He established He continues to say, "Take and eat! This is My Body" (Mt 26:27). By means of His Church He is able to carry out the words of this psalm and fulfill their implication by feed-ing us with Himself; for that is what the words "the Lord is my Shepherd" mean or imply in the original Hebrew, since in The author of this article is an American layman who is living a contemplative life and who wish~s to rhmain anonymous. 193 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Review for Religious that language no distinction is made between tending, govern-ing, and guiding a flock and feeding it. What a wonderful thing it is to have such a Shepherd who is able to feed His sheep, namely, all the faithful, with His own Precious Body and Blood ! But God is not only our Shepherd ; He is also our companion and our friend, since this word shepherd is often used to des-ignate the idea of companionship and friendship. "How beautiful art thou, my love, how beautiful art thou" (Cant 4:1). It is significant that in addressing the souls of all who love Him, God should here make use of a word which is a derivative of the term used by the Psalmist when he refers to Him as his "Shepherd." And so by an extended use of the term shepherd we may refer to our Lord as someone whom we love and in whom we find our whole delight. The Lord is our Shepherd in the sense that it is in Him alone that we can find our whole delight. He alone is the sole object of our love: The Lord is my Shepherd because the guidance He exerts over me is the guid-ance of love and delight. He is Love in nature and essence. The Lord is my Shepherd in the sense that I am being ruled and governed by means of that everlasting love and delight which He is. The Shepherd here spoken of by'the Psalmist is none other than the King of love, and so the dominion He exercises over us is the dominion of love and love alone." God guides and governs us by mean of His love. "The Lo~:d is my Shepherd. I want for nothing." What can be lacking to him who is governed and guided by Love Itself? The Lord is my Shepherd in the sense that I have God Himself for my close com-panion and friend. From the day of my birth 'til the day of my death, this guide in the form of Love Incarnate will be my close companion and friend, so that no circumstance can arise in which His help and friendship will not be there to see me through everything I shall ever have to undergo. Having such a Shepherd we can all say, "I want nothing," that is to say, no circumstance will ever arise in our lives in which we shall suffer any sort of insufficiency; for we will always have what we need from this Divine Lover of our soul, this God who both created and re-deemed us. "I know mine," He tells us in the Gospel of St. John (10:15). He knows us better than we know ourselves, and no real want we can ever have will be overlooked by Him who has loved us from all eternity. There are times when we may think we need what this "Good Shepherd" sees we do not need, and which would not be 194 July, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD of any value for our eternal salvation. One thing we can be sure of, and that is with such a lover as God is, anything we really need to advance in our effort to get to know and love Him better we will most certainly have; and so we shall never be 'devoid of the good necessary for our progress along our journey to our heavenly home. The whole Bible has often been compared to a medicine chest ¯ in which may be found remedies suitable to every need the soul can have on its journey through time. And so, just as we think it nothing at all to rush over to the drug store to get something to soothe our bodily aches, so in like manner we should never be slow to turn to the pages of Holy Writ whenever we feel we need some words of help and consolation in the troubles and trials of this life. Our Lord is often referred to as a physician in the Scriptures. By this it is meant that we should use the words He speaks to us in them as a sort of medicine to apply to the ills of our souls. "Honor the Physician," we read in the Book of Ecclesiasticus (38:1). "Honor the Physician for the need thou hast of Him. For all healing is from God . The most high hath created medicines . . . and the wise man will not abhor them." Though these words refer to the medicines the doctor prescribes for the ills of our bodies, we know that in addition to the literal meaning of these words, there is also a spiritual and a mystical one. They also refer to that Heavenly Physician which our Lord is and the many remedies He has devised for the many ills of our souls. "The most high hath created medicines" in the form of the Church with her entire sacramental system; and so, "a wise man will not abhor them." At present, though, we intend to limit our consideration to the medicines to be found in the Sacred Scriptures and especially as these may be had in the words of the twenty-second psalm, and in many others as well; for in one of them we actually see the Psalmist call upon God as we do on an earthly doctor and say to Him, "Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed." These two words heal and healed are so rich in Hebrew that we can hardly realize the comfort they bring when read in the original, since besides the connotation of healing they are also a metaphor for comfort and consolation. When in the words of the Psalmist we ask God to "heal" us, we include the petition that we should be restored to that pristine felicity we all posses-sed before we fell into sin. We ask God that we should one day win back that same unmarred happiness Adam once possessed in Paradise and which the words of the twenty-second psalm 195 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Review for Religious reawaken in our soul as often as the beauty of them comes to our mind: "The Lord is .my Shepherd; I shall not.want." The complete fulfillment of all that these words imply will take place after we have been completely healed of the effects of original sin and restored to the state of innocence Adam had before the Fall. "We shall not Want," because after this life is over all our desires shall be fulfilled and there will be nothing we have to have which God will not give us in the complete and perfect giving of Himself to us in the life to come. "We shall not want" because after we die God shall be all in all to us so that, having Him with all the fullness and completion in which we will then have Him, we shall .lack nothing to be eternally happy. God will then "spread a table" before us on which He will Himself be the food of our glorified state. For if even during this life "the Lord is our Shepherd," in the sense that it is in the possession of Him alone that we can find our true delight, what will it not be to have that same delight in Him when we shall become completely assimilated to all that He is in the life to come? If even on this earth we derive our whole satisfaction in the thought that we have God who is Love Itself for our companion and friend, what shall it not be for us to enjoy that companionship and friendship of His when we are where alone we can truly and fully partici-pate in it? And if even while we are on this earth we find i~ such a delight to be ruled and governed by Him who is Love Itself, what will it be when we shall have that guidance and governance in Heaven itself? "The Lord is my Shepherd." What a privilege it is to have God Himself to guide and conduct us through every vicissitude and event of this life ; for with such a guide, "even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil, for He guides me in the right paths." The Psalmist says that as long as he shall live he has nothing to fear, because it is the God of righteousness who con-ducts along the paths of His own righteousness, and that He does so for His name's sake, namely, for the sake of Jesus, since we could never have that original righteousness we once pos-sessed in Adam unless Christ offered Himself for us as a victim for our sins. And so it is for the sake of the sufferings of Christ that we are now able to tread those paths of righteousness that will lead us to the realms of unending bliss in Heaven. "And a path and a way shall be there," Isaiah tells us (35:8) "and it shall be called the holy way." Our Lord said He was that "holy way" when He said, "I am the Way." He is the right path of 196 J~tly, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD which this Psalmist speaks and along which he is being guided by God. No wonder he can say that, "even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil, for you are at my side." For what shall we be afraid of when.we realize that He who both made and re-deemed us is constantly on the lookout for our every need, and He will permit nothing to happen to us which will not conduce to the greater good of our soul both in time and in eternity? "In .verdant pastures He gives me repose; beside restful waters He leads me." In these words the Psalmist wishes to point out God's tender compassion for the human race and the many comforts and consolations with which we are provided from the very first days of our existence until our last breath. "Show me," the soul says to her Belgved, "Show-me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, wh~re Thou liest in the midday" (Cant 1:6). Thh "repose" here spoken of is that of reclining on the bosom of Christ, mentioned in the Gospel of St. John (13:25), for the soul's rest in Christ is here compared to the pleasant and refreshing experience we have when we lie down on the tender grass on a hot summer day. Another signifi-cation for "repose" is the idea of being interchanged. "Repose" refers to that immingling of the soul with that of her beloved Lord by means of some extraordinary grace which makes of the two one; so that the "verdant pastures" are those exquisite de-lights the soul finds as she feels herself being drawn into the inmost essence of Him whom she loves--namely, the beauty and comeliness of Christ. The soul speaks of the pleasure she has in Christ as a sort of lying down on the young, fresh, and tender grass, in order to indicate the pleasing sensation which the rest she finds in Him procures for her. "Beside restful waters He leads me." These restful waters are the vast number of bless-ings we receive from God and which afford us so much consola-tion in the sorrows we have to bear. "He refreshes my soul." God "refreshes" the soul when by means of His grace it is re-stored to that pristine beauty it had before it fell into si.n, for the word "refresh" means to convert, to bring back, to restore, and to renew. Whenever we are being renewed in Christ, we are being, refreshed in soul and reconverted to God. The fullness of conversion will take place by means of that renewal, that res-toration, that complete conversion and refreshing of the heaven and earth spoken of in the Apocalypse of St. John (21:1), where-in he tells us that he saw a "new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away." Through 197 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Re4)iew for Religious sin, Isaiah tells us (24:5), "the earth is infected by the in- .habi.tants thereof." And so the time will come when it will pass away and be recreated in Christ, so that at that time our souls will. be completely refreshed because of their being completely converted to God. At present our conversion is only partial; and so the refreshment of which this psalm speaks to us is not as perfect as we would desire it to be, since we still need many things which after we die we will no longer have to have in order to be perfectly and completely happy. It is only after this life is over that our soul will be completely refreshed with that refreshment and renewal in Christ of which this psalm speaks. "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." What is this "dark valley"? Literally, it is the valley of the shadow of death, which in Hebrew is used poetically for very thick darkness. When we read the Book of Job, we find this word shadow-of-death being used on five different occasions to denote what no other expressions convey. In order to express the contempt he had for the present life, Job says: "Let the day perish wherein I was born. Let the darkness and the shadow of death cover it" (3:3-4). On another occasion he character-izes our entire existence in this world as "a land of misery and darkness where the shadow of death dwelleth" (10:22). In the third verse of the twenty-eighth chapter, he again makes use of the same word in order to indicate that our whole life is lived in death's shadow and that we will never cease to be freed from its image until we are out of this world. And the Psalmist speaks of walking in the valley of the shadow of death, because as long as we live we are never free from the fear of our having to undergo the penalties we have to pay for the sin of our first parents. We walk in the valley of the shadow of death, because as long as we live we can never be free from the necessity of dying; and the thought of our death haunts us from the cradle to the grave. We are said to be walking in the valley of the shadow of death because we always live with its image before our eyes, since there is nothing we can see that will not some day have an end. As long as we live we walk, as it were, in the shadow of death, in that the calamities and miseries of life which will last as long as we will, are a sort of image of death, since they prepare us for its approach when the time will come for us to leave this vale of tears. And yet the Psalmist says- and we should all say with him: "Even though I walk in the dark valley -- the valley of the shadow of death -- I fear no evil ; for 198 July, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD You are at my side." The Psalmist tells us that we have nothing to fear from death, because Christ has removed its sting. "He suffered death," St. Paul tells, us, "that He might by God's gracious bounty experience the throes of death for the sake of every human being . . . that through death He might destroy him who had control over death; that is, the devil, and deliver those whom throughout their lives the fear of death held in bondage" (Heb 2:9-15). "I will deliver them out of the hand of death," our Lord tells us through the words of Osee. "0 death, I will be thy death; 0 hell, I will be thy bite." The Psalmist knew this; and that is why he says, "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." He knew that Christ would one day die and that by means of His own sacred death we would be freed from the bondage of death, so that even though we die, yet we shall live forever that life He merited for us by all He underwent for our sake. "I fear no evil," we say to God, "for you are at my side." We are not afraid of anything that can happen to us in this life, in-cluding death itself, because we are assured by the words of this psalm that in everything we have to go through, God will assist us by His divine aid, and we will always find ourselves upheld by Him in a manner too marvelous to comprehend. "When thou shalt pass through the waters," that is, the trials and afflic-tions of this life, including the agony of dying, "I will be with thee," our Lord says to us in words we can no more question than we can question our own existence. "When thou _.shalt walk in the fire, thou shalt not be burnt: and the flames shall not burn thee" (Is 43:2). With this divine aid of God Himself before his miffd's eye, no wonder the Psalmist was able to say: "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." For what is there anyone can fear when he is given the strength to trust God in those most agonizing moments of his life when his soul will be wrenched from the flesh of which it formed such a close com-panionship all the time it was in the body? What can unduly alarm him who is not unduly frightened by what so many dread ? Christ has destroyed death's terrors, and so it is now nothing more than a sleep from which we will one day awake as gently as we rise up every morning from our previous night's rest. And so, if we are afraid to die, we should also be afraid to go to sleep every night as well. If we fear God with the filial and re-verential fear He wants to be feared with, we will not have to fear anything else--death included. 199 The Brothers' Vocation as a Natural Ideal Robert D. Cihlar, S.J. yOUTH is idealistic. Whatever appeals to it as the greater good, that it will seek. It will seek it with a determination seldom found in later life. The child's changing ideas of what it wants to be when it "grows up" is a simple confirmation of this fact. At one time it aspires to be a fireman, at another a doctor, and so on. The desire changes with the appreciation of the good to be attained- one's own personal good. The child is led, without knowing the meaning of the word, by an ideal. The ideal not o.nly fires the imagination but it must also be somethin$ within reach of the abilities a man knows are his. A child does not fully realize its limitations. As a consequence it aspires to things far above its present capabilities. For the adult and the young man,. however, the ideal must be something which is possible--and possible through one's own efforts, tal-ents, and opportunities. An ideal must be capable of satisfying a man's sense of personal worth. It must also be achievable by this man. He must be able to see himself as realizing this ideal. People he knows, others he has read about have reached this goal; why not he? Often, not fully appreciating his own limitations, he will, like the child, aspire to things which are not for him. As realization comes, so the ideal changes or deepens. For the time being, how-ever, the mere possession of an ideal is enough to cause him to strive for it. It is not difficult to see how the makings of an ideal ar~ to be found in the married state. It takes a little more discernment to find them in the other vocations; and perhaps this is the reason, naturally speaking, why most people find their vocation in marriage. To be looked up to, even in the small circle of the family, to be the head of that family, to be needed, to be loved and to love, all these satisfy a man's sense of personal worth. The fact that others have failed in this state does not deter him Brother Robert D. Cihlar is stationed at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 200 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION nor make it less available. Rather he is all the more convinced, because he possesses an ideal, that his case will be different. Now let us take up a comparison in religious life also based upon the supposition of the ideal as given above. The priesthood at one time or another seems to appeal to most Catholic boys. They are attracted by the reverence shown the priesthood, and this in turn gives them an appreciation of its dignity. They see themselves invested with this dignity, receiving the reverence now accorded to another. They see themselves at the altar, in the confessional, at the bedside of the sick and dyfng. Their sense of personal worth is satisfied, and they know that the goal is achievable because others have made it. Their efforts could bring them there. We have present then in the priesthood two of the elements which go to make up an ideal. This in turn:,Ldepending on the intensity of the desire, becomes a motivating force to (1) prayer, leading to a more obvious cooperation with grace; (2) reading, leading to a greater knowledge of the true meaning of the priest-hood; and (3) a greater application to study, since scholastic ability is necessary. One thing .leads gradually to another. A vocation does not appear all at once but comes, like the dawn; gradually. No one of these is sufficient in itself. Most x~ocations, however, can be traced back to the development of the ideal. Vocations to the pries.thood are more plentiful beca.use they follow the pattern and contain the essentials of an ideal. It .is not so, however, in the case of the lay brother. Public opinion, and consequently the general opinion of youth, is against such a vocation. It is looked down upon simply (and mainly) because it lacks those two motivationally essential parts of an ideal. A young man cannot imagine himself in the position of one who is looked down upon, who possesses in the eyes of the ldity, and often the clergy, no natural worth or dignity. Why is this? Why must there be a lack of this natural value in this way of life? Why must the motivation for accepting such a vocation be only and solely supernatural?. Obviously this is delicate ~round on which it behooves one to tread ever so lightly, if it is to be trod at all. But it is not my intention in any way to minimize the supernatural motive. A vocation without such is no vocation at all. Nor do I wish to say that it is of lesser importance, for even that which I choose to call natural motivation is in reality an action of grace building on nature. It is sometimes true that the natural motivation is 201 ROBERT D. CIHLAR Review for Religious the more obvious of the two, but in the course of, let us say, the preparation for the priesthood, grace builds on that natural motive to such an extent that the supernatural motive becomes the first consideration. My contention, therefore, is that both natural and supernatural motivation, though not of equal im-portance, are of equal necessity, simply because we are human beings. With this explanation, let us try for a subjective viewpoint of what a young man sees when he looks at the life of the lay brother. Perhaps from such a viewpoint we shall catch some hint of the defects in the presentation of this vocation and the possible errors in our thinking concerning it. Undoubtedly the greatest deterent to a young man is the prevalent attitude among the laity, and some clergy, that the brothers' life is a demeaning of self. They feel that the brother is an admitted failure--or becomes such whe~ he becomes a brother. It is rather hard to dislodge the idea that the lay brother is one who "could not" become a priest because of inferior mental ability or some other defect. Popular Catholic literature and various hagiographers of the past have contributed to this idea. The humility of some saints has been demonstrated by their wishing to be with the brothers or work with them (mean-ing to demean themselves). Among present-day Catholic books the Mass of Brother Michael, though a romantic and enter-taining story, is an example of extremely poor propaganda material. Yet it is from such weakly representative literature that attitudes are formed, and once having formed become tra-ditional. In short, the persistent idea is that a man who becomes a lay brother is exceptional, in either his holiness or his ignor- . ance. It is not a vocation "possible" to the average man because it offends his sense of personal worth. It is within reach of his abilities, but it is also often beneath them. It therefore does not fulfill the conditions of the ideal, in the natural order, as ex-pressed above. This idea poses a very thorny problem, but a problem which must be solved if the numbers of the brothers are to increase. A change is evidently necessary in our thinking--and actions-for the mass of tradition is against the brother. The Church, from earliest times, has made use of the principle of adaptation; and adaptation to the times and their needs is the thing to be considered. 202 July, 1960 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION Tradition dating from the Middle Ages has assigned the brothers' vocation to the uneducated and lower classes who, wishing to serve God more perfectly, seek this perfdction in the religious life. Now, going farther back to the natal days of monasticism, we find that this was not true then. The early "Fathers" were not Fathers at all, but in their manner of living the equivalent of the latter-day brother. They engaged in manual labor, meditation, penance, and so forth, but were seldom if ever ordained priests. Necessity, among which was an ever-widening ministry in the monastic groups, brought about the inclusion of priests in their ranks. As the accent on the ministry grew, 'grad-ually the bulk of membership became priestly. Men of education, since educated men were the exceptioh, were directed to the priesthood. Those without education could not hope to become priests ; but, still wishing to become rel!~ious, they were directed to the life of the lay brother. This insistence upon educated men for the priesthood was brought about as part of the much needed reform of the clergy at the time of the Reformation. It also, as a side result, brought about a complete reversal of the original scheme of monasticism; or at least it was the culmination of a reversal that had been taking place for some centuries. However, considering modern' ~i~nes we find the educational picture itself reversed (at least in most ~vestern countries) and the illiterate man becomes the exception. In the Unite'd States, for example, the major portion of the population has completed at least a high school education; and the years since the Second World War find more and more high school graduates going on to college. Superimpose this picture upon that of the time of the Reformation, and a natural explanation will appear for the decrease in brothers' vocations. However, it is only a natural explanation. This does not necessarily mean that God is calling fewer young men to His service as brothers. It does mean that these men, better educated and better qualified, no longer con-sider this vocation as an ideal or even an alternative, which it much more readily was considered a few centuries ago. The brothers' vocation offers them too little in the way of a sense of personal worth. Tell me that the reason for this is a lack of supernatural insight and I will readily admit that this is true. In the order of grace the brothers' vocation has both great dignity and value. But the young man of today, unfortunately, has a much more sophisticated attitude toward life and greater cultural advan- 203 ROBERT D. CIHLAR Review for Religious rages without the balance of living in an age of faith which would have fostered this insight. This is a fact, and we have to adapt ourselves and our methods to it. It need not be without its own peculiar blessing. We are, after all, instruments which God uses. We commit a heresy of sorts if we expect His grace alone to do the job of foster-ing vocations. We must be prepared to offer candidates opportuni-ties in their work for God which are suited to their greater educa-tion and better-develo.ped abilities. Certainly in the congregations of teaching brothers provision is made for this in the various ad-ministrative and educational aspects of school life. The boys see this and respect it. The primary concern here, however, is with those mixed orders or congregations composed of priests and lay brothers. Here the brothers' duties as a rule are menial as well as manual. If, for example, a brother is qualified by his talents and/or education to work in posts of considerable trust, dignitY, and even title, why should they not be given to them. Such posts as treasurer, registrar, superintendent of buildings and gro.unds, promotion, public relations, library, and so forth, occur as possibilities. I am sure there are many others. Given these posts, they should also be delegated enough authority to act freely in them. I might even say that should a brother be discovered to have talents in these lines .and.not be qualified by education, such education should be provided. All things being equal, there is really nothing that a priest does which cannot be done by a brother except in ,-the direct area of the ministry. I certainly do not wish to advocate the idea that the brotherhood is equal to the priesthood; but I do hold that in his capabilities he is often equal to and sometimes better than the priest. When this is so, prescinding from personalities and persons, should he not be allowed to fully employ these capabilities for God and for the benefit of those who would see him and get to know him? If we want to get brothers who are well-qualified in their lines, do we not also have the duty to God to make the best use of the men He sends us, even to the extent of. demonstrating their qualities to others as a means of influencing them? The introduction of the idea of example as influence pre-sents another aspect in the matter of vocations. Seeing is believing. With brothers openly shown in positions of responsi-bility, an acknowledgment of their abilities is forced upon the beholder. Association will gradually accord a greater respect, provided of course the man conducts himself as one worthy of 204 July, 1960 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION respect. Respect accorded in and out of the order or congrega-tion ought gradually to influence or raise the calling, from the natural viewp5int, to conform with the principles of the ideal. In effect, what I would maintain is that there is a need for a greater "going in their door to bring them out ours." But first, of course, there must also be a change in attitude from within the order or congregation itself, or more precisely, among the members of the order or congregation. It is axiomatic that young men have a sixth sense in de-tecting the defects of their teachers or superiors. It is at times disconcerting to have them expose our weakest points. Though we might all profess a great reverence and esteem for the brothers, too few of us really feel it. Too often, in a rare and honest moment, we find the prevailing attitude toward the brothers in ourselves. We have only a notional knowledge as opposed to a real conviction. This is readily detected and carried over to the students and is reproduced in them. A patronizing, condescending attitude, even one of pity, obliterates the rosy picture we would like to paint; and the student sees right through it. He sees, often more clearly than we, the idea of inequality, of superior and inferior, master and servant. And we should not be surprised that he does not find this attractive. Why is this? Is it possibly because the social attitude has evolved in contradistinction to our own at home? That is, do we in practice have a social attitude toward the brothers which does not correspond to what we hold for society in general? Is this contradiction at home possibly one o~ the reasons that we, who are exteriorly champions of this new social attitude, are not so readily accepted as its champions? Undoubtedly there must be a hierarchy of superiors and subjects for the preserva-tion of good order. This is a pure sociological fact. However, it is not necessary that there be superior and inferior on the social level in religious orders or congregations, which finds its equivalent in the caste system. We maintain the "fiction" of all being equally members of the order or congregation; but this is true only as regards spiritual matters. Actually it works out to the maxim that some are more equal than others as far as temporalities are concerned. If, for instance, the priests are allowed something, the equivalent to the brothers must be less good, and so on right down the line. This spells out to the laity what they assume is our real attitude. 205 ROBERT D. CIHLAR The purpose of pointing up these defects is most certainly not an attempt to antagonize. It is merely to point out things in our actions which negate our words, thereby withdrawing from this vocation some of the sense of personal worth. A prospect of such things, contained in the acceptance of a broth-er's vocation, cannot help but prove repugnant to the young men we would like to gain, for they both sense and see them. Con-sidering the society and cultural background in which they live, it is the only natural conclusion they can come to. We stand convicted by the principles we advocate and the profession we make. We ourselves are not without guilt in this lack of an "ideal" in the life of the brother. We seem to expect almost over-whelming actions of grace in the face of obstacles we have helped to erect, and it is unjust to do so. In becoming a brother, a young man today must surrender much more than did his predecessor of a few centuries ago. We have no ~-ight to expect miracles of grace. Very few Pauls have been thrown from their horses. There are no immediate conclusions this writer can come to or any pat solutions he can offer as regards these problems. Such, as a matter of fact, is not his aim. His aim is rather to raise a doubt in the minds of those who read this, to provoke discussion, to call attention to the possibility of error in our present thinking. As I have mentioned before, there is no intention of min-imizing the necessity of supernatural motivation, of the need of prayer and grace in the fostering of vocations. But I am deeply convinced that we have been seriously mistaken in not providing a so-called natural motivation to accompany it. When, together with the action of grace, we have provided the mak-ings of an ideal, then men will not be lacking who will wish to follow it. Problems of the Late Vocation David B. Wadhams, IF A MAN around thirty decides to begin studying for the priesthood, he is beginning a bold undertaking which entails the hazards, though not the romance, of real adventure. The difficulties he will face will not be those encountered by the man of action, but problems he will have in abundance. These problems are perhaps no more serious than those of his younger confreres in the seminary; but they have a complexity and an urgency which make them special, requiring special considera-tion. These problems must be faced if the man is to persevere; they must be solved if he is to be a happy and efficient priest. Religious congregations now seem more willing then ever before to accept older candidates who are qualified, and the religious life increases the problems the older man must face. How does an older man adjust to community life, the rule, the vows? How does he meet the demands of fraternal charity, surrounded as he is by men younger by ten or fifteen years and presumably more resilient psychically? Will his years in the seminary be a loss if he does not persevere? Is he not just burying himself there, during that crucial period when other men are carving out careers? What if he should fail? The problems are not limited to the older man himself; religious superiors must also face special problems in the case of older religious seminarians. Should they be given any sort of ~pecial consideration or exemption from ordinary seminary and religious discipline? Should they be given greater responsibili-ties because of the experience they bring with them to the seminary? Like superiors, spiritual directors also find that the presence of older seminarians is not without its perplexities. Should they be given more or less direction than the younger men? How should the direction of the older seminarian differ from that of the younger seminarian? Why does it seem so dif-ficult at times to make contact with the older seminarians? Mr. David B. Wadhams is presently studying theology at Marist College, 3875 Harewood Road, N. E., Washington 17, D. C. 207 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review ]or Religious The range and number of such difficulties could be extended indefinitely, but it will be sufficient here to limit consideration of the matter to five points where special difficulties would seem to be present for the older seminarian: (1) the older seminar-ian's special need for patience and humility; (2) his impatience with "unbusinesslike" administrative procedure; (3) his im-patience with superiors and directors; (4) his chafing at being classed with younger men; and (5) his nostalgia, more or less prolonged, for the lay state. The Need for Patience and Humility It seems very likely that special dispositions of Divine Providence are to be seen when a man of around the age of thirty becomes a seminarian. However deep the consolation may be for the older man in this thought (and it is a considera-tion that he must keep uppermost in his mind), yet it must also be realized that this very ordering of things by Divine Providence also entails a special exercise of patience and of humility--the patience and the humility of the old man on the bench with younger students. If this lesson of patience in the practice of humility is not learned, he will not be able to persevere. Of course, all seminarians must learn these virtues; and all of them haveindeed ample opportunity to practice them. But a younger man who knows that his priestly life will begin at, say, twenty-seven has the impatience of youthful impetuosity to tame. On the other hand, the older seminarian has the gnaw-ing discomfort of knowing that he must begin a life at forty. Nor is it much consolation to him when a bright-eyed funda-mentalist slaps him on the shoulder and says, "That's all right, Dad, life begins at forty!" This truism soon fails to elicit any but the feeblest enthusiasm in the older man. This general situation forms a sort of background against which the entire life of the older seminarian must be enacted; life, he knows, is short, and his own, despite his age, has not yet really begun. However manfully he may struggle to be patient and to overcome the sense of frustration and unrest that flows from such a situation, his general background of impatience cannot help but be increased by more specific difficulties which he encounters. 208 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION Impatience with the "Unbusinesslike" For the sake of concreteness, assume that a man comes to a religiousinstitute after ten years as a minor executive in the sales department of some large corporation. After an initial period in the religious life of great good will and satisfaction, he may begin to find himself becoming impatient with what he considers to be the "unbusinesslike" and "unrealistic" opera-tional methods of the seminary. He is told that he should bring suggestions and complaints to his superiors during regular interviews known as adminis-trative counseling. But he finds that his suggestions for improve-ment are met with aloofness and subsequently may be ignored. He may find the cordiality of his superiors somewhat strained and entirely different from the warm spontaneity of office good humor: The happy camaraderie of the old days in business seems to radiate friendliness and mutual good-will in contrast to the remote politeness of this administrative consulation. He finds, in short, that businesslike office methods may not always be found in religious congregationg; and that established cus-toms, even undesirable ones, have a tendency to cling. He may .be shocked that buildings and equipment have been allowed to ~leteriorate because of improper delegation of responsibility in maintaining them, or because of what~ he considers a misdirected cult of poverty. After years spent in surroundings presentable, if not luxurious, he may find cracked and peeling paint in sleeping rooms and officeg, together with ancient furniture, serviceable perhaps, but piteously unappealing to the eye. Administrative-duties may be relegated to a single over-worked lay brother who has to manage a coinplicated acc0unting system with machines years beyond their prime. "Duplicating equipment may be gently awry, p~'oducing legible but~scr.atchy copy. Cash accountihg may be quite nonchalarit. Public relations techniques may be hopelessly mismanaged or totally nonexistent. The man may tend to exaggerate these deficiencies as time goes on, and his itch to rearrange things increases. Why-don't they call someone in for an audit? Why must certain precious ma-chines be available for the indiscriminate and uncontrolled use of fifty people? Why does fresh paint seem incompatible with poverty- surely the walls were freshly painted once? If on the other hand he find~ himself in a congregation whose progressive foresight has placed men of vision in positions '209 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review for Religious of authority, the subject will surely find some evidences of inefficiency. The ease with which a man finds matter for criti-cism is a match for the most progressive system. Perhaps the very businesslike character of the place will strike him as out of place. A man's past will stand him in good stead when he becomes a religious; but the stresses and strains which this life imposes will affect him in those areas where he is mos~ vul-nerable- the sphere of his accumulated treasury of general know-how. Superiors and Spiritual Directors Then, too, the vow of obedience has a peculiar democratizing effect. Along with his deep respect for the office of superior, the subject realizes that both are bound by the same ties. The superior, no less than he, is directly subject to the authority of those above him; and this authority is just as stringent in its demands of obedience. Back in the office, the former senior accountant or advertising man saw his superior in a greatly privileged position within the circle of major executives. He was conscious of a degree of separation measured in terms of seniority and yearly income. Now he finds himself in the religious life where his superior, though he exerts the same authority as his former employer, may be a near contemporary, sleeping just down the hall, and using the same bath. The older seminarian realizes, to be sure, that the motive of his religious obedience is a supernatural one; but, being flesh and blood, in certain cases he cannot help but experience a sense of somewhat dis-mayed surprise at a superior-subject relationship that on the natural level may be so different from his previous relations with authority in the business and commercial world. Another problem for the older seminarian may be spiritual direction. He may find that he has difficulty "opening up." This will be especially so if his director is a younger man, or if he considers his director can have no comprehension of his char-acter. Suppose, for example, that the director is a younger man, that he entered religion on the completion of high school, and that he has had relatively little experience except in the direc-tion of seminarians. In such a case the older seminarian may find it difficult to talk about anything more dangerous than the weather, since he is aware of the considerable difference in background between himself and his director. This and similar cases may cause real difficulties in communication; the difficul-ties will be overcome only if the older seminarian recalls that 210 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION the same Providence which placed him in the seminary has also given him his superiors and directors. Armed with this con-sideration he must then put complete trust in his director, even if he finds it costs him dearly in wounded pride. As has been stated above, he has a special lesson in humility to learn. As a matter of fact, of course, younger directors can be quite satisfactory. Being aware of their relative inexperience, they tend to exercise great prudence in applying theological principles to concrete cases. Moreover, since many problems are solved by the mere telling, the seminarian should be quite con-tent if be can find a man to whom he can talk freely. Relations with the Younger Seminarians Probably the greatest trial which the older seminarian must undergo is being in a class of much younger men. Many institutes have a minor seminary to which they will send the older candidate for a year or so to give him some Latin and to observe him before sending him to the novitiate. The age dif-ference at this level is so great that he will usually be allowed certain privileges to make this period of adjustment easier. At the novitiate, however, he is considered for all practical pur-poses the contemporary of his fellow novices. Here the strict observance of the exterior prescriptions of the rule will place a heavy burden on a man who has enjoyed years of independ-ence. If, for example, he has been a heavy smoker for ten years or so and if he must observe a no-smoking rule, the damage to his good disposition will perhaps be compensated for in a cor-responding growth in character; but the sacrifice is sure to be severe--more so than for younger smokers. After leaving the novitiate where spiritual consolations and graces may have made the way easier for him, the older man' must still face years of study where the difference in age is no less than it was in the novitiate. These years of living with younger men un-questionably present a strain for his vocation; they will, how-ever, if properly met with patience and humility, give him his greatest opportunity for growth in emotional stability and for progress in the spiritual life. Most younger seminarians show brightness and intelligence in their speech and behavior. But at times this basie intelligence is accompanied by the thoughtlessness of immaturity. Many left their homes in middle adolescence; and sometimes their deport-ment tends to remain at the adolescent level, especially since 211 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review for Religion,s no one is constantly correcting them. This lack of maturity will be vexing for the older man, who is only too prone to see in the gaucherie of a few what he may tend to think of as the general boorishness of a class. Young men, for example, have an ex-tremely cavalier way of treating furniture. ,And if the older seminarian has spent the better part of three or four m~nths recovering and reupholstering the armchairs in the recreation room, he' has to swallow hard and bite his lip to keep from shouting at some young philosopher, blithely and quite uncon-sciously wiping'chocolate-covered fingers on the back of a newly covered chair, ¯ The older man must be careful in conversation too. His younger confreies will usually have no more than a ~udimentary background in the fields of non-religious knowledge.-Discussions of politics, art, the theater, economics, literature, all tend to be somewhat superficial. The younger man may often show a quick theoretical perception, yet he may lack sufficient critical discern-ment. Because of this the older man may find himself exercising an air of intellectual superiority and condescendingly needling his companions for their lack of sophistication. As one young seminarian has put it: "The older men ought to stop and think now and then that they have no monopoly on ideas. They could at least listen, even if they disagree." :o. In the midst of'such difficulties the older seminarian could well reflect that if he sometimes finds it difficult to be with the younger men, surely they too find his company occasionally try-ing. If he has passed through the fiery trials of the crucial years between twenty and thirty, his very scars should remind him that seminary life is not always easy for the young men who hunger for action and the exercise of their ministerial labors. Let him think back upon what he was doing at their age; the contrast should fill him with the desire for patience and for-bearance. If he was in the service, his amazement will be com-plete that fifty or more young men can .live together cheerfully, peacefully sharing a life of work, study, prayer, and play. oIn the service, as h~ knows, men behaved quite differently; by contrast, the charity of seminarians clearly shows the effect of supernatural grace. He should reflect maturely that if he is annoyed at little gaucheries and breaches of etiquette, some thoughtlessness and lack of discipline, he will never find more serious faults; for however much he may see of thoughtlessness in the seminary, he will encounter no deliberate malice. Indeed, 212 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION one of his greatest sufferings may be his anguish that he ~cannot accept the small shortcomings of others with greater grace and equanimity. Nostalgia for the Lay State During the first two or three years of his training the older man may be subject to a fierce nostalgia for the lay state. Just as the Jews hungered for the delights of their former, life in Egypt, the older seminarian may sometimes be seriously tempted to think of his life "in the world" as much more useful and vital. This feeling will be all the stronger in the man of great vitality. At times all the reasoning that brought him to his priestly studies will become darkened and submerged. He will forget that one great reason for his having left everything behind was a dissatisfaction with what he was doing. He may begin to chafe at certain restrictions, desiring freedom from the restraint of the seminary rule. What he begins to miss is the habitual adult independence he has always known. Sometimes he will think: "I am too fiercely independent; I am not tem-peramentally suited to the regular life; these habits of inde-pendence are ingrained." As serious as this temptation may be, it will tend to dis-appear as his security in his vocation grows; and in most cases it will not be a source of great anxiety after the~pronouncement of perpetual vows. The nostalgia for the lay state is one temp-tation which .can best be handled in spiritual direction. The subject should regard it as a serious temptation and conscien-tiously follow the course his director prescribes for him. Once a man finds himself in the major seminary of a religious con-gregation, he can rest in complete confidence as to his choice of a state in life. He has chosen by heeding the call; whether he should continue is for his superiors and spiritual :directors to decide. The cool and firm acceptance of this fact will save. the man the added anguish of continually doubting his vocation when the temptation arises to return to his former state of life. Conclusion The older seminarian must train himself to face his trials and difficulties peacefully and tranquilly. His age may indeed tend to make him less flexible in certain respects; he will be less subject to "formation," more set in his attitudes and out-look on life. But this very situation may also be an advantage. If he is mentally awake, he will be at the very., peak of his learning powers. Years of training in judgment will compensate 213 DAVID B. WADHAMS for any alleged diminution of learning powers said to begin after full adulthood is reached. Although the older seminarian may be tempted to think that his best years are being wasted in the seminary, he should remember that, just because he is older, he will see more deeply into the problems of philosophy and theology and that he will draw from them a greater intel-lectual enrichment and practical value. Finally, there are two general attitudes that will greatly .help an older man along in his seminary life. The two attitudes, one natural, the other supernatural, are so diverse as to be almost incongruous when juxtaposed together. Yet the two can work together to ease the trials of seminary life for him. The first attitude is that of a sense of humor. The man who finds his own idiosyncrasies laughable has a safety valve which he will need to use frequently. Since he is constantly confronted with human foibles, especially his own, it is far better to laugh at them with hearty, tolerant, and loving amusement than to dwell on them as consant pricks to pride and self-esteem. The second attitude is one that has been hinted at above; it is a complete trust in Divine Providence. Whatever can be said on the human level of religious life, there is never any waste in the management of things by the fatherly hand of God. The years the older seminarian spent "in the world" as well as the protracted time spent in seminary life before ordination are not useless but completely functional from the viewpoint of the Father who has counted even the hairs of our head. In this sense there is no such thing as a late vocation; the call came and was answered at the time chosen by Divine Wisdom. In this con-nection it will assist the older seminarian to reflect and meditate upon the role of late vocations in the history of the Church; it is not mere fancy to say that without late vocations the entire history of the Church would assume a different cast and com-plexion. Remove, for instance, the three late vocations of Ambrose, Augustine, and Loyola from the history of the Church and consider the difference the removal would make in the course of the Church's history. Indeed it would seem safe to say that of the confessor saints who lived before modern times, a large part of them, if not the majority, were what are called today late vocations. Having seen the finger of Providence with regard to late vocations in the history of the Church, the older sem-inarian will be able to draw therefrom a greater trust in that same Providence with regard to his own late vocation. 214 Is Religious Disobedience Always a Sin? Joseph J. Farraher, S.J. THE CONSTITUTIONS of most religious institutes state explicitly that they do not bind under pain of s{n, even venial sin, except where the vow of obedience is explicitly invoked, or where they determine the matter of the other vows. Most also state explicitly, or at least imply, that the same holds for orders of superiors. Why then do some spiritual writers imply otherwise? For example, Father Cotel in the Catechism of the Vows, says: One sins against the virtue of obedience when one does not carry out a formal order of a legitimate superior. If an order of a superior only recalls an obligation of rule or a com-mandment of God or of the Church, failure to observe it is not a fault against the special virtue of obedience. Such conduct often involves a sin against another virtue.1 In a footnote he adds: According to very famous theologians (St. Thomas, Suarez and others) a simple act of disobedience does not constitute a sin against the special virtue of obedience, but it contains nearly always one or more sins against other virtues.2 And in a later section, he says: Unless the Constitutions determine otherwise, simple injunctions of superiors, commands which are not. made in virtue of the vow, do not always oblige under pain of sin. If the superior formally commands a particular act not determined by the Constitutions, but in conformity with them, it is our opinion that disobedience is always sinful.:~ Again he adds a footnote: "Some thhologians seem ho~v-ever to admit the contrary:''4 And Father Kirsch in his Spi~'itual Di~'ection of Siste'rs under the heading "Sins against the Virtue of Obedience" says: "A religious offends against the virtue of obedience by disobey- 'Peter Cotel, S.J., and Emile Jombart, S.J., Catechis~n of the Vows (New York: Benziger, 1945), pp. 83-84. ~Ibid. ~Ibid., p. 85. ~Ibid. The Reverend Joseph J. Farraher is stationed at Alma College, Los Gatos, California 215 JOSEPH J', FARRAHER Review for Religious ing without reason, the usual commands, regulations, counsels and wishes of the superiors.''5 How can these statements be reconciled with the explicit statement of the constitutions of most religious institutes that fione of the rules or orders of superiors bind under pain of sin unless they explicitly invoke the vow? First of all, Father Kirsch and Father Cotel's Catechism imply that there could be a sin against the virtue of obedience as distinct from the vow of obedience. In this matter, wh usually think of the Fourth Commandment as commanding obedience to all legitimate superiors. Are not religious superiors legitimate superiors? However, the Fourth Commandment commands us to obey all legitimate superiors according to their authority. For ex-ample, children are obliged to obey their parents in all things, except where there is sin, and except in the choice of a state of life: marriage or the religious life. In this last the parents have no authority, and therefore there is no sin of disobedience if children disobey their parents in their choice of life. What is the source of the authority i~f religious superiors to give commands which would be binding under pain of sin by the virtue of obedience? It is not from the natural law, since religious communities are not natural societies, but rather conventional, that is, they are formed by the mutual agreement of the members. Therefore, if there is authority in religious superiors, it will be according to the form under which the in-stitute was organized. But most modern religious institutes (and even some ancient ones) state in their constitutions that. orders of superiors will bind under pain of sin only when they command explicitly in virtue of the vow of obedience. Therefore, there is here no source of authority to command under pain of sin apart from invoking the vow. But some authors, even when they admit that disobedience would not be a sin against the virtue of obedience (which even Cotel seems grudgingly to admit in a later passage), still insist that it almost always involves a sin against some other virtue.6 This brings up the question, certainly a theoretical one but one with very important practical applications, of whether or not a positive imperfection is a venial sin. By a positive imper-fection is meant the deliberate choice of a less perfect action, 5Felix M. Kirsch, O.F.M.Cap., The Spiritual Direction of Sisters (New York: Benziger, 1930), pp. 483-84. 6Cotel, op. cir., pp. 86-87. 216 J~dy, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE or the deliberate omission of the better action. For example, I realize that it would be better for me to make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament at this. time; but I deliberately decide not to do so, with no question of the alternative being a sin in itself-- perhaps to continue reading a book. Some theologians have held that every such positive imperfection would be a venial sin. They base their argument on the principle that we are obliged to seek our last end in the best way possible. But this contradicts the opinion of the majority of theologians. We are certainly obliged to seek our last end, but not necessarily in the best way possible. And it seems to me that we have a very strong argument from Holy Scripture itself, in several places, that it is not sinful to choose the less perfect. The most explicit example, I think, is in St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians, in the seventh chapter, where he is talking about virginity and marriage. In verses seven and eight, he says: "I would that all men were even as myself [the im-plication is: virginal].; but everyone hath his proper gift from God: one after this manner, and another after that. But I say to the unmarried and. to the widows: it is good for them if they continue, even as I." And later in the same chapter: "Now con-cerning virgins, I have no commandment of the Lord, but I give counsel, as having obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful. I think therefore that this is good for the present necessity : that it is good for a man so to be. Art thou bound to a wife? Seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed from a wife? Seek not a wife. But if thou take a wife, thou hast not sinned. And if a virgin marry, she hath not sinned" (vv. 25ff.). And still a little further on, where St. Paul is talking about a father giving his daughter in marriage: "Therefore, both he that giveth his virgin in marriage doth well: and he that giveth her not doth better" (v. 38). Is not St. Paul saying explicitly here that while it is better to remain virginal, nevertheless it is not a sin to marry? This certainly is the choice between the better and the less good. And he does not qualify it by saying that if one cannot do the better, it is all right to do the less good. He simply gives a comparison: that for the same man, it is better if he does not marry, but it is good if he does, and he does not sin in marrying. So, this is at least one example where deliberately choosing the lesser good is 217 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious not a sin: which proves that the universal statement to the contrary is false. But some adversaries answer: At least to disobey a rule or order of superiors would almost always be a sin because it will involve a bad motive. They give as examples, that it will be done out of laziness or sensuality or human respect. For this, Father Gerald Kelly, S.J., has a good answer in his book on Guidance for Religious (pp. 258-59).7 He is talking about the obligation of daily morning and evening prayers; but, as he himself says, it applies also to the obligation of rules: They would say (i.e., those holding for sin): "Theoretically there is no obligation to pray every day: but in practice there is usually a sin in the omission of these prayers, because when daily prayers are omitted without a sufficient reason this is often due to a small fault of laziness, sensuality, or human respect." This formula, or a somewhat similar one, is sponsored by eminent theologians; and catechists who wish to follow it in explaining the duty of praying are certainly justified in doing so. But I would not recommend it. I find it confusing. It says, on the one hand, that daily prayers are not of obligation, yet on the other, it demands a sufficient reason under pain of sin for omitting them. This seems to beg the entire question; for if there is no obligation to say daily prayers, why should a reason be required under pain of sin for omitting them? As for the statement that failure to say these prayers could be a sin of laziness, it seems to ignore completely the distinction between imperfection and venial sin. [In a footnote at this point, Fr. Kelly admits that those who hold that every positive im-perfection is a venial sin would logically hold this doctrine.] Laziness is not a sin in the strict sense; it is an inordinate disposition or tendency, and it becomes sinful only when it leads to the neglect of some duty binding under pain of sin. In other words, laziness is an imperfection when it induces one to act against a counsel (for instance, to break a rule which does not bind under pain of sin), and it is a sin when it leads one to violate a precept (for instance, to miss Sunday Mass in whole or in part). And what I have said of laziness is similarly true of such things as sensuality and human respect. According to this doctrine of Father Kelly, if a person de-liberately violates a rule or ordination of superiors, because it is easier not to do the thing ordered, for love of comfort, or for laziness, if you want to call it that, it is not a sin. Obviously, to seek comfort is not of itself a sin, or we could not have any cushions, soft beds, pillows, or anything of the kind. A certain amount of comfort is even necessary. The love of comfort there-fore is not wrong in itself; it is wrong only when it leads one to do something that is sinful, or to omit something to which one is bound under pain of sin. To omit something to which one is not bound, because of the love of comfort, is not therefore a sin. 7Westminster: Newman, 1956. 218 July, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE Obviously, if the action one chooses in place of obeying the rule is something sinful in itself, it will be a sin. But the mere fact that it is breaking the rule, will not of itself ever make an action a sin that would not be a sin even if there were no rule. How then does one sin against obedience? Aside from dis-obeying those commands which are given in virtue of the vow of obedience, one can also sin against obedience by formal con-tempt for authority. All the authors agree that this does not mean contempt for the person who holds authority, but formal contempt for authority itself. One can also sin against other virtues in disobeying the rules. Formal contempt for religious life and religious rule in general would be a sin against the virtue of religion. And, as was said before, if there is a really sinful motive in one's action and not ,just a less perfect motive, then there will be a sin; but that is apart from the fact that a rule is being violated. There is a further way in which one might sin by dis-obedience to rules and regulations: if one does it habitually, one might very well be getting into a proximate danger of losing his vocation. For a novice, that would not be sinful, because a novice is not bound to that vocation. But one who has taken perpetual vows is bound for life. Therefore, to endanger the perpetuity of his vows knowingly and willingly could be a sin. Generally speaking, an individual violation of a rule or an order of superiors not invoking the vow of obedience would not be a sin in itself, unless the act is sinful apart: from any violation of the rule. I hope that it is cl,early understood that I am not suggesting that we should violate rules or orders of superiors. Certainly, if we truly want to signalize ourselves in the more perfect following of our Lord, we shall ordinarily do our best to observe all rules and regulations. But our motive should be the love of God, not the fear of sin. But is not the rule the will of God for us? Is it not wrong to go against God's will? It would be wrong to go against the preceptive will of God. But the rule is not the preceptive will of God; it is a counsel, a guidepost or directive to the better way of serving and loving God. And even then the statement must be qualified: ordinarily the rule indicates the better thing to be done. But, as we know, no rule made by a human being can be so perfect that it could not admit of exceptions in extraordinary circumstances. But at least ordinarily, in ordinary circumstances, 219 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious the rule is for us the indication of the better way of serving God. But what about the form of the rules? Some will say that they are in the form of laws and all true laws bind in conscience. Some thelogians, myself included, would not agree that all laws must bind in conscience,s But if such a statement is admitted, then the rules are not laws. Because they do not intend to bind in conscience, regardless of how they are worded. This is clear from the constitutions themelves in stating that they do not bind under pain of sin. So, regardless of their wording, they are meant as mere directives to the more perfect following of Christ. Is there any sense in which they contain an obligation? Yes, I think there is- but not under pain of sin. What does obligation mean ? It seems to be a form of necessity in the moral order. When I say moral order here, I mean not in the physical or metaphysical order, but in the order of human conduct. It is a conditional necessity. If we want to achieve a certain end, we must do this particular thing. When we speak of a moral obli-gation, not simply an obligation in the moral order, but an obligation binding under pain of sin, we mean this: that if we want to achieve our ultimate end, we must do a certain thing. Now, we are obliged to seek our ultimate end, therefore we have an absolute necessity to take the necessary means. But if the end itself is not absolutely necessary, then we have no absolute necessity to take the means. We have only a conditional necessity. If we want this particular end, we must take these means. There are obvious examples of this use of words implying obligation which are certainly outside the realm of sin. For instance, if you are playing bridge and bid two spades, you must take eight tricks. That is an obligation, an obligation not under Pain of sin, but an obligation of the game. If you do not take eight tricks, you will receive a penalty. There is no moral fault in not taking the required number of tricks, nor does the in-flicting of a penalty imply this. But there is a certain necessity to take the eight tricks, if you want to succeed at the game. So also in the moral order : we might speak of the conditions of gaining an indulgence. One must fulfill all the conditions, if one wants to gain the indulgence. But one is not obliged to gain the indulgence. Therefore, one is not obliged absolutely to do these things required for the indulgence. For ihstance, if one sSt. Thomas also holds that counsels are an ordinary part of the law, Summa Theologiae, 1-2, 104, 4. 220 J~dy, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE wishes to say the same prayer, but not fulfill the conditions of the indulgence, he is free to do so. But if one wants to gain the indulgence, one must fulfill the conditions. You can call that a form of obligation, but not under pain of sin. So also with the rules. If we want to follow the more perfect way, we must do what the rule commands. But are we not obliged to seek.the more. perfect way by our profession as religious? No, the religious profession binds us under pain of sin only to those.things which are explicitly vowed, ~vhich are poverty according to the constitutions, chastity in its perfection, including celibacy or virginity, and obedience in those things which are commanded in virtue of the vow. This is a more perfect way of life, and to this much we are strictly obliged under pain of sin. But we are not obliged by the vows to seek the most perfect in everything we do: If we want to be more perfect still, we must follow the rules and regular;ions. But we are not obliged to them under pain of sin. If we so neglect them that we proximately endanger the fulfillment of our vows or their perpetuity, then of course we are sinni.ng,. Are we not obliged under pain of sin at least by the law.of the Church, which in canon 593 says that religious should order their lives in accordance with the rules and constitutions of their own order and so strive for perfection? A Claretian moralist, Father A. Peinador recently proposed this argument.9 But practically all authorities on canon law, including the out-standing Claretian expert on the canon law of religious, Father Goyeneche,1° agree that this canon adds no new obligation, and that, in fact, a religious can sin against the specific obligation of striving for perfection only by contempt, and not even by individual violations of his vows. In spite of Father Peinador's worries, the individuality of each order is still preserved by the fact that the rules and constitutions determine the matter of the vows and further determine the matter in ~vhich superiors can invoke the vow of obedience. Two. other arguments are proposed by Father Peinador in his effort to prove that the rules and constitutions, oblige under pain of sin in spite of his admission, that this is contrary ~"'Obligan o no obligan las reglas?" Vida Religiosa, 16 (1959), 149-52, 216-20. I°Qt~aestio~es Ca~tonicae de Ittre Religiosor~¢~, 2 (Naples: D'Auria, 1955), 8. Cf. also Bouscaren-Ellis, C(t~ton Law (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 285. 221 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious to the wishes of both-their authors and the Church herself. The first is based on the expression, used by St. Thomas and others, that the rules oblige ad poenam: It is true that some authors have interpreted this to mean that, although the rules do not oblige to their immediate object, they do impose an obligation under pain of sin to accept any penance imposed for their viola-tion. Father Peinador thinks that it is absurd to hold that the rules would impose a heavier obligation to accept a penance than to do what is enjoined in the first place. But if it is an absurdity (and I am among those who agree that it is), the conclusion should not be that "therefore the rules oblige under pain of sin," but rather, "therefore there is no obligation under pain of sin to accept a penance imposed by rule or by superiors unless it is imposed in virtue of the vow (as some few are in some con-stitutions), or unless the avoidance of the penance would be a sin for some other reason.''11 Some further explanation may seem required here; but as was hinted above, to discuss the whole question of the obligation of law in general and of purely penal laws in particular, would take too much time and space. Let it suffice for now to point out two briefer answers: either that the constitutions and rules are not truly laws, as Father Peinador himself holds; or, that the expression ad poenam,really means what we would usually indicate by sub poena. This is clear from St. Thomas's use of the expression in opposition to ~d culpam, in English we might translate sub poena (and hence ad poenam as used by St. Thomas) as under threat of penalty, just as we usually translate ad culpam or sub culpa as under pain of sin. Finally, Father Peinador complains that if the rules do not oblige "under pain of sin" (sub culpa), they oblige only "under pain of imperfection" (ba]o imperfecci6n), which to him does not make sense. The expression does sound peculiar; I have never before seen it used. What is usually held is that the violation of a rule is usually an imperfection. I do not think that anyone considers this a threat, as ba]o would seem to imply. It does imply that desire for perfection for love of God rather than fear of sin should be our motive for obeying the rule. If Father Peina-dor means to imply that every positive imperfection is a sin, his objection has already been answered above. l~That this is true of purely penal laws is taught by Vermeersch, I, n. 472, and St. Alphonsus, Theologia moralis, lib. I, n. 145. 222 July, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE To summarize: one would sin against religious obedience only on two scores: by a direct violation of an order given in virtue of the vow, or by formal contempt for authority (admit-tedly a very rare form of sin). Endangering the fulfillment of the vows, or contempt for religious life or constitutions could be a sin against religion. Otherwise, a violation of a rule or regulation will be a sin only if the act would be sinful apart from all idea of disobedience. An example of what might be a sin on the occasion of a violation of a rule would be a violation of silence in sfich a way as to disrupt the common order and to cause real inconvenience and mental suffering to those who are trying to serve God in a more perfect way according to the rule. The principles of what is given above are those taught by practically all theologians, including St. Thomas Aquinas,I~ St. Alphonsus,13 and Suarez.14 The practical application as to how often a violation of a rule may involve a sin for some other reason differs from Suarez, who judges that a violation will almost always involve a venial sin because of a venially sinful motive. In this he is correctly cited in Father Cotel's footnote cited earlier. St. Thomas and St. Alphonsus hold that a violation can and perhaps often does involve a venial sin because of a venially sinful motive. All three agree that no violation of a rule will be a venial sin because it is a violation of a rule, but only if the act would be a sin apart from any violation of the rule. Some who follow Suarez' rather severe judgment of fact are heard at times to say such things as: a violation of the rule of silence almost always (or very frequently) involves a venial sin against charity. That seems a rather severe judgment. If one sincerely held that, he would have to hold that almost all conversation, even during recreation times, involves sins against charity. I would not like to admit that. 1"-'Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 9, for the rule; 104, 5, for orders of superiors; 186, 3, on the obligation to perfection. ~'~Theologi~ moralis, lib. IV, n. 38, for the rule; n. 42 for orders of superiors.In both places he simply gives the text of Busenbaum without further comment. ~4De religione, tract. 8, lib. 1, "De obligationibus religiosorum . . . ," cap. IV, nn. 12-13. 223 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER In a'll this we must always remember that the chief motive for embracing religious life should be the more perfect serving of God, and that love of God, not fear of sin, should lead all religious ordinarily to follow all rules and regulations of superiors.15. -. l~Father Rene Carpentier, S.J., in his Life in the City of God (New York: Benziger, 1959), ~vhich according to the title-page is "a completely recast edition, of A Catcchis~t of the Vows," emphasizes the motive of love throughout the book. He also states the obligations of religious obedience under pain of sin, pp. 158-63, much more in the manner outlined in this article. 224 The Problem of Transition for the Junior Sister Sister Mary Magdalen, OoP. In a narrow circle the mind contracts; Man grows with his expanded needs.I THESE WORDS of the eighteenth-century poet apply to any of us at any one stage of our lives; and we who have the rich treasury of the Church always at our disposal must, indeed, blush if our needs do not precipitate that growth which "enriches the harvest o~ charity so that [we] will have abun-dant means of every kind for all that generosity which gives proof of our gratitude toward G6d" (2 Cor 9:10-11). At certain times in our life of grace we reach a plane where a marked change or growth takes place, from which we emerge with new attitudes, firmer convictions to reach for higher alti-tudes. We are not "that which we have been.''2 We have expe-rienced a transition, a "development or evolution from one clearly-defined stage to another"; a "changing from an earlier to a later form with the blending of old and new features"; a building-up which enhances and brings to completion the foun-dation already laid. Such transitions we will experience often enough as we go life's journey; one such is the particular aim of the juniorate period, following the novitiate formation in religious houses. The areas of sensitivity in this development are not difficult to ascertain as we watch the junior sister try to find her place in professed life. She must adapt herself to a more intensive study program, to a more mature assuming of responsibility under obedience, to new social relations that include some secular contacts, to a wider range of age levels and interests in her own religious family. She finds herself being urged toward develop-ing her individuality, yet toward a more virile obedience ; toward creativity, yet toward a zealous dedication to the common life; 1Schiller, Prologues, 1.59. :Byron, Childe Harold, Canto 4, stanza 185. Sister Mary Magdalen is Mistress of Jt~niors at St. Catherine's Convent, Racine, Wisconsin. 225 SISTER ~/~ARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious she is confused in her new environment of "thinking for your-self" and "thinking with the community." Above all, she is not a little appalled by the large issue of resolving~everything within her obligation to grow daily in the love of God, a duty she freely assumed ~with her vows. "How," she asks, bewildered, "do I harmonize it all?" It becomes the task of the junior mistress, then, and of all who deal with the juniors, to analyze the situation, to provide gradually the helps they need to adapt, to take root, and to grow. Since the juniorate provides an intensive study program, what transition will be involved here? Perhaps this is the place, if it has not been previously achieved, to give a clearer under-standing of a truly integrated liberal arts program and the end toward which it aims. We find that though this has been dis-cussed from the postulant's beginning year, the junior sister, probably entering her junior academic year in college, will now be more ready to appreciate such a program. Study is much more the dominant activity of her day than in the earlier years when the novelty of the life, novitiate formation, absence of stability of profession--all militated somewhat against an inten-sive concentrated life of study. Indeed, it may even be somewhat of a problem to convince all junior sisters of the proportionate importance of study in their lives. To sound this note last August we prepared a sym-posium and informal discussion before college classes began on: "The Place of Study in Religious Life." The outline used follows at the end of this paper. Since at this time some of the young sisters still need help with the self-discipline of study, a candid reporting and dis-cussion of these difficulties individually with the mistress offers a helpful way to arouse the sincere desire and effort to establish the habit. Study time must, of course, be provided, and the course load be kept within limits, credit-wise. Long periods of study from two to three hours, at least sometimes, are a real necessity. Along with developing an attitude toward study, these are the years during which to build an attitude toward a habit of broad and well-chosen reading. The young sister must be helped in this by providing the right reading matter, by dis-cussion and motivation toward the choice she will be required to make. The sister must be shown that the need for a profes-sional woman is to keep well-informed on current trends, cul-tural, economic, scientific, to know the mind of the Church on 226 July, 1960 THE JUNIOR SISTER controversial matters, to discuss opinions intelligently (first, to have some), and to choose books that will broaden her ability to evaluate literature, history, the arts, and contemporary move-ments. Here the college instructors must be interested, as, indeed, we find them to be. The Directed Readings courses in the various fields of concentration challenge the sisters to a critical evalua-tion of works ranging through Plato, Aristotle, and Longinus to Tawney's Religion and the Rise of Capitalism, Karl Marx's Kapital, Veblen's Theory of the Leisure Class, works of Newman, Maritain, Hemingway, and Riesman. This practice in seeing'rela-tion of parts to a whole, in evaluation, and in individual and group critical thinking is a facility that can be used by way of transition in attitudes toward religious life. At a recent Chicago meeting of the AHE (Association for Higher Education) the emphasis in a sectional discussion centered on the need for a right conformity along with creativity in thinking and adting. Mr. Kenneth Little of the University of Wisconsin, quoting St. Augustine, reminded the educators present that "the best indi-viduality will ultimately lead to a slavery to God." The whole trend of thinking was that basic disciplines in the classical tradi-tions alone will prepare the mind to develop its own freedom in thinking on contemporary issues and problems. Conformity, rightly understood, and creativity must be seen to be comple-mentary rather than incompatible. The thoughtful junior sister will soon transfer this understanding to' her life of obedience and the development of her own personality. The principles of integration found in the curriculum will take on a new meaning for the sister student at this level. She will begin to relate her biological and physical sciences to the philosophical concepts at her disposal, and her theology, besides becoming a stronger personal defense in her religious life, will serve as a norm to which each discipline will look, while retain-ing its individual distinction as a science. Literature will become a laboratory in which human problems are tested and tried but never completely solved and from which vision .will often arise; contemporary changes on the technological, political, economic scene will prove a challenge, fitting themselves into place in human history, posing questions for the present, challenges for the immediate future. From these understandings and attitudes we can help the young sister in her personal problem of living her vows. From conformity and individuality in analyzing literature, art; and 227 SISTER MARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious history, we can lead her to a clearer appreciation of the en-nobling power of obedience, of her duty to expand her talents, to enrich her personality, and to strengthen her character. She can find her penance in the long hours of severe mental and physical discipline demanded by study; she can direct this pen-ance by her will to love ; she will find her reward both in growth in grace and in love of learning. Father Gustave Weigel, S.J., puts it thus: "Esteem for scholarship will not be produced by legislation or even construction of programs. It is a matter of creative love. To love you must be acquainted. To look for new acquaintances, there must be dissatisfaction with what is at hand.'''~ This dissatisfaction will prompt her to forge ahead in both her intellectual and her supernatural life, for we must help her constantly to see these as one. When to interpret for herself, when to seek advice, when the letter, when the spirit of the law--these knowledges must come to her somewhat through experience, even, as to all of us, through trial and error. No-where will she find the standard rule, the "capsuled" formula, though she will eagerly seek it. We can instruct with examples, but we must also leave room for failure, that necessary human-izing experience from which we as a people shrink. The junior sister must be encouraged to think out her own problems, to do some interpreting of emergency situations, to come out with the wrong answer and face her own mistake. She must be helped through this to the courage to start over, to smile through difficulties, to laugh at herself at times. Many of these understandings and developed appreciations of her religious life, then, will be incidental, casual, imbibed along with her daily living. A formal program of instruction, is, of course, necessary also. We have found the third part of Father McElhone, C.S.C.'s, Spirituality for Postulate, No~)itiate, Scholasticatea an excellent and practical guide for weekly instruc-tions. It lends itelf to natural deviations as the needs of the group demand. The divisions are: Sacrifice, Charity, Humility, Offense to God, Love of God, Accusation of Faults and Sins, Security of Rules and Vows, Temptation, Identification with Christ, Communion, Authority, The Trinity, Eternal Life. The material will easily spread itself over a two-year period. In covering "Sacrifice" we spent some weeks discussing sacrifice 3Gustave Weigel, S.J., "American Catholic Intellectualism," Review Politics, 19 (July, 1957), 275-307. 4Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1955. 228 July, 1960 THE JUNIOR SISTER and renewing our undertanding and appreciation of the Mass, concentrating especially on My Mass by Joseph Putz, S.J.5 Then the virtues of sacrifice, humility, and charity were studied as they w~re portrayed in the lives of our Dominican Saints and our foundress, Mother Benedicta Bauer, O.P. This carried us through the first semester. "Offense to God" and "Accusation of Faults and Sins" we combined in a study of the use of the sacrament of penance, of general and particular examen of ~onscience, and the relation of these to meditation and recol-lection. Our object here was to challenge the sister to see these aspects of her religious growth as a unit, to help her approach her subject of particular examen positively, through the practice of recollection, through harmonizing it .when possible with meditation and mental prayer, with her efforts at self-knowledge. This is to militate against the discouragement commonly ex-pressed by the young sister: "If I make a resolution after meditation, one in my particular examen, one after confession, if I try to concentrate on something quite different during silence by way of recollection, where do I end?--in confusion!" We make an effort, then to "integrate" here, though admittedly it is uphill work, one which is only begun, since it involves patient waiting for the Holy Spirit. Meanwhile we show the importan'ce of constantly striving anew, of making consistent efforts at particular examen, recollection, and mental prayer, cardinal points on which ultimate success hinges. One can help the sister here, individually again; but the approach to the individual conference should put the burden of effort, at least apparently, on the sister herself. Does she need help? Does she want help? Let her go on from there. In still another sphere, we find the junior sister facing a transition--that of adjusting to secular companions in some of her classes and to a more mature group of sisters. We believe in having the juniors mix with the other professed. While we do have provisions for separate recreations, our junior sisters have free contact with all the sisters and join them in many of their recreations. This is an idea] situation for their better under-standing of the older s~sters, for a new relationship with their college teachers. It gives them an insight into the life and valuable services of our nurses and domestic sisters. There are opportunities to observe and test their own youthful impru- ~Westminster: Newman, 1958. 229 SISTER MARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious dences; to visit the sick and read to them; to share experiences with sisters who are not engaged in the schools; to get a better picture of the personnel needed to do all of the community's work. In the classroom situation, too, ihey meet secular students. They are sometimes confronted with unexpected competition, with views, outlooks, examples which alert them to problems of a world from which they are otherwise easily removed. They are challenged at making small decisions as to conversation, explanation, to a sense of poise and graciousness expected of them, to a loyalty to their community, experienced in practice for the first time. We might ask, now, besides the religious instruction and individual counselling, what other approaches can be t~sed to help the juniors in these important transitions? Here, more than ever before in the formation period, must we help her to help herself. An effective and appealing method to face and penetrate mutual problems is the group discussion--in any form. We mentioned earlier an orientation-to-school discussion on "The Place of Study in the Religious Life." The topic was broken down thus : I. Definition of Terms. II. St. Thomas and Study. The virtue of studiousness. a. What it is. b. What it is not. III. Study and the Religious Life. a. Purpose. b. Integration. IV. Practical Considerations. a. Attitudes: . b. Motives. c. Advantages. V. The Apostolate and Study. a. Need for preparation. b. Responsibility of an "apostle." The sisters admitted to a new alertness in the importance of the role of study in their lives. We feel it convinced them that study was truly the chief duty of their state for the time being. Another topic for discussion suggested by the young sisters themselves later in the year as representing a direct need was: "Practical Aspects of Poverty." Our approach this time: Each 230 Ju~, 1960 THE ,.]'UNIOR SISTER sister was asked to submit a question of her own on the subject. These were classified and duplicated so that all might consider, discuss, investigate, and mull over in informal conversation before the final discussion. Other discussions fruitful in broad-ening and stabilizing the sisters' views were centered on "Criti-cism and Censorship in Art and Literature," and on two rather controversial lectures delivered by Ashley Montagu and Vance Packard respectively. We hold, also, weekly, an informal dis-cussion of the Sunday Gospel with the question in mind: "What is Christ telling or asking of us in these words of His?" Quite frequently the discussion leads to a healthy "housecleaning" on points of courtesy, rule, and schedule, and to a group resolution, spontaneously arrived at. Summarily, if the atmosphere of the juniorate and of the sister's entire environment is one of mutual generosity and sin-cere desire to help them make the most of this valuable time, if they are encouraged in the virtues of honesty, candor, and justice, if they are helped to.appreciate somewhat the challenge of the complexities of life, no matter where it is lived, the efforts of all involved will be greatly repaid. We can, then, app~:oach this transition period with the junior sister, aware of the challenge, alert to the possibilities for development, humbly confident that "according to the grace that is given us" (Rom 5:2) we can help .her grow up toward her full stature in Christ. 231 Survey of Roman Documents R. I~. Smith, S.J. IN THIS ARTICLE a summary will be given of the documents that appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during January, February, and March, 1960. All references throughout the survey will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 52). The Christmas Message The 1959 Christmas message (pp. 27-35) was devoted by John XXIII to the subject of peace. The first and most important part of the message was concerned with three types of peace and the conditions under which each type can exist, l~eace, His Holiness said, is first of all peace of heart, an interior state of the spirit of each individual. The condition for this kind of peace, he added, is a loving and filial dependence on the will of God. The Second type of peace considered by the Holy Father was social peace, harmony within nations. This peace, he stated, must be based on a deep respect for the personal dignity of each man. ~Christ's incarnation and redemption, he continued, has dignified not only the human race, but each individual of the race. For if He has so loved the individual as to give Himself for him (Gal 2:20), then each man deserves to be given an absolute respect. This attitude is fundamental to all the Church's social teaching, according to which wealth, economy,, and the state are for man, and not man for them. The internal peace of nations, he warned, is threatened by treating men as mere instruments, simple means of production. Contrariwise only by recognizing the dignity of man will a natioa be able to dissolve civil discord. The Vicar of Christ then discussed the third type of peace, inter-national peace. The basis for this peace according to the Pope's message ¯ is truth. The Christian saying that the truth will make men free is also valid on the level of international relations. Hence in the pursuit of peace on the international level, force, nationalism, and the like must be sur-passed; and attempts towards peace must be based on rational and Christian moral principles. From truth, he added, proceeds justice; and justice in turn must be sustained by Christian charity which by its nature embraces all men. Then only will there be a real international life and not merely a coexistence. In the second part of the message the Holy Father pointed out errors b~eing made today by those who are striving to bring peace to the world. Peace, he said in this connection, is indivisible; hence it must be present in all its elements. Accordingly social and international peace are impossible without peace of heart. For true peace men must first of all 232 ROMAN DOCUMENTS be "men of good will." Hence the first step towards peace must be to remove the moral obstacles to it, especially in view of the present dis-equilibrium between scientific progress and moral progress. In the third part of the message the Pope spoke of the work of the Church for peace. He pointed out that she prays for peace; moreover she uses all her means, especially the treasures of her doctrine, to produce peace. It is indeed in and through her doctrine that she has been able to formulate the leading causes of modern international disturbance. These causes are the following: violations of the human person, of the family, and of labor; a disregard of the true and Christian idea of the state; the deprivation of the liberty of other nations; the systematic oppression of the cultural and linguistic characteristics of national minorities; a selfish use of economic resources to the damage and injury of other nations; and the persecution of religion and of the Church. In the fourth and final part of the message John XXIII called on all Catholics to be active in the work for peace and to be conscious of the fact that they have a command from on high for such activity. He then expressed his best wishes to all men especially the poor, the humble, and the suffering. The Consistories On December 14 and December 17, 1959 (pp. 5-24), the Pontiff held three consistories for the creation of eight new cardinals. In the first consistory, which was a secret one, the Pope delivered an allocution in which he stated that his choice of the new cardinals had been governed by a desire to show forth not only the unity of the Church but her univer-sality as well. The rest of his allocution was concerned with a summary of the principal events in the preceding year of his pontificate. Thereafter there took place the creation of the new cardinals; Cardinals Cicognani and Copello changed their cardinalatial churches; appointments to the hierarchy since the last consistory were read out; and the consistory closed with the postulation of the pallium b y newly appointed archbishops. In the second and public consistory the Holy Father imposed the red hat on the new cardinals. In the third consistory, which again was a secret one, the latest appointments to the hierarchy were announced and cardinalatial churches were assigned to the new members of the Sacred College. To the Laity On January 10, 1960 (pp. 83-90), His Holiness addressed an allocution to members of Catholic Action of the diocese of Rome. In the first part of the allocution the Pontiff detailed his long interest in Catholic Action, remarking that he has been actively associated with it since the year 1922. He also expressed his utmost confidence in Catholic Action for the future. In the second part of the allocution the Vicar of Christ developed some of the characteristics of Catholic Action. He told his listeners that Catholic Action was first of all a help to the clergy, as its classic definition 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious as the collaboration of the laity in the a~ostolate of the hierarchy shows. The work of Catholic Action, he pointed out, is an effort towards the ful-fillment of that part of the Our Father which reads,."Thy kingdom come." This work of the laity began already in ~he time of the apbstles; it was in this time too that the principle was laid down that nothing should be done without the bishop. The work of Catholic Action, however, can never be achieved without a solid spiritual formation of the individual member. Hence he exhorted his listeners to a life of habitual prayer accompanied by a deep liturgical spirit and a profound sense of the Church. Catholic Action, the Pope continued, is also a spectacle of disciplined unity. The unity of the Church, he said, has an irresistible attractiveness for men. Accordingly Catholic Action must be and appear an organization of union and concord; and this harmony must be shown simultaneously on the level of ideas, of plans, and of execution. Finally the Pontiff said that Catholic Action must be a luminous sign for modern times; it must be the angel in Apoc 14:6 wl~ich carried aloft the eternal gospel. Catholic Action will be. such a sign by defending the fundamental principles of Christian social order, by safeguarding the rights of man, and by validating the things that constitute man's dignity, his liberty, and his inalienable rights. The subject of education was also treated by the Pope in another written message of January 10, 1960 (pp. 100-103). This message was directed to the Interamerican Congress of Catholic Education held at Ciudad de San Josg in Costa Rica. In the message he told the congress that every true and deep education is the work of grace; hence the chief work of the educator is to cooperate with that grace. In order that an adolescent will persevere in the spiritual life given to him by the school, it is necessary, said the Pope, that the school develop in the child a spirit of initiative and an atmo~sphere of spontaneity and sincerity. Moreover, religious training must be directed not only to the intellect but to the will and heart as well. Furthermore, the Pontiff continued, religious culture should parallel the youth's growth in literary and scientific matters. Finally, religiou~ training should prepare the youth for his future family~ civic, and professional responsibilities; it should also provide him with an exercise of the apostolate and of charity. On November 25, 1959 (pp. 54-55), John XXIII directed a written message to the International Federation of Catholic Youth, meeting in Buenos Aires. Among ~other pieces of advice to them, the Vicar of Christ urged them to a great love and respect for their priests and chaplains, telling them that it is these priests who will open to them the sources of Christian doctrine, imbue them with the spirit of sacrifice and self-mastery, and lead them to a generous life of prayer and self-giving. A written message of December 8, 1959 (pp. 96-98), was directed by the Vicar of Christ to the meeting of Pax Romana held in Manila and devoted to the theme of the social responsibility of the student and the intellectual. He told the group that they should be proud of having been. chosen by 234 July, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Christ to be His witnesses even to the ends of the world. They must, he wrote, make themselves worthy of their call by living a profoundly Christian life; and they must endeavor to gain the respect of their col-leagues by their professional and moral competence. He also bade them to direct their studies to the Church's social doctrine, since the countries of Asia are now in a period of rapid economic growth. Finally he urged them to translate the message of Christian truth into forms appropriate to the Oriental soul. On February 9, 1960 (pp. 158-60), the Holy Father sent a written message to the school children of the United States asking them to pray for the needy children of other lands that they may be kept free from sin and have the strength to overcome temptation. He also asked them to be generous in contributing gifts, clothes, and money to such children. On December 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 45-50), His Holiness addressed a group of Italian Catholic lawyers. Since the group had previously dis-cussed the subject of freedom of the press, it was this subject that the Pontiff considered in his allocution to them. He disclosed to his listeners his grave anxiety over much that is being printed today and its effects on the young and the innocent. In the matter.of the liberty of the press, he continued, it is always.necessary to have a clear conscience as well as one that is balanced, not insensitive, and not lax. The right to truth, he said, and the right to an objective morality based on the permanence of divine law is anterior and superior to every other right and need. Accord~ ingly there are necessary limitations to the freedom of the press and these limitations are found especially in matters that may do violence to the innocence of the child and the adolescent. Is it ever licit, he asked his listeners, to make a criminal deed the occasion of description and narration that are nothing else than a school of sin and an incentive to vice? In this area, the Pope insisted, the limitations of the press must be rigorously defined; and he called on his audience to study the matter carefully. He also told the lawyers that they should not fea~ to reprove the press and should endeavor to subject it to a human, civil, and Christian discipline. They should especially see to it that the press does not violate fundamental human rights. It would, he concluded, be the legalization of license, if the press were fred to subvert the r.eligious and moral foundations of the people. On December 30, 1959 (pp. 57-59), the Holy Father sent a written message to a meeting at Utrecht of the International Office of Catholic Education; the meeting had been called to commemorate the thirtieth anniversary of Pius XI's encyclical on education, Divini illius Magistri. The encyclical, the Pope told the group, has lost none of its truth; today as then the Church still declares the rights of herself and of the family in regard to education to be anterior to those of the state in the same matter. He also mentioned that since at the present moment national and international authorities are anxious about the intellectual and moral elevation of the human race, it is now more important than ever to have active members of the Church who are ready to explain and defend 235 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the Church's point of view. They should also strive to adapt the principles of the encyclical to the new situations that have arisen since its publica-tion; and on the personal level they should strive to become the profes-sional and moral elite which the world and the Church need. Miscellaneous Documents On December 18, 1959 (pp. 166-69), the Sacred Congregation of Rites officially affirmed the heroicity of the virtues of the Servant of God, Elizabeth Ann Seton (1774-1821). On February 17,' 1960 (pp. 91-94), the Pope delivered an allocution at the solemn obsequies h~ld for Cardinal Stepinac in St. Peter's, telling the congregation that the deceased cardinal gave a modern example of Christ's words that a true pastor gives his life for his flock. By the Apostolic Letter, Maiora in dies, dated December 8, 1959 (pp. 24-26), the International Marian Academy was made a Pontifical Academy. On February 17, 1960 (pp. 152-58), the Pope delivered an allocution to the faculty and student body of the Pontifical Biblical Institute on the fiftieth anniversary of its foundation. After recalling the Institute's work and success during the last fifty years, he told the Institute to look forward to the future. He urged them to a life of scientific serious-ness which would employ all modern means of investigation and work and which would have the courage to face the problems aroused by recent research and discoveries. Their work, however, should also be characterized by prudence and sobriety, so that they do not propose as definitive that which is only a working hypothesis. He pointed out to the Institute and its members that their work was not merely to form Biblical specialists, but also men who are filled with sacredotal zeal and who brave the souls of prophets and apostles. The work of the Institute, therefore, is a truly priestly work. In all their work they must also have an absolute fidelity to the deposit of faith and to the teaching authority of the Church. Finally in their efforts to understand the pages of Scripture," they must recall the advice of St. Augustine: "Pray in order that you may understand." On December 6, 1959 (pp. 51-52), the Pontiff broadcast a message to the faithful of the Philippines at the beginning of their national mission year. On December 13, 1959 (pp. 52-53), the Pope sent a radio message to the people of Ecuador on the occasion of their presentation of a crown to a statue of our Lady of the Rosary. On January 1, 1960 (pp. 98-100), he sent a written message to the people of Nicaragua on the occasion of the nation's consecration to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. On January 22, 1960 (pp. 90-91), John XXIII addressed an allocution to Konrad Adenauer, Chancellor of Germany, and on February 22, 1960 (pp. 95-96), to President Manuel Prado of Peru. Under the date of December 22, 1959 (pp. 61-62), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued the text of a prayer composed by the Pope to be recited by members of newly-founded churches. Faithful of such churches can gain an indulgence of three years each time they recite the prayer devoutly and with contrite heart. Moreover once a month they 236 July, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer daily for a month. 0n.December 14, 1959 (p. 105), the Sacred Consistorial Congregation named Cardinal Caggiano, archbishop of Buenos Aires, as military vicar of Argentina. A decree of the same congregation dated December 29, 1959 (pp. 164-65), provided for the continuation of ecclesiastical jurisdiction in the military vicariate of Colombia when the office of military vicar becomes vacant; it also assigned the proper tribunals for ecclesiastical cases of the same military vicariate. In a decree of January 5, 1960 (p. 60), the Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office placed the follow-ing anonymous volumes on the Index: Il Poema di Gesu and Il Poema dell'UomooDio (Isola del Liri: Tipografia M. Pisani). Views, News, Previews Institute Jesus Magister Brother Cecilius, S.C., who is presently stationed in Rome at the Generalate of the Brothers of the Sacred Heart, has sent the REVIEW information concerning the Institute Jesus Magister (Jesus the Teacher). The Institute, .which is now an integral part of the Lateran University, was founded by Pins XII with the purpose of providing for the intellec-tual, cultural, and religious development of teaching brothers. The foundation of' the Institute was announced in the summer of 1957; in the fall of the same year the Institute held its first academic courses°. Accordingly the academic year 1959-1960 was only the third in the history of the Institute. The president of the Institute is the rector of the Lateran" Univer-sity, who at present is Msgr. Antonio Piolanti. The vice-president and director of Jesus Magister is BrotKer Anselmo, F,S.C. The faculty for the academic year 1959-1960 was composed of twenty-six professors, nine of whom were diocesan priests, eleven were .religious 'priests, and six were brothers. During the same year ninety-five brothers attended the Institute. The brothers in attendance came from twenty-three countries and from nine different religious institutes as the following tables show: 237 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious Countries Represented Among the Students of Jesus Magister Number of Number of Country Students Country Students Canada 13 Mexico 3 U.S.A. 11 Chile 2 Spain 10 Nicaragua 2 Italy 9 Peru 2 Brasil 8 Ruanda 2 Australia 5 Cuba 1 France 5 Ecuador 1 Eire 5 Malay 1 Argentina 4 Portugal 1 England 4 South Africa 1 Colombia 3 Venezuela 1 Vietnam 1 Religious Institutes Among Students of Jesus Magister Institute Number of Students Brothers of Christian Schools 38 Marist Brothers 26 (Irish) Christian Brothers 11 Brothers of the Sacred Heart 7 Brothers of Mary (Marianists) 4 Brothers of Christian Instruction (Ploemel) 3 Xaverian Brothers 2 Brothers of Christian Instruction of St. Gabriel 2 Josephite Brothers of Ruanda 2 From the tables it can be seen that besides the intellectual development imparted to them by the Institute, the brothers also profit by contact with fellow brothers of other countries and institutes. At the present time the. Institute offers a four-year course. The first year of the course is chiefly devoted to Thomistic philosophy and fundamental theology; the last three years are concerned principally with dogmatic and moral theology, Sacred Scripture, ecclesiastical history, and catechetics. The courses are presently given in both English and French; other languages will be added as the need arises. At the end of two years of the course, the students are made bachelors in re-ligious sciences; and at the successful completion of the entire four-year program they are given a licentiate in religious sciences. There i~ a possibility that, as the Institute grows, an additional program leading to a doctorate in religious sciences will be added. Brothers interested in studying at the Institute must have a degree which permits them to enter a graduate faculty or a university of their own country. Moreover they are expected to have a sufficient reading knowledge of Latin to be able to handle the texts necessary for their 238 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS studies in the Institute; such texts, for example, would be the Vulgate, the works of St. Thomas, and the code of canon law. The candidate must also make a written application for admission into the Institute; with the application he must include a birth and a baptismal certificate, copies of degrees held, written authorization of his major superior, and two photographs (passport size). Auditors, that is, students not studying for a degree, are also admitted with the permission of their superiors. Finally laymen who are engaged in teaching religion on the primary or secondary level are admitted, provided they 'have the necessary quali-fications for the Institute's program. Persons interested in the Institute can obtain more information about it by writing: Ill.mus Fr. Anselmo Balocco, F.SoC. Instituto Jesus Magister Pontificia Universith Laterano Piazza S. Giovanni in Laterano, 4 Rome, Italy Christ to the World Founded three years ago, this "International Review of Apostolic Experiences" has spread to 125.countries and is contributing in a very efficacious way to the work of the apostolate among unbelievers. The aim of the review is to promote the apostolate in pagan and dechris-tianized environments by pooling apostolic experiences and making known the most fruitful apostolic efforts undertaken throughout the world. In presenting these experiences, the review stresses the method followed, the means used, the difficulties encountered and how they were overcome, the results obtained and the lessons drawn from the experience which will prevent future repetitions of the same mistakes. A sample copy of an issue dealing with the problems one indicates interest in will be sent on request by Reverend L. P. Bourassa, Circulation Manager, Christ to the World, Lungotevere dei Vallati, 1, Roma. Brothers' Newsletter: Menus and Recipes The Brothers' Newsletter reported in its November issue that Brother Herman Zaccarelli, C.S.C., has published a book on menu-planning and recipes for Catholic institutions. This is the first book ever to be written taking into account the specialized food problems of the vow of poverty, feasts, and fasts of the Church year. In the summer of 1960, Brother plans to direct the first school of culinary arts for religious at Stonehill College, North Easton, Massachusetts. He hopes to build this summer course up to a regular three-year program. For his work on the book, Brother received grants from several food com-panies serving Catholic institutions. 239 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religion,s The interesting facts and events relating to the life and training of brothers which the Newsletter contains are available without subscrip-tion fee. Write to Brother William Haas, S.J., West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, or to Brother Walter, S.V.D., Divine Word Seminary, Techny, Illinois. )uestions ond Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., pro-fessor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] 24. I was teaching a summer course to sisters from several congregations. Canonical questions on the religious life occasionally arose. One sister told me that her constitutions state that a parish convent cannot be a canonically erected religious house because at the commencement of the scholastic year the community of such a house may be composed of new members. Another sister stated that in her congregation all houses of less than four sisters are filial houses, those of four or more are canon-ically erected houses. Difficulties on obedience, according to this sister, arise in filial houses because of the fact that the one at the head of a filial house is not a real superior. To avoid this, higher superiors strive to have all houses canonically erected; and they believe that this is accomplished by the mere fact of assigning at least four religious to a house. They also believe that the'sole fact of assigning three or less sisters to a house makes it filial. My reply to both sisters was in the negative. Was I correct? A canonically erected religious house, because it is a moral person, can cease only by suppression or extinction. A moral person in the Church is of its nature perpetual. If only one member remains in it, all rights of the moral person devolve on him. A moral person and therefore a religious house becomes extinct only when it has ceased to exist, that is, has had no members, for a hundred years (c. 102)'. As a collegiate moral person, a canonically erected house must consist of at least three religious at the time of its erection. Since a moral person is of its nature perpetual, it is evident that the continued existence of a religious house does not depend on the permanent residence. 5f the religious who originally constituted the community. These may constantly change, as they do in other moral persons, for example, an institute or province. The same juridical perpetuity proves that a religious house continues to exist as such if the number of religious assigned to it after its erection becomes less than three. The superior of such a reduced religious house remains a superior in the proper sense of the word, Since he is a superior of a canonically erected house. A higher superior cannot change a canonically erected house into a filial house merely by assigning less religious to it (cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 3 [1922], 48, note 176). This 240 July, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS change demands an extinction or the formalities of a suppression and the permission to open a filial house. Neither may he change a filial house into a canonically erected house merely by assigning more religious to it. This change requires the formalities for the canonical erection of a house. Goyeneche (Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 115) anal Jone (Com-mentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 404) deny that such formalities are necessary in this case. They maintain that the change of a filial into a canonically erected house is a mere internal change and conse-quently demands no permission of external authority (cf. Question .17). But such a change certainly and evidently implies the erection 5f a moral person. Canon 497 does not grant the right of erecting a moral person, solely on their own authority, to the superiors of any religious institute. The law on internal and external changes presupposes an existing moral person and its purpose is to determine whether the change has so altered this existing moral person as to make it a different moral person. In the opinion of Goyeneche and Jone, an exempt in-stitute could open a filial house with th.e permission of only the local ordinary; and then, merely at the will of its superiors, with no further permission of the ordinary and no permission whatever of the Holy See, could canonically erect an exempt religious house. But canon 497, § 1, demands the permission of the Holy See for the canonical erection of any exempt religious house. A house becomes a new moral person when it undergoes a formal external change (Question 18) or is moved to such a distance (Question 19) that the formalities of a new erection are necessary and are obtained. It need not be mentioned that religious owe the same reverence and submission to delegated as to ordinary authority. The ultimate source of the authority is the same and the motive of religious obedience is the same in both cases. 25. If we are able to suppress the religious house mentioned in Question 23, to whom does the property of the suppressed house belong? Unless the particular constitutions contain a different enactment, the property of a suppressed or extinct house appertains to the im-mediately higher moral person, that is, to the province or, if there are no provinces, to the institute (c. 1501). The property of a sup-pressed or extinct separated establishment already appertains to the house to which it is attached. All obligations of justice, all rights ac-quired by others, and the intentions of founders and donors are to be respected and observed. 26. Are parish school convents of sisters in fact ~anonically erected or merely filial houses? It is presupposed that the house had the antecedent requisites for a canoncially erected house at the time of its erection (cf. Question 3). If so, such convents are canonically erected religious houses unless the 241 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious explicit or implicit intention of the local ordinary in particular cases was merely for a filial house (cf. Questions 11-13). This follows from the fact that such convents are only exceptionally filial houses. Parish convents are termed houses in approved constitutions equally with other canonically erected houses, for example, academies, colleges, and hospitals. Their superiors are in the same way superiors in the proper sense of this word, and not mere delegates of a higher superior or another local superior. Their superiors are held to the limit of the three-year term and to two such consecutive terms in the samehouse (c. 505). These same superiors are also equally ex officio members of the provincial or general chapter. Parish convents have their own councilors and bursar or treasurer, and these are proper to canonically erected houses (c. 516, §§ 1-2; cf. Question 6). Furthermore, some constitutions make this general sense clear by stating that only the smaller houses of two or three sisters are to be filial houses (cf. Question 6). It is true that a moral person, by the positive law of the Church, should be perpetual (c. 102, § 1); but the sense is that it may not be erected for a definite time, for example, five years. It is perpetual in the sense of the law when it is erected for an indefinite time (cf. Michiels, Principia Gen-eralia de Personis in Ecclesia, 535). The particular constitutions may add requisites for a canonically erected house. If so, the petitioning of the consent for the establishment of houses is made according to such norms and the houses are canonically erected or filial according to the same norms. 27. What do you think of the enactment of our constitutions that the portress should every night carry the keys of the convent to the superioress? This enactment was contained in article 319 of the Normae of 1901, on which the constitutions of practically all lay congregations are based. However, it was not repeated in the similar norms of the Sacred Con-gregation of the Propagation of the .Faith of 1940, nor is it by any means contained in all constitutions. In some convents, the superior would be the nocturnal custodian of a sufficient number of keys. The efficiency and practicality of this practice are at once questionable. Its necessity is equally doubtful. I personally have never heard of any alarming number of attempts to break into convents at night. The doors should be securely locked at night, but it is not the custom in the United States to use locks that can be operated only by a key from inside. We may also question whether this type of lock is more secure, and a door is not the only means of entrance favored by burglars. The principal objection against the practice is the danger of fire and the fire regulations. To repeat what we have already stated on two occasions: "All doors used in connection with exits shall be so arranged as to be always readily opened from the side from which egress is made. Locks, if provided, shall not require a key to operate from the inside. Latches or other re-leasing devices to open doors shall be of simple types, the method of 242 July, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS operation of which is obvious even in darkness" (REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, 15 [1956], 284-85; 18 [1959], 165). It seems evident that all doors leading to the outside should be capable of being used as exits in case of fire; and an exit door locked from the inside, with the key in the superior's room, is a fire hazard of the first order. II. Local Superiors 28. Is a minimum age prescribed for local superiors? Every canonically erected religious house must have a local superior in the proper sense of this term. The prescriptions of canon 505 on the term of office and reappointment affect only minor local superiors. A minor local super

Issue 9.3 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; Review for Religious MAY 15, 1950 E~es Right? ~ ~ichard Leo Heppler~ C:onformity wffh Christ C;.A. Herbst the Holy Ghost ° '" Leo A. Coressel Psychometrics and R.~ligious I~i~e ¯ ¯ ¯ ¯ Sister M. Digne Lay Religious and Laws of Bishops Jose ph F. Gallen ~ue~s÷ions and Answers. Book Reviews Summer Sessions Report to Rome RI::¥11:::W FOR Ri::LI IOUS VOLUME IX MAY, 1950 NUMBER CONTENTS EYES RIGHT?--Richard Leo Heppler, O.F.M .1.1.3 SUMMER SESSIONS . 118 CONFORMITY WITH CHRIST IN HIS SUFFERING-- C. A. Herbst, S.2 . 119 ATOMIC BROTHERHOOD CAMPAIGN . ~ . 124 OF THE HOLY GHOST, WHO PROCEEDS AS LOVE-- Leo A. Coressel, S.J . 125 PRACTICAL APPLICATION OF PSYCHOMETRICS TO RELIGIOUS LIFE--~Sister M. Digna, O.S.B . 131 LAY RELIGIOUS AND THE LAWS OF BISHOPS ON CONFESSION-- 2oseph F. Gallen, S.J . 140 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 152 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 13. About the Little Office . 153 14. "Happy Death" Crucifixes . . . 1"54 15. Lay Superiors find Excuses from Fasting .154 16. Blessing by Mother Superior . 157 17. "'Sacrament of the Present Moment" . . 157 BOOK NOTICES . 158 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . . ' . 163 THE EYMARD LIBRARY . 165 . REPORT TO ROME '. . 166 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1950. Vol. IX, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Streef, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyright, 1950, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. 'Eyes Right:? Richard Leo Heppler, O.F.M.' ALL IN ALL. over the years, Noah Webster's work has been givin~ satisfactory service. Timeand again many of us have turned-to it in our difficu!ties and.have.come away not only with knowledge but also with] a: more 13rofound appreciation of the man's ability to be neat, exacL and brief. Now, it would be mani-festly unfair to accuse Mr. Webster of 1~eing unromantic in his defini-tions. He has no more title to be chivalrous with his words than Dr. Einstein has to be amateurish with his theories. Consequently, a love-smitten collegian might throw his dictionary away in disgust when he reads that the eye is "the organ of sight: esp., the nearly spherical mass, the eyeball, . in the bony cavity of the skull, or the orbit including eyelids, eyelashes, eyebrow." The yo,uth would avow that the great Noah Webster had never seen the eyes of his Hazel. And he might even be tempted to dare the venerable Mr. Webster--or anyone else--to try to describe the elusive laughter lurking in his Hazel's eyes. Naturally, we religious do not expect Mr. Webster to go'beyond his definitions; we do not expect him to try to describe the eyes we would most desire to have looked into. What words could ever describe the human eyes of Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ? For that.matter, who could ever describe the maternal eyes of Our Blessed Lady, the adoring eyes of St. Jose'ph, thd discerning eyes of the Magi, the patient eyes of Simeon, the priestly eyes 0t: St. Jdhn, the sympa-thetic eyes of VeronicL the contrite eyes of Mary Magdalene, the tdar-dimmed eyes of St. Peter, the purified eyes of St. Paul? And what about the eyes we would-not like to have seen? Isn't it just as well that Noah Webster did not attempt to describe the treacherous eyes of Judas, the murderous eyes of Barabbas, the stony eyes of Annas, the crafty eyes of Caiphas,the sneering eyes oi: the Pharisees, the wavering eyes of Pilate, the carnal eyes of Herod, the cold eyes of the Roman soldiers? That God gave us two ey.es to be used for His glory, religious readily admit. That it is possible for us to misuse them for our own greed, glory, and indulgence, no one will deny. To use our eyes th~ way God would have us use them and not the way our lower nature would incline us must be our constant effort. To aid us in this 113 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER Reoieu) [or Religious undertaking are countless 'angels and saints, and not the least among the latter is one who put his eyes to excellent advantage as long as he bad sight and then made proper use of blindness when God sent that. Some of the great artists and poets at times permitted themselves long, full, intoxicating gazes upon the teasing loveliness of nature so as to feed their minds with matter for masterpieces. And, in direct opposition, some of the severest saintly ascetics refused to allow their eyes to regard the beauties of creation lest their souls be disturbed in the contemplation of Beauty Uncreated. But St. Francis of Assisi, the poet, artist, and ascetic, was granted the gift of seeing the true beauty of this universe with unclouded vision while recognizing the unmistakable reflections of God's beauty everywhere he looked. He was poet and artist enough to appreciate all the moods and mani-festations of nature; he was saint enough to trace instinctively all loveliness back to its source. He could gaze for prayerful hours at sunlight and shadow and storm, at castle and cave and cathedral, at tomb and tent and tabernacle. He never tired thanking God for the moon and the stars and the rivers and the fields. He readily saw brothers' and sisters in birds and beasts and rain and fire and wind. It was part of his vocation to be an eye-opener for the rest of us. But it was his spiritual vision that saved him from being some-thing of a masculine, thirteenth-century Alice in Wonderland. All his life he saw very. repulsive beggars, but, as G. K. Chesterton says, he alway.s managed to see through the beggars and recognize Christ. There is no way of measuring the number of lepers he saw, but it is safe to say that he never looked upon one "of them without l~eing instantly reminded of the suffering Son of Man. That he never saw a lamb without thinking of the Lamb of God, and that children could walk away with his heart because Christ had favored them, and that a wounded bird could move him to tears, reveal a very deli-cate sensitiveness, But there was also a definitely virile spirituality in his view of things: he saw at close range rough bandits and tr'eated them like princely envoys; he looked upon Christian and Moslem soldiers ("murderers" might be more exact) and respected them as if they were martyrs of old; each condemned criminal was another Good Thief. Was he. unrealistic? Well, one day Brother Juniper told him that God had granted him a vision of h~ll and that he had seen no Friars there. To this St. Francis replied, "Brother Juniper, you did not look deep enough." A religious vocation is a calling to be a supernatural detective. 114 May, 1950 EYES RIGHT? God has generously scattered clues about Himself all arohnd us and He wants us to put them together and find out more about him. We have to try to see the hand of God and the love of God in every per-son we meet, in every place me go, in everyevent that happens to us. If we really try to be spiritual sleuths we shall be delighted with all the p6ssibilities around us. The bill-collector may be another St. Matthew, the doctor another St. Cosmas, the salesman another St. Peter of SienL the beggar another St. Benedict Joseph, the lawyer another St. Fidelis, the police captain another St. Sebastian, the sailor another St. Brendan, the altar, boy another St. John Berchmans, the taxi driver another St. Christopher, the farmer another St. Paschal Baylon. The same thing very easily could be continued in the fem-inine gender by one who knows the patronesses of girls who sell jewelry in the Five and Ten, girls who run elevators in Gimbel's, girls who serve aspirins in soaring airplanes, girls who daily pound their way towards heaven on typewriters, girls who slave at prosaic switch-boards, girls who teach nominative absolutes to bored high school seniors, girls who ease patients into dentists' chairs and money out of their pockets, and so on even to the girls who ride on motor-cycles, and the girls who engage in roller derbies. Everybody in the world is either an actual or a potential saint and should be viewed ¯ as such. If we are sharp detectives we shail discern the true dignity of the children who sit in front of us, the patients who lie upon our hospital beds, the employees who trim our lawns, run our errands, and mimeograph our notes. It is true that at meal time you may be tempted to say, "Young Jackson has big ears just like his father, and he is just as dumb." But you will know that God dearly loves both young Jackson and his father, even though He may have been lavish when he fashioned their ears and not when He doled out their brains. But it would be fatal to conclude that one can become an expert supernatural detective without practicing mortification of the eyes. Pretending that custody of the eyes is stupid is as absurd as pre-tending that Central Park is the Garden of Eden. If we really want "to trace I~he manifestations of God around us we must be willing to impose restraint upon gazing at anything and everything. If we sincerely desire to gaze forever upon the Beatific Vision we hav~ to restrict our gazing here below. The need of custody of the eyes as a bulwark for chastity is amply demonstrated by Sacred Scripture. Joseph was unjustly 115 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER Reoieu~ [or Religious thrown into prison because the wife of.Putiphar did not controi her eyes. King David, the boas~ of the chosen people, fell into a terrible sin because he permitted his eyes too much license. Here is what the Bible says of Holofernes when his soldidrs brought Judith to his tent: "And when she came into his presence forthwith Holofernes . was caught by his eyes." The sad story of the two evil ancients is but another proof that the eyes of young and old must be guarded. These two men were hel_,d in honor because of their age and their office. But they gazed immodestly upon' the chaste Susanna, and they were inflamed with lust for her. God saved Susanna arid con-founded the ancients and gave us the story as a concrete example of the meaning of the words of His Prophet Jeremias, "Death is come ,up through our Windows." But it is not into temptations against chastity alone that unre-strained liberty of the eyes can lead religious. If a Sister gazes with possessive eye, s at a statue or a book she sees in a store and determines to procure it without permission she can violate the vow of poverty. If a Brother gazes with undue complacency upon the saws, hatchets, or tractor permitted for his use, assured that he must have the latest and the best he may be guilty of faiIing in the virtue of poverty. If a priest, with satisfied superiority gazes upon his diplomas, citations, or signs of office he may be guilty of pride. That a religious might gaze upon the money in the community safe with avaricious eyes is not as likely as that he might gaze with eyes that are bigger than his stomach upon the steaks or lobsters in a choice restaurant. A Sister who with green eyes gazes upon .the new habit of another reveals tendencies towards envy. If to the detriment of his work and of his spiritual life a religious spends long periods of time looking over all the vacation-plan literature he can amass he may be guilty of sloth. One who watches the conduct of others with a view to censure them has not yet arrived at the perfection of charity. All religious can gaze upon holy water without any temptations whatsoever, but the same cannot be said of gazing upon fire-water. This could be continued in a figurative vein. To fail to see the hand of God in all the happenings of the day is to fail in the fullness of faith. To fail to see a friend of Christ in each member of the community is to bd weak in charity. To fail to see thewill of God in the commands of the superior is to be lacking in th~ complete spirit of obedience. To look only at the "dismal side of things is to reveal the absence of full trust and confidence in God. To look down 116 Ma~/, 1950 EYES RIGHT? upon others is a sign of pride, and to look up to others for recogni-tion and praise is an indication of human respect. St. Teresa tells us that she lost twelve years of spiritual growth because of her attachment to needless conversations. Who can measure the detriment to the interior life that is caused by unmorti- . fied eyes? The spirit of prayer may. be weakened, recollection destroyed, silence dissipated, andthe desire for perfection blighted by overindulgence in the reading of secular newspapers, magazines, and novels. Too much looking at television may not only drive a reli-gious to'an oculist; it may blind him to the importance of daily spir-itual reading. Too many movies, shows, and spectacles may per-manently stunt the growth of souls. But to walk around all day with our eyes closed or constantly cast down is to become something of a public menace. We might upset community life (if not a member of the community) if we were to fail to look where we were going. We might land in a hos-pital or a morgue if we refused to keep our eyes open while we were crossing city streets. Custody of the eyes does not mean that a reli-gious does not see the children in the classroom, the drugs in the pharmacy, the cows in the shed, or the fire in the boiler; it means that we do not allow dangerous images to remain in focus and that we do not lose sight of God no matter where we are. We can certainly better our spiritual vitality by using our eyes pr?perly. In every classroom, ward, shop, and corridor are cruci-fixes, statues, or holy pictures. What is the purpose of placing these pious objects in such obvious places?. Who but a novice "could ask that question? For who btit a novice could suspect that these objects have been placed where they can accumulate invisible dust and thus furnish the master or the mistress with ammunition for a daily cor-rection? On the other hand, some religious might be embarrassed if they were suddenly asked what picture hangs in the classroom they daily use or upon which wall in the tailor' shop does the crucifix hang. It should be easy for us to look long and lovingly at the crucifix, to see every detail of Christ's death, to read every line of the story of our redemption. St. Thomas Aquinas once asked St. Bona-venture whence he derived all his knowledge. Pointing to his cruci-fix, the Seraphic Doctor replied that from "this well-spring.of light and love"he drew whatever could be found in his lectures or writings. Armies of saints have learned the lessons of poverty, chastity, obedi-ence, humility, charity, patience, fortitude, self-denial, contrition, 117 RICHARD LEO HEPPLER zeal, gratitude, and confidence by spending long hours in the prayer-ful study of the crucifix. And it is comforting to know that we shall spend all eternity as the friends and companions of the saints upon whose pictures or statues we now look each day. Some people have strange vocations, and Mary Ann O'Donnell had one of the strangest. She was a blind girl who attended a Cath-olic college in the East. Each day, led by her seeing-eye dog, she came to class and took her notes in Braille and waited to be called on. The other students (they could see) resented the fact that the priest called on Mary Ann; they thought it was'unfair. But Mary Ann wanted to recite; she wanted to learn, and she did not want pity. MaryAnn stayed in college only two years; then she went away to recite the eternal praises of the Triune God and to gaze in rapture upon the Father of Lights. Probably she did not know that she was an apostle, but she did teach many of the collegians and the professors to thank God for the gift of sight. She could even have taught reli-gious who daily gaze upon the Eucharistic Lord as He is elevated at Mass or raised on high during Benediction to consecrate their eyes to God so that they may be sure to see Him face to face. SUMMER SESSIONS The Institute for Re.ligious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Penn-sylvania (a three-year summer course of twelve days in Canon Law and Ascetical Theology for Sisters), will be held this year August 19-30. This is the first year in the triennial course. The coubse in Canon Law is given by the Reverend 3oseph F. Gallen, S.3. that in Ascetical Theology by the Reverend Daniel ~1. M. Callahan, SJ., both of Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The registra-tion is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to Rev. ~loseph F. Gallen, SJ., Woodstock College, Wood-stock, Md. The seventh annual Psychological Institute will be conducted at the St. Coletta School for Exceptional Children, ~lefferson, Wiscon-sin, from ,luly 19 to August 27. The Cardinal Stritch College, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, sponsors this workship course for teachers who are interested in special education of handicapped children, and who wish to understand and help slow-learning children in the nor-mal classroom situation. Bulletin available upon request from the (Continued on P. 130) 118 Conl:ormi!:y wi!:h Christ: in His Suffering C. A. Herbst, S.J. 44~ND I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things myself" (John 12:32). All things, especially lov.e, the greatest of all things, and the hearts of men. Love longs to be united with its object, to be assimilated to it, to be identified with it as much as possible. A worthy return love to Christ should be measured by the lengths to which His love has gone in loving me. "He loved me and delivered himself 'for me" (Gal. 2:20). One deeply in love with Our Lord has written: "Imagining Christ our Lord present and placed on the Cross, let me make a colloquy with Him: how from Creator He is come to making Himself man, and from eternal life is come to temporal death, and so to die for my sins. Likewise, looking at myself, what have I done for Christ, what I am doing for Christ, what I ought to do for Christ. And so, seeing Him such, and so nailed to the Cross, to go over that which will present itself to me." (Spiritual Exercises, Colloquy to the First Exercise.) What, according to the norm of worthy return love, will pyesent itself to me? St. Paul, a model for all who love Christ crucified, answered for all Christians for all time: "With Christ I am nailed to the cross" (Gal. 2:19). Christ was eager to suffer for me "hnto death, even to the death of the cross" (Phil. 2:8). He longed for that. "I have a baptism wherewith I am to be baptized: and how am I straitened until it be accomplished?" (Luke 12:50). He was so eager to get to His pas-sion that the disciples could scarcely keep up with Him. "And they were in the way going up to Jerusalem: and they were astonished, and following were afraid" (Mark 10:32). And why not? Was He not born for this? .The angel told the shepherds the night He was born: "This day is born to you a Saviour" (Luke 2:11), and in the infinitely loving designs of God salvation would come through His passion and death. In contemplating the persons present at the beginning of His suffering life we are urged "to look and consider what they are doing, as making a journey and laboring, that the Lord may be born in the greatest poverty; and as a termination of so many labors--of hunger, of thirst, of heat and of cold, of injuries and 1i9 C. A. HERBST Review for Religious affronts--that He may die on the Cross; and all this for me." (Spiritual Exercises: The Nativity.) The shadow of the cross was already falling on the Child in the manger. In fact, it is hard to explain Bethlehem without Calvary. Christmas points to Good Friday. When Mary "brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him up in swaddling clothes, and /aid him in a manger" (Luke 2:7), she presented the victim for the cross. Christ came "to give his life a redemption for many" (Mr. 20:28), and although, as His agony drew near, He naturally recoiled from it, He knew it must be so. "Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? Father, save me from this hour. But for this cause I came unto this hour." (John 12:27.) "Jesus' began to do and to teach" (Acts 1 : 1). He taught first by example, then by word. "I have given you an example, that as I have done to you, so you do also" (John 13:15). This is true also of His sufferings. "Christ also suffered for us, leaving you an example that you should follow his steps" (I Pet. 2:21). No one of experience has to be told that life is full of suffering. We pray to Mary after Mass every morning: "To thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping, in this vale of tears." We must unite our sufferings with Christ's sufferings and offer them with Him to God togethe~ with His own if they are to be precious in His sight. We realize this and do it every morning when we pray: "O Jesus, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, I offer Thee my prayers, works, joys and sufferings of this day." Even from the point of view of a good selfishness this is the wise thing to do. An old retreat master of wide experience told the priests making the thirty-day retreat: "Offer your miseries to God and they cease at once to hurt." Our Lord Himself then becomes our consolation. "For as the suf-ferings of Christ abound in us: so also by Christ doth our comfort abound" (II Cor. 1:5). Blessed shall we be if we are allowed to suffer something for Christ. The eighth and last and perhaps, judging from His own life, the greatest of the benedictions He spoke over His beloved fol-lowers was: "Blessed are they that suffer persecution for justice' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are ye when they shall revile you, and persecute you, and speak all that is evil against you, untruly, for my sake: Be glad and rejoice for your reward is very great in heaven." (Matt. 5:I0-12.) The apostles understood this well, and after they had been scourged "went from the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were accounted worthy to suffer 120 Ma~ , 1950 CONFORMITY WITH CHRIST reproach for the name'of Jesus" (Acts 5:41). It is most logical and correct that the members of the true Church of Christ from then till now should take the cross as their emblem and rally around it as the battle flag of their religion. From Constantine to the High Middle Ages Christ crucified was the victorious king: "'Regna~it a. li~lr~o Deus'" ("God hath reigned from the Cross"). Then came the spir-itual giants and moulders of affective prayer like Bernard and Francis and Bonaventure, with their ecstatic love for the Crucified. The mystics who followed them and the men and women in modern times who were in love with Christ crucified are almost count-less. The prophecy is fulfilled: "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw all things to myself." All things, especially lobe, the greatest of all things, and the hearts of men. Conformity with Christ in His suffering, a longing to suffer with Him, to suffer because He suffered, to be identified as far as possible with Christ in His suffering life, to be crucified with Him--this is the aim of those who love Christ perfectly. Union with Christ in His suffering is the finest expression of love for God here on this earth. This is the perfect way to tear ourselves away from sin. "Our old man is crucified with him, that the body of sin may be destroyed, to the end that we may serve sin no longer" (Rom. 6:6). What with all his knowledge and ability Paul said: "I judged not myself to know anything among you, but Jesus Christ, and him crucified" (I Cor. 2:2). Nor was this a theoretical knowledge only nor a pious boast. It was St. Paul's glory to put into practice this knowl-edge. "God forbid that I should glory, save in .the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ; by whom the world is crucified to me, and I to the world" (Gal. 6: 14). Crucified and dead and risen to a new life: "And I live, now not I: but Christ liveth in me. And that I live in' the flesh: I live in the faith of the son of God, who loved me, and deliv~red himself for me." (Gal. 2:20.) This is to be a fool for Christ and with Christ. But "the fool-ishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men . But the foolish things of the world hath God chosen, that he may confound the wise, and the weak things of. the world hath God chosen, that he may confound the strong. And the base.things of the world, and the things that are contemptible, hath God chosen, and things that are not, that he might bring to nought things that are." (I Cor. 1:25, 27, 28). The author of the Spiritual Exercises caught this spirit perfectly and put it into his Third Degree of Humility. "In order to imitate and be more actually 121 C. A. HERBST like Christ our Lord, I want and choose poverty with Christ poor rather than riches, opprobrium with Cbrlst replete with it rather than honors: and to desire to be rated as worthless and a fool for Christ, Who first was held as such, rather than wise or prudent in this world." He explains a little more at Iength in another place, "For as worldly men who follow the things of the world, love and with great diligence seek honors, reputation and the credit of a great name upon earth, as the world teaches them, so those who are advancing in spirit and seriously follow Christ our Lord, love and earnestly desire things which are altogether the contrary; that is, to be clothed with the same garment and with the livery of their Lord for His love and reverence; insomuch that if it could be without offense of the divine Majesty and without sin on the part of their' neighbor, they would wish td suffer [eproaches, slanders and injuries, and to be treated and accounted as fools (without at the same time giving any occasion for it), because they desire to imitate and resemble in some sort their Creator and Lord Jesus Christ, and to be clothed with His garments and livery, since He clothed HimseIf with the same for our greater spiritual good, and gave us an example that, in all things, as far as by the assistance of God's grace we can, we may seek to imitate and follow Him, seeing He is the true way that leads men to life." (Examen Generale, IV, 4.) A woman saint, too, of modern times, St. Margaret Mary, caught, lived, and expressed in her own simple but powerful and almost rapturous way the necessity of being conformed to Christ in His suffering life if one is to love Him perfectly. "Ah! I assure you," she writes, "that without the Blessed Sacrament and the cross I could not live, nor could I bear the length of my exile in this valley of tears, where I have never wished to see my sufferings diminish. The more overwhelmed my body was, the more my spirit rejoiced and was at liberty to be occupied with and united to my suffering Jesus, for I had no greater desire than to make of myself a true and perfect copy and representation of my Jesus Crucified." (.Autobiography, No. 86.) "He also inspired me with so ardent a desire to conform myself to His suffering life, that all I endured seemed to me as nothing. This made me redouble my penances, and, prostrating myself at times at the foot of my crucifix, I said: 'How happy should I be, O. my dear Saviour, if Thou wouldst imprint on me the likeness of Thy suf-ferings!' " (Ibid., No. 29.) He did notdo this, but "He asked me for my heart, which I begged Him to take. He did so and placed it in His own Adorable Heart where He showed it to me as a little atom 122 1950 CONFORMITY WITH CHRIST which was being consumed in this great furnace, and withdrawing it thence as a burning flame in the form of a heart, He restored it to the place whence He had taken it, saying to me: 'See, My well-beloved, I give thee a precious token of My love, having enclosed within thy side a little spark of its glowing flames, that it may serve thee for a heart and consume thee to the last moment of thy life . Although I have dosed the wound in thy side, the pain will always remain'." (Ibid., No. 53.) His very next words crowned this Cal-vary with glory: "If hithertO; thou hast taken only the name of My slave, I now give thee that of the beloved disciple of My Sacred Heart." Calvary must be crowned with glory. "If we suffer, we shall also reign with him" (II Tim. 2:12) ; "If we suffer with him, that we may be also glorified with him" (Rom. 8: 17). "If you partake of the sufferings of Christ, rejoice that when his glory shall be revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding great joy" (I Pet. 4: 13), "knowing that as you are partakers of the sufferings, so shall you be also of the consolation" (II Cot. 1:7). Therefore I ought to count all things to be but loss "that I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable to his death" (Phil. 3:10). "For I reckon that the sufferings of this time are not worthy to be compared with the glory to come, that shall be revealed in us" (Rom. 8 : 18). For "Eye hath not seen nor ear heard nor bath it entered into the heart of man, what things God hath prepared for them that love him" (I Cor. 2:9) by carrying the Cross and being fixed to it with Him. We should wish to be conformed with Christ in His suffering life out of worthy return love, because "He loved me and delivered Himself for me." Seeing Christ our Lord present and placed on the cross I ask myself: "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I do for Christ?" Th~ least I ought to do is offer lovingly to Him "my sufferings of this day" that they may console Him in His and be made precious' by union with His. We can make no mistake in accepting and offering patiently, lovingly, joyfully even to God whatever He permits to come or sends into our life. To want to have the sufferings and hard things that coffee our way because we then have what Christ had is to practice the third degree of humility and high virtue. We give clearer expression to tl~e "I want what You had" by inflicting physical pain on our body for love of Christ, by practicing corporal penances. This is a posi-tive, courageous, and "energetic ,approach towards conformity with 123 C. A. HERBST my suffering Savior, who first chose to suffer physical pain for love of me. "He loved me, and delivered Himself for me." To be wretched and miserable when we are not suffering with our blessed Lord, to pray with St. Theresa of Avila "to suffer or to die," is to have reached the heights. Conformity with Christ in His suffering has been the great aim and end of the Saints because His passion and death were the great aim and end of Christ. From Paul nineteen hundred years ago, who exclaimed, "With Christ I am nailed to the cross," to our own day when Th~r~se of Lisieux offered her life a sacrifice of love and repara-tion to God, this has been true. It must be true for. me, too, now, today, in a little way, finally in the full measure of the saints when we have grown to their stature. Yes, this is for me, too. After twenty, or thirty, or forty years, perhaps, but still for me. Mean-while I can pray: "I beseech Thee, most sweet Lord Jesus Christ, grant that Thy passion may be to me a power by which I may be strengthened, protected, and defended. May Thy wounds be to me food and drink, by which I may be nourished, inebriated, and over-joyed. May the sprinkling of Thy Blood be to me an ablution for all my sins. May Thy death prove to me life everlasting, and Thy cross be to me an eternal glory. In these be my refreshment, my joy, my preservation, and sweetness of heart. Who livest and reignest world without end. Amen." (Roman Missal.) ATOMIC BROTHERHOOD CAMPAIGN The purpose ot: the Atomic Brotherhood Campaign, organized by the Franciscan Teaching Brothers of the Diocese of Brooklyn, is to secure the prayers of youth for the increase of vocations to the teaching Brotherhoods. Schools receive posters and pledge cards on which the boy or girl checks off a spiritual contribution. Prayers and devotions already common to Catholics are used. In return for this offering, each member is enrolled in the club membership and receives a card signed by the director of the movement and a card containing a prayer for one's choice of a state of life. Already some ~/0,000 children in elementary and high schools, as well as some college students, have made a spiritual contribution. Full particulars and supplies necessary to take part in the Atomic Brotherhood Cam-paign may be secured from: Brother Linus, O.S.F., St. Francis Mon-astery, 41 Butler St., Brooklyn 2, N.Y. 124 0t: :he I-loly Ghost: Who Proceeds As love Leo. A. Coressel, S.J. IN THE MASS of Pentecost Sunday we pray: "Come, 0 Holy Spirit, fill the hearts oi~ Thy faithful and kindle in them the fires of Tby love." In the sequence of the same Mass we salute the Holy Ghost under various titles: as Father of the poor, as Comforter, as the soul's delightful Guest, as Relief of us pilgrims, as Light of life. Tbis song o~ praise ends with the petition: Grant us in life The grace that In peace rnag die and ether be in jog before The face AlT2en.1 These truths recall to mind matters that we all too easily forget. We forget who the HoIy Ghost is and what we owe to Him, that He is God, that He is our sanctifier, our strength and joy in life and our reward after death. If once these realities were deeply embedded in our consciousness and appreciated they would give timely stimulation to spiritual progress and to zeal for souls. One way to quicken such a realization is to broaden the horizons of our knowledge of the Holy Ghost. This can be done by consid-ering the names by which He is known, Their meaning will unfold to us something of His nature and point to reasons for His activity as proposed to us in the Mass of Pentecost Sunday. The names by which the Third Person of the' Blessed Trinity is designated are many. Chief among them are the following: Holy, Spirit or Ghost, Love, Gift, Paraclete, Spirit of Truth. Less com-mon are: Bond or Union of the Father and Son, Living Fountain, Power of God, Seal, Ointment, Fire. We want to concern ourselves here with the names by which the Third Person is chiefly known. These names tell us of His nature and office. In this way they differ greatly from ordinary human names. For example, names like John, Elizabeth, and Mary have an entirely proper meaning, but as desig-nating definite, individual men and women, they tell us nothing of their personality traits and human qualities. It is far otherwise with the names of the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. They not 1The Saint Andrew Daily Missal. 125 LEO A. CORESSEL Review/:or Religious only identify Him but also tell us much about Him. We have, perhaps, taken for granted the names by which the Third Person is known. As part of our Catholic inheritance they have been familiar to us since childhood. But we may quite frankly ask ourselves just why the Holy Ghost is so called, why He is called Love, Gift, and so on. Reverently done such a questioning attitude of mind will prove exceedingly fruitful. The First and Second Persons are called Father and Son because of their mutual relationship. The First Person is really and truly Father and the Second Person just. as really and truly is Son. The First Person begets the Second. The Father begets the Son in an eternal generation. This divine generation is more than a figure of speech. The Father truly begets. The Son is truly begotten. We should not regard earthly fatherhood as the real thing and the divine fatherhood as but the shadow of the great reality. The fullness of generation is predicated of God and only secondarily of creatures. As St. Paul says: "For this cause, then, I bend my knees to the Father, from whom all fatherhood in heaven and on earth is named." (Eph. 3:14-15, Westminster Version. This version is also used in other Scripture quotations in this article.) We see now the reason why the Father and Son are so called. But why is the Third Person called Holy, Spirit, Love, Gift? We already recognize fatherhood and sonship from our own observa-tions. We know of human persons who are fathers and sons. But when we consider the Third Person we have no such guide to lead the way. We have, indeed, experienced love. We know the meaning of holiness and of spirit. The giving and the receiving of gifts are sources of joy. But we are not prepared beforehand for a person who is himself love, holiness, spirit, and gift. Such a person is out-side the range of our widest observhtions. He is beyond the realm of our natural knowledge. For these reasons the person of the Holy Ghost is more deeply obscure in the mysteries of faith than are the Father and the Son. The name by which the Third Person is most generally known is Holy Ghost. We may, then, begin with aft inquiry into the appropriateness of these two words as applied to the Third Person. The Father, as also the Son, is a spirit and is holy. Why, then, are these two words united and applied to the Third Person? St. Augus-tine tells us a reason: "Since the Holy Ghost is common to both, He Himself is called that properly which both are called in. common. For the Father is a spirit and the Son is a spirit: and the Father is 126 Ma~, 1950 OF THE HOLY GHOST holy .and the Son is holy." In other words, the Third Person is called Holy Spirit from the fact that proceeding from both Father and Son, He is called that which both have in common, namely, that they are holy and spirit. Another and a deeper reason why the Third Person is called Holy Spirit is found in the fact that He proceds from the Father and Son as Love. As this love, He is, first of all, rightly called Spirit, since the property of love is to move and impel; for example, love moves and impels the lover towards the beloved. But the word spirit also implies a certain impulse and movement. Hence He who proceeds as Love is rightly called Spirit. This is the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas. He says: "The name spirit in things cor-poreal seems to signify impulse and motion: for we call the breath and the wind by the term spirit. Now it is a property of love to move and impel the will of the lover toward the object loved.''2 The procession of the Third Person may be further illustrated from our own everyday experience. We.are conscious of breathing as a movement of air into and out of the lungs. We know, too, that the word breathing is used of vehement acts of the will. We say that a man breathes out' love or hatred. Think of expressions like lovers sighing like a furnace, Saul breathing out threats. If we apply this to God, we can readily see why the Third person is called Spirit. Proceeding as Love from the Father and Son the Third Per-son is breathed forth by them. The Father and Son breathe forth a Breath, a Spirit, a Divine Person, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. Thus as Spirit, as Breath of the Father and Son, the Holy Spirit proceeds from them. This last illustration may be stated in another way. The love which one feels inwardly for a person or object is oftentimes extern-alized by a deep breathing or sigh, which is expressed in Latin by the word spiritus. The Father and Son express their infinite, eternal love for each other in a profound sigh' or breath, as it were. This breath is Spirit, the Holy Spirit, the Third Person, God, coequal with the Father and Son. As is true of spirit so als0 holiness has a relation to love. The Third Person proceeds as Love. But love makes one holy; it orders one rightly to God. Hence the Third Person is called Holy. This reasoning will appear "weightier if we recall that holiness in God is 2Surnma Theologica 1,, q.36, a.1. Literally translated by Fathers of the English Dominican Province. 127 LEO A. CORESSEL Review for Religious love of His own infinite being. The Third Person, then, who is possessed of infinite being, as are the Father and Son, and who is the expression of the infinite love of the Father and Son, is peculiarly called the Holy. The names by which the Third Person is most familiar to us are Holy and Spirit. But He is also called Gift. In the Acts of the Apostles (2:.38) we read: "Repent ye, and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ unto the remission of your sins; and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit." The Third Person is not just a gift. He is the Gift, just as He is the Holy and the Spirit. When a gift is given, love is the impelling force. In fact, love itself is the greatest gift one can give another. Now the Third Person proceeds as Love from the Father and 'Son and has an apti-tude to be given to men. He is, then, rightly and properly called the Gift. In this sense He is spoken of in the Veni Creator Spiritus: Thou who art called the Paraclete Best gift of God above The living spring, the living fire Sweet unction and true love.z It will be noted that the three names of the Third Person examined so far, Holy, Spirit, Gift, all have a relation to love. It is by this title, Love, that He is especially distinguished from the Second Person. The Son proceeds by generation from the intellect of the Father.' The Holy Ghost proceeds in a mysterious way as Love from Father and Son. The word love is somewhat abstract, although its action and personification are very concrete to us. St. Paul personifies love when he says: "charity is patient, is kind; charity envieth not" (-I 'Cor. 13:4). But we are not now speaking of such a love. The Third Person is not love personified. He is Love personalized, a Divine Person. " All this is very strange to us. But we have an aid in our own mental processes to help us along the way. When one loves another, He has within himself love, an act of the will, frequently called an affection of the will. This affection may endure over a long period of time. But it also may be lost because of neglect. It may even be replaced by hatred. But when the Father and Son love each other there results a substantial love, one who is Love, a Person, the Third Person of the Blessed Trinity. We know this because each of the 3Translation from Roman Breviary, Benziger Brothers. 128 Ma~, 1950 OF THE HOLY GHOST Three Persons is God, because the Holy Ghost proceeds as a Person from the will of the Father and Son, and because the Fathers of the Church call the Third Person Love inasmuch as works of love are attributed to Him in Sacred Scripture. "And hope does not prove false, for the charity of God is poured forth in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rom. 5:5). Another important name of the Third Person is Spirit ot: Truth. He is so called in the Gospel of St. John: "And I will ask the Father and he shall give you another Advocate . the Spirit of Truth" (I4:16-17). The Holy Ghost is called Spirit of Truth for several reasons; because He proceeds from Truth, that is to say, the Word, the Second Person; because He is sent to announce the truth; and lastly because He is the substantial love of truth and leads men to love the truth. This title should make us more aware of the neces-sity of daily invoking the Holy Spirit. We stand in danger of falling victims to the deceits of the world. We are in need of having divine truths brought home to us. Our heaven-given guide can and will enlighten us. He will also inspire us with a love of the truth that we may be able clearly to discern the wisdom of God in the midst of all modern deceits. , Finally the Holy Ghost is called Paraclete or Advocate. An advocate is one who defends his client, who pleads for him. He is an intercessor, a helper, a counselor. The Holy Ghost is our Para-clete, our Advocate. He aids us in our weakness, He pleads for us, He intercedes for us. St. Paul in the Epistle to the Romans (8:26- 27) says: "And in like manner the Spirit also beareth up our weak-ness. For we know not how we are to pray as we ought; but the Spirit himself pleadeth in our behalf with unutterable groanings. And he. who searcheth hearts knoweth what is the mind of the Spirit, how he pleadeth before God in behalf of the saints." The Holy Ghost is also our helper: "And no one can say 'Jesus is Lord' save in the Holy Spirit" (I Cor. 12:3). The Holy Ghost is our counselor. He calls us to good and aids us in our endeavors. He gives joy in accomplishment. We have seen how the Third Person is revealed to us as Love, Holy, Spirit, Gift, Spirit of Truth, and Paraclete. These names give us a glimpse of His sublime personality. They disclose reasons for the various offices attributed to Him. Proceeding as Love, He is the Holy Ghost, intent on our sanctification, a work of very great love. As Love he is comforter, Father of the poor. As Love He is Gift, the soul's most delightful Guest. He is Spirit of Truth and Para- 129 LEO A. CORESSEL clete, guiding us along the paths ot: truth and holiness. For all these reasons we should love the Holy Ghost. We should try to bring Him more and more into our everyday conscious-nest, since we owe Him so much in life, in death, and in eternity. Since He is Holy, should we not strive to be holy? Since He is Spirit, should we not daily seekthe things of the spirit? Since He is Love, should we not ask Him to inflame our hearts with the purest love? He gives Himself to us as a Gift; then we should in return give our-selves entirely to him. He guides us in the ways of truth and grace; we should, therefore, be most grateful to him. We may w~ll try to have continually in our minds and hearts one of the thoughts of the sequence of the Mass of Pentecost Sunday: To Tb~ sweet ~toke our stiff necks bow, Warm with Tbq loue our hearts of snow, Our wandering feet recall.4 Summer Sessions (Continued from P. 118) Sisters of St. Francis, St.o Coletta School, Jefferson, Wisconsin. The Confraternity of Christian Doctrine will offer a special training course at the Catholic University of America from June 26 to August 5. The aim of the course is to prepare Sisters, Brothers, and seminarians for the various fields of the Confraternity program. ¯ The courses of study will be conducted by the Very Reverend Fran-cis 3. Connell, C.SS.R. ; Sister M. Rosalia, M.H.S.H. : and Miss Mir-iam Marks. The first course concerns doctrine; the second, methods of teaching; the third, the apostolate. Students must register for all three courses. For further information write to: The Confraternity of Christian Doctrine, 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., Wash-ington 5, D.C. The Department of Education of Marquette University offers courses in moral and ascetical guidance. The ascetical course will be conducted by G. Augustine Ellard, S.J.; the moral course, by Gerald Kelly, S.J. These are graduate courses; enrollment is limited to Sis-ters. June 26 to August 4. For further information write to: The Registrar, Marquette University, 615 N. 1 l th St., Milwaukee 3, Wisconsin. The Religion Department of The Creight0n University offers: (Continued on P. 139) 4The Saint Andrew Daily Missal 130 Prac!:ical Applical:ion ot: Psychome!:rics Religious Lit:e Sister M. Digna, O.S.B. THE principles underlying the use of psychometrics in appraising applicants to religious life were discussed in a recent article.1 Although many communities do not hesitate to use the findings of the physician in determining the physical fitness of applicants to their congregations or orders, some religious are startled at the thought of utilizing the findings of psychological research in reference to religious vocations. Two recent studies2,3 indicate a new trend in the direction of establishing testing programs as one of the prelim-inary procedures for admission into the seminary and religious life. As communities employ testing techniques for diagnosing and asses-sing such factors as the intelligence, the personality, the interests, and the aptitudes of their candidates, they will discover that methods of therapy, amelioration, or control will bring about greater spiritual progress in their young religious. If the candidate enters religion from. purely supernatural motives, an objective ~self-analysis will eliminate much of the time often spent on self-scrutiny in trying to eradicate an overt fault that is rooted in a personality defect. With a better understanding of her own weaknesses and strengths, a young religious may approach the entire problem of self-improvement more intelligently. She will devote less time to self and more to God. Test results may be helpful in hastening the development of the super-natural life of the candidate, if admitted, and in screening out those who may be unfit for religious life. This report attempts to illus-trate in a concrete manner some of the predictive aspects of tests for ascertaining the possible adjustment or non-adjustment of applicants to religious life. Ordinarily the adjusted person is one who can adapt reasonably 1Sister M. Digna. "That God's Will Be Known." REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII, (,July 15, 1949), 201-207. -°Thomas J. McCarthy, "Personality Traits of Seminarians." Studies in Psycholoog and Psgchiatrg from the Catholic Unioersitg of America, V, (June, 1942), 1-46. 3Sister Richarda Peters, O.S.B., "A Study of the Intercorrelations of Personality Traits among a Group of Novices in Religious Communities," Studies in Psgchol-ogg and Psgchiatrg from the Catholic Uniuersitg of America, V, (December, 1942) 1-38. 131 SISTER M. Review t'or Religlous well to any reasonably adequate situation. Father Curran,4 who supports or at least bases his interpretation of adjustment on St. Thomas, says, in part, that adjustment does not mean merely compromising or coming to terms with problems but delving into the nature of reality. In other words, adjustment implies self-knowledge. To support the proposition that psychometrics can be used in detecting factors that will predict the future adjustment to life in religion, a group of high school and college records of individuals who later entered religion were examined. The results of intelli-gence tests and personality ratings were used to classify these young women into three groups: those who could be predicted to adjust well to religious life; those who could be predicted to adjust but with some difficulty: and those who would very likely not adjust. Later, the major superiors who were well acquainted with the subjects sub-stantiated the classification in all but one instance. The American Council on Education Psychological Examina-tion (ACE) had been administered to all these high school seniors and college freshmen. The American Council on Education Psycho-logical Examination is designed to measure the type of ability required for most college curricula. Although not all prospective subjects for religious life must necessarily be mentally equipped to do college work, the scores do show roughly more about the mental alertness of the individual than could be ascertained in a personal interview; and a low ranking percentile score would indicate that the mental ability of the individual should be appraised more specifically by administrating some general mental ability test. However, since the American Council Examination is considered by most authorities as a reliable index of intelligence, these scores were used to study the correlation between in.telligence and adjustment to religious life. While the correlation was reasonably high, it was not perfect, for several young women who were evidently very intelligent had failed later to make satisfactory adjustments. In these cases personality factors entered the picture. Sister Richarda Peters, O.S.B.,5 came to the same conclusion in her analysis of a group of novices in religious communities. She writes that cognitive ability (intelligence) showed no consistent relationship with the absence of undesirable traits. Evidently, high intelligence is no guarantee that the individual has no 4Charles A. Curran. Personality Factors in Counseling. (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1945), pp. 260-264. 50p. cir., p. 28. 132 May, 1950 PSYCHOMETRICS undesirable personality traits. Whether high, average, or low intelligence plays an important or a not too important part in the adjustment of individuals to life in religion, personality factors do explain many of the maladjustments in that state. Frequently, several factors contribute in precipitating a certain disorder of personality or behavior, any one of which can be credited as the last straw that broke the cameI's back. After all, it is the combination of several elements--familial, physical, psychological, and social--that relates to behavior disturbances' and influences adjustment to life and particularly to religious life. The four methods of evaluating or measuring personality charac-teristics generally employed are rating scales, intensive inter'iiewing,. anecdotal records, and paper and pencil tests. The paper and pencil tests will yield surprisingly good results, for many of the questions: on the test could have been asked in a long oral interview. Common' sense should operate in determining the purpose of the ratings, for no single test can be diagnostic of the total personality. Certain. inconsistencies of scores should be checked by retesting, preferably with a comparable form or another valid personality test. That personality tests are useful for discovering maladjustments in religious life has been noted in a research conducted by Thomas J. McCarthy~ on "Personality Traits of Seminarians." His study was not inter-preted in a predictive sense for screening or counseling, but was carried on with the hope "that such an investigation would be of help later on in developing an effective personality testing program.''r In the present report, the results of the Minnesota Personality Scale were used in studying the personalities of those Who later entered religious life. The Minnesota Personality Scale, while not so well-known nor so highly recommended as the Minnesota Multi-phasic Personality Inventory, the Bernreuter Personality Inventory, or the Bell Adjustment Inventory, is easily administered and is not too difficult to interpret. The scale is subdivided into five categories: morale, social adjustment, home and family relations, emotionality, and economic conservatism. Typical cases will be used here to indi-cate some of the possibilities of personality scales as a means of better understanding the individuals who desire to enter religious life. Where results of Strong's "Vocational Interests Blank" were avail-able, these findings were also included. The data on Student I who became Sister I was appraised. Every- 6Op. cit. rlbid., p. 1. 133 SISTER M. DIGNA thing pointed to an excellent adjustment in community life. The student ranked in the upper one-third of all college students who took the American Council on Education Psychological Test (ACE) throughout the countr)L The information from a questionnaire that Student I filled out as a freshman showed that. she was one of a large family in a good Catholic home. The other children in the.family had attended colleges and universities. Her schooling had been entirely Catholic. Her percentile score for morale on the Minnesota Personality Scale" indicated a wholesome attitude toward the Church, school, and government. Her social adjustment .percentile showed her to be reasonably gregarious and socially mature. The percentile score in the area of family relations was just on the borderline between good and bad: hence it needed interpretation. Here the data on the freshman questionnaire supplemented the results of the tests. From this data it was obvious that Student I had been wisely helped by her parents and older brothers and sisters to achieve a rather early emancipation from overdependence on her home and family. The student has no feelings of .rejection or insecurity, for her autobiogra-phy showed that her family life was contented, co-operative, and very happy. Her emotionality score indicated that she was emo-tionally stable and self-possessed. Her economic attitude was con-servative. Since this' student had taken the Strong's "Vocational Interest Blank," the data on her vocational interests were in the files. The basic interest types for Strong's Blank for women are five: (1) tech-nical, including interests paralleling those of dentist, physician, teacher of mathematics, and teacher of the physical sciences; (2) verbal or linguistic, embracing author, librarian, and artist: (3) business contacts, with interests in fields patterning those of life insurance saleswomen; (4) welfare, including the interests of those successful in teaching social sciences, lawydr, personnel worker, social worker; and (5) non-professional interests, as general office worker, nurse, stenographer-secretary, and housewife. The interests are further divided into primary pattern where the interest type shows a pre-ponderance of A- and B-plus scores on the specific occupat.ional keys: the secondary pattern is the interest type within which there are more B-plus and B-minus scores. Student I's primary interest pattern was in the area of authorship and teaching of English and social work. She possessed a high score in femininity, indicating that her interests were largely feminine in nature. It may be argued that much of this information about a well- 134 May, 1950 PSYCHOMETRICS adjusted girl would be self-evident and that tests, personality scales, questionnaires, and interest blanl~s were simply a waste of time. This example is used to illustrate that tests do have predictive value whether for reinforcing evidence at hand, or for detecting qualities. not so obvious. Student II, now Sister 2, was characterized also by her major superiors as "well-adjusted." Her intelligence score placed her in the lower third of the college freshmen group. Her profile on the Min-nesota Personality Scale showed her morale to be exceptionally high. One may predict, however, that an individual with a score as high as 'hers would likely take a naive and unquestioning attitude toward life; consequently, for her, obedience rarely will be ditScult. Her problem and that of her superiors will be to raise to a supernatural level her purely natural inclination to do what others command. Her social adjustment indicated a fair degree of socialization. This score, too, needs further interpretation. As an only child she was largely dependent upon her father for companionship, her social contacts with those of her own age were limited. Her high score in the area of family relations suggests overdependence on her family; in this case, on her father. In the area of emotionality, a score placing her in the "upper third of the group reveals that she. is emotionally stable a.nd self-poss~ssed. The results of the Strong's Interest Blank were available. A summary of the ratings demonstrates that Student II had primary patterns in three fields; namely, welfare work including social work, social science teaching, personnel, and law; the technical field as den-tistry, teaching of mathematics, and physician; and a third area, business. She had ~/ very low femininity score, signifying that her interests approximated those generally ascribed to men. Here the influence of close association with her father is observed. One of her expressed interests was that of music, but music fell into a ter-tiary pattern. In vocational guidance work, the counselor would encourage her to use music as a hobby and enter some other field more closely related to her primary interests. With her natural tendency to acquiesce to the wishes of her superiors, she may be able to adjust without resulting tensions to any work for. which she has aptitude. For Sister 2, if one were interested in test findings as a means of assisting young religious to adjust to the active part of their life, it might be advisable to retest her to ascertain whether or not any change of interests has occurred because of her close association with women. 135 SISTER M. DIGNA Review for Religious Sister 3, who was formerly Student III, is an example of how high intelligence and wise direction has resulted in a well-adjusted religious who definitely was faced with a serious fam!ly problem. With an ACE score that ranked her very high among college fresh-men, Sister 3 had both the spiritual outlook and the necessary in-sight tO give her a clear understanding of her problem. The Min-nesota Personality Scale indicated that her total score in the area of home and family relations placed her in the lower fourth percentile. This was very low. However, her other scores showed that she was socially apt and rather emotionally stable. She had developed spir-itual insights rather rare in students because she had spent her high school years under the guidance of a good spiritual director. With her natural qualifications and her confidence in God, Sister 3 is a good example of an individual who overcomes obstacles to the serenity and peace so essential to religious life. To illustrate further th'e possibilities of test results as one means for insuring a better adjustment, the records of Student IV, now Sister 4, were evaluated. This student had an unusually high score on the American Council Psychological Examination. She belonged. to a good Catholic family of five or six children. Her profile per-centiles on the personality test were: morale, very high; social rela-tions, low; family and home relations, high; and emotionality, very low. Her emotionality score in this profile may indicate that Sister 4 will need wise guidance and warm understanding. Her low average in social relations coupled with a low score in emotionality demon-strates inner tensions which may be due to a sense of inferiority or to an inclination to scrupulosity. An adequate analysis of the problem, the conflict, or the complex (be it a sense of inferiority, scrupulosity, or work dissatisfaction) will often ~eveal satisfactory courses of action for dealing with it. In young religious, it is important that faulty emotional s'tates do not become fixed. Usually such fac-tors are not rectified easily in middle life, but ordinarily these prob-lems can be corrected in young people. Hence in the case of this Sister some definite follow-up testing may be required, unless supe-riors have considerable time to devote to Sister 4 in order to help her overcome some rather dangerous natural tendencies and to supplant them with the supernatural motives of humility, confidence in God, and obedience" to spiritual directors. How do test results aid in such instances? They point out emotional states that .perhaps a gay exterior hides very successfully, and this very attempt to inhibit worries and anxieties should be avoided. 136 Mag, 1950 PSYCHOMETRICS Student V, or Sister 5, ranked in the lower one-third of the psy-chological examination. The personality profile would lead one to predict that this young woman would have considerable difficulty in adjusting as her score in the area of social relations was very low, implying that she is socially inept and is undersocialized with feelings of inferiority. In religion, she may be characterized as "unworldly" whereas she is definitely anti-social. Undoubtedly, religious life will be a decided asset in helping this Sister to overcome her sense of inferiority and social ineptness if she is helped to under-stand that her attitude toward externs is not necessarily a virtue but a personality defect. By working with this young woman, a supe-rior or another Sister may help her to see the introverted tendencies, not as commendable virtues, but as personality defects. Unworldli-hess should be based upon the supernatural life and not upon per-sonality disorders. The next four sets of records concern young women who entered religious life, but either withdrew or were asked to withdraw. The test results, if these had been used in a predictive manner, might have been means of guarding communities against accepting applicants who were very likely unable to adjust. Two of these young women might have been directed into other communities where their adjust-ment might have been more easily made. The profiles of Students VI and VII might have been interpreted to predict a poor adjustment or none at all. The score on the psychological examination of Student VI placed her in the lower five per cent of the high-school graduates who were going to college. This student would have had a difficult task in getting admitted into any college. Her scores on the Minnesota Personality Scale were as follows: morale, zero; social relations, low; home and family relations, very low; emotionality, very low; and economic conservatism, exceptionally low. Her low morale pre-dicted that superiors would have a difficult time to help her achieve a spiritual outlook on obedience. The fact that her intelligence was low would explain an additional difficulty--she would be incapable of any deep insight into her own personal limitations. The score in the area of family relations suggests that her home life had been unhappy. Superiors will need to scrutinize and to watch the motives of any candidate whose home life has been entirely unhappy, as the applicant, though totally unconscious of it herself, may be using religious life as an escape mechanism. The emotionality score would predict that this young woman will need the help of a psychiatrist in 137 SISTER M. DIGNA Reoieu~ ~or Religious adapting herself to normal living in the world let alone within con-ventual wails. Her low score in the area of economic conservatism indicates that she has pronounced tendencies toward a radical way of life. One may say that since this student was not very intelligent, she was unable to understand the test questions and, consequently, the results may be spurious. Even were that true, then the objection could be raised that that in itself would be sufficient reason for rejecting her since she would be unable to comprehend the duties and responsibilities of religious life. Her test score, however, indicated that sloe would fall among the low average of the total population, which is not an indication that she was a moron. Low average intelligence is no barrier to getting along in the world, and it may not be so for the convent; but supplemented by her personality traits, it would be a poor hazard for religious communities to accept an applicant whose intelligenc.e and personality traits were similar to that of Student VI's. Student VII entered the candidature of a community, but she remained there only a short time. From her personality test, one might have predicted a difficult adjustment because of her person-ality traits. Although her intelligence score ranked her in the upper fifty per cent of college students, or average, her personality profile showed that she would have difficulty. Both the scores attained in morale and social adjustment were very low: her family relations were average; her emotionality was also very low, and her economic conservatism was low. The prediction based on these results would be that the probability of Student VII adjusting to any community life is very slight. Two students who entered religious life without persevering might be representative of applicants seeking admission into the wrong type of community. Both young women had intelligence scores which ranked them in the upper third of the college freshmen in the country. The personality profile of one followed this pattern: morale, very high; social adjustment, average; family relations, very low; and emotionality, very high. This applicant may have had potentialities for developing into a good religious if her motives for entrance were 'supernatural, but the low score in family relations stresses the fact that unhappy home conditions may have exerted ~ressure in sending this girl into the convent. Apparently, she never revealed the home conflict to any one, but instead compensated by creating a fantastic family life for herself. Her overdrawn picture of her home led superiors and companions to question the honesty of 138 Mar , 1950 PSYCHOMETRICS the girl. She was asked to withdraw. The other student also ranked in the upper third of those tested throughout the country on ¯ the ACE. Her personality profile pointed to very high scores in all are'as; morale, social adjustment, family relations, emotionality, and economic conservatism. One may conclude that her high social score suggests that she does not like to be alone, or, more serious in its implications for religious life, that she may be flighty and unstable. ¯ If she is one who is definitely the extrovert type and wishes to con-secrate herself to God, she might be directed to an active order rather than to a community that emphasizes the contemplative life. This student, who withdrew from religious life of her own accord, still feels she has a vocation. This attempt to illustrate the predictive possibilities of psy-chometrics in a program for the recruitment and training of subjects for religious life is necessarily only exploratory in nature. If com-munities would develop even. a very simple testing program and exchange their findings, it might be possible at some future date to devise a definite type of measuring instrument to assess personalities, attitudes, and interests in terms of fitness for religious life. First, however, a certain antagonism which exists against the use of tests needs to be broken down. " Then communities may need to train one or more of their personnel in the construction and use of tests. The barrier is not insurmountable, for'a simple in-service program for those who are now responsible for the admission, retention, and training of young religious can be established. In a short time com-munities may discover further possibilities in the use of psycho-metrics, not as an only means, but as one aid for screening and devel-oping religious. A thorough understanding of the factors that make for better adjustment in religious life may pay off spiritual dividends that will insure better adjusted religious seeking God through self-purification and through work and prayer. "Summer Sessions (Continued from P. 130) Divine Revelation, by Leo A. Coressel, S.3.; and The Church of Christ, by Ph'ilip T. Derrig, S.3. Session will also include institutes on: Remedial Reading, Guidance Program, and Communication Skills. ,June 9 to August 3. For further information write to: Director of Summer Session, The Creighton University, Omaha 2, Nebraska. 139 Lay Religious and !:he Laws ot: Bishops on Cont:ession Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ALL RELIGIOUS realize that they are subject to the universal laws of the Church enacted for religious. These laws are found in the Code of Canon Law and also in the instructions, decrees, and replies that have emanated from the Holy See since the promulgation of the Code.1 Religious are also subject to the local Ordinaries to the extent determined by canon law (canon 500, § 1). The local Ordinaries may exercise their authority over religious not only by particular directions or precepts but also by law. Subjection to a law creates also an obligation of acquiring a knowledge of the law, and this obligation is especially incumbent on religious superiors. The laws of the local Ordinaries are called particular laws, since their obligation is usually restricted to a partic.ular territory. The universal laws of the Code are of obligation everywhere for the Latin Church. These particular laws may be enacted by the individual Ordinary for his diocese or by many Ordinaries united in a council. In the United States the laws of the Second and Third Plenary Councils of Baltimore are of obligation in the entire country.2 The bishops of a particular ecclesiastical province may also unite in a provincial council and legislate for all the dioceses of the province. In a diocese the sole legislator is the bishop, who may make his laws in a synod or outside the time of a synod. About eighty dioceses of the United States have modern and printed diocesan legis-lation, published in book form and "obtainable from the respective chanceries. These diocesan statutes are almost universally in Latin, but an English translation, at least of the principal articles, is some-times appended. The purpose of this article is. to give Brothers, nuns, and Sisters an idea of the types of laws concerning confession of 1The practical way of studying such documents published to the end of 1948 is from T. L. Bouscaren, S.J., The Canon Law Digest, 2 vols. and 1948 Supplement (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Company). Later documents can be found in ecclesiastical periodicals. 2Acta et Decreta Concilii Plenarii Baltimorensis II. (Baltimore: John Murphy, 1868). Acta et Decreta Concilii Plenarii Baltimorensis III. (Baltimore: John Murphy, 1886). 140 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF I~ISHOP£ the various dioceses and councils of this country that have been estab-lished for them or are of practical interest to them. I. General Norms Bishops promulgate their laws in the diocesan synod, the diocesan newspaper, at the conferences or retreats of priests, in pastoral letters, in the diocesan ordo, and in circular letters. From the very nature of law, the bishop wills that religious obtain a knowledge of any law that he has enacted for them. This is the reason for the common precept of diocesan statutes that the faithful are to be instructed in all diocesan laws that affect the laity. Some diocesan statutes explic-itly command all religious of both sexes to acquire a satisfactory knowledge of both the universal and the particular law concerning religious.3 It has also been established in a few dioceses that supe-riors are to have the laws and letters of the Ordinary that affect religious read publicly4 or explaineds in the religious houses. Reli-gious houses should thus possess either the complete diocesan statutes: or a list of at least the statutes that affect religious. Every religious house should also have a file under the beading of the diocese or the. local Ordinary. In this file all letters of the Ordinary that are in any way legislative in character should be preserved. Precepts or instruc-tions of a permanent nature given orally by the Ordinary should be reduced to writing and enclosed in the same file. This will help to. prevent the misunderstanding that is always a danger in. a mere oral expression of law, precept, or instruction, and it will also place this necessary knowledge at the disposal of future superiors. One or two. dioceses have commanded that all public documents concerning the relations between the diocese and the religious should be shown to the local Ordinary at the quinquennial visitation.6 II. Ordinar~t Confessors (canon 520, § I) Canon 520, § 1 commands that an ordinary confessor be appointed for.every house of religious women. Relying on a reply of the Holy See given before the Code of Canon Law, some authors have held that there is no obligation of appointing an ordinary con-fessor for small houses that number less than six Sisters. This is 3Fargo 158; Acta et Decreta Concilii Provincialis Portlandensis in Oregon Quarti 171. The councils and dioceses cited in this and the following footnotes are in-tended as examples, not as a complete enumeration. Unless otherwise indicated the numbers with regard to councils and dioceses always refer to paragraph numbers. 4Fargo 155; Port. Ore. Prov. 169; Trenton 108. SPort. Ore. Prov. 7: Richmond 69. 6port. Ore. Prov. 170: Trenton 109. 141 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reuiew [or Religious contrary to the better interpretation of the canon, since it is not in accord with the general wording of the canon nor with private inter-pretations given by the Holy See. The consequences of such a doctrine are also not desirable. Such small convents constitute a sizable fraction of the communities of a diocese. These convents are at least very frequently located in small and isolated towns, wh~re the only priest is the pastor. The pastor, since he exercises authority over the parish school and is well known to the Sisters, is not a desirable priest as confessor. The isolated location of so many of these communities would make the approach to another confessor most difficult. The evident intent of the Code is to give Sisters as much liberty and facility for confession as possible, but the opinion stated above would give many communities of Sisters almost no liberty or facility for confession. The Bishop of Belleville explic-itly states in his law that ordinary confessors must also be appointed for small houses.7 III. Obligations of Ordinary and Extraordinary Confessors (canons 520, § 1 and 521, § I) Diocesan law universally and insistently inculcates the obliga-tions of ordinary and extraordinary confessors of Brothers, nuns, and Sisters. The bishops demand that all ordinary confessors hear the confessions of tbelr communities once a week, on a suitable day and hour, agreed upon with the superior. One diocese has enacted that the ordinary confessor must never allow a second week to pass with-out hearing the confessions of the community to which be has been assigned,s The laws of another diocese oblige the ordinary confessor of religious women to report to the Ordinary if, for any cause, he has not fulfilled his duties for one month.9 At least two bishops state that wilful neglect of this duty can constitute serious matter.1° The following law is especially practical and opportune: "The ordinaries [i. e. ordinary confessors] of the Sisters are exhorted to be most zealous and self-sacrificing in giving ample opportunity to the Sis-ters, especially to those in isolated localities, of going to confes-sion.' ul The failure of the ordinary confessor to appear in convents in isolated localities causes an almost insoluble difficulty. The canonical solution is that the superioress should summon one of the supplementary confessors, but very few dioceses either in their statutes 7Belleville 34. 8Des Moines 81. 9Toledo 79. 10Davenport 32; Nashville 92. 11Davenport 32: Nashville 92: Owensboro 47. The italics in this and subsequent citations are mine. 142 Ma~t, 1950 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS or diocesan faculties have appointed supplementary confessors. The extraordinary confessor may reside at a great distance, and the reli-gious are rightfully hesitant to call on him constantly. The next effort at a solution is for the superioress to make the use of occa-sional confessors as easy as possible, but the very nature of an iso-lated community reduces this solution to legal theory. The pastor is at least very frequently the only priest in the place,.and the work of the Sisters and the isolation of the town may make travel to another town a practical impossibility. It is also true that places at no great distance from large cities can be practically isolated. Equal fidelity is imposed by diocesan law on the extraordinary confessors, who are to perform their duties four times a year, prefer-ably during the Ember weeks. The bishops emphasize that confessors of religious are to fulfill their duties with a conscientious regard for the direction of souls towards the higher life of christian perfection. As means to this end diocesan law quite generally commands the ordinary and extraordi-nary confessors of religious to devote themselves intensively to the study of moral, ascetical, and mystical theology, of the common law of the Code concerning religious, and of the constitutions of the par-ticular institute.12 A careful reading of the canons on religious will show that very few of them directly affect the daily lives of religious. The obligation of these laws is usually incumbent on stiperiors. Modern constitutions also do not give many norms of the spiritual life. In the present practice of the Holy See constitutions are com-posed in great part of canons and other legal articles that the Sacred Congregation of Religious demands. It will, therefore, be oftentimes much more practical for the confessor to study the spiritual directory, ~scetical summary, or custom book of the institute rather than its constitutions. An exaggerated idea of secrecy must not prevent the superior from giving these books to the confessor. IV. Special Ordinary Confessors (canons 520, § 2; 528) The Bishop of Wheeiing states very clearly the sane norm of 12Confessors will find the following books helpful for a study of the laws that gov-ern lay institutes: IDom Pierre Bastien, O.S.B., Directoire Canoniqt~e a l'usage des Congregations ~ Voeux Simples (Bruges: Ch. Beyaert, 4th edition, 1933): Creu-sen- Ellis, Religious Men and Women in the Code (Milwaukee: The Bruce Pub-lishing Company, 3rd English edition, 1940); Rev. Fintan Geser, O.S.B., The Canon Law Governim3 Communities of Sisters (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1938) : Rev. Bernard Acken, S.3., A Handbook for Sisters (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1931). Bastien is especially helpful, since he also treats the legal articles that originate from the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. 143 ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoiew ~Cor Religious conduct in this respect: "All Religious are admonished to use this privilege of requesting a special confessor only for their spiritual good and greater progress in religious virtues, apart from all human con-siderations. Should a special confessor perceive that there is no need of him, let him dismiss the Religious prudently."'13 The special con-fessor himself 'is in the best position to judge whether his work is necessary or proportionately useful. He should observe the prudent norm of the law quoted above also at the time that the religious asks him to be a special confessor. It is frequently possible for a priest to realize at the time of the petition that the particular religious will not profit by having a special confessor. It is even possible to encounter a religious who asks for a special confessor and yet has no idea of the purpose of such a confessor. It is not unknown for a reli-gious to be under the impression that all religious should have a spe-cial director. Even priests can be imbued with the same principle. Spiritual books and maxims can be misunderstood in this matter. V. Supplementarg Confessors (canon 521, § 2) Canon 521, § 2 commands the local Ordinaries to appoint at least two supplementary confessors available for each convent of reli-gious v~omen in their dioceses. These confessors may be summoned in particular cases for one or more Sisters or even for the entire com-munity, for example, in the absence of the ordinary confessor. The extraordinary confessor of the commuhity is always to be considered also a supplementary confessor. As has been stated above, very few dioceses mention the supplementary confessors either in their statutes or diocesan faculties, but their appointment can be and oftentimes is made by other means.In some dioceses all the pastors as well as all ordinary and extraordinary confessors of religious women are the supplementaries for all convents of the diocese.14 Harrisburg assigns this office to all pastors of the episcopal city and of each deanery for the religious women of that particular district.~s Other dioceses men-tion that the supplementaries will be announced in opportune time by the 10ca1 Ordinary.~6 VI. Occasional Confessors of Religious Women (canon 522) Sisters are well aware that, for peace of conscience, they may go to confession in any legitimately designated place to any confessor ~3Wheeling p. 52. ~4Buffalo, Dubuque, Peoria, Pueblo. The diocese of Des Moines has the same but excludes the pastor. 15Harrisburg 27. 16port. Ore. Prov. 188: Trenton 112. 144 ' Ma~ , 1950 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS approved for women. Diocesan law usually merely reaffirms the canon in this matter. However, there is a reminder that the right given by canon 522 does not free anyone from the observance of. religious discipline.17 VII. Place for the Confessions of Religious Women (canons 522, 909-910) The Code of Canon Law prescribes that the confessional for Sisters should ordinarily be placed in their chapel and that their con-fessions are not to be heard outside the confessional, except in case of sickness or real necessity, and with the observance of the precimtions prescribed by the local Ordinary. It is admitted that there can more readily be a justifying cause for placing the confessional of Sisters outside the chapel, for example, in the sacristy, a room adjoining the chapel, or some other convenient room. It is forbidden to hear the confessions of women and also of religious women outside of the con-fessional except for reason of sickness, weakness of old age, deafness, the probable danger of a sacrilegious confession or of seriou~ infamy, and for other reasons of like import. When a place is to be destined habitually for the confessions of Sisters, it should be designated by the authority of the local Ordinary or according to the norms that he has established. Diocesan law may command that it be designated by the local Ordinary.18 At such times as retreats it is frequently necessary to erect additional movable confessionals in the convents of Sisters, and practically always these confessionals are outside the chapel. " The designation of such temporary places of confession may be made by the superioress or the confessor. The Second Plenar~ Council of Baltimore~9 and diocesan law in general in the United States rigidly enforce the canonical prescriptions on the place for the confessions of women. One diocese has enacted a reserved suspension against confessors who violate these norms,2° and in some other dio-ceses a confessor is liable to a suspension for the same violation3~ For hearing confessions within the papal cloister of nuns of sol-emn vows the Holy See has prescribed the following precautions: "Two nuns shall accompany the confessor to the cell of the sick nun and shall wait there before the open door of the cell while the priest hears the confession, and accompany him again when he returns to IZ'Port. Ore. Prov. 183. ISSavannah-Atlanta 51. WConc. Plen. Bait. II, 295-296. 20Cheyenne I, 109, 115. 21Philadelphia 31: Pittsburgh 119, 1: Scranton 52, 2. 22Sacred Congregation of Religious, February 6, 1924. Cf. Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, p. 318. 145 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review/or Religious the monastery gate.''22 Some diocesan statutes also prescribe that the door is to be left op.en while the .confession of any sick woman is being heard,va It is evident that the door is to be closed if there is any danger whatever of the confession being overheard. This excep-tion is also stated in diocesan law. The emphasis on place with regard to the occasional confessor of religious women has caused at times the error that the legitimate place is required for the oaliditg of any confession of women or at least of religious women. Place as such is required only for the liceity of the confession. Therefore, the legitimate place is not required for valid-ity in the case of the ordinary, special ordinary, extraordinary, or supplementary confessors of religious women. The same is true of any confessor wbb already possesses special jurisdiction over the reli-gious woman whose confession be is to bear, for example, a retreat master. It is certain from a reply of the Code Commission that the legitimate place is required for the validity of confession to an occa-sional confessor of religious women, not by reason of ~itself, but simply because the Code has made it one of the two essential condi-tions for gi~;ing him jurisdiction over the religious woman whose confession be is to hear and which be otherwise lacks. Even in this case there will be little fear in practice of an invalid confession. If the confessor has even probably and according to his prudent judg-ment any of the reasons listed above that justify the hearing of the confessions of women outside of the place of the confessional, the confession will be certainly valid. VIII. Opportunitg [or Confession (canon 892) Diocesan law in general reaffirms canon 892, which obliges pas-tors and all priests who have the care of souls to hear the confessions of the faithful in their charge whenever they reasonably ask to be beard. The bishops state that there are to be fixed days for confes-sion, which are not necessarily to be confined to Saturday but are to include as many days as are necessary for the particular church.24 Other fixed days are the vigils of feasts and the day before First Fri-day. Several dioceses command that confessions be heard before Mass on Sundays, holydays, and First Fridays, but these confessions must not be permitted to delay the beginning of Mass. Confessions are also to be beard at the reasonable petition of the faithful outside of tbes~ fixed times. 23Buffalo 73; Pueblo 148. 24Cf. Conc. Plen. Balt. II, 291. 146 May, 1950 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS A second and sufficiently large class of diocesan statutes prescribes that confessions are to be heard before and even after daily Mass in the parish churches.2s It seems strange that diocesan law, which has granted the daily opportunity of confession t6 the very pious faithful who attend daily Mass, has not extended a similar facility to reli-gious. One diocese has given the daily opportunity of confession to religious.2~ This singularity is intensified by the fact that the basic reason for the greater opportunity of confession could ~not have been unknown to diocesan legislators. Cardinal Glennon stated in his statutes of 1929: "It is clearer than the noonday sun that our Holy Mother Church, in favoring the frequent reception of Holy Com-munion, by that very fact demands that the faithful be given a fre-quent opportunity of confession even on weekdays.''27 It will be of interest to study the documents of the Holy See con-cerning the greater opportunity to be giv.en to religious for confes-sion. The first pertinent document is the Code of Canon Law itself, which in canon 595, § 1, 3° does not say that religious are to be given the opportunity of confession once a week but at least once a weeh. Th~ second document is the Reserved Instruction on Daily Communion and Precautions to be taken against Abuses.2s The instruction opens with a general section, which applies also to reli-gious. In this section the Sacred Congregation first reaffirms the principle of Cardinal Glennon: "Together with frequent Commun-ion, frequent confession also must be promoted.''29 The Sacred Con-gregation then speaks of the daily opportunity of confession before Mass: " . . but that the faithful who live in communities should not only go to confession on stated days but should be free to go, without any remarks from their Superior, to a confessor of their own choice, and, what is especially important, that they should have the opportunity to mahe a confession also shortly before the time of Communion.''~° The text of these words shows evidently that they apply also to religious. In the very next paragraph the Holy See reaffirms the same principles: "Accordingly Pastors of souls must make every effort to provide in each community, according to the 25Belleville 111; Boston 75; Brooklyn 175: Charleston 95; Evansville 71; Gal-veston p. 34; Indianapolis 69: Lincoln p. 35; Natchez 128: Paterson 155: Trenton 173. 26Raleigh 54. 27St. Louis 75. 28Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments, December 8, 1938. The complete English translation can be found in Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, II, pp. 208-215. 29Instruction II~ 2: Bouscaren II, p. 210. 30Instruction, ibid.: Bouscaren, ibid. 147 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious number of members, one or two confessors to whom each one may freely go. They must keep in mind the rule that, where frequent and dail~l Communion is in vogue, frequent and dail~l opportunitg for sacramental confession as far as that is possible, must also be afforded."zl The last pertinent document is the new list of questions for the quinquennial report to the Holy See, where we find the question: "'Do Superiors diligentlq see to it that confessors be easil~l available before Communion . . . ?32 This question refers to all classes of reli-giotis institutes approved by the Holy See. The Sacred Congregation of Religious could not reasonably ask religious superiors whether they were providing confessors before Communion unless, in some sense at least, it was incumbent upon superiors to make such provision. The do.ctrine of more frequent opportunity for confession, con, sequent upon the instruction quoted above, is not unknown in can-onical commentaries. Thus one author states universally: "Wherever frequent or daily Communion is practiced, adequate opportunity for sacramental confession must be provided frequently, i. e. at least two or three times a week.''3~ This opinion was written before the pub-lication of the new questions of the quinquennial report added greater weight to the doctrine on frequent opportunity for confes-sion, at least with regard to religious. The following conclusions appear to be evident: 1) It is at least the desire of the Holy See that local Ordinaries and religious supe-riors provide, as far as they can conveniently do so, an opportunity for confession before daily Mass to religious, and especially to Brothers, nuns, and Sisters. The greater necessity with regard to lay institutes arises from the fact that confessors reside in the houses of clerical institutes. 2) As a general norm, the priest who says the daily Mass in houses of Brothers, nuns, and Sisters is the one to give this opportunity. It would be incredible that the Holy See did not realize that this priest is ordinarily the only confessor who can be in the religious house, with any convenience, at the time of daily Mass. 3) The instruction quoted above warrants a wide interpretation of canon 522, which treats of the occasional confessor of religious women. Such a confessor may not only enter the confessional before 31Instruction II, 2, a); Bouscaren, ibid. 32The List of Questions for Religious Institutes and Societies of Pontifical Right (Rome: Polyglot Printing Press, 1949), q. 85. 33J. N. Stadler, Frequent Holg Communion (Washington: The Catholic University of America Press, Inc., 1947), p. 134. 148 May, 1950 by the confessor. 4) should provide at least tunity of confession. able. 5) The time of confessions. LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS daily Mass when he is requested to do so by the superior or one or more of the religious but he may himself spontaneously enter the confessional at this time.34 The daily opportunity of confession is at least a directive of the Holy See and may thus be licitly introduced The designation of the place for confession one place that is suitable for the daily oppor- The chapel will very frequently not be suit-the daily Mass should not be delayed by such The practice of the daily opportunity of confession must also be commended because of its intrinsic merit. Many religious will occa-sionally take advantage of the opportunity and there will be no rea-son whatever to notice the religious who believes that he must go to confession before Communion. Some very highly esteemed authors have advised eliminationof precedence in receiving Communion, that the abstention from Communion by a particular religious might not be noticedP5 If the daily opportunity of confession is given, there will be no need of abstention from Communion. Furthermore, the efficacy of the elimination of precedence for this purpose, at least in the United States, can be very seriousl3) doubted. A glance at the Catholic Directory reveals at once that by far the greatest number of " religious houses is composed of convents of Sisters. I believe it also safe to assert that about two-thirds of these convents contain fifteen or less Sisters. A study of the number in the convents of four large Eastern dioceses grouped together reveals that 68 per cent of the con-vents contain 15 or less Sisters, 50 per cent have less than 12, and 41 per cent have less than 10. Convent chapels are also usually small. The consequence is that no matter what place the Sister takes in chapel or what order is followed in receiving Communion, her abstention will be very noticeable in the greater number of convents. IX. Mone~ Offerings in the Confessional All confessors in the United States are forbidden by the Second Plenary Council of Baltimore to receive even voluntary money offerings of any nature and for any purpose, including Mass stipends, in the confessional.36 This law is quite generally reaffirmed in dio- 34Cf. Regatillo, lnstitutiones luris Canonici. I, n. 670 to the contrary with re~ard to liceity. ssCf. Bergh, Review for Religious, III (1944) 262-263: Creusen, ibid., VIII (1949) 89-90. ~r'Conc. Plen. Balt. II, 289. 149 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious cesan statutes, which in some dioceses extend the prohibition to offerings made on the occasion of confession. The severity with which the Baltimbre law is urged is manifested by the fact that the" confessor who violates it is punished with a suspension in several dioceses.37 Religious, therefore, should not offer Mass stipends to a priest in the confessional. X. Interference in the Internal and External Government of an Institute of Religious Women (canon 524, §. 3) The prohibition of this interference by canon 524, § 3 directly affects only the ordinary and extraordinary confessors of nuns and Sisters. However, no one, unless properly delegated to do so, may assume or obstruct authority that is legitimately possessed by another. Therefore, from the very nature of the matter, this interference is forbidden to all, clergy or laity. Greater vigilance will be required from those whose office or duties render the transgressions of this pre-cept more possible, such as pastors, chaplains, the special ordinary and supplementary confessors, and retreat masters. The internal government is the authority proper to the superiors of a religious institute.Its object is the order of the day, community and spiritual exercises, the transfer and employments of subjects, permissions, dispensations in disciplinary matters, penances given by superiors, the observance of religious discipline, the admission to the postulancy, novitiate, professions, etc. By external government is meant the relation of the community to external superiors, that is, the Holy See, the local Ordinaries, and regular superiors in the case of nuns subject to regulars. This authority includes such matters as the erection and suppression of religious houses and tbe external activity of the institute. No priest or confessor should intrude his ;:lirections, counsels, and much less his commands in such matters. When asked he may give for the particular case the sense of the obligations of divine or ecclesi-astical law and he may also state what he thinks is the better, the more practical and prudent policy in a particular matter. He may not, however, authoritatively impose his will in these matters. For example, he may not command that the employment of a Sister be changed but he may advise her to ask the superior for such a chfinge. He may recommend a candidate for admission into an institute but he may not command that she be admitted. 37Altoona 41; Harrisburg 40, 1"; Philadelphia 32; Pittsburgh 118, 1"; Wheeling p. 32. 150 May, 1950 LAY RELIGIOUS AND LAWS OF BISHOPS The laws of the bishops of the United States manifest great interest in the protection of the internal government of religious institutes. The bishops adopt primarily a positive attitude by pre-scribing that all priests and especially pastors are, as far as possible, to aid religious in spiritual and temporal necessities and so to arrange matters that the religious may be able to live according to their rule.38 The bishops extend the' prohibition of the Code to all con-lessors, 39 priests?° and especially to chaplains41 and pastors.42 In some dioceses chaplains are-explicitly commanded to abstain scrupu-lously from all public judgment or criticism of the religious or of their actions.43 The avoidance of the appearance of interfering in internal, gov-ernment will oftentimes demand a very delicate and sensitive pru-dence from the confessor and especially from the chaplain. Sisters should aid and not obstruct priests in the fulfillment, of their obli-gation. It would be profitable for some religious to recall that they are obliged to fulfill not merely the directions of superiors of which they approve, that the directions of which they do not approve do not by that very fact constitute matter for appeal to the confessor or chaplain, that in the presentation of any grievance to a priest they use care to give not only the facts and arguments for themselves but also those against themselves, and, finally, if they repeat to others the advice of a priest, they are to use scrupulous care to repeat his advice accurately and completely. The priest in these matters is in a defenceless position. It is possible for a confessor or a priest to have some false prin-ciples in this matter. He should never verify the plaint of one mother general: "You would think that all confessors believed that all superioresses were always wrong." The presumption of the con-fessor should be that the superior is right; the contrary is to be proven. Otherwise he brings to the confessional a principle that is at least obstructive of authority. Sympathy for penitents is a most laudable and Christlike virtue in a confessor but it should not blind ¯ 38Fargo 160, 1; Lincoln p. 23; Natchez 275; New Orleans 275, 310; St. 30- seph 33. 39Fargo 160, 1; Indianapolis 46, 2: Los Angeles 64: Salt. Lake 47: San Fran-cisco 115; Savannah-Atlanta 50; Wheeling p. 53. 40Fort Wayne 158: Harrisburg 26: Los Angeles 64: Port. Ore. Prov. 179. 41Dubuque 68; Evansville 45: Fargo 137; Indianapolis 44: Nashville 68 (b); Omaha 104, 1"; Pueblo 68; San Francisco 108: Toledo 71. 42Fargo 160, 1: Nashville 68 (a) ; Salt Lake 47: San Francisco 115. 43Fargo 137; Omaha 104, 1". 151 ~OSEPH F. GALLEN him to the truth that a great many people are not good witnesses in a matter of self-interest. A very brief experience in the priesthood, if thoughtful, will reveal that personal difficulties have at least the tendency to focus the light on favorable facts and arguments and to leave in shadow and darkness the contrary facts and arguments. It is also to be presumed in matters of external conduct that superiors have a much more complete and accurate knowledge of the subject than the confessor. It is likewise to be realized that the discontented, insubordinate, and factious religious very frequently and eagerly seeks to ally priests to her cause. She does not always fail, and the accurate measure of her success is all too often and lamentably the consequent loss in religious discipline, unity, and obedience. Finally, the confessor must never forget that his primary norm is to direct a religious penitent to Christian perfection. If we take the example 6f a difficulty with a superior and suppose the confessor is certain that the superior is in error or even bad faith, the advice of the confessor should not always be to stand up for one's rights or to appeal the matter to a higher superior. The norm of perfection will very fre- quently be to submit to such an action of a superior at least with resignation; the higher degrees of perfection are to submit with glad-ness and joy, and even with desire. XI. Chaplains as Confessors (canon 522) Four or five dioceses forbid a chaplain to hear the confessions of the Sisters of the convent, unless he has the special jurisdiction requi-site for religious women. The sense of this prohibition must be that the chaplain is not to obt.rude on the duties and rights of the ordinary confessor, siiace canon law gives to any priest approved for the con-fessions of women the right of being validly and licitly the occa-sional confessor of any religious woman. Such a prohibition will also in practice not be in conformity with the daily opportunity for confession explained above. our CONTRIBUTORS RICHARD LEO HEPPLER is chaplain at the Novitiate of the Franciscan Broth-ers of Brooklyn. C. A. HERBST and LEO A. CORESSEL are members of the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. SISTER M. DIGNA is professor of psy-chology at the College of St. Scholastica, Duluth, Minnesota. ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. 152 .uesUons and Answers .~13~ Our constitutions prescribe that the Little Office of the Blessed Virgln be recited in common every day. (I) Must the common recitation be in Latin7 (2) If one is absent from the common recitation, is one obliged to recite that part of the office privately? (3) May one who is obliged to recite the Little Office privately do so in English? (4) Must the external rubrics (lowering of the sleeves, prostrations, and the like) be observed when one says the Office by oneself? (1) Unless the constitutions prescribe otherwise, religious who are bound to the recitation 0f the Little Office by reason" of their con-stitutions only, may recite or chant the Little Office in common in the vernacular, provided an approved translation be used. (2) The obligation of reciting or chanting the Little Office imposed by the Constitutions per se rests on the community, not on the individual. Hence if a religious is absent from the common reci-tation of the Little Office he is not obliged to recite it privately unless the constitutions or custom require him to do so. (3) When the constitutions prescribe that the Little Office must be recited in common in Latin, those who are excused from the com-mon recitation but still obliged by the constitutions to recite it pri-vately may recite it in the vernacular unless the constitutions pre-scribe otherwise. (4) In the private recitation of the Little Office the rubrics (kneeling, st'anding, and the like) need not be observed--much less such customs as are mentioned by way of example in this question. We may add a word here about the requirements for gaining the indulgences attached to the recitation of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. (a) When the Little Office is recited publicly it must be recited in Latin in order to gain the indulgences. But when it is recited privately the indulgence may be gained for the recitation in th~ vernacular (S. Cong., Indulg., 28 aug., 1903). (b) The recitation of the Little 'Office of the Blessed Virgin is considered private (as far as indulgences are concerned) even though it is recited in common by a religious community, provided that it is recited within the walls of the religious house, or even in the church or public oratory with the doors closed (S. Cong. Indulg. 18 dec., 1906). Additional informa-tion regarding the Little Office may be found in an article entitled "The Little Office of Our Lady" in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Jallu-ary 1947, p. 18. 153 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religiohs 14 In order to obtain the plenary indulcjence at the moment of death attached to the so-called "happy death" crucifixes, is it necessary that the dylncj person hold the crucifix in his hand, or is it sufficient that it be attached to his person in some other way? The answer to this question is contained in a declaration of the Sacred Penitentiary given June 23, 1929, in the following words: "Anyone of the faithful being at the point of death, who shall kiss such a blessed crucifix, even if it does not belong to him, or who shall touch it in any way, provided that having gone to confession and received Holy Communion, or if unable to do so, being at least con-trite, he shall have invoked the Most Holy Name of Jesus by pro-nouncing it if he could, or if not, by devoutly invoking it in his heart, and who shall patienffy accept death from the hand of God as the wages of sin, shall be able to gain a plenary indulgence." [Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 21 (1929), 510]. It may be helpful to our readers to recall that this indulgence for the dying is one of the few that may be gained ?or oneseff outside of Rome during the Holy Year of 1950. IS What is to be said of the policy of lay rellcjious superiors (Brothers and Sisters) who forbid their subjects to fast durincj Lent and at other times when the law of the Church prescribes fastincj? Several points need to be recalled before this question can be clearly and satisfactorily answered. 1. Theologians and canonists speak of tWoodifferent standards of fasting, absolute and relative. Both standards allow only one full meal a day (dinner), which may be taken about noon or in the eve-ning. This is the only meal at which meat is allowed. The differences between the two standards concern the other two meals, breakfast and lunch (supper). These differences are described as follows in Theological Studies, March, 1949, pp. 93-94: "According to the absolute norm, there is a fixed limit for these repasts, which limit applies to everyone. This limit has been tradi-tionally phrased in terms of two and eight ounces, but these are merely moral estimates, and it is certainly safe to describe the abso-lute norm as allowing 'two or three' ounces for breakfast and 'eight or ten' ounces for lunch. "The essence of the relative norm is that it allows to some.ektent for varying individual needs." Each one is allowed what he needs at 154 Mag, 1950 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS breakfast and lunch in order to preserve his health and do his work. However, even the most ardent proponents of this norm agree that it has some limit. They agree that the combined quantity of the two minor repasts must not equal a second full meal; and they usually agree that it should fall notably short of this quantity, for example, sixteen to twenty ounces. But it should be noted that they allow this quantity to be divided, according to individual needs, between the breakfast and supper; they do not set a hard and fast rule that allows only a meager breakfast. "Quantity is the primary difference between the absolute and relative norms, but not the only difference, particularly as regards breakfast. Though some explanations of the absolute norm are ~ather vague as to quality, it is rather commonly said that the break-fast is limited to 'bread and coffee or some other drink.' According to the relative standard, the only universal qualitative limit is that meat may not be taken at breakfast or lunch." 2. The law of fasting applies to all the faithful who have com-pleted their twenty-first year and who have not yet begun their six-tieth year. However, the law is not intended to impose an extra-ordinary hardship or to defeat a greater good; hence those who can-not fast without extraordinary hardship for themselves or others or without interfering with the duties of their state of life are excused from fasting. The very first number of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (I, 42-46) contained a full explanation of these excusing causes, especially as they might apply to religious. .The canon law gives the power of dispensing from fasting to local ordinaries, pastors, and superiors of exempt clerical orders. Many other priests obtain the same power by delegation from one of these or from the Holy See. A dispensation may be given for any of the reasons usually assigned as excusing causes, and even for a less serious reason. But it may not be given without some good reason. Other priests besides those mentioned in the preceding paragraph cannot give a dispensation from fasting. But when they see that a person is really excused from fasting they may certainly tell him he is not obliged to fast. This may be done also by a prudent layman who knows both the law and the excusing causes. Hence lay reli-gious superiors (Brothers and Sisters) may certainly tell their sub-jects they are not bound to fast when they know that the subjects are excused. This is not an exercise of ecclesiastical jurisdiction; it is simply an unofficial declaration of an existing fact: namely, that an excusing cause is present. 155 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Retffeto for Religious Strictly speaking, there is no obligation to ask for a dispensation when one has a reasonable assurance, based on one's own judgment or on the decision of a competent adviser, that one is excused from fasting. It seems that some religious institutes have a rule or custom to the effect that subjects must always consult their confessors about fasting; but, apart from such special provisions, there seems to be no reason why the confessor must be consulted when one. has a clear excusing cause. 3. It should be obvious from what has been said that the abso-lute standard more readily admits of excuse than does the relative standard. For instance, it seems that comparatively few religious engaged in the active apostolate could fast regularly during Lent according to the absolute standard without hurting their health or their work; whereas a much larger number could safely fast according to the relative standard. Until a few years ago the dioceses of our country consistently enjoined the absolute standard; lately there has been a noticeably growing tendency to establish the relative standard. We presume that the question we have been asked to answer refers to conditions existing under the absolute standard of fasting; and our answer is based on that supposition. Now, to answer the question: A lay superior may make a pru-dent judgment that a subject is excused from fasting; and, granted this prudent judgment, he may counsel the subject not to fast. Moreover, the superior may even order the subject n~t to fast if an order is necessary. In this case the superior does not command the subject to.disobey the law of the Church; for in the supposition that an excusing cause exists the subject is not bound by the law. The superior may exercise this power of discretion and authority with regard to any subject who is excused from the law of fasting. Ordinarily, however, he should be content with counseling the sub-ject not to fast; the use of a command would seldom be advisable. Moreover, the superior should not act arbit[arily. It may be true that under the absolute standard of fasting the greater part of a com-munity would be excused from fasting, but this would not justify a policy of telling the whole community they are excused from fasting. Some religious can fast without harm to themselves or their work, and the superior has no right to tell them not to do so. The fact that the rigor of the absolute standard made it impos-sible for large numbers of religious to fast seems to have brought about a very undesirable condition in.some pla'ces. There is a ten-dency to look upon religious who do fast as "singular." This is a 156 May, 1950 sorry state of affairs in a religious house. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 16 I have read somewhere that laymen are forbidden to bless. Yet we d6 meet religious groups of nuns where the mother superior imparts a blessing fo her religious, e.cj. after an instruction or after giving a permission to cjo out. Would you kindly explain the nature and value of such a blessing? A distinction must be made between a public blessing, that is, ~ne given in the name of the Church by a duly authorized minister, and a prit, ate blessing, given in the name of the person who does the blessing. -Obviously only one who is a cleric is empowered to bless in the name of the Church. On the other hand there is nothing to forbid a parent to call down God's blessing on his child. That is what a lay religious, superior does when he blesses his subjects according to the directions of the constitutions or by custom. --17-- I have often come across a reference to Caussade, "Sacrament of the Present Moment." Could you tell me where I can find this treatise or book? Perhaps your readers would be interested in the substance of the idea, if it can be put in a few words. Caussade's idea of the "Sacrament of the Present Moment" is thus briefly explained by him in his Abandonment to Divine Provi-dence in Book I, Chapter I, Section II, p. 3: "There are remarkably few extraordinary characteristics in the outward events of the life,of the most holy Virgin, at least there are none recorded in holy Scripture. Her exterior life is represented as very ordinary and simple. She did and suffered the same things that anyone in a similar state of life might do or suffer. She goes to visit her cousin Elizabeth as her other relatives did. She took shelter in a stable in consequence of her poverty. She returned to Nazareth from whence she had been driven by the persecution of Herod, and lived there with Jesus and Joseph, supporting themselves by the work of their hands. It was in this way that the holy family gained their daily bread. But what a divine nourishment Mary and Joseph received from this daily bread for the strengthening of their faith! It is like a sacrament to sanctify all their moments. What treasures of grace lie concealed in these moments filled, apparently, by the most ordinary events. That which is visible might happen to anyone, but the invisible, discerned by faith is no less than God operating very great things. O bread of angels! heavenly manna! pearl of the 157 BOOK NOTICES Review [or Religious Gospel! Sacrament of the present moment! thou givest God under a~ lowly a form as the manger, the hay, or the straw. And to whom dost thou give him? 'esurientes implevit bonis' (Luke 1, 53). God reveals himself to the humble under the most lowly forms, but the proud, attaching themselves entirely to that which is extrinsic, do not discover Him hidden beneath, and are sen.t empty away.'.' (English translation from tenth French Edition, by E. J. Strickland, The Catholic Records Press, Exeter, England, 1921). BOOK NOTICES LIFE AND MIRACLES OF ST. BENEDICT, by St. Gregory the Great, is now published in a new translation by Odo J. Zimmer-mann, O.S.B., and Benedict R. Avery, O.S.B. This excellent trans-lation of a little spiritual classic is the first to appear in twenty-five years. It is the second of the four books of Dialogues of St. Gregory the Great, Pope and Doctor of the Church; and, apart from the famous Rule of St. Benedict, it is the only source we have for the life and character of the founder of Western monasticism. Tile trans-lators have succeeded in preserving the charming simplicity of St. Gregory's account, and the dialogue form gives the author an opportunity of making moral and doctrinal reflections on the miracu-lous events of Benedict's life. Gregory puts into the mouth of Peter, his deacon, questions we all would like to ask: "What an astounding miracle! . , . How is it possible for anyone to see the whole universe at a single glan.ce?" Then Gregory explains the wonderful vision of St. Benedict. This little treasure of spirituality, written primarily to encourage the Italian people in a time of war and devastation, contains an excellent and timely mess~ige for the world today. (Col-legeville, Minn.: St. John's Abbey Press, 1949. Pp, xv q- 87. $2.00 [cloth]; $.90 [paper].) I1qIGO DE LOYOLA, by Pedro Leturia, S.J., portrays the early life of Ifiigo, before he was wounded and converted and set on the jour-ney that led to his using the name of Ignatius and founding th~ Society of Jesus. The work is scholarly and scientific, not popular. The translator is A. J. Owen, S.J. (Syracuse, N. Y.: LeMoyn~ College Press, 1949. Pp, xiii ÷ 209. $4.50.) THE SPII~ITUAL LIFE OF THE PRIEST, by Father M. Eugene Boylan, O.C.R., is a collection of articles which originally appeared 158 May, 1950 BOOK NOTICES in The Priest. Purposely dir.ecting his essays to the American clergy, with American conditions in mind, and with his usual pru-dent and fearless approach, Father Boylan discusses several aspects of a priest's spiritual life in an unmistakably practical way. His pur-pose is to help the priest form an attitude of mind rather than to map out a program. "If that attitude is correct and sincere, and has its roots in a man's heart and in his convictions, he should not have over-much difficulty in planning his own spiritual life with the help of a competent adviser, and adapting his plan, without destroying it, to each set of circumstances." Worthy of special mention is the chapter on clerical celibacy. (Westminster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1949. Pp. 161. $2.50.) SCALE THE HEIGHTS, by Canon Paul Marc (translated by Rev. Joseph A. Fredette), is a collection of brief, meditative essays written to inspire lay persons to seek for perfection. The subjects treated include the Mass, prayer, the use of time, the Blessed Virgin, the value of life. The simplicity and fervor with which the book is written cannot fail to impress the reader; at times, however, an over-charge of emotion mars the effectiveness of some of the chapters. Though written originally for the laity, religious will find the book helpful in appreciating the motives thatshould direct their lives. (New York: Frederick Pustet Co., 1949. Pp. xii + 236. $3.00.) The Church wants Catholics everywhere, even in mission areas, to study the history of the Church in their own locality. Up to now, the lack of a suitable textbook has been a hindrance to such study in the seminaries of the United States. THE CATHOLIC CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES, by Theodore Roemer, O.F.M.Cap., fills this need. At first sight, one would think the organization of the book most artificial, as each chapter covers a ten-year period. But the story r'eads with a sweep and without ever losing sight of the fact that Catholic history in the United States is just a tiny part of the larger story of the Church universal. (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Com-pany, 1950. Pp. viii + 444. $5.00.) FAIR AS THE MOON, by Father M. Oliver, O.Cist.R., is intended to portray "the sweet humanity of our mother." The author makes Our Lady imitable in every respect: as child, as young maiden, as a real mother. He reveals the too often neglected human side of Mary in such a way that it inspires a truly warm, personal love, and com-plements reverential love. (Dublin: M. H. Gill U Son, 1949. Pp. xi q- 235. 12s. 6d.) 159 BOOK NOTICES Reoieto /:or Religious Another book on Our Lady is MARY THE BLESSED THE BE-LOVED, by Father Timothy Harris. It presents in a succinct and readily understandable way the Church's teaching on the Blessed Virgin. A thorough reading of this book will help the ordinary person to grasp the dogmatic foundations of devotion to Our Lady and to disl~inguish what is of faith from what is mere opinion. Each chapter refers to some definite feast or liturgical season. For this reason the book should be useful for special readings about Mary, as well as for sermons and conferences on the occasion of Mary's feasts. (Dublin: Clonmore ~ Reynolds, Ltd., 1949. Pp. 119. 7s. 6d.) Among the latest competent and well-documented volumes that describe the development of individual religious congregations of women are Sister Mary Borromeo Brown's HISTORY OF THE SISTERS OF PROVIDENCE OF ST. MARY-OF-THE-WOODS, Volume I (New York: Benziger Brothers, 1949. Pp. xiii + 826. $6.00), and two volumes on the history of the Congregation of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Monroe, Michigan, by Sister M. Rosalita: No GREATER SERVICE and ACHIEVEMENT OF A CENTURY (Detroit: Evans-Winter-Hebb, Inc., 1948. Pp. xx ÷ 863, and xiii + 299. $15.00 per set). Both congregations are responsible for part of the magnificent development of the Church around the Great Lakes region. All three volumes are decidedly readable and valuable addi-tions to the history of the Church in North America. Those interested in theology for the layman will welcome the publication of GOD AND THE WORLD OF MAN (Pp. viii ÷ 318), by Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C., and THE CHRISTIAN VIRTUES (Pp. xi -k 361), by Charles E. Sheedy, C.S.C. They are the first two volumes of the University of Notre Dame Press religion series. The first volume includes a chapter defining theology and explaining its sources and another chapter on the nature, obligation, rule, and subject matter of faith; and the remainder of the book is given to these tracts of theolbgy: The One God, The Holy Trinity, Creation, The Elevation and Fall, The End of the World'and of Man. The second volume contains the course on Christian morals that has been given to students at the University of Notre Dame during the past several years. It includes the moral theology treatises on Principles and Precepts. In general, both volumes seem excellent for their pur-pose and should make good texts for college and university classes, as well as for summer sessions in theology for Sisters. For the most part, both texts avoid disputed questions, and the treatise on moral 160 May, 1950 BOOK NOTICES " theology contains no "problems for discussion." There is much to be said for these methods, but they have disadvantages, too. Avoidance of disputed questions helps to avoid confusion, but it also tends to undermine confidence when the students later find out that there are different opinions. And the avoidance of the discussion prob-lems, besides keeping the book from becoming too large, also prevents an unwholesome "casuistic" attitude. However, without working problems the students will hardly learn moral theology; hence teachers will have to supply them. (Notre Dame, Ind.: University

Issue 1.3 of the Review for Religious, 1942. ; Review for Religious MAY 15, 1942 The General Chapter of Elections . Adam C. Ellis Retreat Resolutions . Clarence McAuliffe Reparation to the Sacred Heart . Malachi J. Donnelly The, Pivotal Point of Good Will . G. Augustln~ Ellard Scruples Versus the Human Way . ~ Gerald Kelly Hints for Sacristans . Gerald Ellard The Presumed Permission . ¯ . James E. Risk Book Reviews )uestions Answered E)ecisions of the Holy See VOLUME NUMBER 3 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME I MAY 15. 1942 NUMBER CONTENTS. THE GENERAL CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS IN A RELIGIOUS CONGREGATION Adam C. Ellis, S.3 . 146 FOR CHURCH MUSICIANS . " . 156 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS---Clarence McAuliffe, S.J . 157 BOOKS RECEIVED . , . 166" ¯ SOME PAMPHLETS . 166 REPARATION IN THE DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART Malachi J. Donnelly, S.J. . ." . . . 167 THE PIVOTAL POINT OF EFFECTIVE GOOD WILL G. Augustine Ellard, S.J . 170 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN WAY---Gerald Kelly. S.J. 187 HINTS FOR SACRISTANS~erald Ellard, S.J . 194 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION--Jame$.,E~. Risk. S.J . 196 BOOK REVIEWS PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS PERFECTION . 206 BLESSED ARE THEY THAT HUNGER By the Reverend Richard Graef, C.S.Sp. 206 THE MASS OF BROTHER MICHEL. By Michael Kent . 207 FAST BY THE ROAD. By John Moody . ; 208 THE CATHOLIC REVIVAL IN ENGLAND. By John ,J. O'Connor 209 MEDIEVAL HUMANISM. By the Reverend Gerald G. Walsh, S.J. 209 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 210 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Extension of Temporary Vows; Use df Parish School Funds; Is Reli-gious Habit a Sacramental; Days of Abstinence during Lent; Languages during Canonical Year; Inspection of Letters: Administration of Anes-thetics: Aspirant of East Syrian Rite: Converts from Greek Orthodox Church; Indulgence for Kissing Habit: Extending Period of Probation: Chanting of Little Office; Working during Evening Recreation 211 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1942. Vol. I, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at The College Press, 606 Harrison Street; Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.d. 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. PHnted in U. S. A. The General Chap!:er ot: I::lect:ions in a Religious Congregat:ion Adam C. Ellis, S.3. BY CHAPTER in a reli.gious institute is meant the lawful assembly of those members to whom the con-stitutions give the right to vote when matters of im-portance are to be discussed and decided. Chapters may be general, provincial, or local, according as they represent an entire institute (order or congregation), or a province, or a local community. Provincial and local chapters meet, as a rule, only for the election of delegates to the general or provincial chapter respectively. In this article we are concerned only with the g.eneral chapter, though many of its provisions will apply equally well to a provincial or local chapter. An ordinarg general chapter is convoked at the times prescribed by the constitu-tions-~ every three or six years, or at other regular inter.- vals. An extraordinar~ general chapter is ofie convoked outside the time of the ordinary chapter~ Constitutions approved by the Holy See usually prescribe that an ex-traordinary chapter may not be convoked without the per-missioh of the Holy See, except in the case of the death or resignation of the superior general. The purpose of the general chapter is two-fold: to elect superiors, and to transact other important business. The first kind of chapter is usually called the chapter of elections; the second, the business chapter, or the chapter of affairs. We are dealing here with the chapter of elections only, which is governed by the regulations of the Code of Canon Law as well as by the provisions of the constitu-tions which are not contrary to the Code (cf. canon 507. §1). 146 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Time, Place, and Cor~oocation of Chapter. The common law of the Church does not prescribe any particular place for the meeting of the general chapter of elections. The constitutions usually allow the superior general to determi.ne the date and place of the chapter, with the deliberative vote of his council. Sometimes, however, they prescribe that the chapter be held in the motherhouse, and set the day for it as well. In the absence of any definite regulations of the constitutions, the superior general with his council is free to determine the day on which the chap-ter is to be held, as well as its meeting-place. This is true even in the case of a diocesan congregation of religious women which has houses in more than one diocese, as was declared by the S. Congregation of Religious on June 17, 1921, when it explicitly stated that the choice of the meet-ing- place of the chapter rested with the superior general, and not with the local Ordinary in whose diocese the moth-erhouse is located. At the same time the S. Congregation declared that the right to preside over the election in the case mentioned belonged to the local Ordinary in whose diocese the election took place, hence not to the Ordinary of the motherhouse, unless the election is held in his dio-cese. Pope Benedict XV confirmed these decisions and ordered them to be published. The day and place of the general chapter having been determined upon, the superior general will then convoke the chapter, usually by means of a circular letter to be sent to all those who have a right to assist at the chapter. The constitutions usually pr.escribe that such letters are to be sent at least three, if not six, months before the day on which the chapter is to meet. An error in convoking the chapter does not make the election invalid unless one third of those who have a right to attend have not been sum-moned and, by reason of this irregularity, have not taken 147 ADAM C. ELLIS part in the voting (cf. canon 162, § 3). Electors or Members of the Chapter The constitutions will determine who have a right to take part in a chapter of elections. The following are com-monly members of such a chapter: 1. The superior general; 2. The members of his council; 3. All ex-superiors general; 4. The secretary general; 5. The treasurer general; 6. Provincials and two or more delegates from each province, if there are provinces; 7. Local superiors, and delegates of the various houses chosen according to the constitutions. The common law of tl~e Church prescribes that reli-gious with temporary vows have neither active nor pas-sive voice1 unless the constitutions explicitly grant it to them. The constitutions sometimes grant active voice to religious with temporary vows, seldom if ever passive voice. The number of years required by the constitutions for the enjoyment~ of active and passive voice is tO be counted from the" first profession of temporary vows, un-less the constitutions provide otherwise (cf. canon 578, 30). It is customary to elect substitutes for all delegates who are elected to take part in a chapter of elections. These substitutes take the place of such delegates as are impeded or who do not wish to attend the chapter. Unless the con-stitutions declare otherwise, the religious who have been elected delegates may give up their right to attend the chap-ter. XActive voice is the tight to vote: passive voice is the right to be voted for or to be elected to an ot~ce, 148 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Prelirainar~.t Session of Chapter In a preliminary session of the .chapter it is customary to examine the credentials of all the delegates to the chap-ter. This having been done, the assembly proceeds by se-cret vote to the election of at least two "scrutineers".0r tellers (cf. canon 171, § 1), unless these are already desig-nated by the constitutions. They must be elected from among the members of the chapter. After being elected they take an oath to fulfill their of Iice faithfully, and to observe secrecy regarding everything done in the chapter of elections. A secretary is usually elected in a similar man-ner, unless one of the tellers acts in this capacity. General Regulations Regarding Voting On!y those religious who are actually present in the chapter have a right to vote. Votes sent in by mail or cast by proxy are forbidden and invalid, unless the constitu-tions or a special privilege granted by the Holy See author-ize the employment of those methods (cf. canon 163). An exception., however, is made in favor of members of the chapter who are in the house but unable to attend the meetings because of illness. Such a person's vote given in writing shall be collected by the tellers and placed with the other votes, unless particular laws or a legitimate custom determine otherwise (cf. canon 168). All must abstain from seeking votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others, and no one may validly vote for himself (cf. canons 507, § 2, 170). This does not forbid the members-of the chapter from seeking information from one another regarding the qualities of this or that religious. The constitutions frequently pro-vide for such an opportunity before the day of the election. All votes must be freely given. A vote directly or indirectly extorted by grave fear or fraud in favor of a 149 ADAM C. ELLIS determined person, or of one of a group of persons, is an invalid vote (cf. canon 169, §.1). In order to be valid, a vote freely cast for an eligible candidate must have four qualities: it must be secret, cer-tain, absolute, and determined (cf. canon 169, § 2). Each one of these qualities demands a brief explanation. A secret vote. This means that no member of the chapter may make known to another, the pers6n for whom he voted. A vote which is made public is by that very fact invalid. However, for special reasons, a member of the chapter may declare before the president and the tellers which person he wishes to vote for. The vote is secret, since all the persons to whom it is made. known are bound under oath. not to reveal it. Though not strictly speaking required by law, a written ballot is the most common and most convenient form of carrying on the election and safe-guards the secrecy req.uired. It would seem to be the only form contemplated by the Code. A certain vote. In order to be certain the vote must glare the full name of the person v6ted for so as to distin-guish him from all other persons having a similar name. A vote cast for "the person who will receive the majority of the votes," is an uncertain vote. A vote which cannot be read, or understood, is likewise uncertain; as is also a blank vote. An absolute vote. Each vote must be free from all con-ditions. A vote cast for Peter "provided he is fifty years old," would be an invalid vote. If the condition, however, merely expresses a requirement of the law for the valid election of the person voted for, the. vote would not be invalid: But such conditions should not be put in the vote when given since they are presupposed. A determined vote. An alternative vote is invalid. 150 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Such would be, for example, a vote cast for "either Peter or Paul." In conclusion it may be well to note that an invalid vote does not make the balldt in which it is cast invalid. Such an invalid vote is simply not.counted. By accident it may keep the person for whom it was given from getting the required majority of votes. The Election of the Superior General -Before the voting begins for the election of higher superiors in institutes of religious men, all and each of the members of the chapter shall promise under oath to elect those whom they deem before God should be elected (cf. canon 506, § 1). This oath is not required of reli-gious women. In institutes of religious men the superior general pre-sides over the election unless the constitutions provide otherwise. In congregations of religious women the elec-tion of the mother general is presided over by the Ordinary of the place in which the election is held. He may preside personally or through a delegate (cf. canon 506, § 4). For the election of superiors the common law requires an absolute2 majority of votes on either the first or second ballot, while a relative majority suffices on the third ballot, If, on the third ballot, the highest number of votes is given equally to two or more persons, the presiding officer may determine the election by casting his vote, but never in his own favor. Should he decline to do so, then the senior by reason of ordination, or of first profession, or of age, shall be regarded as elected (cf. canon 101, § 1, 1°). Theconsti- 2An absolute majority is constituted by any number exceeding half the number of valid votes cast, for instance, 9 out of 16, 10 out of' 19, and so forth. The person receiving the greatest number of votes cast is said. to have a plurality or relative majority of the votes cast when that number does not constitute an absolute majority of all the'votes cast. Thus, in a chapter in which 25 votes are cast,-,John may receive 11, Peter 8, and Paul 6. ,John has a relative majority. 151 ADAM C. ELLIS tutions may require a greater number of votes, for instance, a two-thirds majority for the election of the superior gen-eral. Constitutions approved by the Holy See usually require that :a fourth ballot be taken in case the third ballot does not result in an absolute majority. ¯ In this fourth bal-lot only the two religious who have received the greater number of votes on the third ballot are eligible for election, though they themselves are excluded from voting on the fourth ballot. In case this fourth ballot results in a tie, the election is determined by priority of ordination, or of first profession, or of age, respectively as mentioned above. The Voting Process When all are prepared the voting begins. It is the duty of the tellers to see to it that the votes be cast by each elector secretly, diligently, separately, and according to the order of precedence (cf. canon 171, § 2). No particular form of collecting the votes is prescribed by the common law, though the constitutions usually determine some detailed method, for instance, the tellers carry a locked box into which each member casts his sealed vote, or the members proceed slowly, one by one, to-the table or desk of the presiding officer, and there deposit their votes in an urn or box, under the watchful eyes of the tellers. When all the votes have been thus.collected, the tellers shall examine in the presence of the presiding officer, according to the manner prescribed by the particular con-stitutions or legitimate customs, whether the number of votes corresponds to the number of electors. Should the number of votes exceed the number of electors, the ballot is invalid (cf. canon 171, §§ 2 and 3), the ballots are destroyed, and a new vote taken. If the number of ballots does not exceed that of the number of electors, they are opened one by one so as to be seen by both tellers, and by 152 " CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS the presiding officer, and noted down by the secretary. After the votes have been counted the presiding officer or one of the tellers announces to the chapter how many votes each candidate has received. This may be done in either of two ways. After each vote is opened and inspected by the tellers and the presiding officer, the name of the person voted for is read aloud.-Or after the votes have been counted, the final results may be read to the chapter by the presiding officer or by one of the tellers. The constitutions or custom will determine the method to be followed. The votes are to be burned immediately after each bal-lot, or at the end of the session if several ballots were taken during it (cf. canon 171., § 4). When the election of the superior general has been com-pleted according to the prescribed formalities, the presiding officer will declare it lawful, proclaim it, and receive the oath of the newly elected superior general. Thereupon the religious both of the chapter and of the community will make their obedience according to custom. All the acts of the election shall be diligently written down by the secretary and, after being signed at least by him, by the presiding officer, and by the tellers, they shall be carefully preserved in the archives of the congregation (cf. canon 171, § 5). Acceptance and Confirmation of the Election The announcement of the result of the election made to the chapter is sufficient notification if the person elected is present; if he is not present the result should be officially communicated to him, and he is to be summoned to the chapter, all further business of which is suspended until his arrival. Unless the constitutions state the contrary, the reli-gious elected is not obliged to accept the office. Should he 153 ADAM C. ELLIS renounce it; he loses all the rights connected with the same, and a new election is held. In the case of diocesan congregations of religious women, the election of the mother general must be con-firmed by the Ordinary who presides over it. For grave reasons, according to his conscience, he may refuse to con-firm the election (cf. canon 506, § 4). In that case, how-ever, he may not appoint the superior general, but a new election must be held. Postutaiion It may fiappen that the members of a chapter wish to have for their superior a religious who is able and worthy to fill that office, but who is excluded from it by some impediment of church law from which the-competent ecclesiastical ~uperior can and is accustomed to dispense. Such a person cannot be validly] elected, but the members of the chapter may postulate him, provided that he receives two-thirds of. the votes of the chapter (cf. canons 179, § 1; 180, § 1)which means that they ask the Holy See to grant the necessary dispensation. Postulation, however, may be admitted only in an extraordinary case and provided the constitutions do not forbid it. (cf. canon 507, § 3). In a letter addressed to the local Ordinaries of the world on March 9, 1920, the S. Congregation of Religious instructed them to be very strict in allowing postulation in the case of the superior general of a congregation of religious women who has just com-pleted two terms of office. In such a case the simple desire of the members of the chapter to re-eleCt the same superior, or the mere ability of the person to fill the office, is not a sufficient reason for postulation. If, however, other grave reasons seem to require the choice of the same person beyond the time allowed by the constitutions, the Ordinary must 154 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS send a petion to the S. Congregation, in which it is clearly stated what the reasons are, how many ballots were taken, and how many votes were in favor of the person postu-lated. Finally the OMinary must state his own opinion in the matter. The S. Congregation will then give a decision. The fact that the constitutions expressly allow postulation does not excuse from the requirements of this instruction. In case of postulation the members of the chapter who wish to vote for an ineligible person, must write on their ballot: "I postulate N. N." Election of Other Officers The newly elected superior general presides over the election of the other officers to be chosen by the general chapter, unless the constitutions allow the Ordinary the right of presiding likewise at the election of the members of the general council. These elections are usually held in a separate session Of the chapter. The manner of voting is the same as that employed in the election of the superior general. An absolute majority of votes is required on the first and second ballot. If no one has received such a major2 ity, a third ballot is taken in which a relative majority is sufficient. ,If on this third ballot two or more candidates receive an equal number of votes, the presiding officer may cast a deciding vote, though he is not .obliged to do so. If he declines to use his right, the person who is senior by ordi-nation, or by first profession, or by age, is considered elected. The constitutions may provide for a fourth bal-lot in case the third re.sults in a tie. If the person elected is not a member of the chapter, he must be summoned at once, but the chapter does not await his arrival in order to continue its business. After the elections are over, the former superior gen-eral, the members of his council, the secretary general and 155 ADAM G. ELLIS the treasurer general, usually continue to sit in chapter with active voice as long as it r~mains in'session, even though they may have been replaced in their offces by other reli-gious. Should the superior general die during his term of offce, or resignbefore its completion, the assistant superior gen-eral will take his place in the government of the community and will ~onvoke an extraordinary chapter in which dec-tions will be held not only for a new superior general, but also for all the other offices which are usually filled by election in general chapter. The reason for this is that all ¯ the officers elected in a general chapter hold office from chapter to chapter, rather than for a "definite number of years. FOR CHURCH MUSICIANS Of unusual yalue to religious and seminarians working in the field c~f church music is 'the new Catholic Choirmasters' Correspon-derice Course. Four semesters of ~olle'giate° work, accredited by St. Albertus College Department of Music, are done under personal tutorship and will be coricluded with summer schools in 1943 and 1944. The lessons have been prepared by a~ faculty international in personnel and repute, including Dom Desrocquettes0 Dr. Becket Gibbs, Dom Ermin Vitry, Father Gerald Ellard, and others. Zest and .authority characterize their teaching, and phonograph recordings assist amply in problems that need the living voice. General' editor is Clifford Bennett, Gregorian Institute, 1515 Berger Building, Pittsburgh, Pa. Those interested may obtain an attractive pros-pectus by writing to the General Editor. 156 Retreat Resolutions Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. AS ~WEGO ON in the religious life, certain practices, n6t binding under pain of sir/, but nevertheless, of paramount importance in their bearing on the whole spiritual structure, become increasingly .difficult. Among these are the particular examination of conscience, certain rules governing religious discipline, such as the rule of silence, and the formulation of apt resolutions during re-treat. That the delicate web of religious virtues clings for partial support upon the particular examen is admitted by all ascetical writers. The same holds true for the rule of silence, since its utter neglect means the undermining of the spirit of prayer and recollection. But the resolutions we take in our annual retreat are even of greater moment since the continued practice of the particular examen and the preservation of a prayerful disposition depend in no small measure upon them. If we reflect on our happy novitiate days, we shall remember that we experienced no difficulty in making resolutions and recording them. We jotted them down carefully as tokens of our affection for our Divine Savior Who alone besides ourselves knew what they were. We may still have them. We may smile now at some of their characteristics. No doubt we took too many resolutions; we aimed too often at purely external practices; we may even have aspired to fanciful performances. But we can-not deny that they did us good. They kept us fervent: they kept our ideals high; they were concrete proof of our good will in God's service; they bolstered our flagging spir-itual forces. As long as we exercised care in formulating and inditing resolutions during our retreat, we were also 157 CLARENCE MCAULIFI~E faithful to our particular examen and observant of a cred-itable practice of silence. If we ever relaxed our diligence in making resolutions during retreat, our particular exa-men becamea half-hearted or neglected undertaking and our love for silence grew notably remiss. No Excuse t:or Neglect W.hy should the task, for task it is, of taking retreat resolutions ever be neglected by. us? What truly solid rea-son can we give for not writing them down and keeping them close at hand? Every man or woman engaged in a profession or business or in any other activity of moment pauses now and then to determine hn altered course of ac-tion. Small defects ard bound to seep in unnoticed, but they impede success and must b~ removed. Positive prog-ress also must be made; knowledge must be extended; greater zest must be engendered or the business will grow languid and die. Merchants do not hesitate to pay ample fees to public accountants and efficiency experts. These men detect pecuniary losses and open up new fields of ac-tivity for the merchant, and he makes definite plans accord-ing to their advice. Are we religious not engaged in a pro-fession, and a profession transcending all others? Can we deny that peccadilloes of one kind or another are, almost unobserved, weakening the fabric of our spiritual gar-ments? .that we are yet far distant from the glorious hori-zon of perfec~tion to which God beckons each one of us? Should we hesitate during our annual retreat to be our own public accountants and efficiency experts because of the unreasonable murmurings of our natural selves? A Faoorable Time for Resolutions Certainly no time is better suited for determining new spiritual policies than the annual retreat. During it we are segregated from our active duties; we engage in several days RETREAT RESOLUTIONS of silent communing with God; we see again what we al-ways know, but never reduce to perfect practice, that we are made only to serve Him; our spiritual ideals, dimmed by a whole year's mis~, are refurbished; God himself speaks to us and we hear His whisperings periodically, during each day of retreat pleading with us: "Why not give up this sin-less, but inordinate attachment for my sake? Why not de-vote more attention to developing this virtue?" Further-more, our subjective condition is fit for taking sage resolu-tions. We are calm, tranquil; excessive nervous tension, emotional ebullitions, the agitation engendered by custom-ary daily contact with other human personalities m all these vanish in the solitude of retreat. Those New Year resolutions so widely publicized by the newspapers can scarcely ever be successful if brought to bear upon spiritual matters, because the hectic round of daily duties and dis-tractions impedes clear vision and sound judgment. But the retreat is the New Year for religious and it is certainly to our shame if we pass up this one propitious occasion for taking efficacious resolves. Retreat resolutions are apt to be successful for another reason. Our profession is spiritual and its successful prac-tice does not depend on mere human endeavors. God called us to the religious life; He keeps us in it'; .He enables us every day to live it. Any resolution we take is doomed to failure if we count upon our own natural energies to fulfill it. Even the simplest, such as thedetermination to prepare Our meditation more carefully, to make an additional visit to the Blessed Sacrament, to relinquish some convenient, but unnecessary article, cannot be accomplished without the grace of God. Consider what vast stores of grace we must obtain in time of retreat. Not only do we perform our ordinary spiritual exercises, but the whole time is one continual prayer. A veritable mountain of sanctifying. 159~ CLARENCE MCAULIFFE grace is accumulated and with it the right to actual graces to be given us in the future as we need them. We shall need them particularly in order to be faithful to our reso- ¯Iutions, the fruit of our retreat, and they will be supplied generously and persistently by God, success depending solely upon our wholehearted cooperation. Negative Resolutions Why, then, we may ask have our resolutions so often been failures?' Why is it that we can hardly recall them after a few weeks perhaps? Have we been grossly negli-gent in corresponding with the grace of God? Not neces-sarily so. Perhaps our resolutions were not prudently made. God constructed the human being according to very definite laws. If we take resolutions contrary to these laws, especially our psychological laws, we can scarcely expect God to work a miracle to enable us to keep them. For in-stance, most' of us are probably too negative in drawing.up our resolutions. We will not do this; we will not do that; we will quit doing this, and so on. In other words, we pay entirely too much attention to our faults. If we are com-mitting deliberate sins, we must, of course, make them the first object of our determinations. But 'such is not usually the case. We fret over our imperfections or merely semi-deliberate faults, forgetting a sound teaching of theology which declares that it is impossible for any person without a special privilege, rarely granted, to keep from these even for a single day. The chances are that such defects spring from temperament, nervous disposition, unstable health or some other natural cause, partially, at least, beyond our control. Now it is a psychological law that negatives de-press the human soul. If our retreat resolutions comprise merely a lengthy list of "Don'ts" over inconsequential matters, we are .quite surely going to let them lapse. The 160 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS human soul is too lofty in its aspirations to be fettered' by a chorus of petty "I will not's"; it soars to the highest heavens in search of God Himself; unending vistai of per-fection lie stretched out before it and microscopic imper-fections are no obstacle to exalted sanctity even if they stay with us to our dying day. How much wiser it would be to 'resolve: "I will pay an additional visit to the Blessed Sac-rament each day this coming year for a few minutes out of love for my Savior," than to promise: "I will never sit down during meditation in the chapel", when, as a matter of fact, constant kneeling may so distract us that we cannot pray at all from bodily uneasiness. Besides, protracted kneeling may even do us positive corporal harm unless our backs and nerves are of rugged texture. How Man~/ Resolutions? Another mistake to which we may easily succumb is that of taking too many resolutions. It is true that a hun-dred resolutions would be none too many when we see in retreat the intricate labyrinth of perfection. Even so, it would certainly be unwise to take more than four. or, at most, five. Here again asimple law of. human psychology enters into play. We are so constructed that a multiplicity of resolves overbalances US~ dissipates our energies and re-sults in no accomplishment whatever. We cannot expect our Savior to rescind that law in our case by a miracle. It is well for us to recall that old axiom of spiritual au-thors that to advance in one virtue is to advance in them all. Progress, for instance, in the spirit and practice of obedi-ence necessarily reflects progress in the love of God. But love is the pith and core of all sanctity; loreis the all-em-bracing virtue; it means a closer alliance with God, more intimate union with Him; if it makes the tree of obedience more verdant, it must necessarily transmit its vigor to the 161 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE entire forest of virtues. Bearing this in mind, we should in retreat pay heed, firit of all to our vows. An outpost to one of them may have been weakened during the previous year. Then we should look to the virtues animating the vows and make a few positive resolutions that will stimu-late their growth. We must never forget that a religious observant of the vows is a good religious. Focusing our attention upon them, we keep our resolutions down to a minimum. Yet we will make more rapid spiritual s~rides .than we would if we squandered our resources by making decisions on the whole gamut of faults and virtues. The Search After Causes Our resolutions may result in failure for another rea-son also. They may be too vague, too imprecise, too gen-eral. For example, how often have we resolved in retreat to be more fervent in our spiritual exercises! No one could condemn a determination to better these exercises of piety. It is they especiall.y that keep our spiritual lives vigorous and bolster our flagging virtue. But what happened to that resolution to make them more devotedly? For a day or two, for a week or two perhaps, we were more attentive .to them and then, behold, we soon found ourselves in the same old rut of routine and mechanical performance. Why? Simply because our resolution violated a metaphysical law which states that to attain a purpose it is necessary to .~elect means, causes, that will conduce to its realization. If we resolve only upon the end to be achieved, we shall accomplish nothing. Every day we dream ofthings we should like to do, but we neglect the specific means to the end and our resolves are thus mere fancies relegated to the vast mound of inefficacious desires. If we really wish to improve our meditation, examinations of conscience and other spiritual exercises, let us investigate the reason 162 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS why they are performed so perfunctorily. Ii it because we indulge in considerable unnecessary talking? This will certainly dissipate the mind and react upon our spiritual exercises. If we make a determination to practise silence, we shall find that contact with God will become much eas.ier and our meditations will improve. Is it due to un-regu. lated affections of the heart? Then a resolution must be taken to watch carefully over such ungoverned move-ments by removing their occasions as far as possible. Is it due to stark physical fatigue? Then we can do nothing directly, but perhaps we can adopt some regime that will improve our health. Is it due to some other cause? Then let us examine for that cause and decide to overcome it if possible. Definite resolutions of these kinds will inject new life into our meditation whereas a mere hazy resolve to perform it better will soon vanish. This point is of the utmost consequence. Take another example. Most of us are guilty of positive faults against charity and all of us could practise this virtue much more perfectly. Shall we then determine during retreat: "I shall be more charitable"? Such a resolution is praiseworthy,, as a sign of our good will in God's service, but it is bound to lapse just as is the vague determination to do better in our spiritual exercises. If we wish to be more charitable, we must pry into the reasons why we are not more charitable. If we wish to obtain an effect, we must find a proportion-ate cause to produce it. Do we fail in charity because we associate only with those whose temperaments .are con-genial? because we areof a squeamish disposition and allow tiny impolitenesses to jar our nerves? because we indulge in idle ,gossip and small talk? because we have a biting or ridiculing tongue? Could we add blossoms to our charity by interesting ourselves in the activities of others? by de-veloping the spirit of a good listener? by watching for 163 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE opportunities to say a kindly word or express Our sym-pathy? Ways and means to add lustre to this virtue are truly endless. If one defect, in particular, makes us un-charitable, let us in retreat decide to banish it; if some precise means of burnishing our charity occurs to us, let us determine to adopt it. Then we shall find that Christ's own spirit of charity will take root and flourish in our souls. The Bizarre Resolution Fantastic and complex resolutions should also be avoided. Though we never relax our aim at the highest possible perfection, we always keep our feet anchored to earth by the bonds of prudence and common sense. The human mind can only think of one thing at a time; the will can be directed toward only one conscious goal at a time. Both faculties are bound to be smothered by kaleido-scopic resolutions. Suppose a religious were to emerge from retreat armed with this single resolve: From eight o'clock in the morning when her active day began until ten at night when she retired, exactly fourteen hours inter-vened, the same number of hours as there are stations of the cross. During the coming year she would divide the day according to the stations. From eight to nine in the morning she would live in the spirit of the first station, the condemnation of the Savior. From nine to ten her thoughts would Be engrossed with the second station, and so on throughout the day. It is not likely that this well-inten-tioned religious would keep that resolution. It is too bizarre and too involved .and would require constant at-tention from morning to night every single day. Human nature could not stand such a strain without well-nigh miraculous support. 164 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS Keeping the Resolution Once our resolutions are taken and written down, how can we perpetuate them for three hundred and sixty-five days? By adopting them as subjects for Our particular ex-amination of conscience. How often we puzzle over a suitable subject for this examen! The problem vanishes if we have our retreat resolutions on hand. Even though these be only three or four,, they will provide ample matter for the examen. Each resolution can be the subject for a few weeks or a month. Thereafter each resolution can be repeated again and, if this becomes wearisome, variety may be introduced without changing the subject matter. FOr instanc.e, if one of our retreat resolutions is to eliminate unnecessary talking, we can practise this for some days under the patronage of the Blessed Virgin and in imitation .of her silence in the home at Nazareth. Later on, we might exercise it in union with Christ in the desert and in His infancy and in His secluded hours of prayer upon the mountain. At another time we may practise it by repeated ejaculatory prayers to some favorite saint whose help we implore. In this way the subject will not grow tedious and it will never lose its value Since it is one of our rdreat resolutions. These may also be kept alive and vibrant by referring to them duriag the monthly recollection. Why devote this period to any other consideration when God has shown us in our previous retreat what actions of ours will most please Him? Despite our best efforts, however, we shall make un-successful resolutions. In framing them we may continue to violate the laws of human psychology. We may not observe them even for a week though we honestly wanted to do so. We should not be discouraged. God values our good will; and our retreat resolutions, if written down, are 165 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE palpable proof of this" good will. The resolutions of our novitiate days were often ill-formed and impossible of achievement, but they secured God's blessing for us. We kept the vows though we did not as yet have them; rarely did we commit even a deliberate venial sin; we strove by our clumsy retreat resolutions to improve our religious lives. These resolutions won from Christ the gift of fer-vor. He Will reanimate and increase that fervor if we per-severe in taking and recording resolutions during our re-treat. BOOKS RECEIVED (7"0 be reviewed later.) I PRAY THE MASS~. By Hugo H. Hoever, S. O: Cist. Catholic Book Publishing Company. New York. MARCH INTO TOMORROW. By, 3ohn ,J. Considine, M.M. Field Afar,Pres~. New York. ~, . WATCH AND PRAY. By ,John Moffatt, S.~J. The Bruce Publishing' Company. Milwaukee. IN THE SHADOW OF OUR LADY OF THE CiENACLE. By Helen M. Lynch; R.C. The Paulist Press. New York. SOME PAMPHLETS Cheer Up!; Be of Good Heart!; Have ConfidenCe!; Take Courage! These four pamphlets are by Father Bruno Hagspiel, S.V.D. They consist of a varied collection of Scripture texts, anecdotes, poems, and so forth, all designed to cheer the downhearted.~ Price, 10 cents a copy. May be obtained from The Mission Press, Techny, I11. Also, four pamphlets listed under the general title, GOSPEL MOVIES, that treat of Grace; Faith; Sin; Wed in Christ. They contain brief stories based on the Gospels and illustrating these various topics. All are written by Father Placldus Kempf, O.S.B. Price, 10 cents a copy. May be obtained from THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad~, Indiana. 166 Reparation in t:he Devotion t:o !:he Sacred I-leart: Malachi 3. Donnelly, S.J. THE "great apparition" of our Lo~d to St. Margaret Mary took place duiing the Octave of Corpus Christi, most probably in 1675. Showing her His Heart, our Lo~d said: "Behold this Heart which has so loved men, which has spared nothing, even to being exhausted and consumed, in order to testify to them its love. And the greater number of them make me no other return than ingratitude, by their coldness and their forgetfulness of me in this Sacrament of love. But what is still more painful to me is, that it is hearts who are consecrated to me who use me thus." And our Lord continued: "It is because of this that I ask you to have the first Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christi kept as a special feast in honor of my Heart. by receiving Communion on that day and making it a reparation of honor for all the insults offered to my Heart during the time that it has been exposed on the altars." The end of the devotion to the Sacred Heart, as revealed to St. Margaret Mary and as approved by the Church, is reparation to this same Heart for the coldness and indif-ference, for the sins and insults suffered by the Sacred Heart, especially in the Sacrament of His love. Reparation, in general, means the making up for an injury or offense committed against one to whom honor and love are due. In the case of reparation to the Sacred Heart, this presup-poses a real personal wound in that Heart caused by the sins of men, and a real ability on the part of those devoted to the Sacred Heart to repair this wound. This confronts us with two difficulties: 1) how can the Heart of Jesus now suffer? 2) how can we repair His sufferings? 167 MALACHI ,J. DONNI~LLY The soul of Jesus Christ.in heaven experiences no sor-row, nor does His glorified body know aught of pain. His perfect happiness can be dimmed by absolutely nothing: nay! not even by the most heinous sins of ungrateful men, How, then, could He complain of the coldness and indif-ference of m~n, and that in words which, seemingly indicate that each sin of the present day is a direct and piercing wound in His Sacred Heart? In a word, the solution lies in an Understanding of the knowledge that Christ, as Man, enjoyed during His, life on earth. Our Blessed Lord was both God and Man. As Man He enjoyed the beatific Vision throughout His whole life. Now, through this vision He received the complete perfection of His intellect. He knew all things that per-tained to His office, His dominion, His mission on earth, all that pertained to the plan of redemption. The knowledge that Christ had, as Man~ was like unto the eternal knowledge of God. During His whole lithe, .especially during the Passion, Christ',' as Man, had knowl-edge of future things; the good and bad 'actions of all men were directly1 present to His mind. Just as a giant search-light in one blazing stream of light covers at once a half-mile area and every inch of space therein, or just as the human eye gazing on a distant landscape sees the whole and each detail at the same time, so, too, did Christ see through the whole of time to come and all the actions of men con-tained therein. He saw all future events as actually present before His eyes and each event was the direct object of His vision. In order to understand better the relationship between the knowledge of Christ and reparation in the devo-tion to the Sacred Heart, let us go in imagination with Jesus to the garden of Gethsemani. As Jesus kneels in 168 REPARATION TO THE SACRED HEART meditation, He begins to grow sad. Why? This sadness can only be caused by the vision in His human mind. As He kneels there, the sins of all men Unfold before His eyes; all the ingratitude of men--especially, of those from whom He might well have expected better things--is directly present to His clear vision. Not a.single sin --- even an ever so secret sin of desire-~elu~les His all-seeing gaze. Also (and this is the consoling aspect of Gethsemani), every single act of reparation of those especially devoted to His Sacred Heart was present to Him. And, as Jesus looked upon these acts of reparation, His loving Heart felt real and deep consolation. When, therefore, at the present time we perform acts of reparation, it is perfectly true to say that there is direct contact between our act of reparation and the Heart of Christ in Gethsemani. Time and space are wiped out. His knowledge bridges nineteen hundred years as readily as we look across a river. We are present before His eyes: our acts of reparation console Him, our sins cause Him sorrow-ful agony. What should be the effect of this truth that all our actions were actuatl~t present to the suffering Christ in His Passion? A deep realization of this can only ground more firmly our love for the Sacred Heart and spur us to more ardent acts of loving reparation to the Sacred Heart. Just as the spokes of a wheel lead to the hub, with which they are in direct contact, so likewise do all the reparatory actions of men the world over lead back to Christ in the Garden; establish immediate contact with His Suffering heart. And the deep realization of this solidly established truth should arouse the deepest aspirations of our hearts and wills to do our utmost to console the great and loving Heart of Jesus. 169 The Pivol:al Point: ot: l=fl:ec!:ive ,ood Will G. Augustine.Ellard, S.J. ['Because of the importance of Father Ellard's theme, and because of the length of the article, we thought that the followihg summary might be appreciated by those who wish some handy way of visualiz!ng and recalling the points devdopedin the article. The Roman numerals refer to the same divisions of the text.--ED.] Summary I. The problem of bringing about moral good will is illustrated by three cases: a)" Good~ but weak, will in oneself; b) Generous, but inconstant, will in oneself; c) Irresponsive or bad will in others. II. What is meant by the expression: "the pivotal point of good will"? III. Things which do not constitute it. IV. It does consist in the realistic appreciation of values. These terms defined. V. Reasons for the assertion: a) Common sense; e) Philosophy; b) ExperienCe; f) Sacred Scripture; c) Observation; g) Theology. d) Experimental psychology: gI. The characteristics of the knowledge that is d~]namic, i.e. apt to move or strengthen the will: a) Presentation of the right aspect; e) Actuality: b) Sufficient" quantity ; f) Novelty ; c) Personal reference: g) Affinity and sympathy. d) Immediacy and imagery; VII. Practical conclusions-- 1. To move or strengthen the will for the present: Realize the values of motives: a) Learning what the pertinent values are; Means: b) Serious reflection and prayer, especially mental: c) Organization of the motives. 2. To steady the will in the future: Have the realization in the focus of consciousness at critical moments. a) Recollection; c) Habituation: Means: b) Association; d) Experience. 170 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL SISTER Mary Frail is making her annual retreat. More clearly than she has been wont, she sees the magnifi-cence and beauty of the divine plan for herself, she is delighted with it, and she feels that it would the grand-est thing possible to carry it out in all its fulness. Also she notices that to do so would mean giving up certain rather dear little habitual imperfections. She is torn between two conflicting attracti6ns. Though she is free, and by all means would be pleased to embrace .the whole of the divine plan for her, especially since it is all for her own happiness, still she finds that her will does not respond as she would like. Making his retreat also is Father Inconstant. He finds no great difficulty in resolving upon the noblest courses, but in looking back over many retreats, many excellent resolutions, and many performances not so excellent, be feels rather distressed at the sight of his inconstancy. This time, if possible, he is going to make the new beginning that will stick. Just how--well, that is not too clear to him. Brother Zealous faces a different kind of difficulty. He is a teacher, and he is glad to do everything he can to make good Christians out of his charges. But often enough he finds that his pupils are irresponsive or wilful. Is there anything we can do for Sister Mary Frail, Father Inconstant, and Brother Zealous? Their problems concern wills, their own and those of their charges. Pos-sibly, some consideration of that upon which moral good will turns in a peculiar way, may be of service to them. II. By "the pivotal point of good will" let us under-stand a certain something that precedes good will itself and that, more than anything else, is a condition of its coming into being. Of course it does not determine the will; for man, being free, makes his own determinations, But even the free will is dependent upon previous conditions, and it 171 -G. A. ELLARD is the principal of these that we propose to consider. Ill. This pivotal point of good will cannot be simply knowledge. Hardly anyone would maintain nowadays the old doctrine attributed to Socrates that knowledge makes virtue. It is not freedom of the will; everybody knows by sad experience that he cannot make himself good by a mere fiat of his will, nor even by many of them. Imposition of good habits from without, though continued over a period ,of years, in the discipline, for example, of a boarding school,, may ultimately produce, not what is sought, but a reaction in the contrary direction. Good habits developed freely and from within cannot be the point we are inquir-ing after, primarily because they presuppose much good volition and action, .and the pivotal point is antecedent to these. Nor, to pass to the supernatural order, is grace as such the pivot. Grace could not help to explain natural good will:. Even in supernatural activity, it is not sanctify-ing grace, which of itself is not operative, but a habit in the order of b.elng, not of action. Nor can it be the infused virtues or the gifts-of the Holy Spirit; neither are these of themselves operative; to go into action, they need stimula-tion. In what sense actual grace may fulfill the function we are investigating, will be taken up later on. Prayer, that is, asking God for good will, cannot bethe pivotal point. If the request be granted, the question would remain by what means the good will is brought about. Realistic Appreciation of Values IV. The pivotal point does seem to be found in a realistic, sense or appreciation of values. Let us consider. Everything that is good has value, and therefore value here is understood to be any good. Good is, according to the classical division: the.pleasant, the useful, the proper. Val-ues may be high or low, and positive, like pleasure, or nega- 172 PIVOTAL POINT OF (~00D ~'ILL tive, like pain. Appreciation is the subjective or'personal response to the objective goods that we call values. To appi~eciate is, according to the dictionary, "to set a just value on; to esteem to the full worth of; to be fully sensi-ble of; to exercise a niceperception of worth." Good busi-ness people, like SisterMary Buyer, who has been chosen out.of many to make the purchases for the convent or hos-pital, presumably know how to discern values and prices, In art or literature a man is said to have appreciation if he recognizes or prizes what is beautiful. In general, a person has appreciation if he knows a good thing when he sees it. The wise man has been defined as he who knows true val-ues. Religious who properly evaluate the excellence of God and of His plan have appreciation. Realistic apprecia-tion equals .the reality, or at least approximates the reality, of the value. Appreciation, or evaluation, knowing good things as good, seems to be the vital link between the two spiritual facultieS. It involves knowledge of a certain kind, and thus it is intellectual; since complacency or some other indelib-erate movement of.will must follow the perception of. good or evil, it brings in the will also. In practise, the cultivation of appreciation of true or major values ri~quires the har-monious cooperation of both faculties. V. Among the reasons for placing the pivotal point of good will in a realistic sense or appraisal of values, we may notice the following. Common sense would seem to indicate that it is mo-tives that move the will. But what are motives, directly or indirectly, except values? If athing be of no value to one, why should one bother about it? Our own experience seems to teach the, same. If we consider carefully the best moments and the worst mo-ments in our past lives, and allow for all influences; internal- 173 G, A. ELLARD and external, can we give a better reason for our own inte-rior strength or weakness at such times than that just then our sense of values, our perception of what was really good, ~was most adequate and realistic or least so? A little observation of men shows how eagerly they react to what they value highly; to money, for example, or pleasure, or power, or honor. Salesmen and advertisers achieve their, purpose by inducing people to conceive, the highest possible idea of the worth of their merchandise. Everybody notices how much clerks will put up with from prospective buyers. Would the same persons be so com-plaisant if there were no immediate .gain in view? If it be necessary to, hold his job a man may rather easily bear with the caprices of his employer, ~though at home; with his wife and children, he acts like an 01d bear. Wars, in spite of all their evils, are fought for great economic or. political values. Suppose that, in the iight of experience and observa: tion of men, we. consider this hypothetical case. Let A be anybody who has great sums of money at his disposal. Let B be anybddy else. Let A ask B to do anything that is within the limits of reason. If A0 offer greater and greater amounts of money to B indefinitely, is it likely that B w~ill resist the attraction? Is it not to be expected thathe will yield~ and moreover like it? But money .is only the measure of .material values. That volition is a function Of appreciation or evalua-tion is also a finding of experimental psychology. This is the main practical contention in the works on the w.ill of the distinguished German ~lesuit psychologist, Lindwor-sky1. He specialized in0 the psychology~of~this faculty, and it is to him that I am mostly in~tebted for the ideas in this 1See especially The Training of the ~rill, translated by Steiner and Fitzpatrick (Brute. Mil~.'aukee) ; and The Ps~Icholog~t of Asceticism, translated by Heiring (Edwards: Eondotl). ~ " 174 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL paper. According to Lindworsky, experiments show that volition depends chiefly upon insight into values, without of course being determined by them. The will can embrace whatever appears to it to be of value, and it can become very strong if one feels sufficiently that the value is great enough. To move the will, values must be subjectively. experienced. Keeping a resolution is dependent, not so much upon the energy with which it was made, nor upon an inner general strength of will developed by particular exercises, as upon sufficient initial evaluation and especially upon the presence of it in the focus of consciousness at critical moments. "That the secret of influencing the will lies principally in this, to present the ~right motives at the right time, is no new discovery; . it was always the doctrine of the tradi-tional Scholastic psy, chology": so writes Hertling2, a con-temporary authority in ascetical theology. From modern American psychologists: "Forcing oneself to an early rising, and compelling oneself to run six times around the barn before breakfast, or to do some other useless and diffi-cult thing daily, will not bring the result sought for . Will training implies bringing sufficient motivation into play.''8 Philosophy teaches that the object of the will is good that is known. There are two elements expressed in the object and a third is implied. The first is goodness, real or apparent. Hence no one can expect to influence the will except by proposing some good to it. To do anything else would be like trying to make one see what has no color or to hear something that is not sounding. Knowledge is the second requisite, and it is just as necessary. If one had an opportunity to pick up a million dollars, but did not ~Hertling: Lehrbuch der Aszetlschen Theologie (Rauch, Innsbruck), p. 177. 8Goult and Howard: Outline of General Ps~lcholog~l, pp. 338-339. 175 G. A. ELLARD notice it, nothing would come of it. Thirdly, the good whichis presented and known, must be apprehended not merely as true or in any other way, but as good. Where there is no good or no perception of it, there can be no voli-tion. If the good be sufficiently great and seen with suf-ficient clarity, there can be no resistance to its-attraction, as happens with the Infinite Goodness and Beauty in the beatific vision. Hence, in general, the greater the good and .the clearer one's knowledge of it, the more likely the will's acceptance of it, and the more energetic and constant that acceptance will be: Sacred Scripture seeks to move men mostly by prom-ising good things and threatening evil things. But these are values, positive or negative. Christ Himself appears to have indicated what the will follows in such texts as these: "For where thy treasure is, there shall thy heart be also" (Matthew 6: 21). "For what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his soul? Or what shall a man give asaprice for his soul?" (Matthew 16: 26). "The kingdom of the heavens is like unto a treasure hid in the field, which a man findeth and covereth; and in his j6y he goeth and selleth.all that he hath and buyeth that field. Again, the .kingdom of the hea~'ens is like unto a merchant in search of. goodly pearls; and when he .hath found one pearl of great price, he goeth and selleth all that he hath and buyeth it" (Matthew 13: 44-46). A theological consideration: interior actual grace helps us to do good or avoid evil by enlightening the mind and inspiring the will. Psychologically Speaking, one would say that grace moves the will by enlightening the mind. The indeliberate inclination excited in the will corresponds to the ideas aroused in the intelligence. Light relative to a practical step can conceivably bear upon any or all of these three points: what is to be done, why it is to be done, and 176 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD '~rILL bow it is to be done. The firstalone would be quite insuf-ficient, and might well be deterrent, as when an unpleasant duty is indicated. To show why a thing is to be done: what is this but to manifest its motives or values, to reveal that it is becoming, profitable, necessary, and so on? In this way, by giving one a subjective appreciation, actual grace enters into the pivotal point of supernatural good will. It tends to correct that perversity which the prophet Isaias denounces: "Woe to you that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for dark-ness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter" (Isaias 5: 20). It gives one something of that gift of the Messias: "that he may know to refuse the evil, and to choose the good" (Isaias 7:. 15). In modern terms, it enables one to share in Christ's sense of value. The Church has incorporated into the Breviary4 a famous passage of St. Augustine in which he comments on the text: "No one can come to me, except the Father . draw him" (John 6: 44), and uses a quotation from Ver-gil: "If the poet could say, 'Each one's pleasure draws him,'5 not necessity but pleasure, not obligation, but delight, how much more strongly ought we to say that the man is drawn to Christ who is delighted with truth, delighted With beatitude, delighted with justice, delighted with everlasting life, all of which Christ is? . You show a green branch to a sheep and you draw it. Sweets are shown to a child, and he is drawn. Because he runs, he is drawn; he is drawn byloving; without injury to body he is drawn; with bonds of the heart he is drawn. If. earthly delights and pleasures revealed to lovers draw them; does not Christ, revealed by the Father, draw us? For what does the soul desire more strongly than the truth?''° 4Ember Wednesday after Pentecost; Lessons 7-9. 5Eclogues, II, 65. OTractatus 26 in doannem. 177 G. A. ELLARD It may be objected that we know enough or too much already. What we need is not more knowledge, but more willing. Sometimes that is true. But at other times, it may be asked; have we the right kind of knowledge, and enough of that kind? In ~any case, if a man cannot directly make a decision that he would like to make, what do you advise him to try? Have you anything better than that he should reconsider his motivation? Dynamic Knowledge VI. Now let us see if we can discern what kind of knowledge of ~;alues it is that, as it were, magnetizes the will. It is a certain, dynamic knowledge, found to be char-acterized more or less by the following attributes. First, it will present things under the right aspect, that is, it will propose things, not as true--the usual function of knowledge--but as good or evil, lovely or odious, beau-tiful or hideous, and so on. Such are the phases of things that it will bring out into relief. A quotation from the psychologist James will illus-trate what is meant by the right aspect. Consider "the case of an habitual drunkard under temptation. He has made a resolve to reform, but he is now solicited again by the bottle. His moral triumph orfailure lil~erally consists in his finding the right name for the case. If he says that it is a case of not wasting good liquor already poured out, or a case of not being churlish and unsociable when in the midst of friends, or a case of learning something at last about a brand of whiskey he never met before, or a case of celebrating a public holiday, or a case .of stimulating him-self to a more energetic resolve in favor of abstinence than any he has ever yet made, then he is lost. His choice of the wrong name seals his doom. But if, in spite of all the plausible good names with which his thirsty fancy so copi- 178 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL ously furnishes him, he unwaveringly clings to the truer bad name and apperceives the case as that of 'being a drunk-ard, being a drunkard, being a drunkard,' his feet are planted on the road to salvation. He saves himself by thinking rightly.''7 The right aspect is not enough. There must also be a certain quantitg in the knowledge. It must be sufficiently clear, evident, rich, and full. In fact, the closer it approaches equality to the reality, the better. This is a particularly important dement in the realism of dynamic appreciation. Hence, obscure, vague, or hazy conceptions of the most tremendous realities may remain inert and sterile. Moreover, personal rfference is vitally necessary. To see that a thing matters to another may leave me unaffected. I must see the vital importance of it for my own dear self. In the last analysis evaluations must be based on one's past experiences of pleasure, pain, or love. Through these gen-uine experiences present knowledge must be vitalized. A man, for example, who does not remember vividly how it feels to have his finger burned, is in no position to begin to imagine how it would feel to be consumed with raging fires in the infernal regions. If one should never have experi-enced the thrill of unselfish love, one could hardly under-stand God's absolute loveliness and make an act of divine charity. Nor could a man who ha~ never been aroused by created beauty react to the Uncreated Beauty. Personal reference is necessary in another sense also. Great things have many values or suggest many motives, some of them apt to appeal to one and others t6 another. Each one must discover those that evoke interest and response in himself and exploit them. One soul may love God as a father, another as a friend, and a third as a spouse. 7James: Talks to Teachers, pp. 187-188. 179 (3. A. ELLARD Two more marks of dynamic recognition of worth are iramediac~t and iraaqer~. Direct perception of an object is much more apt to stir one than knowledge that is only mediate, discursive, or abstract, because it is closer to the object and more like it. Hence .the weakness, from an affective and effective point of vie.w, of reasoning and argu-ments. Love at sight, even to infatuation, is said to occur at times; but nothing like it is possible when men and women know each other only through description or cor-respondence. A dreadful catastrophe may horrify one who sees it but leave.a reader little affected. To make up for lack of immediate knowledge when it cannot be had, the imagination must be used. The more vivid and realtand rich the imagery, the better. The human mind is depend-ent on the senses and the imagination. Hence, to get at the emotions and, through them, the will, fill the imagination. "Empathy," the ability "to feel-oneself into situations," for example, into the Gospel scenes, or into the conse-quences of one's choices, into the pleasures or pains that may follow them, can compensate to some extent for the deficiencies of indirect knowledge. Happily most of the moral and spiritual values may be contemplated in the concrete in persons who have real-ized them. The scale would range from Christ, the Blessed Virgin, and the Saints down to the humblest person who has Something to be admired and imitated. Actuatit~I of knowledge gives it power. It is of deci-sive importance that the motives be actually before con-sciousness at the critical moments when they are moit needed and least likely to be there. It is not enough that they be stored away in the recesses of the memory. Actual consciousness, for instance, of the ~ttractions of unchaste pleasure may win the battle against merely habitual aware-ness of the reasons for keeping chaste. The force of occa- 180 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD 'q~rlLL sions of sin illustrates well the characteristics of dynamic knowledge that we have been reviewing; the impression they produce is thoroughly realistic. Nooeln.I is also an aid, as it makes a greater appeal to the sensibilities. Hence, ~o keep a good idea from losing its motive power, consider it from new angles and find new beauties in it. Since choice is always comparative, a preference of one thing to another, superiority! of knowledge of one alterna-tive gives it an added chance of being taken. A slight value well known may be preferred to a much greater one less well known. In general, .other things being equal, that alternative will be chosen the values of which are better known or predominant in the focus of consciousness at the time. FinaliSt, a factor of knowledge that induces prefer-ential appreciation is found in the subject himself, namely. a certain s~tmpath~t, based on a natural or supernatural affinity: the "connaturality" discussed by St. Thomas in the Summas. The classical example, from Aristotle on, is the chaste man's knowledge of chastity as opposed to the theoretical ethician's. With respect to the Supreme or Absolute Value, that is, to God, this affinity is founded principally upon the essential relations of the creature to the Creator and of sonship to the Divine Father. Such seems to be the kind of knowledge that leads to willing and to action. It does not make one learned, and may be greater in the ignorant peasant than in a scholar or theologian. But if its object be divine values, it will help to make one wise and holy. If we could make our knowledge and estimation of eternal values equal to our appraisal of temporal things, our probation would be over. We cannot, to cite an 88umraa Tbeologic~, 2a, 2ae, q. 45, a. 2. 181 G. A. ELLARD instance, have an experimental knowledge of God in this life, though the mystics do lay claim to just that or some-thing like it, and in the light of it they conceive for God a love like that fierce, overwhelming, personal love which arises between man and woman. On the other hand, and to our misfortune, the false or minor values of material things do solicit us through precisely that form of knowl-edge which is thoroughly realistic and dynamic. There-fore it is all the more imperative for us to be mindfully aware of the advantages that sensible attractions have over spiritual, values, and in oposition to do whatever we can to compensate for the difference. Practical Corollaries VII. Suppose we consider separately the cases in which ¯ one wishes to influence a will at the moment and in the future, or what is about the same thing, making a resolu-tion now and endeavoring to secure its observance in the future. 1. To move the will now, and to charge it with power, get l~y all available means the maximum possible appreciation of the values or motives that are pertinent, and diminish as much as possible any antagonistic evalua-tion. ¯ First, it is important rightly to discern just what ought to be done, that is, in our case, what the law of God is or what He prefers. Missing this point, through impru-dence or scrupulosity or laxity, is not conducive to good will. But then focus attention, feeling, and effort on the advantages, gains, and reasons for so acting. Not u~bat ought to be done is to be stressed, but the u;h~/'s. Imitate the clever salesman who sells his wares by persuading the potential buyer that it is really to his own interest and profit to buy. Exhortation had better take this form than a tedious repetition of "Let us'es" or "Let us not's." Put 182 PIVOTAL" POINT OF GOOD WILL the accent, not on the rights of authority, but on the advantages to the subject in obeying; these include the values of obedience itself. Even if you urge that it is God's will, try to explain whg He wills it, what values He has in mind. With most persons, begin with a stron.g appeal to self-interest; then proceed to the nobler interests, such as God's; Christ's, souls'. Very especially in case something difficult or distressing be involved, for example, self-- abnegation, or love of the Cross, the greater the disagree-able feature, the greater must be the emphasis on the good aspects and results. This is a simple psychological neces-sity. Some who exhort to abnegation would seem to think the greater the evil, the more it will be welcomed. Mere negatives--"Dont's"--are never inspiring, and therefore negative resolutions should somehow be given a positive character and value, for instance,-by substitution or sub-limation. To acquire a dynamic sense of moral values two chief means are available; first, to learn what those means are; and secondly, by serioi~s reflection and prayer, to take their measure or realize their magnitude. What the values are is to be learned by study and reading or listening to sermons and conferences. We could not attempt to outline them here. But it may be sug-gested that the perfect man Would strive to know and will .the same values that. God Himself wills and to have a simi-lar appreciation of them. They are the Infinite Goodness Itself and the excellences of the divine cosmic plan, cul-minating in divine beatitude for an,gels and men, with immunity from all evil, for eternity. Included in that plan would be the sublime grandeurs of the Incarnation and of its effects in time and eternity. Next in order is to work up an adequate appreciation of these motives, justly to appraise them, to recognize their 183 G. A. ELLARD ' full worth, to feel their force and significance. This is ~o be done principally by serious reflection and prayer, or better, by both together, that is, by mental prayer. This is the great means and hence the supreme importance and efficacy of it in the spiritual life. St. Thomas has a whole article in the Summa to demonstrate that "contemplation or meditation is the cause of devotion.''9 In it he quotes these words from St. Augustine: "the act of the will arises from understanding." Without mental prayer, or something approaching it, one cannot expect much grasp of moral values: such is human nature. The senses and the world overwhelm one with their values, which are in possession. as it were, from the beginning. A counterbalancing per-ception of the worth of things divine does not come with faith nor without effort. The germ of it.is there, but it must be developed. The human spirit is immersed in mat-ter, and if it is to raise itself above material attractions and maintain itself upon that superior level, it-must exert its forces with an energy comparable to that of the powerful motors of the big clippers or flying-fortresses. This means in the beginning hard thinking and much of it, with ener-getic and sustained will-activity corresponding to the light won. In mental prayer.a vitalized and dynamic insight is gained into divine truths and values, the will reacts and responds at once, the appropriate affections are elicited, the consequences of possible courses of action are carefully weighed and felt in anticipation, the correct moral atti-tudes are assumed, practical resolutions are made and their execution rehearsed, many fervent petitions are made, and grace, coming in ever increasing measure, deepens and enhances the whole process. In a word, one is filled with that light, good will, and strength which are needed to ful-fil one's part in God's magnificent plan. 9Summa Theologica, 2a, 2ae, q. 83, a. 3. 184 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL If one cultivati~ m~ntal prayer well and sufficiently, he will also use all the other means to spiritual advancement and thus he will become perfect. If one be faithful in the lower degrees of mental prayer, he may be led on even to mystical contemplation, wherethe labor will be less, and the infused light, appreciation, and love may be incom-parably greater. Mostly in the intimate commerce of con-templation do the spouses of God come to their peculiar experience and all-absorbing love of Him. The funda-mental difference between a mere believer, a person of medi~ ocre virtue, and a saint, seems to be that, whereas they all assent to the same truths, the believer hardly does more, the mediocre person feels to some extent what they mean, and the saint truly realizes their significance. All the motives, general and particular, having been considered, they are to be assembled and associated together, so that one may recall the others, and then they are to be thrown into the scales against their false contraries, and proposed for acceptance to the will, with an inexorable "either. or!" 2. To aid in securing future execution of a resolution, four means in particular are effective: recollection, associa-tion, habituation, and experience. Recollection will tend tO prevent the light and warmth of one's vivid appreciation from vanishing into the dark-n~ ss. God and divine things are in themselves interesting, and if one's insight into them has been sufficient, interest in them will spontaneously spring up. Then without too much difficulty interest will direct attention; attention to divine values will keep them in the field of consciousness; and naturally the affections and will should follow. One should foresee as far as possible the occasions in which one's constancy will be put to the test, and deter-mine in advance by .what precise means one is going to 185 G. A. ELLARD react. "The modern psychology of will teaches that mere volition accomplishes nothing, unless a definite "way of behaving has been planned and practised.''1° Then the occa-sion, the resolution with its means, ~nd the motives, already organized among themselves, are to be associated together in thought as firmly as possible, so that when the occasion comes, it may recall into the focus of consciousness the reso-lution with its means, and this in turn the whole constella-tion of motives. Thus their cumulative force will be available, and successful action may be expected. To illustrate by'an example from Lindworsky: John notices that whenever he meets Charles on the way to work, he falls into uncharitable conversation. He adds to his gen-eral resolve not tofail against charity this means, that when he meets Charles again, he will promptly open a discussion of such or such a topic. Thus he links together all four: -the occasion, the r.esolution, the precise means, and the ¯ motives. 1~ All the procedures indicated in the preceding pages can be cultivated more and more until they become solid l~abits of virtue. Thus greater sureness, facility, and perfection in good are acquired. With every success in accomplishing what one desires, one actually feels and experiences to a certain extent the fruition of one's ideals and values, and thus one's appreciation of them becomes ever more realistic, and more like the divine or Christiike sense of what is of value. If with sufficient realism you. see that your treasure is ~n the Infinite Goodness of the Blessed Trinity and in the advantages of the divine plan, you will find your will there also. lOLindworsky: The P~cbolog~/ of Asceticism, p. 38. ~lbid.o p. 37. 186 Scruples Versus !:he Human Gerald Kelly~ S.3. THIS sketch concerns two characters, both of whom .are "| purely fictitious. Any resemblance to any person in real life.is a mere coincidence. One character is called Humanus, because he represents the ordinary conscientious human being, one who is.cheerfully content to be .~'like the rest of men," The other character is Scrupulosus, so-called because he typifies the victims of that gnawing and unfounded fear of sin known as scruples. ' For Scrupulosus, a supreme difficulty is to appreciate what may be called "the human way of acting." It is hard to.define this human way. It expresses itself in a quiet resignation to the fact that human problems cannot be solved with the exactness of mathematical problems. ~.It is an essential requisite for peace among men and for interior peace with God and oneself. Humanus takes this human way in full, easy stride. A reliable man tells him something; he believes it without struggle. True, the .man might be wrong, might be lying, using a mental reservation, or even deceiving himself. But Humanus does not tr6uble himself about these things, unless there is some reM evidence.to make him suspect them. When a man gives him money, Humanus does not bite it or ring it on a counter. He knows the possibility of counter-feit money; but he knows .too that social life demands that we practise a certain amount of trust in the good will of others. (Incidentally, the author once lived in a place where there must have been a great deal of. counterfeiting. Every time one paid for something in coins, a cautious clerk rang the coin on~the counter. It was most distressing.) . ¯ . Humanus follows the.same human way in his dealings with Go&and himself.God made him huma'n; God.ought GERALD KELLY to be content if he simply acts humanly. And he has enough troubles in life without suspecting himself unduly. Scrupulosus can follow the human way in his dealings with other men; but in those things which concern God and himself he is decidedly inhuman. He seems to thinl~ that, in dealing with God, he must have God's own unerring and penetrating vision of the human heart; that in dealing with himself none of the canons of human peace are applicable. Perhaps a few examples will make this clear. The Sacrament of Penance, truly a Sacrament of peace according .to our Lord's designs, affords no real peace to Scrupulosus. Definitely, it is a torture; a torture to go. a torture to stay away. And the reason for the torment, to put it simply, is that the reception of this Sacrament involves four elements---examination of conscience, con-fession, contrition, satisfaction--each of which can be fulfilled only :in a human way. Suppose we follow Humanus and Scrupulosus through an examination of conscience. Humanus says a few pre-liminary prayers, then looks into-his soul. This is riot a very strenuous process for him;in fact, it verges on sheer routine. Humanus is conscious of the fact that he could improve his method, but he also knows that he fulfills all the essentials. Mortal sins first; and it does not take him long to find :them. Heis no laxist. He knows a mortal sin when he sees one; but he. knows too that they are big enough to be seen with the naked eye. On some Com-mandments he does not even examine himself. Idolatry, murder, robbing banks--all such things are off his list. He would waste his time searching his soul for them. If he does find that he has sinned seriously, he notes the number of times; and if he cannot recall the number, he is content to add the saving word "about." If he is doubtful about the serious sinfulness of~anything--well--he is doubtful: 188 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN '~AY There is no use wrestling with the doubt now; if he could not solve it before, he is less likely to solve it now. Venial sins? Humanus knows there were many little things, but it is often hard to cat~ilogue them. He selects two or three, and phrases them as best he can. Sometimes he numbers venial sins, sometimes he doesn't; and he" knows tha~ the number need not be confessed. Finally, Humanus makesan act Of contrition. In this, too, there is a trace of dry routine. Humanus has often resolved to "polish it up" a bit. Contrition never causes him worry; though it has at times puzzled him. However, he has solved the puzzle in the following manner. When a friend offends him and afterwards comes to him, holds out his hand and says he is sorry, Humanus takes the hand and forgives. He never looks to see if there are tears in the man's eyes. He does not stop before forgiving to ask: "Now, John, are you sure you're sorry? Can you swear you're sorry? Do you t:eel sorry? Maybe you're deceiving me, or yourself?" No, Humanus does none of these things; so he solved his puzzle about contrition by deciding that God doesn, t act that way, either. God is content with our just being human. Scrupulostis also examines his conscience! After lengthy preparatory prayers, he finally musters the courage to plunge into the .abysmal depths of his black soul. He goes after mortal sins with searchlight and microscope; and at the end of the search he is amazed that he hasn't found any. That cannot be right. There must be some; at least, there might be some some grim deed that his lax conscience is covering up. Further examination still fails to reveal a clear-cut mortal sin, but by this time he has managed to work up a doubt. Now, is he doubtful? He'd better con-. less it as certain, because if he only thinks he is doubtful and really is not doubtful he will be deceiving the priest. 189 GERALD KELLY As for venial sins, he must have scores of them. Missed morning prayers--distractions in the prayers he did say! He has been told that missing morning prayers is really no .sin, that there is no law of either God or man that says: You must pray in the morning. But be ought to pray in the morning. As for distractions, he has also been told that when involuntary they are not sins, and that even when voluntary they are merely small irreverences. But be ought not to get distracted; it is base ingratitude for him to neglect God in that manner. He'd better give the number of the distractions: 15--no, perhaps it was only 14. He cannot make up his mind, so he decides to say 15; in fact, he finally decides to give the whole background of the ghastly affair. And so on. It is time for him to go to confession. He is not ready, but he will try. Humanus makes his confession, returns to his pew and says his penance and a few prayers of devotion. The time passes very quietly. He leaves the church, full of peace and ready, as he has often.expressed it, "to be hit by a truck." In a general way, he knows that his .confession is not mechanically perfect. Sometimes be does not say things just as he had planned them; he becomes confused, dis-tracted, or even a bit embarrassed. Also--and he has this on the authority of adevout priest--he knows that the confessor may get distracted, or even nod a bit. But this percentage of error does not greatly concern Humanus. God Himself arranged that this Sacrament should be received and administered by human beings. The essentials are quite easy to fulfill; the accidentals allow both the priest and the penitent the opportunity to strive for greater perfectio.~l and increase in humility. It should: be evident from the story of his preparation that no great peace floods the soul of Scrupulosus as he emerges from the confessional. Nevertheless, he grits his 190 SCRUPI~S VERSUS THE HUMAN ~rAY teeth and kneels dowh to say his penance. Three .Hail Marys! He literally "tackles" the first one. But in the middle something goes wrong; he must have missed a word. He starts again, and then again; but he cannot satisfy himself that that Hail Mary is properly said. As he pauses'in desperation, the whole blurred story of the confession begins to unfold before his mind. Nothing was said right. The priest must have misunderstood him com-pletely. The fact that he got only three Hail Marys con-firms him in this fear; if the priest had understood him cor-rectly, he would have given him at least a Rosary. At this moment, a new source of interior torment opens up. Even if the confession had been good, the absolution could not be valid because he did not make a real: act of con-trition. He just went through some words. God must know that he was not really sorry. And his confessions have been that way for a long time; he'simply must make a gen-eral confession. He has made general confessions before without any subs.equent peace of soul, but this one will be different. We might take Holy Communion as another example of the difference between Humanus and Scrupulosus. It should be one of the supreme consolations of the Cath-olic's life. The essentials for its reception are very small: the state of grace, acquired by Sacramental absolution, if need be; and the keeping of.the fast from midnight. Humanus finds the fulfillment of these conditions simple enough. He is satisfied with normal, .human assur-ance that he is in the state of grace. If he doubts about a serious sin, he generally prefers to go to confession, but he knows he has no strict obligation to do so, and he is con-- tent on occasions merely to make an act of contrition and go to Communion. The fast presents him with no prob-lem at all. The law is a safeguard to the reverence due the 191 GERALD KELLY Blessed Sacrament. It forbids eating and drinking after midnight. Humanus knows what ordinary people look upon as eating and drinking, and he does not have to con-sult a chemist~ to find out just what is food. or a physiologist to discover precisely what is meant by eating. All these things are so many thorns for S~'rupulosus. How does he know he is in the state of grace? He can't prove it. He is not sure he can make an act of contrition, so he must always go to confession when in doubt. It may be that his confessor has assured him again and again that, in his present trial, he mayalways~go to Communion, no matter what his doubts, no matter how many sins he thinks he has committed. Even after this and though he knows that the Providence ofGod guides souls through superiors and confess.ors, yet his case is different, and the confessor does not really understand it. As for the fast, here is but one of Scrupulosus'.many hard experiences with it. He is on his way to Mass. His lips tickle. .He rubs his coat-sleeve over his mouth. A moment later he feels something strange in his mouth-- some lint from his coat, he thinks! He gathers all his salivary forces to remove it, but he is too late. He swallows. Well, that's the end. He has broken his fast, he may not go to Communion. This is his first conviction, but in church a gleam of saving common sense is still able to pierce the fog of fear and he does go to Holy Communion. Later the fear returns with a vengeance. He made a sacrilegious Communion. After that, one thing leads to another. He begins to notice a strange taste in his mouth every morning--the lint from the bedclothes! He tries again and again to remove it; but the consciousness of the lint remains, and with it the conviction that he may not receive Communion. There are two ways of solving this lint problem. One 192 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN WAY way is to consult a trained theologic/n, wh~ might show Scrupulo~us by keen argumentation that lint is not food, or who might indicate that, even if. it were food, it was not taken "in the manner of food." This is a perfectly legiti-mate method of solving the problem, but hardly a satis-factory one for Scrupul0sus. It allows for too much quibbling, and, even when it does convince, its appeal is only to the intellect. Scrupulosug needs something that will impress his imagination and thus remove the emo-tional pressure of his fears. The second method is therefore a much better one for -Scrupulosus. It is a method suggested by an old and experienced diagnostician of his problem. It is very simple. "You take awoolly blanket, the woollier the bet-ter. Seize firmly in both hands, raise to the mouth with-out flinching, and bite hard. When you have a good bite, then you chew thoroughly and trot to swallow.'" This is a guaranteed cure. After one such experiment Scrupulosus needs no metaphysical discussion to be °con: vinced that human beings do not eat coats or blankets. In this matter, at least, he will be content with ?he human toad. No one-should gather from this brief sketch of Huma-nus and Scrupulosus that the latter does not wish to act as others do. His difficulty .is more subtle. Briefly put, it amounts to thi~: he cannot relax. 'He is like a sick man who fights an anesthetic; or, perhaps more accurately, he is like a man who will take the anesthetic, even if it kills him. So it is with Scrupulosus; at times he fights his fears, at other times he clenches his fists and says he will be human. Neither method will help him. He must relax under the pressure of his fear. This is not easy to do; yet it can be done if only one retains the power of laughing at oneself. For Scrupulosus, a sense of humor is more precious than the gift of tears. 193 Nint:s t:or Sacris!:ans Gerald Ellard, S.J. SACRISTANS for whom its cost or other considerations make Self-Lite Charcoal undesirable may readily secure the advantage of a large glowing surface with ordinary charcoal in the following way. After the unlighted charcoal ~has been placed in the censer, a little wood-alcohol is allowed to, drip on it and soak into it. It is then ignited, and, when the alcohol has burned away, the charcoal will be alight through and through and thus able, when fed with incense, to send up what is actually something like a pillar of smoke, a symbol of prayer visible to the entire congre-gation. The matter of securing the most suitable incense within the means of all is no small concern, and prompts one to mention a variety now being used with eminent satisfac-tion. Its cost is very low' but it is not on sale, as far as we know, in the church-goods houses. Trees of Syria exude a balm that is known in trade as. olibanum. This fragrant and gummy substance is widely used in varnish-making. It is graded in trade circles by the size of the lumps: egg (large) and tears (small). Tears of olibanum make an ideal incense.:~ Stocks available in this country may not.~ last much longer, but up to the present time wholesale drug dealers have had no difficulty in supplying it. The tears should not be powdered, as much of the fragrance would be lost, but burned as they come. In sacristies serving a large number of priests the prob-lem of quickly providing each priest with an alb of just the right length often proves formidable. A Chicago church 194 HINTS TO SACRISTANS where many Masses are the daily rule has at the edge of its alb-cabinet, at shoulder height, an unobtrusive measure indicating the number of inches from the floor. A priest has just to hold up an alb to the measure to see if it is the proper length for his use. It may no longer be news .to sacristans that candle~ burners in pyrex glass are now available in all candle sizes. In style they follow-not the older lamp-chimney shape, which "black out" tOO much of the candle flame and cause difficulties in lighting the candles, but the snug, dose-fitting sleeve pattern. The pyrex burners have all the advantages of the better type of metal burners, with the big additional one of beirig practically invisible. Sacristans shudder to see priests, in adjusting the man-iple, disregard the little tab provided for pinning, .and run the pin.into the precious fabric of the maniple itself. This is riot perverseness, but a measure of necess!ty (or rather, convenience), inasmuch as many of these little .tabs are too narrow to aliow one to run a pin crossways. Many new vestments now provide a shield-shape, or even semicircular, tab which affords ample room for pinning without being conspicuous. In repairing vestments sacristans might well provide such "pin-space." A strict law of the Church prescribes that the priest mix a "very small quantity;', of water with the wine to be consecrated at Mass. Most priests wish to take only a few drops of ,water; and sacristans can help them in this regard by filling the .water cruet almost to the top. When the cruet is pract.ica!ly full, it is easy to shake out a few drops. This is not so easy to do when the neck of the cruet is empty. 195 The Presumed Permission James E. Risk, S.J. THE philosophers tells us that what happens by chance happens rarely and cannot be foreseen. The Church, in her legislation, makes provision for many unusual situations that have arisen in the course of her past history, and may arise again. Hence she grants to all priests emer-gency faculties such as to absolve from censures, to assist at marriages and to perform other priestly functions. Fac-ulties of this kind are not granted to all priests save in cases of spirituhl emergency. Now, the most conscientious reli-gious, too, will find himself at times in an unforeseen situ-ation where permissions required by his vow of poverty or obedience are needed; where the delay necessarily in-volved in obtaining such permissions cannot be admitted. Unusual circumstances arisirig from the uncertainties of travel or health may, for example, produce a situation calling for the legitimate application of the principles gov-erning the presumed permission. Since actions based on presumed permissions should be the exceptioh in the normal life ofa religious, the older theologians took great care to limit their number to the minimum, lest a too liberal application of the-norms of presumption tend to obviate the necessity of asl~ing for many of the ordina~ry permissions. Sincere reflection and a normal exercise of foresight will lead a religious to limit the number of presumed permissions, while a ready ad-mission by superiors that unforeseen situations are, from time to time, inevitable, will prompt them to make allow-ances for the reasonable presumptions of their subjects. Though the question of presumed permissions is by no means limited to the field of religious poverty, it is chiefly from this angle that we shall endeavor to examine it. 196 THE ~RESUMED ~ERMISSION Various Kif~ds or: Permissions Progress in the exercise of religious poverty demands an accurate knowledge of the various kinds of permis-sions granted by superiors. By obtaining permission to acquire, dispose of, and use material things possessing some economic value such as books, money- and the like, the religious is faithful to the obligations freely accepted when he vowed poverty. He does not act in his own name nor as an independent proprietor, but as a poor man who has nothing that he can .truly call his own. Acting w~th-out permission in these matters, he violates his vow by committing what many moralists choose to call a "sin of proprietorship." They say that such a religious acts like a man who is bound by no vow of poverty and is independ-ent of any superior in the acquisition, use, or disposal of property. The commentators on the religious life usually speak of superiors as granting permissions; though in most communities there is generally appointed an assistant su-perior who is empowered to grant many of the ordinary permissions demanded by the obligations of the vow of poverty. Our purpose in examining the nature of the pre-sumed permission leads us to comment briefly on the other forms of permission employed by a religious in the observ-ance of his vow. This will serve to clear the ground for a more accurate understanding of the presumed permission. We spea~k of an express permission as one given by word of mouth or in writing, indicating unmistakably the mind of the superior. A tacit permission, as the very name implies, is p[udently considered as granted from the silence of the superior, who is aware of certain actions that are governed by poverty or obedience. The axiom "silence gives consent" may be reasonably applied when circum-stances are such that, if the superior objected, he would voice his disapproval. An implied permission is one that 197 JAMES E. R~sK is contained in another permission. The permission of a superior, for example, authorizing a /eligious to make a trip, implies the permission to use the funds necessary for traveling. A general permission may embrace many acts of the same or different species. In some religious commu-nities there prevails the practice of renewing each month general permissions in virtue of which a religious may ac-quire or dispose of objects of a very small economic value, such as articles of devotion and the like. The extent of such permission depends on-the constitutions, rules and customs Of the institute. A particular permission .is granted for an individual case. Such a permission, how-ever, if the superior so desired, might be extended not only to a singie occasion but to several occasions calling for the same permission. Thus, permission granted to an ailing religious to consult a specialist might be limited to a single visit or extended to several, according to the nature of the indisposition requiring attention. The Presumed Permission Authors who have treated of the obligations of the religious life agree that a religious is justified in presuming permission when, owing to some inconvenience in obtain-ing permission without delay, he prudently decides that if the superior in the present circumstances, were .asked for the same permission, he would readily grant it. Now be-fore proceeding further, let it be noted that there is one very substantial difference between the presumed permis-sion and. every other kind. All permissions save the pre-sumed permission have this note in common, namely, that they are expressions of the will of the superior who knows the wish of the subject and freely grants it. In doing so, he says, equivalently at least, "I grant you permission for this or that object." Yet when we examine the presumed per- 198 THE I~RESUMED PERMISSION mission, we find that the superior cannot say this for the simple reason that he is unaware of the subject's wish. This leads us to conclude that the presumed permission is, not a permission in the strict sense of the word, but it is a legitimate substitution; and the act resulting from a sin-cere presumption, whether it lies in the sphere of poverty or obedience, is quite in accord with the obligations arising from the religious vows. The religious is acting, not in his own name, but with a clear dependence on the will of the superior. To come more properly to an examination of the pre-sumed permission, the following points of division are suggested by the definition of the presumed permission given above. We must consider: I) On the part of thereligious who presumed: a) the inabitit~/ tO obtain permission in one its ordinarg forms, b) the motioes sufficient to justifg a presump-tion; c) a prudent conclusion. Z) On the part of the superior: the different~mental attitudes towards a presumed permission. Our first condition requisite for the legitimate pre-suming of a permission is the inability to obtain permis-sion in one of its ordinary forms because of the absence of the superior. The most circumspect religious may encoun-ter such a situation when both superior and assistant are .abse, nt or indisposed or so occupied as to permit no inter-ruption. If the proposed action of the religious is so urgent as to exclude a delay until such time as the superior may be contacted, permission may be presumed, supposing the .other conditions are fulfilled. In the second place sufficient motives, reducible to ne- 199 JAMES E. RISK cessity or utility, are required to make a presumpt.ion law-ful. Let us suppose that, while traveling, two sisters are caught in a heavy rainstorm that gives little hope of imme-diate abatement. An umbrella would be a very welcome addition to their equipment in the present predicament. To purchase an umbrella without delay may be instru-mental in protecting their health as. well as their clothing. In such straits it would be quite unnecessary to look for a telephone so as to obtain express permission to make this necessary purchase. The same religious now proceed to browse through a book store while waiting for a train. To their pleasant surprise a rare and very valuable book, much sought after by their superior, meets their eye. It is available at an extremely reduced rate. A real service would be rendered the convent by the immediate purchase of such a book. A situation such as this might even justify the conclusion that the permission to buy the book ought to be presumed. The prudent in.terpretation of the superior's mind, the third requisite for a valid presumption, must never be wanting. On this point, the commentators supply us with expressions that furnish a key to the solution of many a problem that in practice may arise when we wish to justify a presumed permission. They say: "_ . it is prudently judged that permission would be given if asked"; "Per-mission reasonably presumed is sometimes sufficient"; "To presume permission is to act conformably to the will of the $a p er" t "o't ; and so forth. "Prudent"l y" , reasonabl"y, and "conformably to the will of the superior" indicate that a well-founded judgment enters into the very character of the presumed permission. Resting on the basis of whim or hallucination, instead of prudence and reflection, the act of the presuming religious is not to be dignified by the title of a permission; it is rather a gratuitous-presumption or 200 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION the sin of proprietorship. The reasons tha~ justify the prudent judgment will at least approximate those which in ordinary circumstances influence the conscientious superior in consenting to the requests of his subjects. Such reasons will be reduced ulti-mately to necessity or utility in harmony with the norms of the particular religious institute of which both superior and subject are members. For each religious order or con-gregation professes a more or less definite standard in these matters, admitting, for example,, in the matter of poverty, the use of some things as necessary or useful, while exclud-ing others as superfluous or even detrimental to the. spirit-ual interests 6f the religious. With this in mind, the reli-gious about to presume a permission knows that the habit-ual attitude of the superior is to abide by these norms in granting permissions, that the object desired in the present emergency has been granted on other occasions by the same superior, that there is no reason that leads him to suspect that in the present situatioi~ the superior would act differ-ently. Thus, a religi6us says to himself, equivalently at least, "If, here and now; I should ask the superior to grant me this request, I am reasonably certain that he would readily grant it." He comes to this conclusion after hav-ing deliberated on his particular rule of life and the habit-ual inclination of ~i conscientious superior. The "if" clause just expressed is always at least implied in the legitim~te presumption. This explains why the presumed permission is sometimes called the conditioned permission. The per-mission that would involve the acceptance of gifts of an incon.sequential value can be much more readily presumed than the more costly kind. Needless to say, in practise the reasoning process re-quired for a presumed permission is far more quickly con-cluded than described. While walking through town, a 201 religious priest meets a crippled beggar, whom he knows to be sincere. He gives the poor man a few small coins on the presumption that his superior would not object. His own particular institute encourages devotion .to the poor and he has seen his superior, a conscientious religious, act in the same generous fashion. His presumption is reason-able; he has "conformed" his action to the .reasonably in-terpreted mind of the superior. I.s. a religious who has legitimately presumed a permis-sion, say in a matter governed by his vow of poverty, later obliged to notify the superior of his act?. The rule may call for such a manifestation in every case of a presumed permission. Supposing such a prescription does not exist, one would not be obliged to notify the superior of articles now consumed which'had been received b~r way of a legiti-mately presumed permission. Objects Of a more enduring nature, received in virtue of a presumed permission, should be made knov~n to the superior. A kind friend, for exam-ple, meets a' religious and invites him to take dinner with him. The religious accepts his friend's gracious invitation. Before parting, the same kind friend presents the religious with a very excellent volume. To what is the religious obliged in the case? We suppose, first of all, that his pre-sumptions in both cases are justified. If the rule of this religious obliges him to manifest all presumed permissions to the superior, his duty is clear. Without such a provision made by his rule, he would not be obliged to acquaint his superior with the fact that he had prudently presumed to take dinner with his friend. If he wishes to keep the vol-ume which he had lawfully presumed to accept, he would be obliged to approach the superior for permission. For while it was inconvenient to make contact with the supe-rior at the moment when he received the book, there should be no special inconvenience involved in asking for permis- 202 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION' sion on his beturn home. In other words, he can lawfully ¯ presume only as long as conditions justify it. Attitudes of Superior Having examined the conditions that warrant a pre-s. umed permission, let us now look briefly at the different attitudes with which a superior may view such presump-tions on the part ~of the subject. We may reduce them to three classes. 1) The first type of superior may be so disposed that he is ready enough, if asked, to grant the ordinary permis-sions, and does not object to the reasonable presuming of the same permissions. It is possible that he has. expressed himself on this point.To ex.emplify: a religious of the community of this superior knows that permission to sub-scribe to useful periodicals is readily granted. He knows too from his close acquaintance with the superior that there is no objection to presumed permissions in ordinary mat-ters. Such a religious, provided there be no insincerity on 'the point, .may presume to subscribe under the ordinary conditions. For he knows, in the language of the theo-logians, that his superior is opposed neither to. the sub-stance of the act (the~ subscription) nor to the mode or manner (by way of a presumed permission). 2) Another superior, perhaps .with a view of check-ing abuse in the matter of poverty, may be decidedly op-posed to his subjects' presuming permissions. So strong may be his attitude that, outside of cases of real emergency, he is prepared to veto the presumed permissions of his sub-jects. A presumed permission then, outside of extraordi-nary circumstances, would be tantamount to a violation of poverty or obedience as the case might be. To resume the example of subscription for periodicals. The superior in question is not opposed to the subscriptions to useful :peri- 203 JAMES E. RISK odicals. So strongly, however, is he opposed to presumed permissions, that he refuses to allow a subject to subscribe without first obtaining express permission. In this case he would object to the substance of the act (the act of subscribing') not because he failed to appreciate the cul-tural value of useful periodicals, but because he would be opposed to the toad/ir~ which such a subscription were made (i.e. by way of the presumed permission). 3) S~ill a third attitude might be evidenced towards the matter of presuming. Admitting the use of presumed permissions as sometimes justifiable, a superior may reveal his general attitude towards presumed permissions as one of reluctance and displeasure. Such a disposition, however, would not necessarily in'dicate his refusal to ratify a pre-sumption once made. The subject of this superior sub-scribes to a periodical and on the arrival of the first issue is reminded that the superior would gladly have granted the permission if asked. Has this religious violated poverty? He may have sinned venially because of the toay in which he obtained the subscription, that is, by presu~ming instead of asking. The substance of the act, namely, the mere sub-scribing, would not necessarily be'sinful, because the supe-rior would have gladly permitted it. Obedience too could be violated, if the religious deliberately acted against the expliCit order of the superior. To complete our consideration of the various attitudes which mayinfluence a superior in .these matters, this ques-tion may be proposed. Suppose that after a sincere and prudent presumption is made, it is totally repudiated by the superior? If, for example, a book were purchased in such circumstances, what could be done? Strictly. speak-ing, the superior might order the return of the book and reimbursement on the part of the proprietor of the book-store, if this were feasible. That would be for the superior 204 THE ~RESUMED PERMISSION to decide. The religious, who in good' faith erroneously estimated his superior's attitude, would in no wise be guilty of a violation of poverty. For in the case he sincerely inter-preted the mind of his superior and concluded that the con-ditions justified his transaction. Conclusion In conclusion, let .us remember that the presumed or interpretative permission, as some authors call it, has a defi-nite place in the life of an observant religious, but that p!ace is reserved for occasions when the ordinary methods to obtain permission cannot be observed. The conscien-tious religious, as we have already stated, will rarely fail to obtain whatever permis.sions are ordinarily necessary by the more express method of asking the superior. A habitual use of presumption can easily lead to laxity in the observ-ance of poverty so essential to a life in religion that is to be led with any degree of sincerity. What must never be. for-gotten is that cooperation is always necessary in the observ-ance of the vow of poverty: the superior should show him-self ready to grant any request in keeping with the particu-lar grade of poverty professed in hisinstitute, since it is not unknown for subjects to violate poverty rather than ap-proach a superio/Who has shown himself less gracious in the question of permissions. Subjects have been known to deliberately violate poverty, I say, not to mention the gratuitous or unnecessary presumption which is another name for the sin of proprietorship. The religious should be habitually disposed to express that dependence on supe-riors for the use of temporal things, not out of a spirit of servitude but out of a desire to imitate Him Who was hungry and Who had nowhere to lay His head. 205 ook Reviews PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS FERFECTION for the use of the Merlst Brothers of the Schools. Trensleted from the slx~h French edition; revised end enlercjed. Pp. 567. To be procured from the Marlst Brothers, St. Ann's Hermltege, Poughkeepsie, N.Y. $1.~0. Though this book was written for the Marist Brothers, it could be of great service to other religious as well. In fact, it would make an excellent manual of introduction or a good brief guidebook to the spiritual iife in general and particularly to the religious life. It might be used as a sort of text-book for young religious; it was designed to serve that purpose for the Marist novices. It ~s small, but rich in content; its form is that of. question a~ad answer; in presentation of its material, it is systematic, clear, and definite. From it one could get a well ordered and fairly comprehensive knowledge of the practice of the spiritual and religious life. The Introduction supplies general notions on the end of man, holiness, the religious state, and religious institutes. Part I is entitled "General Means of Christian Perfection," and deals with the desire for perfection, prayei, mental prayer, exercises of piety, conscience, Confession, Communion, direction, spiritual reading, the exercise of the presence of God, and various devotions. In Part II, "General Means of Perfection in the Religious Life," are treated religious vocal tion, the noviceship and religious profession, the vows, and the corre-sponding virtues. It closes with a chapter on "Regularity." Part III is concerned with the obstacles to Christian and religious perfection, and the fourth part is devoted to the virtues. To many of the answers "to the questions are added brief further explanations in smaller type. On many points of major importance select quota-tions from the Fathers and Doctors of the Church are givefi; in these the' influence of St. Francis de Sales and St. Alphonsus Liguori is noticeable. The m~iterial make-up, paper, print, and binding, are neat and attractive. A full table of contents, an analytical tab!e, and a good index make it easy to find what the book contains on any particular point.--G. A. ELLARD, S.,J. BLESSED ARETHEY THAT HUNGER. By the Reverend Richard Graef, C;.S.Sp. Trensleted by Sister Mary Hildegerd Windecker, M. A., Sister of the Blessed Sacrament for Indians end Colored People. 206 BOOK REVIEWS Pp. ~vli + 175. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York, 1942. $2.00. Father Graef attempts in various ways to encourage the good Catholic in the practic.e of a strong and living faith. His main lines of argumentation are the following: A dynamic faith is necessary for personal sanctity; because sanctity demands self-renunciation, and this renunciation will not be made unless one sees clearly and power-fully the value of making it. Such evaluation is had only in the light of faith. Moreover, supernatural efficiency demands the work both of Christ and of the soul. The principal part of the soul's cooperation consists in genuine, earnest desire; and the source of such desire is faith. Finally, the apostolic influence that each soul is called upon to exert in the world, and thus the ultimate mastery of the world by apostolic souls, can be appreciated only when the world is viewed with the eyes of faith. The" author has made frequent and apt use of the Sacred Scrip-tures. Each of the main sections of the book is divided into numer-ous brief topics. The meditative reading of one or two of these topics might prove, helpful to those wlJo are accustomed to make their men-tal prayer in that way.--G. KELLY, S.,I. THE MASS OF BROTHER MICHEL. By Michael Ken÷. Pp. 307. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1942. $2.S0. Here is a new Catholic novel with an entirely different theme. The setting of the story is sixteenth-century France, a turbulent his-torical period for that country, owing to the threatening Surge of heresy. The spreading falsehoods of Calvin and Luther provide' a dramatic background for the lives of the de Guillemont family, about which the story is told. The interest centers in Michel de Guillemont, the elder son and heir. It is his story from his sincere, impetuous love of Louise to his final unyielding love of God and his Faith in the self-oblation of martyrdom. We share in the tragedy before his contemplated mar-riage that was partly due to the jealousy of his brother Paul and that led to his becoming a saintly religious. We are carried along from the injustice and cruelty of his father to ~he providential meeting with the und.erstanding Father Andr4. We sympathize with him in his deep suffering when the priesthood is denied him. Brother Michel's courageous acceptance of God's will and his intense love of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass keep the interest keen up to the power- 207 BOOK REVIEWS ful climax of his death. The subordinate characters of the least-resisting Paul, the unscru-pulous Anne; the bitter Louise, the heretic Armand, the lovable Father Andre, and others are well portrayed. The story is told with excel-lent description and good use of suspense. The tragic atmosphere is relieved by romance and clever humor. The one striking weakness is the characteristic trait of the modern novel: it leaves untold the retribution due to some charaCters. The Mass of Brother Michel shows the triumph of grace over .personal pain and loss, sin, and human frailty. The passages that deal with the spiritual consolation of the Mass, the reason for pain and suffering in this life, God's love for the sinner, and the courage coming to the soul through prayer are worth reading again and again. Priests, in particular, will find here many inspiring thoughts for practical use and may grow in their appreciation of the privilege of offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.---A. J. DEEMAN, S.J. FAST BY THE ROAD. By John Moody. Pp. xiv + 308. The MacM~llan C~rnpany, New Yorl~, 1941. $2.50. The Wall Street expert on investments and kindred subjects who occasioned not a little surprise a decade ago by embracing the Catholic Faith and reporting the event in the popular The Long Road Home has a new treat for his expanding reading public. The present vol-ume, to quote from the author's foreword, is "an attempt to explain in simple language or by illustration, certain teachings and view. points to be found within the Church which are often misunder-stood by non-Catholics. All this is merely incidental to the general purpose, which is primarily to tell of some of the experiences of one convert .during his first decade as a Catholic." Mr. Moody writes simply, entertainingly, and with precision on a wide variety of subjects connected with his Faith. In his chapters the hard-headed, efficient business man, with the help of God's grace, approaches the Truth. He turns back his cuffs and proceeds to defend it and, campaign for it with gusto. The chapters are topical for the most part, ranging with consider-able agility back and forth over some focal point of Catholicity by means of observation, analysis, chance discussion, and illustrative anecdote. Their cumulative effect is to deepen one's gratitu.de for the gift of Faith and to jolt one anew with the realization that most of 208 BOOK REVIEWS one's non-Catholic friends and neighbors are totally ignorant of or gr6ssly misunderstand the Catholic concept of supernatural life, and are usually indifferent to it. And Mr. Moody, so thoroughly at home in the Church after his ten years as a Catholic, writes with more than ordinary authority and perception of .the money-mad, speed-benumbed, materialistic American mentality. The book is recommended especially to those in search of reading matter never heavy or tiring yet providing food for serious thought --and prayer. The chapters m~y be read in any order, and any or all of them would be suitable for refectory reading.--C. DEMUTH, THE CATHOLIC REVIVAL IN ENGLAND. Pp. ix -I- 102. The MacMillan Company, MEDIEVAL HUMANISM. By the Reverend Pp. ix -!- 103. The MacMillan Company, By John J. O'Connor. New York, 1942. $1.00. Gerald G. Walsh, S.J. New York, 1942. $1.00. These books are respectively the third and fourth volumes in The Christendom Series. According to the announcement of the publishers, "this is a series of popular books on important topics in the history of Christendom, prepared under the auspices of the Con-fraternity of Christian Doctrine . The books are intended to provide informative reading for both Catholic and non-Catholic readers; for study clubs in the parochial units of~the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine: for study groups in the Newman Clubs: as collateral texts in colleges, normal schools, and senior high ~and preparatory schools.'~ Both books appear to measure up very well to the purpose of the series. Professor O'Connor's book gives a fine sweeping picture of that very important period in English life known as "The Catholic Revival," the story of the gradual breaking away from the tyranny of th~ penal laws to the winning of freedom and influence for Cath-olics. Father Walsh's book puts within the reach of the ordinarily intelligent reader with good educational background an illuminating study of the meaning of "Humanism" and of the development of Christian Humanism through the middle ages till it reached its high point in Dante. Bibliographical notes are appended to each book. Father Walsh has also included an abstract for study and review which should prove very helpful.~. KELLY, S.d. 209 Decisions o[ !:he Holy MEANS OF COMMUNICATING WITH THE HOLY SEE A communication from the Most Reverend Apostolic Delegate to the Most Reverend Ordinaries reads as follows:. "In order to remedy, the difficulties of correspondence with the Holy See, His Eminence the Cardinal Secretary of State has'directed me to inform the Diocesan and Religious Ordinaries and Superiors of this country'that in the present circumstances they may recur to the Holy See through this Apostolic Delegation, and so avail themselves of the facilities at our disposal. This office makes frequent use of radiograms, and also of the air-mails to Lisbon wblch, however, are not as regular as formerly. "Upon the receipt of the petitions of Religious for faculties and dispens,ations, this Delegation will communicate with the .Holy See by radiogram or by other channdls, according to the possibilities and the circumstances. When a response has been received from the Holy See, the relative rescript will be issued by this Delegation, in accord-ance with instructions already given or to be given in particular cases. "When requests are made for the renewal of a faculty, the orig-inal rescript should be presented with the petition for renewal. "The Holy. See hopes in this way to continue to correspond with the Religious !n this country and to furnish every assistance to them." 1942, March 21. At the request of many members of the Hier-archy, heads Of universities, and authorities in the world of science, among them members of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences, His Holiness Pope Pius XII proclaimed Saint Albert the Great to be the heavenly patron of natural sciences. The Most Reverend Martin Gillet, Master General of the Order of Preachers, read the Brief at a solemn meeting held in the Pontifical International Institute Ahgeli- CUmo 1941, November 18. The Sacred Congregation of Rites held a preparatory session in the cause of the Servant of God, Catherine Tekakwitha, Indian virgin, to discuss the heroicity of the virtues practised by her. 210 .uesffons and Answers !1. According +o our constitutions. +he members of our congregation pronoun~:e temporary vows for three years, +hen take. perpetual vows unless, for a very serious reason, a sister is obl;gecl by superior~ to renew her temporary vows for another period of three years. At the end of +ha+ time she must either pronounce perpetual vows or seek~ an inchlt from the S. Congregation of Religious for a fur+her ex+en-sion of temporary vows if she is not 1o return to the world. Recently this latter c~se occurred, but the rescript was delayed, "and the sister d~d not renew her temporary vows until twelve days after they had' expired. In this case, did +he sister cease +o be a member of +he congregation on the day on which her vows expired, and were her subsequent vows invalid? The sister would not cease to be a member of the congregation. by the mere fact that an interval of time elapsed between the expira-tion of the temporary vows and their renewal, unless the superior had positively ordered her to leave and to return to the world. As the case is presented, it is not clear whether or not the constitutions allow this appeal to the S. Congregation of Religious.

Issue 47.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1988. ; Communal Spirituai ~Cons01ation The Blessing of ~OId Age . . .= =,.~ ;. ::. -. : ~ - = :"~ i~',~,~ . Love and !~Apostolate Volume 47 Number 6 Nov./Dec. 1988 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REWEW FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors Nov./Dec. 1988 Volume 47 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv.wv.w Fon RvaotGmus; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv.wv.w FOR REt.mtous; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints ar~ available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Consciousness Examen: Becoming God's Heart for the World George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenn~r, well known to almost all of our readers, returns to our pages,. His article was first published in the April-June 1988 special edition of Prayer and Service (Rome). He is the director of the Spiritual-formation program at North Ameri-can College; 00120 Vatican City State; Europe. To live contemplativeiy. Ind~ed', ~o become Whom we contempl.at~: this is the invi~gorating experience, the hallmark enterprise and adventure that human existence is all about that for which every human heart is long-ing. The magnetic appeal of~tl~e wholly beloved invites our hearts to a transformation which is never e~isy. But it is so intimately renewing as to be almost irresistible. It is the very heart 9f love. Lovers in their mu~- tual ~0ntemplation are not always explicitly aware of this process of self-transformation into which the~y ~are being swept up. But c,ertain claalleng'- ing momen, ts can starkly reveal the risky loss of self that is involved. And yet the very attractiveness of the beloved provides conviction and moti-vation t6 embrace this risk. in that magnetic moment, love seems an op-portunity not to be m'isse'd. B/at love's opportunity "and risk are also costly--and lovers finally know this. Indeed, the cost involved in the con-templation of lovers strikes to the profound level of self, id.entity. But cost what it may, the belove.d~s attractiveness lures the lover on to surpris-ingly new depths. The beloved in our reflection here is Christ Jesus, our God and Lord, our Brother and, finally, all our sisters and brothers, especially the most suffering ones across all time and space (see Mt 25:31-46). And contem-plative transformation into .this beloved is the fundamental process .in-volved in, indeed it is, devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus Christ. It 801 [102 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 is also the process with which examination of conscience is concerned. And there we have at once the premise and the product of this reflec-tion. Both devotion to the Sacred Heart and examination of conscience have a long history in the Ignatian tradition. But they have rarely, if ever, been viewed in relationship to each other. In this article I will try to show how regular examination of conscience facilitates a transforming expe-rience of one's own heart into the beloved of one's heart, the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus Christ. After a brief summary of the contempo-rary renewed understanding of the examen, I will make use especially of some of the graces prayed for in the First Week Of the Spiritual Exer-cises, in order to describe the continuing conversion involved in a regu-lar practice of examen. Finally, in support of the claim that the examen can convert our hearts into devotion to the Sacred Heart of God, I will describe a little of the apostolic power~ the ardent love and thirst for jus-tice, of such a growing and ongoing conversion. Ongoing: for we are never done with love. In recent years there have been attempts, both within the Jesuit heri-tage and within the whole Church, to renew the understanding and prac-tice of examination of conscience and of devotion to the Sacred Heart. Examination of conscienc~ is now more of(en called consciousness ex-amen or awareness examen. ~ In its renewed form the examen continues to bless and sensitize the hearts of many busy believers to the loving pres-ence of God in all of daily life. And while much work has been done in developing a contemporary theological understanding of devotion to the Sacred Heart,2 perhaps the a~tual practice of the devotion is not so widespread as that of consciousness examen, or at least is not widespread among those who frequently make use of consciousness examen. This article, finally, though its central point is to relate the two practices, is concerned more with the personal effects of regular examen than it is with the details of traditional or recent developments in devotion to the Sacred Heart. Renewed Understanding of Examen In the renewed understanding of the examen, two insights are key. First, a much more positive perspective has corrected a past view that often deteriorated into an overly negative, moralistic misunderstanding. Rather than highlighting the bad actions of a day, the examen gives pri-mary concern to what is primary: God's revelation, a steadfast love in Christ Jesus always inviting and invigorating our consciousness. Formal examen sensitizes our hearts to the presence of this love in the ordinary Becoming God's Heart / 803 details of every day. Whenever this love is recognized and responded to, our hearts simply must c9~me aliw~ with joy and gratitude. So gratitude is the major element in the actual time of examen-prayer, as it should also be in our daily lives of faith. And this gratefulness for the wonder of God's love stirs hearts to action. And so gratitude becomes the chief motive from which all ministry pours. As the examen begins to make our hearts more aware of God's .per-during Io.ve, we also begin to recognize flow often and how easily we can b~ oblivious to that love, or how subtly, yet quite stubbornly, we can refuse response to love. This realization, when faced honestly and not rationalized away, can, whether rudely or quietly, awaken our hearts with healthy guilt, with sorrow and repentance. As this article will de-velop later, this, experience of guilt and sorrow is anything but pleasant; yet, as an experience of God's love, it does purify us, it does transform us. And the effect of that can only be a bolder, freer, more wide-ranging apostolic service. Mature faith and discipleship cannot happen without this painful transformation in the humiliating experience of guilt and sorrow. As the repentant sinner encounters God's forgiveness in Je-sus, sorrow is transformed into hopeful, vigorous gratitude--and a burn-ing zeal to serve God's loving justice in our world. In this way, thanks-giving-- the central driving force in the heart of any mature disciple of Jesus Christ--dominates the dailyexamen and fuels its impulse toward loving action. A second insight that renews our understanding.of the examen is the importance of the informal examen, as distinguished from, though obvi-ously not unrelated to, the formal examen.3 The formal examen is a spe, cific time and style of prayer:. In a previous article I described the five traditional elements of such prayer.4 Never meant as an end in itself, this formal practice of examen should gradually .spill over and infiltrate it-self, as a special faith,sensitivity, into a person's daily ,life. And so we come upon the informal examen:a way of living. The informal examen is more a matter of who we.are and who we are becoming, whereas the formal examen is a specifid prayer we regularly practice. Thus a .regular practice of examen can lead to that self-transformation which make pos-sible a genuine faith-sensitivity of heart, a dynamic connaturality with the Beloved, which we are calling here informal examen. This dynamic development of formal examen into informal, into a pervasive faith-sensitivity of heart, is crucial--crucial both to a proper understanding of examen itself and to its role in the human heart's deeply desired experi-ence of love: our becoming whom we contemplate. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Daily Conversion in Faith Jesus' ministry erupts publicly among the peopl(-inoa great sense of urgency: a wholly new revelation of God's love and the need for reform of mind and heart, if One is to recognize and respond~to that love. It is so clear at the beginning of Mark and in the synagogue-scene of chapter four in Luke. This radical personal conversion of faith is often described in the Scriptures as a matter of repentance. As a conx~ersion that will cost a whole lifetime, 'it continually involves the risking and sacrificing of a temptingly attractive but false, illusory self while radically true and ra-diantly new creation is born in a person's daily response to the quiet ur-genc~ of God's love. But no experience of merely passing excitement will suffice for this. Nor ~can such repentance and radical change of outlook ever be re-duced simply~ tb our own planning and control. A strategy of clear-sighted tactics and of fierce determination will always prove futile all by itself. In fact, if not properly motivated and accompanied by grace, it can actually corrupt the very adventure of faith into something"unwhole-some and unholy. With0ut,a genuin(rexperience of the wonder of God's love, the Gospel call, the call by grace and favor to radical change, can-not be heard, and healthy repentance cannot happen.5 It is the attractive beauty and power of God's love which reveals the inadequacy and sin-fulness of our condition and unlooseris in our hearts a desire to be much more than what we now may be. It is in this way that the w~onder of God's love reveals our sinfulness. And this profound truth, so capable of being misunderstoOd, is always the bedrock of mature spiritual life. God alone sees our sinfulness most clearly for what it truly is: a choice against love. And it is this God who calls us to intimacy in the beautiful revelation of Jesus come among us as forgiveness. Every detail of Je-sus' life, most especially his dramatic experience on Calvary, stretches and stirs 6ur hearts in hope for a new creation, a new life, a whole new self. But repentance, with its'purifying pain and.suffering, is the only way to this urgently longed-for newness. ¯ ~An ,honest repentant.acknowledgment of sinfulness.in the face of such love is neither'obxiious nor easy, because it cuts Our consciousness in humiliation. 'The guilt and shame and the embarrassment that come in the wake of such~an acknowledgment sting and. singe our conscious-ness. In the presence of such love, they make our spirits blush. The pain and hurt will, most often ,~" and quite spontaneouslyl make us wary and seel~ to activate d~fense mechanisms such'~ as the rationalizations of de-nial and the distractions,~not of joy, but of pleasure. These are moments Becoming God's Heart / 805 for careful discernment in the life of any believer, For the humiliating pain of acknowledged sin, as intended here, is not the result of some overly scrupulous conscience. Nor is it the unhealthy guilt of self-hatred. Rather it is the purifying consolation--not desolation, but con-solation~ however scouring--the consoling experience of God calling us to greater love and life and faith. Despite the pain, therefore, this repen-tant blush of heart is a grace not to be rejected. It is essential to any ma-ture faith, to any measured zeal for God's world, to any discipleship that hopes.to brave the road's full distance. The guilt that introduces our embarrassed, repentant response to God'.s great, tender love requires a brief description here. Much past ex-p. eoence of unhealthy guilt has understandably provoked the over-reaction against, even to the l~oint of a dangerous disregar.d, of, ~all guilt as if all guilt were unhealthy. Though unhealthy guilt can surely plague and disi~eart~n.us, yet there is a guilt born of God. A'nd it ~;tings. But for the lover, it also signals the Beloved's presence, a very active pres-ence, a redemptive consciousness, inoviting great~er intimacy in faith with God. Urihealthy guilt is always anxious, wo~:rie~ aboiat self, in excessive fear of punishment, preoccupied with failure, at tim6s verging on despair in the face of some unrealistic pe~rfectionism. But healthy, consoling guilt is always the result of an interpersonal Iov,e .relationship. And it focuses the heart beyond the self, on the Beloved, in painful so~:row for the wound one's lack of love has caused. Healthy .guilt does not despair, nor does it disrupt the deepest peace of the soul. The reason for this is that healthy guilt is always intimately and very positively related to encoun-ter, a repentant sinner's encounter with God's forgiveness revealed and available now in a crucified Son's intransigent love. In the Dying, a New Life But in the tense struggle'of this inner guilt, shame, and sorrow, we usually become aware of the risk and high stakes involved. A self, or some aspect of a self with which we have been enamored, perhaps for a long time, must be let go of, Something must die if the new is to be born. It is a mortifying experience, but, as it is not a mortification sim-ply of our own making, neither can the outcome of it be clearly grasped in advance, It is a moment of perceived high risk. And the helplessness of such a moment, when we are on the verge of letting go of what used to be and are. not yet in possession of what will be, can profoundly daunt and agitate our spirit. Furthermore, it is in no way simply our own power and ingenuity that will create a different future. In the helpless and sor-rowful awareness of our sinfulness, it is only an 'act of trusting abandon- Review for Religious, November-December 1988 ment of self, sometimes done in the dark aloneness of faith, that will al-low the Beloved to gift us with God's holiness, our only true human fu-ture. A process of conversion that has begun in love leads now to even greater love as a beloved God, in that faithful promise which is the risen Jesus, defies all darkness and rejects absurdity and pain as the final word, whether about this world or the next. The heart of God revealed in"Jesus excites our hearts with the invi-tation to a new and brighter future. But only a heart scoured clean in the humiliation of repentance can respond to that invitatiofi. The issue is as profound as self-transformation and as hopeful as a wholly new c?eation. But without a mortified, response to God's loving invitation and without a risky letting go of self, such a future remains simply tantalizing, cheap grace, illusion. The forgiving love of God ~brings th~ process of repentance to a con-clusion o~ lively gratitude, profound joy, and enthusiastic zeal for min-istry. The sorrow of a forgiven sinner is not depressing, however pain-fully purifying. Neither is this sorrow obliterated by the joyous gratitude and zeal for servic~ that realized forgiveness brings. Rather, the humility of a saved sinner, while not destructively focused on the past, neve'r sim-ply forgets the sorrowful memory of forgiven sin. One cannot help but wonder whether Peter in the maturi~ty of his joy, during his after-breakfast walk with the risen Jesus, did not once again find his eyes well up with tears as three awkward questions burned his soul with his own lonely truth, but burned it precisely for the sake of fidelity, the journey in companionship, and, yes, for the great holiness of Peter that lay ahead (Jn 21:15-19). The new self created in God's fo¢giveness is always strongly char-acterized by a profound, joyful thanksgiving for a deed neither deserved nor capable of accomplishment on one's own. This deed of forgiveness and the hope of a new and better future resonate strongly in the repen-tarot sinner's heart, now riveted on the challenging beauty of God's for-giving love, found fleshed forever in Jesus on the cross. And so the whole dynamic of the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises propels a per-son to confrontation, to enlightenment and encouragement before this pas-sionate experience of Jesus on Calvary. Having taken upon himself the sins of all, this Son, anguished in an olive grove over the agonizing pros-pect of a humiliating death, is able to renew that trusting abandonment of self which allows himoto find once again, as always, not previous to, but in the very abandonment of dying, his dear Father. And his beloyed Father blesses this anguished abandonment with a future of absolute full- Becoming God's Heart ness in resurrection. In the face of such enlivening abandonment on Je-sus' part, we can find the graceful encouragement needed for that sur-render of self which repentance always demands. It is at this moment that the graces of fidelity and perseverance take root in the forgiven sinner's experience. And so Jesus' death into the fu-ture of resurrection stands faithfully, for all ages, as God's forgiveness. It gives graceful encouragement to all repentant sinners in this risky and humiliating process of self-transformation. The persevering faithfulness of this new creation, this new heart, will always depend on how pro-foundly, how pervasively transformed the repentant sinner is in the en-counter with God's Word of forgiveness. As we gaze on God's forgiveness in Jesus crucified, besides a lively gratitude and profound joy, our heart knows the expansiveness of a great desire for God in Jesus--an apostolic desire to give ourselves as Jesus did in the ministry of God's forgiving justice. This desire at the end of the First Week continues to expand as the attractiveness of God's love in Jesus is revealed through the remaining weeks of the Exercises. God's Spirit and kingdom revealed so compellingly in Jesus become our whole-hearted desire. To live in daily imitation of Jesus, to serve as an apostle in whatever way God desires, becomes the very energy of our hearts. And yet, as the experience continues, this desire can stretch our hearts still further: we may be so transformed, we may, in such transformation, be so intimately identified with Jesus, that we become and, in the thor-oughly real way the mysticism of baptism and Eucharist accomplish in us, we may be Jesus in and for our world. And so ttie joyous thanksgiv-ing of a forgiven sinner, so much more than .a mere devotional satisfac-tion, sets our hearts afire with such desire for new identity in Christ Je-sus that we become mystical activists, heralds everywhere of the good news of God's transforming forgiveness. This reflection offers the view that consciousness examen may play a role of special importance in facilitating such a process of radical con-version. The profundity and pervasiveness of the transformation spoken of will depend in large measure on a regular practice of examen. And rather than putting a clear conclusion to the process of radical conver-sion, the Exercises provide enlightening direction for the further and con-tinual deepening of desire for this daily identification with Jesus. For this reason, as the formal Exercises conclude and move to become daily life, we are always left with an even greater need than before for regular ex-amen, that we may continue the daily discernment of God's love con-verting us steadily into Christ Jesus our Lord. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Goal of Examen: Devotion to the Sacred Heart of God ,in Jesus Long after the retreat experience of the Exercises is finished, regu-lar examen keeps our heart sensitive and responsive to the attractiveness of the Sacred Heart of God: ifi Jesus.As we have already seen, thanks-giving and sorrow are the two chief affections in faith of the examen-- and the sorrow itself, as we~have also seen, finds its fulfillment in thanks-giving.~ And so it is in. and through its term of thanksgiving that regular cxamen mediates our conversion and growth into Christ Jesus. Through the basic thrust of the ex.amcn, each believer becomes a concrete embodi, merit here and now of the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus. Consciousness examen, therefore, by facilitating the transformation whereby.a serious believer and disciple becomes devoted to the Sacred Heart,is profoundly related tothat same,,devotion.For in this sens~e of the word, devotion re-fers to the fundamental shape and orientation of a believing heart to the Heart of God in Christ Jesus. And this sense of devotion cuts far be-neath-- it does not necessarily deny but rather must root--any specific, traditional devotional details and practices. .~o ¯ The transformation of self whereby our hearts radically become de-votion to the Sacred Heart accomplishes some perceptible results in our lives. Growing integrity of heart, wholeheartedness, Ignatian magnanim-ity gradually centers, unites, and identifies our whole person and pres-ence in the world. A white inner stillness, fanned to burning flame in God's own creative love, radiates an. energy bf, recollection~a collect= edness--that can meld our often fragmentary faith into the Strong, live organism of a life decisively for God. Such wholeheartedness first gives enlightenment, then courage, to-wards a fundamental desire and choice in the direction of the "heav-enly" things of consolation and away from the "earthly" things of deso-lation. These desolate "earthly" things live in our flesh as the seven capi-tal, selfish impulses toward sin that the Christian tradition ~has known so well for centuries; whereas the "heavenly" things of God's consoling love are the opposite impulses which also live in our consciousness where the Spirit of Jesus invites and breathes their confirmation, their development in us, as virtues, as the very shape of our .heart. In the in-terweaving complexity and tangle of our daily consciousness, we dis-cover that the tempting experience of these capital impulses to sin is pre-cisely the battlefield upon which the fidelity of our commitment and de-votion to the virtuous heart of God. in Christ is tested and strengthened. And so it is usually by standing strong against the tempting intensity of lust that the virtue of chastity grows. It is by decisively acknowledging Becoming God's Heart .and carefully standing against the violence of desolate rage that the ten-sile strength of nonviolent gentleness is forged. And so of all the per, sonal and community motions of spirit that impel us towards or away from the justice of the Reign of God. The examen is.daily involvement in this process of transforming the impulsive desolations of our conscious-ness into the deep, consoling devotion and virtue of God's Sacred Heart. Once again, as described earlier in this article, we notice that it is pre-cisely in the dying that the new is born.And what is newly born through these mortifying struggles on the inner battlefield of our heart--the heart of each of us and the communal, societal heart of each group, each so-cial structure--always affects apostolic presence in the world, always af-fects decisively actions for or against God's justice as revealed in the lov-ing Heart of Jesus. Fifially, this conversion into the Sacred Heart of God in Jesus, this process of our becoming devotion to the Sacred Heart, does not displace offr weakness ~vith an arrogant sense of ~Sur own stren~gth. No~, just the o'ppo~site! Maturity in faith is always growth t0 grateful realization both of our weakness and of our dependence on God's love for everything. A steadfast belief in God's love does not r.eplace human weakness. Rather, it helps us patiently to wait upon the Lord and recognize arid cele-brate God's love bringing strength into our weakness. For God's power is at its best in our weakness (se.e 2 Co 12:7-10). It is a power that is needed, for becoming whom we contemplate takes courage, even as it brings energy for it. It is high adventure, with a promised wage of per-secution, to enter and be taken up into the affectivity of Jesus, God's coun-tercultural heart for the world. Consciousness examen, then, is not a way to greater, self-reliant strength. But as its daily practice transforms us into the Sacred Heart, we may become whom we contemplate and so stand in this world as liv-ing witnesses, agents of love, inviting others into God's Heart in Christ Jesus: "Come to me, all you who are weary and over-burdened, and I will give you rest! Put on my yoke and learn from me. For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light"(Mt 11:28-30). And one more time we listen to the Beloved, becoming whom we contemplate: "This text is being fulfilled, today, even as you listen . . . 'The spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim the Lord's year of favor' " (Lk 4:16-21). I~10 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Through a companionship with Jesus made intimate and tender, strong and apostolically peremptory, through days and years of fidelity to the examen of consciousness, and through the dynamic energy con-tinually released in the experience of forgiven sinfulness, we may come to the apostolic gift which the fidelity of the friends of God can know. In becoming whom we contemplate, we may devoutly, reverently, boldly, and with his thirst for justice become, each of us and together, in the Holy Spirit, God's own heart for the world. NOTES t George Aschenbrenner, S.J., "Consciousness Examen," R~.v~Ew ~oR REt.IG~ot~s 3 I (1972): 14-21. See also the lengthy, very helpful article of David Keith Townsend, S.J., "The Examen Re-Examined," CIS 18, 2 (1987): 11-64. 2 Annice Callahan, R.S.C.J., Karl Rahner's Spirituality of the Pierced Heart: A Re-interpretation of Devotion to the ~a~'red Heart (New York: University Press of Amer-ica, 1985). This book contains references to the essential texts of Rahner on this sub-ject. 3 George Aschenbrenner, S.J., "A Check on Our Availability: The Examen," Rw~w ~oR RE~.~o~ot~s 39 (1980): 321-324. '~ Art. cit., R~vl~.w ~oR R~.~G~ot~s 31 (1972): 14-21. 5 See my article "Forgiveness," Sisters Today 45 (1973): 185-192. Clustering Thomas More Page, C.F.X. Brother Thomas More has written for us before, most recently in our issue of March/ April 1986: "Centering Prayer: A Flight to Reality." He lives at Mission Santa Bar-bara; 2201 Laguna Street; Santa Barbara, California 93105. Three years ago our provincial asked if the members of the province would be willing to commit themselves to form prayer cluster gr.oups dur-ing th~ course of the coming.year. The clusters would be small, six to eight people, voluntary, and would pledge themselves to meet at least twice a year over a long weekend. The timing of the formation of these clusters was just right, for by this time in our history a spirit of trust had ,been developed among the brothers, largely as the result of several provincial gatherings which were organized along different lines from provincial chapters. Provincial chap-ters consisted of a number of elected delegates who deliberated in a for-mal and businesslike manner over a prepared agenda, generally using par-liamentary procedures or "processes" for handling this agenda. The "gatherings," on the other hand, were open to all members and were constructed around themes which were meant to evoke a personal and communal faith-response within the ambience of prayer, personal and communal, with emphasis on our commonality as brothers. Within this framework we related our struggles and successes, recalled our sinful and graceful history, and spent blocks of time in prayerful reflection. Along with appropriate communal prayers composed around the theme of the gatherings, there were carefully prepared liturgies. Some unexpected results came from these new ways of meeting. There was a power released in many that had a healing effect. The prov-ince had experienced a deep division that had a traumatic effect upon the 811 812 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 members, leaving many wounds and a feeling of alienation, along with an unsettling disorientation. Then, also, there was a disturbing loss of identity. But here at these gatherings we were learning to speak a new language--that of faith speaking from lived experience. We spoke from the deepest levels of our lives. We spoke also of who we were. And we listened. In speaking and listening and praying we built up a new rela-tionship with one another andbegan the process of healing and more im-portantly, of refounding and celebrating our identity as brothers. With this healing and rediscovery, the level of trust rose proportionately. Also, an energizing power once more flowed through the province. Having thus rediscovered our identity within the healing and fraternal gatherings, we were ready for the proposal to take the next step of form.ing prayer clusters. The method used to form.the first experimental clusters, three in all, was simple, yet somewhat complicated. We were asked to jot down the names of those brothers with whom we would feel comfortable in such an intimate setting, along with the names of those with whom we would not feel comfortable. The provincial turned the names over to a brother-sociologist, who, after a long Struggle with the assignment, canoe up with three group'ings, ~,hich, ~after some further adjustments, were refined'. The members of the three groups were then asked to begin the process: Some brothers bypassed this process and began on their own. The group I was in has met three°times over the last year and a half. One person had volunteered to prepare th6 agenda for the first session; another, to find a suitable place where the f~icilities were such that they guaranteed the kind of atmosphere needed for this type of meeting. We had agreed that finances should not be an obstacle towards attendance and that, if anyone needed assistance, the group would come to his aid. To dat~, we have met in such diverse places as Loretto, Kentucky; St. Louis, Missouri; and Santa Barbara Mission, California. Our three ma-jor themes were: (.1) Make a review of your life. Isolate one'incident where you had to make a radical decision. How did you resolve it? (2) What has been your experience of God? How has your prayer life devel-oped over the years? (3) What significant things have happened to yot] since our last meeting? Relate an incident of injustice you have experi-enced. How did you handle it? Rather than further describing the mechanics of the prayer-cluster ex-perience, I prefer now to become more personal and isolate three major movements I saw take place. The most singular and overarching move-ment that tied the sessions together was what I would call spiritual inti- Clustering macy, which John Dunne describes as "the heart's desire." 'I had not expected that this would happen, and so it came as a surprise a grace. I was led into the most secret chambers of my brothers' minds and hearts--places that had hitherto been in darkness and inaccessible to oth-ers. To be drawn into a brother's faith experience; to walk with him as he tells me, in language uncluttered by grammatical rubrics, about his personal history--to be drawn into such an intimate circle was to become a witness to how his journey shaped, and molded him. It was to become a companion, a friend, a brother, who has been made aware and has made him aware of the sacredness of his history. He would no longer be alone to those to whom he had opened a clearing where the heart spoke without caution or~embarrassment. Released from the fenced area of private prayer and buried thoughts, each brother opened up the land, scape of his soul, where what was once unspoken, silent, became sto-ries that were, in the words of John Shea, "witnesses to grace, ~tutter-ing accounts, at times,,of,the God whose ways are unknown to us." And after each account, there was a zone of silence more reverent and expec-tant than the hushed, silence that follows upon the last plucked strings of Segovia's guitar. And thus it was that each brother, within the intimate circle of fra-ternal shari.ng, was able to speak without fear,about those things in his life he believed in, knowing that he could do this becau_se he had the sup~ port and trust of his listeners. This spiritual intimacy led to the second movement: a new sense of ideiatity. Each brother spoke in,what Robert Bella calls the "language of the heart," where one is caught up in the restless, flux of thought un-tethered by grammatical ,rubrics. When one heart speaks and another lis-tens, each is .drawn closer together in the bonds of fellowship. The ex-perience of spiritual intimacy made each ,brother feel he was participating in a fellowship in which his identity as a person and a brother was re-captured, maybe even rediscovered. When we were drawn into the feeling level of the brothers as they told their story, there was a shift that brought all the hearers into one com-mon community with common roots. What was experienced was the joy of belonging, with the discovery that "joy is deeper than agony" (Nietzsche). This kind of interchange is what J. A. Appleyard, S.J., would call "agonistic" in the "best sense of the word: it struggles to articulate primary experience, and in doing so it creates an intersUbjec-tive reality, sets relationships of cordialit~y and professionalism on a new basis of experienced faith." Through this deep experience of sharing 1~14 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 their faith, the. brothers broke through the polite slogans by which they once related and placed their newly found relationship on a personal level where their faith journeys converged towards the two poles necessary for a humanly growth-producing state: a deep relationship with God and a deep feeling of brotherhood. This senSe of personal and communal identity, this joy of belong-ing, is not something entirely emotional. It is something more than that. Its merit is that it drew the group into the beguiling and dreaming air of what brotherhood can become, where brother relates to brother. As Bishop Tutu once wrote, "You blossom among those who keep affirm-ing." The third movement was the awareness on the part of the brothers that this experience of spiritual intimacy and the rediscovery of their iden-tity' as brothers was not done within a vacuum, but was fashioned from the agenda of the world from which they temporarily withdrew. If one listened closely to their stories, one became acutely conscious that the brothers came to the cluster to gain strength and support to become even more prayerful men of faith who want to'develop a spirituality for jus-tice and equality which is nonviolent, hopeful, courageous, and collabo-rative. They came from their deep involvement in such ministries as: chemical dependency; professional involvement in heavy ethical and medi-cal questions; inner-city and upper-level-income schools; directors of re-newal programs for clergy and religious; organizers of immigrants from Central America. Against this varied background, they spoke of their call and their efforts toward a radical commitment to be voices for the voice-less, prophets in today's Church and world. They spoke of how they might effectively be involved in the women's movement and how they could be brother to them in their struggles; of the issues and the injus-tices which cry out for their voice; of how they might clarify and articu-late a response to the needs of the Church and of society; of how they can speak out and act individually and collectively regarding specific in-justices they see within the Church; of.how they might be able to speak out about the clericalism within the Church and religious orders; of how they can instill in students values opposed to a consumer society and a vision of the universality of the human family. Clustering, then, has been for the brothers a powerful force for sustaining them.in their involvement in the issues paramount in our society and Church. Without this aware-ness, they realize, the clusters could become a cozy and self-~fulfilling affair, hardly any different from social gatherings or an evening of ca-maraderie. ., ~, Clustering What has been the effect of these clusters on the membership? The question is best answered by the provincial who initiated the effort. In a very recent letter, he wrote as follows: "It is clearly evident that the Lord has been blessing us in a particular way over these last years. Our numbers may be decreasing and most of us may be aging; still we are at a depth of commitment and a level of true fraternal sharing that I per-sonally had never experienced before in my years as a Xaverian. I have lived over forty years of very happy times--of real mutual fraternal as-sistance and good-natured camaraderie. However, it is, I believe, only in these later years that we have begun to share what is deepest in our lives, in our thoughts and feelings. It is only recently that we have be-gun to share what happens to us in our prayers, to open ourselves to each other at the depths of our intimate private prayer. The mutual understand-ing, encouragement, and joy that this. sharing has produced in us is evi-dent every time we gather together: it is vibrant, palpable, and promotes further joy. It is true spiritual happiness, a real spiritual consolation." The Sanctuary Lamp Amid the silence of the night the waxen sentinels do not their vigil keep but one lone beacon stirs the midnight air. The flame, so silent her voice yet so dauntless the strength gathered in the surgings of light defying darkness. How hidden the strain of solitude's demands to give with gentle grace life's unseen gift of gold while others bask in daylight's sweet caress. Barbara Ann Opfer 2027 Campbell, B-8 Sandusky, Ohio 44870 TheMirror in the Field Joseph A. Tetlow, S.J. . , Father Tetlow has worked in the religious formation of junior religious and of theol-ogy students. He is currently spiritual director to the cle~rgy of th, e Diocese of Aus-tin, facilitator of the spirituality program in the Central Texas Pastoral Centel, and tertian director of~the New Orleans Province of the Soc'iety 6f Jesus. He liveg at Xavier Hall; 907 Lydia Street; Austin, Texas 78702. Fvery literate American can rattle off the list of major flaws in the Ameri-can psyche: workaholism, negative self-image, inability to make com-mitments, perfectionism, and so on. We absorb the list from psycho-babble, but we do not accept that these flaw~':are mere personality quirks, "just the way we are." On the contrary, we have the vague but persis-tent sense that not being able not to work, or living continually down on self, or failing in seriously made commitments, and so on, represents some kind of moral or religious wrong. W6' do not, however, know the name of the wrong. I make an attempt here to name that wrong and to diagnose the spiri-tual sickness lurking under workaholism and the rest. Why do business-men who really trust God nonetheless work themselves into coronary care? Why do mature Christians feel that'their prayer is trivial because they do not focus on divine things the way a computer focuses on its data? How can a woman go through a long preparation, soberly take mar-riage vows, and walk away from her Spouse two years later? What would make holy old religious consider themselves worthless? I will contend, first, that a single, serious spiritual failing commonly underlies these spiritual sicknesses. The failing is that we do not believe in and attend to the passionate love of God continually creating each hu-man self. Very likely, many have not even made an adult commitment to a principal foundational truth of revelation: God continues at every mo- 816 The Mirror in the Field ment the Creator even of the free human self. I will argue, secondly, that we have honorable reasons for finding it hard to keep this truth in mind. I will list five. However, thirdly, even if our reasons are honorable, we suffer a good deal because of this unmindfulness. Specifically, we suffer a syn-drome of problems that constantly show 'up in spiritual direction and re-treats, beginning with the perfectionism, negative self-imaging, and workaholism already mentioned and including others. I will list another five that I have observed. These problems, I will insist, have specifically psychological moments, but when we escape our psychological suffer-ing from, say, negative self-imaging, we then face a specifically spiri-tual issue of appropriate self-love. It is the root spiritual problem I am interested in here. To analyze it, fourthly, I. will return to and expand on my first point. For I find the root of this whole range of problems in our refusal to accept God's crea-tive loving not in the abstract (we all give notional assent to God the Crea-tor every Sunday), but in the concrete. I mean that we reject God's cre-ating when we choose to dislike, hate, or repudiate the concrete gifts that I am given and .the whole gift that I am. This radical refusal strains or even breaks an appropriate relationship with the self and with God. Finally, I will suggest that in some measure the cure for all of these problems lies in a wholehearted, living yes to the concrete realities in my history, in my life, and in the self that emerges within them. Forgetting the Constantly Creating God. As children we answered the question "Who made me?" with the belief ~'God made me." Now adults, we need to know that the question cannot read who made, but who is making me. l~or we know that it is not the case that G~)d made me in an historical event done with and over. It is the case that God, who is at every moment Maker, keeps on making me. In the fullest sense, my Maker keeps~3n shaping me as a human per-son and as a self. As a child I imagihed that God creates the w,ay rain fills a. vessel" It rains. The rain fills the vessel. The rain stops. The vessel remains filled. So God made me and now I am. This is an infantile conviction we need to grow out of. If I choose adult belief, I must imagine that God creates the way the sun illumines a mirror standing in a field. The sun's light fills the mirror and the mirror shines back. Did the sun stop. shin-ing, the mirror would go blank; as long as the sun shines, the mirror it-self radiates, light. So, as long as God's creating love burns in me, I am coming to be: Did he stop loving me right now--per impossibile, we like Review for Religious, November-December 1988 to think--I would stop right now coming to be. I would go blank. Why go back over these simple truths? Most feel that, put this baldly, they are too obvious to need saying. Indeed they are obvious, so obvious that we let them fade from functional beliefs to mere formali-ties in our faith-life. For God is so faithful and steadfast that we simply and unreflectively take for granted, not only his love, but even more his creating. Indeed, when men and women turn to God today (as at the be-ginning of a retreat, or in the middle of a life crisis), we gladly accept our divine parent cherishing us and we find deep consolation.and mean-ing in the Lord of all things loving us personally. We are by no means so quick to know our God as our constantly acting, all-powerful creator. I do not mean that the indifferent and sinful among us forget God creating. My experience in spiritual direction and retreat-giving leads me to contend that even people who pray regularly live unmindful of God's actiTe creating. Many who make the thirty-day lgnatian Exercises learn at the beginning to bask in God's steadfast love for them, but never ac-quiesce in the principal foundational truth: that what God wants must pene-trate my whole life and my whole self simply because God the Origin keeps on as the First Maker even of the human self as I keep emerging. We have learned in recent decades to take comfort in the thought that I am not yet complete, not yet finished; but we limit the meaning of that to not being finished making my own self, not mindful of the Other who has not yet finished, either. Perhaps we are not mindful of God's making because we get con-founded by trying to figure out how God's freedom and my personal free-dom fit together. We do indeed face some tremendous Speculative diffi-culties in fitting together human and divine freedom, and some people may suffer spiritual problems because of their speculations. But I have only very rarely met the person who labors under a kind of Luciferian aloneness before God, strapped into spiritual inertia by metaphysical co-nundrums. Most commonly, people live unmindful of God creating for deeply personal and experiential reasons, rooted in our current perception of our self and in our appreciation (or lack of it) of our concrete, per-sonal gifts. Honorable Reasons We are not to believe, however, that we fail to live mindful of the passionately making God from dishonest anger or sinful defiance~ On the contrary, I believe that we fail for several honorable reasons. The first, I think, comes from the way we now perceive the self. John Donne has argued that in the twentieth century we think of the self The Mirror in the Field as a reality that each of us brings forth. I am producing, I am making, myself. Our conviction sh6ws up in the way we talk: I have to do my own thing. I gotta be me. I have to be true to myself. I want to be authen-tic. In earlier ages people perceived the self differently. For instance, when Mary said, "My soul magnifies the Lord," she was perceiving her "self" as the sum total of her human experience. When she said, "The Lord has done great things in me," she was not talking about her little life right then. She was talking about the entire range of her little life history, all of the beginning, middle, and end. When Jesus asked, "What would a man gain if he got the whole world and lost his self?" he was not making an obscure point about some mysterious essence; he was making an obvious point about the man's entire life, his whole his-tory, his full being. Everyone can understand the point that nothing could reward a man for trashing that. We do not think that way. When we talk about our self, we .are talk-ing about something much more circumscribed, and still in process. We feel engaged in that process in every one of our initiatives and responses. We sense that we are bringing forth who I am moment by moment out of our experience, out of our history. So where does God fit in? We find it much easier to think of God as the Maker of things that are finished, and the Maker of things of which I am not the maker. We find it diffi-cult to keep in touch with the God who keeps engaged in making my whole self. The second reason why we find it: hard to keep mindful of this pas-sionately creating Love in us comes out of our relatively new knowledge of depth psychology. We can easily believe, as any child might, that God once created a self whole and intact, on whom others subsequently wreaked havoc. But we find it hard to believe two things: that God could create a self hag-ridden by an unconscious full of horrors and an id ooz-ing unresolved conflicts. And then, that God could actively continue cre-ating a self that learns lusts, neuroses, compulsions, phobias, and addic-tions before it is intelligently free or while it must choose under ruinous constraints. Does God make the self that craves alcohol which destroys that self? In what way can God be responsible for a self compelled to break out in shingles instead of breaking out of an insufferable situation? How is any god involved in creating that self? How could God be creat-ing a lesbian whose unchosen, vehement sexual desires clash shatteringly with her own cherished conscience? Both speculatively and experien-tially, we have trouble finding God's creating love inside the post- 820 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Freudian human personality. Thirdly, I think that we find it hard t~ believe that God actively shapes the self because we are so aware of sin structured into our world and of our own introjection of those structured sins. Unavoidably in my society, I feel certain racial prejudices. I came to understand only as an adult how much I am driven b~ sexism. Again with my society, I am com-ing to comprehend the blindnesses of ageism. Ev.ery day, we Americans feel the weight of the world's wealth, which so inequitably divides hu-mankind. Thus, in vague but poignant ways, we feel responsible for struc-tured sin and guilty for our part in it; and yet we feel quite helpless to change things. Why would a good God be creating oa feckless, con-founded self like mine? Fourthly, we face this business of a negative self-image. I find this ugly self-disvaluing hard to define or describe, but great numbers of pop-psychology books suggest that it is very strong. In books like Theodore Isaac Rubin's Compassion and Self-Hate and M. Scott Peck's People of the Lie, psychiatrists contend that distrust and despising of the self poi-sons the American psyche the way radioactive wastes poison: AmeriCan watertables. And noting the tide of seminars on assertiveness and self-improvement and all the Esalen Institutes around, we are forced to con-clude that something is going on in the self-evaluation of postmodern hu-mankind, and it is not positive. We are all members of David Riesman's "lonely crowd." Just recently we celebrated an anniversary and listened again to "Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band." We resonated again to the Beatles' famous line: "All the lonely people, where do they all come from?" Indeed; where do they come from? We find it hard to keep mindful that all these listless folk are the current achievement of a pas-sionately loving God. Fifthly and finally, our difficulties are intensified hourly by the ad-vertisers and taste-makers. They persuade us of the self that we "ought" to,be. During the 1930s, practitioners came to believe that advertising could go far beyond merely extolling the virtues of a product. They de-cided that real advertising should make people feel that we truly need what is being advertised, that we cannot hope to live as fulfilled persons unless we are supported by that product. Ever since, that is how adver-tising works~---and it really does work--teaching us to feel out of it, apart~ not fulfilled, without an infinite number of products and services. Since we are effectively made to feel the need of something new just about every week~ we ~.ever can come to feel that we really belong, are included, are coming to fulfillment. So where is the passionately loving The Mirror in the Field God who is said to be at the core of my--empty-feeling, craving-to-be-filled-- self? There are the five honorable reasons why we find it difficult to stay mindful of God creating us right now and to live attuned to the passion, ate love of God burning in our hearts. Of course, even~if theseoreasons are honorable, they do not make it impossible for us to be responsible for our relationships to our self and to our God. The Sin of Our Age And even if they are honorable reasons, we suffer on account of them. We might have good reason for runn~ing' a car off the road, and still fracture our skull. For these five fractured insight~ into the self give us a badly distorted vision of it and make it easy for us to suffer an inap-propriate self-lov6. That inappropriate self-love, I believe, is the root sin of our age and it produces the whole syndrome of spiritual problems that I will come to i'n the next set of paragraphs. We stand under the commandment "Love your neighbor as your-self." We are thereby under a spiritual obligatioh of ultimate conse-quence,~ since the Last Judgmerit will be made in terms of how well w~ have loved our neighbor. And yet we pay almost no attention to that as yourself and we do not know how to love ourselves well. We give our-selves to many fake wa'ys: self-indulgence in drugs and'sensuous living, the narcissisms of body-building and dieting and fashion, the willful search for the perfect mate, and so ow. But Christlike self-love, or wise and fully human self-love? We hardly ~omprehend what it is: : And yet the spiritual success of appropriate self-love has been de-scribed for us iri wh'ole shelves of books. Their distilled wisdom can be put this way: Appropriate self-love begins in approving and growing to like the divine good in myself--the gifts that I have and the gift that0I am. I approve of my gifts in the concrete, not in the abstract, so that I enjoy (as possible instances) my yen to bevice-president or my daily three-mile run or my .hit-and-miss spelling, and I like the self underly-ing all ttiat. I approve of my gifts in ~the actual contexts of my living, both time and place. In particular; I approve the concrete qualities about myself and realities in my life over which I never did have ~ say, which began and perhaps remain outside my personal, free control. So I might have to approve of having Hispanic parents or growing up in Chicago or being male. Every one of us begins appropriate self-love .with this yes. Martin Luther King did not choose to have a minister for a father, or to grow up in the tradition of American black preaching. Geraldine Ferraro did ~122 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 not choose to be born a woman with a swift, articulate intelligence at a time when such a woman could be invited to enter public life. John F. Kennedy did not choose to be born Irish-American Catholic, of ambi-tious and effective parents. Each of these three faced a series of radical choices that added up to saying yes to their concrete gifts, Had King re-pudiated his tradition of preaching, he could have accomplished little. Had Ferraro feared her intelligence, she could not have made history. Had Kennedy ignored his parents, he might well have spent his life in a dinghy off Hyannis Port collecting sunburn. Certainly, he could not have been elected the first Catholic president. God creates and keeps creating each of us in this and that concre-teness, passionately loving us into this human limitation and that particu-lar share of his infinite self. Whai tasks fall to me, then? First of all, the task of loving myself. But if I love myself, then I love a concrete self, a self that God now creates and now loves into being as I am. Plainly, I cannot love what about me is unlovable--my sins and ugly failings. But neither can I allow my sins and failings to make me hate or even dis-like the self that commits them. (Parenthetically, within this discussion the distinction between love and like cannot separate what.is one thing, and covers a rotten lie.) For if I have learned anything at all from the Word of God, I have learned that God has chosen beforehand to love me, a sin-filled self. If I choose to despise and repudiate what God loves, do I not try to make myself better than God? To look at my own case, then, I had to approve of, appreciate, and grow to like an American born as the Great Depression began, of par-ents utterly impoverished by that cataclysm. I had to come to say yes to much else: male and first child; father a champion athlete and mother lu-minously religious; Southern boy and raised in New Orleans with its Mardi Gras mentality; Catholic and nephew of a Jesuit metaphysician. I had learned to hate "Japs" and to admire soldiers when only a child, and also to consider blacks lazy and Protestants strange. I grew in sex-ual orientation, too, before choosing, and in a hankering for books, in a home where mother and father remained lifelong lovers and all the adults were readers. Of course, I have made many choices that modify all that. But none of those choices was wise that did not begin where each of us must be-gin. First to say yes, I am a gift, and then to say yes in the concrete to each of the gifts that I am. Am I tall? Thank God I am tall. Am I short? That is my gift. If I am angry at standing short--at whom am I angry? Who keeps making me short? If I cannot believe that God wants me The Mirror in the Field / 823 short, then I have made my faith fall short, and I will have to believe in a mythical The Force or in Carl Sagan's demiurge, Chance. Again, am I very, very bright? Would I rather not be very, very bright, °and do I talk and act like a dolt to veil my brightness? Whom am I insulting then, but the One who keeps making me very, very bright? Tile most ba_sic truth emerges: In the most radical ways, I am not my own maker. I.~never was and am not now. We all know Isaiah 45:9: "Does the clay say to its fashioner, 'What are you making?' " But we tend to forget, deny, or repudiate the truth that we are still on the wheel and the Potter's hands are still shaping us. "Does the pot say to the pot-ter, 'You have no skill?' " Well, each of us, insofar as we do not say yes to the gifts that we have and are, are telling our Potter that he does not know what he is doing. We enact this repudiation in a number of ways, but we suffer one spiritual illness from the repudiation itself, no matter how we act it out. When any of us rejects God's passionate love, we diminish joy in our lives. Thomas Aquinas felt that anyone who rancorously repudiated God's concrete gifts in the self would lose all spiritual joy. For we do not make our joy; we find it. Joy is like the brilliance of the sun. I al-ways think of it as whet happens to a mirror when it faces towards the sun. SUddenly the sun's light fills the mirror and in instant consequences the mirror radiates abrilliance all around. In the same way, God's pas-sionate loving continually flows in us or we would not be, and the first consequence of saying yes to God's concrete gifting is radiant joy. How the Refusal Branches Out In this atmosphere of diminished joy, the radical failure or refusal to approve of my concrete gifts as comihg from God commonly gives rise to several gpiritual problems. How do I live if I do not feel that I have all that I need or really want? Or take a worse case: Suppose that I live afraid that I do not have the gifts I need, that I am spiritually in-adequate and just not "good enough." Or worst of all: Suppose that I am angry at life and~at God over concrete realities in my life. How would I show that? How would I live that out? I would suggest the following ways. Each way increases in intensity as a person goes from lack of trust in, to.fear of, and finally to disgust with his or her concrete gifts and self. First: laziness. Any of several causes may underlie a given person's laziness. But if people do not feel themselves worth much, or worthy of anything special, they might well act that out by doing little or nothing. Thus, if a high school girl acts lazy in algebra class, she almost certainly 824 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 believes that, being a girl, she could learn little"about it. And the sin-cere and hard-working parish priest who never gets to the prayer he truly would like to make almost surely feels unequal to the'requirements of prayer or unfit to profit from it. Lazy people accomplish nothing because they try nothing; and they try nothing because they. live' with the sense of having no adequate or relevant resources within themselves. Not~ here that some might appreciate tli~eir own personal gifts but think little of the good things of the earth or"Of human artifice. Some, for instffnce, do not see gifts in food and housing. They have all they need and want, but they take it'all for graiited, implicitly, declaring it slight and unimportant. Conseque'ntly, they simply do not feel the hu-man weight of the hunger and homelessness all around them. They are simply lazy in these matters of justice, and that laziness roots deeply in their despising the good things of the e~arth. Second: ineffectualness. If la~zy people attempt nb~t~ing, ineffectual people attempt things but accomplish nothing. They do n6t trust their own gifts enough to create, to produce, to bring forth. I kne~, an artist onEe, a~ European. 'ffho brought all kinds of material into his studio but put nothing out of it. He fooled around wit~ a~t I~ut 'made. little or ~oth-iflg. As it turned out, I~E lived ineffectuhl because he feared that his gifts as an artist had unbreakable ties'to his sexual orientation. He feared that being a successful artist would n.e~essarily'elicit~plJblicly his hcimosexu-ality, which he fehred and hated. More accurately, he hated himself for having homosexual feelings. After he came to live easy and chastely within his sexual orientation, he began producing the art work o~f which he had all alpng been ~capable. And most of us know devout Christians who get on.e spiritual book after another from thei~ Spiritual Book Club and never~ get beyond a. few pages in any of them. Many people ~dopt this way.0f living out their inadequate se!~f-lov~ or their self-loathing ineffectualness who~cannot be on time, or get an article,finished, or per-forum their jobs the way their talents and .intelligence pl~ainly allow. ,Third: negative self-image. So many suffer this~that it;can reason-ably be called the most common, psychological suffering in our culture. Sometimes it see~s as though the whole population were seeking help tow~ard self-affirmation in institutes, workshops, and popular paperback books with titles like Be Your Own Best Friend. Psychologists are be-ginning to see the roots of most addic.tions and compulsions in self-hatred. ~ Note carefully, however, that this psychological problem can and probably does mask a spiritual problem. Once I have outgrown my in- The Mirror in the Field fantile self-distrust or my adolescent self-loathing, and have come to an adult self-possession and self-approval, I am then free in facing ,relig-ious and spiritu~il reality. Can I--who have found it so easy to feel down on myself--give active approval to my whole history, to the life I now lead, and to myself as God has been and continues to shape me? Thus the problem of a negative self-image transmutes from a psychological problem to a spiritual problem. What do I personally believe about God's creating me? DQ.I feel hope about myself and abgut humankind even in the rush~and torrent of our limitations ands failures? Do I .like the person. God is making me? Can I rejoice in the personalities who burrow into my.eg .o:--or do I insist on more "impr~essivei' friends? Can I approve of and rejoice in those persons whom God has given me to live with and work with? and in "the vast throng of. people" on earth? Probably all of us know some psychologically balanced people who deliberately choose to dislike¢ reject, or despise their history, life, and self. I know'one woman who periodically feels the need to denounce in Savage terms the dedicated women who taught her in grade school. We all know ~men who consider their (quite ordinary and honorable) jobs a degradation. Some see flaws, in the self and vaguely dislike the whole self as a consequen6e--flaws as trivial as fat'hips or shyness or a quick lip. A woman blurted out recently, "I hate myself when I do that." The "that" was a genuinely trivial failing, but she spoke a weighty truth: She does indeed hate herself, and regularly takes the occasion of trivial failing to reassert her hatred. Some even see strengths in the self and hate the strengths and, in them, ,the self. I remember one man feeling,bad about himself becausehe, could "only run three miles a day," and he had passed fifty. The. truth.is that a "negative~seif-image" is one dis, guise that we borrow from our culture in Order to mask our distrust or disapproval of how and what.God is.~.creating us. It is a commonplace'.among us that most of. us find it hard to acknowl-edge our virtues and our strengths. We ,also find it easy to get depressed by our failings. I often.suggest for a period of prayer at the beginning of a retreat the exercise of going over'personal gifts of every .kind, pre-cisely to say yes to God creating me. I find the vast majority of re-treatants unable to stay with this exercise. Why is this? Are these lapses of appropriate self-love mere, ly "psychological" in the sense,that they function less than consciously in the personality? I believe that they are more than that. I believe that they grow from an ongoing option or deci-sion: "I am not much. I am not very good. ! am a nothing." This fun-damental option fractures or even ruptures a person's relationship with Review for Religious, November-December 1988 the self and with the Maker.of the self. It is an offense against, the love of God concretely burning in myself. The option can actually become a repudiation of that creating love. I am afraid it did in'the life of a ex-seminarian who had tried all the drugs and all the sex, and who con-cluded several hours of sharing with the despairing remark, "God made me a piece of junk." Fourth: bitterness and rancor. Some prideful and arrogant people lash out bitterly and destructively when they cannot impose their will on events. But others who live bitter and rancorous lives see everything from the underside. On their tongues every taste of life is bitter; in their eyes every living scene unfolds under a shadow. They aggressively scan events and people for material to "bitch" about. ThEy seem to live to heap up more and more evidence that the'ir world and everyone in it are no good. One ex-priest, for instance, offered to the president of his uni-versity this odd praise about a just-completed.building: "Even I can find nothing to complain about." That man had known for decades that he lived a bitter life, and all he would do about it was to wear a mask of sardonic drollery over his emptiness. His friends all connived in his bit-terness, too, laughing at his lunges and unable to name what made him so rancorous. Yet it was plain: he gave himself to disgust at God's lov-ing creating---of his own artistic gifts, of his self, of the motley collec-tion of men and women around him. A recovering alcoholic, a woman whose children have grown and gone, has decided to live without drink, but has also decided to live feel-ing cheated and shortchanged by her disease. She is what Alcoholics Anonymous calls a "dry alcoholic." She bitterly protests'that she can-not take a drink as can nonalcholics. She demands to be able to take a casual drink and hates that she cannot. Her conversation--on whatever topic--roils with rancor. She certainly does not say yes to a self troub-led by her disease. She plainly repudiates that part of herself and dark-ens her whole life with her refusals. But who creates her alcoholic genes? Who makes a gift of each day she lives? Whom does she offend by re-fusing to rejoice in each of her living days-.'? The bitter and rancorous may seem to hate everyone around them, and may indeed do so, But as "char-ity begins at home," so does hatred. Fifth: workaholism. A lot of holy people work Ioiag, hard days out of sense that their own time is precious and their own gifts needed by God's people. They work in inner freedom. A lot of others fling them-selves into some special work because they truly love and exult in what they are doing. But very many people work and work and work and do The Mirror in the Field / 827 nothing else. They cannot not work. Their work makes up their life and their self. They do not have the freedom to take true leisure--to enjoy, as we say very accurately, themselves. The truth is that they do not en-joy their selves. They do even not approve of themselves, except a little bit when they are exhausting themselves at work. Henri Nouwen tells of a priest who would not, could not, take time in his day to be still and pray and who finally came to admit why: "I am afraid of what I will find in myself." Precisely. Real workaholics fear their selves. They keep producing and producingbecause they do not really believe they are worth anything apart from what they produce. One religious who had badly burned her-self out in twelve years of administration asked, "What am I trying to prove?" She was trying to prove what she did not need to prove, but only to accept: "You are precious in my eyes, and I love you" (see Is 54). The mere attempt to prove that I am worthy of God's creating love stands in direct opposition to acknowledging that his love comes first and humbly acceptipg it. Three other ways that we live out inadequate self-love show up often enough to merit mention, and several minor ways can just be listed. Sixth: perfectionism. Some of us continually place impossibly high goals for ourselves, which "proves" how much we think of ourselves. Then, as a matter of course, we fail toreach those goals, and that "proves" that we are not really what we like to think we are but in fact ~ire not worth much. For the perfectionist, nothing ordinary serves; he or she needs to aim only for the perfect. As an instance: A truly fat man in the.South decided that a man like himself, ought to look like a Califor-nia beach boy. So he.set out to diet by eating only one thousand calories a day, a caloric intake unlikely even for a scarecrow. Within seventy-two hours he found himself back to eating a thousand calories before noon, and, of course, to this day he lumbers around no less large. He does, however, feel more convinced than ever that he is weakwilled and worthless. Why cannot this man simply eat more rationally? Many rea-sons operate, perhaps; but one leadifig reason is that he cannot see him-self simply as a normally rational person. He demands that his mind have despotic sway over his whole self and particularly over his appetite for food. He demands that the physical shape that would emerge from the fat resemble--not an ordinary, regular-sized American male moving to the downside of middle age--but a bronze statue of Hercules by Phidias. He will be perfect! The tr.uth is that with that demand he covers a fear that he can have no kind of reasonable sway over his self and his appe- Review for Religious, November-December 1988 tites. He hides that self-deprecating belief under a cover of perfection-ism. A lot of good,'praying people do the same. One mature and experi-enced nun who ha~l pray~ faithfrilly for years could not shake the feel-ing that'her prayer was "not very good." Her prayer was fine, in my opinioh; what needed spiritual insight and God's gracing was her demand that she pray like Teresa of Avila. This woman had not really been will-ing to approve wholeheartedly her own way of praying, and that unwill-ingness by itself had kept her off center and vaguely unhappy for years. Seventh: lust for experience. We need to note first that~today Ameri-cans place, tremendous trust ih our own experiences and feel keen dis-trust of any "truth" not-arrived at experientially. Further, we can be per-suaded rather readily to try anything, from a drink' or a drug to a new kind of prayer. We tend to subscribe to the pseudomoral dictum that, ~if you are able to, then yowought to expei'ience everything. We :are all in some measure like the'New York woman in analysis who reported her exhaustion to her doctor--too much sex, drugs, dancing, eating,° not enough sleep. The doctor asked her why she' did it,~and the woman bolted up and blurted out, "You mean I don't have to do everything I want to do?" She was in analysis because she was not doing what she wanted to do, but.,what her social group made her feel she ought to want to do. She felt ~compelled to experience whatever the group moved into. 'That compulsivity and obsessiveness grows out of an empty~ center. She did not really know what she, herself, wanted todo in,the depths of her.self; she feared the depths of her self. ~, Many of us give ourselves to experiences that diminish our human dignity or diminish our freedom, as~did the woman in analysis. I know. one couple whose children, now beginning to move into their own ca-reers, have. submitted to eve~ry kind of religious :experience, from CCD at home to charismatic~weekends and the permanent diaconate, because the parents hankered after spiritual"experience, not because the children required anything. Some Catholics roam from liturgy to liturgy,oseeking the ritual that,w.ill fill their "needs"~as though Sunday Mass does not rise out of fullness, 'bUt fills an emptiness. In them, actually, it is made to, occasionally and briefly. Eighth: inability to make commitments. Why have so many failed to make firm, long-range commitments? Among the many reasons, Cas-sian pointed out one very basic reason when he described the gyrovagus, the wandering monk who always came to feel that the'monastery over the next.~hill had a better religious life than the monastery he.live~t in. The Mirror in the Field / 829 So he wandered to the next and the next monastery, hoping to become a better monk. Fundamentally, the monk's problem lies not in his mon-astery; his problem lies in his own self. He does not like the monk he is. He does not approve of the monk he is. Or if he does, he does not want to grow into the man that this monastery, with these monks, at this time, will shape him into. So he moves on again and again, unable to make the crucial permanent commitment. A young Texan turned into a living gyrovagus when he went from a diocesan seminary to a congregation's novitiate to taking vows in an order and then to another diocesan seminary. His disapproval of the way he lived in those places seemed to be of those "monasteries"; actually, it reached deep into his own self. I would not expect ordination to fill his emptiness, and if he does accept ordination, his parishes (a succes-sion of them, surely) will have an impossible time making him under-stand that they appreciate him. Another example of the inability to make lasting commitments: A gifted psychological therapist changed cities several times and kept ac-quiring new skills. He even absorbed thorough training in spirituality and spiritual direction. When he was about thirty-five and weary of starting over again and again, he came to understand that he had never really felt the weight ,and value of his very considerable talents. As he let himself appreciate them withoutguilt, and particularly as he consciously built friendships with highly intelligent and success'ful peers, he felt more and more grateful for his own gifts and freer to rejoice in using them with-out having to feel that he was required to. He also felt himself more and more deeply committed--to his profession, to his faith, to his friends, and to the city where he had settled. Then there is the marriage commitment. We can leave aside cases of psychological dysfunctioning, like the California twenty-year-old who left his often drugged wife three months to the day after the church wed-ding, muttering that he had not known whom he was marrying. He had known, actually, and so had his friends and his parents. His actual spiri-tual problem had been that he had not known that he was punishing him-self by marrying her. Among the sane and whole, every spouse faces bone-deep challenges in living out the marriage commitment. For, once married, each feels invited to be a new person by union and communion with this special spouse who invites him or her. She will at times ask herself vehemently, "Why did I ever marry him?" At those times she will be feeling the stress of still becoming and changing in ways intimate to her marriage that she cannot control. She cannot design to make her Review for Religious, November-December 1988 spouse another person than he is, even though as he is he will give shape to herself. If she truly loves herself as a married woman, she will wel-come those new ways of becoming and growing along with him, saying her yes to her emerging self. In the same way, if a husband deeply ap-proves of himself as husband and likes the man who is this woman's hus-band, he will hardly insulate himself from the summons to grow and change that emanate from this woman as she lives and becomes, even though he has no mastery over the ways he feels summoned to grow and inexorably will at times keenly resent them. So monk and professional and married person all either say yes to an emerging self whose emergence none controls all alone, or say no. Our primordial task as creatures remains intact in and through all our free decisions: to praise God for what we are becoming, reverence his creat-ing, and serve him by following where the Spirit of Life leads us--in the concrete. To this list of eight larger flawed realizations of self-love, various writers add other specific ones. Cassian adds monkish indolence, acedia. St. Thomas adds garrulity, prying curiosity, and true malice. He also lists religious diffidence, which means the refusal to grow in the interior life. Could he speak right now, he might add integralism to that, because the rock-bound conservative often clings to externals like Latin rites or neoscholastic formulations to defend himself against a deep fear that his own faith-commitment and believing would not stand up to current chal-lenges. Some centuries later SCren Kierkegaard explored the "despair from weakness" of those who finally cannot let themselves trust the self that God is creating in them. In their turns, Josef Pieper dwells on one grave inability of those who do not approve of who God makes them to be: the inability to take true leisure. And Sebastian Moore shows that those who feel unlovable do not love anyone or anything very much. All their desiring is pallid, so consistently that he names their condition a spiritual disease: erosthenia, a flaccidity of passion. This makes an impressive list of spiritual problems: laziness, inef-fectualness, negative self-image, bitterness, workaholism, perfectionism, the insatiable lust for experience, the inability to make lasting commit-ments, and also acedia, garrulity, prying curiosity, malice, integralism, the despair of weakness, the inability to take leisure, and erosthenia. Plainly, they arise from many different life experiences and in varied life circumstances. Just as plainly, they have many causes and motivations. But in our own day and time, they all readily grow as it were in vitro, from a hollow self, flooded with the nourishing medium of pitiful self- The Mirror in the Field / 831 disapproval or arrogant self-hatred. This unwillingness to accept the self I am coming to be, which can ripen into a disgust with who I am and even a resentful hatred of myself, very possibly makes up the deepest root of sin in our day and time. The Wholehearted Life In the face of such a list of spiritual problems, any talk about solu-tions would show extravagant optimism. Fortunately, I am not discuss-ing here the solutions of many problems, but the escape from or avoid-ance of a single problem: the radical spiritual one of refusing to accept, in concrete particulars, whom God is making me. But even then I intend not to list all the saving activities we might throw ourselves into to solve that single problem, because that would tend to confirm the very mis-taken conviction that underlies the problem, that our own activity comes first in our salvation. Instead, in this last section, I will sketch briefly and from living mod-els how those people live who are very successfully avoiding or escap-ing this foundational problem. I experience them as, and name them, wholehearted. Not that their hearts beat totally integral and without the murmur of human flaws and failings. Rather, they live out of their whole hearts--their selves--just as they find them in this minute. The whole-hearted might twang like an old player piano, but with every note and chord they give God and the world around them all the music they can pour out. I will speak first about the inner life of the wholehearted and then about its external manifestations. What goes on in their spirit from day to day? First, they say yes to this day, to the gift of it and the gifts in it. They not only "live in the present moment"; they approve of the present moment as of a gift. And in that yes they are approving of their personal history and the life they now lead. More, they choose to live glad to be what they now are and to be doing what they are doing (unless, of course, they have come to a time of decision, which they will perceive more as opportunity than as termination). When they think larger, they do not feel guilty about the plenty and the privilege in which they live. To start, they feel grateful for the earth, and for humankind, and for the universe. They feel desires of many kinds, some of them strong. Among them all, they try to keep their de-sire for God in Christ in first place. For the rest of their desires, they take responsibility as well as they can, enacting those they think authentic Review for Religious, November-December 1988 with courage and with equal courage suppressing those they recognize as drawn from unworthy sources (the Spirit of Darkness or of unruly flesh). In all desiring, what they want keeps them connected with the peo-ple around them and in some appropriate measure with current, affairs~ All in all, their desiring shapes up into a great desire to make things all right for the world and for every single person now in it; but their hop-ing does not depend on immediate success in the eriterprise. The wholehearted live in appropriate autonomy. As teenagers, for in-stance, still coming to be individuals they depend heavily on peer'opin-ion. As young adults, vindicating their uniqueness; they live carefully independent of "popular opinion;" particularly about the moral cruxes in interpersonal relations. As spouses, they give and take in thorough in-terdependence. All along, precisely because they like themselves, they are able to stabilize affective relationships. This liking of themselves gives rise in them to what is sometimes called a'democratic personality structure. Negatively, this means that their personality is not bound down by one need or drive or ideology. The spiritually wholehearted are not broadly compulsive; on the con-trary, they live and move in relative interior freedom. I do not mean that they never have some dominant desire or great enterprise in their lives. Some live outof a profound, specific desire. Neither do I mean that the wholehearted do not sin, ev.en seriously. I have known some who did. They sinned wholeheartedly, and if they repented, they repented whole-heartedly-- hating rather the thing they did than the one who did it. A married man high in a bloated corporation gave himself a year or two of lascivious fornication. When he heard the Spirit (his words) summon him back, he submitted himself to astonishing inconveniences and physi-cal discomforts suggested to him as (a long) penance. Put positively, all of the wholehearted can hold some priority and or-dering in what they want to get accomplished, gladly getting at one goal while postponing others without guilt. They can also respond readily to surprise demands, able to set aside their own agenda when they see that as appropriate and not feeling put upon about it. We need to take care here. In my experience, some of us suffer from one or other addiction or compulsion (neatnik, chocolate maniac, or some less acceptable culturally) and yet live truly wholehearted lives. This is a mystery to me, that we can find ourselves broken and power-less to heal the break and yet lead wonderfully wholehearted lives. I take this as truly suffering from the Original Sin and from all those sins vis-ited .upon us without our approval or connivance, or with our forced co- The Mirror in the Field / 833 operation, by alcoholic parents, sexually addicted elders, neurotic supe-riors, viciously selfish peers, and on and on. Somehow we are sum-moned within the pockmarked life that all of us lead to give our yes to God's passionate loving in us. I do not see that holiness is wholeness. Most of us find ourselves with neuroses, mild or severe, temporary or lifelong. If we can, for all that, love what we find and the One who is making it, then we have begun to live holy lives. There is much more to this, but we cannot ignore addictions and com-pulsions and the yes that those of us who suffer them must say to the self that God is making us. For very many of us find ourselves in this excru-ciating condition. All of us need to remember that at the core of every addicted and every compulsive self--the phobic, the masturbator, the child-beater, even the rapist--the passionate loving of God burns on crea-tively. But each of them stands on the brink of an apparently impassable chasm. For no one can be in touch with that creating love who does not love the self within whom it burns, and such a staggering number of us are taught, subtly.and powerfully and with enormous precision, to dis-like or to hate ourselves. The fact is, social psychologists are beginning to discover, addictions and compulsions normally grow out of an inade-quate appreciation of the self or out of self-hatred. Then how are com~ pulsive people or addicts to think of this? The way all of us think: As I say my yes to God's creating love, I will know that I am humbly truth-ful and wholehearted when I rejoice even while I suffer what I am and what is. I am heroically wholehearted when I can set aside any demand on my self that I myself or any other persons or things be as I think they "ought" to be and can take all as I find it. We all do what Paul did af-ter he had prayed three times and the thorn still rankled. The thorn just kept rankling, and Paul just kept on sinning (by his own testimony); but we have no evidence that he got down on himself for that or any other reason. Paul certainly knew his worth, and that is a great, great virtue. This brings me, second, to the ways a wholehearted yes to the Lord manifests itself externally. The first sign is joy. Let the light bulb accept electric current. In-stantly it is full of light and instantly it radiates that light to all around. In just that way, the wholehearted radiate joy. Even when they find in-justice and disorder, they are filled rather with a sorrow that leads to com-passion that leads to action--than with a sadness that leads to pity that leads to self-absorption. This joy gives the wholehearted a definite, in-viting presence. They like who they are and therefore feel no need to hide or wear masks. They are simply present, shyly if they are shy, brightly Review for Religious, November-December 1988 if they are bright, brashly if they are young enough. Moreover, the wholehearted live an effective life, by which I mean they make things happen. They live content that God is giving them this or that job or task to do, and simply do it. And at the same time, the wholehearted usually have a lively sense of duty and of obligation. They seem to trust their own consciences, and they clearly trust that God is ordering all things sweetly from end to end. So the wholehearted tend to rejoice that they are required to do something or to omit something. They do not have time to regret what they might miss; they are too busy enjoying what they hit upon. Their attitude toward authority shows itself wholehearted, too. Here is a hugely complex business, but let me just say that any who like who they are and what God is making of the world really perceive the work-ing of authority in the world and actually accept the consequences into themselves. They feel the pull of authority where it actually appears, let-ting it instruct their understanding and warm their motivation. They also sense its absence even when someone is throwing his weight around, and if they conform when pressed by raw power, they do it while maintain-ing their sense of self-worth. As the wholehearted grow more and more mature, they can calibrate more and more subtly the weight of authority and their own response to it. I could list a number of other external signs of a wholehearted yes to God's passionate loving. The wholehearted, for instance, show a true love for creation and prefer to honor their environment. The whole-hearted seem able to show benevolence all around, not threatened by the rich or pressured by the poor, gracious to the bright and to the doltish. They tend to learn compassion early in their lives, and empathy, too. They approve of their culture even while rejecting values in it that con-tradict their own. Speaking of Americans, they live very grateful to be called to life in a rich, free, exuberantly creative land, and they show their gratitude not by badmouthing the nation, but by doing what they can to leave it somewhat better than they found it. But let me end by pointing out a nearly infallible sign of a whole-hearted yes to God's creating love: the wholehearted can take true lei-sure. What is true leisure? I find the experts--Karl Rahner and Josef Pieper, for instance--hard-pressed to define leisure, but they are clear that people at leisure are out from under production goals and rigid work-schedules and that whatever activities they might engage in do not pro-duce food and clothing and other things necessary to human life. Nei-ther do those at true leisure lie in passive numbness, their imaginations The Mirror in the Field / 835 blank and their energies depleted. Rather, they typically play or muse or commune with friends or create. In general, leisure means the free en-actment of our whole humanness simply out of joy that we live--in this or that way, here, in this place, among these folk. We take leisure while all our regular tasks wait to be looked after, feeling sure that One watches while we let them go. We evoke leisure, not theoretically, but from the concrete gifts we choose to act grateful for, sensed as rising from the pas-sionate original gift of God's creating love. Those who pray and wor-ship God take the truest of true leisure. The Last Reflection And those who have thought these thoughts about inappropriate self-loathing and appropriate self-love, and felt all these convictions about saying yes to God's creative love burning in the core of their life and their self, have given themselves to true leisure. In the measure that they feel consoled by them, and in the measure that they feel joy rising through them, they are giving themselves wholeheartedly to the passion-ate love of God burning in the center of their selves. They are mirroring back to him the blazing love he radiates to them and in them. They are becoming the mirror in the field. Standing on a Wooden Bridge It creaks now more than it used to . seems I left myself standing here only to meet me farther on here. The swirling water carries my frail leaf far beyond the viewing point. Refulgent water, flow me forth unto the Son! Barbara Ann Opfer 2027 Campbell, B-8 Sandusky, Ohio 44870 The Addicted/Dependent Minister Thomas D. Noesen, O.P. Father Noesen was a diocesan priest for eleven years before entering the Order of Preachers. He may be addressed at Aquinas Institute; 3642 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. "that our affections kill us not--nor dye" (John Donne) It is no secret that stress and burnout are high among professional minis-ters. Priests, religious, and lay professionals need at times to get out of ministry for their own well-being and to get in touch with their own de-pendencies. Priests are in the top listings of professionals with alcoholic addiction. The present-day minister struggles with human dependencies and addictions which bring persons to a dysfunctional level of service. Henri Nouwen says that we are wounded healers and that sometimes the minister is more wounded than healer. "Physician, heal thyself" is whis-pered by some of the confused congregation, but greater numbers in the assembly empathize with a more human condition. Men and women are getting professional help in residential treatment centers, private coun-seling, and support groups. Dependency and addiction are commonplace for today's ministers. C. S. Lewis in his book The Four Loves says that the problem with ministers is that they treat the people they minister to as "other." This failure is making ministry less workable. The minis-ter need not be a barefoot cobbler. This paper will look at addictions and the minister. (In this text I use the words dependency and addiction interchangeably; this will become more obvious to the reader as the behavioral dynamics are explored.) Granted that we are part of an addiction culture, the minister falls prey to it more often. The men and women in ministry are people-oriented per-sons; some of the most perceptive and insightful members of the popu- 836 The Addicted/Dependent Minister lation are in ministry: They are insightful and perceptive not only of oth-ers and themselves but of life itself. This latter visionary quality can cause much anxiety and insecurity. The primal angst of life's meaning can bring great stress to the ministry professions. Teaching and preach-' ing daily, these people live what many people would only think of at times of birth, death, or personal crisis. This type of stress and iniensity makes ministers prime targets of addiction. The minister is granted trust by many to know their secrets, deepest feelings, and hidden thoughts. Because of intirfi~acy, the minister carries the confidences of hundreds all at one time. It is rather easy for the minister to meet the needs of the oth-ers and to neglect his or her own. Ministers can become victims to their own intensities. Four terms are used in this paper talking of addiction. They are in-dependent, dependent, codependent, and interdependent. Independency and codependency are both unhealthy. The reader needs to know that any-one can be part of all four at once. The healthiest movement is always toward chosen dependency and interdependency. Codependency Many times the minister comes from a codependent background and unknowingly continues the dynamics in ministry. Adult children of al-coholics are common codependents. The traits of codependents are closely connected with the minister. The codependent is: I. usually a very good person, valuable to society, and often ends up in the helping professions. (One study shows 83% of nurses were from alcoholic homes and the oldest children.) Codependents are nice and likeable people. 2. a victim of low self-esteem and self-worth and makes himself or herself indispensable to others. (In counseling, the codependent coun-selor gets angry at the dependent spouse rescuing the addicted spouse. That adds up to three dysfunctional addicts--thi~ two spouses and the counselor.) 3. a good sufferer. These people make "good" Christians, martyrs, and so forth. The unspoken script of the codependent is "I'm good be-cause I suffer so much." 4. the first to volunteer; always wanting (actually needing) to be of service; always wanting it to be noticed that they are exhausted. 5. selfless to the point of hurting himself or herself. Psychosomatic illness is common in the codepeqdent. Life becomes a pain in the anat-omy. There is a need for aspirin, Bufferin, Preparation H, and so forth, in the beginning, and it can build to major medical care over years. Review for Religious, November-December 1988 Thes-~'five points can define a messiah complex in a nonreligious ter-minology. A codependent is anyone out of a dysfunctional home; so this term codependent is generic: an embarrassing spouse, children, extended-family members. Codependency even links emotional disabilities to un-known ancestors. So what is the codependent's payoff? The people with whom the codependent interacts become dependent on the codependent; this way the codependent feels needed. Naming the Addictions/Dependencies Since ministers teach the gospel statement that the ff~uth will set one free, denial of addictions should have little space to survive. But nam-ing, claiming, and taming dependencies is very difficult because the de-pendencies are cunning, baffling, and powerful. There are two types of addictions: substance addiction and process addiction. Substance addic-tion is an element that can be and should be totally removed. Process ad-diction is something that will always be present, but needs to be lived with constructively and not destructively. This latter addiction is the thorn in the side of most ministers. Addiction is an exaggerated pattern. Rigorous honesty is the key in reading the following lists. Twelve-step programs use the rigorous-honesty term, and this honesty often needs to come from outside the de-pendent. Until honesty is present, the dependent is a victim. Some common substance addictions/dependencies are: alcohol / sex (cas-ual or recreational) / caffeine / chocolate / nicotine / cocaine/heroin / refined sugar / gambling / marijuana / counter drugs / prescription drugs. Some common process addictions/dependencies are: work or busy-ness / sex (casual or recreational) / negative memories / "prayer" and worry / eating disorders (boulimia, anorexia, compulsive overeating) / religious fanaticism / sports (spectator or participant)/"collecting" de-pendent people / exclusive friendships/the Peter Pan syndrome / the Wendy complex / exercise /reading / attention-rejection-exhaustion / greed (compulsive spending) / control-powe'r~manipulation / success-failure- competition / TV ! sleep / anger-guilt-depression / self-pity and co-pity / anger-denial-control. Ministers are often addicted to ministry itself because they are so needed. To be human is to be dependent, but there is a healthy balance which ministers have an obligation to discern. All helping professionals have a responsibility to get their good feelings somewhere other than their clients. Ministers must know their dependencies well in order to min-ister effectively. It is so easy for ministers to project what they them-selves need onto someone else. Really soon--because of the ministers' The Addicted/Dependent Minister addiction bent--feelings get very muddled and quality ministry is endan-gered. Ministers are constantly dealing with others' feelings and can stuff their own. These stuffed feelings can come out as body illness or inap-propriately elsewhere. For example, for ministers to get charged up in anger with the clie ~nt, or with the client's oppressor, or the client's anger at the Church, or the client's anger at government, and so forth, is eas-ier for them than claiming their own inner anger, guilt, or whatever. Granted that these feelings of the client may be very real, still the "dance" of the dependent minister may be to a different tune than the client is trying to play. It is as if one is fox-trotting and the other is do-ing the waltz. Choosing Our Addictions/Dependencies Dependencies are a given to our human condition. Ministers should be model addicts by example; this is where the newer holistic spiritual-ity models can be most helpful. Ministers need to choose daily, healthy dependencies. To list a few: time alone, prayer, reflection, physical ex-ercise, support groups, non-ministry-oriented hobbies and/or friends, and nonprofessional reading. Healthy ministers continually expand and deepen throughout life--this is an integrating process. Unhealthy minis-ters fragment and splinter themselves to meet their needs of dependency and take a flock of disciples along. Healthy ministers need both to mas-ter and be mastered; unhealthy ministers either master totally or become totally mastered. Remember, extremes mark the unhealthy dependent per-sonality. Often unhealthy ministers want to be appreciated (needed) for their wealth of knowledge, fund raising, generosity, cleverness, organiza-tional skills, virtue, leadership, and so forth. None of these qualities can be considered intrinsically wrong, but the ministers' control of them can take away even God's freedom of their use. This is not to say that good is not accomplished by addi~:tive ministers; it is. The problem usually is the unhappiness of the ministers and not always the results of their min-istry. In our Church many of the most rewarded ministers are the most unhe~ilthy addicts. The Codependent Cast of Characters The alcoholic home has taught us much about unhealthy dependen-cies and the roles the members fall into. The minister may often come from a dysfunctional home that is not necessarily alcoholic. The family characters are listed in their usual order. Often the minister is one or 1140 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 more of these characters. Maybe the minister played out one role as a child, a different one as an adult, and maybe even a different role in his/ her professional life. When there is a dependency in a home, the whole family system is dysfunctional. No one escapes and everyone is affected. Those various persons may be described as follows: The dependent(usually a spouse) is the one using the substance around which the whole family unit rearranges itself. The family's individual needs and feelings are not met because of°denial, guilt, and anger. The enabler (usually a spouse) feels responsible for everyone's feel-ings. The enabler usually tries to keep peace, save face, and guard the family secret. The enabler makes ends meet financially and emotionally. The enabler needs to control and needs to be needed. This person thrives on exhaustion. The hero (usually the oldest) tries to keep the family secret by look-ing good at school, work, and so forth. This can be in sports, honor so-cieties, and so forth. The hero is organized, responsibl~, and mature to extremes. The hero is a doer-~cannot stop doing. The hero suffers from fear, loneliness, and stifled anger. The scapegoat (often the second child) is prickly and hard to get along with; he or she appears to be the family problem. The scapegoat often chooses wild friends, gets pregnant in teen years, breaks the law, and gets into substance addiction. Traits of the scapegoat are very diffi-cult and frequently impossible to understand. The lost child (usually the third in birth) often uses isolation for self-protection; lives in fantasy, quietness, and distance; wants to please at all costs; tries to be good but feels bad; has no opinions or feelings to speak of; never causes problems. The mascot (often the youngest) laughs on the outside and cries on the inside; is clumsy, whimsical, and so forth, while trying to focus off the substance; is the clown trying to make the sad family better. This person is hyper, but lonely and scared. He or she is the family medicine man. As ministers try to bring care to a family, the trap may snap and they can easily be caught and overwhelmed. Ministers must therefore have some knowledge of basic dependency dynamics, but, more than that, they should have a keen awareness of their own inner feelings and de-pendencies. They must know their own limitations and be able to say no and to judge when to refer clients. At such times they minister to them-selves. If they do not take care to function at their best, they will be caught in self-pity and/or co-pity games. The minister may say "this whole thing is absurd," "too much The Addicted/Dependent Minister / ~141 analysis," "my past is my past," and so forth. Perhaps the minister is clean and emotionally balanced; that does not mean the parish staff, re-ligious community, and/or office staff share that same wellness. Today more and more ministers are looking hard and long before taking a posi-tion. By the same norms, the employing staffs are screening more be-fore hiring. Many parish staffs are dysfunctional because they are clos-eting one or more unhealthy dependencies. Clinebell (Pastoral Care and Counseling) says that "spiritual vitality and health are contagious; it is caught more than it is taught." Ministers look more and more for an en-vironment of wellness if they themselves are well. The Rocking-Chair Minister Rocking-chair ministers are not on the porch waiting for someone to come and seek help; on the contrary, they are twice as busy as other min-isters trying to get the gospel spread. "Rocking chair' '--because interi-orly they go back and forth like a rocking chair; their feelings and ac-tions are all fuzzy and confused. Nevertheless, they are sometimes bla-tantly forceful people. There are several cycles of feelings and behavior that dovetail together. The following are some specifics of the "proc-ess addiction" mentioned above: Unhealthy Process Healthy Process worry/' 'prayer" anger/guilt/depression attention/rejection/ exhaustion anger/denial/control self-pity/co-pity affirmation/ownership/ integration/letting go anger/ownership/expres-sion/ letting go control/ministry assess-ment/ service/letting go delegation saying no In the following stories, theologies or ministry models vary. But that is not the issue. The issue is the ministers' inner world; that is, the min-isters are not ministering to themselves even though, otherwise, they are very effective ministers. Story A Father Jones worries about his people because they are so poor. They are doing better than they were before he came, and many of them tell him how much they appreciate his concern. He prays that God take care of this poverty and abolish it. Soon he finds himself an-gry at God for not curing the problem, angry at the insensitive bishop and at those in their posh offices for not prioritizing this; he is angry at 1142 / Review for Religious; November-December 1988 the richer members of the parish because they are not removing the pov-erty from their own parish. Burdened with guilt for attacking God, the Church, and his parishioners, Father Jones turns inward; depression and dullness set in and the cycle begins all over again. Father Jones is from a good small-business family that has been reputable in the community for generations. The cycle here is worry, prayer, anger, guilt, depres-sion. Story B Millie is in social-outreach ministry. She started a parish pro-gram and became deanery coordinator in this same area. Now she has founded the diocesan office for reaching out to teenage single mothers, runaways, and abused children. She holds a high profile with the me-dia. It gets money for the project. She loves the attention and limelight, and she feels it is all for Jesus. When given Church honors and civic ac-claim, she rejects it all. Miilie is torn inside between wanting to be no-ticed and disowning the recognition. She has been taking medicine for what her doctor calls exhaustion. Millie has tried to explain to her doc-tor that he is indispensable at this time; she will back off later when the time is right, Millie's dad was an alcoholic, but he has been sober since she was in the first grade. The unhealthy cycle here is attention, rejec-tion, and exhaustion. Story C Tyler is one of those rare, always smiling ministers who do very well with youth. One of his personal goals for youth is sacred space. In both parishes where he has been, he had small, multipurpose rooms that served for recreation and worship space. In the one parish there was a room with a large wooden carved crucifix before the youth took it over; in the other parish, a family had donated a large crucifix in memory of their daughter, killed in a summer outing. In both places Tyler went rounds over the crucifix issue. Always pleasant, he demanded a risen Christ figure. He said we are about resurrection and not all tfiis pain. "I believe it is Easter we are to remember; let's not make our kids hold on to Good Friday." Tyler escalated these issues to maximum polarization; the people became divided. Tyler had theologized his anger, stuffing it away, and used Christ to deny it; using his charism and position, he con-trolled the environment and won out. Tyler had been adopted at two months of age. His birth mother had neglected and abused him. He was raised in a healthy (functional) family since three months of age. Story D Deacon Bernard loves to minister. He would be a priest, but he wanted a wife and family and left seminary in college. Bernard is very well liked by the people because he is so filled with empathy. Recently he has had several counseling sessions with Phyllis. At twen(y-five years The Addicted/Dependent Minister of age, Phyllis has finished two M.A. degrees--one in counseling and the other in theology. Phyllis is very angry with the Church about not being able to be a priest. During many sessions she has talked about how victimized she felt. Bernard shares her feelings; he has felt put off by the Church because he got married. Being ordained a deacon is okay, but he feels victimized also. Bernard and Phyllis are now in their sixth session. In counseling they talk about equal amounts of time on their feel-ings toward the Church. They both agree worship has become harder and harder. They feel they have been good for each other because they share so many of the same hurts. Bernard's homelife is healthy and functional; Phyllis is from a gifted and wealthy family that seems equally healthy. The cycle here is one of self-pity/co-pity. The theologies in these stories are issues, but not as much as the pain and hell these ministers are causing to others. The rocking-chair process addiction is not a matter of standing still; though moving, it is going no-where. All these ministers are gifted and likeable people. These depend-ency stories are more subtle than that of the staggering drunk pastor or the power-hungry director of religious education, but their subtlety serves as a reflection on the movement out of addiction/dependent be-havior. These stories show some common process dependencies, but there are many more. The addict wants to be happy and unconsciously creates a world of "happiness" in which to survive. There are dependency proc-esses not mentioned here peculiar to perhaps one person. The choices and combinations of dependencies are nearly infinite. Ministers are always in need of insight into themselves lest they run the risk of projecting their feelings and dependencies on the client. Minister on the Mend Ministers need to choose not rocking-chair but journey addictions. As they learn from and depend on healthy processes, they become peace-ful within and freer to hear the true struggles of Jesus. The healthy proc-esses that are most easily seen are to say no and to delegate. Both re-quire much tact and articulation if everyone is to remain free. Sometimes the ministry can more easily be done alone; often other factors enter-- such as community, collaboration, and identity--which should be con-sidered and pondered. In any case, ministry always means community. Three more models are listed earlier under the Healthy Process column. Each of these ends in letting go. A common slogan in twelve-step programs is "Let go--let God." Any healthy process will end in letting go. Jesus is clearly the model 844 / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 here. To let go (presuming the preceding steps are gone through), much reflection and healthy prayer time is needed. Ministers need time to di-gest each experience. This includes some time alone and some quality dialogue with what is commonly called theological reflection. A good minister has the ability to stand still. The old statement that moved many a minister was "an idle mind is the devil's workshop." Well, the same idle mind is also God's workshop. Each minister holds the key to the workshop door. When one's whole being is idle, the minister is able to again open himself or herself to caring for others. This means that the minister is caring for himself or herself as the first one to be ministered to. Jesus the Dependent? Jesus was human like us in all ways but sin; yet he was dependent on a home for being raised, dependent on scrolls and on people for his learning, and dependent on the elements of survival like food, warmth, sleep, and friendship. The desert fast was Jesus pulling away from food and people to experience more. Jesus was definitely dependent on the human condition. "He emptied himself" as Philippians says; and yet, without abandoning his divinity, Jesus became enslaved to our human condition of dependency. He became all those things that take each of us to the threshold of addiction and dependency. Jesus became fear, doubt, loneliness, anxiety, and anger. These are not sins but feelings. It is in feelings that one touches the threshold of dependency. Jesus con-tinually emptying himself is the movement from addiction. He did not fill himself with any substance to extreme. Jesus chose his dependencies. From the gospels those chosen dependencies seem to be friendship, the (Jewish) word of God, prayer, and telling the story (parable) plus living the story. So Jesus' dependencies are on a deeply human level but always more. Jesus was empowered with the Spirit and worked miracles of heal-ing, but still had to experience emotional suffering and ultimately death. The addiction of power and control Jesus declined over and over. He did not want to be a king, a religious leader, or a political leader. He emp-tied himself; addicts try to fill themselves. Jesus holistically emptied him-self. Flesh and bones like us, he did not even overly depend on his hu-manity. He lived and believed in his human condition and more, Jesus has the same faith in us for he was one like us. Jesus was dependent on "one day at a time." This was living the model of the Father; for him being open and dependent upon the Father became a daily reality. The "daily bread" Jesus talks of is the daily por- The Addicted/Dependent Minister tion of human and divine needs. Childlike Jesus was dependent on the human condition. True addicts/dependents become blind and their world gets ever smaller. Jesus is not blind but tries to ever open us to the larger world that he called the "reign of God." Jesus is the model for the ad-dict in the way he lived the serenity prayer: "God, grant me the seren-ity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Three Areas of Interdependence for the Minister 1. The minister in a support system A support system means to have a world of peers. Being able to talk honestly and needfully, the minister opens up, allowing himself or her-self to be the recipient of ministry. Ministry by its nature is a parent role. Therefore to be able to step out of that role into a peer relationship is crucial for wellness. To seek support ministers cannot deny or toy with their dependen-cies. They need to be able to say "I need," "I hurt," "I'm angry," and so forth. Even though these "confessions" need be made at times with clients, here it is a perspective of care for the minister. Here minis-ters make their addictions known in trust. Unhealthily dependent persons function under three unwritten rules: (1) Do not talk about the depend-ency; (2) do not trust anyone because in the long run they will hurt you; and (3) do not feel because feelings can only cause trouble or pain. With such a support system, ministers can appear arrogant or even pious. In a support system that offers freedom to talk and an environment of trust for articulation of feelings, ministers minister to themselves. Any aloof-ness starts to subside in the therapy of the support system. This is a form of interdependence. Interdependence is very difficult to accomplish because it must be scheduled on a regular basis and it must seek a quality rapport with one or more persons. So many relationships (addictions/dependencies) are codependent: "You fix me and I'll fix you." In interdependence the de-pendent lives "rent free" (as AA says) of guilt, manipulation, and shame. Once the dependency is named and claimed, some of the twelve-step programs might be appropriate. Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), nar-cotics anonymous (NA), sexaholics anonymous (SA), and adult children of alcoholics (ACOA) are support groups that meet regularly and are very good. For ministers with any of these addictions, weekly contact with the relevant group would be appropriate. Meeting less often than this is Review for Religious, November-December 1988 a form of denial to a given addiction. Other support systems like clinical counseling might be in order. See-ing a counselor can help one to look at addictive behavior. Again, a weekly meeting would be appropriate for the same reasons of denial. A spiritual director can also be helpful. It is important that the spiritual di-rector also be in spiritual direction. For the minister to ask for direction would be most helpful. If the spiritual director is not in direction, he or she is probably not conscious of personal dependencies in process ad-diction. Diocesan priests can have a support system in "Jesu Caritas" or "Emmaus" groups. The interdependence support area affords intimacy that is construc-tive and articulate. There must be a constant (weekly) point where min-isters are vulnerable, candid, and open. Ministers need intimacy more than most people; they need to have their own needs met. The more pas-toral responsibilities they have, the more difficult will be the problem of a support system that will work. Not finding such a system drives one right back into unhealthy dependency/addiction. This support system pre-sumes skills of great openness, and it demands qualified supporters who are themselves in touch with their own dependencies. God will be part of this because "where two or more are gathered, I am there"; this gath-ering of support will be the human condition laid open, and this sharing leads to the divine. Christianity itself is a support system not in theory only but in expe-rienced reality. To be Christian is to be community. Ministers model Christian living at its best as they acquire ministry to themselves. There will need to be many subcommunities like support groups within the sup-port system. For example, the substance-abuse minister may be in a "non-Christian" twelve-step program; still, the very dynamic is intrin-sically Christian by the fruits that are produced. The support system keeps (or even makes) the minister docile. Our Christian model of support is that the Master is always with us; no disci-ple ever becomes the master in Christianity. Christians are dependent on the Master. The minister lives this posture of the support system with a life of prayer. Prayer must be meditative and routine. Prayer must be daily. The minister will address Christ with "now I feel . . ." and be naked of all dependencies in his presence. 2. The Minister Using Humor as Healing Somewhere in the ritual of each day, the call to play must come. Just as "Let us pray" is ritualized, so must "let us play" be said and done. Ministers take themselves too seriously. To have a sense of humor is to The Addicted/Dependent Minister / 1~47 have a sense of healing. For some a sense of humor can get rough, laugh-ing at another's expense. Even if someone encourages being laughed at, discernment of the healing or hurting nature of humor is needed. Not all humor is healing. The virtue that comes with levity is gentleness. If ministers can laugh at themselves in a gentle and affectionate way, the humor is healing. So often caught in addiction/dependency, ministers may smile at their short-comings and say to themselves, "I'm not a saint yet," and move on with life. Humor does not mean telling jokes or developing talks (homilies) that are funny or entertaining. Humor simply brings us to reality away from our world of illusion. Substance and process addictions do produce a world of illusion. Just watching TV commercials shows us illusions, humor, and addiction. The problem with much in the media is that truth is not the main product being sold. Humor has truth at its core, and per-haps an exaggeration of that truth in humor can make a point of healing. An example of this might be telling a workaholic who is exhausted that you see no reason for him to sleep tonight: "I don't know why you can't work all night writing a major address for that group--you'd do it better than anyone else." Humor brings us to gentleness and reality; another quality is that of forgiveness. Sometimes in the healing of humor more forgiveness can take place than in more formal settings. A wink or kind facial expres-sion can be the forgiving gesture of gentleness that a given moment may need. Humor is a way of recycling the minister in a very healthy way. 3. The Minister and a Sense of Adventure This need of interdependence is seen more readily in retired minis-ters, but it needs to be present all along the journey of development. Min-isters in retirement can be the personifie~ wisdom of God even (or espe-cially) in their decrepit physical condition, or they can be Scrooge-like "humbug" people holding tightly to the past. The sense of adventure always is looking at the present and the future. Ministers can feel that "they owe me after all that I've done for them." Addicted ministers often will want to cause their own early retirement (or death). In aged ministers it is still the world of extremes if addiction is present. In a sense of adventure there is a sense of tomorrow. Ever changing by an open-ness to grace, ministers can keep looking forward to more in their life. The life of unhealthy addiction/dependency always seduces one to be-come fixated. In the interdependence of adventure, ministers respond to and embrace the limited world of themselves and the limited world of their environment. Using personal creativity, ministers can become eter- 1~41~ / Review for Religious, November-December 1988 nal students of life itself. Healthy ministers can be recognized here, with their level of interests always expanding. Self-improvement and educa-tion become an ever present sense of direction for them. They have a zest for life and a loving interest in others. Unhealthy ministers often scorn and condemn the life they see in healthy ministers. This can manifest it-self in competition or gossip or both. Ministers often live in their own professional world, a world no larger than the client's care and working for the community. "All work and no play makes John a dull boy." John is not only a dull minister but an addicted minister. There is a flatness and pity that emerge when the sense of adventure is not maintained on a regular level. Some say that a minister should always be reading a secular novel (and that does not necessarily mean of the Andrew Greeley variety). Friends and hobbies that have nothing to do with religion are excellent for the minister. The priests' poker club does not meet this need because "business" will al-ways creep into the conversation. Ministers can feel lost when not known in some place for who they are or what they are--this is a good chal-lenge to the minister. Ministers who are able to change through self-experimentation, self-denial, and self-ministry will find themselves flex-ible enough to grow in wisdom, age, and grace to the very point of death. Conclusion St. Augustine tells us that we are restless until we rest in God. There are many resting places on the journey of the minister that are anything but peaceful; these rest stops are often addictions. Satiated, confused, and disoriented, the minister quickly becomes less a minister than he or she would wish to be. These pages have looked at some cultural handi-caps in order to help ministers to be more free of them. Ministers living their faith are likely to feel some anxiety and insecurity. In a highly pos-session- oriented society that measures life by production and consump-tion, ministers become models of freedom by living a simple, unattached lifestyle. The "product" is freedom in Jesus himself. Thus, even though most ministers are addicted, they have a world of choice in their depend-encies. Those choices determine their personal happiness and effective-ness. Communal Spiritual Consolation John English, S.J. Many of our readers know at least some of Father English's writings on spirituality. In this article he discusses the significance of communal spiritual consolation for com-munal spirituality. He may be addressed at Ignatius College; P.O. Box 1238; Guelph, Ontario; N IH 6N6 Canada. The understanding and practice of spirituality has tended to focus on an individual person's experience and aspirations, but the individual needs to realize that spirituality is always in a communal context. If spiritual-ity focuses on the experiences the individual has in, through, and of com-munity, there is less danger of an individualistic spirituality. Consider the many examples in the Old Testament and the whole "Body of Chr

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X GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1901 No. 3 TABLE OF CONTENTS The Social Qualities of Robert Burns as Manifested in His Poems, 70 The Cultivation of Patriotism, . 77 Superlatives, . 80 Perseverance, . 82 A Dutch Schoolmaster's Adventure, . . . . .84 Editorials, . 88 An Old Reader, . 90 Pictures, . 91 Spontaneity in Literature, . . . . . .93 In Nature's Realm, . 96 A Country Barn on a Rainy Day, . . - . 97 All Souls Day, . 98 Exchanges, . 100 Now the bright morning-star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth, and youth, and warm desire; Woods and groves are of thy dressing; Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing! Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long. -Milton. Through wood, and stream, and field, and hill, and Ocean, A quickening life from the Earth's heart has burst As it has ever done, with change and motion, Prom the great morning of the world when first God dawned on Chaos; in its stream immersed The lamps of heaven flash with a softer light; All baser things pant with life's sacred thirst; Diffuse themselves; and spend in love's delight The beauty and the joy of their renewed might. -Shelley. 70 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY THE SOCIAL QUALITIES Of ROBERT BURNS AS MANIFESTED IN MIS POEMS D. C. BURNITE, '01 [Graeff Prize Essay] A CAREFUL comparison of the lives of poets, with their pro- ■*"*• auctions, discloses this fact, that almost universally there exists more or less inconsistency betiveen their true characters and the characters which their poems would lead us to believe they really possessed. In some cases the former belie the latter completely. In others, the works are in a large measure faithful transcripts of the men. Great uncertainty would attend an at-tempt to paint pictures of the natures of many poets were we to use as materials only the evidence drawn from their productions. Recurring bombast and affectation preclude any possibility of using their poems, with any great amount of reliability, as stand-ards by which to judge their real characters. Not so, however, with all poets. Here and there in the field of our inspection appears a bard, whose writings are a faithful reflection of his real nature. But before we can be sure that this is true of any poet, we must be certain that he is thoroughly sin-cere. So, before we can proceed to show that the qualities indi-cated in the poems of Burns are revelations of his actual personal characteristics, we must prove his sincerity. And we do this, not by a comparison of his verses with his biography, but by testi-mony drawn from the poems themselves, apart from all historical evidence. Men who talk much of themselves, as Burns does, are not gen-erally prone to admit their own shortcomings. But this poet, contrary to general practice, makes no attempt to present only the good side of his character. Frequently he gives us glimpses of his own weaknesses; not a shameless exhibition of guile, but always with expressions of sorrow and remorse. Never hidden, always open, he bares his whole heart, and shows himself as he is. He seems anxious to have us see him in a true light. How frankly and clearly he reveals his true self when he proposes "A Bard's Epitaph" for his own tomb. Read his condemnation of his own self: . THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 71 " Is there a man whose judgment clear, Can others teach the course to steer, Yet runs, himself, life's mad career, "Wild as the wave; Here pause—and thro' the starting tear Survey this grave. " The poor inhabitant below Was quick to learn and wise to know, And keenly felt the friendly glow, And softer flame; But thoughtless follies laid him low, And stain'd his name !" Can we read this and believe that Burns was not sincere ? But there are other evidences of his genuineness. Affectation and sincerity are incompatible. But, no matter how closely we scrutinize his lines, we find no indications of the former in Burns' works He must have been a lover of the truth, for he never descends to the expression of feigned emotions. His pictures are real; all are undoubtedly the products of his own experience. Of his hundreds of poems, with one or two exceptions, none are the offspring of imagination. All he presents he himself has seen and felt. We see no indications of anything assumed about his addresses "To a Mouse" and "To a Mountain Daisy." Neither is there anything false or overdrawn in his descriptions. Per-fectly natural himself, he presents things as they are. Nothing could be written with much more fidelity to life than his "Cotter's Saturday Night." Without his characteristic straightforward-ness such complete depiction of Scottish peasant life would have been impossible. All his poems manifest in the man a spirit of genuineness and deep sincerity. With this conviction, then, that Burns wrote exactly as he saw, thought, and felt, we can be certain that the social qualities which his poems suggest are identical with those he really pos-sessed. Our investigation, then, involves an answer to the question, What social qualities do Burns' poems make us think he pos-sessed ? With this answered, we then know, with some measure of accuracy, what Burns himself was socially—what it was that, in all probability, must have rendered him an ever-welcome guest both in the humble homes of the Scottish peasantry and in the mansions of the gentry. But in order that we may be competent judges as to what features in his social nature were attractive and 72 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY what were not, we must make allowance for the differences in time, place, and circumstances, and view the matter, not from oicr point of view, but from the standpoint of his Scottish contempo-raries. Only then can we avoid the danger of an over or an under estimation of the man's social constitution. We have already spoken of what we regard as the crowning social virtue of any man—sincerity. "L,et a man but speak forth with genuine earnestness the thought, the emotion, the actual condition of his own heart, and other men must and will give heed to him."* Burns, as we have stated, does this. We here have a certain quality which would of itself draw men to its possessor. A writer whose poetic works are imbued throughout with the truth must himself have been sincere. Burns must have attracted his fellows because of this one social quality, if for nothing else. The whole world loves a patriot. Even those of other nations than his own admire him; but especially his own countrymen. Burns' poems indicate the presence of patriotism in the heart of their author. Compare his stanzas with those of former Scottish bards, and what do we find ? The subjects of their themes are foreign, and they even scout their own native dialect. The poeti-cal works of Burns are the initial achievement of a new era in his nation's literature. He is the first to give out a body of dis-tinctively Scottish poetry. He saw no need to step beyond the borders of his own laud for things of which to sing. He writes of things, not English, or Irish, or Continental, but of things Scottish—thoroughly so, from his country's ' 'braes'' to her moun-tains, from her field-mice to her horses, from her beggars to her kings, from her daisies to her trees, from her " burns" to her rivers; all of his own "bonnie laud." Nor does he hesitate to take the initiative of using the language of his fireside; not, however, because he was unable to write in pure English. Some of his poems show that he could. But he prefers his native tongue, and seems to delight in the use of its quaint expressions. He appears proud of his dialect, and all he describes with it. In almost every poem there breathes the true spirit of patriotism, a quality which we believe helped to make his society desirable. What Scotchman could have avoided a feeling of attraction to the "loyal native" who wrote such things * ♦Carlyle. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 73 .'* ' j as "My Heart's in the Highlands" or "Scots wha hae wi' Wal-lace bled?" Another social characteristic is revealed in his verses; a trait indispensable to gaining the good-will of the Scottish peasantry. How generously he applies himself to the faithful interpretation of the thoughts, feelings and manners of that class amongst whom he was reared ! His poetry teems with this natural sympathy for the lowly inhabitant of the thatched cottage. His were the first Scottish poems to show it, and from it we can be sure that the man himself thoroughly loved the humble people of whom he writes. How nobly he exalts their simple lot in the words he puts into the mouth of Luath, "the ploughman's collie" in "The Twa Dogs." In the "Cotter's Saturday Night" he brings to the notice of the humble bread-winners, not the ills, but the blessings of their toilsome lives. He would make them proud of their station and their labor. He appears at all points to have been a thorough democrat, and evidently was in close touch with the lives of the poorest people. It is such qualities as these that hold men in social esteem, with thehighas well as the low. A highly sympathetic nature was a social trait which undoubtedly helped to make Burns popular. Cheerfulness is a prime essential to social success. A glance convinces us that the man who wrote these poems surely had this attribute. Such a one must have cheered the lives and bright-ened the very faces of those with whom he came in contact. At every turn we meet his genial poetic laughter. And this, too, in the same poems in which he tells of his own misfortunes. To be happy in adversity; what an enviable trait! And if he could shake off his coil of pitiful thought and recognize the good things in his own life, he surely would shed some beams of happiness on the lives of those about him. All his songs attest this quality. "When at his best, you seem to hear the whole song warbling through his spirit, naturally as a bird's."* Note it in this stanza: "Ye banks land braes o' bonnie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary, fu' o' care?" A vein of humor makes its possessor welcome. "I,augh, and the world will laugh with you." Doubtless Burns' little world "Jeffrey. 74 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY enjoyed many a laugh with him. For some of his poems fairly bubble with humor. And the author of these must have exhibited a like trait when he spoke, as well as when he wrote. We realize this when we "Remember Tarn O'Shauter's Mare;" or read the following from "Death and Dr. Hornbook": "The Clachan yill had made me canty, I was nae fou, but just had plenty; I stacher'd whyles, but yet took tent ay To free the ditches; An' hillocks, stanes, an' bushes, kenn'd ay Frae ghaists and witches. "The rising- moon began to glow'r The distant Cumuock hills out owre; To count her horns wi' a' my pow'r, I set mysel'; But whether she had three or four, I could na tell." These and many other poems, manifest in Burns himself a spirit of jocularity which, we believe, heightened the attractive-ness of his nature wherever he went. That a man was a friend of "John Barleycorn" was no social defect in Burns' day. And he'seems, from his poems, to have been a participant in "those convivial enjoyments which were not only counted excusable by the temper of the time, but gloried in by all whose heads were strong enough to indulge in them without ruin."* In fact, as a "total, abstainer" Burns' social career would likely have been curtailed. It is perfectly natural, therefore, that he gives drink and drinking a very prominent place in his verses. And the fact that he does so leads us to conclude that he was a not infrequent participant in the then prevalent jolly tavern carouses. Many evidences in his poems manifest his inclination toward convivial enjoyments of a more healthy character. He seems to have had a fondness for other gatherings than those where the consumption of "usquebae" was the central feature. We refer to such social functions as he speaks of in his "Hallow E'en." He evinces perfect familiarity with the jolly practices of that mysterious night, as he describes the mirthful sports of the country "lads and lasses." In fact, his frequent description of J *Blackwood'6. Feb., 1872. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 75 such scenes convinces us that he must have been an important member of the peasant society of his locality. But we see evidences that he would also make a valuable ad-dition to a higher plane of society than that of his own country-side. The mere fact that he was able to produce such remarkable verses is enough to show that he was fitted to move on a higher level than that of the peasant class. We can treat only briefly of a few of the many manifest traits which, besides those already cited, would make him a social attraction in the hall as well as in the hut. It is hard to prove conclusively from his poems that Burns was a good conversationalist. But we think there are indications that warrant us in believing that he was. The ease with which we understand the thoughts he wishes to convey in his lines, i. e., his extreme simplicity, together with his vivacity of expression and his powers of vivid description, lead us to think that he was a good talker. Nor would such a writer be at a loss for topics for conversation. He seems perfectly familiar with the full details of an immense variety of topics. Burns undoubtedly was at perfect ease in conversation. A keen insight into human nature, as we see it in his verses, would enable him to throw himself quickly into close sympathy with new associates; an almost invaluable social quality. His oft-appearing spirit of independence would gain him respect. The thoughtful tenderness he exhibits, not only for his fellow-men, but for beasts and flowers, too, suggests a feature in his nature which would draw men to him. Thus we see in his poetry, char-acteristics which would make his company acceptable to those of high rank. Of Burns' actual social successes in a certain direction, we have positive evidence. The great majority of his poems are con-cerning women with whom he has been in love, or at least ad-mired greatly. And we can easily see that, if not as a lover, at least as an admirer, he was accepted in .some cases. At any rate, we can judge from these poems that he had sufficient attractions to make him acceptable among the lasses of his native land. This gives us a clue, though an uncertain one, to his personal appear-ance and manners. To have been admired by so many women, he must have been to some degree attractive in looks and move-ments. 76 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURi Thus far we have considered only those things in Burns for which he was undoubtedly admired. But he shows traits that we cannot believe were acceptable to all of his contemporaries, for he refers in different passages to the fact that he had enemies. Certainly there were some who did not admire all he did; but just as we are limited in giving all his good qualities, by the fact that he does not make manifest in his poems all the traits he really pos-sessed, so are we limited, but to a greater degree, in observing all his bad qualities; for though he constantly confesses that he had monstrous faults, he has not specified what the particular immor-alities were that he committed, and we cannot know all these without referring to his biography. However, he does exhibit definitely some traits which, we believe, would be hindrances to his free movement among all classes of society. Profanity may have been attractive to his tavern associates, but must have been a shock to the strict piety which we know prevailed in his community. Reference to "Holy Willie's Prayer" manifests a spirit approaching blasphemy, an indication that the poet himself was probably not averse to the use of strong expressions by word of mouth, as well as pen. As a sincere man, Burns was a hater of hypocrisy, upon which subject he wrote several poems. But this feeling leads him into a fault. The satires he has written against hypocrites are too bitter to be commended. Were we to see only those works, we would have little desire to meet their writer. The acrimony of his invective seems unreasonable and repulsive, rather than at-tractive. We have mentioned Burns' drinking habits; but though we have no direct testimony in his poems that he himself was over indulgent, yet some of the scenes he depicts make clear that he must have been present at them, or he could not have described them so well. He at least practically confesses that he frequented places and associated with persons of low repute. Whether it is likely that he indulged in the orgies he describes, the reader can judge from the evidence. Such tendencies as these thus indi-cated certainly did not at that time constitute admirable social qualities. That Burns was positively vulgar, we must admit. A look into certain of his poems, which we do not deem fit to make more public by quoting them here, will convince us of this. It is seen, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 77 for instance, in certain lines of ' 'The Kirk's Alarm.'' A betrayal of such lack of decency, in the eyes of some, would seriously affect his social character. Though to many persons the absence of Christian qualities in a man would be no social objection, yet we must be of the opinion that Burns' great lack in this regard would form a barrier to his entrance into close acquaintance with many persons at his time. We are sorry to admit that such a genius, in all his works, shows no spirit of true devotion to his Creator and His Son. Probably a closer inspection of Burns' lines would manifest more qualities wherein he would be attractive or not; but we think we have drawn from his poems enough of both kinds to indicate whether or not he deserved to be popular. It is our decision that his good far outweigh his bad social qualities. We believe that were Burns' biography to be forever lost, with noth-ing but his poems for grounds from which to reason, the world today, were he to come back again, would greet him—just as Scotland would have done immediately after his death—with open arms. And we would welcome him, if for nothing else, because of his social qualities as manifested in his poems. THE CULTIVATION OP PATRIOTISM FRANK LBNKER, '03 HPO have a thorough understanding of the subject one must ^ necessarily have a full and true conception of the meaning of the word patriotism. Patriotism is—" L,ove and devotion to one's country, the spirit that originating in love of country prompts to obedience to its laws, to the support and defense of its exist-ence, rights and institutions and to the promotion of its welfare." From the definition of the word it is readily seen that without patriotism no good government can exist and by as much as the people of a nation are patriotic or unpatriotic, by so much that nation will be either pre-eminent or debased in the galaxy of nations. Patriotism is of different kinds. It is patriotism that leads a man to shoulder his musket and amid storms of applause and the entrancing strains of his national air to dare to fight for his country's honor. It is still greater patriotism that enables him to endure 78 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY the privations and hardships of a severe campaign and which enables him, when some very daring service is required, willingly to lay down his life. It is patriotism that a man displays when for a season he leaves the pleasures of his home, neglects his business and exposes himself to the censure of those opposed to him, to become a voice of the people in the nation's council. But only the true statesman, the man who stands for right and principle against personal interests, displays this patriotism. Then, too, anyone may be a true patriot. He need not be a soldier, he need not be a statesman, but one thing Me must be—a man—a man true and firm, a man of high principle and lofty sent-iments and above all he must dare to stand by the right. If each one should place his country's welfare above his struggle for per-sonal gain and aggrandizement, what a powerful nation such men would constitute. It is acknowledged that there is no power equal to the mother's in shaping the characters and disposition of the young. If the solemn duties and obligations of motherhood could but be more strongly intrenched in the minds of those who have assumed the positions of wives and mothers, patriotism would surely become a more self-sacrificing and deep-seated kind. Mothers should endeavor to bring their children up to maturity even-minded and devoted to their country and to their God. Early in life children should be taught to reverence the starry ensign—the symbol of their freedom, to respect the nation's laws —safeguards of their liberty, and above all to know our history. Let them know how the nation was established on a foundation of right, cemented with the blood of some of the noblest men who ever lived. Let them know how, when the nation was in its in-fancy, our statesmen studied and planned so that laws tending only to progress might be promulgated. Let them know how gallantly our warriors punished England's insult to that banner, which so long as the true American spirit prevails will tell of the freedom of our nation and assure every American citizen protec-tion abroad or a speedy vengeance if molested. It should not be forgotten to tell them of the Civil War which for a time threatened to disrupt the Union. Tell them how the North was arrayed against the South and how bravely brother engaged brother to the death. But most emphatically tell them that each fought for principle. They fought not concerning petty THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 79 matters but rather concerning deep-rooted belief that each was right. Then review how at first there seemed to be bitter feeling, then gradually take them through the intervening space of time and at last show them how gloriously a united, a thoroughly . united and closely associated baud of men, representing the North, South, East and West, defeated the cruel Spaniards on San Juan hill. Our young should also be led to hate the greatest curse of the nation, they should be taught to abhor the greatest enemy of true manhood and upright living—the moral-debasing and character-weakening rum. Can a drunkard be a true patriot? No, most decidedly not. For how can a man who weakens himself morally, physically and mentally by using the vile stuff offer his ablest and best services to his country either as a statesman, a soldier, or as an exemplary private citizen. Double-dealing, rottenness and corporation influence in politics is another great evil and the one which probably above all others might possibly cause the downfall of these United States. Oh, would that some of our statesmen were more honorable men, would that they were more stalwart warriors in the defense of right and more zealous to forward measures drawn up for the public good rather than for personal gain and advantage ! L,et those, in whose power it is to elect the law-makers, cast their ballots for none but honest men. Then, with an honorable man guiding the ship of state, and none but honorable men on the crew, how can it be otherwise than that a more patriotic spirit would be displayed in the next generation. We turn our sad, reluctant gaze Upon the path of duty; Its barren, unwilling' ways Are void of bloom and beauty. Yet in that road, though dark and cold, It seems as we begin it As we press on—I/O ! we behold- There's Heaven in it. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 80 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY SUPERLATIVES J. B. BAKER,'01 WHEN, in accusing Peter of affiliation with Jesus of Nazareth, the morbid scions of Jewish authority, said "Thy speech bewrayeth thee," they described a condition of more than local interest. The sentiment their charge embodied has outlived the perverted Sanhedrin. It prevails to-day and applies to us. We are the heirs of a rich language; londled were we in the lap of opulence and children of fortune are prone to squander. Our language, being as it is a composite one, necessarily, by the survival of the fittest, contains the accumulated grace and vigor of its varied progeny. Its verbs express accurately every shade of human thought, even to the antipodal range of a Shakespeare. Its nouns are like the notes of a pianoforte, so varied is their tone. Its adjectives, in their several degrees embellish even that which already is sublime. They are the grace notes in the vernacular strains and of all things the most difficultly used. The proper adaptation of an adjective, even in the positive de-gree, to its corresponding noun is of itself a task of no mean im-port; the comparative requires more skill, while the superlative, like a run of extras on a key board, is accomplished gracefully, only by a practiced man. And yet how prone we are to use them. With what readiness we carry every thing to a ne plus ultra. Why is it thus? Wherein lies the cause ? Emerson has probably answered it, in his essay on history, without intending directly to do so. After a short disser-tation on the various nations that have come and gone over the highway of time, he says, "But I will make no more account of them. I believe in Eternity, I can find Greece, Palestine, Italy, Spain, the islands, the genius and creative principle ofeach andall eras in my own mind." The much-travelled man does not call each high hill a cloud-piercing peak, nor does he speak of every landscape as nature's last attempt. Those are the foibles of childhood. The evolutions of such whose peregrinations have not as yet translated them be-yond their native shire. Precisely the same is true in the world of thought. The cos-mical mind uses few superlatives. The farther out it pushes into unknown tracts, the more it discovers of hitherto unrevealed re-ality, the closer appears its affinity with it, and with that increasing THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 81 identity there comes an increasing frugality of terms. He who has thoroughly established his identity with all reality could not possibly predicate a superlative of any thing without paying his own self an indirect compliment, and this, if report be true, is of all things the most odious to men of a larger growth. So much' so at least that they will use them stintingly, save only as applied to Divinity. As proof of this we need but resort to the sayings and writings of such great men. The genial paternal Emerson is judiciously sparing even in the use of his comparatives and yet there \s an ex-hilarating loftiness in all his thoughts. The many sided Ruskin speaks most frequently in simple, homely, childlike terms, and yet Carlyle compared his words to copious lightning bolts pour-ing incessantly into the black words of anarchy about him. Tolstoi, whose boldness has incurred the hostility of the Russian royalty, seldom calls things by their hardest names, yet his pen is a very scramasax in the side of monarchial iniquity. Nor is this abstemiousness from any thing that smacks of hy-perbole a characteristic only of him who sits down quietly at his desk and writes in his pacific words. It is characteristic of great men everywhere. Even in the forum, tempest-tossed and raging. The men who kindled and maintained the fires of patriotism through seven years of blood strife were men whose speech was as plain as their garb. A few months training in a country school and a six weeks course in law would not be likely to embellish much the speech of any one. But "give me liberty or give me death" had a potency that added superlatives could not augment. Daniel Webster, in that paragon of American philippics, his reply to Senator Hayne, is deadliest when he is plainest. His unadorned arrows are the swiftest. Lincoln, the great, in his speech on these hallowed grounds, gives us not only a model in structure well worth study, but manifests a chastity in terms seldom seen. Not once, in referring to the war in which we were then engaged, does he use an extravagant term such as thousands of others might with apparent justification have employed, and yet there is an Alpine sublimity pervading it all. So we might continue our citation almost indefinitely, pushing our observations out even beyond the confines ofour native tongue; including all ages past and present, all lands and climes, and find the great men every where corroborating the truth. The greater 82 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY the man, the smaller will things appear, and with the diminution of things will come a corresponding frugality of terms; deducting from this the converse and we have in very truth the modern ap-plication of those ancient words, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." PERSEVERANCE EMORY D. BREAM, '02 T^HE old saying, " A rolling stone gathers no moss," has been * illustrated so often, and in so many ways, that when we see a young man going from one thing to another, not following one pursuit long enough to overcome its difficulties, we at once con-clude that he will never amount to much. The youth who comes to college with the intention of being a doctor, a lawyer, or having in view some other profession, and when he encounters difficulties in Greek, mathematics and other hard studies, has not the conquering spirit to master them, shows to a marked degree the lack of persistency. Or if, during his college course, he is swayed from his purpose, and decides to take a special course because he has failed in some department, or there is in the regular course a laborious, abstract subject which he dislikes, and which he has not the courage to attempt, it is evi-dent that he will never be well prepared to face the more difficult problems of life. Hence, instead of steering to a position of trust and honor, he will drift down the stream along with thousands of aimless beings like himself. On the other hand, the young man who chooses a worthy and honorable calling because he knows it is right and noble to do so; because he knows that to attain the desired end he will have to work long and hard; if such a young man will do with his might what his hand findeth to do, and, like Henry Clay, Daniel Webster or Abraham Lincoln, overcome every obstacle that comes in his way, each victory won will strengthen and encourage him for something higher. With such persistency he is bound to make life a success. The boy who enters life as a clerk, and looks forward to the time when he will be a prominent business man, lending a help-ing hand to the needy, using his influence in every good cause or having some other worthy aim, and takes for his motto this I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 83 proverb of Solomon, "Seest thou a man diligent in his business? He shall stand before kings;" the boy who enters a blacksmith shop, determined to hammer out, as it were, link by link the very chain by which he is to be raised to honor and usefulness; if such boys keep in mind the life of Iceland Stanford or P. D. Armour or Clem. Studebaker, never dreaming of failure, future genera-tions will not fail to call them blessed. The drummer-boy who says to himself, '' I shall not always beat the drum. I will rise just as high as my talents or the neces-sities of war will permit;" the youthful soldier behind the gun, who performs faithfully every duty, no matter how small it may be; if within his breast burns the spirit of patriotism ; if he feel that faithful work insures success, and that success means that a man must make the best possible use of his God-given talents for the benefit of his fellow-men; if he never allow himself to be deceived nor turned from the path of martial glory by spending his time, strength and money in the regimental saloon; if such drummer-boys and soldiers take as their ideal Paul Jones or An-drew Jackson or Ulysses Grant, their names will be recorded on the pages of history. To-day there is a greater need than ever for able men in the pulpit; for h°nest cashiers in our banks; for upright and noble statesmen, who do not enter politics for money or the gratifying of selfish desires; for truly patriotic generals and admirals, like him who was called "Father of His Country," and who will not, after the war is over, fill the columns of our newspapers with abominable wrangling as to who won certain battles, Santiago for instance, or who will be promoted-and who will not. We shall be needed. Our future depends upon the present. To make the best use of our present opportunities, we must per-severe. "Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving' thine out grown shell by life's unresting sea." —The Chambered Nautilus. 84 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY A DUTCH SCHOOLMASTER'S ADVENTURE A. 0. WOLF, '04' SOME eighty years ago, in the vicinity of the little village of Gettysburg, there lived two celebrated characters. One a long, lank, ungraceful Dutch schoolmaster by the name of Joseph Sleutsenslizer, who wielded the birch in a most prolific manner and who was noted for his arrant cowardice and marked suscepti-bility to feminine influences; the other, Mike Miller by name, a type of Herculean manhood, famed for his ability to break the most vicious horse, and for a diposition to indulge in all the pranks and roguish proceedings-of the most recklessly disposed element of the mischievous young men among whom he lived. It so happened that these worthies were rival suitors for the hand of the village belle. Their antagonism had attained to such proportions that our friend Joseph had felt himself constrained to exert his influence to prevent his rival from receiving an invita-tion to a ball which was to be held at a neighbor's home some distance south of the village. For thus, the schoolmaster argued to himself, he would be able to anticipate the advances of his rival and to monopolize the society of the fair one in question. His plans had worked well. The revelry was over. The tracing and retracing of the woof and weft of the dizzy dance by the light of the roaring logs had ended. The dingy rafters had ceased to ring with peals of girlish laughter and strains of the violin. The swish, swish of fantastic feet was no longer heard. Echo from her rocky cavern stepped forth perplexed at the sudden transformation. A scamper for wraps, a change from almost tropic heat to the crisp atmosphere of a November night, and the terpsichorean revelers bid adieu to their host and the dancing. As they trudge homeward beneath the brilliant emblazonry of a star-lit sky, oceans of midnight air poured over the mountains into the forest-covered valley making its branches groan with forebodings of the coming storm. The maidens became startled at the demoniacal laughter of some melancholy night-bird only to give the attentive swains an opportunity for reassuring them. Jest is passed from couple to couple, and their hilarious spirits find vent in snatches of song and in pertinent thrusts of wit. At the fork of the road they separate with a hasty "good night" and a counter ejaculation of unthought-of-until-the-last-moment inter-rogations hurled at each receding party. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 85 Joseph was now reaping the fruit of his well laid scheme, as, with the fairest of the fair maids in the little village on his arm, he turned to the right on the road that leads past Devil's Den. His heart beat wildly for it was rarely that he had the opportunity of enjoying the society of the beautiful but somewhat reticent maid. In fact, the society of others seemed preferable to his own. This made him gloat over his good fortune as an ogre would gloat over his cannibal repast. The infatuated schoolmaster failed to conceive himself anything but a brilliant courtier in at-tendance on the object of his affection. Moreover, his bigotry would not permit him to offer his awkward, uncouth appearance and decidedly rustic air in striking contrast to the trim figure of his companion, as a possible explanation of her reticence and her disposition to indulge in a peculiar sort of suppressed laughter. Suddenly she became communicative and deftly turned the drift of their conversation on ghosts, hobgoblins and other super-stitious fancies so dear to the heart of the early Dutch settler. Oh, what's that ! she cried, clasping his arm in terror. His heart stood still. But just then a passing breeze rustled the dead leaves on a bush by the roadside which she had mistaken for the crouching figure of some wanderer from Spiritland. After this his aroused imagination saw ghosts innumerable; headless hobgoblins and winged fairies. Even the murky air seemed teeming with imaginary hosts. The drift of his com-panion's conversation by no means tended to allay his trepida-tion. In a fearful whisper she told him of a time when her father passed along that very road after nightfall, and how a horned creature with gleaming eyes and nostrils that breathed forth sheets of flame snatched him up and was bearing him away. It became frightened at the wild cry of a panther, dropped him half dead and galloped into a cavern in the adjacent hillside. Again, she related the story of the adventure of a certain deacon which happened at the rocks which they were then Hear-ing. The deacon was going home from a visit to a sick neighbor and on passing the rocks he heard an unearthly crash and felt the rock on which he stood heave under him. Thunder pealed. The sky was kindled by a lurid blaze. The ground was on flame, and fiery torrents came down in tumultuous avalanches. The rocks melted and the valley assumed the aspect of a basin of glowing ore. He bounded with the speed of the wind through the raging 86 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY conflagration. The sulphurous molten tide pursued him, spouting white columns of vapor and sheets of vitreous lava. As he ran, it gained speed on him; when he bounded, the spot Irom which he sprang was on fire before he alighted on the ground. At length he sank exhausted, but the indefatigable lava rolled on like armies rushing to battle. Suddenly the earth quaked and a fissure appeared, out of which leaped a compan}' of devils as if shot from a subterranean catapult. The foremost, whose stature was as that of a tree, advanced and with a claw-like hand had picked him up and was about to hurl him into the bottomless pit. The deacon recollecting himself cried, "Get thee behind me, Satan,'1 which so enraged his captor that, with a horrible roar, he hurled him through the air with such force that he continued his aerial course until he lauded on his own door step. Joseph was now fully aware of his danger. His natural cow-ardice prompted him to cast his eyes in every nook and cranny of that mass of rocks which now bears such a sinister name, and from which he firmly expected to see the beginning of a sponta-neous combustion which would overwhelm him. Nor had he long to wait. Just as they came opposite the rock a blood-curd-ling yell resounded which would have put to shame a vociferous Comanche brave. By a sudden contraction and relaxation of his muscles, Joseph was elevated some three or four feet in the air. He turned to look for his companion, but she was fleeing with the speed of a whirlwind and giving vent to that series of ex-quisitely rendered screeches, in which startled women delight to indulge. Another whoop from the rock, accompanied by the rattle of chains and clank of iron, and Joseph's knees began to strike each other in a remarkable manner. He looked up, and there on the summit of the rock stood his Satanic Majesty plainly outlined against the stony vault. To the excited beholder he seemed panoplied in all the regal habiliments of a prince of the nether world. His hoofs and horns gleamed in the starlight, and from his eyes scintillated the fiery sparks of his wrath. The poor pedagogue was in a serious predicament. His limbs moved convulsively. His hair rose and with it his hat, allowing the cool breeze to fan his throbbing forehead. His heart palpitated wildly. His breath came in short quick gasps. Hoping that he was in some horrible nightmare, and that his visitor would soon vanish, he looked up. His majesty was de- I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 87 liberately stepping to the edge of the rock where he tore a tree from its roots, and with a sepulchral roar leaped headlong, with the tree in his grasp, upon the terrified Joseph. The branches of the tree struck him and bore him to the earth. His tormentor leaped upon him, kicked him, pulled his hair, spat upon him, at the same time producing the most hideous noises. Tired of his diversion, he threw the trunk of the tree across the breast of the prostrate pedagogue and started, roaring like an enraged buffalo, in pursuit of the fleeing girl. A rescuing party, aroused by the clamor, came and released the terror-stricken Joseph and heard his fabulous tale. Their mirth knew no bounds. And ever after when the irate school-master was asked to relate his adventure at the Devil's Den he would exclaim, "Vat ! you dink a Dutchman's a geece, hugh ! Do you dink I shust come over tomorrow ?" This, dear reader, is how Devil's Den came to be so named. Again the sun is over all, Again the robin's evening call Or early morning lay; I hear the stir about the farms, I see the earth with open arms, I feel the breath of May. Century Magazine. Oh, the merry May has pleasant hours, And dreamily they glide, As if they floated like the leaves Upon a silver tide. The trees are full of crimson buds, And the woods are full of birds, And the waters flow to music, Like a song with pleasant words. Willis. & There is something grander than the ocean, and that is con-science; something sublimer than the sky, and that is the interior of the soul. —Victor Hugo. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entertd at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter VOL. X GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1901 No. 3 E. C. RUBY, 'Oi, Editor-in-Chief R. ST. CLAIR POFFENBARGER,' 02, Business Manager J. F. NEWMAN, '02, Exchange Editor Assistant,-E.d,.it.ors Advisor•*y Board . -K, o ,"-. PROF. J. A. HIMES, A. M., LIT. D. M. IS"S "ANNIE M. .S"W" ARTZ, '02 _ " _ " ." ~ PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. A. B. RICHARD, '02 _ T _. _ ' -. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Assistant Business Manager CURTIS E. COOK, '03 Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Peuusj'lvania (Gettysburg-) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Fifteen Cents. Notice to discontinue seudiug the MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORIALS '"pHE first day of May was once a festival in honor of an Ameri- *■ can "saint," canonized simply by popular acclamation. Our colonial troops deprived themselves of the patronage of St. George by their rebellion, and at once they looked about for a saint of their own. Their choice fell on Tamina, a sagamore of the Delaware Indians, who, tradition says, bad whipped satan. Naturally the soldiers concluded that the conqueror of satan could also overcome St. George. The name of St. Tamina was in-scribed upon the banners of the colonial troops and on the first day of May celebrations were held in his honor. These celebra-tions were a combination of the Indian war dance and the old English May Day frolics. The May-pole was crowned with a THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 89 liberty cap, and bore a tomahawk instead of the garlands of flowers used to decorate the English May-pole. The army was not alone in doing honor to the "saint." Poets sang of his virtues. His life was dramatized and appeared on the stage in many places. Societies, which usually took the place of the modern club, were formed under his name. In England it was customary, on the first day of May, to wear a sprig of green gathered in the early morning and worn all day. This sprig was called the " May." The narrow-leaved elm and the hawthorn were the trees from which the sprig was usually taken. The expedition into the grove after it was called " going a-Maying," and the carrying of it home was " bringing in the May." The erecting of a May-pole, the young men and maidens dancing around it with flowers and song, and the choosing of the most attractive maiden as the " Queen of the May," to whom homage was paid as long as the day lasted, were characteristic features in the observance of May Day. This festival was quite general in England until the Puritans of the Commonwealth put a stop to it and uprooted the May-poles. It was again revived after the Restoration, but has now nearly, if not entirely, died out. In the New England States this same festival had been observed for a short time. Here it was also opposed by the Puritans, who regarded it as an emblem of satanic rule. In such an atmosphere it could not flourish long, and soon became a thing of the past. The custom of giving " May baskets," however, survived a little longer, and for aught we know may still be observed in some places. A basket, tastefully arranged with flowers, was left by the love-sick swain at the door of his lady-love; children tied baskets and bouquets on the door-knob of the house wherein dwelt their playmates, and friends remembered each other by gifts and flowers on May Day morning. r"pHEPvE is a surprising lack of knowledge in regard to *■ South America, its people and their ways. There is more known of Europe, Asia and Africa than of South America, once an echo of Spain in her glory and the home of a brave people con-quered by treachery and deceit. When we do study its history at all, we start with its discovery and almost abruptly end there. 90 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY Perhaps it is because we do not have so much in common as we have with the people of other countries that we know so little about the people, but it would be better to be more familiar with the doings and character of the people who live on the same side of the world as we do. We usually regard South America as made up of a number of little republics always at odds and the people as indolent and uneducated. We might change our minds some-what if we knew more about them. The natural resources of the country are worth study also, the magnificent mountain-ranges, the valuable forests and mines, the rivers and bays, the fertile plains equal to any which nature has ever bestowed on any country. —S. AN OLD READER CHAS. W. WEISKB, '01 I picked up an old school reader, Which up on the attic lay, Covered with the dust of ages, Brown with mold and decay. I opened its well-worn pages— They were soiled and marked with grime, By the little hands which used them In a by-gone, happy time. And out came the flood of memory, "With a rush, a flutter and sweep, And I lived those days all over— Those days ere I climbed life's steep. Aye! there was the old brown school house, With its warped and beaten floor, And there were the old wooden benches, Arid the old thumb-latch on the door. And there was the rude cut initial, Carved on the desk and seat, And under the forms the shuffling Of stout-booted restless feet. Around me arose a murmur, A chatter and whisp'ring gay, The humming of happy children, In the school beside the way. But the cold winds weirdly sighing, Awoke me from my dream; The present lay before me— Iafe's bright and silvery stream. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 91 PICTURES MARY C. SIELING, '03 HPHERE are pictures not painted with the brush of the artist. * The hills, the valleys, the sky, the rivers—all the works of God—what are they to him that see, aught but so many beautiful pictures ? How the hills, with their trees rising rank above rank, brighten the valleys between them. What artist can imitate the delicate shade of their green ? What colors mixed by man are so beautiful as their red and gold in autumn, and in what picture hung in our houses is there expressed the desolation of those same hills in winter, when the trees are bare and the winds moan through their branches ? The stream sings through the valley, hurrying on to the sea. The sunbeams dance upon the waters, making the scene still more pleasing, while the flowers along its banks add to its,beauty. All this is a beautiful picture, and it fills our hearts with peace. In the sky, too, there are pictures. The heavens are a moving panorama. The blue of the noon-day sky is to the sight what far-off beautiful music is to the ear. It fills us with a vague longing, and turns our thoughts to what is high and spiritual. The sunset is the most beautiful of all pictures, for do not the rifted clouds, bordered in gold, with the splendor spreading from them, seem like outer battlements of heaven when the inner gates are opened ? These pictures are around us and above us day after day. They gladden us, purify us and uplift us. He who can copy these pictures on canvas is the painter, and that man is the best painter who can most com-pletely forget himself and yield his soul and his hand to the Mas-ter of all paintings, content to let himself be the means through which the copies of the paintings, engraved deep on his own soul, are made to stand out on canvas. Raphael painted his beautiful Madonna because, in his mind, there was a beautiful picture of the purity and love of the mother of Jesus, and this picture was his, not only from a study of the Bible, but from the memory of his own pure and noble mother. Michael Angel o, who in the age in which Christian art had reached its zenith, stood almost unrivaled as a painter, sculptor, architect and poet. He painted and carved as never man painted and carved before or since, because he more fully than other men let nature and the God of nature speak through his life and his hand. 92 THE GETTYSBURG MEBCURY But artists are not the only men who try to copy these pictures which God has painted. The poets and prose writers also paint pictures, not with brush and palette, but with words in writing. "The Great Stone Face," how clearly we see with Hawthorne the long valley with the great family of lofty mountains beyond, the great face of stone carved in the side of the mountain, the people of the valley. Ernest, who, as a boy and man, looked through a long life for the face that should resemble the great face carved in stone, and who should thus fulfill a tradition of the valley ! With him we look into the face of the rich man, warrior and poet, and with him we are saddened to find in each one something lacking, but with the people we shout to see at last that he, Ernest himself, is the man who resembles the great stone face. But these pictures drawn by prose writers and painters, in the end mean to us only as much as we put into them. We cannot enjoy a poem or a painting of a forest stream unless we ourselves have felt the restfulness and delightful coolness of a streamlet murmuring over the pebbles under the shade of the overhanging trees, nor will the most beautiful pictured children Millias appeal to us before we have learned in some way the beauty and inno-cence of childhood. Thus in truth, all the pictures, of which we have spoken, depend on the great painter, Nature. But every-body is to a certain extent an artist, because everybody is paint-ing a picture called character. This picture is of more importance in the sight of God and to us than any other kind of picture. Upon this picture depends our happiness hereafter. Some people are trying hard to paint the picture well, while others handle the brush so carelessly that in the end the picture is a mere daub. There are a few men whose characters stand out above others like the paintings of the mas-ters. We should study these pictures, and let the beauty of their character enter into our own lives. If you would teach a boy self-poise, coolness of judgment and majesty of character, let him read about George Washington. If you would have him sincere, looking through the glamour of symbols to the things beneath, let him study long and well the lives of such men as Socrates and Lincoln. But if you would have him to be a true man, rounded, combining all virtues, let THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 93 him study the life of Him more majestic than Washington, for He was the God of man, and more sincere than Socrates. "We should study His life until just as Ernest, by looking long and lovingly into the great stone face, grew like it in feature, we also, by looking at the picture of His character, may grow more and more like Him. SPONTANEITY IN LITERATURE J. RUSH STONER, '01 QPONTANEITY, applied to literature, may be used to desig- ^ nate that spontaneous flow of eloquence or spirit from the depth of the author's own nature, giving to literary work spice and attraction. It may have an ennobling effect, or it may have a degrading effect, according as the life and ethical ideas of the author are high or low. It constitutes the ground upon which what is commonly called good and bad literature are distinguish-able. In the higher sense it might be looked upon as inspiration in literature; in the lower sense, merely as an evil tending to de-moralize the race. All who are familiar with the poetry of Robert Burns have recognized there the naturalness with which the poet gave vent to his feelings. And with the exclusion of his coarser poems, he might be taken as a good type of authors, whose writings flow with natural freshness of pure humor, pathos and wit, appealing strongly to the higher sympathies and the nobler passions. There is in literature a force that molds the character or indi-viduality of the reader. This element, or subtle force, makes itself clearly manifest in the life principles of different individuals, through the subconscious impressions it ingrains upon the mind. For the reader, if he is in the highest sense a true reader, must be in a receptive state, imbibing the spirit and tone of the litera-ture perused. And these impressions are stored up for future reproduction in the principles of life. Enthroned thus in the ruling element of the world, this force becomes at once a power in shaping the destiny of the race. Those who are at all susceptible to literature resort to it either for rest, pleasure, instruction, or for its ennobling influence. The scientist, exhausted from his deep abstraction in the realms of nature, searching for laws and principles in large collections of 94 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY facts, comes hither to quaff from this sparkling fountain, this source of the emotional nature. It is to him a source of rest and pleasure, indispensable to his well-being, that he may draw from his life's work the best results. And, too, what wealth of in-struction is yielded to the earnest seeker after knowledge as he pries into this mine of wisdom. Above all, the ennobling effect ofgood literature is universal; experienced alike by scientist and all who come within the scope of its power. The existence of this subtle force in literature may be verified by the career of a distinguished scientist of the nineteenth cen-tury, who neglected entirely the fine arts and the reading of in-spired writings for the absorbing interests of his life's work. In this description of his own life, Darwin tells his pathetic story. He tells how in the early part of his life he took great delight in poetry and music, and then, after many years of their utter neglect, he tried to read some poetry. But he could no longer appreciate it. His mind had become a kind of machine for grinding general laws out of large collections of facts, and was so revolutionized that poetry seemed unendurably dull and even nauseating. He had lost all appreciation of the higher tastes. He says this atrophy of the emotional nature is doubtless a loss of happiness. And he expresses an intense regret that he could not have his life to live again, that he might, at regular intervals throughout his busy career, pay some attention to those things which appeal to the spiritual side of life, that this horrible atrophy in his mind might have been averted. Here was a man who accomplished a vast work in science, but his absorption in the work, and neglect of the finer arts, brought him to a painful consciousness of the reality of this element in literature, and its influence upon the reader. While there are many instances that demonstrate the reality of this force by showing the change brought about in the indi-vidual who is isolated from its influences, there are also numerous evidences of its positive influence upon the individuality of the reader. So positive is this influence, that the literature a person enjoys is an unfailing index to his character. If the mind be turned into the channels of heroic and active literature, a heroic spirit of'strong and manly principles, master of circumstances and capable of resisting the most powerful evils, is the inevitable re-sult. If, on the other hand, time is spent in devouring nonsensi- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 95 cal trash of a doubtful, or possibly degrading moral tone, you have as a reward, or rather demerit, a nerveless, sentimental tem-perament, unfit for the accomplishment of any great work, be it in the study or in life's profession. There is no more contemptible type of human character than the nerveless sentimentalist and dreamer, who spends his life in a "weltering sea of sensibility," and never does a concrete, manly deed. But, ah ! the individuality formed by contact with inspir-ing and ennobling literature ! How sublime is that character, standing firm amid the tempests, like a tower when everything rocks about it, and the weaker fellow-mortals are winnowed like chaff in the blast ! Since there is. a spontaneous force in literature exerting its influence over every reader, whether he is conscious of the fact or not, how essential it is that all current literature and fiction should be idealistic, upholding the ideal of the race; for this is the law of human progress. It would be better if the realistic novel were never published. What we want is a stalwart ideal-ism. In life " aim and ideal are everything;" so it is in litera-ture. And if these be high and just, the author is true to his profession, and will be false to no one. How great is the responsibility resting upon the author ! He may be the agency through which humanity is brought into the most exalted phase of moral excellence, or into the vilest degen-eracy, endowing the race with real wealth to promote its civiliza-tion, or bringing upon it the deadliest curse. Then let those who are looking forward to a higher order of things, social and politi-cal, equip themselves and aspire to win the favor of the people by making the idealistic literature surpass in splendor the low-grade realistic novel, as the glorious mid-day sun outshines the insignificant glow-worm. And let the unscrupulous author, who has no higher ambition than to cater to the populace, sink into oblivion beneath the weight of a refined popular taste and criti-cism. This mournful truth is everywhere confessed, Slow rises worth by poverty depressed. -Johnson. 96 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY IN NATURE'S REALM J. RUSH STONER, '01. How oft in life's deep vestige sought,— Be it in Nature's realm and throne, Where fleeting time has strata laid, And plant life quivering, by zephyrs blown, Wafts perfume o'er the sacred dead, Or in the search of truth and lore,— The Unintended lifts its head And speaks in oracles of yore! In the closing days of winter drear, When anon begins through Nature's veins To course the life of a living world, We strolled through field and rustic lanes; Enchanting for romance were they, In facts for science richer still. We searched for minerals, types of rock And phenomena caused by rippling rill. And lo! within a fractured rock A microscopic plant was seen. Perennial, delicate, tiny thing, It has of Nature's marvels been One oft escaped the human eye; A life unscathed by Aeolian breath Or Zeus' cataclysms wild, Nor felt Apollo's scorching dearth. But clinging to the rugged cliff A lonely, solitary form; In all the great, wide universe Only a little speck forlorn; Yet symmetry and order plain Are there set forth in clear design By the Supreme Intelligence, Its "Great Original," benign. A useless infinitesimal plant! But it a mission has to fill: It may proclaim the law Divine, And be of greatest value still. If it but shows that God, who keeps The stars in cosmic beauty bright, Regards the smallest forms of being, It turns on science floods of light. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 97 i And man, a spark of the Divine May see in this the message clear, That God who rules things great and small In sweet compassion holds them dear. And he may catch the inspiration, That love, the essence of the soul, Controls and rules the universe And pilots safely to the goal. A COUNTRY BARN ON A RAINY DAY D. S. Weimer, '03 TT is a warm summer morning, the folks have arisen from the long, A sweet slumbers of the night, breakfast has been prepared and served, the horses have been fed and harnessed, and all are ready to go to their respective duties, when, lo! the sky becomes dark, ened and in a short time the rain begins to descend upon the parched earth, causing the drooping plants to lift their heads, as it were, and to spread out their leaves that they may be bathed by the gentle rain. All stand wrapped in delight, as they watch the rain which has been needed so long, no one being unwilling to rest from his labor, while the gentle rain descends to replenish the earth with flowers and fruits. Soon the scene changes. The father, ever mindful ofhis duties, bids the sons go to the barn to unharness the horses. When this is done, they are told that they must go to the barn-floor and pre-pare to thresh some rye in order to have some long straw for tying the corn in the autumn. Soon the doors are thrown open and you see the boys sweeping the floor to get ready to place upon it the sheaves of grain ready for the flail. When the sweeping is completed, you see James climb thelad-der and pass into the mow, while Henry remains upon the floor to arrange the sheaves in order, one after the other, until the floor is fairly covered, when James ceases to throw them from the mow and descends to the floor and prepares to begin with the flail. Taking their flails, they step to their places, and at once begin to strike with alternate strokes, creating a great noise so that it is very difficult to be understood in speaking, but doing the work to which they were appointed with apparent ease and skill. They 98 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY labor during the long hours of the day, ceasing only when thefact that it is time to perform the regular evening duties is made known to them. From what I have said, you may infer that the "Country Barn" is, besides being a protection for the animals against the inclem-ency ofthe weather and a storehouse for grain, a kind ofworkshop, where boys are taught to improve their time and not to throw away the golden moments. We shall see that it is something more. While James and Henry are busy at their work, Willie, Ned, and Joe, who are yet too small to bear the greater burdens of life, are rolling over the hay, turning somersault, standing upon their heads, playing "Run and Jump," "Hide and Seek," and indulg-ing in other sports. Seated in the corner of the barn-floor or run-ning to and fro, or lounging in the swing made by Henry, are Jane and Nell, too selfish to engage in sport with the boys, or probably keeping away, pouting on account of some trick which the boys have served them. Thus wesee that the "Country Barn" is a shelter, a storehouse, a workshop, and a playhouse, teaching to us the lesson that the things which exist may be used for different purposes, each pur-pose in its own time, being necessary for full and complete devel-opment and advantageous to all. «f^£> ALL SOULS DAY W. H. B. CARNEY, '99. Arched above, a reefless ocean Gray of clouds; no sunny glow: Leafless trees affect no motion To the biting' winds which blow. Everywhere are solemn faces,— Father, mother, daughter, son; Over all I see the traces Of a sorrow, deep and lone. Towards God's acre slowly walking Where a loved one lies "At Rest"; Thinking all, but none are talking: Sometimes Silence speaks the best. w THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 99 On the arm a wreath of holly With white flowers wove between; But the gnawing melancholy Of the heart cannot be seen. In the churchyard there is weeping Over every ivied mound; Some have infant forms in keeping, Some by sculptor's hand are crowned. On the graves the wreaths are lying, Glistening with blood-warm tears, Tribute of a love undying, Living on through dragging years. In a homestead sits a maiden Sighing o'er a golden band ; For his grave her hands not laden; There's a trench in foreign land. In her dreams a wife is hearing Lashing waves that froth and roar; And she sees a boat that's nearing,— But it never reached the shore. • In the church is told the story How the Christ, in village Nain, Gave a widow cause to glory, Raising up her son again. While the trumpet tones are blowing All the dead in Him shall rise; And the living, those reknowing. Shall meet with them in the skies. Every desert yield the treasured, Every mountain, and the Bea, Thousands in whose deeps unmeasured Toss like leaves upon the lea. Then I see the faint hearts strengthen And the tears are wiped away; For the shadows soon will lengthen, Herald of Eternal Day. —Berlitz School of Languages, Berlin, Germany. 100 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY EXCHANGES TVTE have been pleased to receive more than the usual number " of magazines and journals from different colleges and universities during the past month, many of which visited our desk for the first time. Among these the Red and Blue, because of its neat and attractive appearance, and wealth of both poetry and prose, will always be most heartily welcomed. The Harvard Monthly is unassuming in appearance, and filled with excellent literary productions. The Nassau Literary Magazine and the University of Virginia Magazine are both entertaining as always. In addition to these, many others could be mentioned. It has been interesting to note that nearly all the magazines have given considerable space to poetical selections, and also that the number of really good prose articles is greater than dur-ing the previous month. The Lesbian Herald contains a tender and beautiful poem, "The Trailing Arbutus," whose title was probably suggested by John Burrough's poem on the" same subject. We quote the fol-lowing : " Her presence like glimmering sunshine seemed, And the soft sweet breath of the spring, The blue of her eyes was the blue of the heaven, Her voice had a gladsome ring. " Like the voice of the birds as they sing in the trees, When the sweet April shower is done, Or lift to the heavens their anthems of praise When a glad new day has begun. " But the wind swept by with a wailing moan, And the maiden so wondrous fair Was gone in her glory of summer sheen, But the prints of her feet were there. " You call it the trailing arbutus flower, A sweet breath of spring, you say, But I know the glory which gave it birth In the foot-prints left that day." The author of '' The L,ady of the L,ake '' in The Mountaineer evidently appreciates the vivacity and beauty of one of Scott's grandest productions, and thoroughly enjoys the chivalric spirit manifested by the characters. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 101 In the St. John's Collegian appears an article on " The Bible as a Text-book.'' The importance of this subject cannot be ques-tioned when we think of the efforts which are made to exclude the Bible from the curriculum of our educational institutions, and the author's very thorough discussion has our entire appro-bation . The Juniata Echo is publishing a series of articles on Porto Rico, written by Prof. M. G. Brumbaugh, Ph. D., Commissioner of Instruction in Porto Rico. These articles contain valuable information. The last issue contains an article on Martin Luther, part of which we take the liberty of quoting: " Martin Luther was the example of loyalty, the exponent of freedom, the guiding star of the Reformation, the advocate of the genuine Pauline Doctrine, and the mainstay of Christendom since the Apostles. . ******* " 'Thou, who art so great in whatever aspect we view thee, so worthy of admiration, so deserving of universal gratitude, alike great as a man, a scholar, a citizen, and a Christian', hast so in-spired us with the thought so characteristic of thy life, that he who steers his frail canoe the best, truest and noblest in the ser-vice of himself, his Alma Mater, his nation and his God; steers it longest when he receives his reward." "The Chemist's Guess" in The Free Lance teaches two important lessons—" the result of careless work " and " honesty is the best policy." J-Other exchanges to be acknowledged are: The Dickinson Lit-erary Monthly, The Susquehanna, The College Folio, The Western Ufiiversity Courant, The Catthage Collegian, The Scio Collegian, The Phoenix, The Campus and The Forum. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C. R. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming Fall and Winter season cannot be surpassed lor variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering, repairing, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. In buying don't forget the Advertisers. They support us. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flammelstomn Bromn Stone Gompany Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Telegraph and Express Address. Cut Stone Work. BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. B. For a nice sweet loaf of Bread call on J. RAMER Baker of Bread and Fancy Cakes, GETTYSBURG. PA. EIMER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of Chemicals and Chemical Apparatus 205, 207, 209 and 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Pure Hammered Platinum, Balances and "Weights. Zeiss Mi-croscopes and Bacteriological Apparatus; Chemical Pure Acids and Assay Goods. SCOTT PAPER COMPANY MAKERS OF FINE TOILET PAPER 7th and Greenwood Ave. PHILADELPHIA PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted J6 Kt. Gold Pen, Iridium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. Spiral, Black or Mottled $2 50 Twist, " 2 SO Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 SO Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO. WHITEWATER, WIS. Askjour Stationer or our Agent to show them toyon. Agood local agent wanted in every school No. 1. Chased, long or short $2 00 No. 1. Gold Mounted 3 00 No. 3. Chased 3 00 No. 3. Gold Mounted 4 00 awfwmiffmmmmwiffmiffifmrmiffmmiffifrTffffgg 7k Printing and Binding We Print This Book THE MT. HOEEY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing and Binding-, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing- to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. *SPRINGS, PA. UMkJttiUlUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUiUR H. S. BENNEF?, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc, Tobacco and Cigars. 17 CHAMBERSBURG ST. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. Dinner and ride to all points of interest,including the th ree days' tight, $1.25. No. 127 Main Street. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs and Fine Sta-tionery at the People's Drug Store Prescriptions a Specialty. J. A. TAWNEY_^ Is ready to furnish Clubs and Boarding Houses with Bread, Rolls, Etc. At short notice and reasonable rates. Washington & Middle Sts., Gettysburg. . A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. M. B. BENDER Furniture IRON BEDS, MATTRESSES, SPRINGS Picture Framing" and Repair Work done Promptly 27 BALTIMORE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. .GO TO. fyokl Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON WTJ /~T\P\r\Dl Successor to . r . {JJUKJKl, Simon J.Codori Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. .GO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. * CHAS. S. MUMPER (Formerly of Mumper & Bender) Furniture Having opened a new store opposite W. M. R. R. Depot, will be pleased to have you call and examine goods. Picture Framing promptly attended to. Repair Work a Specialty Students' Trade Solicited FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. Spalding's Official League Ball and Athletic Goods Officially adopted by the lead ing Colleges, Schools and Athletic Clubs of the Country Every Requisite for— BASE BALL FOOT BALL GOLF TENNIS ATHLETICS GYMNASIUM Spalding's Official League Ball Is the Official Ball of the National league, the princi-pal minor leagues and all the leading-college associations Handsome Catalogue of Base Ball and all Athletic Sports Eree to any address Spalding's Offi-cial Base Ball Guide for 1901, edited by Henry Ohadwick, ready March 30,1901. Price 10 cents; A. O. SPALD1NO & BROS., Incorporated NEW YORK CHICAGO DENVER ROWE, Your Grocer Carries Full Line of Groceries, Canned Goods, Etc. Best Coal Oil and Brooms at most Reasonable Prices. OPPOSITE COLLEGE CAMPUS. S. J. CODORI, ^4 Druggists Dealer in Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Articles, J* Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE ST. R. H. CULP PAPER HANGER, Second Square, York Street. COLLEGE EMBLEMS. EMIL ZOTHE, ENGRAVER, DESIGNER AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER, 19 S. NINTH ST. PHILADELPHIA SPECIALTIES: Masonic Marks, Society Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All Goods ordered tltrough A. N. Beau. To Repair Broken Arti-cles use Remember MAJOR'S RUBBER CEMENT, MAJOR'S LEATHER CEMENT, Meneely Bell Co. TROY, N. Y. MANUFACTURERS OF SUPERIOR BELLS The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania Col-lege was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Pleased Customer Is not a stranger in our establish-ment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor 39 Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. Try My Choice lane of ,\ High-Grade Chocolates 3 'at 40c per lb. Always fresh, at ,£ CHAS. H. McCLEARY J Carlisle St., Opposite W.M.R.R. jj Also Foreign and Domestic Fruits A i Always on Hand. B,C L. D. Miller, GROCER Confectioner and Fruiterer. Ice Cream and Oysters in Season. 19 Main St. GETTYSBURG City Hotel, Main St. Gettysburg. Free 'Bus to and from all Trains Thirty seconds' walk from either depot Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35 Rates $1.50 to $2.00 per day John E. Hughes, Prop. 1 k Capitol Cit£ Cafe Cor. Fourth and Market Sts. HARRISBURG, PA. Pirst-Class Rooms Furnished. Special Rates to Private Parties. Open Day and Nig-ht. European Plan. Lunch of All Kinds to Order at the Restaurant. ALDINQER'S CAPITOL CITY CAFE. POPULAR PRICES F. Mark Bream, Dealer in Fancy and Staple Groceries Telephone 29 Carlisl e St., GETTYSBURG, PA. .Photographer. No. 3 Main St., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. Our new effects in Portraiture are equal to photos made anywhere, and at any price. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS Wright, 140-142 Woodward Avenue DETROIT, MICH. Manufacturers of High Grade Fraternity Emblems Fraternity Jewelry Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationery Fraternity Invitations Fraternity Announcements Fraternity Programs Send for Catalogue and Price List. Special Designs on Application. MOTEL GETTYSBURG LIVERY GETTYSBURG, PA. LONG & HOLTZWORTM, Proprietors Apply at Office in the Hotel for First-Class Guides and Teams THE BATTLEFIELD A SPECIALTY Uhe JSolton Market Square •fcartfeburg, fl>a. Earge and Convenient Sample Rooms. Passenger and Baggage Elevator. Electric Cars to and from Depot. Electric Eight and Steam Heat. J. M. & M. S. BUTTERWORTH, Proprietors Special Rates for Commer-cial Men "EZ 1ST IMMER CUT ET WAS ZU WISSEIN." These are the words of Goethe, the great German poet, and are as true in our day as when uttered. In these times of defective vision it is good to know something about eyes. A great deal has been learned about the value of glasses and their application since Goethe lived. Spectacle wearers have increased by thousands, while at the same time, persons losing their eyesight have been greatly diminished. If your eyes trouble you in any way let me tell you the cause. Examination free and prices reasonable. We grind all our own lenses and fit the best lenses (no matter what anyone else has charged you) for $2.50 per pair and as cheap as SO cents per pair, or duplicate a broken lens if we have one-half or more of the old one, at a reasonable charge, returning same day received. .E. L EGOLE. 807 and 809 North Third Street, HARRISBURG, PA. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. ^entpol Jlotel, ELIAS FISSEL, Prop. (Formerly of Globe Hotel) Baltimore Street, Gettysburg, Pa. Two doors from Court House. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Steam Heat, Electric Inght and Call Bells all through the House. Closets aud Bath Rooms on Every Floor. Sefton & Flem-minfr's Livery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges Moderate, Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rates $1.30 Per Day. GET A SKATE ON And send all your Soiled Einen to the Gettysburg Steam Laundry R. R. LONG, Prop. Horace Partridge & Co., BOSTON, MASS. Fine Athletic Goods Headquarters for Foot Ball, Gym-nasium, Fencing' and Track Supplies. Send for Illustrated Catalog. 84 and 86 Franklin Street R. W. LENKER, Agent at Penna. College. JOHN M. MINNIGH, Confectionery, lee, ■•««>Iee Creams Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. The Leading garber v5f)op (Successor to C. C. Sefton) Having thoroughly remodeled the place is now ready to accommodate the public Barber Supplies a Specialty. .Baltimore Street. Grymi5£im(i, PA. ESTABLISHED 1876 PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, Col-lege Souvenir Spoons. NO. 10 BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PENNA. L. i\. kiimm Manufacturers' Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Queensware. GETTYSBURG, PA. The Only Jobbing House in Adams County. i I - >- L PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. For Fine- Printing go to Tte Jo Co Wile Pnviqjg HOOK CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. R. M. Elliott Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGARS. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Chambersburg St., Gettysburg Leadership IN THE CLOTHING and MEN'S EURNISHING Business It is strictly here—everybody knows it. Testimony ? The stock itself. The pen suffi-ciently nimble to tell all the good points of our ::::::: PALL AND WINTER. SUITS AND OVERCOATS has not been found. We will keep you dressed right up-to-date if you buy your Clothing and Furnishings here. : : : : STIINE McPherson Block- No. II BALTIMORE STREET <5ett\?stmret pa. /iDerville E. Zinn, proprietor The Leading Hotel Rates $2.00 per Day Long & Holtzworth Livery Attached Cuisine and Service First-Class We furnish The swellest Furnishings for Collegians in America. Ties, Hosiery, Gloves, Underwear, Sweaters, Hats, Caps. PRICES EXTREMELY REASONABLE. Joseph Auerbach, 623 Penna. Ave., Washington, D. C

Issue 31.1 of the Review for Religious, 1972. ; ASSOCIATE EDI'I.'O R Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS ANI) ANS\VERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editor, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Build-ins; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ccclcsiastical approval by faculty mcnlbers of tile School of Divinity of St. Louis UniversJly. the edilorhll otfices beii~g located at 612 Ilumboldt Bnilding~ 539 North (.;rand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned b.v the Missouri Province Educational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1972 by REVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. l.ouis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years: other counlries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for Ilew or renewal subscriptions and should bc accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. cur-rency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent I~EVIEW I:OR ~ELIGIOUS. Clmnge of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent I)ululh, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editori-al correspondence, and books for review ~bould bc scat 1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: 612 [lumboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boule-yard; SI. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to tile address of tile Questions and Ans\vcrs editor. JANUARY 1972 VOLUME 31 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Volume 31l 1972 EDITORIAL OFFICE 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE P.O. Box 1110 Dululh, Minnesota 55802 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, Published in January, March, May, July, September, No-vember on the fifteenth of the month. Review for Religious is indexed in the Catholic Periodi-cal Index and in Book Review Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Micro-films; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. HELEN CONDON, R.S.C.J. The Prayer Question [Helen Condon, R.S.C.J., is a member of the administrative team of the International Union of Superiors General; Piazza di Ponte S. Angelo, 28; 00186 Rome, Italy.] One sign that religious men and women are experiencing renewal and not just making adaptations is the surfacing of a deep current, the desire for prayer. Within the past two or three years there has been a stronger interest in prayer, in new forms and approaches, in books by Lutheran, Anglican, and Orthodox mystics and in Eastern spiritualities. That this interest is more than academic is evident from the efforts being made to experience prayer -the workshops and live-in institutes, directed retreats, the spreading house of prayer movement, the contacts being sought with various masters of contemplation. The Spirit breathing through the Second Vatican Council is surely responsible for this direction of renewal. One strong influence has been the Biblical renaissance of our time, affecting both communal and personal prayer. Among young religious in particular there is often a truly Scripture-centered praying. Another impetus has come from the new freedom given by the chapter decrees of numerous apostolic congregations, doing away with outmoded and excessive devotions and offering wide latitude for individual needs and attractions. What is this contemplative prayer? However we may try to analyze or describe it, in the end it is perhaps least badly expressed as an experience of God. Desire for this experience goes far beyond religious and Christian life, for the same dynamism is active in contemporary society. A'quest for religious experience is a marked characteristic of the counter-culture, however misdirected it may become in esoteric dilettantism and drug addiction. In many places criticism of religious institutions is strongest among those who sense what religion should be. Celebration of the death of God is not an attack on Him but in our misrepresentations, and it can lead to a search for Him. The awareness of God's absence and the widespread crisis of faith and hope may well be social phenomena akin to the mystical dark night. Is it surprising that religious men and women may be similarly affected? Our problems are often the same problems that others have. Realization of this fact can lead to meaningful solidarity with them. It can also be a tremendous apostolic challenge. In this context we come to understand that, although prayer as a human experience has certain constants through the centuries, it must also be real today. Action and contemplation are not antithetical, any more than are body and soul or other so-called dichotomies. All the condemnation of old attitudes and structures that enforced parallel lives of individualistic prayer and work and even the recent criticism of mere horizontalism are now subsiding. What is left is at bedrock level, a hunger and thirst for the living God. The modalities of this experience are many, defying definition and classification. Age-old awarenesses still hold - man's sense of the wholly Other, man's need for a human God - but these are intensified and Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 re-expressed in our heightened consciousness of present realities. Prayer is experience of God's dynamic presence; it is also search for this God. Sometimes it is experience of His absence. Prayer is awareness of His saving action in the world, challenging our integral response. Prayer can be both cause and effect of serving the real needs of men. Yet, without denying the present thrust toward prayer, a crucial question is justified: given the present conditions and circumstances, can many religious men and women engaged in active apostolates really have contemplative prayer? Never have pressures been greater than they are today in Catholic education, the area in which most religious devote themselves. The burden of the future weighs heavily on teachers and administrators: how to assess apostolic need and effective response; how to become more involved in the wider community; how to achieve academic excellence and, of course; how to make ends meet while increasing faculty salaries and benefits, improving instructional programs, and extending scholarships; whether to keep open or to close a school or college. Shortage of personnel presents critical financial problems and sometimes affects morale, especially if teaching sisters, brothers, and priests interpret the questioning of schools and universities and the undertaking of new apostolates by members of their congregations as a lack of support and confidence. Added to all these circumstances is another factor, the grave problems of high school and college students which have also spiraled within a few years and which cry out for help, time, and emotional expenditure on the part of those who teach and guide them. In view of all these pressures - and similar pressures in other kinds of apostolic work - some religious men and women are driven to settle for very little prayer. In addition, the changes within religious life have had an effect - more direct responsibility for one's own "prayer life," greater personal freedom, a wider variety of leisure activities. No longer does a rule or superior "safeguard" times of prayer. Self-discipline is rightly intended to replace other structures, but this kind of self-discipline is not easy, even after years of fidelity to meditation. Other changes have caused malaise and polarization within congregations and local communities. After hectic days in the classroom or office, religious men and women sometimes come home to tensions that are even more difficult to bear. Then there are the heaviest pressures of all, questions that are being asked not just in theological speculation but in personal anguish: ls religious life itself a valid and viable way any more? What meaning has permanent commitment? Is such commitment possible? What really is a relationship with God? Is there such a thing as being "called"? Who is Christ? Where is He? What is the Church? It is not surprising that some find prayer very difficult or meaningless. If it is true that the Holy Spirit is seeking to pray more within us and among us, how can we help one another respond, in spite and because of the problems that burden us? Some of these problems are outside us and some are within. Basic to any effort is a view of religious life itself. It is more and other than professional service, however sympathetic and unselfish. Religious life is a way of realizing the baptismal commitment. It is a faith relationship with the Lord lived out in apostolic community. It is a shared experience of Jesus Christ. A religious congregation is a community of persons committed to, an evangelical life and mission, which is the saving work of Christ among people today. Some such vision reflecting the charism and spirit of the founder is at the head of the book of new decrees or interim documents of ourcongregations. Ultimately this vision is a conviction of faith, with an overriding logic of its own. And this Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 conviction must become the point of reference and basic principle determining our priorities and policies. As a matter of fact, many congregations are acting according to their vision and basic principle in making courageous decisions about reorganizing institutional apostolates and opening up new forms of evangelical service and ministry. Convictions about the individual's'needs and apostolic call are leading to new types of community life and more diversified professional training. The experiments in initial formation and the move toward continuing education and retirement programs result from a realistic application of fundamental aims. Yet are we equally realistic in implementing the prayer-imperative intrinsic to our vision and faith conviction? If in actuality many or even some apostolic religious are so overburdened and pressured that prayer becomes impossible, then priorities demand an honest facing of the problem by everyone concerned. This confronta-tion is the responsibility of a whole congregation or an entire province as well as those in authority, since we now participate in some way in our own government. We have been willing to cut back on institutional commitments because of new apostolic demands, because of the need for further professional preparation, the shortage of personnel and finances. Are we willing to make similar decisions to help one another grow in the faith relationship with God, live the apostolic religious life more humanly and freely? This is not a pious ideal but a pragmatic conclusion. Apostolate is bigger than work, as the person is more than a function. People have to be given time and psychic space to breathe and be. Practically speaking, we need to provide more help for overworked administrators, to lighten class loads of teachers whose day also includes hours of informal counseling or evening activities in the parish. And speaking just as practically, we must begin to give time-off to individuals - spiritual sabbaticals - not just time to acquire a degree in theology, but time and help to seek the living God. Summer renewals of a month or so are helpful. Yet what seems to be needed is a prolonged period, a semester or more, with courses in Scripture and theology and other disciplines integrated into a community experience, and the opportunity for real spiritual direction. The ARC program held in Rome during 1970-71 offered such an experience and might serve as one model for similar ventures elsewhere.1 This kind of spiritual sabbatical might well give the distancing that some seem able to find only in a leave of absence. For most others it would be a time of growth and re-integration after years of self-expenditure. Congregations - which is to say, we - owe their members continuing spiritual help and most especially help in praying - not just talks on prayer, though these can be valuable, but personal guidance and circumstances that favor growth. Good directors are hard to come by; this field of ministry is crying out for sisters and brothers as well as priests. We need prayerful men and women with learning, experience, and sensitivity to the contemporary, who can enlighten and encourage others, enabling them to discern God's leading and to go forward in faith. Besides the congregation, local communities are "responsible" for the quality of 1 ARC - Apostolate of Religious Community - was a program first offered for religious women in 1970-1971 in Rome. Courses in Scripture and theology were taught in English by such persons as Barnabas Ahem, Luis Alonso Sch6kel, Robert L. Faricy, Paul Kennedy, Edward Malatesta, Juan Mateos, Paul Molinari, David M. Stanley, and James Walsh. The 28 participants of varying ages belonged to 17 congregations. They developed their own community life, integrating course content, and communal prayer.'The ARC program,is being repeated during 1971-1972. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 prayer of their members. It is in the living situation that a person's overwork and exhaustion will become most evident. If a community is really a home, then already other pressures lessen and we get strength from one another. If it is not home, a person may tend to withdraw, to center his life outside, to work compulsively. Even if an individual will not or cannot work out of his overextension, his friends can help, like the four men in the gospel~ by laying him at Christ's feet in their own prayer. Since we have chosen to live out our commitment in community, community becomes the context of our discovery of Christ, as it was for His Apostles. As they supported Thomas, we can sustain the faith of one another. Our faith is in need of such help. Perhaps more of us than we could ever guess are going through the same kind of thing - asking ourselves who Christ is and where He is, what our own lives mean and how we can live them today. Another's questioning and searching can help us immeasurably more than facile theoretic solutions. Some are doubting if there is such a thing as a personal call by God. Ultimately the only answer is people's experience. In the long story of salvation history some individuals have known a personal call, and in the more tangible present of our own communities others may be able to share their own moment of meeting with the Lord. Perhaps we can dare to walk in the strength of another's vision, or he in ours, or the hidden Christ may join the two of us as we speak of no longer finding Him. The prayer of the Christian community has special efficacy because the Lord has promised His presence there. Whatever form communal prayer may take, it must make room for this presence, with all its implications of conversion and forgiveness. Through the centuries religious men and women have edified each other by their ardor and fidelity. Today, when we are particularly vulnerable to one another, the quality of community life has a tremendous impact. Perhaps more than anything else, the best help to personal prayer is to be with praying people. What about the individual religious who finds prayer impossible or meaningless? When we cannot pray, when we are bogged down, utterly weary, drained, dried up, when we may already also feel guilty, advice is the last thing we want from Job's comforters, perhaps even from our closest friends. But maybe we can quietly recognize that much of our impotence may come from exterior circumstances and our own human condition. The response is what we are capable of at any given moment. Maybe the only response possible is a desperate cry to God for help. And maybe there will be no answer, only silence. If we can remember words about knocking over and over again, we can try to keep on asking, begging especially for faith: Save me, God! The water is already up to my neck! I am sinking in the deepest swamp, there is no foothold; I have stepped into deep water, and the waves are rushing over me, Worn out with calling, my throat is hoarse, my eyes are strained, looking for my God (Ps 69:1-3). God's power that raised Christ from the dead is working in us (Ep 1:19-20). In prayer the initiatives are His: "Is anything too wonderful for Yahweh?" (Gn 18:14). The response we are capable of may mean a courageous honesty, admitting our own carelessness or compromising or sinfulness. It may mean a willingness to take small steps, perhaps just a recognition of the problem of personal prayer, perhaps letting ourselves be helped. At some point priorities can be sorted out. If the problem is overinvolvement, something has ~to give. Nobody but God can be all things to all men. In its acute form this condition is like a heart attack, when a Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 doctor would say to us: "If you want to live, you've got to let up." Now our very life is just as truly at stake. Do we want to live, and live more abundantly? For all of us, moving into this more abundant life means discovering a rhythm and realizing an integration of prayer into our very existence. The Spirit's action leads to life, not frustration. His invitation to apostolic religious must be possible of acceptance. Given the complexities of today, obstacles around us and within us are immense, but with personal and communal effort they must be surmountable. The new decrees of congregations which altered prayer obligations were intended to open do6rs and windows, not create a vacuum. Contemplative prayer does not need to be defended. Time taken for it does not require apologies to anyone. For the problem of prayer will always be partly a question of time because of the human condition. The modes of prayer are multiple and unique: God can and does give Himself anywhere at any moment. To recognize and assimilate this encounter takes reflection, time, some solitude. Prayer is a human experience, caused and conditioned by and inseparable from human living; prayer is also a gift of the immanent and transcendent God. Apostolic religious are praying people who happen to be teachers or adminis-trators or other professionals, not workers who happen to pray. If we mean what we have so often said - that is what we are rather than what we do that matters - then nowhere is this more true than in our being in Christ. The integration of our lives comes about through the quality of our prayer. The deepening desire for prayer is surely a sign and fruit of renewal. And God's gifts are given not just for ourselves but for others, for the building up of Christ's Body. Religious men and women who are praying people can help others to pray, those who are searching for God without knowing Him, those who have lost Him, those who are revolting against the sterile materialism of technocracy. The religious person is also meant to be a prophet, to condemn injustice and hatred and violence by his words and his life, to proclaim the kingdom of justice and love and peace. One who speaks God's message to mefi must all along be a listener: The Lord Yahweh has given ,me a disciple's tongue. So that 1 may know how to reply to the wearied he provides me with speech. Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear (Is 50:4-5). M. BASIL PENNINGTON, 0.C.S.0. Contemplative Community lM. Basil Pennington, O.C.S;O., is a Cistercian monk of St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts O1562.] The Third Cistercian Symposium (August 30 - September 6, 1971) held at the Abbey of Notre Dame du Lac (near Montreal, Canada) brought together some fifty participants from various nations and continents, including such notables as Jean Leclercq, O.S.B., Armand Veilleux, O.C.S.O., Chrysogonus Waddell, O.C,S.O., Valentine Walgrave, O.P., Ghislain Lafont, O.S.B., and many others. The theme of this Third Symposium was "Contemplative Community." Like the previous Cistercian Symposiums, a team of experts, in this case fifteen, were asked to prepare papers which were circulated in advance. Like the Second Symposium this one also was interdisciplinary and included papers from the fields of Sacred Scripture, patristics, monastic spirituality and history, liturgy, theology, sociology, anthropology, and psychology. A paper reflecting the Anglican perspective was also presented. Unlike previous Symposiums the papers were not read at the meeting. All had been asked to study them carefully prior to the meeting. Or/the first day each expert made a very brief presentation and time was allotted for questions. Such a plan was proposed to allow the greatest amount of time possible for discussion in the hopes that the group might in this way penetrate more deeply hato the question. In practice it proved quite successful. The twelve papers presented were: Scripture Monastic Community and the Summary Statements in Acts Francis Martin Monastic Tradition and History The De Instituto Christiano: Reflections on Contemplative Community Sr. Michael Connor, O.C.S.O. St. Bernard of Clairvaux and the Contemplative Community Jean Leclercq, O.S.B. Seeking God in Community according to St. Aelred Charles Dumont, O.C.S.O. Together unto God: Contemplative Community in the Sermons of Guerric of Igny M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. A Challenge for Today: The Problem of the Contemplative Community at the End of the Eighteenth Century Cyprian Davis, O.S.B. Contemplation and Community: An Anglican Perspective Sr. Benedicta Ward, S.L.G. Liturgy Liturgy and Contemplative Community: Random Reflections and Notes for Discussion Chrysogonus Waddell, O.C.S.O. Theology The Theology of Contemplative Community Tarcisius Conner, O.C.S.O. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 Sociology The Theology of Social Dynamics with an Application to Contemplative Life Valentine Walgrave, O.P. Anthropology Contemplative Community David F. K. Steindl-Rast, O.SoB. Psychology Some Psychological Dimensions of the Contemplative Community D. H. Salman, O.P. Experts present who did not present papers were: Armand Veilleux, O.C.S.O., abbot of Mistassini and editor ofLiturgie, Ghislain Lafont, O.S.B., of Pierre-qui-vire andJohn Eudes Bamberger, O.C.S.O., Secretary General of the Cistercian Order, psychiatrist and patristic scholar. In addition to the team of experts there was a good cross section 'among the participants of those concerned with the contemplative community. There were abbots and abbesses, novice masters and novice mistresses, monks, nuns and novices; there were Cistercians, Benedictines, and Dominicans; there were those from experimental communities, secular institutes, and the lay state. With such a large group there was always the danger that the Symposium might evolve into a colloquium. In actual fact 6ne evening session was devoted to sharing the experiences of the various communities represented. However, for the most part, the meeting remained a very serious study, yet one constantly challenged by practical pastoral concern. On the first day after the brief presentations and a question period, the meeting divided into five small groups, three English-speaking and two French. These groups, in the light of the presentations, formulated questions which represented areas of concern: the essential nature of the Christian contemplative community, sharing at the level of contemplative experience, integration of the vertical and horizontal dimensions. Fidelity to the evolving community and entrance into the contemplative community were also to be discui;sed. On the second day discussion was largely restricted to the panel of experts. The Biblical type of the Christian community, especially in the light of the summary statements in Acts (2:42-7, 4:32-5, 5:11-6) was explored. And then the wider human phenomenon was considered. It was felt that the specifically Christian dimension which transfinalized and elevated the human could best be understood if it was seen precisely in this light. Thus the concluding statement first considered the human phenomenon and then the Christian: CHRISTIAN CONTEMPLATIVE COMMUNITY In order to live human life to the full, man must transcend his empirical self and so realize his True Self. This implies an openness to the Transcendent. Attention to his openness for the Transcendent makes man aware of his contemplative dimension. Contemplative life as a form of life expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living mindfulness of the Transcendent. Contemplative community is a gathering of brethren who support one another in contemplative life through a giving and receiving that is at once spontaneous and responsible. For the Christian to live the human life to the full means a dying to selfishness to enter into the life of the risen Christ. This is the conversion that leads to transformation into the New Man and to the realization of the Self as Cosmic Christ. This transfiguration is realized as the Spirit opens us to the revelation of the Father in His Word. Loving awareness./of this revelation in all its dimensions is contemplative prayer. Since Christian contemplative life focuses on the Word, it is a form of life which expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living a listening to God and a living by the Word. Some Christians called to the contemplative life gather in love and experience God by sharing solitude in common life, supporting one another as brothers. In doing so, they mediate to each other the revelation of God and they manifest the mystery of the Church as open to God in prayer. 10 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 The full significance of this statement can this schema: CONTEMPLATIVE HUMAN (1) FULLNESS In order to live human life to the full, man must transcend his empirical self and so realize his True Self. be better perceived if it is considered in COMMUNITY CHRISTIAN OF LIFE For the Christian, to live the human life to the full means a dying to selfishness to enter into the life of the risen Christ. This is the conversion that leads to transformation into the New Man and to the realization of the Self as Cosmic Christ. This implies cendent. (2) OPENNESS TO THE TRANSCENDENT an openness to the Trans- This transfiguration is realized as the Spirit opens us to the revelation of the Father in His Word. (3) CONTEMPLATIVE DIMENSION Attention to his openness for the Trans- Loving awareness to this revelation in all its cendent makes man aware of his contempla- dimensions is contemplative prayer. tire dimension. (4) CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE Contemplative life as a form of life ex- Since Christian contemplative life focuses presses and fosters in every detail of daily on the Word (Logos), it is a form of life living mindfulness of the Transcendent. which expresses and fosters in every detail of daily living a listening to God and a living by the Word. (5) CONTEMPLATIVE COMMUNITY Contemplative community is a gathering of brethren who support one another in con-templative life through a giving and receiv-ing that is at once spontaneous and respon-sible. Some Christians called to the contemplative life gather in love and experience God by sharing solitude in common life, supporting one another as brothers. In doing so, they mediate to each other the revelation of God and they manifest the mystery of the Church as open to God in prayer. This extremely rich statement summarizes a great deal of discussion and shared insight, the fruit of the labor of the experts working in panels, small group discussions, general sessions, and long night sessibns of the conclusion committee with various experts. Pages and even volumes could be written on it. The committee did offer a brief explanation or development of some of its aspects but these themselves open the way to further areas of exploration and reflection: Fullness of Life The empirical self is the self experienced as acting, reasoning, managing, controlling; not only the self as egotistical or selfish. To mistake this functional self for one's True Self is an illusion. To h~eak out of this illusion means to realize life in fullness. (We are using "tea|ize" throughout in its double sense of becoming aware and making real.) The realization of this universal Self constitutes the ultimate achievement in various spiritual traditions. In Christian tradition this breakthrough into fullness of life is our entering into the Paschal Mystery. What it means to enter into the Cosmic Christ becomes clear when we take seriously St. Paul's "I live now no longer I but Christ lives in me," and keep in mind that this is the Christ in whom, through whom, for whom all things have been created - the Cosmic Christ of Col 1 : 12-20, "Christ is the visible likeness of the invisible God. He is the firstborn Son superior to every creature, for by him God created everything . and through the Son God decided to bring the whole universe back to himself." Tradition expresses this mystery in the language of image and likeness with reference to Genesis 1:36. Community plays an essential role throughout the process in which the image is restored to its likeness (cf. Eph 1:23). Openness to the Transcendent It should be noted that we are dealing with a process, a path. Traditionally this path has been Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 11 seen as leading from knowledge of self which is humility, through knowledge of others which is compassion, to knowledge of God which is contemplation. This process cuhninates in that purity of heart which is man's transparehcy.to the deifying light, of which St. Benedict speaks, and this is true transfiguration. Contemplative Dimension The contemplative attitude is a matter of love, a matter of an intense continuous desire for God. When we speak about contemplative prayer we mean prayerfulness, not only prayers. The man of prayers strives to "pray without ceasing." In arriving at this, the "intention," that dynamic directiveness toward God explicated in a loving attitude of listening, draws the whole heart after it as the needle draws the thread. We refer to all the dimensions of re~,elation because revelation of the Triune God is in itself as it were three-dimensional. God reveals hiinself to us through his Son, the Word, through whom he created and saved everything (Heb 1:3). Thus God speaks to us through all things. We may call this the theophanic dimension of revelation. But it is only in the Spirit that we can understand God's Word, because "the things of God no one knows but the Spirit of God. Now we have received., the Spirit of God that we may know the things that have been given by God" (1 Cor 2:10-12). We may call this the pneumatic dimension. Even this revelation leaves intact the mystery of God the Father who "dwells in light inaccessible, whom no man sees or can see" (1 Tim 6:16). We may call this the apophatic dimension. Contemplative Life When we say that Christian contemplative life "focuses on the Word" we mean that it is through the Word that we come to know the Father in the Spirit. This is why Christian contemplative practice strives for an ever greater sensitivity to the Word (Ausculta) and, through the Word, to God. The clause "expresses and fosters in everyday living," refers to asceticism as practiced in monastic communities. In Cistercian monasteries, for instance, this is done by a deep commitment to the Rule of St. Benedict as interpreted by the living Cistercian tradition. Contemplative Community All Christian life includes an element of contemplation, and all Christian life implies communion. Some Christians, however, live a community life specifically dedicated to contemplative prayer. Their goal is to realize kohtonia in its full Biblical sense: personal communion with the living God and sharing in communion with brothers (cf. 1 Jn 1:3). This is contemplative community, one way of realizing concretely the mystery of the Church. We are poor men, sinners, needing help, not only God's but one another's. For this reason also we need to share a common commitment within a common life. Deep inner sharing of purpose has brought us to a community where, by mutual love and concern, respect and correction, we search, we grow, we experience God. ("Experience" here is not limited to its merely psychological sense but means a deep personal encounter with God in faith.) We support one another in this experience by praising God together, reflecting and learning, living and suffering together to be reborn together. And yet in this life together each brother is the guardian of the other's solitude, protecting it both against infringement and against deteriora-tion into loneliness. Some people need more solitude and others need more togetherness. This implies a true pluralism among communities and in community. The practical question which had inaugurated the Third Symposium had been formulated thus: To see more clearly the problems inherent in the life-situation when men freely gather together and commit themselves to live together in a Christian community for the precise purpose of obtaining for each one the maximal freedom to respond to God in prayer and contemplation (and) of fostering each one's growth in this (and) to seek out, as best we can, genui~tely practical responses to these problems. 12 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 In more concrete terms: I am a Cistercian. 1 live in community. 1 am trying to be a man of prayer. I want to be fully responsive to my community, each man in it and the community as a whole. At the same time 1 want to live an intense prayer life and attain to the deepest possible union with God and experience of Him. In view of this twofold concern what are the difficulties and tensions i am running into and how practically can we best resolve them? Its answer is found in two related insights: an understanding of what might be called incarnational;contemplative prayer, and of unity in pluralism. As the statement above brings out, contemplative prayer, the contemplative attitude, lies in openness to God, responsiveness to God, God who has revealed Himself to us. We know that this God, our God - indeed the only God - is always beyond all His revelations and manifestations; yet He is known and contacted in and through them. His revelation of Himself is to be found not only in the Sacred Books or in the depths of one's own soul, but in all creation, His work which He ever keeps in being, sharing His being, and above all, in the creature He made to His own image and likeness: man. If one approaches creation and especially his fellow man with the Christian contemplative attitude, then this is contemplative prayer. He contacts God and responds to Him as He is revealing Himself. But a man can not do this unless he does have in his life, besides times of communion with creation and with his brethren, periods of silence and solitude wherein he can become aware of his own contemplative dimension and learn to live and respond at this level. Thus it is necessary for the contemplative community to structure itself to some extent at least so that each member can be assured of the time and leisure (which is something more than just time) he needs for this. The other practices of the traditional Christian ascesis are also presupposed. Even when the legitimacy of the incarnational approach to contemplative living is fully established, it remains that this is not the primary attraction or call of all contemplatives. And thus it does not provide the only or wholly adequate answer to our question. There must be within the contemplative community a healthy pluralism which responds to the members' diverse ways of perceiving God and consequently their diverse ways of seeking Him. The official report of the Symposium summed up the conclusions of the Symposium on this point in this way: Unity and Pluralism The contemplative community finds its unity in its common basic orientation toward listening to God and living by the Word. It experiences this unity insofar as the members are able to communicate to one another that they do share this common orientation. Some of the ways in which this is done are through common prayer, praise and Eucharist, through sharing a common spirituality, through accepting the common leadership of an abbot, through example, through participation in common exercises, mutual service and community support, through the charity of fraternal correction, through a common sharing of the responsibility to work toward unity, and through interpersonal encounter in which the brethren share deeply what God is accomplishing in their lives. Their very oneness in Christ makes them essentially sharers. There can be true pluralism only insofar as there is true unity in this basic orientation because pluralism is the expression and realization of the same ideals or orientation in different ways. Psychologically a community can peacefully accept pluralism and not experience it as threatening to its unity if there is among the brethren sufficient knowledge of each other's sharing in the common goal to allow each to have confidence that his brothers are with him in this. Within the ambiance of this common basic orientation each one, according to his own proper attraction, will seek God in different ways placing more emphasis on one approach or another. Some will more readily seek and find him in the depths of their own being, others in their brothers, in creation, in all the details of everyday life. The former will mediate God to their brothers more by example or "image," the others more by "word," interpersonal relations and shared activities. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 13 Within a truly united community there can be a very extensive spectrum of diversity, a very rich pluralism. Such pluralism manifests the great vitality of a united community. Guidelines as norms which set certain limits to pluralism can help a community to be faithful to its basic orientation and invite it to a deeper awareness of it. But ideally such guidelines should merely reflect values which are personally possessed and cherished by all the members of the community. Finally the report of the meeting added a few brief considerations on the present situation vis-,~-vis the contemplative community: Dynamism of the Present Situation Contemplative life today is an adventure, a risk demanding acceptance in faith of difficult situations, a realistic living of the Mystery of Christ, all the while open to the Spirit so that he may move us. In our present situation it is necessary not only to be aware of our past but also of a future that is unfolding with ever greater rapidity. To be a member of a contemplative community is to accept and embrace with joy the death and rebirth into new life that continually mark a vital community life. Love has to express itself in patience, trust and hope in the face of insecurity in the situations that we encounter today. In periods of transition we experience a certain polarization. In the midst of this we can find u~nity in working together toward a fuller unity to be achieved in the future. There is a new form of asceticism in accepting change in a spirit of detachment and in not forcing change on others. Some unusual situations can demand decisions. In regard to fidelity to one's community, only when it becomes clear that the community's evolving orientation blocks the realization of an essential dimension of one's response to God should a person consider separating himself. Honest recognition of community problems is a first step toward building the future. In formulating solutions the community, head and members, listen to one another, always keeping their basic values and orientations in view. We have to love one another. We need to be healed. There is much pain in the perfecting of a contemplative community but this very pain can be the means of bringing forth life and growth. We live in a new age and must find new solutions for problems, some old and some never before encountered. All who took part in the Symposium felt it was a very enriching experience. A report can hardly do justice to the immense wealth brought to the discussions by the large and most capable panel of experts. But perhaps far more important was the strengthening witness shared by all there, a witness given not only by the participants, one to another, but that of the wonderful contemplative community which hosted the meeting. The large and flourishing community of Notre Dame du Lac with its most generous and open hospitality, its vital celebration of the daily liturgy, and its very evident commitment to contemplative living provided the most ideal context for a symposium on contemplative community. The papers and conclusions of the Third Cistercian Symposium will be published shortly by Cistercian Publications in Volume Twenty-one of the "Cistercian Studies Series": Contemplative Community: A n Interdisciplinary Symposium. GEORGE A. ASCHENBRENNER, S.J. Consciousness Examen [George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J.,is the director of novices in the Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus; Novitiate of St. Isaac Jogues; Wernersville, Pennsylvania 19565.] Examen is usually the first practice to disappear from the daily life of the religious. This occurs for many reasons; but all the reasons amount to the admission (rarely explicit) that it is not of immediate practical value in a busy day. My point in this article is that all these reasons and their false conclusion spring from a basic misunderstanding of the examen as practiced in religious life. Examen must be seen in relationship to discernment of spirits. It is a daily intensive exercise of discernment in a person's life. Examen of Consciousness For many youth today life is spontaneity if anything. If spontaneity is crushed or aborted, then life itself is stillborn. In this view examen is living life once removed from the spontaneity of life. It is a reflective, dehydrated approach which dries all the spontaneity out of life. These people today disagree with Socrates' claim that the unexamined life is not worth living. For these people the Spirit is in the spontaneous and so anything that militates against spontaneity is un-Spirit-ual. This view overlooks the fact that welling up in the consciousness and experience of each of us are two spontaneities, one good and for God, another evil and not for God. These two types of spontaneous urges and movements happen to all of us. So often the quick-witted, loose-tongued person who can be so entertaining and the center of attention and who is always characterized as being so spontaneous is not certainly being moved by and giving expression to the good spontaneity. For one eager to love God with his or her whole being, the challenge is not simply to let the spontaneous happen but rather to be able to sift'out these various spontaneous urges and give full existential ratification to those spontaneous feelings that are from and for God. We do this by allowing the truly Spirited-spontaneity to happen in our daily lives. But we must learn the feel of this true Spirited-spontaneity. Examen has a very central role in this learning. When examen is related to discernment, it becomes examen of consciousness rather than of conscience. Examen of conscience has narrow moralistic overtones. Though we were always told that examen of conscience in religious life was not the same as a preparation for confession, it was actually explained and treated as though it were much the same. The prime concern was with what good or bad actions we had done each day. In discernment the prime concern is not with the morality of good or bad actions; rather the concern is how the Lord is affecting and moving us (often quite spontaneously!) deep in our own affective consciousness. What is happening in our consciousness is prior to and more important than our actions which can be delineated as ju~'idically good or evil. How we are experiencing the "drawing" of the Father (Jn 6:44) in our own existential consciousness and how our sinful nature is quietly tempting us and luring us away from our Father in Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 15 subtle dispositions of our consciousness - this is what the daily examen is concerned with prior to a concern for our response in our actions. So it is examen of consciousness that we are concerned with here, so that we can cooperate with and let happen that beautiful, spontaneity in Our hearts which is the touch of our Father and the urging of the Spirit. Examen and Religious Identity The examen we are talking about here is not a Ben Franklin-like striving for self-perfection. We are talking about an experience in faith of growing sensitivity to the unique, intimately special ways that the Lord's Spirit has of approaching and calling us. Obviously it takes time for this growth. But in this sense examen is a daily renewal and growth in our religious identity - this unique flesh-spirit person being loved by God and called by Him deep in his personal affective world. It is not possible for me to make an examen without confronting my own identity in Christ before the Father - my own religious identity as poor, celibate, and obedient in imitation of Christ as experienced in the charism of my religious vocation. And yet so often our daily examen becomes so general and vague and unspecific that our religious identity (Jesuit, Dominican, Franciscan, and so forth) does not seem to make any difference. Examen assumes real value when it becomes a daily experience of confrontation and renewal of our unique religious identity and how the Lord is subtly inviting us to deepen and develop this identity. We should make examen each time with as precise a grasp as we have now on our religious identity. We do not make it just as any Christian but as this specific Christian person with a unique vocation and grace in faith. Examen and Prayer The examen is a time of prayer. The dangers of an empty self-reflection or an unhealthy self-centered introspection are very real. On the other hand, a lack of effort at examen and the approach of living according to what comes naturally keeps us quite superficial and insensitive to the subtle and profound ways of the Lord deep in our hearts. The prayerful quality and effectiveness of the examen itself depends upon its relationship to the continuing contemplative prayer of the person. Without this relationship examen slips to the level of self-reflection for self-perfection, if it perdures at all. In daily contemplative prayer the Father reveals to us at His own pace the order of the mystery of all reality in Christ - as Paul says to the Colossians: ". those to whom God has planned to give a vision of the full wonder and splendor of his secret plan for the nations" (Col 1:27). The contemplator experiences in many subtle, chiefly non-verbal, ways this revelation of the Father in Christ. The presence of the Spirit of the risen Jesus in the heart of the believer makes it possible to sense and "hear" this invitation (challenge!) to order ourselves to this revelation. Contempla-tion is empty without this "ordering" response. This kind of reverent, docile (the "obedience of faith" Paul speaks of in Rom 16:26), and non-moralistic ordering is the work of the daily examen - to sense and recognize those interior invitations of the Lord that guide and deepen this ordering from day to day and not to cooperate with those subtle insinuations opposed to that ordering. Without that contemplative contact with the Father's revelation of reality in Christ, both in formal prayer and informal prayerfulness, the daily practice of examen becomes empty; it shrivels up and dies. Without this "listening" to the Father's revelation of His ways which are so different from our own (Is 55:8-9), examen again becomes that shaping up of ourselves which is 16 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 human and natural self-perfection or, even worse, it can become that selfish ordering of ourselves to our own ways. Examen without regular contemplation is futile. A failure at regular contempla-tion emaciates the beautifully rich experience of response-ible ordering which the contemplative is continually invited to by the Lord. It is true, on the other hand, that contemplation without regular examen becomes compartmentalized and superficial and stunted in a person's life. The time of formal prayer can become a very sacrosanct period in a person's day but so isolated from the rest of his life that he is not prayerful (finding God in all things) at that level where he really lives. The examen gives our daily contemplative experience of God real bite into all our daily living; it is an important means to finding God in everything and not just in the time of formal prayer, as we will explain at the end of this article. ADiscerning Vision of Heart When we first learned about the examen in religious life, it was a specific exercise of prayer for about a quarter of an hour. And at first it seemed quite stylized and almost artificial. This problem was not in the examen-prayer but in ourselves; we were beginners and had not yet worked out that integration in ourselves of a process of personal discernment to be expressed in daily examens. For the beginner, before he has achieved much of a personalized integration, an exercise or process can be very valuable and yet seem formal and stylized. This should not put us off. It will be the inevitable experience in religious life for the novice and for the "oldtimer" who is beginning again at examen. But examen will fundamentally be misunderstood if the goal of this exercise is not grasped. The specific exercise of examen is ultimately aimed at developing a heart with a discerning vision to be active not only for one or two quarter-hour periods in a day but continually. This is a gift from the Lord -- a most important one as Solomon realized (1 Kings 3:9-12). So we must constantly pray for this gift, but we must also be receptive to its development within our hearts. A daily practice of examen is essential to this development. Hence the five steps of the exercise of examen as presented in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola (# 43) are to be seen, and gradually experienced in faith, as dimensions of the Christian consciousness, formed by God and His work in the heart as it confronts and grows within this world and all of reality. If we allow the Father gradually to transform our mind and heart into that of His Son, to become truly Christian, through our living experience in this world, then the examen, with its separate elements now seen as integrated dimensions of our own consciousness looking out on the world, is much more organic to our outlook and will seem much less contrived. So there is no ideal time allocation for the five elements of the examen each time but rather a daily organic expression of the spiritual mood of the heart. At one time we are drawn to one element longer than the others and at another time to another element over the others. The mature Ignatius near the end of his life was always examining every movement and inclination of his heart which means he was discerning the congruence of everything with his true Christ-centered self. This was the overflow of those regular intensive prayer-exercises of examen every day. The novice or "oldtimer" must be aware both of the point of the one or two quarter-hour exercises of examen each day, namely, a continually discerning heart, and of the necessary gradual adaptation of his practice of examen to his stage of development and the situation in the world in which he finds himself. And yet we are all aware Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 17 of the subtle rationalization of giving up formal examen each day because we have "arrived at" that continually discerning heart. This kind of rationalization will prevent further growth in faith sensitivity to the Spirit and His ways in our daily lives. Let us now take a look at the format of the examen as presented by St. Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises, #43 but in light of these previous comments on examen as discerning consciousness within the world. Prayer for Enlightenment In the Exercises Ignatius has an act of thanksgiving as the first part of the examen. The first two parts could be interchanged without too much difference. In fact, I would suggest the prayer for enlightenment as a fitting introduction to the examen. The examen is not simply a matter of a person's natural power of memory and analysis going back over a part of the day. It is a matter of Spirit-guided insight into my life and courageously responsive sensitivity to God's call in my heart. What we are seeking here is that gradually growing appreciative insight into the mystery which I am. Without the Father's revealing grace this kind of insight is not possible. The Christian must be careful not to get locked into the world of his own human natural powers. Our technological world can pose as a special danger in this regard. Founded on a deep appreciation of the humanly interpersonal, the Christian in faith transcends the boundaries of the here-and-now with its limited natural causality and discovers a Father who loves and works in and through and beyond all., For this reason we begin the examen with an explicit petition for that enlightenment which will occur in and through our own powers but which our own natural powers could never be capable of all by themselves. That the Spirit may help me to see myself a bit more as He sees me Himself! Reflective Thanksgiving The stance of a Christian in the midst of the world is that of a poor person, possessing nothing, not even himself, and yet being gifted at every instant in and through everything. When we become too affluently involved with ourselves and deny our inherent poverty, then we lose the gifts and either begin to make demands for what we think we deserve (often leading to angry frustration) or we blandly take for granted all that comes our way. Only the truly poor person can appreciate the slightest gift and feel genuine gratitude. The more deeply we live in faith the poorer we are and the more gifted; life itself becomes humble, joyful thanksgiving. This should gradually become an element of our abiding consciousness. After the introductory prayer for enlightenment our hearts should rest in genuine faith-filled gratitude to our Father for His gifts in this most recent part of the day. Perhaps in the spontaneity of the happening we were not aware of the gift and now in this exercise of reflective prayer we see the events in a very different perspective. Our sudden gratitude - now the act of a humble selfless pauper - helps make us ready to discover the gift more clearly in a future sudden spontaneity. Our gratitude should center on the concrete, uniquely personal gifts that each of us was blessed with, whether large and obviously important or tiny and apparently insignificant. There is much in our lives that we take for granted; gradually He will lead us to a deep realization that all isgift. It is right to give Him praise and thanks! Practical Survey of Actions In this third element of the examen ordinarily we rush to review, in some specific 18 Review for Religious, Volume .31, 1972/1 detail, our actions of that part of the day just finished so we can catalogue them as good or bad. Just what we shouldn't do! Our prime concern here in faith is what has been happening to and in us since the last exa.men. The operative questions are: what has been happening in us, how has the Lord been working in us, what has He been asking us. And only secondarily are our own actions to be considered. This part of the examen presumes that we have become sensitive to our interior feelings, moods, and slightest urgings and that we are not frightened by them but have learned to take them very seriously. It is here in~ the depths of our affectivity, so spontaneous, strong, and shadowy at times, that God moves us and deals with us most intimately. These interior moods, feelings, urges, and movements are the "spirits" that must be sifted out, discerned, so we can recognize the Lord's call to us at this intimate core of our being. As we have; said above, the examen is a chief means to this discerning of our interior consciousness. This presumes a real faith approach to life - that life is first listening, then acting in response: The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who listens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can d"iosbceedrnie tnhcee wofo rfdai tahn.d" .w. iIltl oisf tthhee Laottridtu mdaen oiffe srteecde tpot ihvinit~y, ,h pe amsussitv rietsypoIn adn wdi tpho avlel rthtye oPfa uolninee who is always in need, radically dependent, conscious of his creaturehood. Hence the great need for interior quiet, peace, and a passionate receptivity that attunes us to listening to God's word at every instant and in every situation and then responding in our own activity. Again in a world that is founded more on activity (becoming activism), productivity, and efficiency (whereas efficacity is a norm for the kingdom of God!) this faith view is implicitly, if not explicitly, challenged at every turn in the road. And so our first concern here is with these subtle.intimate, affective ways in which the Lord has been dealing with us during these past few hours. Perhaps we did not recognize Him calling in that past moment, but now our vision is clear and direct. Secondarily our concern is with our actions insofar as they were responses to His calling. So often our activity becomes primary to hs and all sense of response in our activity is lost. We become self-moved and mbtivated rather than moved and motivated by the Spirit (Rom 8:14). This is a subtle lack of faith and failure to live as a son or daughter of our Father. In the light of faith it is the quality (of responsive-ness) of the activity, more than the activity itself, which makes the difference for the kingdom of God. , In this general review there is no strain to reproduce every second since the last examen; rather our concern is with specific details and incidents as they reveal patterns and bring some clarity and insight. This brings us to a consideration of what Ignatius calls the particular examen. This element of the examen, perhaps more than any other, has been misunder-stood. It has often become an effort to divide and conquer by moving down the list of vices or up the list of virtues in a mechanically planned approach to self-perfection. A certain amount of time was spent on each vice or virtue one by one, and then we moved on to the next one on the list. Rather than a practical programmed approach to perfection, the parti'cular examen is meant to be a reverently honest, personal meeting with the Lordfin our own hearts. I David Asselin, S.J., "Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment," Review for Religious, v. 27 (1968), p. 594. Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 19 When we become sensitive and serious enough about loving God, we begin to realize some changes must be made. We are deficient in so many areas and so many defects must be done away with. But the Lord does not want all of them to be handled at once. Usually there is one area of our hearts where He is especially calling for conversion which is always the beginning of new life. He is interiorly nudging us in one area and reminding us that if we are really serious about Him this one aspect of ourselves must be changed. This is often precisely the one area we want to forget and (maybe!) work on later. We do not want to let His word condemn us in this one area and so we try to forget it and distract ourselves by working on some other safer area which does require conversion but not with the same urgent sting of consciousness that is true of the former area. It is in this first area of our hearts, if we will be honest and open with the Lord, where we are very personally experiencing the Lord in the burning fire of His Word as He confronts us here and now. So often we fail to recognize this guilt for what it really is or we try to blunt it by working hard on something else that we may want to correct whereas the Lord wants something else here and now. For beginners it takes time to become interiorly sensitive to God before they gradually come to recognize the Lord's cidl to conversion (maybe involving a very painful struggle!) in some area of their lives. It is better for beginners to take this time to learn what the Lord wants their particular examen now to be rather than just taking some assigned imperfection to get started on. And so the particular examen is very personal, honest, and at times a very subtle experience of the Lord calling in our hearts for deeper conversion to Himself. The matter of the conversion may remain the same for a long period of time, but the important thing is our sense of His personal challenge to us. Often this experience of the Lord calling for conversion in one small part of our hearts takes the expression of good healthy guilt which should be carefully interpreted and responded to if there is to be progress in holiness. When the particular examen is seen as this personal experience of the Lord's love for us, then we can understand why St. Ignatius suggests that we turn our whole consciousness to this experience of the Lord (whatever it be in all practicality, for example, more subtle humility or readiness to get involved with people on their terms, etc.) at those two very important moments in our day, when we begin our day and when we close it, besides the formal examen times. In this third dimension of the formal examen the growing faith sense of our sinfulness is very central. This is more of a spiritual faith reality as revealed by the Father in our experience than a heavily moralistic and guilt-laden reality. A deep sense of sinfulness depends on our growth in faith and is a dynamic realization which always ends in thanksgiving - the song of a "saved sinner." In his book Growth in the Spirit, Francgis Roustang, in the second chapter, speaks very profoundly about sinfulness and thanksgiving. This can provide enormous insight into the relationship of these second and third elements of the formal examen, especially as dimensions of our abiding Christian consciousness. Contrition and Sorrow The Christian heart is always a heart in song - a song of deep joy and gratitude. But the Alleluia can be quite superficial and without body and depth unless it is genuinely touched with sorrow. This is the song of a sinner constantly aware of being prey to his sinful tendencies and yet being converted into the newness which is guaranteed in the victory of Jesus Christ. Hence, we never grow out of a sense of wonder-ful sorrow in the presence of our Savior. 2O Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 This basic dimension of our heart's vision which the Father desires to deepen in us as He converts us from sinners to His sons and daughters, if we allow Him, is here applied to the specifics of our actions since the lhst examen, especially insofar as they were selfishly inadequate responses to the Lord's work in our hearts. This sorrow will especially spring from the lack of honesty and courage in responding to the Lord's call in the particular examen. This contrition and sorrow is not a shame nor a depression at our weakness but a faith experience as we grow in our realization of our Father's awesome desire that we love Him with every ounce of our being. After this description, the value of pausing each day in formal examen and giving concrete expression to this abiding sense of sorrow in our hearts should be quite obvious and should flow naturally from the third element of practical survey of our actions. Hopeful Resolution for Future This final element of the formal daily examen grows very naturally out of the previous elements. The organic development leads us to face the future which is now rising to encounter us and become integrated into our lives. In the light of our present discernment of the immediate past how do we look to the future? Are we discouraged or despondent or fearful of the future? If this is the atmosphere of our hearts now, we must wonder why and try to interpret this atmosphere; we must be honest in acknowledging our feeling for the future, and not repress it by hoping it will go away. The precise expression of this final element will be determined by the organic flow of this precise examen now. Accordingly, this element of resolution for the immediate future will never happen the same way each time. If it did happen in the same expression each time, it would be a sure sign that we were not really entering into the previous four elements of the examen. At this point in the examen there should be a great desire to face the future with renewed vision and sensitivity as we pray both t~ recognize even more the subtle ways in which the Lord will greet us and to hear His Word call us in the existential situation of the future and to respond to His call with more faith, humility, and courage. This should be especially true of that intimate abiding experience of the Lord calling for painful conversion in some area of our heart - what we have called the particular examen. A great hope should be the atmosphere of our hearts at this point - a hope not founded on our own deserts, or our own powers for the future, but rather founded much more fully in our Father whose glorious victory in Jesus Christ we share through the life of Their Spirit in our hearts. The more we will trust God and allow Him to lead in our lives, the more we will experience true supernatural hope in God painfully in and through, but quite beyond, our own weak powers - an experience at times frightening and emptying but ultimately joyfully exhilarating. St. Paul in this whole passage from the Letter to the Philippians (3:7-14) expresses well the spirit of this conclusion of the formal examen: ". I leave the past behind and with hands outstretched to whatever lies ahead I go straight for the goal" (3:13). Examen and Discernment We will close this article with some summary remarks about the examen, as here described, and disceinment of spirits. When examen is understood in this light and so practiced each day, then it becomes so much more than just a brief exercise performed once or twice ~ day and which is quite secondary to our formal prayer Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 21 and active living of God's love in our daily situation. Rather it becomes an exercise which so focuses and renews our specific faith identity that we should be even more reluctant to omit our examen than our formal contemplative prayer each day. This seems to have been St. Ignatius' view of the practice of the examen. He never talks of omitting it though he does talk of adapting and abbreviating the daily meditation for various reasons. For him it seems the examen was central and quite inviolate. This strikes us as strange until we revamp our understanding of the examen. Then perhaps we begin to see the examen as so intimately connected to our growing identity and so important to our finding God in all things at all times that it becomes our central daily experience of prayer. For Ignatius finding God in all things is what life is all about. Near the end of his life he said that "whenever he wished, at whatever hour, he could find God" (Autobiography, # 99). This is the mature Ignatius who had so fully allowed God to possess every ounce of his being through a clear YES to the Father that radiated from the very core of his being, that he could be conscious at any moment he wanted of the deep peace, joy, and contentment (consolation, see the Exercises, # 316) which was the experience of God at the center of his heart. Ignatius' identity, at this point in his life, was quite fully and clearly "in Christ" as Paul says: "For now my place is in him, and I am not dependent upon any of the self-achieved righteousness of the Law" (Phil 3:9); Ignatius knew and was his true self in Christ. Being able to find God whenever he wanted, Ignatius was now able to find Him in all things through a test for congruenc~ of any interior impulse, mood, or feeling with his true self. Whenever he found interior consonance within himself (which registers as peace, joy, contentment again) from the immediate interior movement and felt himself being his true congruent self, then he knew he had heard God's word to him at that instant. And he responded with that fullness of humble courage so typical of Ignatius. If he discovered interior dissonance, agitation, and disturb-ance "at the bottom of the heart" (to be carefully distinguished from repugnance "at the top of the head''2) and could not find his true congruent self in Christ, then he recognized the interior impulse as an "evil spirit" and he experienced God by "going against" the desolate impulse (cf. Exercises, # 319). In this way he was able to find God in all things by carefully discerning all his interior experiences ("spirits"). Thus discernment of spirits became a daily very practical living of the art of loving God with his whole heart, whole body, and whole strength. Every moment of life was loving (finding) God in the existential situation in a deep quiet, peace, and joy. For Ignatius, this finding God in the prese.nt interior movement, feeling, or option was almost instantaneous in his mature years because the central "feel" or "bent" of his being had so been grasped by God. For the beginner, what was almost instantaneous for the mature Ignatius may require the effort of a prayerful process of a few hours or days depending on the importance of the movement-impulse to be discerned. In some of his writings, Ignatius uses examen to refer to this almost instantaneous test for congruence with his true self - something he could do a number of times every hour of the day. But he also speaks of examen in the formal restricted sense of two quarter-hour exercises of prayer a day. The intimate and essential relationship between these two senses of examen has been the point of this whole article. 2john Carroll Futrell, S.J., Ignatian Discernment (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 64. IEDWABD CARTIER, S.J. Pluralism in Christian Life [ Edward Carter, S.J., author of Response in Christ (1969) and Spirituality for Modern Man (197 I), is associate professor of theology at Xavier University ; Cincinnati, Ohio 4520"/.] There has always been a certain diversity which has characterized the history of Christian life or spirituality. There have been different schools of spirituality, different trends, different emphases; but all of these, in so far as they have been authentic, have been rooted in the same gospel message. They have, each in their own manner, been reflections of the one mystery of Christ. Today's Church is marked by an accentuation of this diversity in spirituality or Christian living. But before fastening our gaze upon the contemporary scene, let us first reflect upon some of the theological principles which give rise to this diversity or pluralism. The first of these principles concerns the mystery of Christ as relived by Church and Christian. The People of God, individually and collectively, are meant to continue the redemptive Incarnation in space and time by reliving the life, death, and resurrection of Christ - the mystery of Christ. The mystery of Christ, however, is richly d.iversified. Jesus in His life, death, and resurrection has left us many different truths and examples to be incorporated into our own Christian existence. Historically, this rich variation of the mystery of Christ has given rise to different schools of spirituality. Each of these gives a special witness to this or that aspect of the Christ-event, to its own particular harmonization and implementation of the various facets which comprise this event - the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. For instance, Carmelite spirituality has always stressed prayer, as it gives a special witness to the Christ who often went aside and prayed to His heavenly Father. Benedictine spirituality gives a special attention to liturgy, and, consequently, emphasizes the priestly activity of Christ. Dominican spirituality has traditionally stressed the pursuit of truth as it points in its own special manner to the prophetic or teaching office of Christ. Franciscan spirituality, among other things, has emphasized the material simplicity of Jesus' life. Ignatian spirituality has stressed as one of its leading characteristics the union of a~tion and contemplation - both of which were marvelously blended in the life of Jesus. In more recent times, in the effort to apply in a special way the mystery of Christ to the diocesan priesthood and to the laity, there have been writings dealing with the spiritualities appropriate to these two vocations. The mystery of Christ, then, possessing at one and the same time a varied richness and a profound unity, makes possible different spiritual movements which, however, ultimately comprise but one Christian spirituality. Consequently, we must preserve a balanced view. We must admit the legitimacy of varied spiritual movements and schools of spirituality with their own particular nuances in the following of Christ, while at the same time realizing that all Christian spiritualities are essentially the same. They have very much in common since they are rooted in the one Christ, in one and the same total Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 23 gospel, in one and the same liturgy. We have established what is a very basic theological reason for diversity in spirituality - the diversity which is contained in the very mystery of Christ. There are two more principles we would now like "to discuss which help us to see' the utility and even necessity of diversity or pluralism in the Christian life. These second and third principles are connected with what we might term the theology of personal uniqueness, and the theology of time and culture. The theology of personal uniqueness tells us that each human person is an eternal imitation of God. Any one individual can truthfully say that there never has been, is not now, nor ever will be, any other person like himself. Each person is a eternal uniqueness. As we are elevated to supernatural life through our incorporation into Christ, this personal uniqueness is .deepened. This is simply an application of the theological principle that grace does not destroy nor lessen nature, but perfects it, gives it a deepened capacity to actuate more deeply all its authentic dimensions. One of these dimensions is personal uniqueness. Our life in Christ, then, far from destroying or lessening our uniqueness, respects and develops it. There are various implications and ramifications flowing out of this theology of personal uniqueness relative to diversity or pluralism in spirituality. We have said that there are various spiritual movements and schools of spirituality because of the possibility of reliving the richly diversified .mystery of Christ with different emphases and nuances. As this diversity is possible between schools of spirituality, so is it possible in reference to individuals. Not only is it possible, but it is actually necessary because of the concept of personal uniqueness. No two Christians will put on Christ in exactly the same manner; for they put on Christ according to what each is. Although obviously each Christian is to assimilate Christ in essentially the same manner, he will also do it in a manner which cannot be duplicated. He will offer Christ his own unique person with his unique temperament, personality, capacities, and talents. Through the uniqueness of this Christian, Christ continues His redemptive Incarnation in a particular way, a way which cannot be duplicated. Consequently, even though two individuals are following the same spirituality - Dominican, Franciscan, Ignatian, or any other - there will be a difference or a diversity manifested as they live out this common spirituality. Sometimes this diversity will be quite striking. This does not mean that one or the other has wavered from the spiritual tradition to which each has committed himself or herself. Of course, such a diversity could be so explained in certain instances. But a diversity, and again even a striking one, could be present as each is authentically living out the one spiritual tradition which they profess in common. In such cases the diversity is to be explained by the principle of personal uniqueness. Furthermore, pluralism or diversity in the Christian life is found not only between the different spiritualities, not only between individuals, but also within the extended existence of the same individual. Contemporary thought has empha-sized that man and his world must be considered according to a framework which has a dynamic, progressive, evolutionary dimension. We now realize that we must not view man as being a static creature. While it is obviously important to realize that man is always essential!y the same throughout the ages, it is also very important to remember that man has a thrust toward change, toward evolving into what he is yet to become,.toward authentically adapting to the signs of the times. If such truths are applicable to mankind in general, they are also proportionately pertinent to each individual. Because each individual has an evolutionary dimen-. sion, a thrust toward that which has not yet been achieved, an innate desire to 24 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 become more what his uniqueness is destined to be, he is simultaneously always the same individual and always a dynamically different individual. One's personal uniqueness, then, has both an unchangeable and a changeable dimension. We can see the implications of this for one's Christian existence. Because the Christian is meant to change dynamically and evolve into a greater assimilation to Christ, his needs are not always the same. While he must always strive to maintain a proper balance of the Christian essentials according to his present spiritual condition and development, his needs may vary.'At a certain time he may be attracted to giving a considerable amount of time to formal prayer. At another time, while not neglecting set times of prayer, he may feel called to a greater external involvement for the cause of Christ. At certain periods of his life he may feel a need for frequent spiritual direction, while at other times the intervals of this direction will be greatly lengthened. A person can feel a graced attraction for the renunciation of certain created goods and values at one time, while at another he is drawn rather to use and relate to them in a proper fashion. While always striving to have a proper balance in his imitation of Christ, he can differ in his desire to focus his attention now on this, now on that event of Jesus' life, now on this truth of Christ, now on another. Spiritual diversity or pluralism, consequently, is present within the one and same Christian individual. Having seen how diversity is present in the Christian life because of the principle of pluralism contained in the very mystery of Christ, and because of the principle of personal uniqueness, we now come to our third and final principle which helps provide a basis for such diversity or pluralism. This principle deals with ideas contained in what can be called the theology of time and culture. In God's dealings with mankind, the concepts of time, or of historical situation, and culture, have played a very important role. In saving man, God works within time, history, and culture. His salvific action is not unnaturally superimposed upon man's historical and cultural situation. Rather, God's salvific process works within time, history, and culture. Consequently, His saving will throughout the continued course of salvation history manifests itself differently - diversely or pluralistically. This diversity or pluralism of God's salvific activity can in part be explained by the factor of historical and cultural exigency. A .classic example of this is the comparison between the old and new covenants. God's dealings with the people of the Mosaic covenant were conditioned both by the point of time in salvation history that was then actually operative, and the culture of the Jewish people. With the enfleshment of His Son and the ensuing formation of the new covenant, God communicated Himself in a manner partially different from that Self-communica-tion which prevailed during the time of the Mosaic covenant. If God's salvific activity has a pluralism or diversity attached to it because He respects the time-conditioned and culture-conditioned life situation of man, so must there be a similarly caused pluralism in Christian life. For the Christian life is radically a response to God's salvific activity, a response to His loving initiative which always precedes us. God's activity, respecting the differences which time and culture insert into human history, will exact differentiated responses from the Christian community. This differentiation or pluralism can exist between the various ages of the Church, and, therefore, we legitimately speak of the pre-dominant spirituality of the sixteenth century or of a certain period within the eighteenth century. This pluralism can also exist within the same age because of cultural differences. God respects the African culture, the Chinese culture, the American culture, and so forth. As Christians within these various cultures respond Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/I 25 to God's continued Self-communication, they will do so in a manner which is partly determined by their particular cultures. Because there are differences in their cultures, we will find a Christian pluralism arising out of these cultural differences. An African spirituality will differ somewhat from an American spirituality, and they both will differ from a Spanish spirituality. Up to this point we have been discussing basic truths and principles which offer a sound theological basis for pluralism in Christian spirituality. This pluralism, while obviously having a place in any age of Christianity, is an especially important dimension of contemporary Christian life; for today's Church offers a particularly advantageous climate for the development of authentic pluralism in Christian living. This favorable climate has developed because of the greater spirit of freedom which is present in today's Church. True, this greater freedom has been abused in many instances, but this fact cannot deny that God seems to intend this climate of expanded freedom in today's Church, for this freedom has emanated from the very truths and principles of Vatican II. The connection between pluralism and a Church which allows a greater freedom of thought and life style expression is obvious. In such a Church various thrusts of pluralism and diversity are bound to fructify more often than in a Church which is heavily monolithic, a Church which has its thought and life style too much imposed from the top down. The hierarchy will always have the leading role in directing the Christian thought and life style of the People of God, but it must do so according to the principle of collegiality. This principle allows for all members of the People of God to help shape the life of the Church. However, in order to flourish, collegiality needs a spirit of freedom, some elbow room in which to maneuver - and, yes, even in which to make some mistakes. Consequently, even though some are tempted to think at times that the greater freedom of today's Church has resulted in more harm than good, fundamentally this is not true. In the last analysis such a Church will be a healthier and more mature Church - and one characterized by a greater pluralism in her Christian life. There are already various examples of an increased pluralism in today's Christian life. For instance, the liturgical aspect of today's spirituality is greatly diversified when compared to the liturgical situation of ten years ago. As for the apostolic dimension of contemporary Christian life, there has been considerable discussion and implementation relative to pluralism in Christian ministry. Also, Christian life style is considerably more pluralistic today than previously. This greater diversity of life style can be found even within the one and same religious order or congregation. There has also been a much greater pluralism in theological thought, a pluralism which often filters down and makes its impact on spirituality, on Christian living. New and diversified forms of prayer have appeared to take their places alongside the traditional ones. These, then, are some indications that today's Christian life is marked by an increased diversity. There are three special qualities which are necessary to live properly in today's Christian community with its increased pluralism. These qualities are not mutually exclusive. There is an overlap between them, but each has its own particular nuance. First of all, there is the need for an increased awareness of the necessity of spiritual discernment. Among the diverse movements in today's Church, which are really Spirit-led? And after I satisfy myself as to which are Spirit-inspired and which are not, which one does the Spirit intend for me personally? Regardless of any particular age of the Church, the Spirit does not intend any one person to incorporate within his own Christian existence all authentic thought styles and life 26 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/i styles. But in an age when authentic possibilities have been greatly increased and diversified, the necessity for spiritual discernment becomes more obvious. To cope properly with today's pluralism we also especially need the quality of Christian maturity. Increased diversity within the Church demands increased maturity. In the more tightly structured and monolithic Church of pre-Vatican II days, we had things spelled out for us in much greater detail compared to the situation which prevails today. The Church of today is asking us to exercise a greater maturity, a more mature use of our freedom, as we are called upon to live responsibly in a more pluralistic Church. The Church is asking us to use our greater freedom properly, not to abuse it, but to direct it, among other ways, at the development of an authentic pluralism. Finally, besides an increased sense of Christian discernment and maturity, there is a special need today for the spirit of Chrisitan tolerance - a tolerance of the views and life styles which do not agree with my own. The need for this spirit of tolerance is indeed evident if only we look at what each of us has experienced in recent years. One of the great pains of the post-Vatican I1 Church is precisely that caused by the numerous and diverse viewpoints which have arisen in the contem-porary Church. This spirit of tolerance, of course, does not mean we condone what we think is wrong. It does mean, though, an increased effort at being open to the views of others, an admission that a more greatly diversified Church is intended by the signs of the times, a realization that we are all more likely to make mistakes in such a situation as we grope for the lead of the Spirit, a lead which at times is much more hidden than we would like because of the confusion of a Church and world experiencing a radical transition. A more diversified Church and a more pluralistic Christian life are what we are all experiencing. We can say, as perhaps all of us have been tempted to say at one time or another during recent years, that it is too difficult to cope consistently with the situation. We have all, no doubt, been tempted to withdraw from the struggle which an increasingly pluralistic Church demands. We have been tempted to carve out our own little niche of Christian existence and there lead an unperturbed life and let all the confusion of a Church striving for authentic renewal and pluralism pass us by. If we surrendered to such a temptation, we would avoid a certain kind of pain and suffering. But we would also be missing the joy and sense of accomplishment which result from contributing our share to the shaping of a contemporary Christian life - one characterized, among other things, by an increased pluralism. DAVID K. 0'ROURKE, 0.P. Three Models for Viewing Religious Life [David K.O'Rourke, O.P:, is the prior of the Berkeley Priory; 1730 Arch Street; Berkeley, California 94709; he is also associate professor of pastoral theology in St. Albert's College and in the Graduate Theological Onion of Berkeley and is associate director of the Western Dominican Province's Pastoral Training Program. I The purpose of this article is to give a structured view of some of the reasons why a man may choose to enter religious life. More specifically, it is an attempt to understand in a schematic and rationalized way, with three different and distinct models, what there is in the religious life that brings a potential member to view it as a viable alternative to the several possibilities in the lay life. Obviously, this means that I see the religious life as a viable alternative, and such is the case. There is always the possibility that an analysis of religious motivations and structures can come from, or be seen as, an attempt to undercut religious life. The fact that analyses of this sort have been known to have the heavy-handedness of an autopsy supports these fears. Such is not my purpose. I presuppose that religious life is livable and worthwhile, and I presuppose this because I have seen it to be so for myself and others. Of course, there are pathological reasons why one may choose to enter a religious community. These have been analyzed with ability and insight. My purpose here is to apply the same analytic approach to the valid and healthy reasons that enter into a sound vocation. This latter comment is significant because it points out the pragmatic and experiential quality of the approach I will follow in this article. There are other approaches, ones which would begin on a more absolute and theocentric note, or ones which could begin in a less concrete and more "spiritual" way. I have no argument with them. I presuppose all they might say. Here I limit myself to the more human and concrete elements which enter into an individual's decision. It will also be noted that I am speaking here of male religious. This does not mean that the ideas presented here are not applicable to women religious. However, the ideas in this article are drawn from experience with male religious and in fact might not be applicable to women. My experience with women religious has been limited primarily to counseling those in the process of leaving their communities. Obviously this would give me a one-sided view, so I will leave the question of applicability to the ladies themselves. To begin with, and again noting that my view is of healthy reasons, I see people entering religious life in order to make sense of their lives. With the approach of adulthood a young man is faced with the need of stating for himself who he is, the better to enter into the tasks and relationships that face him. The answer to the question "Who am I?" is critical for his future life. Now it is fairly certain, I imagine, that very few men, save in the hands of TV script writers, actually pose the question "Who am I?" in so many words. Yet, faced with choosing their education, their type and place of employment, their friends, and the need to 28 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 establish a different, more independent relationship with their families, they are in fact faced with the question "Who am 17" And the answers that each makes to these questions, the decisions he maizes about his education, employment, and human relationships will bring into play and firm up the values that will give the ethical dimension to his self-view. It is my experience that the choice for a life within the context of a religious community can be understood in this light. To make this understanding more concrete 1 propose to speak about three models of religious life which have occurred to me, and which bespeak three rather functionally significant aspects of life. They are functionally significant, as I put it, in that by their individual and interwoven appeal they can be seen to account for a major portion of our religious vocations. These three models are the service model, the life style model and the intellectual model. I will speak of each in turn. The service model entails the desire to help, and the process of being helpful to, others. It means a self-view in which the helping process looms large. Asked the question "Who am I?" the answer would be "I am a person who helps others." Obviously, this desire to help and the actual fact of serving can take many forms. In fact it has taken many forms in the course of the Church's history. The many religious groups dedicated to education, to caring for the sick and old, and in general to meeting the needs of those in need, bear eloquent witness to the institutionalization of the service model. Viewing this model further within the context of self-identity, we can single out the following additional elements. By definition it is other-oriented. There is a relational quality which predominates. The individual's energies turn outward from himself to another person or persons. Furthermore, the medium by which the individual religious relates to others is the work he performs for them. This bespeaks a certain type of personality. 1 might add here that the notion of a "personality type" does not imply some sort of pathology. Rather, it is no more than the recognition that the abilities, interests, likes, and dislikes of any individual will lead him to interact with the world around him in such a way that we can note patterns of similarity between certain individuals. The second of the models is the life style model. This is really quite different from the service model. Again using the question of identity, the individual attracted by this model would identify himself by referring to the way he goes about the details of his life. Its scheduling and disciplines, its structures such as the patterns of collective prayer, communality in housing, dress, and table all point to a definite and institutionalized way of life. And it is a style of life to which the individual adapts himself. Again, this life style model has had a long history in the Church. It typifies all those groups which we call monastic and can be seen as the most notable element in monasticism. The relational quality in the life style model is also quite different from that in the service model. Here the relationship is in large part with the individual himself. This might seem strange since there are so many external acts and tangible elements that go into the daily life of a monastic community and to which the individual is called on to relate and respond. But they are things whereby he can give to himself a shape and forming consonant with the values embodied in this style of life. It might seem that this life style model is not only different from but runs counter to the service model. In many ways this is true. It is difficult to say that a way of life that is oriented to helping others is basically the same as a way of life that is oriented toward helping one's self. I do not claim that they are basically the Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 29 same but quite the contrary. My purpose here is, once again, to state that these models are real, that they are articulated in these ways, and that they function in the lives of those in religious life. The third model of religious life 1 wish to go into is the intellectual model. This differs from the above two in that it denotes an approach that is typified not as much by action as by a state of mind. The individual who is attracted by this approach is an individual who enters situations head first. He is interested in knowing the reason why.Faced with the question of self-identity he answers "I am a person who must make sense of things, and to do so I must know why they are the way they are." Does this really differ from the other two? I find that it definitely does, that it is not just an aspect of either of the first two models. The individual drawn by the service model is not about to question the value of serving others. Its value is self-evident. The individual drawn by the life style model is content with the fact that to him this way of life feels right. The individual characterized by the intellectual model is by nature a questioner. Whatever the emotional or other causes, the result is an approach typified by a series of probing questions. Furthermore, his questioning will often be directed toward the other two models. Is this the person we should help? Is this the way to help? What are our priorities here, and are they correct? Is this monastic life appropriate? Why do you like it? Is it worthwhile, does it make sense? In relating to others he does so with a question on his lips. This question stems from his need to make intellectual sense of his world. He confronts, he challenges, he probes, often in a way offensive to those who do not understand his way of doing things. There is an analytic and evaluative process at work, one which can lead to a further integration into the religious life, but which can also appear to be negative and destructive. It can be argued that the individual drawn into religious life by the intellectual model is basically looking into someone else's way of doing things. What are his own supports and values? To answer perhaps oversimply, his chief support is the process itself of analyzing. As long as he is able to continue trying to make sense of things he will be sufficiently at home with himself to survive with some comfort. In addition, there is the more important question of this person's utility t6 the community around him. Does his probing and examining of his community's emotional, theological, financial, and mythological supports serve any purpose? I think it does. The Church in its history, at least in its more self-reflective periods, has tried to build in mechanisms for self-criticism. Granted, this has been with mixed success at best. But we do hold our own critics in some real esteem, at least in hindsight. In addition, we have institutionalized this critical process in those areas of moral theology which deal with concrete issues. The Church and the religious life, at least on the theoretical level, havealways had a place for the analyser, and the capacity of the institution to tolerate its critics is a sign of its maturity. It might also be helpful to point out, finally, that the questioning by this individual does not come necessarily from an opposition to those things he questions. It is analysis, it is not attack. It might well be hard to put up with, but it is primarily this person's way of relating to the world around him. At this point 1 would again like to point out that each of these models is a partial view, and each one does typify real people. Any one of these models is sufficiently capable of absorbing the energies of an individual to provide for him a rather complete view of his vocation. The fact that the model might bespeak a limited 30 Review for Religious, Volume 3 I, 1972/1 approach, in fact does bespeak a limited approach, is both true and irrelevant. The energies and interests of any one individual are always limited. What I am here maintaining is that this limitation has a recoghizable shape to. it, and that in my experience the diversity in these shapes can be viewed in the light of these three models without notable distortion. The fact of limitation can also have aspects to it which are not quite as neutral as might seem to be the case from the above statements. I would like to single out the types of difficulties that can and do arise with each of these models. The service model, as noted above, will be attractive to the person whose identity receives outward expression in helping others. Obviously, this means that this individual will be oriented toward work, since service reqhires work. In certain situations the outlet for helping others is rather severely cut off. This is the case in many novitiates, and especially during academic studies. Here the student is expected to channel his energies in ways which are different from those to which he is accustomed, and this does not come easy. I would suspect that much of the criticism directed against seminary studies has this at its root. The students are not so much opposed to study as they are frustrated in their desire, indeed their need, to expend their energies in the way that comes most easily to them. A basic pattern of relating is frustrated, and this frustration is going to make itself felt. In addition we can expect that any notable frustration in the attempt to be of service is going to cause stress for this individual. Whether the frustration comes from competing requirements, such as studies, or from official interference, or from the rejection of the services offered, the result will be the same - a sense of disorientation that the individual will be hard pressed to cope with. Of all these possibilities probably the most troubling is the rejection of help offered because it is so final and does not admit of alternatives. When the rejected help is the product of considerable effort and the result of a great in~,estment on the part of the individual, the effect can be devastating. Religious who place great stock in their work and are told at some point th::t what they have been preparing for or what they have already been doing is no longer needed are prime examples of this. Their crisis is not a minor one but one that can shake them to the roots of their personality. There is also the danger that the individual attracted by this model - or any of these three, for that matter - will not be a particularly self-reflective person. In this case he is not apt to see that his way of doing things - the particular model that attracts him, or his way of putting it to work - has some subjective and personal need-fulfilling sources to it. His way becomes absolutized, his way becomes the way, and other ways are to be adapted and refashioned in support of his. Furthermore, explaining to the non-reflective person, presenting him with an intelligible rationale which tells him why his view is too narrow, is a waste of time. By definition, by virtue of the fact that he is non-reflective, he will be unable to grasp tiffs. It is asking him to use a weak or undeveloped faculty. It is much better to present him with the conclusion, that is, that others are not going to adapt to suit him, and help him cope with it as best he can. With the person attracted by the life style model, the limitations are of quite another sort. We can pinpoint them by observing that monastic practices have considerable similarities in Christian and non-Christian traditions. It is possible to be a good monk, as the Buddhist monastic tradition bears witness, without being a Christian. There is thus nothing basically Christian about monasticism; it is one of the ways man has invented for living a human life. Also, monasticism can have an Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 31 absolute character to it; it can engage all the time and energies of the monk in a pattern of meditative, penitential, and ritual practices. In addition there is a certain absolutism in Christianity. The life and teachings of Jesus, our knowledge of the early Church from the Acts and St. Paul, and the subsequent development of both these in the life of the Church and in its theology, point out that the half-hearted and lukewarm Christian life is to be shunned in favor of greater commitment. The danger here is to make the mistake of equating monastic absolutism with Christian absolutism. 1 believe that when this happens it does so because monastic absolutism presents an articulated, structured, and circumscribed channel for the Christian's desire to get in touch with what is absolute. In its most extreme form this would be to equate becoming one with the monastic absolute, that is, becoming absorbed, as it were, by the monastic life st~,le, with being one with God. It seems more exact to say that what has happened here is the substitution of a collective human structure for the individual personality, a process of quite questionable morality. But this is an extreme. Our focus here is the garden variety of problem that' comes from the life style model. The one I see to be common and troubling is the equation of religious life as a whole with the life style model. It is easy to see how this happens. Since it is the life style model that deals most directly with externals, especially with those externals which differentiate religious life from lay life, it is easy to equate these tangible and visible elements with religious life. This is a beginner's problem, and except in one area we seem to outgrow it. The exception has to do with the process of introducing new members. They are frequently placed under the direction of someone who is rather committed to the life style model. In large part I think this is due to the expectations of the incoming members, whose focus on visible and external elements is quite normal. It is also due, I suspect, to the guilt of work-oriented superiors about the lack of this model in their own lives, and for which they compensate in the choice of formation superiors. Be the cause what it may, it stacks the deck against a broader and more complete view of the opportunities present in the religious life. The problems in the intellectual model come, as with the others, from the very heart of the model. The intellectually oriented person is probably more developed in the thinking than in the feeling area. He will have less appreciation for the areas of religious life that utilize the feeling side, such as the symbolic and liturgical. This lack can become a real problem, for it can lead to an intolerance of any areas and elements which do not admit of the clear-cut, sharp-edged, and logical approach that is possible in the mind. Having viewed these three models there remains only one major comment I wish to make about them. It is fairly common to recognize that religious, like other people, will be oriented in one direction rather than another, that they have definite personalities, likes, dislikes, abilities, and weaknesses. And having recog-nized this, it is also common to forget it, to hope and expect that the individual will work out a personal balance including significant elements from each of these models. This is often raised to the level of an ideal, the religious equivalent of the well-rounded individual. This expectation is unrealistic, and it can be disastrous. A person who is drawn into religious life by the service model, and for whom the service model represents an important expression of his personal makeup, is quite apt not to be attracted by the life style model. If he is not, then any attempt to make him respond as though he were attracted by it probably won't work. If this is an importarit element in the 32 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 life of the group he is entering, then he should not enter it. If the religious group requires only some token observance of the life style model, recognized as token, then he can be expected to put up with it in the way any mature person can be expected to put up with things he doesn't like. But if the life style model, in fact, be important in the life of this community, then he shouldn't be there in the first place. There is no way, short of self-delusion, to get around the simple but difficult fact that he is in the wrong place. The hopes that he will change, that he will develop an appreciation for this view, are as futile as they are potentially destructive. The probable result will be complaining, fault-finding, and after considerable turmoil, departure for some situation where he can be of service to others and where he should probably have been in the first place. The same is true of the other models. The individual who comes to religious community because he wants and needs the structured, orderly life that comes from the life style model cannot realistically be expected to work and function well where these do not exist. If the life style model is part of the whole pattern of life there will be no problem. If, as is often the case, it is part of the seminary structure, after which the individual is expected to shift to a service model and provide his own working and personal structures, then there is going to be a dangerous situation, possibly involving a personal collapse. Similarly~ the individual drawn to religious life in order to make sense of his life, where making sense bespeaks an intellectual approach, cannot be expected to make a shift from this approach to another one. The fact that the particular style of life which he is asked to enter, and which he can't intellectually organize, might "feel right" to others will mean nothing to him and will probably antagonize him. The same applies to a work situation. "This is the way we do things here," or "This has always been our system" may be satisfying answers to some people. They will not satisfy this individual. He will be disturbed and disturbing until he is given a reason why. If none is to be forthcoming then it is better that he not work in that context. Some religious groups, such as my own Dominican Order, do combine these different models. But the combination is one of tension. We recognize that the tension is there, and we expect our members to tolerate it. We do not expect to be able to resolve it and thus demand that our members pay the price for maintaining the several elements which we see to be of value. There should be no question, however, but that there is a price to be paid. In summary, then, 1 see these models as expressions of personality patterns which do exist in reality. Whatever be the cultural or psychological causes here, experience seems to point out that we can speak of people who live their lives using the service of others, a structured life style, and an intellectual understanding of far-reaching reasons as means for ordering their lives. Furthermore, these patterns are often firm and definite. And, they are incorporated to differing degrees in the makeup of different religious groups. It seems crucial to me that, for everyone's benefit, religious groups should determine their own basic orientation and recruit their members accordingly. NICHOLAS AYO, C.S.C. Variance in the Religious Vows: What Poverty, Why Chaste, Who Obey? [Nicholas Ayo, C.S.C., is a member of the Department of English at the University of Portland ; Portland, Oregon 97203. ] No observer can fail to notice that the religious life under the three vows is undergoing considerable reinterpretation and change. Part of the explanation lies with the sweeping changes revising social and religious institutions throughout the world. What remains in doubt is how far-reaching these reinterpretations have become, and whether they should be viewed substantially as renewal or more as a distortion. The purpose of this essay is not primarily to evaluate the changes in religious life, although to an extent that kind of judgment is inevitable in the very selecting aud ordering of materials, but rather to describe the alternative vow styles that can be observed and to some degree categorized. After the ground has been as accurately mapped as possible, I shall offer some tentative conclusions concerning the progress and direction of the religious life in these days of not only "monasteries without walls," but also "monasteries for sale." In the history of the religious life, the three vows of poverty (goods of the hands and the earth), chastity (goods of body and the heart), and obedience (goods of the mind and the will) are late developments. From the very beginnings of the following of the Gospels in a radical form, there has always been, of course, some kind of interior dedication, if nothing more than a promise made to God alone in one's heart. For those living in comnmnity, a single vow of obedience, or stability, or poverty, or not to tnarry was often considered sufficiently embracive of all the areas of property, family, and discipline required to maintain the well being of a Christian community. What the three vows accomplished did not amount to additional demands upon a total dedication to following the gospel in a radical way, which even the hermit understood welt enough before God, but rather a more explicit determination of a "way of life" that the Church could specify and direct attention to as evangelical by profession and recognized publicly as such by the People of God through their bishops. Poverty Let us look at the three vows separately. Poverty usually is considered first, although apparently for no intrinsic reason. The advantageous effects of poverty depend upon some minimum ownership and use of goods and property. One may retain enough, of course, for life's needs. Destitution distorts poverty. The benefits of poverty, however, were not discovered by Christians. Property of its nature tends to encumber a person, saps his attention, and devours his freedom. The posses-sions- own-you syndro~ne has been with the world a long time. Auyone who owns an expensive yacht, or whatever, may well feel obligated to make use of it, whether 34 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 any longer inclined to or not. Moreover, it takes time, effort, and supervision to maintain an estate, to cultivate, guard, protect, insure, and in all respects properly manage property. Without this effort, the property is sooner or later lost or ruined. The more the wealth, the more the management; and even if managers are hired, the owner has to manage the managers. Property, therefore, unless carefully chosen and curtailed according to one's real needs, easily becomes a burden and actually impedes freedom instead of enhancing it. The pagans knew this, and modern man suspects all too often his convenience machines run him. They must be maintained according to their schedule, not his. Only the man who travels light moves without care. Historically, the ancient monasteries sooner or later acquired great wealth, and contemporary religious orders have amounted to multi-million-dollar operations. Someone has to manage the concerns as well as the property of these institutions. To help preserve the virtue of poverty in those Christians, whether in vows or not, whose task in life demanded the use of the power and goods of the rich, the concept of "stewardship" was evolved. Accordingly, one's labors as manager of millions of dollars were not directed to one's power and prestige, but rather to the commonweal. The steward was merely a servant.whose job was to invest and order goods and services for others. Many. contemporary religious see their vow of poverty in this light. United Air Lines credit cards and new Chevrolets are merely tools, necessary in a modern and affluent world, to get a job done. The heart of th.e religious vowed to poverty ought to remain free of the contamination of wealth, even while he or she has free access to the benefits that only the at least moderately rich enjoy. Poverty of Spirit, a sense of detachment, thus assumes the essence of the vow of poverty. How one uses property, not the quantity and kind of property, becomes the key question. However, from this position, too, a counterinsight arises. The argument goes like this. Granted stewardship is necessary and can be sanctified, it still falls short of the spiritual advantages of actual material poverty. Not everyone need share the poverty of the poor, of course, but those who wish to might vow to do so in an actual and explicit way. Francis of Assisi led a vanguard of those who sold everything, and in sandals alone followed the gospel. In modern times, the carefree poverty of a Francis is difficult to achieve literally - leather sandals can be very expensive. But some groups of religious monks, like the Little Brothers of Charles de Foucauld, do live a simple, inexpensive life, as do their secular monkish counterpart, the sleeping-bag, thumb-riding "hippies" of the 'back-to-the-earth counterculture. This phenomenon demonstrates once more that the advantages of material poverty are not recognized solely by those who follow Jesus Christ alone, although for the believer, identification with the man .of Nazareth, who had nowhere to lay his head, adds a significant core motive. The insight that validates material poverty as such amounts to this. The steward of wealth, while he may well keep his heart unattached, still enjoys the benefits of wealth. He is well cared for and comfortable, and so much the worse for him. Only those who know real want know life in a depth that becomes readily and spontaneously religious. Those who know not where tomorrow's food is coming from have a capacity to appreciate a piece of bread and a cup of cold water as the well-fed can never imagine. The poor know what creaturehood means - to be finite and finally powerless to hold onto one's life and keep everything within one's control. Actually, the rich man does not hold his life securely in his hands either, for accident and microbe strike without distinction of bank account; but the rich Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 35 man can surround himself with apparent defenses, fences, and doctors, who lend him the illusion that he is not finally in fact vulnerable, as the poor man well knows from his own experience. In the living out of actual poverty, virtues such as gratitude for the help of others, heartfelt thanks to God, and sharing alike with others flourish. Faced with helplessness and forced back on basic needs - food, shelter, and friends - it seems far simpler to discover the truth about one's self, that is, one is only a man, naked at birth and destined to dust; masks, poses, the power that corrupts, illusions of bright lights, and life without tragedy, cannot survive the facts. While the rich can hide from the human condition, the poor man knows that to be human is to be vulnerable, even while remaining appreciative, wondering, deeply aware of others, and alive with the radical truth that God alone suffices: "That is why I tell you, don't worry about life, wondering what you are going to eat. And stop bothering about what clothes you will need. Life is much more important than food, and the body more important than clothes. Think of the ravens. They neither sow nor reap, and they have neither store nor barn, but God feeds them. And how much more valuable do you think you are than birds?" (Lk 12:22-5). One further interpretation of poverty deserves mention, because some religious hold to this style, although many point out its fallacy. The position argues that although the group may be wealthy, the individual lives under a spirit of Christian communism - to each according to his need. Needs vary according to status and job, and so does the use of wealth. Actually this p, osition is a variety of the stewardship position, except that it removes the responsibility for management from the individual conscience and invests it in the hierarchical leadership of the group. The individual can thus use any amount of property in peace of conscience provided the group authority has given its approval. The critics of this position, of course, reply that no individual with the vow of poverty can abdicate his responsibility to remain poor, any more than a citizen can automatically wage war simply because his government approves the conflict. Celibacy At first consideration, celibacy seems a necessary concomitant of group living, and group living in a Christian community seems a continuation of the sharing of goods and life outlined in Acts, a sharing which foreshadows the coming of the kingdom. Why groups of families historically have not been able to maintain community living is not easily determined. Through the centuries there have been numerous attempts to do so, from the Brook Farm experiment of our American origins to the communes of 1970, but none have been long lived. Monasteries with single people and strict discipline managed to stay together, but familial groupings have not. No intrinsic reason seems evident to me why Christian community life could not incorporate families, but in practice celibates have a better record of success. The "efficiency model" for the vow of chastity (or celibacy as it might more fairly and accurately be called) emerges from just this insight. For, either it is argued that community life, that is, shared goods and shared inner life, demands celibacy, or even more persuasively it is maintained that a greater freedom for apostolic work becomes available to the single man or woman. Despite the counterarguments of successful and busy married doctors and politicians, it is claimed that a fulltime apostolate often needs a mobility that the person with a family can hardly enjoy without imposing on his family, especially on his children, 36 Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 who unlike his wife, did not know in advance what they were getting into. The celibate can work for less money, move locations quickly, and risk his life and health with less fear of the consequences t'o others to whom he is committed and responsible. The input that a generous and inspirational wife might add to a married man's apostolic work is often parried with the negative effects of an unhappy home life in the case of many married "apostles." In short, the argument states that the layman may enlist in the army of Christ, but the celibates will always make up the marines. Besides the "community life" and the "apostolic efficiency" justifications, an appeal for embracing the celibate life may include the "legal status quo." For example, to be a priest, at least today, includes celibacy as part of the package, and when the motivation for the priesthood is high, it can and does override the desire to marry. Actually many men and women remain in celibate vows because by age or inclination they no longer want marriage or children; no't a small number of middle-aged celibates fail to see what overwhelming competition the married state offers the celibate, if children are not a primary consideration. What this reluctance to marry may mean, however, is that many now in celibate vows would have married and raised a family at an earlier age, had the climate of acceptance for such vocational decisions been as good twenty years ago as it is today. Late marriages, of course, will always seem less attractive. If all practical reasons of whatever kind are set aside, whet today might motivate the vow of celibacy? A keen sense of vocation, of being chosen and being called, seems uppermost in many celibate vocational decisions. There is a sense of the mystery behind the destiny of any person, whether to marriage or to single life for the sake of the kingdom: "You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you," and "Everyman who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or land for my sake will receive it all back many times over, and will inherit eternal life" (Mt 19:29). The celibate vocation remains very much on the defensive today. If formerly marriage was considered a second-rate vocation, it is clear that the atmosphere of sexual fulfillment as a necessary ingredient for maturity and personality growth has left the celibate vocation almost in need of a "single's lib" movement. Those who thrive within the celibate vocation seem to have developed a profotind awareness that no man can run the entire gamut of human experience. One life style cancels out another; there are advantages to restraint as well as to delight. Those who are married have a set of pluses and minuses, which while they differ from the pros and the cons of the celibate, may indeed total out to an equivalent sum. Robert Frost's lines "I have chosen the road less travelled by / And it has made all the difference," or Thomas More's apologia in A Man for All Seasons, namely, I choose to believe this because I choose, may finally be the ultimate explanation for a vocation. There is no adequate reason that can be formulated and presented convincingly to any other open-minded person that he should go and do likewise. One is dealing with the kind of radical freedom exercised in choosing a spouse. I marry Susan because I choose Susan, not for any catalog of virtues that would automatically persuade every other reasonable man to marry Susan. Finally, many celibates do experience a discovery in the expanded opportunities for well-developed and often protracted friendships with someone of the opposite sex. Such friendships often enrich their life and yet confirm their vocation to celibacy. The insight that emerges is this. Any deep bisexual friendship demands cultivation, ingenuity, time, effort, emotional energy, imagination, and thoughtful- Review for Religious, Volume 31, 1972/1 37 ness. One may conclude that there can be only one dominant psychological center in one's life for any length of time; and if a deep cultivated life of prayer and practi

(J^JLMJAU!**-- MARCH, J899 oeTtneoo Qettysbmr erciury .CONTENTS. The Old Campus 1 Extracts from "Honor in Stu-dent Life" 4 A Page from Prof. Brede's Diary 6 Henry Louis Baugher 7 A Compiled Thanatopsis 10 Thy Speech Bewrayeth Thee 13 The Favorite Sport of Rome IS The Cultivation of the Dramatic. 18 Concerning the Inhabitants of Porto Rico 20 The Reconciliation of Orlando and Oliver 24 Editor's Desk 26 Kee Mar Reception 29 Success in Art 31 The Trip to Chambersburg 33 Athletics 35 jBURGreOLCEGE^LIiRARY GETTYSBURG, PA, r\Hiimmmmitimmmmsmm. FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. J. R. STINEk-> •*nd SON, Gents' Furnisher, CHAHBERSBURO STREET. C. B. Kitzmiller, Dealer In Hats, Caps, Boots and . A.—Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. J. H. Myers, Fashionable Tailor, Clothier and Gents' Furnisher. The best place in town tohayeyourCloth-mg made to order. All workmanship and Trimmings guaranteed. No charge for re-pairs and pressing for one year. Dyeing and Repairing a specialty. Ready-made Clothing the largest stock in town. Up-to-date styles. Bicycle Suits and Breeches Headquarters. 11 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. S. B. ALCOTT, .Agent for. Browning, King 6c Co., Merchant Tailor, N. Y. Suits *12 up; Overcoats $12 up; Pants $4. r it and Workmanship Guaranteed. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott s Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. EPH. H. MINNIGH, Manufacturer, Wholesale and Retail Dealer in Confectionery and Ice Cream. Oysters in Season. News Depot and Subscription Agency. Sole manufacturer of Dr. Tyler's Cough Drops. flain St., Gettysburg:, Pa. EDGAR 5. MARTIN, .Fine CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. JOHN H. MINNIGH, Confectionery «*- lee Cream: Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. .COLLEGE OP. Physicians and Surgeons BALTIMORE, flD. TIT The College of Physicians and Surgeons of Baltimore, Maryland, is a well equipped school. Four sessions are required for graduation. For full information send for the annual catalogue, or write to THOMAS OPIE, M. D., Dean. Cor. Calvert & Saratoga Sts. .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. VIII. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1899. No. 1 Editor-in-Chief. J. FRANK HEILM AN, '00. Assistant Editors. LUTHER A. WEIGLE, '00. SAMUEL VAN ORMER, '01. Alumni Editor. REV. F. D. GARLAND. Business Manager. JOHN K. HAMACHER. Assistant Business Manager. CLARENCE MOOE. Advisory Board. PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M. D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD. D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price One Dollar a year in advance, single copies Ten Cents. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. THE OLD CAMPUS. HE was old. The snows of sixty winters had silvered the raven locks of sixty years ago. His figure tall and erect showed scarcely any signs of his four decades. Yet the expression of those sad brown eyes had hidden in them an experience rich and varied. The secrets, that those firm lips had guarded, surely were worthy of so kind and noble a character. But interest, sym-pathy, even love could not rob that soul of its hidden secret. The story of his life as known by his associates was without the touch of a romance. His parents having died when he was young, he was educated by his relatives. His course at College was very ordinary, with exception of a great interest in athletics. He was not exceptionally bright and did not graduate among the first ten of his class. There suddenly developed within him after his graduation a strong determination to make a name for himself in his profession. Then there was exhibited the strength of his will and ability. Gradually he rose until he stood at the head of GETTYSBURG COLLEGE LIBRARY GETTYSBURG, PA. |U,olM THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. his profession. Now, however, after having attained this much desired position there seemed to influence him, not that former spirit of determination but rather a mechanical direction of his powers to a certain end. He was never married and his life seemed to be very lonely. A peculiar fondness however for a small boy, whom he had employed about his office, grew up within him. The boy was sent to College and each year, as his strange benefactor came to visit him, a stronger bond united them. So then we can understand the feelings of these two men as they stood together upon the Old Campus on the eve of the young man's graduation day. It was early evening. A gentle breeze was playing among the the leaves of the trees. Sometimes they seemed to whisper of the days of happiness that were passed beneath their shade and then suddenly a low wail of sadness issued as a moan from their shadowy depths. To our two hearers the}' brought different feelings. Yet they had one desire in common and it was to unfold to each other the thoughts stirring for supremacy within them. The younger man was full of glad expectancy. All the world lay before him in which he might achieve great deeds. No longer would he be bound by the narrow circles of college walls and authority, but he would now be able to take his place among men. Everything would be sacrificed until he attained his high-est ambition. Life was long and sweet. He would make the most of it. The older man listened to his companion's enthusiastic re-marks with fast dimming eyes. After the youth had ceased speak-ing the older man said, "Listen my boy to the story I have to tell, and if you can profit by any of its lessons, do so. Men have called me morose and perhaps they are right. Women have said that I am heartless but they know not the depth of my love. Years ago I entered this institution with all the future spread in a glittering expanse before me. I was by no means a hard stu-dent. I was however an ardent lover of all kinds of sport. My means were limited so that I was not among the richer class of boys. My life passed along in its ordinary course until my com-mencement week—and then a change so sudden, so vast burst upon me that even to this day words fail to express it. I was playing on our ball team. How vividly it all comes back to me to-night, as though it were but yesterday. It was the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 3 last inning with the score a tie. Was it chance that enabled me then to be the means of winning the game for our team? I do not know. But as the boys were carrying me from the field, my attention was called to a group of ladies who wished to congrat-ulate me. Suffice it, my boy, that among that group there was one, whose modest appreciation of my chance was more wel-come to me than the compliments of all the others. That night, just a few decades ago, I walked with her under these same old shade trees, which to-night whisper their sweet old secrets to me. Then I learned for the first time that my ideal of womanhood was approaching reality. I can but marvel at the depth of thought and feeling, at the richness of mind and intel-lect which existed in so beautiful a form. My child, words to-night are inadequate to express my feelings as they were then. I said farewell with the intention of realizing all the possibilities of her ideal of manhood. It was a chance acquaintance but it influenced my life. I entered the bustle of the busy world and was amply re-warded for my labors. But the originator of all my strongest ambitions and the shaper of my character had passed from my life altogether. For years I tried to trace her but all in vain. Then my profession seemed to lose its former glamour and I grew more reticent. I thought that so many years ago it might be but a passing fancy for the fair girl by my side, but all the years of my life since, have shown me the wonderful depth of my love and affection. So sacred has her memory been to me, that never would I enter society, and so have been misunderstood. I tell you this because you are the only one in all this wide world whose affection I believe is mine. To-night after long years of separation, I met her brother. He told me of her beautiful, con-secrated life. Numerous as were her suitors, she rejected them all. Could it have been possible that she cared for me, and I missed my happiness by delay? Those swaying leaves, which whisper to you in the fulfillment of your fondest dreams, murmur to me in an undertone, that she loved me as I loved her, with all the wealth of our new-born affections. Such are the memories that rise within me upon this dear old Campus to-night. Could these trees tell the tales that they have heard, could those rooms in yonder dormitory re-echo the thoughts of their many occupants, then truly could they reveal t THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. : secrets more joyous and perhaps more sad than mine. Go forth, my boy, and meet the world with that bright smile of yours. Keep that pure spirit untainted by any wrong to your fellowmen and God. But remember, by the moral of my life, this lesson, New hope may bloom, and days may come of milder, calmer beam, But there's nothing- half so sweet in life, as love's young- dream. —S. W. H., '99. EXTRACTS FROM "HONOR IN STUDENT LIFE." A WISE college president recently declared, after an outbreak of rowdyism in his college. I am of the opinion that unless the common tenden-cies toward irresponsible conduct in college life are checked, parents will begin to doubt whether it is best to send their chil-dren to college. The older I grow the more deeply I feel that it is the duty of all people charged with any responsibility for the guidance of youth to co-operate with all others having any share in that responsibility, to the end that the young may make the most of themselves. I know of nothing which would contribute to that end more largely than to require them to respect others and the established institutions of their country. I would permit the largest freedom of individual action, on the assumption that it would be within legitimate bounds. I would not only tolerate, but I would sympathize with, and, when agreeable to them, I would join with young people in all activities in which they may properly engage. The theory upon which university authorities commonly ab-solve themselves from all responsibility for offenses committed by students away from university grounds or not in the immediate presence of the faculty, is a very convenient one, but, in my judgment, it is a very unsound one. And they are particularly charged with doing all that in them lies to help parents attain the higher ends for which they sacrifice much in order to send their children to college. It is sad to see the extent to which college students think it unmanly for them to reveal the gravest offenses committed by their associates, and even to lie in order to shield them. Tattling about ordinary shortcomings, or any of the small affairs of college life, is to be scorned. But when an offense stains the character t^mmmmmmmaammm THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ofan institution and violates the law of the state, the time has come for every true man's hand to be raised against the offender. And student and community sentiment upon this, as upon other matters, must be much influenced by university action or univer-sity indifference. The curse of college morals is a double standard—a shifting for the convenience of the moment, from the character of a respon-sible man to the character of an irresponsible boy. The admini-strative officers accept without question a student's word; they assume that he is a gentleman and that a gentleman does not lie ; if, as happens now and then, he is not a gentleman and does lie, they had rather, nevertheless, be fooled sometimes than be sus-picious always (and be fooled quite as often). Frankly treated, the student is usually frank himself; our undergraduates are, in general, excellent fellows to deal with; yet so much is done for them, so man}' oportunities are lavished on them, that the more thoughtless fail to see the relation of their rights to other people's, and, in the self-importance of early manhood, forget that the world is not for them alone. Students of this kind need delicate handling. They jealously demand to be treated as men, take ad-vantage of the instructors who treat them so, and excuse them-selves on the ground that, after all, they are only boys. This double standard is seen in both theme-copying and sign-stealing. Its moral effect is probably more insidious in the former than in the latter; for whereas persons more or less mendacious pass muster in all society but the best, no decent community outside of college will put up with a thief. In college, both offenses have been tolerated, through the pernicious doctrine, held by some re-pectable persons, that the life of every young man—or at least of every young gentleman—takes in a period of engaging anarchy, during which period almost anything short of murder may be winked at as boys' fun. Fun, and not crime, is doubtless the motive; and the fault is no more in the young men than in those staid citizens who boast their own early escapades, and are con-tent that their sons should behave no better than they did. Yet wherever the blame lies, the real nature of these acts is so plain to anyone, however young, who suffers himself to open his eyes, that the usual slow processes of education may, perhaps, be ef-fectually discarded. I 6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The rolls of our higher institutions contain our selected youth; and it should not be possible to say of them what Bismarck said of the German students, that "one-third destroy themselves by dissipation, one-third wear themselves out by over-work, and the rest govern the country," or as put by a distinguished educator, one-third go to the dogs, one-third to the grave and the rest are the strength of the republic. It is the supreme function if school and college discipline to merge the first two classes into the third —not, as we are all too prone to think, to eliminate or ignore them. The chief end of education should be to transform weak-ness into strength. If in a republic the man must outweigh the majority, then in a deep sense the whole body of our educated youth must outweigh the mass of our people. —JAMES C. MACKENZIE. A PAGE FROM PROF. BREDE'S DIARY. A VIEW from one of the peaks of the Black Forest of the whole chain of the Alps, reaching from Mt. Blanc, 140 miles away, to Tyrol in the east will not soon be forgotten, but the view from the Rigi, on Lake Lucerne, while restricted to the Bernes Alps, has probably no rival in the whole world. But the weather must be propitious. Our party ascended by the Rigi rail-way, which makes you feel as though rising in a balloon, so quickly do lake, and city, and lower hills recede; but as we neared the summit, a cloud enveloped us, a steady mist began to fall, and all hopes of having a view the following morning were apparently shattered. But let the traveler in Switzerland never despair, rise early, make the best of all his time, and carry out his programme, for when he least expects, there will be a rift in the clouds, and as ifby magic touch they will be gathered up, leaving him face to face with some sublime view, such as he had hardly hoped to see. We retired despondent, but rose to witness a glorious sunrise. The whole range of Alpine peaks stood out boldly against the blue sky, but dull and gray, when suddenly here and there a lofty peak, touched by the warm rays of the rising sun, glowed with the rosy hue of life. The snow-clad mountains, though the nearest was twenty miles away, seemed so near as to make one think the voice could reach them. The view to the south was bounded by this wall of Alpine peaks, to the west were the rugged outlines of the MMnonmaM THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. j Tura, while northward one hundred miles away, the outlines of the Vosges and Black Forest peaks could be traced, and to the east the Suabian and Bavarian ranges ; cities, towns, and villages were visible without number; the great lakes of Lucerne lay close at our feet in wonderful hues of emerald, blue, and purple, while at a greater distance on every side appeared other well-known lakes. From Lucerne we may explore the lake, or rather the series of lakes, and pass the places made illustrious by Schiller's drama of Wilhelm Tell. At Fluelen we take the railroad and pass, within the next hour, through the finest scenery of the whole St. Goth-ard route, climbing the mountains, winding about in looping tunnels, until it is utterly impossible to be certain of the direction. At the town of Geshenen we are near the head of the valley, and after seven miles of tunnel through the St. Gothard we speed along the banks of the Tessino to the shores of Lake Maggiore and the plains of Northern Italy. If we leave the railway at Geshenen, however, and go a-foot along the turbulent Reuss a few miles farther, we shall come to a wall of rock which the stream has pierced for itself—the Hole of Uri—and where the road has emerged from a tunnel, we hardly know whether to be-lieve our eyes, for before us opens a charming plain shut in on all sides by lofty mountains, this is the valley of Andermatt, and we are here at one of the most interesting points in the Alps. To our left, that is to the east, a road in sweeping curves climbs the mountain over the tunnel, which in a few hours would take us to the sources of the Rhine; opposite, a few miles along a similar road takes us over the Gothard Pass to the Rhone glacier. This rises in terraces a distance of six miles, and seems like an immense frozen cataract, while from beneath it rushes a lusty stream, the Rhone. HENRY LOUIS BAUGHER. ON the founding of Pennsylvania College in 1832, Rev. Henry L- Baugher—the father of our Prof. Baugher—was elected Professor of Greek, being transferred to the Presi-dency of the college in 1850, he continued his valuable services to the college and the church until his death, April 14, 1868. The third son of President Baugher, Henry Louis, was born August 6, 1840, and entered the Preparatory School of the college 3 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. in 1850, graduating with honor in 1857, being assigned the Greek Oration. During the next two years he taught in the schools of Uniontown, Md., Quakertown, Pa., and Washington, D. C, and in 1859-60 in the Preparatory School of Pennsylvania College. In i860, he was in the office of the Sergeant-at-Arms of the United States House of Representatives. During this troubled period in National affairs his duties required various journeys to the border and southern states. The year's 1860-1863 were spent in studies in the Theological Seminaries at Gettysburg and Andover. In 1863 he was licensed as a minister, serving for the next year as co-pastor with Rev. S. B. Barnitz in "Home Mission Work" at Wheeling, W. Va. From 1864-7 he was pastor of the Lutheran church at Norris-town, Pa. On leaving this charge he spent six months in travel in Europe, returning to take charge of the pastorate at Indian-apolis, Ind. From this work he was elected in 1868, about four months after the death of his father, President Baugher, to the Professorship of Greek Language and Literature in Pennsylvania College, entering on his new and congenial duties January 1, 1869; he continued in the professorship till 1880, when he resigned to enter the active ministry. At this time his Alma Mater in recog-nition of his services and abilities conferred on him the honor-ary degree of Doctor of Divinity. He served the Kountze Memorial congregation at Omaha, Neb., during the year 1880-1, when he returned to Gettysburg. After a short interval he was elected Professor of Greek in Howard University, Washington, D. C, serving in this position 1882-3. In x883 he was again elected Professor of Greek in Pennsylvania College, continuing till June 1896, thus completing twenty-five years of teaching service in his Alma Mater. During the periods he was teaching in the college, he also temporarily filled positions in the faculty of the Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, teaching New Testament Exegesis, 1870-4, and Sys-tematic Theology, 1883-4. For a number of years he was Vice- President of the alumni association of the college and served as chairman of the obituary committee. In 1874 when Dr. F. W. Conrad established the Augsburg Sunday School Teacher, he selected Prof. Baugher to prepare the lesson comments. On the transfer in 1875 of this publication, to the Lutheran Publication Society, Prof. Baugher was elected edi- ■H THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY tor of the Augsburg Series of Sunday School Lesson Helps—con-tributing the lesson comments and preparing the questions and aids given in the Scholar's Quarterly, continuing in this posi-tion till January i, 1894. He was a member of the International Sunday School Lesson Committee, from 1879 to 1897; and of the Board of the Lutheran Publication Society, 1877-1880. He was a trustee of Carthage College 18 80-1, and at the time of his death a director of the Theological Seminary at Gettysburg, hav-ing been continued in this position from his first election in 1889. Dr. Baugher was elected President of the General Synod in 1895, and of the Luther League of Pennsylvania, in 1896. In 1897 he was chosen editor of the Lutheran World, resigning this position in 1898, he was quietly residing in Gettysburg, having declined several pastorates and a Professorship in the Theological School of the United Synod of the South. During recent months his health failed rapidly, and he passed into rest at Philadelphia, at 10.30 P. M., February 11, 1899. Dr. Baugher was frequently elected by the West Pennsylvania Synod as a member of the General Synod. He served his Dis-trict Synod and the General Synod on many important commit-tees, he was a member of the committee which prepared Augs-burg Songs, Number One; chairman of the committee 011 the De-velopment of Luther's Smaller Catechism ; was for many years a member of the committee of Beneficiary Education of West Pennsylvania Synod ; a member of the Executive Committee of the Parent Education Society, and at the time of his death a member of the committee on revision of Hymns of the Book of Worship. The publications of Dr. Baugher consist of his editorial work. Numerous contributions to the church papers, several articles in the Lutheran Quarterly and the volume on the Gospel by Luke in the series of Lutheran Commentaries. April 3, 1872, Prof. Baugher was married to Miss Ida Smith, of York, Pa., who with one daughter, Miss Bessie, survive to la-ment a loving husband and father. The strong personality of Dr. Baugher was felt in every rela-tion in which he was placed, having strong convictions in the many matters in which he was interested, his urgency and forci-bleness in advocacy of his views always commanded attention and respect. In all public utterances as a preacher, teacher and writer IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. he was clear and impressive. As a teacher he was enthusiastic and deeply concerned for the welfare of his pupils. As a churchman he was interested in all Christian work—but specially in all things Lutheran—in her institutions, her missions, her theology. He was an advocate of central, responsible gov-ernment in the church and a leader in the recent movement for a more uniform and more extended liturgical service. He was strongly desirous of a union among the various Lutheran bodies in the United States, believing this could be attained by a con-formity to certain views as to historical Lutheran Theology. The large number of persons who had been attracted to Dr. Baugher in warm friendship will miss his genial company and his sympathetic interest in their welfare. —E. S. B. A COMPILED THANATOPSIS. "Pallida Mors aeguopulsatpedepauperum tabernas Regumque turris." THUS Horace (Odes I. 4, 13,) tells us that "Pallid Death with impartial tread at the hovels poor does knock and at palaces of kings," and echoes Solomon's words (Ecc. 3:20,) then centuries old, "All go unto one place; all are of the dust and all turn to dust again." Death above all others is impartial, laying low rich and poor, young and old. Nor does he long warn, nor is the day well known. Alfred Tennyson beautifully expresses this in the sixth poem of "In Memoriam:"— O father, wheresoe'er thou be, Who pledgest now thy gallant son, A shot, ere half thy draught be done, Hath stilled the life that beat from thee. O mother, praying God will save Thy sailor,—while thy head is bow'd, His heavy-shotted hammock-shroud Drops in his vast and wandering grave. Ye know no more than I who wrought At that last hour to please him well ; Who mused on all I had to tell, And something written, something thought. HMMMHriH I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. II Expecting- still his advent home : And ever met him on his way With wishes, thinking-, here to-day, Or 'here to-morrow—will he come.' O somewhere, meek, unconscious dove, That sittest ranging golden hair ; And glad to find thyself so fair, Poor child, that waitest for thy love ! For now her father's chimney glows In expectation of a guest; And thinking 'this will please him best,' She takes a riband or a rose. For he will see them on to-night; And with the thought her color burns; And, having left the glass, she turns Once more to set a ringlet right. And, even when she turn'd, the curse Had fallen, and her future lord Was drown'd in passing: through the ford, Or kill'd in falling from his horse. "In an hour when thou thinkest not," thus he comes as Juvenal also shows (Sat. Ill, 261-267) in telling of the death of a father while his household was preparing for him the cena. We translate the passage in verse as follows:— * * Now his household secure the pans and the dishes Wash already, and kindle the hearth-flame by puffing their cheeks up, Flesh-scrapers oily they clatter, in placing by oil-flask the towels. These things among the slaves are hastened variously, but he Sits already upon the bank, as a newcomer hateful Charon he dreads, nor hopes for the boat of the muddy, dark river In his unhappiness, nor has the coin in his mouth there to offer. "The young may die and the old must," we, too, all say, yet feel an added pang when Death takes the life while in the bud or when its first soft petals are opening. He claims this right how-ever, says Longfellow in "The Reaper and the Flowers :" There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath. And the flowers that grow between. "Shall Ihave nought that is fair ?" saith he; "Have nought but the bearded grain ?" 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Even more than we, the ancients felt this sad fate. They thought the old ought to die, and in their unmitigated selfishness urged them to die in behalf of the young when their death was necessary and even slandered them for not doing it. Just such a case occurred when, in behalf of King Admetus after all others re-fused, his dear wife, Alcestis, endured the pangs of death. Then when Pheres, the father of Admetus, brought love-tokens for the last rites and ceremonies he was met with some such gauling, shameful words as these from his son (The Alcestis of Euripides, vv. 629-672),—"Neither do you come to this funeral-feast invited by me, nor do I count your presence among the friends. These adornments of yours she shall never put on ; for she shall not be buried having any need of these your gifts. You ought then to have sympathized when /was just perishing. But you, who stood aside and let another die and she a young lady although you were an old man, do you bewail this death? Indeed you were not truly the father of this body, nor did she, alleging to have borne me and called my mother, bear me. * * Most certainly you ex-ceed all others in soullessness, you who, although being so far advanced in years and having come to the limit of life, were not willing nor had the heart to die in behalf of your son, but together with my mother let this strange woman die. * * Short for you at all events was the remaining time worth living; and I and she might have lived the remaining time, and I being left alone should not have bemoaned my misfortunes. * * But in vain are old men willing to die, finding fault with old age and a long period of life." Compare also Juvenal, Satire X, vv. 246-247. "The Stoics," said Bacon, "bestowed too much cost upon death, and by their great preparations made it appear more fear-ful." Yet how have men approached death, how should we ap-proach it? The ancient looked with greatest dread upon death. Alcestis died in a mad frenzy, heightened by Admetus' grief for his loss. Then too, it was very necessary that they die feeling as-sured of Horace's thought as found in his Odes I. 28, 36 : * * * licebit Injecto ter pulvere curras. How the old customs remain ! Thus died the ancient Greek but Juvenal again has something better. Among the things that man should desire above all others, above pleasures of time and THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 13 sense, he names a strong resolve, void of the fear of death, that reckons the closing period of life among the boons of nature. Fortem posce animum, mortis terrore carentem Qui spatium vitae extremum inter munera ponat Naturae. * * Sat. X. 3S7-3S9. Yet we would rather hear Bryant's injunction : Go thou * * "not like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dung-eon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering- trust, approach thy grave Like one who wrappes the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." We all would know that '' the spirit shall return unto God who gave it," (Ecc. 12 : 7), and that as Milton says,— Weep no more woeful Shepherds, weep no more, For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead, Sunk though he be beneath the watery floor ; So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed, And yet anon repairs his drooping head, And tricks his beams, and with new spangled ore Flames in the forehead of the morning sky. So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, Thro' the dear might of him that walk'd the waves, Where other groves and other streams along, With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, And hears the unexpressive nuptial song. In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love, There entertain him all the saints above, In solemn troops, and sweet societies, That sing, and singing in their glory move, And wipe the tears forever from his eyes. Or as Jesus said of the maid, "she is not dead but sleepeth." —C c. G., '00. THY SPEECH BEWRAYETH THEE. Long years ago, one doleful night By pallid light of taper's dim, Our Savior faced a lawless trial Before the Sanhedrim. And while it took its course, there stood Behind the pillars of the court, A bosom friend, who now disowned A knowledge of his Lord. H THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "I do not know the man," he said, With lying- and stentorian lip ; And e'en denied with cursing tongue, His own discipleship. But all his cursings went for naught, They would not listen to his plea ; A damsel stepping forth declared : "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." Ah, truant man ! art thou surprised, When through thy polished surface peer The deadly vices of thy heart, And conscience hard and seer ? Art thou surprised because thy word Is disbelieved by friend and foe ; While those of lesser learning find A fertile soil to grow ? Be not confused as to its cause, It is not difficult to see ; For, while thy culture hides the stain, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." Thy smooth exterior may conceal The fount of stench that lies within, But through the labial orifice Will gush the streams of sin. Thou canst not hide from critic man The full abundance of thy heart; For out of it, the mouth we're told, Its issues will impart. Like as the pendulum, which makes From side to side its measured peace, So does the tongue of man explain The works behind the face. It is the signet of our God Upon his human beings placed, And gives them sure ascendancy O'er all beneath them based. If used with love, it yields a balm More healing than on Gilead grew, And will restore the saddest heart To life and health anew. When used against a wicked foe From Satan's vast and mighty horde, It's finer than Damascus steel, And sharper than a sword. IHMHHIIi^H THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 15 But rest assured, when secret sins, Their taints upon the owner leave, His tong-ue will not belie his state, His lips will not deceive. Ah ye, with records yet unstained By baneful blots of sin and doubt, Be sure before you step awry, Your sins will find you out. And thou with vain deceitful heart, Which thine own maker best can see ; Remember that by man thou'rt known, "Thy speech bewrayeth thee." —J. B. BAKER, 1900. THE FAVORITE SPORT OF ROME. THE favorite form of athletic amusement of every nation is usually characteristic of its populace. The United States has her "baseball," England her "cricket," and Germany her "bowling,"—games showing a tendency in these nations to encourage that which will develop strength of body and alertness of mind for the purpose of performing the duties and enjoying the blessings of life. Russia's great love for fast driving indicates the excitable natures of her people. The occupation of the "kite-fly-ing" Chinaman well portrays his sluggishnes of both mental and bodily action. Until recently "bull-fighting'' was the chief amuse-ment of the Spanish, whose bloodthirsty and treacherous nature is evidenced by the delight with which the spectators behold such torture as is inflicted upon each other by the matador and his mad-dened antagonist. And just as modern nations have their characteristic muscular pursuits, so also had the ancient nations. Greece and Rome both attained to great excellency in the sports of the arena. But the character of the games of each betrays the difference in the char-acters of the two peoples. The Grecian government endeavored to increase the love of its subjects for such sports as foot and chariot-racing, boxing, wrestling, discus-throwing, and such other friendly contests as would increase not only physical strength, but that grace and perfect form of body for which the Grecians were noted. But Rome, on the other hand, fitted her youths only for military service, forgetting to pay atttention to human grace and i6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. beauty. For she committed the serious error of adding to her en-nobling and health-producing sports that of the' 'gladiatorial show.'' This institution had its origin about two centuries and a half before Christ, when two young men arranged a series of mortal combats at the burial of their father, a prominent Roman. They believed the spirits of the departed delighted in the shedding of blood. These combats were called a ' 'gladiatorial show,'' and the combatants "gladiators;" that is, "sword fighters." For many years these contests took place only at funerals, the deceased often having willed a sum sufficient to defray the expenses of the show. L,ater, they were held in the "Circus Maximus" of the "Forum" at Rome ; but as these places were inadequate, amphitheatres were built especially for the purpose. Of these amphitheatres, the most nearly perfect one extant is that at Rome, called the ''Coliseum.'' It is an elliptical structure consisting of many rows of marble seats built in tiers, to a height of over one hundred and fifty feet. The space in the centre, called the "arena," where the contests were held is also elliptical, and over two hundred and eighty feet long. The Coliseum is still com-plete enough for us to observe how magnificent it formerly must have been, when it had so many dens for holding animals to be slain, so many attendants, such beautiful decorations, cushioned seats to accommodate eighty-seven thousand spectators, and its arena large enough for ten thousand participants and large enough when flooded with water to hold many war-ships. This building has since been damaged by lightning and by being used as a for-tress in time of war and a quarry in time of peace, several large palaces have been built of the marble taken from it. The Coliseum has been called one of the "seven wonders of the world." Those who fought in the arena ofthis amphitheatre were formerly slaves who were condemned to die, or malefactors who were allowed to earn their liberty by fighting. But later, Roman citi-zens and even senators went into the arena. Commodius the Ro-man Emperor fought in a contest. These gladiators, however, did not enter combats without training. For this purpose they had schools or gymnasiums where they were trained in a similar manner to that in which gymnasts are to-day trained, and their diet was regulated just as the diet of our modern football players is regulated. But unlike our practice, everything was done at the schools to increase brutality and thirst for blood. Before entering THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 17 here each gladiator was obliged to take an oath, which lowered him to the rank of a slave as long as he remained there. From this fact arose the rebellion of Spartacus, which threatened for a time to overthrow the Roman Empire. For, fifty-seven gladiators, escaping from a school, took him for leader, and with the help of other slaves conquered almost the whole of Italy. Crassus, how-ever, came to the rescue of his state by defeating Spartacus. So, the show-bills being posted and the gladiators so well pre-pared for their dreadful work, the contest began. The person giving the show, or "editor," held a place of honor at the middle of one side of the arena. The combatants entered from doors at the sides. Animals to be slain were raised by elevators from their dens beneath the seats and urged into the arena. The men fought each other in different manners and with different arms. Some wore full suits of armor, frequently without eye-holes, to amuse the spectators with their ill-aimed thrusts. Some were entirely naked and carried swords. Others were on horseback and often pairs of men fought against each other. The chariot combats were very exciting. A noose was sometimes used by one gladiator to catch another. But the most interesting was the con-test between those who carried the net, tridens, and dagger, the first to entangle an opponent and the last two to kill him when caught in the net. Having cast the net and failed, the gladiator would be obliged to retreat to a corner and try to gain time in which to readjust his net for another throw, at the same time warding off the blows of his antagonist. When a gladiator was overpowered, whether he should live or be killed was determined by the wishes of the spectators. If he had fought nobly, they held up their thumbs, and he was set at liberty, If not, thumbs were turned down and he was put to death. Unlike the Greeks, besides the customary wreath ofpalms, they presented prize money to the conqueror. With the abolishment of such barbarous practices ended the greatest of the degrading influences upon the Roman mind. By these practices the people were fast becoming idle, lazy, licen-tious, and dangerous, and when Spartacus needed persons to carry out his plans, he found them among that class of people who were habitual attendants at the gladiatorial show, a class whom the Roman government had unwisely been feeding and furnishing with free amusement. Such was their desire for games THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. that they cried in the streets, "Give us bread for nothing and games forever!'' With the discontinuance of such sport came a lessening of im-purity in politics. It cost at that time about thirty-five thousand dollars for an office-seeking politician to give a show respectable enough to bring him popularity and votes. Such a sum very few men could afford to spend, and so in order to obtain such re-sources they were obliged to practice extortion upon their poor rural tenants, and to undermine the Roman government by profit-able intrigue in the city. The effects of such an institution as the gladiatorial show cause us to be glad that in our times and in our nation there are no such abominable practices to be done away with, no athletic sports that degrade to such an extent as did this Roman folly. Truly, the character of a nation may be known by the character of its athletic pursuits. c^, -D. C. B. '01. "THE CULTIVATION OF THE DRAMATIC." 1. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS.—2. THE EXTENT TO WHICH IT IS CULTIVA-ATED.— 3. ITS INFLUENCE UPON SOCIETY.—4. REMARKS ON AMATEUR PLAYERS.—5. SHOULD WE TRY TO CULTIVATE THE SPIRIT.—6. CON-CLUSION. THE drama is one of the most interesting and instructive productions of the Literary Art. Its origin dates back to the ancient Greeks and Romans. A large portion of their literature is connected withthedrama. In its two forms, comedy and tragedy, it covers a large range of subjects. It seems to have grown up naturally with the people; and while it has changed somewhat from the original, yet in its fundamental principles and meaning it is still the same. The drama represents the pursuits and events of daily life, and when these are studied, and acted, they are made the more interesting, because they are then brought more vividly before the mind. We may inquire now : "To what extent is the dramatic spirit cultivated at the present time? " I cannot say whether or not it is cultivated as much now as it was many years ago ; but it cer-tainly is cultivated to a large extent. We are continually receiv-ing new plays, which rank well with the older ones, although they differ from them in some respects. Such plays as those of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 19 Shakespeare, Goldsmith and others, will never lose their place in literature. They are being played everywhere by the best pro-fessional troupes. During the winter months especially, the theaters are crowded, and people will go again and again to hear these plays. Many of the magazines give long accounts of the stage, including descriptions of the most famous actors, and an ex-planation of the plays that have been, or will be, given. It is evident that the people have not lost their love for the drama, which still holds a high place in literature. Some people are very bitterly opposed to the stage and will not allow any of their children even to see a play. They have some very good reasons to think as they do. In the early history of the drama, the highest classes of people took part in it. But later, many disreputable people went into the plays, and to-day we have troupes made up of that class. It is not to be wondered then, that many people are opposed to the stage. But in every profession we find people with whom we would not associate. Although the stage is a profession which I would not think of choosing, yet it is a profession that many very excellent people choose, and who attain to high hon-ors. There is a class of plays which have a demoralizing effect and these plays should not be exhibited. Besides the number of professional troupes, we have a number of amateur players. Almost all the colleges and smaller institu-tions have their dramatic associations. This has been done re-cently by many of the colleges. It seems to be a necessity, and both the students and friends of the institutions, take a great deal of interest in them. They give plays at home and in neighboring places, and some of them have been doing excellent work. Our association is just in its childhood, and it is making earn-est efforts to rise. It started about two years ago with but a few members and has kept on increasing until at this time it has reached a number which is able to do some good work. There seems to be a great interest taken in it, and it will not be long, if we do hard and faithful work, until we will rank well with the other colleges. This is something which should be of interest to all students, because, as some go out of the association when they are gradu-ated from college, others will then be ready to go in. s 20 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. But we say, "what is the necessity of cultivating the dra-matic?" It is of the utmost importance, for several reasons. Here one receives instructions which he cannot get as well any-where else. It is a splendid cultivation of the voice, because one is re-quired to articulate distinctly; otherwise the audience would lose interest. Then in order to become successful actors, every movement must be studied, so that we may be graceful and pleasing. We must get into the spirit of the play, and study it carefully be-fore we can render it correctly. It also gives one ease and grace in the society of others. Not every one has the ability to become a good actor, but those who have, should cultivate and use it. This is a part of our education as well as anything else. Plato says: "A good education is that which gives to the body and soul, all the beauty and all the perfection of which they are capable." Those who are studying to be successful actors, should al-ways remember that "they are playing/or the audience and not to them. They make a part of a living picture." We must for-get ourselves, so to speak, and enter into the plays withheartand mind. We shall have reached an advanced stage of development when we are able to please our audience. **&> CONCERNING THE INHABITANTS OF PORTO RICO. FOUR centuries of Spanish civilization seem to have done little for the uplifting of the primitive race of Porto Rico. Spain gave the island nothing, but took all. She pretended to administer a government, which was both arbitrary and despotic, with no thought of other than her own interest; but she demanded and required for this both the liberty and the land of the people. She corrupted their simple life and taught them vice and crime. It was seldom that they murmured. They endured their fate with scarcely a hope. They were more than long-suffering and patient. So that when a better day began to dawn, they were scarcely ready to realize it. But when the fullness of time had come and the Cas-tilian banner of oppression was forced to retire to make way for •Mam THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 21 the hallowed emblem of liberty, there was not found one to shed a tear, but a multitude to cry from the very depth of their hearts " Viva Americano." I never shall forget how an intelligent, gray-haired citizen of Ponce, with tears in his eyes, tears of honest joy, but several days after the surrender of that city, told me how seemingly impossible it was for him to believe that what he saw, was real ; then he told me how, when he was a child, he had been taught to cherish a hope of freedom and to look toward the United States for it. And how he had instilled that same doctrine of love of freedom into the minds of his own sons; and now how at last in a single night, when it was not expected, it had all come to pass,—the hope of ages realized. It was all like a dream to him, could it be and was it really true,—had God indeed heard their secret prayers ? And the tears trinkled down his careworn face. Nor less impressive to me is this instance, that when a school boy, fifty years ago, Mr. Rivera, (late one of the secretaries of the new autonomic govern-ment granted the island by the Sagasta ministry) should have written a poem, one stanza of which, translated, is that "Someday the great Eagle of Liberty from the north shall swoop down upon this island, and bear away the monstrous brute bleeding in his talons." And it was, strange as it may seem, Mr. Rivera's re-ward to have the honor as well as the privilege to be among the first Porto Ricans to swear his allegiance to that country in the North from which in time the "Eagle of Liberty" came. We might go on and multiply instances to show how the love of the Porto Ricans for our flag and nation ever manifested itself; we might continue to tell of mothers, who have brought their chil-dren miles that they might only see the flag of the free, and how reverently their daughters have tenderly caressed and kissed its folds, how also on the field of battle men and women have followed that flag with water for our famished soldiers, but are these not sufficient for the credulous ? But who are these inhabitants of Porto Rico ? They are of two classes, viz., the rich and the poor. The rich own the land and the poor live on it. The rich are of Spanish descent, and the poor are descended from the aborigines and the negro slaves, but still the rightful owners of the soil. The poor are indeed very poor and the rich very few. The poor were too poor and the rich too few to promote any enterprise of particular consequence upon I 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. ■ the island ; so that the condition of the people under the Spanish regime was most deplorable in every phrase. The little capital that did manifest itself upon the island was largely from without. For the few rich, who did by chance pos-sess any means beyond their land, were fearful to invest; because a successful business was only so much plunder for the unscrupu-lous agents of the so-called government. Thus were the inhabi-tants by the very nature of their government driven to and held in a condition solely dependent on the product of the soil. There-fore in the soil lay the hidden wealth of the island beyond the reach of the Spanish vandal. And it was a great wealth ; for a benign Providence had made the island rich and fertile. I '00. EDITOR'S DESK. THE late staff of the MERCURY has done work worthy of Get-tysburg, and we cannot let the members of the staff pass from service without thanking them, in the name of the friends of the MERCURY, for their sincere, hard work. During the last year they surmounted disheartening obstacles and have given into the charge of the new staff, a paper which ranks with the best college publications in the state. The present editors and business managers take pride in controlling the GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 27 The committee in charge of the annual parade did not forget Washington—they simply remembered the blizzard. The condi-tion of the streets on the 22nd, proved the good judgment of the committee. As for the town youngsters who, had the parade been held, very likely would have caused some trouble, there is a gen-eral understanding in college, that the baseball and football men assisted by all other students, keep the youngsters where they be-long during the games on Nixon Field. We are glad to know that the parade was missed, for the celebration of Washington's birthday by a parade is an annual event of Gettysburg which cus-tom has made dear. During the recent blizzard, Gettysburg was practically cut off from the rest of the world ; but college work went on. It was not an uncommon thing, while the trees on the campus were wrestling with the raging storm, to see the form of some student or professor, bent at an angle of 45° to withstand the blasts, slowly wending his way over the pathless plain toward Recitation Hall, which, be-cause of the blinding sheets of snow, appeared in dim outline. Occasionally refractory hats would leave their accustomed places and accompany the gale; these would be hotly pursued by the owners, and sometimes by words "that would never do to tell." The storm passed by. Snow plows were welcomed at the de-pots, and mail trains were eagerly awaited, and when they came, many letters, long delayed, caused good cheer to return to the despondent hearts of numerous students. Soon the pavements of the town were cleared, leaving long channels through the deep snow ; and in due time we were permitted to walk on the concrete (?) avenues of the campus. On the evening of Feb. 21, Mr. Beck, a Lutheran missionary from Siberia, delivered an address to the students of Seminary. All pronounced the address interesting and highly profitable. On the afternoon of the following day, Mr. Beck gave a short but in-teresting talk to the "Volunteer Band" of college. The plain, child-like manners of Mr. Beck are a sure testimony to the nobility of his character. —,Ji:i,LJ.L:lii±i!li±LilJ^. 28 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The staff is highly gratified at the readiness with which the contributors of this issue, offered their productions. We notice in college, a perceptible increase of what we might term, "literary-courage. '' Until last year our students were timid about publish-ing their work because they hesitated to face the guying of their fellow students. Now, however, no one is guyed for an honest attempt in the literary line, but he is rather commended by all for his "good work." Although some articles published by the MERCURY from time to time may not be the very best, the editors desire to publish them for the much needed encouragement of literary work. Heretofore the MERCURY has published home talent in preference to other, and the present staff intends to pursue the same course. As for this issue, although there was but a week to prepare it—we have endeavored to turn out a GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The late trip of the College Musical Clubs was an exceedingly pleasant one in more ways than one. Despite the bad weather, which interfered materially with the audiences, the boys express themselves as having the most enjoyable trip in the memory of any man on the club, and all are loud in the praises of the yonng ladies they met in the different towns of the Cumberland Valley. The college girls especially seemed to appeal to these college boys of ours. There is a quick twinkle of pleasure in every man's eye when Irving is mentioned. By far the best concert of the trip was given there, and it certainly must have been the inspira-tion of so many charming hostesses that enchanted the boys, even to the extent of falling up the steps, and losing some other fel-low's pennants. Then there was the reception afterwards and chapel the next morning, and finally the matinee in Harrisburg on Saturday, and many large square envelopes at the post-office after the blizzard was over. The Glee Club men will not forget Irving soon, and wish for some pretext to go back this year. We bespeak a big audience for the Irving Club if they ever come to Gettysburg. 'Rah for our sister ! THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 29 KEE MAR RECEPTION. GETTYSBURG has many excellent young people but not enough to go around. As a result many of the college boys fail to secure the social culture they are expected to have when once graduated. A consciousness of this lack of social training added double interest to our anticipations when we as a senior class were invited to Kee Mar college to a reception. Our most sanguine expectations were realized. A warm welcome was extended to us by members of the faculty and students and we soon felt that we were among friends. The spacious halls were decorated with the Maryland colors, and adorned with plants. And while the patter of light feet kept time to the sweet music, other lads and lassies strolled up and down the corridors, or al-lowed cupid to drive them into a secluded spot where the side-long glances of glinting eyes pierced the armor of the hardest heart. Appropriate toasts were given and responded to, refreshments served, when the laughing moon slowly setting warned us to de-part. His warnings were seconded by the college authorities, else some of the boys had been there yet. Saturday morning we college men were invited to a concert given by the College Glee Club. A very few minutes served to show how much easier we felt in this home of the nymphs. Formality was absent. After an extended program of excellent music which charmed us all, the boys from Gettysburg responded with a few impromptu verses and various yells which had a strange echo in those halls. But the unfeeling hands and expressionless face of the clock pointed to the hour of final departure, Kodaks, handkerchiefs, mementoes, were in evidence, and a fierce struggle between love and duty was fought in many hearts. But though the time was too short for one of our number to pay his respects to our land-lord, we all caught the train. It was a long way home, and many fellows have been longing ever since. A reunion is being wished for soon. Some of the crowd see nothing but Kee Mar to this day on every page of every book, while pretty faces are seen even when their eyes are closed. Not a little of the pleasure of the trip was owing to our hav-ing with us Miss Menges, formerly a classmate, now at Irving ; and Miss Welty, our class poet, who, though she never was a boy 3° THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. in all her life, yet gave expression to the common feeling of the boys whose thoughts were too deep to beset down even in poetry. This promises to be the only song sung around here until after June 15. TO KEE MAR. TUNE—"Jnanita." Swift o'er the mountain Speed the boys of ninety-nine, White gleam the snow fields In the bright moon-shine. To fair Kee Mar College Where the lovely maidens dwell,' As the train moves onward Hear the joyous " yell." Kee Mar, lovely Kee Mar, Full of hope we came to thee, Kee Mar, kindly Kee Mar, Thou wilt gracious be. Slow o'er the mountain Back returneth ninety-nine, Each eye a fountain Shedding drops of brine. For some hearts are broken How it happened none can tell, And the word now spoken Is a sad farewell. Kee Mar, lovely Kee Mar, All our heart we leave with thee, Kee Mar, loyal Kee Mar, Ever faithful be. When in our dreaming / Eives again that happy night, We'll catch the gleaming Of those eyes so bright. Hear the low, sweet music, Tread again the stately hall, With the girl we worshiped At the Kee Mar ball. Kee Mar, well-loved Kee Mar, In the years that are to be, Kee Mar, darling Kee Mar, We'll remember thee ! ma THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 31 SUCCESS IN ART. EVERY artist strives for success. But this word "success" admits of several definitions. In the mind of one artist it means money or fame or both; to another, it means a knowl-edge of his art and ability to enjoy it. Success, then, can be true or false. True success in art is attained when art is studied for art's sake and the product is real art. An essential in attain-ing such success is that the artist himself be true. That is he must be "heart, head and hand" an artist. The desire to create is natural, but besides this, knowledge and complete mastery of materials and implements is indispensable. An artist must first be completely grounded in every detail of his art before he should begin to produce. In every trade among artisans, ignorance under this heading is unknown; badly constructed articles of merchan-dise find no market. So it should be in art. Knowledge must be the absolute foundation or else the creation will be as faulty and unbalanced as a house of cards and will fall to pieces at the first shaft of intelligent criticism. In all good works on harmony the very last chapters are reserved for the treatment of composition of melodies. This in itself teaches a lesson, and one which is very evident; it says, "Now after you have the foundation laid you may safely attempt the superstructure." Technique and method guided by intelligence, are absolutely required. Then the successful artist must be industrious, patient, and persevering. We gaze in rapture at a beautiful painting or hear an exquisite piece of music and we forget that back of it all lay a long, steep and toilsome road, tediously climbed. Constant and tiresome was much of the labor. An artist must essentially have what has been called the "artistic temperament"—*. e. imaginative and sympathetic power. Ruskin says, "The qualities which distinctly mark an artist with-out which he must be feeble in life, forgotten in death—with which he may become one of the shakers of earth and one of the signal lights in heaven—are those of sympathy and imagination." Imagination is the strength of all art, of everything beautiful in architecture, sculpture, painting, poetry or music. The Venus of Milo, in all its beauty was seen in the rough marble shaft by the sculptor, long before the releasing chisel touched the stone. And sympathy, too. is necessary in order that the creations should 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. be properly interpreted and understood. So strong should this temperament be in every artist that the artist himself will lose sight of the "ego" in his work, while to others his individuality shines out in every one of his creations. How many engaged in some art have been so eager in anticipation of artistic success that they have forgotten the soul in the wealth of splendid tech-nique they exhibit in their works ! They do not live their art and hence are not true to themselves. Study well any of the classics in literature, painting, sculpture or music and see how easy it is to recognize the productions of the same brain. So every true artist will imprint on each piece of his work a certain indescrib-able something which makes each resemble the other and dis-tinguishes it from the creations of other artists. And then the artist must do his best. No half-hearted attempt will be successful. Simple productions should be attempted at first; nothing elaborate, as for instance, in music, a Grand March or an Overture ought to be undertaken,—but some little theme, well and faithfully worked out. These should be the characteristics of everyone engaged in art; and one of the reasons why this is not so is because so many of the art public do not understand art sufficiently to demand better creations. In the construction of articles used in everyday life, there is no necessity for especial education to detest frauds, it only requires common sense; but with art products, however, it is different entirely. One often meets with highly intelligent people who cannot distinguish between a colorless daub and an original work of art, filled with atmosphere and light. They have not yet educated their eye to see wherein lies the difference; again, we see many who prefer an everyday, popular song, superficial and light, to the beautiful melodies of an Abt, a Schubert, or a Verdi. Education in art is evidently not sufficiently general to enable everyone to make these distinctions. Ignor-ance of beauty of form, or structure, undeveloped imagina-tion, unappreciation of beauty of symmetry are too general. Suc-cessful attempts are being made to remedy this, especially in literature, by the University Extension Movement. People are discovering that they need not necessarily be college graduates to become cultured and appreciate the best. This is a condition, then, for which some allowance can be made but what shall be done for the individual—and he is one of a large family—who IHHH I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 33 I while admitting his ignorance of the principles of art, yet cooly in-forms you that he can "tell a fine painting when he sees it, or a good piece of music when he hears it?" This is the class of peo-ple who open the way for those would-be artists who make "suc-cess" and "money"synonyms. They are both pretenders. The public, eager to be gullied, thinking that money will purchase everything, aims at seeming to be well-versed in art; the artist, with little real knowledge, and less imagination, too insincere and full of pretence to live his own life aims at the money or social position his apparent art productions will procure for him. Each deserves pity. They may gain their respective ends, but neither can ever know the delights of one who has developed a taste for art, or who has consecrated his life to it. They cannot, with all their wealth buy the wholesome, pure and rapturous thrill of delight, for one second, that another can invoke at will from such as Bach, Beethoven, Horace, Shakespeare, Raphael, or Wagner. Success in art, then, cannot be measured by the money one gains; a true artist will live in his art long after millionaires have passed away. Michael Angelo, Dante, and Palestrina still live while the names of their contemporary moneyed men are dead. And let us bear in mind, too, that the road to success is always one of toil and weariness. —P. '00. THE TRIP TO CHAMBERSBURG. ABOUT forty of the boys took advantage of the recent good sleighing and went to Chambersburg to attend a concert given by our Glee and Musical Clubs. The party was divided into three sled loads and got started after an hour's delay in waiting for our Proctor (who decided to accompany us about the time we were ready to start) to get a hair-cut and shave in or-der to be presentable to the sight of the Wilson girls. Soon after leaving Gettysburg it started to snow hard, so we had to break our own road, which soon told on our horses. When we reached the top of the mountain we were informed that we were favored if the horse would be able to get us to Chambersburg that night, much less bring us back. The boys got scared and decided to wade the snow when a steep hill was reached rather than spend the rest of l^uMmmmmmummMwmm 34 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the night so far from friends. All the other sleds, which were lighter, passed us on the mountain except the fourth one, which was a cutter with two freshmen in it. They heard of the fellows going, so the}' went up town and after much persuasion, and many promises in case the horse and sleigh were lost, they started out in pursuit of the other three sleds. The heavy snow covered all traces of a trail, yet by the aid of matches and sign-boards they reached the top of the mountain where the road was rough, the trees close on either side, no full moon to light the way, in fact there was nothing there but a team and two scared freshmen. One was positive that there were bears in the mountain because he knew of one having been shot recently. The other tried to con-vince him that they were perfectly safe so long as they staid in the road, but after a few strange sounds were heard in the woods and a few dark stumps were seen in the direction of the noise, they were both positive of the presence of bears, so they turned and lost no time in getting back home, where they related their ex-perience to their friends. Our last through sled reached its desti-nation after a long six hour's drive. The only amusement on the way over was giving yells, singing songs and telling stories. We went immediately to the concert, where we were greeted by the presence of about thirty Wilson girls who showed their appreci-ation for our yells and songs by their innocent cousinly smiles. After the concert we had supper, a thing we looked forward to after we walked the second steep hill. About 11 p. M. we were informed that it would be impossible for the horses to make the return trip that night. Well, the common topics of conversation among the boys who went financially prepared to return the same night, were as follows: Where are you going to sleep? Have you any money to lend ? Do you have any relatives in town ? And do you think we can stand the proprietor off? It happened that some went prepared to stay a week, so the money soon became equally divided, and the boys spent a pleasant night but by no means a quiet one, if you can believe the report of the proprietor. The next morn-ing we were allowed the privilege of visiting the Wilson College and attending chapel with the girls, a privilege which seemed to be enjoyed mutually, judging by the interest they took in showing us through the college buildings. On our way back the only stop made was at the big hotel on the top of the mountain where we THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 35 did justice to a good dinner. The trip was enjoyed by all who took it and the same crowd could be easily induced to repeat the trip, especially if the Wilson girls were at the other end of the line. —H. M. C. ATHLETICS. THE Sons of Hercules have gotten down to systematic work, and expect to hold their exhibition about the third week in March. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings are devoted to this branch of athletics, basket-ball occupying the floor on other days. A number of old men are candidates, includ-ing Koser, who is leader, Traub, Bottinger, Stock, Straw, Brum-baugh, Smith, Smyser, Jr., and Bickel. These are all men whose work is well-known. Among new men who are showing up well may be mentioned Stock, Jr., McClean, Claney, Koser, W. W. Hartman, Smyser, Jr., and Ketterman. In general, the work is of a high standard and promises a good exhibition. Beside the usual features, it will include this year, boxing and wrestling ; and the programme will also be varied by performances of the glee and mandolin clubs. A game of basket-ball will close the evening, which is certainly one to look forward to with pleasure. There is plenty of good material yet dormant, however. Let every man come out and do his best to make this year's gym team a success. Manager Weigle has completed his schedule for the coming season with the exception of one date. It is as follows: April IS—Franklin and Marshall at Lancaster. April 20—Susquehanna at Selinsgrove. April 21—Bucknell at Lewisburg. April 22—State at State College. April 26—Dickinson at Gettysburg-. May 5—Susquehanna at Gettysburg. May 6—Indians at Carlisle. May 13—Dickinson at Carlisle. May 20 -Franklin and Marshall at Gettysburg. May 27—Indians at Gettysburg. June 3—Open. June 10—Bucknell at Gettysburg. It will be noted that we meet Dickinson again for the first time in five years and other old rivals are on the list. All the teams ^mmmmmmm 36 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. are about our strength and there is no reason why we should not have a successful season. Let every man come out and get down to hard work and we will make the season of '99 one to be re-membered. EDITOR'S SCISSORS. That New Year resolution, Unlike most things of earth, Grows ever small and smaller; It was biggest at its birth.—Ex. HEARD AFTER THE BLIZZARD. " Don't you throw that at me, kid ! " " Gwan, I'll lick the whole college." —W. The boys came over the mountain, The boys came over the mountain, The boys came over the mountain, To see the Wilson girls, To see the Wilson girls, To see the Wilson girls, The boys came over the mountain, The boys came over the mountain, The boys came over the mountain, To see the Wilson girls. We won't go home till morning, We won't go home till morning, We won't go home till morning, For we've seen the Wilson girls, We've seen the Wilson girls, We've seen the Wilson girls, We won't go home till morning, We won't go home till morning, We won't go home till morning, We've seen the Wilson girls. -Sled No. 1. When you leave college without permission, always take the Proctor along. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 37 Old Dorm to New Dorm ; "You may be pretty, but you're terribly cracked." New Dorm to Old Dorm ; " Cork it off ! You've been full ten years." I saw an old man in a funny old wig Go dancing- along-, jiggity gig. Behind him there capered and gambolled a dog And a donkey that ambled, joggity jog. They jigged and they jogged and they gambolled in glee To the tune of a fiddler, fiddle dee dee. They went till they came to the volcano's top, And down they went into it, hobbity, hop. And then I didn't see them any more. —Castalian. ,t^^ri:sjr~s->r-s5jr*sis->t4r-»r~s>jr^-> RINTING WE PRINT THIS BOOK ^ and BINDING MT. HOLLY PRINTING COMPANY. The Mount Holly Stationery and Print-ing Company does all classes of Printing and Binding, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertaining to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. MT. HOLLY SPRINGS, PA. ^«_r^_jr-M^--w~jr^r^:r^r^:kJc^jr"5^rT^r-^^r-5«j H. S. BENNER, ■-^--ib tEroxel. Dealer in ^irte (groceries anb Itottons *_x_4}orfc Street. Teachers. Union Teachers' Agencies of America REV. L. D. BASS, D. D., Manager. Pittsburgh Pa., Toronto, Can., New Orleans, La., New York, N. Y., Washington, D. C, San Francisco, Cal., Chicago, 111., St. Louis, Mo., Denver, Col. 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iiirTiriTXTxnTiTirxTrrritTnrxnx-intirTTiv iimtuiminir'' mi mm 111 ill .#■-, -:- THE ~:~ Gettysburg mE^CURY. flOVEmBER, 1897. CONTENTS: Melancthon, the Scholar of Germany, Rev. F. D. Garland, A Prose Shakespeare, Rev. Edwin Heyl Delk, A. M [A Few Facts About Prehistoric California, Rev. M. H. Stine, Ph.D., IWhat is Nature, Prof. Oscar G. Klinger, A. M., INovember, lA Few Things About the Southern Negio, H. D. Shimer,. [Educational Value of Poetry Plie College Musical Organizations, Py First Smoke, Editors' Desk iAthletics |A Gettysburg Glee Book,. |The Junior Kanes, Our Exchange Table,. i Wise and Otherwise,. "■0. MILLER, PRINTER. GETTYSBURG. -^ijS«-'-^*^>"-j> R. H. REININGER, Merchant Tailor. Suits from {12,00 to {40.00, Pants from $4.00 to $12,00, The Best Work at the Lowest Prices. CENTRE SQUARE, NEXT DOOR TO POST-OFFICE-OP STAIRS, READY FOR FALL jlND WINTER, Suits to Order—Prices $12.00 to $35.00; Trousers, $2.50 to $9.00. ALL KINDS OF REPAIRING DONE. All the new effects in Check and Over Plaids you will find at THE LEADING A TAILOR, CLOTHIER & 4 \ GENTS' FURNISHER, Jtl UVCDC No. 11 Balto. St., ■ Hi HlltlfOj GETTYSBURG, PA. WJ£ Wierman, S/orM Stroet, Sroceries. EPH. H. MlNNlCH, Manufacturer, Wholesale & Retail Dealerln CONFECT10NEHY AND ICE CREAM, - the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price One Dollar a year in advance, single copies Fifteen cents. Sudents, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. \ Address, The Gettysburg flercury, Gettysburg, Penna. MELANCTHON THE SCHOLAR OF GERMANY. BY REV. F. D. GARLAND '88. In the general judgment of men Philip Melancthon occupies a place among the great masters in the realm of literature. His literary fame has stood the test of time, has been tried in the fur-nace and found pure, has been weighed in the balance and has not been found wanting. We are not humiliated but are ennobled "1 offering our tribute of praise to the memory of great men like Melancthon. The remembrance of their character and achieve-ment will enrich us. No one can study the life-work and literary fame of this great scholar without being inspired to emulate his devotion to the cause of education, his zeal for the enrichment of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. literature and his eminent labor for the public good. r. Melancthon lived at a crisis period in the history of the church and of the world. He lived in the midst of the great con-flict between liberty and despotism—a battle that was being fought for no single nation, for no single generation. The im-portance of authors like Melancthon has not always been correctly estimated. "Dante is worshipped at the grave to which he was hurried by persecution," while "Milton in his own day was the blind adder that spit his venom on the king's person" and later the "mighty orb of song." So Melancthon's memory suffered in the keeping of more than two generations who scarcely spoke a word in his favor. But Melancthon's noble effort to bring the actual world nearer ideal perfection in that mighty struggle of the centuries is being better appreciated. He was the most celebrated and the most powerful literary champion of those principles which were then struggling for infant existence. Luther who spoke of him as "the inconceivably learned and elegant" Melanc-thon sat at his feet for instruction. He was the Scholar of Ger-many in that day when the mighty conflict between that which was and that which ought to be took place, when the struggle was transferred from the "tented field" to the realm of ideas, which "burning all over with indestructible life were marshalled against principalities and powers." He lived to lead when "the brain and not the arm, the thinker and not the soldier, books and not kings," were set to rule the world. Erasmus the great scholar was right when he wrote of Melancthon, "Christ designs this youth to excel us all." 2. The genius of Melancthon was marked at an early age. Matriculated at Heidelberg University at the early age of twelve, he became pre-emineni. for his philological and philosophical studies, and was regarded worthy of the degree of bachelor of philosophy at the age of fourteen. On account of his extreme youth he was at the end of the following year denied the degree of Magisterof which he was adjudged altogether worthy. While but a mere boy he prepared rudiments of the Greek language which afterwards were published. During his residence at the Tubingen university he devoted himself diligently to the study of logic, jurisprudence, mathematics, theology and medicine. He was made a Doctor of Philosophy before he was seventeen and THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. soon after that became a public lecturer in the university. He gave especial attention to the classics Latin and Greek. At the age of twenty-one he was elected Professor of Greek language and litera-ture in the university of Wittenberg. He was a careful, critical, and accurate scholar. His mind was characterized by keen in-sight, logical order, unbounded power of endurance and ripened judgment. 3. His success was achieved in two particular directions. (a) His services in promoting the cause of education in gen-eral were great. His high regard for the place and power of edu-cation in matters of government and religion is shown in an ad-dress delivered at the opening of an institution of learning in Nuremberg. He said : "In the proper constitution of a State, schools of learning are primarily requisite, where the rising gen-eration which is the foundation of the future empire should be instructed; (or it is a most fallacious idea to suppose that solid excellence is likely to be acquired without due regard to instruc-tion. A Spartan said that their walls ought to be constructed of iron and not of stone; but I am of opinion that wisdom forms a better protection than arms or walls," On that principle he acted with great zeal throughout his life. He urged princes to reform the universities for the instruction of youth, as of all others, the most important object. Princes everywhere sought his advice in the establishment of schools, accepted his plans and adopted his methods. He stood easily at the head of the many great literary enterprises and engagements of that age, so that he has very properly been called "the founder of the learned schools of Ger-many." He not only inspired to the establishment of schools but he also prepared text books and furnished the proper means of study. He was indeed the pioneer in the preparation of the modern text book. He made abridgments of the various branches of philosophy, logic, ethics, etc., which were used in all the Lutheran schools for many years. He reduced almost every art and science into a form and arrangement which was of invaluable assistance to the student. He aroused the youth to study and created in the minds of his pupils a taste for literature. He revo-lutionized the methods and the means of study. His zeal in this work never abated while life lasted. His wonderful success was shown in the fact that from his boyhood days as teacher until his THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. death his lecture room was crowded with eager students, often as many as two thousand, among whom were barons, counts and princes from all parts of Europe. He wrote once and this senti-ment expresses the aim and glory of his career : "No service is more acceptable to God and no conduct more pious and praise-worthy than to aim at truth and to acquire its transforming in-fluence." (b) In authorship he was pre-eminent. Luther wrote more than he. But Luther was as he said of himself 'the rough pio-neer", preparing the way for "Master Philip who comes along softly and gently, who sows and waters heartily, since God has so richly endowed him with gifts". "Luther scattered their sparks among the masses ; but it remained for Melancthon by his logical and systematic writings to win not only princes, but also a large number of the learned and cultured for the cause of the Reforma-tion". He wrote commentaries on Genesis, Proverbs, Daniel, The Psalms, and also on Romans, Collossians and the Gospel of John. He wrote the first Protestant work on systematic theology. Of this Luther said, "He who has the bible and this work of Philip perfectly in memory is a divine against whom neither the devil nor any heretic can be able to take advantage. It is the best book next to the Holy Scriptures". In Ethics Melancthon's influence was immeasurable, and more enduring than his influence in theology. He is the author of the Augsburg Confession, the "First Protestant Confession of Faith", of which the late Dr. Schaff wrote : "It best exhibits the prevailing genius of the Ger-man Reformation and will ever be cherished as one of the noblest monuments of faith from the pentecostal period of Protestant-ism". 4. Melancthon was a toiler. As Cecil said of Sir Walter Raleigh, "He can toil terribly". He had that best genius, the genius of work. It was not only brain but iron labour with him that counted for success. He reached the heights of his literary fame by no easy path. "Had I not lived with Mirabeau", says Dumont, "I never should have known all that can be done in one day". So he who knew Philip Melanchton had an opportunity of noting possibility of accomplishment. Native talent coupled with persevering toil lifted Philip Melancthon above the level of ordi-nary achievement in the world of letters and made him worthy of that most distinguished designation, "The Preceptor of Ger-many". THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. A PROSE SHAKESPEARE. BY REV. EDWIN HEYL DELK, A. M. Books are the dried life-blood of personal and national history. Touch them with a living sympathy, and all the griefs, joys and heroisms of the past spring into being, thus re-enacting for us the tragedy and comedy of the human soul. There is another fact to recall in our char-acterization of literature, i. e., tnat there is a literature of knowledge and a literature of power. Darwin's "Origin of Species" well represents the books of the first order— the literature of knowledge. No single book has thrown such a flood of light upon the method of creation. This book, with his ''Descent of Man," have changed the view point of the scientific world upon the genesis and suprem-acy of man. Shakespeare's "Hamlet" is a work of the second order—the literature of power. It addresses itself not simply to the intellectual life but stirs our deepest emotion and brings before the imagination the horror and weakness of irresolution. Such a poem as Browning's "Saul," or Shakespeare's "Hamlet," become formative forces in the region of character because they address not only the analytical but also the volitional and ideal in human thought. Shakespeare is our master interpreter of life and puts before us as no other single writer has ever done before, or since, the complex motives, the marred action, the glit-tering ambition, the deteriorating moral nature, the mul-tiplicity of human types, the sweep of passion and the majestic march of historical providence. Unfortunately Shakespeare is praised much, but read little. His work is made a literary Bible and placed on the centre-table of undisturbed reverence. To many, his English has grown archaic, and his blank verse is too obscure a medium for the communication of his message. For the man of cul-ture, he will always remain the master interpreter of life, and, therefore, the supreme literary power. As he gath-ered his great life procession from all history, he has be-come the world's poet. He has become for all modern ,,; ,,,- wmmmmmmmamaammm THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. peoples the standard for the measurement of all literature of power. To select any one writer, then, and declare him to be a prose Shakespeare is a stupendous claim which borders on the audacious, or comic, according to one's mood. And yet, as I place the name of Balzac beside that of Shakespeare, I feel no personal uneasiness in my stlf-provided criticism. To men who know their Balzac as well as their Shakespeare, there will be fell no incon-gruity in placing the writer of the "Comedie Humaine" and the framer of "Lear" and "Midsummer Night's Dream" in the same class—the class of supreme literary genius. One must make at the outset, however, this acknowl-edgment, that Shakespeare was far and away the greater master of form and literary expression. But in their grasp of life and its deepest and most complex emotions, in the breadth and variety of their characters, in the pas-sion and intensity of their feeling, in the powerful and subtle presentation of human action, in their marvelous balance of realism and idealism, in their titanic and inex-haustible creative power, Balzac and Shakespeare were brothers. The Englishman was the greater, by reason of the fecundating and larger era in which he wrought, and by right of his more finished medium of expression which gives a grandiose setting to his immortal pictures of his-tory and individual action. A glance now at our prose Shakespeare. Honore de Balzac was born at Tours, May 16th, 1799. Nothing in his parentage, or place of birth, can account for his genius. To his sister Laure, who made him her hero through life, he owed a sympathy which was far more influential to his creative temperament than the early literary associations which nourish so many writers. He was not a good student, from the scholastic stand-point, but was an omnivorous reader and an intense lover of nature. The desire for fame early lured him to essay the craft of letters. He went to Paris with his family in 1814, and devoted himself to study. He was in constant at-tendance at the lectures of the Sorbonne, and to please his THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. father, took a three years' course in law. When the hour came for his family to leave the French capital, he de-clared his purpose to give his days and life to literature rather than law. As a test of his devotion to the chosen art, his father offered him a menial's allowance for two years. He remained in Paris working at a drama entitled "Crom-well." He broke down, under the strain of partial failure and want, and had to retire from the gay city. Soon, however, he went back again to his attic. Here he wrought furiously at short stories, in order to secure food and fuel. The ten short stories he wrote before his twenty-eighth year, he did not care to acknowledge, when he had come to his literary throne. They were the output of his apprentice days. Though a born novelist, he was not a born stylist and only after much toil and polish-ing did he master language sufficiently well to express the facts and fancies that crowded tumultously upon his eye and brain. It was not until he was twenty-eight years of age that he produced his first notable book—"Les Chouans." The '-Physiology of Marriage" followed quickly in 1830, and "At the Sign of the Cat and Racket" a year later. These books at once revealed his marvelous phychological powers, as his earlier stories gave promise of the definiteness of his objective vision. The streets of Paris now became the laboratory of his literary experi-mentation. Night and day he would walk the boulevards and quays gathering his material, testing its relation to the past, and its present relation to the whole fabric of society. Then he would rttire to his attic, and living for weeks on little or nothing, select from his material, tet up certain characters, live with his creations in imaginary walks and positive communings, until his dramatic talent made his creation a real thing. Then, when all was fused, his hard driven pen put upon paper some section of that great social drama—the "Comedie Humaine." At first, Balzac did not plan the writing of a systematic study of all classes and types of human characters. He was bent, primarily, on writing stories charged full with actual life. 'Yet it was more than a swarm of stories that was buz- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. zing in his head ; it was a swarm of individuals often more truly alive to him than the friends with whom he loved to converse about them. And just because he knew these people of his brain, just because he entered into the least details of their daily lives, Balzac was destined to become much more than a mere philosopher or student of society, to which a creator of characters, endowed with that absolute dramatic vision which distinguishes Homer and Shakespeare and Chaucer. But b^cau^e he was also something of a philosopher and student of sociology, he conceived the stupendous idea of linking their charac-ters with one another and with their several environ-ments, in order that he might make himself not merely the historian but also the creator of an entire society." It is only as we view his co-ordinated work,not any sin. gle volume, that we begin to appreciate his tremendous grasp on the whole of life. His financial failures, his legal studies, his own irregular habits, his beautiful love affair, his multitudinous sympathies were all utilized in the interpretation of "the human comedy." Because he saw life straight and full his novels are not food for chil-dren or callow youth. Sin and its putrifactions are as boldly painted as sainthood and the oratory. Balzac was too elemental in his nature, and too sincere in his purpose to paint in grays and neutral tints. His color-scheme ranges from purest white to loathsome black. In pre-senting three thousand personages in his co-ordinated "comedy," he must, needs project upon his canvass many a maimed and distorted life. If fault this be, it is one he has in common with Shak ^speare and the Bible—neither of which can be read in their entirety in the nursery, or class-room. Balzac's works are for the mature student of life—with all its sorrow, joy and passion. He divided his great scheme into three great divisions: 1, "Sciences of Private Life," which consist of twenty-four novels, nov-elettes, and tales ; II, "Scenes of Provincial Life," num-bering ten stories, nearly all of which are masterpieces; III, "Scenes of Country Life," and the "Parisian Scenes," the latter containing his greatest works. In this latter class, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. we find some twenty-four titles, six of them being novels "L'Histoire de Csesar Pirotteau," "Le Pere Goriot," "La Di'ehesse de Langeau," "La Cousins Bette." and his other profoundly popular studies. This series was sunple-mented by his "Studies in Philosophy"—twenty in num-ber, which furnish his metaphysical background of life, i.e., "The Magic Skin," "The Elixir of Life," "Louis Lambert," "Seraphita," and "Jesus Christ en Flandre." I know how ludicrously inadequate this mention of the greatest of novelists is, but I simply wish to call attention. For an exposition of his philosophy of life I would suggest the reading of George Frederick Parson's introduction to Balzac's "Louis Lambert," For an analysis of the whole "Comedie" Balzac's own division. "Studies of Manners," "Philosophical Studies" and "Analytic Studies," I find William P. Trent's article in a "Library of the World's Best Literature" to be as clear and accessible a presenta-tion as I know. ISaintsbury commenced an English edition of the great master's works and the introductions are invaluable. But for the realization that Balzac has given us a prose Lear we must read his own "Le Pere Gor-iot" and feel the terror, the devotion and the frenzy of the old neglected father's life and death. To know that there is a French Beatrice, Desdemona, Hamlet, Falstaff, Iago, one must follow for himself the career of Louis Lambert, Baron Hulot, Cousine Bette, Eugene Grandet and Rastiquac in their tortuous risings towards the In-finite, or their gurgling descent into the human hell of despair. To know Balzac thus is to know life. To know life is to cry aloud to God. A FEW FACTS ABOUT PRE-HISTORIC CALIFORNIA. BY REV. M. H. STINE, PH. U., '77. California is the land of wonders. Its climate is a happy surprise to the visitor from almost every State in the Union. Its delicious fruits are unexcelled in perfection and variety. Its natural scenery comprehends mountain and valley, forest and desert, all included in a surpris-ingly small extent of square miles. The busy life of the 10 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. city, the densely populated valley, and the silence and loneliness of the uninhabited mi-sa and the mountain, rock-ribbed and sublime in its towering heights, are all in the compass of a day's journey. This State so rich in its natural wonders has also its pre-historic surprises and apparent contradictions. Per-haps nowhere in America outside of Mexico are tbere more marked evidences of the existence of a pre-historic civilization far in advance of the North American Indian than in the Golden State. With the brief space at our command, we can call attention to only a few of these evidences. One of these is in Tuolumne county Here be-neath what is known as Table mountain "have been found many works of man's hand." Table Mountain it-self is a wonder. It is the remains of a flow of lava which originated in the crater of a volcano miles away. It seems as if the lava instead of seeking its lowest level had persisted in flowing along the ridge of the hill. The fact is, that the mountains which were at the time of the flow of the lava much higher than the present summit, have been carried away. Prof. Whitney truthfully says (Geology of Cal., "Vol I.): "The whole face of the country must, therefore, have undergone an entire change since the eruption took place, during which this mass of lava was poured out." Conceive, if you can, the sublime truth that mountains three thousand feet in height, have been completely removed. On this mountain, at Altaville, a skull was taken from a mining shaft at a depth of 130 feet beneath the surface. Seven different layers of lava and gravel were arranged in regular strata above it. Stone mortars, spear heads, and other stone relics were found 300 feet beneath the sur-face. We naturally wonder whether the people who left these relics were the same that built the irrigating ditches in the southern part of the State in what is now desert. And were they the people who laid the foundation and built the superstructure of the massive buildings, the ruins of which have been discovered in the southern part of the State ? T THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 11 It has been asserted that when Table Mountain was formed California was totally different from what it is now. Parts of the San Joaquin Valley may then still have been covered with water, whilst the great Mojave desert was at the bottom of an inland sea. Dr. Cooper says : (Geographical Survey, W. of 100 Meridian, Vol. I, p. 11) "The country consisted of peninsulas and islands, like those of the present East Indies." If these people who lived on the supposed islands laid the foundations of temples and built water ways, they were no doubt more civilized than the people who sought for gold where now the heights of Table Mountain rear their rugged walls. The question as to where those people came from is most interesting, especially if we adopt the views of Igna-tius Donnelly (Atlantis: The Antediluvian World, p. 135, 175 etc.) That they came from the South originally seems plausible. Evidently the civilization of Mexico and Cen-tral America is the oldest in the Western World. When we make this assertion we do not forget that Prof. Whitney and others, hold that the human remains and evidences of human handiwork prove that men lived in Pliocene times. We ask, do the houses and other relics exhumed from beneath the lava beds of Vesuvius prove that Pompeiians lived in Pliocene times ? It will be ob-jected that the two examples are not sufficiently alike to comparison. It is true, no mountains have been removed near Pompeii since the city was buried nor have the val-leys been elevated into mountain ranges ; but some very stupendous changes have been made in the face of Italy and elsewhere since Pompeii was destroyed. So two or three or five thousand years may have produced marvel-ous changes on the Pacific Coast, where the rumblings of earthquakes are monthly occurrences even in the closing years of the nineteenth century. We ask, are the remains even at the base of a mountain a proof that men lived in Pliocene times ? Were all mountains formed before and in Pliocene times ? 12 THE GETTYSBURG MJReUKY. WHAT IS NATURE? BY PROF. OSCAR G. KLIXUER, A M. While in conversation with a student-friend some time since, our talk turned upon Nature as it presents itself to poet, artist, scientist and the illiterate man. and he wondered how one and the same thing could produce such different conceptions in different minds. He then asked the question which forms the caption of this article, "What is Nature"? In my reply I endeavored to show that what Natnre is for each man depends upon what he is. I hope now to justify this answer by a rapid analysis of the conditions and processes of the act of knowing. The mind as substance is forever hid from human cog-nition, but the instrument and laws of its activity are now matters of everyday knowledge. No doubt longer exists that it uses as the means of its manifestations the nervous system with the brain as its center. The brain is hermetically sealed within the skull. "'The hair, the thick skin of the scalp, the skull, and two membranes at least, one of them a tough one, surround the brain ; and this organ moreover, like the spinal cord, is bathed by a serous fluid in which it floats suspended." (James). In the skull are several apertures filled with the nerves of the special senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. Sitting at the center, the mind receives its materials of knowledge from sensations generated by external stimuli and carried upward to the brain by longitudinal vibra-tions of the several nerves. The relations of mind and brain are so close that psychologists ar^ unanimous in affirming that "the immediate condition of a state of con-sciousness is an activity of some sort in the cerebral hemisphere." Further it is believed that with every sense dead, mind would exist, if at all, only as a mere blank—"not mind, but only the unrealized possibility of mind." (John Caird). It is not to be doubted then that mind is awakened and furnished with the materials of knowledge by sensations which have their origin in the external world. TH.fi GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 13 But the materials of knowledge are not knowledge any more than the materials of a house are the house itself. The sensations which come to the brain must be reacted upon by the mind and the product which results we call knowledge. "It is neither wholly from within nor wholly from without, but both the external and the .nternal fac-tors co-operate in its formation." (Stuckenberg). This re-action takes place through perception, conception, judg-ment, etc:, and implies the recognition of differences and similarities. Let us call the reacting mind the subjective, and Ihe external stimulus the objective; knowledge as the individual, concrete act of knowing may then be denned as the union of the subjective and the objective in a state of consciousness. It may be necessary to indicate the exact meaning of the phrase "state of consciousness." A single intelligent introspective glance will show that what we mean by con-sciousness is a "stream" (James) of thoughts and feelings and volitions all intermingled and inseparable. Now a "state" of consciousness is the content of this stream in-cluded within certain definite time-limits. As all intelli-gence lies within consciousness, we must study the nature of the concrete act of knowing in this time-portion of it. It is in a state of consciousness, then, that the individual knowing-act takes place. This act I have termed a union of subjective and objective elements. It remains, there-fore, to determine just what these respective elements are and we shall then be in a position to get a glimpse of Nature as an absolutely objective reality. It must be borne in mind, however, that knowledge is, in fact, an indissoluble union of these elements and the separation of which I speak is mere abstraction. One can think of the color of the rose to the neglect of its other properties but he cannot, of course, separate it from them without de-stroying the rose. Take a single act of knowing an object such as hourly occurs in the laboratory. Here we have the different ele-ments in the cold light of the intellect without any color-lng of feeling. There lies the substance to be analyzed 14 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and named. The eyes are turned upon it and on the retina is thrown an image of it. This sets up a vibration which proceeds upward to the brain. Somewhere at the brain's base, this sensation, a purely neural process is changed into a perception of color and form, a purely psychic product. So the ear and the nerves of taste and touch carry up to the same center their wholly diverse sensations of sound and taste and feel. The mind is now furnished with the data of knowledge, viz., certain neural affections which interpreted by the mind we call proper-ties of the object. But this is not the whole act of knowing. Whatever the mind cognizes comes to it under certain forms of knowledge—categories, as Kant calls them : fundamental ideas, as Whewell calls them ; ideas of the pure reason as others call them. These forms in which all sensations are received and worked over are such as time, space, cause, substance, indentity, etc. That object is there, it is now, it is itself, it had a cause. Now all these ideas which necessarily enter into every interpretation of the objective belong to the mind itself; hence in the knowing-act they are contributed by the mind in its reaction upon the in-coming sensations. Let us, now, in that union of the subjective and the ob-jective which we call scientific knowledge abstract from the whole the elements which the mind has furnished and note what remains. 1. Nothing is more commonly spoken of than the "laws" of Nature. But law is an idea of the reason and so far as we know has only an ascribed objective exist-ence. What we actually perceive in Nature are only uni-formities : water always seeks its own level, a stone al-ways falls to the ground, etc. Matter has certain modes of acting which are uniform and invariable and these modes we call laws. 2. Again, we affirm without thought of possible con-tradiction that "every change has a cause." But cause, also, is one of the fundamental ideas and "it is now uni-versally conceded that we have no perception by the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 15 senses of any causal connection or nexus in the material world." What we do perceive is only sequence, but when one phenomenon always follow another and the relation of antecedent and consequent seems to be a necessary one, we call the phenomenon that comes first the cause of the one that comes second. And so, if space permitted, it would he possible to show that force, life, order, purpose, substance and all the other most common terms in scien-tific nomenclature stand for ideas, not things. To this I append the witness of Professor Cocker : "Order, pur-pose, design, law, are not objects of sense ; all that we perceive by the senses is a cerlain collocation and dis-position of matter in space." Nature, then, in its bleak objectivity when abstracted from all that the mind necessarily reads into it in every act of interpretation, is matter existing in what seems to be a system of uniformities, coexistences, sequences. This it is which furnishes the stimuli to the various senses and by them generates the different sensations upon which each individual mind must react in harmony with its own natural endowment. Its own natural endowment, I repeat, because difference is what constitutes individuality, and it is safe to say that no two human beings have ever been endowed in precisely the same way. No man is a chance product, however.— except, indeed, he be a transcendent genius—and natural endowment is determined, under the laws of heredity and environment, by his ancestry and the accidents of his early training. Some minds are practical, others poetical, artistic, philosophical. In some the constructive imagi-nation is most active and things are always seen in a bor-rowed light. In others the spirit of investigation is pro-dominant and the analytic tendency, as is the case of John Stuart Mill, becomes a burdensome nuisance. Other men there are whose whole thought centers about the problem of getting on in the world and they are never bothered by the aspirations of an aesthetic nature. Such men never see a landscape, and Niagara to them is only so much waste power! 16 THE GETTYSBURG MEKCURY. I said at the beginning that ''what Nature is to each man depends upon what he is." If he be a physicist, as Edison. Nature will be to him a reservoir of forces or one force manifesting itself in different modes. If he be a chemist, as von Liebig, Nature will be to him a unity of molecules combined in different proportions. If he be a biologist, as Huxley, Nature will be to him a great vit.il laboratory in which cells are built up and destroyed in end-less succession. If he be a poet, as Bryant, Nature will be to him a great speaking allegory, a store-house of imagery and sentiment, a dully-sentient reality capable of feeling— "Dim and faint May be its sense of pleasure and of pain, ■ As in our dreams ; but, haply, real still." If he be an unlettered farmer, as poor Hodge. Nature will be to him but su much soil in which to sow and so much sunlight in which to garner the harvest. I have space for only one illustration of my meaning In the West the sun is setting in a blaze of glory. Orange and gold melt into each other and pass into crimson. A magnificent tint spreads over the sky to the far East shot-through with beams of light. Hodge looks at it and re-marks, "Red at night, the sailor's delight." But John Ruskin, scientist, poet, and artist, looks at it and thinks of the contest waged between day and night since early dawn ; night has at length conquered, and "the sun sinks below the horizon, bathed in the crimson of his own blood. So every interpretation of Nature is colored by.— say rather, its whole content is given by,—the personality of the interpreter. It is to each of us poverty-striken or rich as our minds are endowed with sublime or only com-monplace ideas. We get from Nature just what we bring to it. To the "Mercury." NOVEMBER. Summer days have sped away. Summer clouds no more appear, November comes with skies of gray, Winter's snows again seem near. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 17 The grass grows sere in the meadows Where the hoar-frost falls by night, No blossoms nod to their shadows, Nor beckon the bees to alight. Forest trees send down their shower Of dry leaves all over the ground. The robin—iar South is his bower— Sings to gladden his mate with the sound. Yet autumn days truly are gladsome ; Fulfillment of promise are they— Promise of fruit from the blossom Matured by the sun's ripening ray. What if purple asters turn gray, And golden-rod flames grow dim— The flower is more than the bloom of the day; There's a wealth of seed within. So life's not for a day, but for fruit; And the labor of summer's not lost. The best fruits ripen the latest, And some ripen onty in frost. And when pink petals are faded and withered, And almond trees flourish like snow; They that look out of the windows lie darkened, And the daughters of music brought low ; When the silver cords are unstrung, And the golden bowls broken be ; Return like the honey-bee, home, With thy treasure laid up on high. AEIEIE, '91. A FEW THINGS ABOUT THE SOUTHERN NEGRO. BY H. D. SHIMER, '96. This summer I was engaged in colporter work in the South. As every one knows, the South is the home of the colored man ; or if it may not be called his home, that is where one finds him very frequently. To me, coming from a state where it is the exception and not the rule to find colored people living, the colored man proved to be a very interesting subject for study. It is about him that I am now going to write ; and my writing, I will base upon what I saw and experienced. 18 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Probably one of the first things that attracts ones atten-tion, when traveling among colored people, is the fact that they are a very happy and contented people. They live in the present, and for the present. How often have I seen colored persons clad in filthy rags, not knowing whence their next meal would come, bearing upon their countenance the smile of perfect contentment, and sing-ing, as only they can sing, some old plantation song! And why are they so happy ? It is because they are satis-fied with what they have. They, as a rule, lack true am-bition. While the white man toils and worries and plans for the future, unsatisfied until he has made for himself and his family a comfortable home, the colored man as a rule is perfectly satisfied to let the future take care of itself, and is the happiest man in the world, if he has just enough in the present to keep his body and soul together. What cares he for a palace in which to live ? Does not a little hut give him shelter from rain and from storm? What need has he of a palace for a home ? Does not the little log house give ample room for himself, and for his family ! Is it not easier to fill a small home with happi-ness than a large one ? Thus reasons the colored man; and I was compelled to believe that there was something in his reasoning ; for I have seen colored families, with a a dozen or more members in each family, live in miser-able hovels of one room, and live there in perfect content-ment. From what I could learn, during the seasons when negroes have work and make a little money, they spend their money about as fast as they earn it; and when they earn no money they live on almost nothing. They lack | that true ambition, which tends to make their future bet-ter than their present. When they have much, they are happy with much; when they have little, they are happy with little. A second thing in which I was interested in the colored people was their education. In the section of country where I was,-the facilities for acquiring a moderate edu-tion were average. School-houses for the colored people were so scattered about that any colored family was THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, 19 within a reasonable distance of a school-house. As a re-sult, most of the colored children attend school. But one thing especiallv attracted my attention. It was the fact that little children from six up to ten or twelve years of of age, were very bright and active. In fact many of them were as bright as white children of their age. But when they got beyond ten or twelve years of age they seemed to become stupid and dull. I noticed this almost invariably among the strictly African children. The only way I could account for this was : From six up to ten or twelve years of age, their perceptive faculties were very active, and they could perceive things very readily, and thus were apparently very bright; but when they came to the age when the reflective faculties should assert themselves, they were lacking in their reflective powers, and consequently, for the lack of these powers, they became dull and stupid. Of course there are some few who are exceptions, and sometimes these few make very smart men and women. Yet how often can these exceptions claim their mental powers from the African race! How often are the minds of these exceptions made more active and fertile by Caucasian blood and energy ? Viewing the colored man from a religious standpoint, we are compelled to say that he is a very religious being. Without a doubt our colored brother has as much of the religious element in his nature as we have who are of fairer complexion. To realize the truth of this statement we have only to go to the great revival meetings which the colored people hold from time to time. There we may see religion in one of its phases, though not always in its true phase. In these meetings there is life ; and it is there that the religious nature of the colored man often unconsciously wings its flight on pinions of abnormal ex-citement, and soars higher and higher, until it exhausts itself in unconscious agony. Socially and morally the colored people with whom I came in contact were not. up to the standard of the white race. There was not that purity of heart, earnestness of true motive, and elevation of thought and conversation 20 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. among them which characterizes the noble characters of our own race. True, there are kind, charitable. Christian people among the colored race ; yet with all their virtues, there is something within the character of the colored man, which does not measure up to the standard of char acter among our own people. For instance, if a good col-ored brother, on his way home from religious services, should happen to take a chicken home with him that did not belong to him, his colored brelhren would hardly ques-tion his Christianity for such a deed. Again, colored ser-vants have a great liking for taking things that belong to their employer, and appropriating them to their own use. There seems to be a positive weakness in the colored man for that kind of thing. Topsy was no excep-tion to this rule. The families among them also point to a weakness in their moral and social disposition. There where purit}r and love should reign, I found too often the opposite ; the baser nature ruling and moral purity placed in the back-ground. It is true that this same thing may be said of very many of the homes of our own race ; yet we can say there are homes among our people where love does reign, and where moral purity finds an exalted place. In view of these foregoing facts this question naturally presents itself : What kind of citizens do the colored peo-ple as a rule make ? Closely allied to this question is another : What kind of citizens are they likely to make in the future ? In answer to the first question, we can say that the majority of the colored voters of the South have not suf-ficient education to use intelligently the ballot-box ; and it is a question whether the North did not entrust too much to the negro when it gave to him indiscriminately full rights of citizenship. There are few people in the South who want back their slaves. They agree with us that slavery was wrong. But there are many people in the South, the most intelligent and best thinking class of people, who honestly hold that the large majority of negroes, have not sufficient knowledge to use intelligently ^^^^^■■^^^■^^^^^H ^^^^^^■M THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 21 the bnllot-box, and that the North made a mistake when it gave to negroes, indiscriminately, the full power and authority of citizenship. In answer to the second question it is to be hoped that the negro will make a better citizen in the future than he does now. If he does not there is trouble ahead. The colored people in the South are increasing at an alarming rate. It will be but a short time until they will outnum-ber the white people in the 8outh. In such an event, the colored people would elect their representatives to govern-ment and municipal offices. What would be the outcome of such a step is hard to tell. We all know that the white population of the South would not look with favor upon such a step, and it would be justified in not so doing, if the intellectual and moral standard of the colored race be-comes no higher than it now is. Unless the colored race make rapid strides in intelligence and moral strength, it will be many years before they will be fit subjects to take active part in our governmental affairs. EDUCATIONAL VALUE OF POETRY. Life is a conscious effort to cancel the limitations be-tween the real and the ideal. The noblest life is an heroic effort to realize an ideal so grand and pure that it is unat-tainable. That branch of instruction which does the most to help the student cancel the limitations betwetn his real self and his ideal self has the greatest educational value. Tompkins says : "Life's ideal, heroic struggle is exhibited in its most perfect form in literature." The manifold objects and influences in the physical world are the means which man is to use in realizing his ideal self. But man without the poet's soul does not recognize their value. He walks through the world having eyes but he sees not. "A primrose by the river's brim, A yellow primrose is to him ; And it is nothing more." 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The poet utilizes the common objects in the physical world and makes them a power unto spiritual. The ordi-nary individual sees in the nautilus nothing but a com-mon, insignificant little animal, but Holmes saw in that little animal a type of the human soul struggling to shake off the base and sensuous things of earth and attain its true spiritual freedom. The growth of the little ani-mal from the narrow, restricted cell to the Droader, higher one, was to him a type of the human soul broadened and elevated through the acquisition of knowledge and virtue. The nautilus cast off the shell which had restricted his freedom and separated him from the physical heaven. Holmes saw in that a type of the soul that has cast off all ignorance, prejudice and sin, and attained its true spiritual freedom. The intellect recognizes the fitness of the object in the physical world to typify growth in the spiritual world; the emotions are called into play and the soul is filled with pleasure as it sees the unity. But it must also move the will or it would be deficient as an educational force. The student sees that the end of the little creature is to become physically free. It has attained its freedom and left nothing between it and the physical heaven. He is not free. Passions, sin and ignor-ance still chain him to the earth. His will is moved to do what the little nautilus has already done. He moves for-ward and to his own soul utters Holmes' mandate : "Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll; Leave thy low vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from Heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea." It is the poetic in life that "lifts the soul from the com-mon sod to a purer air and a broader view." The poetic soul recognizes in the physical world around him expressions of universal spiritual truth. Tompkins says, in substance, that the matter-of-fact scientist studies the lily as a physical organism and misses the best it has i^^^^Hj^^^^l^^^H THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 23 for man, if he stops there. The true scientist, who is always a poet, adjusts his ear to its whispers of infinite truth and beauty, and finds the message it has for man. The matter of fact botanist would have analyzed the gentian as a physical organism and stopped with a knowl-edge of its structure, habitat, etc. Whittier saw a deeper lesson. He was familiar with the New England custom of placing a pressed gentian on the inner side of the win-dows as a Xmas decoration. This though beautiful with-in looks like a dark speck to the traveler passing ; and the poet wrote his lesson: "So from the trodden ways of earth, Some sweet souls who veil their worth, And offer to the careless glance The clouding gray of circumstance. They blossom best where hearth fires burn, So loving eyes above they turn, The flowers of inward grace, that hide Their beauty from the world outside. But deeper meaning comes to me, My half immortal flower, from thee! Man judges from a partial view, None ever yet his brother knew; The Eternal Eye that sees the whole May better read the darkened soul, And find, to outward sense denied, The flower upon the inmost side." Ryan saw two roses, one perfect, blooming; the other broken, crushed. He noticed that the crushed rose breath-ed forth the sweetest perfume. He saw in that flower a type of the human soul chastened, but sweetened by sor-row and suffering, and he sent forth his message to man-kind: "It is a truth beyond our ken— And yet a truth that all may read, It is with roses as with men, The sweetest hearts are those that bleed. The Flower which Bethlehem saw bloom Out of a heart all full of grace, Gave never forth its full perfume Until the cross became its vase." Thomas Moore watched the carrier pigeon soaring 24 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. through the air at a great height in order to surmount every obstacle between her and the place to which she was destined. In that scene he recognized a type of the soul soaring above the sins and snares of this world to the place for which it was destined. His soul was filled with emotion as he saw the faithful bird soaring with a fidelity which man—proud man with all his intelligence, rarely, if ever, reaches. He seized his pen and to the world of literature gave this poetic prayer: "So grant me God. from every care And stain of passion free, Aloit through Virtue's purer air, To hold my course to thee! No sin to cloud, no lure to stay My soul, as home she springs; Thy sunshine on her joyful way, Thy freedom in her wings." BUTTERWORTH, '99. THE COLLEGE MUSICAL ORGANIZATIONS. In our college life, along with its literary work, we should cultivate that which softens, soothes and elevates our natures—something which will drive away dull care and instill in us new life, spirit and energy. Could there be a more pleasant or effectual means for bringing about the desired result than that of music ? Its place in the college world is clearly recognized, it fills a felt want. Of course as everything else it has its time and place, as there are occasions when it might put a person in a "beat-ing" frame of mind and especially is this true of the stu-dent. The singing of Miss Quito just reminds me of the painful fact that—that which sounds well does not always leave a good impression, (thinking of the Hanover-York trip), however, a few minors (not Freshman) only throw the richness of the majors more into prominence. Without doubt the instrument most universally used j and mastered by college men is the old reliable "frog-hv your-throat," tin horn and indeed I want to toot the same a little over the prospects of our Musical Clubs for the coming season. Almost fifty men responded to the call ^■■■^^^^^^^■■^^^^^^■^^H THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 25 for applicants, and although by the graduation of '97 we lost much excellent talent, yet we are glad to say that the musical abilities of the new men exceeded expectations and feel quite safe in predicting that our institution will be represented musically this year in a very creditable manner. A preliminary selection for the Glee and also for the Man-dolin, Banjo, and Guitar Club has been made and the boys are working hard, as already several dates have been ar-ranged. Efforts are being made to revive the old college orchestra, and we trust that the same may be completely successful. We would bespeak for the Clubs the united, hearty support of the student body. That the members are not working for their own financial gain is shown by their intention of turning over to the cause of athletics any proceeds which may result from their labors. This is indeed a most commendable move, one which has the true jingle-that of putting aside small interests and seek-ing to benefit old Gettysburg. Conscious that the "phrasing" of this little "toot" has not been of a sufficiently high tone and knowing that the final sentence of the same must have seemed to you, dear reader, to be about as slow as, well-adazio-in coming, with this parting blast I'll give you a "whole" rest—never B sharp in your criticisms, never B flat in your praise, but always B natural. C. T. L., '98. MY FIRST SMOKE. We were seated in our study Wheu my chum said, "Have a smoke ; This won't sicken anybody." So I tried just for a joke. The effect was soon alarming, 'Round and 'round me all things sped, Until nothing was so charming As my own dear springless bed. Not alone a head near splitting, Other strange things soon were felt, Pains and sickness intermitting In the regions of my belt. 26 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Matters had become so serious That uiy thoughts were not my own, Aud the words 1 said, delirious, Would not sound well 'round my home. If Proserpine and Pluto Hearkened to the prayeis I made, Chum won't chill, though winter's cold snow Freeze the grave where he is laid. H. M. C, '99. EDITORS' DESK. "Life is a page of paper white, Upon which each of us may write His word or two, and then conies night! Great^' begin, though thou hast time But for a line ; be it sublime! Not failure, but low aim is crime." -Lowell. ONE thing is strikingly lacking in our college life. It is the singing of songs that are distinctively our own. Occasionally we see a fair sized crowd able to unite on a strain of a song of the day, or on a stanza or two of some of the old favorites, but as a college body, we have nothing that we can call our sonq or songs, This is a serious deficiency in our college life. Take only a recent occurence, the rousing reception we gave to Mayor Strong and his party. After lusty cheer-ing and yells, and inspiring responses from our visitors were over, we all felt like singing. Here and there in the scattering crowd, a solitary voice sang out that "For Bonny Annie Laurie, I'd Lay Me Down and Die"; or per-chance, "My Bonny Lies Over The Oc^an"' uttered the far-away feeling of another. The typical college fellow, whose capacity for noise is never exhausted, declares his own wishes in, "There'll Be a Hot Time In The Old Town To-night"; but no song reached the universal heart. Here is the need—what is the remedy ? It is in tin composing and compiling of a book of "Gettysburg Col-lege Songs." A collection of this kind should contain I^^^^^^^Hi^^^^^HB^^^^H^^^^^^Hi^^M THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 27 number of original songs composed by students and alumni, and a careful selection from the songs which be-long to the college world in general, not forgetting the good old melodies that have come down from former ages. That we can publish such a book is not to be doubted a moment. The great number of men who sought for place on our Glee Club and Mandolin Club, our excellent Chapel singing, are only a few proofs that we have considerable musical ability represented in our number. Other colleges are not asleep on this point. All the larger institutions have a book of their own. Swarthmore has just published such a book. F. & M. students are busy composing special songs for Thanksgiving Day, when they hope to conquer Swarthmore on the gridiron. The students of Dickinson have recently organized into a musical association for the purpose of individual and col-lege advancement in this beautiful and uplifting art. Has Gettysburg nothing to sing about? Let us think and act. Let us no longer be content to write about the Col-lege and to talk about it. We want to sing and shout its praises! We believe that MERCURY hereby sounds a key-note to which students and alumni will chord. If the advance-ment of the College of late years is a true indicator of the future, all her friends will unite in a grand harmony and swell the praises of Alma Mater. We are listening. * * * NEVER before in the history of our College has a better time presented itself for the students to write literary articles of merit. Several professors are willing to direct the student along original lines and will help them in the development of something new, something worthy the attention of all. This is a grand opportunity to lead the students into methods of original thinking. It is a rare opportunity. A "rehash" of something old is weari-ness to the flesh. Aim at originality. You have the time, !i you seize it now. You have the brains, if you use them 28 THE GETTYSBURU MKRCURY. properly. You have the means of bringing your thoughts to the public. Are you going to do it ? * * IT is an unpleasant fact that a lack of the proper inter-est has characterized the work in our Literary Societies during this term. So far the majority of meetings have been held with not many more than a quorum present. Such a condition reflects not so much on the Societies as organizations, as on the individual members composing them. It clearly shows that they do not appreciate and take advantage of one of the most beneficial features of college life. To say that no other department in College furnishes more practical training and knowledge for the necessary intercourse and contact with others in life, than the Literary Society, is simply to repeat what has heen said hundreds of times by those who are in positions to know. The above statement is frequently made by those who neglected their opportunities in this respect, and only when the latter were gone did they realize their loss. Warning from such a source should certainly not be treated with indifference. It is to be hoped that every student of Penna. College will become alive to his own interests and take an active interest in Literary Society work. WHEN the majority of students are asked to do some work aside from the curriculum, there comes the reply— "I have no time now." There are only two conditions that will admit of such an answer. The students have either an over abundance of work or they waste too much time in doing it. A large percentage are subject to the latter condition. This becomes a great problem and one that deserves special attention. Each student must solve it for himself. You have often heard it said that if you want anything done promptly, go to the busiest man. This seems the reverse to what we might consider the true order of things. Yet it is practically true. The secret of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 29 it all lies in the fact that they have learned how to sys-tematize their work. They do not go at their duties as though they had an indefinite period of time in which to complete them. Only a definite period is allowed, and realizing that they must be done within the fixed limits, they set to work with an object in view. This requires close application, but. never fails to bring the desired results. WE are under great obligations to the many alumni who have already consented to conlribute. We trust that you will not wait for a spacial invitation, but will send us articles voluntarily We take pleasure in announcing a few authors and subjects which will appear in early num-bers: Dr. J. H. W. Stuckenberg, "Sociology"; Dr. P. Anstadt, "Dr. Schmucker"; Dr. M. H. Stine, "Early Mis-sions in Cal."; Dr. E. J. Wolf; Dr. J. W. Richard, "Fe-male Education in Germany"; Rev. Henry B. Wile; Capt. F. M. Ott, "The Hazleton Strike"; Prof. Stahl, Rev. A. R. Steck, Rev. H. C. Alleman, C. S. Duncan, Esq., Dr. E. S. Breidenbaugh, and other members of the faculty and alumni, together with articles by the students of Col-j lege and Seminary. ATHLETICS. Our Foot-Ball season has about come to a close. With regret, we must say that it was not as successful as first indications led us to expect; but there are reasons to be given why this was the case. First and foremost was the lack of proper coaching at the beginning of the season ; then, the injuries received iu our larger games by many of the players. The question naturally arises here whether it is advisable to play U. P. so early in the season. Granting that our men are taught many of the fiier points of the game and that our own College is brought before the people, is it advisable to risk so much where there is no possible chance of victory? Through this year's game with U. P., we lost the services of our captain for several weeks just at the time when he was most needed. When the team from the University of Maryland appeared on the field, 11 was seen that they averaged quite a great deal more than our team, but notwithstanding this fact our boys entered into the game with a dash. y continual "bucking of the line," the University boys advanced the ball 0 our twenty yard line. Then our boys stood determined to sell their ■ L 30 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. lives dearly; but in vain, for by short gains, the Maryland boys crossed the coveted goal line. The goal was kicked. The ball was again put in play. After an interchange of punts, Dale caught the ball on our 45-yard line, and by the aid of excellent interference, made a run of 65 yards for a touchdown. We scored once more in the first half, making the score 12—6 in our favor. In the second half University of Maryland scored once, but on account of violating a rule in regard to kicking a goal, Capt. Dale would not permit them the privilege of a trial at goal. This immediately caused a dispute, which finally ended by the Maryland boys leaving the field. Score, Gettysburg 12, U. of M. 10. Next came the long looked for Indian game. Their fame had come be" fore them, and to say that they did credit to it is expressing it mildly. This was the prettiest game to behold that was ever played at Gettysburg. The Indians had learned some plays from Princeton, which were almost impossible to be broken up. Their weight combined with the excellent plays which they used, made it possible for them to run up the big score of 82—o on us. The result of the game with Baltimore City College was never in dfuM. Our men, especially the tackles, made gains almost as they pleased. After many long runs around the ends, and frequent "bucking of the line," our boys at the end of the second halt had run the score up to 40—o. Length of halves, 20 and 10 minutes. On Saturday evening after the game, our coach, Mr. Thomas, left for his home, his work here being finished. He certainly must be commended for the good results he brought out of the limited material which he had at his disposal. H. C. R., '99. A GETTYSBURG GLEE BOOK. A much felt want in old Gettysburg is a college song book Students and others have realized this for years, but no active measures, to our knowledge, have been taken to remedy the matter. Why not start a move-ment now which will bring about the desired result ? We need a college song book. We can have a college song book. Why not say we will have a college song book ? If others can why not we ? Philo should have its song; Phrena should have hers. Gettysburg demands it. "Gettysburg College March" wouldn't be a bad title for one of the numbers on the pro-gram of the instrumental club. However it isn't necessary that a volume of entirely new music be ar ranged. For instance, in the Harvard song book, with the exception of 1 "Johnny Harvard" and a few other selections, the book is merely a collec-tion of the favorite songs of Harvard's sons. The writer has frequently been asked to sing some of Gettysburg's college songs; when he replied that he scarcely knew what to class a Gettysburg college song, a look ot | amazement greeted him. No wonder. All colleges have their songs. Only we haven't learned ours. You can't learn them with a few practices in the spring of the year on the college campus. Place the collection of our | H^^^^^BaaH ■^^^^■B THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 31 favorites within reach of our student body, then they will learn thern and that correctly. How can it be done? Swarthrnore's class of '98 undertook aud perfected such a work just recently. The Harvard Glee Club officials superintended their book. Committees have been appointed by the student body of other institutions? Can't we adopt one of these or some other scheme that may be convenient, to place within reach of the student body a song book, which, to every Gettysburg man is indispensable. Think the matter over. Offer your opinions aud suggestions. Let us remember, no matter what our other attainments may be, we are deficient if we never learu to sing the praises of old Gettysburg. X. Y. Z. '98. THE JUNIOR KANES. We told 'em awl to keep 'er mum; "Let not a word be said 'Til after awl the sticks have kum, And ev'ry bil's bin paid; And then we'll kerry kaues the day The Seniors ware the gown ; Aud hear the things the people say About us, in the town. Aforehaud must each Junior lern, With kane to walk about." 'Twas sed;—but soon in tern The guarded kat got out. Of korse the reazon waz quite plane ; But others soon kame out To show why Juniors used the kane,— Sum sed we had the gout. The worst of awl, was sumthin' 'bout "The steep and rocky path," "Their beasts of burden, awl plade out,"— "They must now use the staf." Our reazou's true, the mind iz strong, But flesh iz mighty week, And so to help the week along, The walkin' stick we seek. To everyone who knows our clas, It goes without a sayin'; And so they let the subject pas, 'Bout '99's new kane. J. N. K. H. 99- 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. OUR EXCHANGE TABLE. The Yale Literary claims to be the oldest magazine of its kind in the United States, having been established in 1836. Its looked-for visits to our desk will strengthen more family the heretofore pleasant relations existing between our institutions. The Senate of the State of Michigan has passed a bill prohibiting all foot-ball playing in the State. In England there are no college journals. The University of Paris leads the world with 11,733 students last year. Berlin follows with 9,375. The highest salary received by any college professor is that of Prof. Tur-ner, of Edinburgh, $20,000 per year. The University of Chicago now offers 1,086 courses. The Black and Red, published by the students of Northwestern Univer-sity, Watertowu, Wis., is about equally divided between the English aud German languages. WISE AND OTHERWISE. "Homicide and verbicide—that is, violent treatment of a word with fatal results to its legitimate meaning, which is its life—are alike forbidden. Manslaughter, whieh is the meaning of the one, is the same as man's laughter which is the end of the other."—Holmes. I kissed the maiden on one cheek, Then thought she tell her father; Instead she quotes from algebra, "Treat one side as the other." Blest be the tie that binds My collar to my shirt, Beneath its silk or satin folds It hides a week of dirt. I'm sure that there is one (It is a woman's style) By whom her love is won,— 'Tis shown by pretty smile ; But who it is, perchance, Is more than I can see ; She tells, O heartless glance! Her love is not for me. V* THE GETTYSBUKG MERCURY. 33 If last century a maiden Wished to send her love away, When he'd popped the fatal question, She would quietly answer "Nay." But an ardent, wooing love Only fifty years ago, If he did not suit the sweet one Would be crushed by one short "No." Now, however, if a fairy Wants to give her flame the mit, When he asks her to be "his'n," She will softly gurgle "Nit." Ex. Every man lives somewhere on the main line between honesty and knav-ery, none being at the extreme end in either direction. HK—"My head's almost on fire with the heat of the sun." SHE—"I was sure I smelled burnt wood somewhere."—Comic Cuts. "Who wrote the most, Dickens, Warren, or Bulwer?" "Warren wrote 'Now and Then,' Bulwer wrote 'Night and Morning,' and Dickens wrota 'All The Year 'Round.' " A girl wrote to her best fellow: Don't phale to be thar." He replied at once, "I'll be thar. There's no sech word as phale."—Ex. They say a most peculiar thing Has happened here in town ; A woman took her watch upstairs, And then the watch ran down. —Wellington Post. "My good fellow," said the dude to the hatter, "how's trade?" "There's really nothing in hats now-a-days," replied the hatter, trying one on the head of the dude.— Yonkers Statesman. There is a man down town who never pays for anything. He even goes to bed on tick. "I tell you, sir," said the realist, "I don't believe in taking anything for granted. In other words, I don't believe anything that I can't see." "Am I to understand," returned the idealist, "that you never kissed a girl in the dark?" Thus we see that the theories of a realist may go down before the realism of a theorist. 34 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. According to Darwin and others it takes a monkey thousands of years to make a man of himself; but a man can make a monkey of him-self in a minute. We lead the world,—Ex. "Pa," said Willie "I guess I know why matches are made in heaven It wouldn't be safe makin' 'em in the other place."—Harper's Bazaar. Alice—"What a gallant person Mr. Dunkley is. He never addresses me without beginning 'Fair Miss.' " Doroty—"Oh, that's force of habit. He used to be a street car conductor. —Clevela?id Leader. Bill—"Be't still a raining, Sam?" Sam—"Ah, that it be ; and not like to give over, neither. Bin a-coniin' down powerful, it 'ave. Why, I did 'ear say it's bin so bad up in London thet they're a-celebratin' the longest rain on record."— 'lit-Bits. 2fou uji'/t ft'/ttt a fu/t Una of SPure 'Drugs ocia/?y. J. A. TAWNEY Is ready to furnish clubs and boarding houses with ffiread, J^olls, do., at short notice and reasonable rates. Cor. Washington and Middle Sts , Gettysburg. *David Uroxel, DEALER IN FINE GROCERIES AND NOTIONS. Lg==York Street.^! *M0TEL GETTYSBURG* BfttBEft SHOP. GO TO Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON. -^TIPTON & BARBEHENN* BAfiB£fiS, In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Wainingtos Sti. MUMPER & BENDER, FURNITURE, Cabinet Making, Picture Frames, Baltimore St., - - GETTYSBURG, PA. "SIMON J. CODORI, —DEALER IN— BEEF, PORK, LAMB, VEAL, SAUSAGE, York Street, Gettysburg, 49»Special rates to clubs. Subscribe for ^-"s Seitysburg Wfercury. %il ACCUMULATED WEALTH. Laying up of riches isn't the only thing in life, for frequently a sour disposition is Ihe result. You want to take comfort in life as you gnaloug, one of the best ways to take com-fort is to buy well-fitting clothing. My Fall styles tire now here and the selection is lufue and varied. Suits made to your order from $12 up. Pressing and Repairing done at short no-tice. J D. MPPY. Merchant Tailor, 13 Clumbsrttsrg St., - - Settysburg, Ft. & E. SPAJY©L~E1^ Successor to J W. Eichollz & Co. DEALEU IN PIANOS, ORGANS, MUSIC, MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, STRINGS, Etc. YORK STREET First Square, Gettysburg. HOB CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA. Wright's Gngravintj Jfcouso ^AS become the recognized leader in iJI- uniquestvlesofCOLUCUE and FRA-TKUMTV ENURAVINGS and STATION-ERY. College and class Day Invital ons. en-graved and printed from steel plates; Pro-grammes, Menus,-Wedding and Reception Invitations, Announcements, etc., etc K.V araiue prices and styles before ordering elsewhere. 50 Vlsltlne Birds f.-om How Eng-ivoi Plats $1.03. ERNEST A. WRIGHT, ma Chestnut Street, - PHILADELPHIA. JOHN L. SHEADS, NEW CIGAR STORE Next door to W. M. Depot, Gettysburg, Pa. P. F. HENNIG, Bread, Soils, Pretzels and Crackers, YORK STREET, GETTYSBURG. ^"Reasonable Rates to Clubs. L. D. WjlLLER, 10 Main St , Gettysburg, Grocer Confectioner f and Fruiterer. ICECREAM and OYSTERS IN SEASON. GETTYSBURG, PA, - Main St. City Motel, FREE 'BUS TO AND FROM ALL TRAINS, RATES $,150 and $2,00 PER DAY, Thirty Socoaar Will from Eithir Depot. Hiy.XER WITH DRIVE OVER FIELD WITH 1, OR MORE $1.35. JOHN E. HUGHES. Prop'r. GO TO. G. A. BLOCHER'S ftwtlff Stilt FOR Souvenir Spoons, Sword Pins, &c. All Kinds of Jewelry. Repairing a Specialty. Post Office Coreer, Centre Square. if~J-—- PHOTOGRAPHED, No. 3 MAIN STREET, GETTYSBURG, PA-Out new Enameled Aristo Pot traits are equal to Photos made anywhere, and at any pi ice. » FOOT BALL SUPPLIES. Spalding League Ball, Iffits, Masks, etc. Managers should send for sam-ples and special rates Every requisite for Tennis, Golf, Cricket, Track and Field Gymnasium Equipments and Outfits. Complete Catalogue Spring and Summer Sports Free. "THE NAME THE GUARANTEE." A. G. SPAIDING & BROS., New York, Philailelphia, Chicago. S. G. Spangler & Co. f©ine . >^o- Telephone 39. 102 E. Middle St. S. J. Codori, c -*^lc)puggist. DEALER IN 2)ruys, TtyedicineSj "Uoiiet Sfr-tie/ es, Stationery, S/3ianAr ttoo/csj jfmateur iPho-toyrahic Supplies, E^, 2!) BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG. PA. SPECIAPAI-DTTTO'T,ON 60LLESE WORK. A Fine Collection of BATTLEFIELD VIEWS Always on hand. Mail Orders receive Prompt Attention. CALL OIM. F. N|4RK BREAM, The Carlisle Street Grocer, Who always has on hand a full line of fine Groceries. HOTEL * GETTYSBURJ UwAtoil no CVlitre Bqiuira win-re M,r|I Ian Hoitriu formerly Htond. j «£T7 iVIIUiG, FEX.vJM RATES $2 PER DAM It is the acknowledged I.ciidifl Hotel of Gettysburg. !k-agH througrnut with Sn inn ; hotTB cold Untlis: commodious Safl pie Rooms; liiiiiiig-riiiini cupgH ity, 2UU; has a I uisiue ofrM excellence. Headquarters ra| League of American tth.rlmeM Headquarters, commercial tijH elers. Headquarters, milituryiH civic societies. Free 'bus [c'ajfl from all trains. H. & D. K. MILLER, PROPRJ E'MER « flKIENP, Manufacturers and Importers of ^ ^ CHEMICALS *-» CHEMICAL 205, 207, 209 & 211 Third Ave., Corner 18th St., pinest Bohemian and German Glassware. Royal Berlin and Meissen Porcelain, Purest Hammered Platinum, Balancesand Weights, Zeiss Micro- scopes, and Bacteriologica Apparatus, Chemically Pure Acids, and Assay Goods. t_£—'Established 1876.—£J-> WAT6HMAKEF AND rlEWELER, Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons. College Souvenir Spoons. No. 10 Balto. St. - GETTYSBURG, PA. THE Lutheran! PUBLISHING H0US1 _^^No. 42 North 9U1 St.J PHILADELPHIA, PA.1 Acknowledged Headquarters [i .r in the way of BOOKS FOR CHURCHES, FAMILItM COLLEGES AND SCHOOLS, AXD I LITERATURE, FOR SUN-DAY SVAOOLS. PLEASE BEMEMBEB That by sending your orders to usyoS help build up and develop one of the] Churche's institutions, with pccmiiaifl advantage to yourself. Address HENRY S. BONER, SUP'T, No. 42 North 9th PHIL A BARBER ^SHC 3. Qharles (5-. Se/^or"» ^ Proprietor, BALTIMORESTEEBM The Place for Students to Go, Only First-class Tonsorinl norH

Issue 67.2 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Challenges Witnessing Being Disciples Ignatian Exercising QUARTERLY 67.2 2008 Re view for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to liveaccording to charisms, of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paulvl said_, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ° Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib S'(/'D QUARTERLY 67.2 2008 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 134 challenges No Escape from Finitude John Navone SJ reflects about our struggle for human growth, our development with all its limitations, !n relation to our transformation through the risen Christ. Personal and Group Reflection Being Burned by the Fire Mary Joseph Schultz SCC ponders candles and fire and their symbolism in our spiritual life and growth. 114 140 159 witnessing Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley Avis Clendenen explores episodes from the lives of two churchwomen, the 12th-century Benedictine H]ldegard of Bingen and the 19th-century founder of the'Sisters of Mercy, Catherine McAuley, which show the duty and daring needed then and now in leadership that is transforming and transformational. Weavers of God: The Warp and the Weft Jeanne McNulty SFO, OCV, draws upon the art of weaving as an image of effort and pattern in our spiritual life. Review for Religious 165 173 181 being disciples Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment Damian C. Ilodigwe shows how Peter's forthright confession of Jesus as Son of the living God accentuates the importance of personal encounter with the Lord for authentic discipleship. Personal and Group Reflection Seeing with the Eyes of Christ Peter Schineller sJ suggests some practical ways that the imitation of Christ can become our way of seeing, thinking, and acting with the eyes, mind, and hands of Christ. The Celibate Aunt or Uncle: Another Blessed Vocation John J. Fisher OSFS describes the grace and gift of family as not only enriching our vocation as religious but also defining who we are as we minister to our wider, extended family in our various apostolates. Personal and Group Reflection 190 196 ignatian exercising What Is a "First Week Retreat"? David L. Fleming SJ presents a way of understanding the First Week of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, often called "sin week," as a time that is about deepening a relationship with God. Is the Church Ignatius's Fourth-Week Focus? J. Thomas Hamel SJ suggests that the Fourth Week of the Ignatian Exercises, which deals with the appearances of the risen Christ, might take' on a more ecclesial look as a kind of triptych. departments 204 Scripture Scope: The Letters and Theology of Paul 209 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon 215 Book Reviews lly 67.2 2008 prisms O~ 2 February 1974, Pope Paul VI issued his apostolic exhortation Marialis cul-tus. Following up on the liturgical reforms of Vatican I1, the pope desired to identify clearly the age-old norm for all theological and devo-tional development regarding the place of Mary in our Catholic lives. As the pope wrote, "In the Virgin Mary everything is relative to Christ and dependent upon him. It was with a view to Christ that God the Father from all eternity chose her to be the all-holy Mother and adorned her with gifts of the Spirit granted to no one else" (25). The norm is that Mary is always viewed in her relation to Jesus. Liturgical art, both Eastern and Western, has traditionally portrayed Mary with Jesus in its icons, statues, and paintings. It appears that it is only in the 19th and 20th centuries, espe-cially with the Lourdes and Fatima devotions, that the statues and paintings picture Mary by herself. The famous tilma-image of Our Lady Review for Religious of Guadalupe from the 16th century is not an exception. Mary is a woman wearing the broad band around her waist that signifies her pregnancy. Appropriately, then, our traditional imaging of Mary is always stressing her basic title from the earliest church councils. She is Theotokos--the Greek word meaning "the one who bears God." Mary is the first of the apostles; she is always the one who brings Jesus (God) to whom-ever she goes. From our New Testament account, we know that the event we identify as the Visitation follows immediately upon the Annunciation. Mary brings Jesus to her cousin Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist. Mary's place in all our Christian lives remains the same as it was for Elizabeth. She is a woman always on mission. She brings Jesus (God) to us. As a result, she remains for each one of us a model of our own Christian vocation. We all are meant to be like Mary in the light of our baptism in Christ. We too are "theotokoi"--people who bring Christ to whomever we go. We are like Mary, our model. We, too, are always on mission. We bring Christ by our way of speaking and acting or just by our way of being present to others. In every situation of our daily living, we Christians are on mission, bringing Christ to others. David L. Fleming SJ Miss Jean Read, an RfR staff member from 1975 to 1998, died peacefully on 23 February 2008 at the age of 96. Answering the office phone, she was the soul of friendliness and readiness to accommodate people in whatever questions or needs or desires they had. She was a proofreader par excellence. We can have a healthy envy of her and her long and good life. 67.2 2008 JOHN NAVONE challenges No Escape from Finitude Life stories, true life stories, involve a struggle from the start. We have complex relationships to work out with the members of our family. We are marked by our early experiences for the rest of our lives, even though changes occur in the way we perceive events, imagine ourselves, understand others, and choose to act at various stages of our life. As our life goes on, changes become more and more difficult. 1181 Human Authenticity Calls for Struggle People hope to grow in sensitivity and responsiveness to true values, but such growth is not inevitable. There are human failures and mediocrities. Continuous development varies with people's roots, their opportunities, their good fortune, their adroitness in avoiding set-backs. People can come to recognize harmful, John Navone SJ has written for this journal for more than four decades. His address is Via Silvio Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze; Italy. Review for Religious dangerous, and misleading satisfactions for what they are and drop them. They can choose not to let discom-fort, pain, and privation obstruct their pursuit of true values. They can discover values they had previously overlooked. They can move beyond mere personal tastes and interests to benevolence and beneficence towards others. They can disdain rationalizations, open them-selves to things as they are, and help themselves and others to become what they should be. This is a matter of creative tension struggling towards personal integration. Various conflicting claims and urgencies divide us. Our human relationships can-not be free of all constraint or ambiguity. Our authentic personal development needs questions and problems no less than answers and solutions. In fact, every answer and solution prepares us for the creative tension of fur-ther questions and problems. We develop when we are steadily oriented toward goals which strain our personal resources and are truly worthwhile. Tension between Desires and Limits We experience a tension between our desires and our limits. Desire, imagination, and inquiry would seem to have no fixed limits; a corollary of the absence of limits would be the absence of any need to choose. We learn from experience which desires are impractical and to be dismissed. False or exaggerated ideals, desires, and plans could lead to negative consequences, and so we deliberate about what actually can be implemented. We settle on a possible course of action and proceed. Such a decision implies the acceptance of limits. As G.K. Chesterton wrote: "Every act of will is an act of self-limitation. To desire action is to desire limitation. In that sense every act is an act of self-sacrifice. When ,I19 67.2 2008 Navone * No Escape from Finitude Christian faith does not believe that the tension between desire and you choose anything, you reject everythingelse . If you become King of England, you give up the post of Beadle in Brompton." Goods chosen imply goods renounced. Our decisions ratify and increase our.limitations. Our commitments imply our acceptance of limitation. Our desires, hopes, dreams, and ideals strain against that limitation, but limits remain even when our desires are fulfilled. Jesus Christ, the paradigm of Christian faith, never sought exemption from limits, decisions, or death. Christian faith is lived in the concrete realities of finitude and resists flight into illusion. With no escape from finitude, it relies on God's will and grace. Our actions are sustained by desire of some kind. We seek to attain something we deem good, straining __ against limits. Changing our-selves or our situation implies an ideal which limits should be resolved by differs from our present reality. eliminating desire. This ideal must have come to terms with lim-its; if not, it would remain an empty dream. Christian faith does not believe that the tension between desire and limits should be resolved by eliminating desire. A contemporary theologian says: "For Buddhism, the supreme perfection is to kill desire. How distant the men of the Bible, even those closest to God, seem from this ideal! The Bible is, on the contrary, filled with the tumult and conflict of every form of desire D.e.sire is essential and ineradicable." 120 Review for Religious The Challenge of Serious Decision Making Often our reluctance to make serious decisions and choices is less a fear of suffering than a secret dread that permits few illusions or certainties about what will fol-low. We share with Hamlet the tendency to indefinite postponement; we might, with Heyst in Joseph Conrad's Victory, choose drift. Even that fails. Heyst elect~ some-thing that is not there to elect: security by withdrawal and passivity. Persons who choose to ignore the demands of their circumstances choose what is itself a form of death. Our very needs become known to us as inner tensions, and the way we strive to fill them requires choice. A good choice relieves the tension. Other needs will become evident later, and other choices can attend to them. If our inner tensions imply our need for new deci-sions, our decisions demand awareness and strength. The lack of such strength makes us pathetic. On the other hand, strength is of no use if we are not aware of alternatives. If decisions are to be fully free and human, all that one knows must come into play, and one's will-ingness to detect self-deception. The Second Vatican Council gives expression to the inner tension within which our decision making takes place: The truth is that the imbalances under which the modern world labors are in line with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For in man himself, many elements wres-tle with one another. Thus, on the one hand, as a creature, he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other~ he feels him-self to be boundless in his desires and sum-moned to a higher life. Pulled by manifold attractions, he is constantly forced to choose among them and to renounce some. (GS §10) 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No E~cape from Finitude Fear of Insignificance There is a tension at the heart of every human life story, which Ernest Becker describes as the fear of insig-nificance. This tension reflects the human nature at the heart of the life story. As a contemporary author puts it: "Man has a symbolic identity that brings him sharply out of nature. He is a symbolic self, a creature with a name, a life history. He is a creator with a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity." At the same time, "man is a worm and food for worms." He lives in the tension of his duality. His inner self enjoys freedom of thought, imagination, and the endless reach of symbolism; his body limits, however, determine and bind him. This tension is aggravated by the fact that we are not living among ideal persons in an ideal, world. From the aggra-vation of our basic predicament, we often seek pseudo-solutions to avoid having to face the tragic aspect of life. Rousseau taught the French Revolution that people were good and institutions evil, so reorganize the institutions, and people will be able to be good. He assumed that, by their own unaided efforts, people could create institutions to resolve all their tensions and conflicts. 122 Development within Limits Some lives are more integrated than others; some are more full of conflict. We can search for our own true story only within certain limits of possibility and prob-ability. The recognition and acceptance of these limits is, in fact, the only way to the realization of our true story-- the story most appropriate to our authentic possibilities. Tensions are aggravated when we try to be what we cannot be, when we pretend to be other than we are. They are aggravated at the social level when a political ideology engenders in the masses a passionate hope for a utopia Review for Religious without the means to attain it. Both individuals and societ-ies can miss their true stories through self-deception with regard to their true and limited possibilities. Detachment from self-interest and bias is difficult to achieve. We sense the gap between our possibilities and our actual moral achievements. Awareness of our moral inadequacy cre-ates a tension which we often attempt to resolve through rationalization, a "cover story" that is out of joint with our experience. Guilt, rationalization, and self-deception imply the painful experience of moral finitude in our aspiration toward values and our true possibilities. Creative Crises The personal crises of a life story are often turbu-lent, but they do not necessarily have the disintegrating effect of severe mental illness. The powerful emotions which erupt from a personal crisis can signify a per-sonal liberation from false beliefs and lead to a more productive life'. One can emerge a stronger and better person. Some hardship, suffering, or mental anguish is the lot of everyone. These things are potentially creative; they can help individuals improve the quality of their inner self. Economic prosperity and a good educational system are no guarantee of personal morality, charac-ter, and maturity. People grow by passing through such critical periods as coming of age, getting married, the birth and raising of children, and the advent of bereave-ments, old age, and dying. Frustration, too, may assist personal development, for character and personality are achieved through overcoming difficulties with patience, intelligence, and persistence. Getting all we want when we want it does little towards personal development; it even seems to preclude personal growth. 123 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude Some hardship, suffering, or mental anguish is the lot of everyone: The psychiatrist Kazimierz Dabrowski has developed a theory of mental growth through positive disintegra-tion. He holds that, to achieve a thorough integration of the cognitive, moral, social, aesthetic, and other such human functions, one must undergo a disintegration of a previous integration. The positive disintegra-tion of an integration characterized by biologi-cal determinism, automa-tism, rigidity, stereotyping, and a lack or low degree of consciousness is effected by a growing insight into oneself and others and a con-scious and deliberate adoption of other multilevel and multisided understandings. 124 The Correlative Notion of Self and God Our personal history in the use of the word "God" may reflect a maturation process characterized by criti-cal turning points and creative suffering. Inasmuch as our notions of self and God are correlatives, we may uncover something about our own identity by exploring our encounters with the word "God" in our personal crises. If Christ means "he who saves us from a self-centered existence," personal crises may be prerequisites for finding God's true value in our lives. Concentration on self-preservation and self-satisfac-tion, on what appears to keep us from harm, turns love in on itself and blocks it from going out to God and oth-ers. It is good if our personal crises liberate us to live in society with God and neighbor. Never to be free from self-concern about our slightest needs is the condition Review for Religious of alienation from God and neighbor. It is only in our God-given ability to respond to God's self-surrendering love that we can be free to live and love anything other than ourselves. Personal maturation entails suffering in confronting crises in our lives. Carrying our cross daily implies the Christian conviction that, to understand scriptural truth adequately, we need to experience the cross in our lives. Those who can freely lay down their lives for their ide-als and values are persons who have been strengthened by their Master's mission and by their joyful awareness of being loved by him. Such freedom comes from expe-riencing with others a grand participation in God's life of self-giving love. If our notions of the self and God are correlatives, they alert us to the suffering of others, to the reality of their condition, the condition of all those to whom we are related and whom God loves. The Book of Genesis affirms the goodness of the world when it describes God affirming the goodness of it. The compassion that Jesus felt for the afflicted is the compassion of his Father. Not only our notions but also our feelings about the self and God are cor-relative. A reasonable love for oneself betokens a rea-sonable love for others. Its reasonableness includes a profound awareness of the self as gift, as dependent for its existence on the loving generosity of the Giver. Our personal crises should help us to mature in our under-standing of the love which the Giver expresses in his gift of the self and other selves; they remind us that we are not autonomous monads, that our existence and happiness depend on others. Adrian Hastings affirms that cruel people want a cruel God, and cruelty has been a characteristic of human society: the sadism and masochism of the human 6Z2 2008 Navone * No Escape from Finitude race time after time create a face of God as cruel as itself. Old Testament theology could not be unaffected by the cruel divinities all around and the cruelty of the Israelites themselves; still, Hastings believes, the heart-rending struggle of the Old Testament was to show that such was a false face of God, that Yahweh is not mer-ciless but merciful. Our behavior reflects the face of God that we see. What we do or do not do expresses the meaning of our God-talk; our behavior reflects the healthiness or unhealthiness of our vision. 126 The Face of God in Christ Crucified The face of God is revealed in personal crises. Jesus on the cross reveals the compassionate face of God. "Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father" On 4:18). For Christians the cruelty of the cruel cannot express the nature of God; rather, it is the most outra-geous denial of it. A personal face, the face of Jesus, the suffering and crucified Messiah, is the face of the God of love and compassion. This is the reality which the apostolic church communicates in its preaching: "We preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). Those who die with Christ rise with him; the cross is the security of Christians. The evangelists speak of the cross in considerable detail, for this is the story of Jesus' ministry making available the way to God. To preach the cross is to preach the resurrection; for it is the message of the cross that sets us free: "dead, yet here we are alive" (2 Co 6:9). On the cross the Son of Man recovered our lord-ship in and over creation, through the obedience for which we Were created. The true face of God is revealed in the Crucified; the loving obedience of Christ is for Review for Religious Christians the model of the perfect self. What Christ has done at Calvary creates and shapes our notion of God, the correlative of our notion of the self that is Christ. Calvary reveals a God who serves his creatures with a compassionate, healing, and community-creating love; it is God giving his life for his people in the high priest who is also victim. Calvary expresses the loving servanthood of God in Christ which gives direction to Christian faith and action. The stoW of Jesus is the stoW of God waiting on us: "The blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them" (Mt 11:5). It is the story of a costly, commit-ted, and constant Love that prevails over death. Jesus' life is the parable of God's rule, the embodiment of God's diakonia. Paul appeals to this when he says, "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Ga 6:2). The way of the cross is the way of Christian maturation in a life of theocentric self-transcendence. It is the way to meet personal and social crises, not a way of escaping them. To preach the cross is to , Treach the resurrection. Communion: God's Purpose for Us All The suffering of Calvary transformed the Jewish con-cept of Messiah among the first Christians. At the Last Supper, Jesus waits on his disciples. The servant who waited at table in Jesus' day was the diakonos. Now Jesus, the master, in washing the feet of his disciples, performs the new diaconal deed, the embodiment of agape: "A new {_/27 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude 128. commandment I give to you, that you love one another even as I have loved you" (Jn 13:34). "As I have loved you" points to God's kind of love, the love of costly self-giving. The diaconal deed of the Last Supper expresses the saving, community-creating love of service and friend-ship. According to John's Gospel, Jesus thought of his disciples as sharing in his diaconal work of cosmic redemption. "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (3:16). "In the world you have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world" (16:33). "He who believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I go to the Father" (14:12). Communion through Self-Expending Love Acts of self-expending love for others, rather than out-of-the-body experiences, are Christians' usual confir-mation of the life after death that the risen Jesus' appear-ances express: "We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brethren" (1 Jn 3:14). Paul relates Christ's love to our Christian belief in life after death: "I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 8:38-39). The completion of God's purposes for his entire creation and our individual destiny are indivisible, for our lives occur and develop in community. Our lives are incomplete without a depth of fellowship with God and with others, even though this fellowship is only a fore-taste of our joyful participation in God's glorious life, which is the ultimate object of our Christian hope. Review for Religious The Christian vision of God is incompatible with indifference to injustice and the suffering of others. Its vision is of a trinitarian God whose being is in commu-nity, and whose self-expending love creates community. In the light of this vision, salvation is participation with others in the goodness and beauty of God's self-giving love: "Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on us what God has prepared for those who love him" (1 Co 2:9). Life and Death in the Paschal Mystery For Christians the risen Christ is the focal point of a theme common to all religions, the pursuit or convic-tion of the ultimate nature of reality. The resurrection of Christ is the key to meaningful life in a numinous but incomplete world. This awesome and fascinating event~ysterium tremendum et fascinans--is at the heart of the life coming out of death that is shown in love of our brothers and sisters (1 Jn 3:14). It is the key to understanding the fulfillment of our life stories in the perfect community of God's kingdom, and also to understanding the mission of the church in solidarity with all humankind. The community of Christian faith interprets the life story of Jesus Christ as a divine summons to a personal and social transformation that requires prayer, informed conscientiousness, and appropriate action. Paul is the community's spokesman both when he preaches what God has done for us in Jesus Christ and in his recogni-tion that the "old man," the old self, self-centeredness, does not die a sudden death. There is a phenomenol-ogy of both life and death at every level of our con-sciousness. There are incontrovertible signs of physical death, and there are incontrovertible signs of physical 129 67.2 2008 Na~one ¯ No Escape from Finimde life. There are similar signs at the psychic, affective, intellectual, and spiritual levels of our existence which are perhaps not as readily discerned. Many of the names or titles referring to Jesus are metaphors, Tides for the Life-Enhancing Jesus Metaphor is a way of grasping the unknown through the known, of relating our former experience, to our new experience. Our metaphors say a great deal about what we are, or are like, and about what we are becoming. They can express the self and help in telling life stories. They are a clue to our feelings about our relationships and about the Mystery which is their context. Many of the names or rifles referring to Jesus are metaphors. Jesus defines himself in terms of the life-enhancing effect he has on others, an effect which cre-ates a community. To John's disciples he says: "Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, good news is proclaimed to the poor, and happy is the one who does not lose faith in me" (Lk 7:22-23). Jesus is what he does. He is sight for the blind, legs for the lame, purity for lepers, word for the deaf, good news for the poor, and the happiness of the believer. The community of faith manifests the new consciousness that Jesus Christ creates. Jesus' life shows the previous deficiency of individual and communal human existence. People diagnose illness from their awareness of what constitutes good health. Review for Religious Human Transformation through the Risen Christ "Almost twenty centuries have elapsed since the Christ-event took place, and yet no completely satisfy-ing overall explanation of that fact has been proposed," states Joseph Mitros sJ. Theological studies, the sciences, and philosophy have opened new vistas concerning the origin of humankind and its physical and moral state, concerning the problem of evil and liberation from it. These achievements and the data they provide must be evaluated and then integrated into present knowledge before more satisfying answers can be found. There is, however, no doubt among Christians about the risen Christ, the transformation of the apostles, and the community of Christian faith. The apostolic, evangelical, patristic, medieval, modern, and contem-porary theological attempts to explain the Christ-event originate in the reality of Jesus Christ's resurrection. Clement of Alexandria taught that the incarnate Logos illuminates the believer with his own incomparable light. Athanasius and Cyril of Alexandria wrote elo-quently of Christ as the light of the world and as the giver of the Spirit of truth, transforming humankind through enlightenment. There is no single formulation of the .doctrine of the Christ-event in the patristic period. The exemplarist tra-dition describes the effect of the risen Christ primarily as moral regeneration, a redirection of the human mind and heart. The Western liturgical tradition tends to note what Christ's self-giving love has achieved for others. The Eastern liturgies see the event as a rescue and a healing. Christ the victor has enabled us to experience a deliverance from evil, whereas Christ the illuminator explains our entry into a life-giving reality. Humankind has been brought from darkness to light, from blindness 13,1 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude to vision, from bondage to freedom, from turmoil to peace, through our participation in Christ's gift of his Holy Spirit, through our divinization (theosis), through our becoming brothers and sisters of Christ and sons and daughters of his Father. The experience of the lex orandi, of communion with the risen Christ in prayer, stimulates theological reflec-tion on his life story throughout the centuries. It bears witness to tile resurrection as God's action on behalf of humankind and as the transformation of humankind in relation to God. Christian Hope Transcends All Images For every doctrine which sees human lives in rela-tion to Jesus Christ's life stow, the elements of divine and human, of once-and-for-allness and human fulfill-ment, are essential. The saving effect of the risen Christ on our life stories is interpreted according to different models of various cultures throughout the centuries. When they clarify how, through the risen Christ, we may live life more fully, they serve God's people well. The community of faith, however, lives in a state of tension, aware of its limitations. It is only on the way to the fullness of life in the kingdom of God. Our present situation feels precarious, and the future kingdom seems remote. There is .tension between the kingdom to be revealed at the end of history and that same kingdom already present in the Christian faith community and in the lives of individuals going through the stages of their own life stories. Christians live in hope. There is a continuity between this hope and the grace-filled pull of God's eternal kingdom. There is, however, an obscurity surrounding this kingdom. The reason, according to Kevin McNamara, Review for Religious is that the object of our hope is none other than God, the question-raising and question-answering Mystery at the heart of all human life. And so any clear and definite idea of our true future can only be provisional. Christians cannot commit themselves absolutely to any blueprint for human happiness. We are always aware that something is missing, that our true hope eludes all human definition and planning. Josef Pieper says this about hope: "What marks the true hope is that [a per-son] holds himself in readiness for a fulfillment which goes beyond every imaginable human postulate." Hope, nevertheless, experiences the goodness and promise of the Mystery encompassing our life stories. Christian hope, defined by the Christ story, is not without some positive knowledge of what the future kingdom will be like. The titles and names of Jesus, the doctrines and models with which the church discusses our diviniza-fion in Christ, are all attempts to express this positive knowledge of and hope for the kingdom of God. Personal and Group Reflection 1. How have I handled the tension between realizing my desires and, by shutting out other possibilities, experiencing my limits? When have I experienced this tension as bringing me closer to Christ? 2. What is my response to the statement: "The face of God is revealed in personal crises" (p. 126)? 3. What name or title for Jes~s is my favorite? Can I explain the meaning of this title? " 67.2 2008 MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Being Burned by the Fire 134] l have come to set the earth on fire, and how I .~. wish it were already blazing" (Lk 12:49). Last year my mind and heart were caught up in this Gospel verse from a Sunday liturgy. Some phrase spoken by the homilist hit a nerve in me and inspired me to pon-der the symbolism and the reality of fire. Why do we use a flame to witness to the Eucharistic Presence in our tabernacles? Why are candles and flames frequent symbols of religious life? What is the primal image of fire saying to me today? How might God use me and my community to set the world ablaze? Open to the Fire Though I have never learned the art of creating fire, I know that kin.dling a flame from scratch requires effort, concentration, and patience. It also requires the proper materials. Using a match is so much easier, but how much more satisfying it must be to create a fire Mary Joseph $chultz SCC last wrote for us in our 65.2 (2006) issue. Her address is Assumption College for Sisters; 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. Review for Religious using only rudimentary materials, persistent friction, and breath! Long ago Jesus desired to create a spark in me, at the first beckoning to religious life, when I was a child. He chose me, the most rudimentary of kindling, unknown middle child, shy and backward, plain and unassuming, and invited me to leave home and lend myself to the creation of fire. Calling me to join, at fourteen, a small and little-known religious community in a tiny, obscure New Jersey town, he knew his plan. He desired to use me as kindling, if only I would agree. The dry ordinari-ness of my life could actually catch fire more easily, I suppose. I was easily uprooted and picked up, and will-ingly I came. The chafing and friction began at once. Over these forty years, there has been constant rubbing. Isn't that what community life is for, at least in part? The twig with so many rough edges has lent herself to the Divine Hand. Personalities, assignments, self-knowledge, faults, losses, illnesses, disappointments and shattered idols-- all were offered for the kindling, warmed by the Spirit's breath, and the friction came fast, furious, and constant. How else to create a fire? God rarely uses a match! The twigs of my life were all laid bare, bark removed, and the quickening hand chafed a new spark, a blaze to be used for others. The breath of the Spirit has been ever present, gende, and at times unsettling, fanning the spark into flame. Imagine the patience of God! Most times the liv-ing Wind has been imperceptible to the kindling, stir-ring up smoke and covering its source, always keeping the promise of a blaze alive. Persistent breath needs to change direction if one side is unresponsive. The Breath never gives up in its passionate desire for flame. 135 67.2 2008 Scbultz, ¯ Being Burned by the Fire Eventually the Spirit came with greater urgency, the kindling was in just the right place and disposition for the fire to catch. Now the Breeze was more needed than ever to sustain the blaze, as is still the case. Where would I be without the constancy of the Spirit, nourishing, lighting, stoking the flame, and keeping the blaze alive? As I approach a fire I can choose to take one of three gtances: warmth, risk, or consummation, 136 Coming Close: Warmth, Risk, Consummation As I approach a fire I can choose to take one of three stances: warmth, risk, or consummation. Coming close, especially on a winter day, the warmth is delight-ful. It sets me at ease, calms the shivering limbs, and holds out to me a promise of comfort. I drop my burdens and begin to loosen my wraps, undo the scarves with which I am bound up, and settle in near the comforting warmth. The fireplace can be romantic., a rosy glow to melt away harsh realities and frozen relationships . . . the honeymoon of novitiate days and early ministries when all was right with the world. Soon a promise (threat?) of change creeps into the heart. The Spirit Breath is still blowing. The flames lick higher. Should I choose to back off?. Why risk losing comfort? The rosy glow lulls me, even into a trancelike state. It becomes easy to go through the motions of reli-gious life, near the fire but not in it. Content to observe, being warmed and even nourished, I need to take no risks and I am definitely not consumed. Safety is compromised Review for Religious by getting too close to the Fire, too involved. If I get too near I will be burned. And yet It draws me. I come closer, even at times reach out a hand, and I am singed. Fire purifies, but only when I am close enough. Gold is not refined, iron is not melted, food is not cooked, and a wick is not set alight when kept at a safe distance. I am useless unless I allow the Fire to surround me, catch hold and use me, draw me in to consume. For what else am I saving my life? The flames beckon, even mesmerize, as I contemplate them, but I had better be aware of the risks if I choose to draw closer. The Fire is painful. Over the years when times of suffering enveloped me I have rarely realized the close-ness of God. On the contrary, God seemed utterly dis-tant, mere vapor on the horizon. Only in retrospect did I realize that it was God's closeness and my immersion in the Fire that caused the pain. I could not draw close to a Flame without being burned. Risky? Yes! But also so necessary to be a part of the blaze set upon the earth. Being one with the Fire fulfills my purpose in being. Was I not called to be a holocaust? To remain on the periph-ery, insipid and lukewarm, might be safe, but it is surely not productive. Leaving the rosy, romantic glow of the fireplace to jump into the Blaze is what religious life is all about. I need to be enveloped if I am to be of any use. Being Fire Wood that is caught, right in the middle of the fire, takes on the appearance of the fire itself and loses its own identity. The log glows from within. No longer do sparks dance on the edge, no longer is there only risk of being singed, but now the blaze works its magic from the core. It consumes the willing fuel. Fire and fuel can no longer be separated. 67.2 2008 Schultz ¯ Being Burned by the Fire Leaving the rosy, romantic glow of the fireplace to jump into the Blaze is fohat religious life is all about, 138 Fire burns away the dross and purifies only as much as the wood lends itself. If I resist, roll away, fall off the pile back to a safe distance, my comfort zone, I will not be touched. I will save myself, but for what? I might still feel the warmth as I seek to return to the "safety" of my earlier days. But once I risk being part of a conflagra-tion I cannot go back or run away. My already singed self tells the tale. I had caught the light and begun to burn. Now nothing but total consumption can satisfy me. Why pretend otherwise? I have also learned that seasoned wood burns the best. Wood too moist, too green, too full of sap (self) leaves no room for the flame to take hold. It sizzles, spits, and smokes, too little fire to be of much use. I must let myself be alone to dry, to be cured, even to unfeeling brittleness, as the sap is drained from me and I lie lifeless on the ground, forgotten for the time being. The Stoker of the Fire will again pick me up when I am ready, gather me when I can be of most use, when the flames can really do their job. What does it mean to become Fire? To me it means nothing less than being Jesus, the Light of the world. He is the one who called me, the kindling. He lets me lie at times, unused because I am not yet useful., too green and full of the self-sap that deters the flame. I need to be seasoned, over and over again, dried out and left alone. Only when I am ready will he gather me up Review for Rdigious for kindling, hold me close and breathe his Spirit, all the while applying friction where most needed, turn-ing me this way and that, harder and faster for sparks to catch. There is nothing else for me but to become Fire. In this is my purpose, the purpose, I believe, of all religious men and women. Let God throw me into the Fire. Let Jesus take me over, glow in me, radiate warmth and light, and let me be a part of the blaze ignited by Love on earth. Let me be part of something much bigger than myself. In my consummation my life is fulfilled. Unveiled Hide not Your face. Show me Your face. And though that sight Be my death, I shall live indeed. Show me that incandescent, Altogether lovely face, That earth-splitting, Sky-rending, Fire-kindling face. Be my sole desire, Burn bright in me Until I am molten gold Reflecting only You. Teresa Burleson 139 67.2 2008 AVIS CLENDENEN witnessing Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley Do you remember having a Jeremiah experi-ence once a long time ago? You told God "I am only a youth" and God said, "Be not afraid for I am with you" (Jr 1:4-8). Do you remember that first consciousness of being called, when the clay of youth was moist and malleable? A time when you took for granted that the Potter was on your side, shaping you? When you felt that you and your companions were singing the new church into being? In your commu-nity, do you notice treasure dwindling away? In the anxiety and bewilderment of this our time, how desperately do you seek to prevent further loss? In these days, when I find myself among women and men religious to share faith and 140 Avis Clendenen wrote for us in the September-October issue of 1999. She is professor of Religious Studies at Saint Xavier University; 3700 West 103 rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Review for Religious community, I sometimes think of recalcitrant clay and a frustrated Potter. I wonder if some have adapted Jeremiah's words from "too young" to "too old": "Ah, Lord God! I am weary from speaking the truth in love. Our best days are behind us. I am too old." And God says: "Do not say, 'I am too old,' for even now to all to whom I send you you will go; be not afraid, for I am with you to deliver you." Jeremiah would understand and empathize with the disillusionment, even terror, of feeling that life is falling apart. The youthful Jeremiah found himself in the stocks in midlife. His view (Jr 20:1-9) provides a window into his soul. Walter Brueggemann reminds us that it is in prayer that this prophet of deep dispute finds sustenance for his life and ministry; he finds sus-tenance, however, only in continued dispute. Can you imagine the dialogue as Jeremiah struggles with the God who called him to his vocation in the first place?2 Was he not the one to whom Yahweh addressed the lovely words of "knowing him before he was formed in the womb, consecrating him, and appointing him prophet to the nations"? The help in destabilizing situ-ations, Brueggemann proposes, is honest conversation that draws God in deep and thick.3 Brueggemann goes on to say: "This is the very God to whom prayers can be reliably made, not a therapeutic God, not a warm fuzzy, not a dear uncle, but God of hosts, God with hard capacities and stern resolves. Jeremiah prays to and trusts this God, because alone he cannot withstand his persecutors and he will not appeal to a God who is kind but helpless.''4 Jeremiah's confinement is the kiln of his becoming. He finds a deep freedom; he finds duty and daring, cour-age for the next challenge. He is the patron prophet of 141 67.2 2008 lendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley 142 The Christian faith itself is built upon anamnesis/ best days ever before us, not behind us. What we know about the ministerial vocation is that it keeps unfolding in unexpected ways, that safety is never forever. We will feel fire in our bones from now till the time, as Rahner says, when the harvest of our earthly life is enfolded into the Incomprehensible Mystery of the One past-all- graspness. Until that day we are still in the world's grasp, striving to discern the Spirit's complicity in the losses we experience and to imagine a new vision from the confines of the stocks. How do we tend the fire when the embers are struggling for air? As people of faith we live in anamnesis: the retrieval of deep memory so powerful that reality being recalled from another time becomes present. The antonym of anamnesis is amnesia, the loss of a large block of inter-related memories. It is a catastrophic and sad reality to lose one's memory. People of the Book and those who treasure the long sweep of religious his-tory experience anam-nesis in their liturgical remembering and in the duty and daring of their vocation. The Christian faith itself is built upon anamnesis: "Let us proclaim the mystery of faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again." The lyrics of Marty Haugen's "We Remember" capture the why of our charge not to forget: "We remember how you loved us to your death, and still we celebrate that you are with us here" (GIA, 1980). This remem-bering roots us in a permanently meaningful past, holds us meaningfully in the present, and orients us toward the future whose meaning we are called to both wait Review for Religious for and bring about. Such Catholic remembering effects what it signifies by evoking and provoking what Johann Baptist Metz long ago called "dangerous memories." He said there are memories of earlier experiences that break through the center point of our lives and reveal new and dangerous insights for our present. They subvert our structures of plausibility. They are like dangerous and incalculable visitants from the past.5 Dangerous Memories Only those who have been transformed to some degree can be agents of larger transformations. Transformation usually relies on the ordinary forma-tive episodes of our lives. The Jungian scholar Murray Stein says, "The transforming person is someone who realizes the inherent self to the maximum extent pos-sible and in turn influences others to do the same.''6 Such an individual has the substance and style to inspire and elevate others to a greater moral largesse. Relatively few people desire to attain the social consciousness and do the soul-making inner work that would make them transforming and transformational persons. In describ-ing them Stein says, "Their lives show an extraordinary degree of uniqueness, imagination, and pristine indi-viduality." 7 Like the prophets of old, the 12th-century German Benedictine Abbess Hildegard of Bingen and the 19th-century Irish woman Catherine McAuley were two such transforming and transformational individuals with fire in their bones. Both women were-in their early forties when they took their first steps beyond what was toward what could be. Hildegard, a medieval theologian, visionary, and church reformer, and Catherine, the foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, were both fifty-two years old when 143 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley they faced and decisively overcame obstacles to bring their visions to fruition. Both developed extraordinary skill in conflicts with church authorities, and, interest-ingly, over three hundred letters of each remain. In short, Hildegard and Catherine are dangerous memories whose legacies of duty and daring remind us of our own often untapped potential. Episodes of duty and daring in the lives of these treasured visitants from the past suggest that they can work in weary souls like oxygen on embers. 1441 Portrait of Hildegard of Bingen On the nine hundredth anniversary of Hildegard's birth in 1998, the Hildegard scholar Barbara Newman wrote: Hildegard is the only woman of her age to be accepted as an authoritative voice on Christian doctrine; the first woman who received express permission from a pope to write theological books; the only medieval woman who preached openly before mixed audiences of clergy and laity with full approval of church authority; the author of the first known morality play, and the only 12th-century playwright who is not anonymous; the only composer of her era known both by name and by a large corpus of surviving music; the first scien-tific writer to discuss sexuality and gynecology from a female perspective; and the first saint whose official biography includes a first-person memoir,s Born in the summer of 1098 in Bermersheim, Germany, Hildegard was thrust upon the stage of life at the close of one century and the dawning of the next. The role of wise women, midwives, h~alers, and coun-selors fell under new suspicions. The practice of seeing the divine in all things was eroding. It was an epoch of spiritual fervor amid the growing corruption of a Review for Religious church bent on the Crusades, which led "poor and frail" women, like Hildegard, to rise up and challenge the clergy to reform. Hildegard wrote prolifically between the ages of forty-two and eighty-one. In addition to two major works on medicine and natural science, Hildegard completed a trilogy of theological works: the multimedia illuminated manuscript for which she is most famous, Scivias (abbreviated from the Latin for Know the Lord's Ways), The Book of Life's Merits, and The Book of Divine Works. She composed seventy-seven liturgical songs and wrote them down in the Symphonia: The Symphony of the ¯ Harmony of Celestial Revelations. Fifty of her homilies are extant. The historian Gerda Lerner says, "The life of Hildegard of Bingen exemplifies the breakthrough of a female genius who managed to create an entirely new role for herself and other women without ostensi-bly violating the patriarchal confines within which she functioned.''9 Hildegard thrived at a time of political and religious tumult not vastly different from our own. "Her sheer force of will," Newman says, "combined with a dazzling array of spiritual and intellectual gifts, a courage hardened by decades of struggle, and a pro-phetic persona, which she displayed in season and out, made her a formidable opponent; and she did not take defeat easily.''~° This could equally be said of Catherine McAuley. Portrait of Catherine McAuley The life and vision of Catherine McAuley, seven [ centuries after Hildegard, provide another deep story 14~ of a woman whose spiritual and intellectual gifts, cour-age hardened by struggle, and prophetic persona made her a formidable opponent; like Hildegard, Catherine 67.2 2008 Clendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine M~uley Hildegard thrivedat a time of political and religious tumult not vastly differen~ ~om our own. did not take defeat easily. From her childhood to her middle years, she knew what it was like to be forced to the edges of her culture and to experience the prejudice of being Irish and Catholic in an age of intolerance. ~t Catherine's efforts to accomplish something lasting have their roots in the faith and courage with which she faced hardship. She reflected often upon adversity as key to her theology of the cross, the central sym-bol of Christianit~,. Over her lifetime she experienced many losses: her father's death when she was five, their fami-ly's descent into poverty, and her mother's death in 1798, when Catherine was twenty. In 1827 she buried her sister Mary, mother of five children. She cared for her sister's children and outlived some of her beloved nieces and nephews. Inheriting in 1827 the for-tune of a couple she had lived with for twenty years-- and driven by her deep faith, her sense of Christian duty, and her compassion--she built in Dublin the first House of Mercy. Her selection of a site on Baggot Street, in one of the wealthiest and most exclusive sections of Dublin, flouted the as yet unrevoked late-17th-century penal code that prohibited erecting a Catholic building on a main thoroughfare of Irish cities and towns. This proved to be the first step toward the founda-tion, in 1831, of the Sisters of Mercy, many of whom would die from the cholera and typhus that plagued Ireland in those early years. Two letters to her younger, Review for Religious most trusted colleague Frances Xavier Warde provide a window into Catherine McAuley's spirituality of the cross¯ In 1840, after the death of two young novices while a new foundation was being proposed, Catherine wrote, "I suppose all will go on well to shew us that what we think a drawback will be followed by greater progress. If they should have a new foundation--it will not be without the cross.''12 In 1841, offering words of encouragement as Sister Frances faced a challenge to her religious leadership, Catherine reflected: I know it is an affliction to you--but rest assured, God will send some. distinguished consolation¯ This is your life, joys and sorrows mingled, one succeed-ing the other. Let us not think of the means [God] has employed to convey to us a portion of the Holy Cross, being ever mindful that it came from Himself¯ ¯. Far better and more profitable for you to receive with all your heart the cross which God will send you in any form or shape He pleases. I earnestly hope you will receive this trial so as to render it valuable to you.13 Catherine's Decision for George's Hill Catherine McAuley was in her forties when she experienced a defining moment in realizing her vision. The novelty of an intentional community of lay women without religious vows and enclosure brought such neg-ative attention that "the criticism threatened to discour-age young women from joining Catherine's endeavors and thus to undermine the very stability of the works of mercy to which she was committed, including visita-tion of the sick poor in their homes and hospitals.''~4 Catherine began "a long deliberation" on how to pro-ceed. On 8 September 1830 she, Anna Marie Doyle, and Elizabeth Harley entered the Presentation Sisters' con- 147 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley vent on George's Hill to serve the canonically required novitiate year before professing religious vows on 12 December 1831 as the first Sisters of Mercy.~5 These fifteen months away from Baggot Street were a pain-ful challenge for the fifty-two-year-old Miss McAuley. She spent the time surrounded by novices more than thirty years her junior. During the last seven months of her novitiate, a very strict mistress of novices made the duties of the time quite burdensome for Catherine. A letter from Mary Clare Moore to Mary Clare Augustine Moore describes the time: Catherine "often said it was so hard a struggle for her to remain [at George's Hill] on account of meeting there many things repugnant to her feelings that had she not the establishment of the Institute most deeply at heart she would (that very e~ce-ning) have sent for a coach to take her back to Baggot Street.''~6 This is a prime example of Catherine's sense of duty reshaping her earlier inclination to dare founding an unenclosed religious congregation. One can imagine how difficult the months of enclosure and silence must have been for a mature woman of such burning vision and apostolic zeal. Centuries earlier Hildegard had a different diffi-cult experience, but one that produced similar daring results. 148] Hildegard's Self-Awakening Following the custom of noble families, Hildegard's parents tithed their tenth child, Hildegard, as a tribute to the Lord when she was eight years old. She pro-fessed her religious vows as a Benedictine nun at the age of fifteen or sixteen. During these formative years, she watched as the original 7th-century Disibodenberg site was reconstructed into a small 12th-century Review for Religious German medieval city. It is interesting to speculate that Hildegard's own desire to found an independent monastery, which she eventually did, had its roots in a mind alert to all the construction going on around her. The physical buildings may have suggested to her young imagination the idea of being a spiritual architect. An unusual child, Hildegard confided in her mentor Jutta: "When I was three years old, I saw an immense light that shook my soul; but, because of my youth, I could not externalize it.m7 This light within her soul she would eventually name the umbra viventis lucis: a spiri-tual gleam or hint of the Living Light, appearing day or night, in full consciousness, and in multicolor brilliance accompanied by a "hearing in the soul." Hildegard, fear-ful of what others would think and what sanctions might be imposed upon her, remained silent with respect to the theological content of her visionary life. This silence and its consequent physical debilitation enfolded itself in Hildegard's daily existence. In 1136, when she was elected abbess, she received a new scope of authority. It was not uncommon for the abbess to be the magis-trate over dual monasteries of both monks and nuns. The authority of medieval abbesses included leaving the enclosure and entering into council with other abbesses. The abbess held spiritual power to bless, proclaim the gospel, instruct, lead Eucharistic processions, and hear the confessions of her nuns. Such powers exercised in Hildegard's time were forbidden a century later and have never again been held by women religious, even to the present day.18 At the age of forty-three, Hildegard finally broke silence on the content of her inner visions. She was "instructed" by the Living Light "to put her hand to writing" and "release the power and mystery of hidden 149 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and DaHng in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley A~ the age of forty-three, Hildegard finally b~oke silence on the content of her inner visions~ and marvelous visions." For the next thirty-eight years, she put her talents and spiritual gifts into both writing and public speaking. An official church commission went to Disibodenberg to examine her partially completed Scivias. The examiners took their findings to the Synod of Trier, where the well-respected Bernard of Clairvaux read portions of the Scivias aloud to the assembled bishops. Bernard urged the pope "not to allow such a brilliant light to be covered by silence, but rather to confirm this charism through his authority.''19 Pope Eugenius III gave Hildegard apostolic license to continue and told her to complete her "divinely inspired" work. (When completed, the Scivias was an illuminated manuscript of twenty-six visions with theological commentary address-ing an array of Christian doctrine.) Such ecclesiastical encouragement freed Hildegard to go forward into an unprecedented future. lyO Duty and Daring Both Hildegard of Bingen and Catherine McAuley successfully negotiated life at the crossroads. Living life on life's terms presents people with challenges to choose well and manage change. Hildegard and Catherine are models of midlife women who took themselves seri-ously as gifted gospel women and resisted the temp-tation toward being insubstantial, toward settling for less instead of more. Hildegard mustered the courage Review for Religious to break from her self-imposed and culturally enforced silence. On the other hand, Catherine chose to embrace the silence of enclosure at George's Hill and the confin-ing duties of the canonically required novitiate so that her vision might find acceptance. Each in her forties possessed an inheritance. Hildegard's was an internal, visionary, prophetic giftedness, and Catherine's was the material gift of £25,000 (a million dollars in today's currency) coupled with her social vision to make a dif-ference for the poor. Their midlife transition brought them to greater vistas of generativity. The poet Rainer Maria Rilke captures this moment when he writes: I love the dark hours of my being in which my senses drop into the deep. I have found in them, as in old letters, my private life, that is already lived through, and become wide and powerful now, like legends. Then I know that there is room in me for a second huge and timeless life.2° Both Hildegard and Catherine consistendy, albeit pain-fully, found within themselves a duty and daring in the daily struggle for what mattered most. Their stories help us do the same. They are dangerous memories. Hildegard's Decision to Leave Disibodenberg Hildegard experienced a vision calling her to leave Disibodenberg and establish her own independent mon-astery. The abbot dismissed the possibility of such an undertaking. Hildegard, in a pattern that marked her life, was stricken with a severe malady. She was filled with energy when she was advancing her outer and inner work and experienced terribly depleting episodes when she was impeded in what she believed to be God's will. Eventually the abbot came to see that the paralysis that 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley turned Hildegard's body stonelike was the result of his interference with God's will. He reluctantly conceded, granting his permission for her to proceed. After her move to Rupertsberg in 1150--an excep-tional action for one who described herself as "timid and lacking boldness"--Hildegard made arrangements to acquire complete canonical and legal separation from the monks at Disibodenberg. She wanted to choose the monks who would provide spiritual care for the nuns at Rupertsberg, to keep the dowries from the families of women who joined the order, to call the free election of superiors, to hold the deed to the property, and to be accountable solely to the archbishop of Mainz. She insisted that this (secret) arrangement be put in writ-ing, and she received it from the archbishop and from Frederick Barbarossa, king and emperor of Germany. Hildegard's memory of Disibodenberg's physical recon-struction now took wings. She supervised the erection of a 12th-century monastery with indoor plumbing, a complete sewage system, and a hospice for the sick and dying. The community grew from twenty to fifty nuns. While busy with preaching tours (begun at sixty), managing affairs at Rupertsberg, giving pastoral care to her nuns and others who requested it, writing The Book of Divine Works, and maintaining an active correspon-dence amid secular and religious tumult, Hildegard, fif-teen years after founding Rupertsberg, decided to found another congregation at Eibingen. With thirty nuns she set out down the east bank of the Rhine and established it on a site overlooking Rudesheim and across the river from Bingen. Hildegard kept living at Rupertsberg but traveled twice weekly to Eibingen until her death on 17 September 1179 at the age of eighty-one. Review for Religious Catherine McAuley and the Chaplaincy Crisis The McAuley scholar Sister Mary Sullivan writes, "In the six years since its founding in Dublin on 12 December 1831, the Institute of the Sisters of Mercy had merited episcopal approval and support . But the last months of 1837 were a very painful period in Catherine's life for one specific reason: in September a deep conflict arose between her and Dr. Walter Meyler, parish priest of St. Andrew's Church, over his unwilling-ness to assign a regular chaplain to serve the sacramen-tal needs of the homeless women and girls sheltered in the House of Mercy on Baggot Street"21--a situa-tion similar to Hildegard's centuries before. Catherine thought the continuity of pastoral care very important for both the Sisters of Mercy and the residents of the House of Mercy. "By depriving the House of Mercy a chaplain," says Sullivan, "Walter Meyler had, in effect, removed the possibility of daily, and even Sunday, Mass at Baggot Street. This meant that the forty or more servant women and girls living there had to go out to a parish church on Sundays, with the consequent free-dom to dally in the city and delay their return to the House--the very shelter created to protect them from the sexual and other dangers lying in wait for them on the streets.''22 Catherine wrote to Sister Mary de Pazzi Delaney, "My dearest Sister Mary, will you relieve me from the distressing business about the chaplain? It is constantly before me, and makes me dread going home. I know it is not possible for me to have any more argument with Dr. Meyler without extreme agitation . Do get me through this--don't be afraid.''23 Catherine's cor-respondence with Dr. Andrew Fitzgerald OP notes his seven-word summation of the controversy: "a wanton 67.2 2008 Clendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine Mc~luley unwarranted abuse of church authority.''24 Catherine wrote to Michael Blake, bishop of Dromore, who sup-ported her rationale for "one individual clergyman" as chaplain to the house and encouraged her to submit her case again. In doing so (to the Rev. John Hamilton), Catherine quoted from a letter she had sent to Dr. Meyler: We were happily at home today in time for all our dif-ferent duties., but our poor young women are still about the streets, taking advantage, to be sure, of the irregularity which has been introduced among them. I will make one more effort., to prevail on the Sisters to accompany me to their Bishop . We will shew what is lost by the change that has been made . This sad alteration in our once orderly establishment cannot fail to excite pity in a mind like his. At eight o'clock on Sunday evening, a letter was handed me from Doctor Meyler. It began thus: "When is your procession to take place? I should like to see the theatrical exhibition--the Bishop must be apprised--perhaps you may not admire the reception you will meet, for he is too straight forward a person to be caught by your Juggle." I read no more and put it out of my power ever to do so by burning the letter. I must now be done with the matter entirely. I will attempt nothing more.25 In a private letter to Frances Xavier Warde in January 1838 about the situation, Catherine said, "It is humiliating no doubt, a smart attack on self-importance, and if this part of it is well managed, it must turn to good account.''26 A few months later Catherine reported to Frances, "Our Mass is celebrated very regularly every day, and the confessions pretty well attended to--but I never feel reconciled to it . Pray fervendy to God to take all bitterness from me. I can scarcely think of what has been done to me without resentment.''27 Review for Religious Crises and Character The substance and style of Hildegard's leadership in moving her community from Disibodenberg and establishing the foundation at Rupertsberg, and the per-sonal cost and art-istry of Catherine's moving through the chaplaincy cri-sis, suggest some-thing important that has a bearing on leadership that would be trans-formational. They had the capacity for liminality and pos-sessed a prophetic passion. The term liminality is taken from the Latin limen, meaning threshold. Angela Bolster RSM defines limin-ality as "all about risk., a countercultural movement on the frontier, opening up new horizons, indicat-ing new possibilities . . . fueled by a new vision of the future.''28 Those on the limen, at the edge of new fron-tiers, can live in ambiguity and perceive opportunity. Like Jeremiah, they learn to bear disquietude and use agitation and anguish as kindling for the flame of zeal. Hildegard broke silence when she could no longer hold in the content of her visions. Catherine's daring social vision took her more than once to the edge of con-frontation with church authority. Their sense of duty provoked in them an adaptability that deepened them as churchwomen and staved off the bitterness, alienation, and cynicism people feel under the weight of perceived Catherine's daring social vision took her more than once to the edge of confrontation with church authority. 67.2 2008 lendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley injustice. It is especially poignant when the injustice is meted out at the hands of the church. It is easy to imag-ine each of these liminal women pr~ying with Jeremiah 20:7-9: You have seduced me, Yahweh, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughingstock, everybody's butt. . . . The word of Yahweh has meant for me insult, derision, all day !ong. I used to say, "I will not think about him, I will not speak in his name any more." Then there seemed to be a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones. The effort to restrain it wearied me, I could not do it. Both women's large-mindedness enabled them to sus-tain the distress of the life that wanted to live in and through them and, at the same time, animate others to help them realize the possibilities they perceived were of God and worth the cost. The liminal among us often dwell at the edges of society where the anawim of God live. Transforming and transformational leaders find a home among the homeless, in fact and in faith. They bear God's pro-phetic pathos as their own. They bear the cross where they find it, whether in the medieval crusades, the Irish penal laws, or the current building of walls at U.S. bor-ders. The prophetic personality struggles and stumbles but never succumbs to despair because the umbra viven-tis lucis--the gleam of the Living Light--stirs the soul of those who artfully integrate duty with daring and daring with duty. Such transformational persons are of biblical proportions, vessels of Holy Wisdom in every generation (Ws 7:21-28). The 12th-century German Benedictine Abbess Hildegard of Bingen and the 19th-century Irish Mother Catherine McAuley are two such liminal, passionate, and prophetic women. They wit- Review for Religious ness to other courageous lives lived within the difficult confines of changing eras and changing destinies. Their dangerous memories get into the marrow of our bones. Theirs is an irreducible legacy given to us. Their names are anamnetic and, when they come among us today, they are an oasis in the midst of wilderness wandering, bearing witness to the possible future always before us, especially in times like ours. Notes ' Attributed to an insight from Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM, senior vice president, Mission and Values Integration, Catholic Healthcare Partners, Cincinnati, Ohio. 2 Walter Brueggemann, Inscribing the Text: Sermons and Prayers, ed. Anna Carter Florence (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004), p. 156. 3 Brueggemann, Inscribing, p. 157. 4 Brueggemann, Inscribing, p. 159. s Johann Baptist Metz, "The Future in the Memory of Suffering," Concilium 76 (1972), p. 15. 6 Murray Stein, Transformation (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1998), p. xxiv. 7 Stein, Transformation, pp. 146-148. 8 Barbara Newman, ed., Voice of the Living Light: Hildegard of Bingen and her World (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), p. 1. 9 Gerda Lerner, The Creation of Feminist Consciousness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 52. ,0 Hildegard of Bingen, Scivias, trans. Mother Columba Hart and Jane Bishop (New York: Paulist Press, 1990), p. 15. n See Angela Bolster RSM, Venerable Catherine McAuley: Liminalfor Mercy (Cork, Ireland: Sisters of Mercy, 1998). ,2 The Correspondence of Catherine McAuley, 1818-1841, ed. Mary C. Sullivan (Baltimore: Catholi~ University of America Press, 2004), p. 316. 13 McAuley, Correspondence, pp. 400-401. ,4McAuley, Correspondence, p. 33. ,s McAuley, Correspondence, p. 34. ,6 Mary C. Sullivan, Catherine McAuley ~nd the Tradition of Mercy [IY7 6Z2 2008 lendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine Mc~uley (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1995), p. 93. 17 Carolyn Sur, The Feminist Images of God in the Visions of Saint Hildegard ofBingen's "Scivias" (New York: Mellen Press, 1993), p. 26. ~s Margaret Wade Labarge, A Small Sound of the Trumpet: Women in Medieval Life (London: Hamish Hamilton Paperback, 1986), pp. 33, I01. ~9 Renate Craine, Hildegard: Prophet of the Cosmic Christ (New York: Crossroad, 1997), p. 26. 20 Rainer Maria Rilke, I Am Tob Alone in the World: Ten Poems, trans. Robert Bly (New York: Silver Hands Press, 1981), p. 4. 21 McAuley, Correspondence, p. 94. 22 McAuley, Correspondence, 2~ McAuley, Correspondence, 24 McAuley, Correspondence, 2s McAuley, Correspondence, 26 McAuley, Correspondence, 27 McAuley, Correspondence, see footnote 83, p. 112. pp. 96-97. p. 103. pp. 112-113. p. 119. p. 144. Time Dive Plunge into the.flow of time Ride the current moment Swirl awhile 'round bubbling eddies Bob lithely on sun glistened ripples Cascade over rapid rocky rills Float out into embracing arms of open sea Then soar aloft to clouds above And gently freefall Rain Drop in the river of time. Walter Bunofsky SVD Review for Religious JEANNE MCNULTY Weavers of God: The Warp and the Weft A nY artisan of handwoven fabric knows this: If the vertical threads (the warp) are weak and under uneven tension on the loom, no matter how the horizontal threads (the weft) are woven, the resulting cloth will be a puckered, slapdash mess. "Called to weave a new spirituality that generates hope and life for all humanity" was the theme of the plenary session of superiors general of women religious held in Rome in May 2007. The question was asked: "What thread are we religious, responsible for our con-gregations, called to weave in this moment in order to become prophetic and mystic 'weavers of God'?" Weaving has been a feminine image for centuries, and cave paintings document the existence of tapestry weaving as long ago as 3000 B.C. Handloom weaving flourished in the 1700s. Nowadays a few of us, mosdy women, but some men too, still send shuttles flying Jean McNulty SFO, OCV, a secular Franciscan and a consecrated virgin (see canon 604), wrote for us in 1997; she lives a semi-eremidc life. claire@wvadventures.net 67.2 2008 McNulty ¯ Weavers of God across warps and are delighted to see new designs pop up on the fabric or web before our eyes. Those who have persevered in the art can draw many analogies between our craft and the loom of our spiritual life. Everyone's vocation or lifestyle needs some structure. Without a plan, purpose, or focus, days and years may be frittered away. On a loom the "castle" is the outer encasement. Within the castle there are "harnesses," usually between two to eight of them. These are frame-like rectangles that hold the "heddles." The heddles are slender metal rods each containing a needle eye in the center. These are threaded in various sequences according to a pur-posed design. Below the heddles and harnesses, close to the floor, are the "treadles," which are attached to the harnesses in a specific arrangement. When the treadles are pedaled or tromped, the harnesses are raised and the "shuttle" (a little boat-like device that holds the bob-bin with the weft thread) flies over and under the warp threads. The interlacing threads form the pattern that begins appearing on the newly created fabric. Almost an infinity of designs can'be produced, and a great mul-tiplicity of shades and hues are made manifest as the various colored threads cross over and under each other on the web. Many designs were developed by those who have gone on before us. Others are waiting to be dis-covered. The threads on the loom can be compared to all the people that cross our paths in life and help us to become the persons we are. This interlacing of our lives with theirs helps develop the finished pattern on the web of life. On the loom there is a front and back beam. In the weaving that I do, the vertical threads are initially tied Review for Religious to the back beam, the farthest away from the weaver, and then threaded through the heddles toward the front of the loom and then through the "beater." This is a long rectangular device containing a reed with short thin metal rods. It can be expanded at least to the width of the warp. The reed keeps the threads from getting tan-gled .and also helps create the density of the fabric. The beater "beats" the weft threads into an even line across the warp, which is tied on to the front of the loom. The aim is to get all the warp threads through the castle and then though the reeds in the right sequence and then tied with even tension to the front cloth beam. This takes time and patience, and it does no good to try and expedite the process. An experi-enced weaver knows not to hurry because, if a thread is put through the heddles or beater in the wrong sequence, the whole pattern or design is flawed. It often means going back to square one with the threading. So it is better to do it right the first time and save hours of unnecessary labor. An analogy to the spiritual life is easy to see. Just as buildings need a firm foun-dation, so a weaver of a tapestry (or of the fabric of her life) should humbly spend the time and energy to thread her loom with order and precision. She should begin by looking to the future with humble and atten-tive prayer. Occasionally, despite very careful planning and execution, a warp thread will break in the middle of a weaving project. It will take a special knot with a piece of new thread in even tension with the others to fix it. experienced weaver knows not to hurry. 161 67.2 2008 McNulty ¯ Weavers of God This requires added time and effort, as it does in the spiritual realm when our sins and flaws require repen-tance, confession, forgiveness, fixing--the knot and thread renewing togetherness and integrity. In the repertoire of weaving designs, there are warp-faced patterns and weft-faced ones. This means that, in any piece of cloth, what meets the eye is either the pattern of the weft threads or the pattern of the warp. In traditional Navajo weaving, for example, the weft completely covers and hides the warp. It is considered a real flaw for a warp thread to be seen, and so the weft is always beaten tighdy into place. The contemplative life can easily be compared to the warp in Navaio weaving. It is so totally obscure. It is, however, the framework for the entire fabric. The warp threads have to be very strong to take the intense beat-ing and packing of the weft threads that will show on the sur- The contemplative life face. Strenuous active lives and ministries can easily be compared to can beat people down the warp in Navajo weaving, in their endeavors to make the world bet-ter. These endeavors, these activities, are what people see and value, but, if they are not sup-ported by the strong threads of contemplative union with God, they will not produce the desired beautiful patterns. Pope Benedict encouraged religious to "weave 62 the living fabric of a useful service to the church., yet always maintaining solid interior relations with Christ. In fact, only from this union with God can that 'pro-phetic' role of your mission flow and be nourished." Review for Religious He added: "Never yield, therefore, to the temptation to distance yourself from intimacy with your Heavenly Spouse by allowing yourselves to be overly attracted by the interests and problems of daily life." Our Holy Father encouraged religious to cultivate the mystical dimension of consecrated life, keeping united to God through contemplation. He said: "The authentic prophet, therefore, is not concerned so much to accomplish works, which undoubtedly are important but never essential. Above all, he tries to be a witness of God's love, seeking to live it among the realities of the world, even if his presence can sometimes be 'uncom-fortable' because he offers and incarnates alternative values." !n creating a piece of material on the loom, once the warp threads are threaded through the heddles and tied on to the back warp beam and the front cloth beam, and once the weaving has commenced, the warp threads can-not be changed without dismantling. It is different with the weft threads. In the active life we can change our occupations, put different yarns and a different picture on the loom of our existence, but always underneath there has to be the contemplative warp to hold things together. What is essential is our vertical and horizontal union with Jesus. If the love relationship is there and he decides to change the design, it can hurt, but it is not devastating because the contemplative warp is strong. There are times in life when the weft patterns seem to coalesce. Everything works out well, and we have a lot of good "yardage" to show, but then can come years when no matter what we do all seems insignificant. The Lord appears to be asleep in the boat, our litde shuttle, and we feel tossed about in darkness. In the obscurity of the night, we become mystic weavers who feel at odds 67.2 2008 McNulty .,Weavers of God with the surface of our life. We cannot see what is going on, but we hope and trust that something special and beautiful is happening in the context of our life. When I have thrown the shuttle for the last time on a long-woven piece of cloth, the moment has arrived to see the web completely finished. I take the scissors and cut each warp thread. I draw the material forward and fan-fold it on the bench in front of me. A passage from the Book of Isaiah comes to mind: "You have folded up my life, like a weaver who severs the last thread" (Is 38:12). We know this moment will arrive, the one when the Master Weaver severs our web from the loom of our earthly life and surveys the finished product. Then we hope that he will delight in the display of designs and intertwining coloi's. In this moment all of us are unique and original. No other person will have the same patterns, the same gifts to display in the king-dom of our God and before our sisters and brothers. Hopefully, our lives will have been prophetic examples of the gospel message, and we too will hear the words the Father spoke over Jesus at the river Jordan: "You are my beloved child. On you my favor rests" (Mk 1:11). Review for Religious DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment Getting to know people is a process. It can be long and complicated, involving several phases that result in increasing knowledge of them. Yet the process can hardly begin effec-tively unless we are prepared to discover who the individual persons are and do not approach them merely in terms of what we think or what others say about them. To be sure, what we think or what others say is important and should not be ignored, but this is not enough if our concern is to know them personally and intimately. For this we need a firsthand experi-ence that gives them the opportunity to reveal themselves to us. Consider what happens when we meet peo-ple. It takes only a while before they begin to Damian C. Ilodigwe wrote on the Magnificat in our 66.3 (2007) issue. He is a priest and lecturer in philoso-phy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171; Secretariat P.O.; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks2000@ yahoo.tom being disciples 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment 166 reveal themselves to us in various ways. If we really want to get to know them, such rrioments are precious. We pause and listen to what they have to say. By so doing we might begin to penetrate the mystery that underlies their personality. Such attention involves a certain pas-sivity in the face of their self-disclosure. Indeed, this moment of self-disclosure must guide our subsequent effort to learn who they really are. The process would be skewed if we imposed some prejudice of ours on them before they had the benefit of self-disclosure. Difficult and complex though it is to get to know other people, the reward can be great even after only a little success, and the success is bound to grow the more we try. We become more comfortable in their presence, and with this at-homeness we are able to trust them and perhaps even depend on them. We grow in our appreciation of their worth, and this leads to a much better relationship. Before we realize it, the friendship becomes intimate and personal. We need such a friend-ship with Jesus. Peter's Significant Breakthrough Like all who are called to be Jesus' disciples, the apostles had to get to know Jesus. They were specially chosen by him and destined to play an important role in his mission, but that does not mean it was easy for them to get to know him. Having been with him for some time and having seen the deep impression he made on people, they held him in high esteem. They knew how much people appreciated his words and presence. They were familiar with what people thought about him (see Mk 8:27-29). Yet this did not mean they really knew him. Their knowledge of him, like that of people he healed, was at best superficial. They knew he was the Reviem for Religious son of Joseph and Mary, but it is not evident that they penetrated the mystery of his divine personality (see Jn 5:1-18). If they were to be his ambassadors, it was crucial that their knowledge of him was not superficial, limited to a few details of his parents, his hometown, and so forth. It was impor tant that they knew and understood him for who he really is. Their coming to know him was a long process indeed, which was not over until, after his resur-rection, they received the Holy Spirit (see Lk 24:13-35). Nonetheless, the event at Caesarea Philippi offered a preliminary advancement of their knowledge of Jesus. Jesus brought up for discussion the topic of his identity (Mk 8:27-38, Mt 16:13-20). It was almost like any con-versation in which we seek feedback from others about a particular issue. He began by asking them who people said he was. That was not a difficult question, for the disciples only needed to be steeped in current affairs to answer it, and they were not wanting in this regard. They mentioned the various perspectives that people had: "John the Baptist; and others say, Elijah; and others, one of the prophets." The answer touched the reality of Jesus' per-sonality, but still was superficial. Jesus did not evaluate their answer; he simply asked another question, a more personal one: "But you, who do you say I am?" This sort of question upsets people. It certainly upset them. It took them from the nonpersonal to the personal. It Jesus brought up for discussion the topic of his identity. 167 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment had implications regarding their allegiance and commit-ment. The burden of responsibility became enormous. In such circumstances we usually censor what we say. We say only what we mean to say and what we have evidence for. We can imagine the disciples considering their words carefully. Indeed, it would not be surprising to discover that there was a long silence before an answer came. As usual, it was Peter who took the lead, saying: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." We can almost imagine that Jesus was surprised, a pleasant surprise, for Jesus' true identity was and is always a kind of secret. People focused (and still do) on accidents of Jesus' birth and circumstances, as happened when he preached in Capernaum (Lk 4:16-28). Focusing on these things, they missed (and still do) the essen-tial Jesus. Peter, however, was absolutely correct. But how did this happen? What emerges is that Peter had been assisted. It was not as a result of any merely human agency that he was able to enter the mystery of Jesus' personality. As Jesus put it, "it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven." We can recall here Jesus' words that no one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and those to whom he reveals him (Lk 10:22). So it was not through Peter's human effort that he discovered this truth. It was through the Holy Spirit, of whom Paul was to affirm that "no one can say Jesus is Lord except in the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 12:3). It was the Holy Spirit that spoke in him. This was revelation, not merely natural knowledge. Not only was Jesus satisfied with Peter's answer, call-ing him a happy man, but he moved quickly to reward him: "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold Review for Religious out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven." The enormousness of this reward is breathtaking, but the content is also rel-evant to the future of Jesus' mission (see Jn 21:15-19). That declaration of Jesus' identity revealed imme-diately Peter's deep configuration to Jesus to the extent that he had the seal of the Holy Spirit upon him. Peter's reward can be understood only in the context of this deep configuration. And the logic of this is relevant to us as well, in our relationship with God and with one another. In penetrating the truth of the divine personality of Jesus, Peter moved from a somewhat superficial relation-ship to an intimate personal one. If we understand Jesus in the depth of his divine and human reality, this knowl-edge is utterly transforming, and with transformation comes the burden of commitment and responsibility. To know people at an intimate level is to become committed to them. When we recognize that our rela-tionship has reached this deeper level, we are more pre-pared to take them into our confidence and relate with them still more intimately.| I suppose we are familiar with this situation. When we consider it briefly, we real-ize that it fits well the new phase in the relationship between Jesus and his disciples. With Peter's confession, the disciples were no lon-ger outsiders. They were brought inside and enabled by God's grace to perceive what others longed to per-ceive but could not perceive. The veil was lifted, and they were privileged to perceive the Lord of all creation in his true identity. Now their knowledge of him went far deeper than what people were saying. It involved 67.2 2008 Ilodig'we ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment something intensely personal, something that commit-ted them to him irrevocably. It did not, however, mean they had mastered everything about this mystery.2 In their very grasp of the mystery, something remained mysterious. They were ever in need of divine assistance to relate with him at this profound level. Toknow Jesus in his divine reality is a transforming experience, and it is our portion as Christians to attain such knowledge: 170 Peter's Confession and Our Contemporary Situation Like Peter and the other apostles, we too need to get to know Jesus better. Indeed, we can regard our journey of faith as getting to know Jesus and experienc-ing the power of his presence in our life (see Ph 1:12- 30). Also, like Peter, we need divine assistance to enter the profound reality of Jesus' divine personal-ity-- beyond a minimal grasp of what the church teaches in the creed. We need that, of course, and we need to integrate it into our faith journey. To know Jesus in his divine reality is a transforming experience, and it is our portion as Christians to attain such knowledge. The deeper our knowledge, the more we see that Jesus is our companion on our journey through life (Col 3:1-17). We see that he cares and that his presence makes all the difference in our life. We see the goodness of committing ourselves to Jesus. Living in accordance with our deeper knowledge of Jesus and our commitment brings us more and more into the divine realm. To confess Jesus as a good man Review for Religious or even a great prophet is not enough. It is to miss the whole point of his mission and our relationship with him. In the face of the artificiality and superficiality of our world, there is a need for us to encounter the full reality of Jesus, not mere extrinsic details. We must not live as if our faith were separate from our lives. Peter's confession of Jesus as the Son of the living God should make us step back and examine our own relationship with Jesus. How deep does my relationship with Jesus go? Is my relationship with him personal, or is it superficial, based on mere secondhand knowledge? God created us to know him, love him, and serve him.3 Knowledge is the gateway of love. The more we get to know Jesus and his love for us, the more we are able to love him in return and commit ourselves to him. All this may seem a tall order. It is a challenge. But it is not impossible to attain, with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, our advocate and teacher. The Holy Spirit, the spirit of truth, knows the depth of every reality, including God (see Jn 16:5-15). If we listen, the Holy Spirit will lead us deeper into the truth of Jesus. He will help us integrate this truth into our faith journey. We turn, then, to the Spirit and ask that our eyes be opened that we may see, our minds opened that we may understand, and our hearts so inflamed with divine love that our lives may be more and more conformed to the life of Christ. Notes 1 See Joseph Ratzinger, Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus .of Nazareth (London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2007), pp. 335-341. 2 See Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership (Bandra, Mumbai: Society of St. Paul, 1999), pp. 29-32. 3 See the Catechism of the Catholic Church (Dublin: Veritas, 1994), §§356-361. 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe * Disdplesbip, Faith, and Commitment Personal and Group Reflection 1. How would I describe the process of getting to know another person? Do I find that this process is the one I use in getting to know Jesus? 2. In this article, I look at Peter in his coming to a deeper relationship with Jesus. Who else have been models for me in my own being able to grow as a friend of Jesus? 3. Have biblical studies been helpful or not in my coming to know Jesus? What part does prayer play in my growth? 172) Mary, at the Hour of Her Death "And not an easy dying," said her sister Mary the wife of Clopas, smoothing back Her own gray hair from a forehead marked With midnight watching; "but for all her Pain and the Weight of memories she and I Have shared, she went from us smiling." The ritual prayers she knew are said again; Lovingly, th.ey cover her. And while the women Of the cross go to buy the spices and prepare As once before burial, the Overshadowing Presence that she knew visits where she lies; When they return: Mary is not there. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious PETER SCHINELLER Seeing with the Eyes of Christ A bold statement! How can we claim to see with the eyes of Christ? We are weak, sinners. We live in a different time and place, two thousand years after Jesus Christ. Yet this is what Pope Benedict says in his encyclical "God Is Love." About loving our neigh-bor, he writes: "Seeing with the eyes of Christ, I can give to others much more than their outward necessi-ties; I can give them the look of love which they crave" (§18). Following the Holy Father's lead, we might try to understand and retrieve this part of our Christian tradition. Where is Jesus? We often speak of the presence of Jesus Christ in our midst, especially in other persons. A key text that points to that presence is Matthew 25: "I was hungry and you fed me, naked and you clothed me." When we reach out to others in compassion and love, it is Christ we are touching. Mother Teresa saw this clearly: "Every person is Christ for me, and since173 Peter Schineller SJ writes from America House; 106 West 56 Street; New York, N.Y. 10019. 67.2 200g Schineller * Seeing with.the Eyes of Christ Saints live and model the Christ-life in their own day and agei there is only one Jesus, that person is the only one per-son in the world for me at that moment." We often hear that the goal of the spiritual life is union with Jesus Christ. He is the way, the truth, and the life. We join our lives to Jesus through word and sacrament, through prayer and action. We move to the Father Jind to his kingdom as followers of Jesus Christ. But is there another even more intimate way to speak of our relationship and union with Jesus? Is there a way that lessens the separation or dis-tance between us and Jesus, so that we begin to feel and say with St. Paul, "I live, now not I; but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20)? Can we not dare to say, as Pope Benedict does, that we are "see-ing with the eyes ofChrist"? Can we be bold and daring enough to say that we are to put on the heart and mind of Christ? That we reach out with the hands of Christ? Are these words true, or are they mythical, oversimplified piety? There is a story about a statue of Christ in a church. It was wartime, and the church was bombed. The statue stood, but the arms of Christ, reaching out, were broken off. Rather than remove or replace the damaged statue, someone put a note on it: "He has no hands but ours." Is this just a pious tale, or does it express a deep insight into the Christian life? Christian Tradition Speaks This Way St. Paul certainly saw his own life and the Christian life as intimately joined with Jesus Christ. We live Review for Religious and die with Christ, in him, through him. The Pauline writings use these and similar prepositions about 165 times to describe our relationship with Jesus Christ. Paul explains that we are slowly, gradually being trans-formed into the likeness of Christ (1 Co 3:18). Writing to the Christians at Philippi, he urges them to put on the attitude or mind of Christ: "Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5). All of our thoughts are to be "captive in obedience to Christ" (2 Co 10:5). With even greater boldness he says, "We have the mind of Christ" (1 Co 2:16). The Christian, through the power and reality of grace, grad-ually assumes the shape, the form of Jesus Christ. Saints live and model the Christ-life in their own day and age. We find a strong expression of how we put on Christ in a few words of St. John Eudes. He writes of the Christian's relationship to Jesus: He belongs to you as the head belongs to its mem-bers; all that is his is yours: his spirit, his heart, his body and soul, and all his faculties. You must make use of all these as your own, to serve, praise, love, and glorify God. You belong to him, as members belong to their head. And so he longs for you to use all that is in you, as if it were his own, for the service and glory of the Father. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, § 1698) How This Might Apply to Us The phrase "imitation of Christ" is a hallowed one in the history of Christian spirituality. It often refers to the classic book of Thomas h Kempis. What might it mean in light of what we have outlined above? Can we see our lives not simply as an imitation of Jesus Christ who is out there, over against us, but as one with us, cooperating with us, working in us in every good deed 67.2 2008 Scbineller ¯ Seeing with the Eyes of Christ that we perform? Can we see, think, act, with the eyes, mind, hands of Christ? Can this become a way of envi-sioning our lives? Here are a few examples. The eyes of Christ and our eyes. Jesus observed and learned lessons from the birds of the air, the lilies of the field. Jesus observed, and pointed out to the disciples, the great generosity of the widow who with her two coins put in more than all the rich men. Jesus saw with eyes of compassion the needs of the sick and the blind. Are we open to seeing the needs of others, and to seeing as Jesus saw? Or do we have a beam in our own eye and so fail to see the good in others, fail to see the needs of others, with the eyes of Christ? The mind of Christ and our mind. Jesus was one with his Father. His Father's thoughts of truth and peace-- were in the mind of Christ. Jesus emptied himself and thought of the good of others. Do we let Jesus enter into our minds and reshape our attitudes, our way of thinking? Do the needs of others have more weight than our own needs and desires? Does the truth prevail in our words and our conduct, or do we compromise and bargain with the truth? The heart of Christ and our heart. Christ says, "Come to me, all who labor and are burdened. I will give you rest." His heart went out in compassion for the crowd, hungry for food and for the word of life. His heart went out to the lepers. His heart was pierced on the cross, so much did he love us. He wants to transform our hearts into his own. From hearts that can be cold and insensitive, isolated and stubborn, he wants our hearts to become warm like his own, overflowing with love for his Father and for all God's children. The hands of Christ and our hands. As a youth Jesus assisted in the carpenter shop in Nazareth. In his min- Review for Religious istry Jesus reached out with a healing hand, a hand of friendship and blessing. Children came to receive his welcome and blessing. His hands shared food with his disciples and with the crowds. With his hands he washed the feet of Peter and the other apostles. Do we extend a clenched fist or the open hand of friendship? Do we let Christ work through our hands as we go about our daily tasks in the home, the workplace, the market? Do we see ourselves as instruments of his work, his care and concern? The feet of Christ and our feet. Jesus went about doing good. He continued steadfastly on the journey to Jerusalem, knowing that it would lead to suffering and death. He carried the cross to the hill of Calvary. In our walking and travels, are we instruments for the spread of the gospel and for works of charity? The ears of Christ and our ears. We sing with the Psalmist that "the Lord hears the cry of the poor." Jesus heard the blind cry out for help, the cry of the Syro- Phoenician woman for assistance for her child. Do we fill our ears with unnecessary noise and entertainment so that we have little time to hear the call of the child, the friend, anyone in need? The words of Christ and our words. Jesus spoke words of love and words of power. He spoke with authority. His words often evoked faithful, beautiful responses such as Peter's words "Depart from me, Lord, I am a sinful man." Jesus' words gathered apostles and follow-ers, and captivated the crowds. Do our words echo the words of Christ, so that Christ can.be said to be speak-ing in and through us? Do others hear the words of the gospel, good news, in our conversation? The prayer of Jesus and our prayer. Jesus prayed before major decisions such as calling the apostles. He prayed I177 67.2 2008 Sebineller * Seeing witb the Eyes of Cbrist _178] for Peter that his faith might not falter. Jesus called God "Father" and invites us to do the same. As we pray the Lord's Prayer, do we realize that it is Jesus praying in and with and through us? He prayed for forgiveness even for those who crucified him. Do we let the Spirit of Jesus, dwelling in our hearts, cry out, "Abba, Father"? Do we let Jesus pray in and through us for the needs of our world and our family and friends? The will of Christ and our will. Jesus came to do the Father's will. "Not my will, but yours be done." He became obedient even unto death, death on a cross. Do we let God direct our will, or do we resist handing over our will to the divine will? Are our choices in line with the way and the words of Jesus, letting his Spirit be the power, impetus, and guide for our choices? Prayers That Reflect This Vision Four prayers of the Christian tradition reinforce the thrust of this reflection. The first is the familiar prayer of St. Patrick on the presence of Christ, how it sur-rounds and fills us. Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise, Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me. A second prayer is from the Book of Hours, of 1514: God be in my head, and my understanding; God be in my eyes, and in my looking; God be in my mouth, and in my speaking; Review for Religious God be in my heart, and in my thinking; God be at my end, and at my departing. The third prayer comes from St. Ignatius Loyola. At the end of the Spiritual Exercises, we hand over ourselves completely to the Lord, to his transforming power, for him to do with us as he wills and as he thinks best: Take, Lord, receive, all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my will. All that I have and pos-sess. You have given all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. All is yours. Do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me. The fourth prayer, more contemporary, the Grail Prayer, is an excellent prayer for Christians as they go about their daily responsibilities: Lord Jesus, I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my spirit that you may pray in me. Above all, I give you my heart that you may love in me your Father and all humankind. I give you my whole self that you may grow in me, so that it is you, Lord Jesus, who live and work and pray in me. hands to do your work. feet to go your way. eyes to see as you do. tongue to speak your words. mind that you may think in me. One way to begin to live this seeing, thinking, and walking with the eyes, mind, and feet of Jesus is by making it part of our daily examen. Rather than exclusively focus on our sins and failings, or our dominant feelings or emotions, we might focus on how we have or have not spoken, lis-tened, and acted like Jesus. With this Christocentric per-spective, we reflect on how Jesus Christ, and the Spirit of Jesus Christ, lives in and through us. 67.2 2008 Scbineller ¯ Seeing witb tbe Eyes of Christ Jesus Christ was born 2000 years ago in Bethlehem. He will come again at the end of time. He comes now in word and sacrament, and he wishes to be born again in us. He wishes to reshape, reform, and transform our bodies into his own. He wants to speak his words of love through us, and to reach out in compassion to the needy through our arms. The poet Hopkins captures this vision in his "kingfishers catch fire" poem: Christ - for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his, To the Father through the features of men's faces. 180 Mourning "I'm so sorry for your loss," I said, or I think I said that, And held out my hand to a black glove that shook, then grasped hard and held on As if my outstretched palm held gold, gold for the going, For going home tonight and leaving him there cold, alone and lonely. No, he is no longer lonely or in pain, or alone - She is. Suzanne Mayer IHM Review for Religious JOHN J. FISHER The Celibate Aunt or Uncle: Another Blessed Vocation Byrother Joe and I worked together for thirteen ears at the Catholic high school that our religious order owns and administers. Beyond our shared ministry and living in community together, we did not have much in common. As facilities manager, he was concerned with heating, ventilating, and air conditioning (HVAC) issues and requests for proposals (RFPs) to read. As a (eacher and administrator, I was concerned with Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT) scores and collegial observations to write. He loved Broadway music while I played rock and roll. He would go out for a bike ride while I went out for a run. The special thing about which we agreed was that there is no greater vocation than being a celibate uncle. With excitement we exchanged stories about fam-ily get-togethers, our nephews' and nieces' accomplish-ments, and their latest activities and e~iploits. We could John J. Fisher OSFS has worked for twenty years in secondary and now college education. His address is De Sales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Val!ey, Pennsylvania 18034. Email: john. fisher@desales.edu 181 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle Prayer is a special, gift we religious priests, brothers, and sisters offer to our nephews and nieces. 182 visit their homes, have tremendous fun with them, spoil them, sugar them up, hold the babies once changed, and then leave. We would brag about their strengths and minimize their growing pains. All of our friends heard many family stories. We knew that our nieces and neph-ews were a special grace toward living our religious life well. Let me share an anecdote. "To listen to your messages, press one; to get mes-sages, press two. 'Hey, Uncle John, this is Danny. Just calling to ask if you can pray for DJ, one of our basket-ball players at Central Catholic. He got in a car acci-dent driving home from the school dance. He must have fallen asleep and drove off into a ditch. The police didn't find him till the next morning. He's in a coma. Please pray for him. Okay? Love you.'" As Danny was only in fifth grade when he left this mes-sage, it tells me three things. First, Danny already has his sights set on playing basketball at the high school level. He even speaks as if he is already part of the team, telling me "we lost a close one last night." Second, not only does Danny believe in the power of prayer, but he is other-centered, especially if the other is a star athlete. Third, Danny looks to his celibate uncle as one to whom he can go for prayers of intercession. Danny is now in sixth grade, DJ is recovering nicely, and I am still blessed with the privilege of praying for the intentions of my siblings and their greatest gift to me: their sons and daughters. Review for Religious Prayer is a special gift we religious priests, brothers, and sisters offer to our nephews and nieces. Because of our vocation and its implicit commitment to individual and communal prayer, we become the obvious "go-to" people to pray for people's petitions. We are asked to pray for this nephew's intention, this niece's special favor,~ or that of someone we do not even know but who is dear to our loved ones. They believe not only in the power of prayer, but very specially in our including them and their intentions in ours. Our fidelity to prayer in our state in life frees us to do just that. Several years ago I was challenged by a classmate to include my family, naming each one individually, in the intercessory part of my prayer life. Daily, morn-ing and evening, I conclude the intercessory portion of my prayer by naming all my siblings and their children from oldest to youngest. I include the intentions I know abouh ones specially asked for and unvoiced ones I sense are needed. In a generic way, I pray through the inter-cession of our parents (the young people's grandparents) that all within the family may be safe, protected from harm, happy, healthy, faithful to parents' and grand-parents' good example, and open to the presence and blessing of the Lord. Depending on the situation, I add specific intentions, from guidance in choosing a college to success in a master's program. Including them daily in prayer brings to mind the gift they are as individuals and our special relationship with each other. It is also a daily reminder of the tremendous gift of prayer and the need to specially cultivate this treasure. In addition to prayer, there are other aspects of the spiritual place we have in our relatives' lives. We are always invited to receptions of a new sacrament, the yearly school Christmas plays, and every gradua- 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle tion. Our relatives expect something spiritual from us, whether it is a holy card or a blessing on their fore-heads. Our small monetary gifts are always appreci-ated in a unique way, for they know we do not have the wherewithal that other aunts and uncles may have. It is often the celibate aunt or uncle that remembers all the birthdays of nephews and nieces. They count on us for the yearly birthday card, perhaps one at Halloween, and a small gift at Christmas. They call on us for that spe-cial "religion project" or an answer to some theological question. Of course, this can be a mixed blessing. When we do not know offhand who was the mother of Ruth or the pope of frequent communion, they call into ques-tion how we got ordained or what kind of a religious we are. We are, though, privileged to baptize them, to give them their first Eucharist, to witness their exchange of marriage vows or to read at their wedding. We hear of them explaining our way of life to their friends with a sense of special pride, bragging in their own way. Many of them call us weekly to "check in," affording us the opportunity to affirm and to express our ongoing love for them. We are their personal cheerleaders in each and every adventure, whether it is a passing fad or a passion that perdures. They expect us to say that they played well regardless. They understand that we have a right to be biased in thinking they were the best on the stage, on the court, or on the playing field. Every picture they paint is a Rembrandt, and every musical composition borders on something worthy of Carnegie Hall. Our nephews and nieces give us joy and hope. We are privileged to share their lives and stories in a way that maybe their other aunts and uncles cannot, because they are necessarily attentive to their own children's Review for Religious journeys. With no children of our own, we have the freedom to be the special aunt or uncle. They all become ours in a special way, collectively and individually. In a special bond of trust, we may be privy to hear-ing something that their own parents do not yet know (one getting stopped by the police for driving over the speed limit or a niece protecting a nephew from getting into trouble). Such discreet listening is usually not seri-ous, and things turn out well. We serve as a compassionate ear when they are not ready to go to their parents. They come to us for hope, under-standing, and accep-tance. They know clearly that we would never withhold something their parents need to know, but we can still listen to them as they tell us that their parents do not understand or are being unreasonable. They hope that we may serve as the voice of reason interceding for them to have a cell phone, be allowed to drive to school, or stay out just a little longer. We may be able to reach them simply because we are not their parents. We can be their sounding board, and we can help them realize how deeply their parents love and care for them, sensitizing them to the delicate vocation of parenting. All of this allows us to bring, with pride and vital-ity, this great sense of family into our homilies or our classes. In understanding them, their accomplishments, and their gradual maturation, we are able to relate to parents to whom we preach or whose children we teach. We may be able to r each them simply because we are not' their parents. 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle Our love manifests itself in our being compassionate and gentle with those whom we serve and who in various ¯ ways are similar to our nephews and nieces. It lets us see that there is no vocation more difficult, more precious, and more needed than parenting. Invited into the homes and lives of our siblings, we get a real sense of what it means to parent and to grow up in this changing world as a child, teenager, or young adult. In sharing these sto-ries, our preaching and teaching become real, vital, chal-lenging, and spirit filled. We can offer a strong sense of faith because we have received it from these relatives of ours. Our siblings' fidelity to their spouses and children exhorts us to a renewed commitment to be poor, chaste, and obedient for our own sakes and for the world. The relationship afforded us as aunts and uncles reminds us that we were born into a natural family before entering our religious family. We journey like everyone else as we see our loved ones struggling in school, working tirelessly to afford tuition, striving to stay sober, searching for employment, or hoping to find that special soul mate. We prayerfully accompany their growing pains, seeing the cycle in one after another. We serve as one who, standing off in the distance, perceives the special quality in each of them and then helps them appreciate their own unique spark of the divine. With everyone we have different relationships that change and grow over the years. With each of several families, we may experience different traditions, habits, and customs. But we highlight for all of them a larger sense of family, a broad sense of gift, and the God who is the giver of all. We can also share with family our religious lives and what we have to offer from our own ministry. We can offer a sense of hope to siblings who are so closely con-nected to their children that they cannot see beyond an Review for Religious attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), a poor self-image, a lack of responsibility, an inability to make this team or star in that role. We can remind them that their children's growing edges are no different from other children's, and we can offer the assurance that "things take time" and "this, too, shall pass." We may downplay the seriousness they see as concerned parents, knowing ourselves the greater severity of some other peo-ple's worries. With the passing of years, - we can reflect back to our nephews and nieces and their parents the fine growth and maturing we have observed. At the same time, we may be disconcerted that they grow up so quickly. We take another look at ourselves, our mortality, the fragility of our life, and may wonder what lessons we will have handed down to them. Additionally, we share our religious family, its mem-bers, and its charism with our relatives. We occasionally invite our natural family into the intimacy of our reli-gious family, where a mutual enrichment is enjoyed that enhances each family. We enjoy hearing our nephews and nieces call our fellow religious by their first names (Bob, Jack, Mary, Pat), showing the close bond they share instead of using titles like Father, Sister, Brother. They become extended members of our various reli-gious orders, championing our cause and ministry, even becoming our cheerleaders, bragging about our spirit, charism, and apostolates. Later in life, they invite us into their newly formed families and homes. They come We can also share with family our religious lives and what we have to offer from our own ministry. 187 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle 188 to visit, take us to dinner, invite us on their vacations, and support us as benefactors. These sentiments and relationships may not always be the lived situation. For some religious, they might not be real or feel real. Perhaps we find ourselves at odds with members of our family. We religious are like people everywhere. Though wonderfully redeemed, we are keenly aware of our flaws and sinfulness, and our fellow religious remind us of them. This is a blessing of living the communal life. But, sadly, we may find our-selves estranged from members o~ one or both of our two families. If so, a question needs to be asked: Is there anything so devastating that prayer, grace, and the pres-ence of God cannot heal? Of course, we cannot make up for lost time direcdy. Our nephews and nieces only have one "first communion," special recital, or game-winning three pointer. But, still, let us work at being gende and loving toward members of our families. Let us be vul-nerable to their forgiveness or compassion so that their grace and spirit may enrich our lives and ministries. They have much to teach us about being pastoral. Our nephews and nieces have trust in us. They value our vocation as religious and the graced role we serve as their special aunts and uncles dedicated to God's wider family. They can inspire us to a tremendous sense of fidelity. They need us to be women and men of integ-rity, faithful to our calling and our ministry. When it becomes difficult to be faithful, when it feels desirable to be anything but poor, chaste, and obedient, who we are to them and for them can serve as our motive to be the religious we vowed to be in the presence of God, the church, and that family of ours. We must not dis-appoint them. Being a celibate aunt or uncle is more than another hat, another role, another relationship. It Review for Religious is a phenomenal blessing like few others that breathes meaning into who we are--and how we are that uncle or aunt for all of God's people. Brother Joe and I no longer live in the same local community. When we gather for a communal celebra-tion, we keep each other abreast not just of our doings, but rather of our lives as uncles, our blessing as uncles, and all the joy that our nephews and nieces bring to us. Personal and Group Reflection 1. How has this article stimulated me to reflect on my vocation choice as I relate to the younger members of my family? 2. Acknowledging the tensions that arise in family relationships, can I reflect on some success stories in handling a difficult time? Invitation to Prayer The lake reflects a mirror calm, scents of wildflowers fill the air, a lone deer at the water's edge stares into the depths of heaven. Evergreens frame the tranquil scene, fir and pine in a regal pose, anticipating the coming of the finch and wren and sparrow. It is a time to approach God, to savor his creations, to let him penetrate the soul, raise the spirit, possess the heart. Neil C. Fitzgerald 67.2 2008 DAVID L. FLEMING gnatian exercising What Is a "First Week Retreat"? The Ignatian retreat of a few days to a week has commonly been called a "First Week" retreat. Ignatius himself described an adapta-tion of the full four-week Exercises with the phrase "giving the First Week exercises." The assumed focus has traditionally been on "sin" as outlined by Ignatius in the five explicit "exercises" of the First Week. In the tradition it has been acknowledged that Ignatius allows for some instruction on prayer as described at the end of the Exercises and on the various examens that are briefly explained at the beginning of the First Week. In this brief study, however, I want to focus on the prayer exercises, not on the instructions the retreat director may give. :190 ] David L. Fleming SJ is nearing twenty years as this jour-nal's editor. He first published the following article in the Indian journal Ignis, volume 37, number 3. Review for Religious Despite the practice known as "traditional," espe-cially with the retreats preached in the 19th- and 20th-century retreat houses, I question whether Ignatius intends a closely literal interpretation of the First Week. Does Ignatius intend to restrict the prayer material for those making a shorter retreat to meditation only on sin? Do we not need rather to take into consideration the dynamic of the First Week in order to understand how to structure and adapt a First Week retreat? How might we describe the dynamic or movement of the grace of the First Week? It is the interplay between the grace retreatants seek and the colloquy or conver-sation they have with God in each prayer period. Although in this Week, in the second prelude, Ignatius usually suggests a specific way of praying for a grace, he also speaks generally about the way of conversing with God in the colloquies. Because he describes a colloquy as a friend talking to a friend (or perhaps a servant to his master), he presumes that the conversation flows and is not predetermined. The Ignatian dynamic appears in this interplay between the grace sought and the results of the conversation, the colloquy. In an individually directed retreat, the director listens to this interplay between the grace prayed for in the prelude and the grace received as described to the retreat director. The director thereby receives inti-mations for the direction of the following day's prayer. Ignatius places the emphasis, not on dwelling on personal sins or on evil in our world, but on being grateful t

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

Issue 60.3 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Explorations Religious Life Heritages Faithful ~Witness MAY JUNE 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 3 Review for Re, ligious,helps people respond and he faithful to God's universal call to holiness by ~naking available t_o them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: g~r,v.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this ~ssue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to t.he Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann F~ppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling AdrianGaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Patricia Wittherg SC MAY JUNE 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 3 contents explorations 230 "Women Religious, Women Deacons? Phyllis Zagano explores why a woman, secular or religious, would seek ordination as a deacon and what questions this poses f6r the corporate life of a religious institute. 245 Confidentiality: Are Religious Superiors Always Bound? Vimal Tirimanna CSSR explores whether there are limits to the professional confidentiality to be kept by ministers and religious superiors and the need for appropriate norms and sanctions. 254 The Computer's Edge: Some Social and Ethical Concerns Linda Herndon OSB introduces some of the s~cial and ethical issues in the computer world, raising some questions, and proposing some practical responses, to stimulate further discussion. 262 269 religious life Authenticity and Contact with Youth Robert P. Maloney CM calls for an asceticism of authenticity that engages and challenges young people in their passion for Christ. Obedience: Vow and Virtue in Our Contemporary World Kathy Dunne RC looks at the vow of obedience as it is born of love, forms us as lovers, and bears the fruit of love. Review for Religious 277 286 heritages ¯ Mechthild of Magdeburg's Spiritual Pilgrimage William C. Zehringer traces the complex pilgrimage story of the medieval mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg. The Poverello's Legacy Bonaventure Stefun OFMCap gives many Franciscan exemplars of poverty as lived through the centuries, all united by Francis's key notion of attachment to Jesus. 295 308 faithful witness Here I Am You Called Me? Marie Beha OSC delves into the meaning of presence, considering especially how we might respond more fully to God and to others. Leap Over the Wall: Why Did I Not? Mary Anne Huddleston IHM offers her personal witness to the commitment value of consecrated life. departments 228 Prisms 314 Canonical Counsel: Requirements for Temporary Profession 320 Book Reviews May-June 2001 prisms To opposing tendencies vie within us from the very beginning of life. Human beings are described as always struggling to stay within the comfort life of the womb and yet pushing to find a con-tinuing newness of life outside the womb. We rejoice in the known, the familiar, what has always been, the traditional. We can be enlivened also by the unknown, what is new and untried, the innovative. A healthy passage between these two human tendencies is caught up in the activity called exploration. Our growth as chil-dren came through exploration; we grow as adults only if we continue regularly to experience the exploratory passage, a passage that joins the past to the future. When John Paul II made his appeal for a new evan-gelization, it was an exploratory call. It was not imme-diately evident to all of us Catholics how far this call extended. We are beginning to realize that a new evan-gelization takes in not just ways of proclaiming the gospel that are effective for our time but also ways of celebrating that proclamation. The latest revisioning of the sacramentary and lectionary is a part of this continuing renewal of our efforts in celebrating the Eucharist as the central mystery of our faith. We con-tinue to explore the passage between the liturgical rites as we have known them and a new formulation of these rites that may more effectively help today's people understand their meaning in relation to contemporary patterns of thought and expectation. A liturgical spirituality rightly has pride of place. But so-called "popular" devotions are important too. In the Roman Catholic Latin rite, expression found in liturgical prayer usually remains formal, with feelings restricted and subjective emotions set aside--whatever the vernacular translation. The more personal and emo- Review for Reli#ous tive piety that was characteristic of Catholic devotional life in the 19th and 20th centuries--expressed in popular language and images--necessarily had to recede in importance after Vatican Council II. The explorations central to our faith expression in baptism, Eucharist, and reconciliation focused all of our worship-ing energy. Marian devotions, Sacred Heart devotions, Eucharistic holy hours, and Stations of the Cross suffered a time of eclipse. Granted that the central place of the Eucharistic celebration and the other sacraments has been properly positioned for us Catholics, we are now enabled to express our persistent hunger and need to nourish our Catholic life also in nonliturgical or, perhaps more positively, more personal and popular ways. As an integral part of our actively entering into our new evangelization, we need to explore devotions that do not seem to be relics of the past, but rather are "new" prayerful ways of celebrating our faith that express the yearnings of our hearts today. What form will these explorations take? We cannot say since devotional life is so much shaped by the social and cultural milieu in which we live. Devotions need contemporary imaging, vocal expressions, and musical or quasi-musical rhythms that appeal to today's people. For example, does the May procession and crown-ing of Mary as queen--a memory many Catholics treasure-- emphasize rather the distancing of Mary from our daily experience rather than her closeness? What may have been "devotional" at a particular time may not be a fitting expression and imaging today. Does a 40-hour Eucharistic devotion fit the rhythm of our social milieu or would a 7 p.m.zto-12 midnight or a 24-hour, all-night vigil speak better? We need to explore how these "old" devotions can be truly a part of our new evangelization; our exploration is an effort to stretch personal and group memories into personal and group hopes and expressions. We may look to the renewal of some of our older devotions such as the devotion to the Sacred Heart (identified of old with the month of June) or we may seek to honor and find our own life-inspiration by devotions expressed for one of our newly canon-ized saints who combines charity with a j3rophetic thirst for justice. Regardless, we are responding to the call for a new evangelization. Exploration is necessary for a faith that is alive and well. No, bet-ter said, exploration is necessary for us believers who want to grow in our maturity in Christ. David L. Fleming SJ May-~une 2001 explorations PHYLLIS ZAGANO Women Religious, Women Deacons? In recent years, discussion about Catholic women's ordi-nation has centered on the priesthood, and the diaconate " has been seen primarily as a step toward priesthood. The official opposition to the ordination of women as priests is well and widely known. But the official position on the ordination of women to the diaconate is that it is "under study." Conflict about the impossibility of women becoming pries(s has obscured the possibility of their becoming deacons even though, after the revival of the per.manent diaconate in the West, the concept of permanent women deacons found significant support.~ Today wtrldwide requests by individuals and groups to have'women ordained to serve the people of God strengthen the notion that the church could restore the female diaconate.2 Such possi-bility, if not probability, provides the opportunity for apostolic institutes and individual religious t6 question whether ordination would be appropriate for them cor-porately, or individually, or both. Phyllis Zagano is founding cochair of the Roman Catholic Studies Group of.the American Academy of Religion and author most recently of.Holy Saturday: An ,qrgument for the Restoration of the Female Diaconafe in tbe Catholic Church (Crossroad). She can be reached c/o Crossroad Publishing Company; 481 Eighth Avenue, #1550; New York, N.Y. 10011; and at pzagano@rcn.com. Review for Religious Why would a woman, secular or religious, wish to be ordained? There is significant resistance among women to becoming involved in a system widely viewed as patriarchal, especially in what is arguably a subservient role. Some say there is no need for ordi-nation, since everything a deacon does can be done with special permission by a lay person. Some focus on other issues. Others say the diaconate is not enough. The answers that affirm a woman's request for diaconal ordi-nation are as individual as each person's vocation to live a life of prayer and service. The unfolding of a single lifelong quest for God has many different layers, and vocations often grow in unex-pected directions. The deacon's vocation is to a life as "minister of the word, of the liturgy, and of charity.''3 Numbers of women's institutes find one or another of these calls, perhaps all, in their founding documents. In fact, women religious are always involved in works of charity, as they can be most broadly described, and their service is similar if not identical to that of deacons. Hence, why should women religious not be formally present and repre-sented in the liturgy? It is women religious who most clearly and most publicly enflesh the gospel. Why should they not proclaim it at Mass and explain, it in a homily? Realistically speaking, women religious are increasingly involved in diaconal work and works, and the charism of orders could only strengthen their commitments and their service. The church itself, both informally and formally, has called forth women to expressly diaconal work and works, that is, work and works that could be more fully served by women deacons. As Doris Gottemoeller RSM pointed out a few years ago, women religious are increasingly parochialized~ to the point that hundreds are parish administrators and are also increasingly involved in professional institutional chaplaincy. Further, official Vatican documents repeat-edly call for inclusion of women in official roles in the church.4 As more women are more involved (even t~ull-time) in diaconal ministries, the need to ordain them becomes clearer, in order to better serve the people of God. For example, there are obvious drawbacks when a woman religious working as a pastoral associate or chaplain does not have the ordinary authority to celebrate bap-tisms solemnly, or witness marriages, or preach, or fully lead litur-gical prayer, all of which ordained deacons do when they have standard faculties.5 If women religious are already serving in clerical roles, why not May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? add diaconal ordination to their religious charisms? Perhaps obvi-ously the answer is that the nature of lay religious life is different from the nature of clerical religigus life. For an apostolic insti-tute to ordain members, or to incorporate new members already ordained, would imply a change in its nature. Since the church in the West might at any time return to its tradition of a permanent female diaconate, these considerations are real. Even if only hypo-thetically for now, women religious might individually and cor-porately consider the possibilities and consequences of ordination. Six questions asked by the ordaining prelate in the liturgy of ordination combine to form the perfect discernment tool with regard to religious life and the diaconate. The considerations given below do not and could not cover the combinations and permu-tations in every individual case. But they can open the door to additional individual or group discernment on this important pos-sibility. Can a woman religious answer yes to these six questions? More importantly, should she? 1. Are you willing to be ordained for the church's ministry by the laying on of hands and the gift of the Holy Spirit? The woman who might be ordained would be ordained to ministry--of the word, the liturgy, and of charity. A woman reli-gious, therefore, would have the nature of her public Commitment permanently changed. The ordination to ministry would not nec-essarily replace her celibate commitment to a life of prayer and service within her apostolic religious institute, but it would change it. Here she is asked to be available not only for the works of char-ity for which deacons are known, but for "the church's mi.nistry"-- the church's pastoral ministry--of baptizing, marrying, preaching, and burying the dead. This question asks if the deacon candidate will accept the pro-fessional obligations of ministry. The church's pastoral ministry already includes many apostolic women religious; they are pas-toral associates, performing almost every work an associate pastor might. In ~iddition, women religious run the parish soup kitchen and family center, oversee catechetics and the RCIA program. The gradual shift during the last century by institutes of apostolic reli-gious from teaching or nursing in their own institutions to other historically usual works of the deacon, often within the diocesan structure, underscores the whole church's calling women to wider ministries. Women, and especially women religious, are indeed doing the work of ordained deacons. But they are not ordained. As Review for Religious I have argued elsewhere, it is not desirable for the church to con-fuse vows with ordination,6 and so I would argue here that those who are already involved in "the church's ministry" might consider the strengthening of their pastoral charisms through ordination. For the sake of discussion, we can assume that the majority of women religious who would seek diaconal ordination would also choose to remain members of their own religious institutes. Their vocational discernment would need to separate the charism of celibacy in consecrated life from the charism of ordained diaconal life, which does not require celibacy, and from the charism of celibate ordained life. While the vocation to celibate life in community is not identical to the vocation to ordained life, the two vocations are not mutually exclusive. That is, consecrated celibacy and ecclesial ministry are not mutually exclusiye, but each requires separate consideration and support. As Sandra Schneiders has recently pointed out, a "coherent theological framework within which prayer, sacramental life, and ministry make sense in themselves and in relation to each other is cru-cial to the relationship with Jesus Christ that alone justifies com-mitment in consecrated, celibacy that is at the heart of religious life.''7 By contrast, professional ministerial commitment is open to all, celibate or married, "~ho find themselves called to identify with the ministry of Christ: The charism of celibacy can be seen as analogous but not identical to the deacon's call to be minister of the word, the liturgy, and of charity. Again, the call to diaconal ministry does not nec-essarily include celibacy. While the charism of consecrated celibacy might be more broadly experienced by the church if the majority of ordained women religious remained in their institutes, as such this charism should not be confused with the separate and distinct call to diaconal orders. The call to the diaconate is specifically and primarily "f6r the church's ministry," not for an apostolic min-istry arising from celibate commitment within a religious .insti- I would argue that those who are already involved in "the church's ministry" might consider the s~rengthening of their pastoral charisms through ordination. May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? tute, even though the two calls may coexist in one person and in one institute. The operative points in this question are whether and how the woman religious would participate in the church's ministry while remaining a member of her institute. Those are matters of discernment to be taken up by her,.her superior, and--if she is the first of her institute to ask to be ordained--by the chapter of her institute. 2. Are you resolved to discharge the office of deacon with humility and love in order to assist the bishop and the priests and to serve the people of Christ? There is an ancient document in which a bishop sets forth the qualities necessary for women to be ordained deacons. His major concern is that they be able to get along with the priests.9 Church history, then and now, is replete with examples of ten-sions between priests and deacons. Humility is not humiliation, but many contemporary deacons suffer the latter in their relations with priests, who in many cases just do not know what to do with them and are often threatened by their presence. These insecuri-ties will not be cured by adding ordained women to the mix, but they might be overcome through hard work and loving consider-ation on both sides. There is no question that priests need assis-tance in the pastoral care of souls, and many have learned how to effectively and professionally accept the assistance both of women, secular and religious, and of deacons; the new challenge would be to accept the assistance of women deacons. But the diaconate is not the priesthood, and an objection to the church's potential returning of women to the ranks of ordained deacons (without creating women priests) is that the women dea-cons would still be serving in subordinate positions to men. In many cases, of course, this is true. Yet significant numbers of men serve in the same subordinate positions to other men. Also, many deacons serve in leadership positions in rural dioceses and mis-sion territories. The many women serving in similar situations would be able.to expand their ministries if they were ordained. One source of tension between priests and deacons might dis-appear if the majority of women ordained were to remain as mem-bers of their religious institutes. Currendy most permanent deacons are married. Very few of the unmarried deacons are religious, pointing to a clear distinction between the vocations even though they are combined in the lives of some individuals. There are Review for Religious 25,345 deacons in 129 countries around the world, of whom 514, or two percent, are religious,l° In contrast, there are 404,208 priests in the world, of whom 140,687, or thirty-five percent, are reli-gious, l' These statistics seem to indicate that the distinction between celibate secular and religious life among the ordained is clear, but the vocations are not mutually exclusive. Whether thirty-three percent (the percentage of religious among today's deacons and priests) of the women ordained to the diaconate would become or remain members of religious insti-tutes is, of course, unknown. It is not likely that women candidates for the dia-conate would come mostly from women religious. Rather, many older married women and widows might seek to ratify and intensify through diaconal ordina-tion their commitments to their current volunteer or professional service of the people of God as catechists, lectors, Eucharistic ministers,.and chaplains or pastoral associates. Similarly, young Catholic women now in master-of-divin-ity programs in Protestant and Catholic .seminaries might seek diaconal ordination. Current statistics on lay catechists and other church workers suggest that seventy per-cent of women deacons would be married or single seculars and thi'rty percentof women deacons would be members of religious institutes. The challenge to all the women who envision possible ordi-nation to the diaconate is to recognize with h.umility and love that, practically speaking, they would be assisting the priests, but that their reason for being ordained is to serve the people of God. 3. Are you resolved to hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and to proclaim this faith in word and action as it is taught by the gospel and the church's tradition? A significant number of the women presently engaged in min-isterial studies are in programs at denominational or interde-nominational Protestant seminaries. There are many reasons for this. Such seminaries are generally in cities, often near or even attached to major" universities, and therefore accessible. These seminaries are often well endowed, and they have substantial schol- It is not likely that women candidates for the diaconate would come mostly from women religious. May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? arship programs available to women. And master-of-divinity pro-grams at American Catholic seminaries, and specifically at dioce-san seminaries, are not generally available to women. VChile many Catholic seminaries have a second-track "institute" that allows those who are not candidates for priesthood to study with the same faculty, the training offered is not identical and formation possibilities are often minimal. The extraordinary success of the programmatic exceptions to these general statements proves the thirst of many for professional training and ministry formation by and for Catholics. But, in fact, many Catholic women have studied and continue to study at Protestant seminaries; they are or soon will be ministering in dia-conal roles throughout the country. Not all are fully convinced of all church teachings, and their Protestant training has not pro-vided support for such acceptance. It remains to be seen whether they could be resolved to hold with a clear conscience "the mys-tery of the faith., and the church's tradition." The controversial issues that secular women students and min-isters presently consider, sometimes outside the boundaries of ordinary church teaching, might not be so prevalent among reli-gious, or at least among women religious who might be ordained to the diaconate. Even so, there are current ways of discussing certain topics, principally homosexuality, abortion, contraception, and priestly ordination for women, that could render women can-didate~ ineligible for diaconal ordination. Further, there are mis-conceptions and misperceptions about certain church dogmas, from Eucharist to original sin, that would similarly end an indi-vidual candidacy on its merits rather than on the question of gen-der. If these variant positions are indelibly held, for whatever reason, then the woman in question might still be able to minis-ter as a lay catechist--as many currently do--without diaconal ordination. In fact, some might considerdiaconal ordination a hindrance to ministry rather than an enhancement. There is a trend toward this way of thinking among some women in the church. The issue is not necess~arily bound up with any of the neuralgic questions listed above; it is, rather, managing to live a ministerial life without entering the hierarchy or, bluntly, the "male" system. The individual woman not in diaconal orders is in no way bound to the bishop and need not fear his pro-nouncements except insofar as she is employed by him or by one of his parishes or agencies. Even so, many parishes and agencies Review for Religious retain employees whose full consent with all church teaching is neither required nor requested, except perhaps officially. Any effort by an individual bishop to formally require such consent is viewed as draconian at best, and so short-staffed bishops in good economic times can tend to let well enough alone, and not enter too deeply into parish and agency employee matters. The woman, secular or religious, who would seek diaconal orders would have to answer some difficult questions in her own heart and mind about Magisterial teaching, not the least of which would be the theological anthropology, history, sacramental the-ology, and ecclesiology that would allow her to be ordained a deacon while refusing her priestly orders. Hence there is every possibility that individual women can-didates for ordination might have problems when asked if they "hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and [will] proclaim this faith in word and action as it is taught by the gospel and the church's tradition." 4. Are you resolved to maintain and deepen a spirit of prayer appropriate to your way of life and, in keeping with what is required of you, to celebrate faithfully the liturgy of the hours for the church and for the whole world? This is an interesting consideration for apostolic women reli-gious. The celebration of the liturgy of the hours generally required of all clerics includes the office of readings, morning prayer, one daytime prayer, evening prayer, and night prayer. Though this fourth question includes some interesting phrases, "appropriate to your way of life" and "in keeping with what is required of you," one can .assume that up to an hour of each day is expected to be devoted to the liturgy of the hours, in addition to the time given to the liturgy of the Eucharist and any private meditation, scripture study, and spiritual reading. This is a significant commitment of time. Contemplative and monastic orders celebrate the full liturgy either publicly (spending considerably more than an hour) or both privately and publicly, but many apostolic women religious are no longer accustomed to praying even a portion of the liturgy of the hours, even privately. Along with their living more in nontradi-tional settings, formal prayer in choir has diminished. These changes in institutional religious life at first created a growth medium for different types of communal prayer, often developed by individuals 6r by individual communities. Continued changes May-ffune 2001 Zagano ¯ Wonten Religious, Wotnen Deacons? in communal life, however, have often led to the dropping even of these individualized prayer services from daily to perhaps monthly gatherings, usually with members of 'an intentional prayer group rather than with the "same roof' community. Each permutat!on moves apostolic religious farther from the tradition of praying the liturgy of the hours "for the church and for the whole world," both publicly and privately. A woman religious who would accept the obligations of the liturgy of the hours might find herself limited by time and space from participating in the life-giving communal prayer that nour-ished her desire to seek ordination in the first place. It wouid be as difficult to choose one or the other as it would be to choose both. Where the development of differing types of communal prayer for and among women religious has in many cases created opportunities for growth, it has also intensified the male-female divide, where most of the men (as clerics) and most of th~ women (as apostolic religious) have habits of prayer that are distinct from each other. (In North America, as is true worldwide, there are about twice as many apostolic women religious as priests, secular or religious.12) One would think, therefore, that the obligation to pray the liturgy of the hours might present a challenge to women. But, while all clerics are obliged to celebrate the liturgy of the hours, diocesan directors of diaconate programs state that few deacons do. This is the import of the phrases "appropriate to your way of life" and "in keeping with what is required of you." Typical married working deacons are sincerely encouraged to pray at least thd "hinges" of the day: morning and evening prayer, and night prayer too. Many, if not most, cannot pray the office of readings. Some cannot attend daily Mass. Some do not engage daily in extended personal prayer or scripture reading. While this information is anecdotal at best, it seems little would be actually added to the schedule of a woman religious, whose personal and communal practices probably already exceed those of the typical deacon. So this question could clearly be answered in the affirmative by the. woman religious who sought ordination to the diaconate. 5. Are you resolved to shape your way of life always according to the example of Christ, whose bo.dy and blood you will give to the people? The question is deceptively simple for women religious, whose lives are a constant endeavor to conform their whole' beings to Review for Religious Christ. That they have been engaged in such a struggle for their entire adult lives creates in some cases a distance between them and most secular candidates for the permanent diaconate or the priest-hood. While the emphasis in religious formation is on formation, and in seminary training on training, deacon candidates do receive a certain amount of formation. But religious formation-- focusing as it does, or at least has done, on prayer, life in community, and participation in institutional ministries--creates a qualitative dif-ference that is sometimes strikingly obvious. Many personal qualities stressed in the formation of women religious can translate positively to ordained diaconal service, just as in the case of the ordained service of men religious. A specific attitude of prayer, and selfless ded-ication to mission, are sometimes difficult to obtain later in life, especially by married candidates for orders who have the complica-tions of their secular lives to deal with: spouses, children, grandchil-dren, mortgages, careers, and political life. Of course, the differences can be seen both positively and nega-tively. Since the secular laity con-stitute ninety-nine percent of the church, one might argue that, rather than from among women religious, deacons ought be taken from among mature lay people. One might theorize that some of today's criticisms of celibate sec-ular (male) priests would be leveled at celibate secular (female) deacons. Criticisms of religious priests, which could be equally leveled at religious deacons, often revolve around the apparent and sometimes real financial and personal security of priests and religious. Secular lay persons often complain of a sort of "macu-lar degeneration" in the worldview of religious, ~ blindness to cer-tain exigencies of secular life, a chasm of nonunderstanding. While religious, as countercultural witnesses to the gospel, must be inde-pendent of political exigencies, they must recognize and constandy guard against such blindness. The very fact that women religious are personally and financially free to give prophetic witness to unpopular causes runs the risk of overpowering the poor, whom they most wish to serve. Criticism comes easily, and, since no one Many personal qualities stressed in the formation of women religious can translate positively to ordained diaconal service. ~lay-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? knows precisely what it means to be a woman deacon, these shoals and narrows must be viewed as opportunities. The delicate nature of ministry is enclosed in this question: Can the candidate for the diaconate shape a "way of life always according to the example of Christ"? It would be a radical chal-lenge for a woman religious to continue to live her religious pro-fession completely and freely while adding the responsibility of living out the charism of orders. Would she better continue to serve as a lay religious in commitment to the gospel, or would she better combine that commitment with the charism of ordained service? Beyond, would she better incorporate in her religious life and ministry the charism of ordained diaconal service, for which there is little precedent? In fact, the spiritual!ty of the diaconate is not well developed. For the deacon, what does it Mean to shape a way of life according to the example of Christ? What does it mean to shape a way of life according to the example of Christ for the woman who would be a deacon, and who would be considered in rank with other mostly married male deacons? These are questions that will.really only be answered by the first few women deacons. Practically speaking, it may only be women religious who are available to make the rad-ically prophetic choice to be ordained and serve as deacons in what are mostly uncharted waters. 6. Do you promise respect and obedience to me and my successors? Ordained women religious would remain bound to their supe-riors; ordained secular women would become bound to their dioce-san bishop. When asked of secular candidates, this question would bind a woman to her bishop for all matters: assignments, faculties, man-ner of dress, and so forth, and through him to the universal law of the church. The ordination of secular women to the diaconate would create a class of women whose ministry would be specifically at the disposal of the diocesan bishop. However, when a religious is ordained to the diaconate, this last question refers only to the religious superior and is generally rephrased to reflect the obedience of vowed religious. Only the religious superior gives permission to a member to be ordained; only the religious superior decides what work the religious cleric will take up. No bishop may unilaterally assign a religious to a work, and the local ordinary has authority and jurisdiction only Review for Religqous over what is done in his name, for example, the celebration of liturgies and sacraments (baptisms, marriages, and so forth) and actual work within the diocesan structure. Practically speaking, there may be no advantage to orders for the woman religious outside the diocesan ~tructure, because any-thing she might do that requires clerical status (with the possible exception of preaching homilies at Eucharistic liturgies) would be done in the name of the bishop and with his permission. So the determination here would be whether her religious superior would find ordination necessary for the individual religious's assigned work. That said, there are women reli-gious in the diocesan structure, and the needs of the people of God whom they serve as pastoral associates, tri-bunal judges, chancellors, and chap-lains would be better addressed by a more permanent.authorization, rather than by temporary or ad hoc lay juriso diction.13 The deeper question regarding the ordination of wtmen religious centers on authority and jurisdiction within the religious institute. Institutes of consecrated life are either diocesan or pontifical. Neither is exempt from obedience to ordinaries in matters pertaining to their episcopal authority, but superiors and chapters of institutes retain their power over their members, even if some or all of their members are clerics (canon 596). Canon Law provides for only two types of religious institutes: clerical and lay (canon 588). While, stricdy speaking, clerical insti-tutes must be headed by clerics, men's institutes that include lay brothers have obtained rescripts, or special permissions, to include brothers in their governments. These rescripts indicated that a clerical member of the institute be designated to carry out acts of jurisdiction requiring orders, and it is not clear the need would arise if the only clerical members were deacons. Since the Second Vatican Council, lay institutes have been able to allow members to be ordained without changing the nature of the institutes from lay to clerical.'4 After the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life, Pope John Paul II established a special com-mission to study jurisdiction questions within mixed (clerical-and- The deeper question regarding the ordination of women religious centers on authority and jurisdiction within the religious institute. Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? lay) institutes, but the provision for lay institutes to remain lay while allowing some of their members to be ordained already exists. So there is no need to assume that the woman religious deacon would automatically cause her institute to give up its essen-tially lay status by allowing her ordination.'s The considerations implied by this final question about respect for and obedience to the ordaining prelate include whether insti-tutes might admit women who were previously ordained. Canon law provides for these exigencies in the case of men previously ordained who wish to enter religious orders, and there is no reason to think, theoretically at least, that ordained secular women could not become members of apostolic institutes of women religious. In discerning her vocation to orders, however, a woman religious would have to discern whether she would choose ordi-nation over membership, should her institute in chapter decline to include ordained members or should her superior decline to give her permission to be ordained. This presents a radical challenge of both vocation and obedience, and underscores the authority of superiors and chapters. These painful possibilities of growth are facts of life. Some women religious might be required to choose between ordination and their religious institutes, but not necessarily between ordi-nation and religious life. Women religious who chose orders over membership might well form new religious institutes, either wholly clerical or clerical-and-lay, creating a new expression of religious life. The larger consideration for women religious corporately is their insertion in the lay state. While canon law says that by its very nature religious life is neither clerical nor lay, women religious can rightly claim "outsider" status to the hierarchical system, even though their public pronouncements and political involvements are identically restricted. It is both significant and interesting that most women's institutes are more clearly led by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious than by the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. This is not new: monastics have always sought to be independent of local ordinaries. Whether ordained women religious would shift the balance of an institute remains t6 be seen, but their ordination would clearly depend, among other things, upon the needs of their institute and of the church at large. In this matter the specific charism incorporated in lay religious insti-tutes would need to be guarded, and an institute's decision against Review for Religious their members' becoming ordained would probably depend chiefly upon such a safeguard. Women religious, especially in the United States, are poised in a particular moment of freedom to raise their voices in defense of the poor and the marginalized. Though they comprise an aging population--the median age is approximately sixty-nine--women religious might, in prophetic witness to the gospel, decide that as lay religious they have nothing left to lose and clerical status might change that.~6 But, then again, it might not. The church needs the service of women and of all who would seriously take up the challenge of the gospel. One might say, "Would that all God's people were prophets!" Let us acknowledge that some women religious might better serve as clerics, and others not. Either choice is prophetic. Notes ~ The 1971 report of a committee of the Catholic Theological Society of America, "The Office of Deacon as a Lifetime State," recommended ordaining women deacons and was printed in American Ecclesiastical Review (March 1971), Crux (19 March 1971), Worship (April 1971), and Catholic Mind (May 1971). See also Clergy Review 56 (1971): 891-893. Additional contemporary discussion on the topic can be found in Agnes Cunningham SSCM, "Women and the Diaconate," American Ecclesiastical Review 165 (1971): 158-166; Peter HiJnermann, "Note: Conclusions Regarding the Female Diaconate," Theological Studies 36 (1975): 325- 333; A.M. Tortras, "Women Priests or Women Deacons?" Theology Digest 29, no. 3 (Fall 1981), translation of "~Mujeres Presbftero o Mujeres Di~cono? Apuntes para una Ordenaci6n de la Mujer," Estudios Eclesifisticos 55, no. 214 (1980): 355-368. ' I have presented an argument from theological anthropology, sacra-mental theology, history, ecclesiology, and law in Phyllis Zagano, Holy Saturday: An Argument for the Restoration of the Female Diaconate in the Catholic Church (Crossroad/Herder, 2000). 3 Roman Ritual, Ordination of Deacons. 4 Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "The Priesthood: Implications in Consecrated Life for Women," in A Concert of Charisms: Ordained Ministry in Religious Life, ed. Paul K. Hennessy CFC (New York: Paulist Press, 1997), pp. 127-138. s The Archdiocese of Anchorage, Alaska, first received a renewable rescript to allow lay persons to solemnly baptize and to witness mar-riages in 1990. A few women religious who are administrators of rural parishes and two other lay person.s have been so authorized on a case-by-case basis. 6 Zagano, Holy Saturday, pp. 142-145. 7 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women-Religious, Women Deacons? Religious Life in a New Ecdesial and Cultural Context (New York: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 149. 8 Schneiders rightly points out that the specific charism of celibacy for religious is distinct from the unmarried state of the secular cleric. 9 Apostolic Canons of the Church, canon 21. See Josephine Mayer, Monumenta de viduis diaconissis virginibusque tractantia (Bonn: P. Hanstein, 1938), which includes a significant collection of early documents about women deacons. 10 "The Permanent Diaconate Today," A Research Report by the Bis}~ops' Committee on the Diaconate of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops and by the Center for Applied Research on the Apostolate (June 2000), p. 2. " 2000 Catholic Almanac (Huntington: Our Sunday Visitor, 2000), p. 345, citing Statistical Yearbook of the Church, 1997. 12 There are 819,279 sisters and 404,208 priests. Statistics do not dif-ferentiate between women religious who are "sisters" in apostolic insti-tutes and those who were formerly called "nuns" in cloistered orders. 2000 Catholic Almanac, p. 345. 13 A committee of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, drawing on the LCWR "Benchmarks" study, is analyzing lay jurisdiction. See Jeanean D. Merkel, ed., Creating a Home: Benchmarks for Church Leadership Roles for Women (Silver Spring, Md.: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1996). 14 Canon Law Society of America, The Canonical Implications of Ordaining Women to the Permanent Diaconate (Washington, D.C.: Canon Law Society of America, 1995), pp. 47-48, citing Vatican Council II, Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis), §10. See also Paul Vl, Sacrum diaconatus ordinem, §32, which provides for religious institutes to have some permanent deacons among their members. ~s Territorial monasteries of women present a special case because their prioresses and abbesses have historically had quasi-episcopal author-ity. For the sake of the argument here, we consider only apostolic insti-tutes of women. t6 As of 30 December 1999, the median age of women religious in the United States was 68.49, up from 67.87 in the previous year, according to a study commissioned by the National Religious Retirement Office, Washington, D.C. Review for Religious VIMAL TIRIMANNA Confidentiality: Are Religious Superiors Always Bound? In the Catholic tradition the superiors or animators of reli- .~. gious congregations and communities are expected to respect confidentiality, especially with regard to delicate personal, infor-mation regarding members, to which they have relatively easy access. In church discipline, howdver, there is no official sanction or limit attached to this conventional norm. On the one hand, if a superior violates such confidentiality and thus damages the good name of the confiding member, there are no clear prescriptions in the church's universal law about how the superior is to be dealt with. On the other hand, it is not officially established how a supe-rior ought to act when a member violates the confidentiality and unjustly damages the good name of the superior. Is it only the superior who.is bound by confidentiality? Or, when a member vio-lates confidentiality and damages:the superior's good name (or anyone else's), is the superior still bound by confidentiality? In this essay I attempt to answer these questions, using tradi-tional Catholic moral principles. First I illustrate the point at stake with a real incident well known among religious in Sri Lanka. Then I briefly analyze this kind of confidentiality in terms of its close associate, the professional secret. I examine why conflden- Vimal Tirimanna CSSR is provincial of his congregations's Sri Lankan province and president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Sri Lanka. His address is: 80, Amfritiya Road; Kandy; Sri Lanka. May-.]une 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality tiality is essential in certain professions and ministries. Finally I examine whether such professional secrecy always binds the pro-fessional, the minister, the religious superior. A Real Case In 1998 two temporarily professed seminarians (one for four years, one for three) belonging to a clerical religious congrega-tion wrote to their major superior for his approval of their going out to do secular work for a couple of years and thereby testing their vocations. Since the formators and the superiors were already having some serious doubts about these two seminarians' suit-ability for consecrated life, the major superior, with his council's consent, readily approved the request. In the same year another seminarian (temporarily professed for two years) applied for dis-pensation within a week of renewing his vows, saying he Wanted to help his family financially by getting a.secular job. After much hesitation and dialogue, the major superior together with his coun-cil granted the dispensation. At the beginning of the year 2000, all three of these seminar-ians-- with the help of a former, major superior of the same con-gregation (who had been living outside his community illegitimately ever since he left office) and a disgruntled priest member of the same congregation (who had been illegitimately ~bsent for almost two years)--applied to join a diocese in Australia. All three were accepted for the diocese without any consultation of their major superior. The major superior wrote to the Congregation for Catholic Education in Rome, inquiring whether such circumventing of him by the bishop was licit. The Roman congregation asked the bishop for an explanation, and the bishop brought this to the notice of the three seminarians. In the mean-time the disgruntled priest member, living in the same diocese, got hold of the three seminarians and together they wrote a letter to Rome maligning the good name of the present major superior, their intention being to belittle his credibility in the eyes of the Roman dicastery and thus influence the latter's decision. The major superior's predecessor also wrote a letter, to the bishop in Australia, holding the present major superior responsible for the "ruin" of the congregation in Sri Lanka, especially for the dwindling number of members, and charging that it was the same superior's ruth-lessness that drove the three seminarians away from the congre- Review for Religious gation. He sent copies of the letter to several bishops and major superiors in Sri Lanka, obviously with the intention of eroding fur-ther the credibility of the major superior. Note here that the major superior, together with his council, had already initiated a canon-ical process against the disgruntled priest who was illegitimately absent in Australia and against the ex-major superior, also illegiti-mately absent from his religious community. Could this be their, way of settling scores with the major superior? On his part, the Australian bishop sent a copy of this let-ter of the ex-major superior to the above-mentioned Roman dicastery to justify his action of not consulting the major supe-rior before he accepted the three semi-narians to his diocese. After weighing all the matters at stake, the Congregation for Catholic Education instructed the Australian bishop, to consult the Sri Lankan major superior, saying that, acc.ording to the accepted official prac-tice, he ought to have consulted him before taking those three seminarians into his diocese. Apparently the Roman congrega-tion's stipulation to consult the major superior at least at that late stage was the only way of settling the issue in a spirit of Christian charity. But what about the damage this entire episode caused to the major superior? His good name was unjustly tarnished, and he had no way of defending himself, which was surely a legitimate right of his. As the major superior, he could not simply divulge certain vital information regarding the three seminarians and two priests-- which would have given the other side of the story and defended him. He was bound by confidentiality. Ironically, confidentiality, which normally serves to protect the good name of the persons involved, has in this case served to silence the major superior and prevent him from defending his own good name. In the light of this real-life situation, one may ask: In religious life, should con-fidentiality serve all the members of a congregation except supe-riors? Should superiors be the victims of confidentiality? Are there circumstances when the superiors would not be bound to confi-dentiality? In religious life, should confidentiality serve all the members of a congregation except superiors ? May-ffune 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality What Is Confidentiality? The term confi'dentiality normally has to do with keeping secrets. Something becomes confidential when a private matter is imparted in secret with the trust that it will not be revealed to anyone else.l According to the moral philosopher Sissela Bok, confidentiality refers to the I~oundaries surrounding shared secrets and to the process, of guarding these boundaries. While confi-dentiality protects much that is not in fact secret, personal secrets lie at its core.2 In confidentiality, then, what is at stake is the fidelity, keeping faith with those who have confided their secrets on condition that they not be revealed) Understood in this sense, confidentiality covers a wide range of ordinary day-to-day human dealings, in which two parties or more are bound, at least by tacit agreement, not to reveal what has been confided. Some promi-nent examples have to do with what is called professional secrecy. In his classic work written more than fifty years ago, Robert Regan defined it as follows: The term professional secrecy denotes a specific moral duty inherent in certain offices or functions of a confidential nature exercised in society. It connotes in its simplest form a relationship between one person constituted in some sort of need and another person expert and skilled in caring for such needs and with official or quasi-official authorization to do so. Professional secrecy may be defined as a special moral obligation, binding in both commutative and legal justice, incumbent upon the members of certain confidential pro-fessions, of maintaining a discreet silence with reference to the confidential communications received by them in the course of duty.4 The professional secret, then, springs from the contractual nature of the relationship between the professional and the client. Doctors, lawyers, and priests are traditionally expected to main-tain confidentiality; they are expected not to reveal to third parties the confidential information they receive in their professional capacity from their clients. The well-known Hippocratic oath of doctors and the confessional seal of Catholic priests indicate that such confidentiality has had a long history with regard to some professions. It would be a mistake, however, to believe that pro~ fessional secrecy is expected only from those professions. Many others members of society--such as counselors, government min-isters, bankers, and accountants--are expected to honor this obli-gation of secrecy, though they may not be bound by any official Review for Religious oath or law. Religious superiors would fall into this latter category, and so, in the rest of this essay, one may see religious superiors as "professionals" and members of religious congregations as "clients." On the one hand, the duty of confidentiality enables the pro-fessionals to gain more information in order to offer help to their clients, and, on the other hand, it enables the clients to open them-selves more freely to the professionals in order to receive the help they need. Patients often share with their physicians information so private that they would not consider sharing it even with their closest friends and relatives. Such information is obviously essen-tial for correct diagnosis and appropriate therapy. Confidentiality, professional secrecy, enables patients to reveal such information to physicians. Thus, professional secrecy, while strengthening the professionals' claim to their professional status, is first and fore-most for their clients' benefit.5 Take, for example, a battered wife who has shot her husband in self-defense.6 She might deny that she has shot him at all because, not knowing that killing in self-defense is lawful, she falsely believes herself guilty of murder. In order to give her a fair trial, it is extremely important for her lawyer to get all the relevant information that led to the .shooting so that he can build a case of self-defense in her favor. But, to reveal such information, the client normally needs at least tacit assurance of confidentiality from the lawyer. It is exactly this tacit assurance of confidentiality that professional secrecy normally gives to clients seeking professional assistance. Note here that under normal circumstances, if what has been confided is revealed, the one who confided will again be victimized. The whole purpose of confidentiality is to protect such victims. What we are dealing with in this essay, however, is the peculiar case of confidentiality making a victim of the professional when the one who confided the private information takes undue advantage of the silence that confidentiality demands of the professional. In the relationship we are considering in this essay, namely, that between superiors and members, the "victims" (or clients, mem-bers, receivers of authorized "professional" leadership) become the assailants, using loose talk, letter writing, and other weapons of calumny or slander to attack the professionals. Although reli-gious superiors may have sufficient information at their disposal to defend themselves, they are bound by the obligation of confiden-tiality and thus become victims--as in the real-life illustration we sketched above. May-ffune 2001 L-249-:--- --- 2-5.0A Tirimanna ." Confidentiality May the Confidentiality Assured by the Professional Secrecy Ever Be Violated? From the discussion we have had so far, it should be clear that the obligation to keep professional secrets is mainly justifiable on the grouhds that it assures clients a clear guarantee that the infor-mation confided in professional secrecy would never be revealed and that such a guarantee evokes a sense of trust and credibility in the clients so that they feel free to share information that would help them in seeking professional assistance. Leroy Wakers holds that the main moral justifications for professional confidentiality fall into just two main categories: The major moral justifications for confidentiality fall into two broad categories: consequentialist and nonconsequen-tialist . Consequendalists generally justify the social prac-tice of preserving confidentiality in certain contexts by. arguing that the efficient functioning of the physician-patient or lawyer-client relationship would be impeded without it. Nonconsequentialists (or deontologists) usually justify con-fid~ ndality by relating it either to the duty of promise-keep-ing, if an implied or explicit promise has been made, or to the duty to respect the autonomy of persons, who in this case would otherwise lose control over important information about themselves.7 Having thus very briefly examined the moral justifications of the obligation to keep the professional secrets, we now move on to whether there can ever be circumstances in which such an obli-gation ceases. In other words, are there circumstances that permit or even necessitate the revelation of a professional secret? Should a physician tell an HW-positive patient's spouse or lover about the illness so that he or she can avoid risky sexual behavior? Regan draws attention to a principle, which he attributes to ¯ theologians, that may be useful in questions of this kind: "The professional person is obliged to keep the client's secre~ as long as the client retains the right to his secret.''8 In using this guiding principle, the crucial question one has to raise whenever a doubt arises is: Has the client 'the right to keep this matter secret? If the client retains that right, then the professional person must keep the secret. However, if the client for one reason or another has for-feited his or her right to secrecy, then the professional person is not bound to secrecy "and normally must take advantage of the free-dom and reveal the secr,et.''9 According to Regan, the causes that will permit or necessitate the revelation of another's secret, includ- Review for Religious ing professional secrets, are generally reducible to three categories: the consent of the client, publication of the fact or knowledge of it from another source, and the necessity of preventing harm from befalling either the community or individuals2° In this essay, what interests us is the last category: What kinds of harm to the com-munity or individuals is it necessary to try to prevent? Regan lists four main ones: .the necessity of preventing harm from befalling the community; the necessity of preventing harm from befalling clients themselves; the necessity of preventing harm from befalling an innocent third party; and the neces-sity of preventing harm from befalling oneself (the professional person). Of these four cases, what is rel-evant directly to us in this essay is the fourth case, namely, preventing harm from befalling oneself---in our case, the religious superior himself or herself. Sissela Bok seems to agree with Regan's first thre~ cases listed above. For her, harm to clients themselves, harm to other specific individuals, and harm to unknown persons or groups of persons in society are the three main limits to the obligation of keeping professional secrecy.11 She says: The premises supporting confidentiality are strong, but they cannot support practices of secrecy--whether by individual clients, institutions, or professionals themselves--that under-mine and contradict the very respec.t for persons and for human bonds that confidentiality was meant to protect.12 It is clear that keeping a professional secret is obligatory almost always. This obligation, however, has limits. In other words, while there is a strict obligation to guard the confidentiality of clients, there are circumstances in which professional secrets may be revealed. Surely one such circumstance is the case .where the pro-fessionals (religious superiors) are unjustly victimized by their clients (members of their religious congregations). Within church life there are many areas in which confiden-tiality is called for. However, except in the case of the confessional seal, church discipline does not seem to have indicated the impor- Are there circumstances that permit or even necessitate the revelation of a professional secret ? May-ffune 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality tance of confidentiality by enunciating specific norms with clear-cut sanctions. In the case of the pontifical secret, for example, when people are consulted in connection with choosing a bishop, in the case of counselingi and in this essay's case about religious superiors, it is not sufficient merely to declare the Feed for con-fidentiality. Today it has become important to enunciate what such confidentiality means and why it is necessary, what its norms are, and what its sanctions and limits are. Or else, as we saw in this essay, some parties (in our case, the religious superiors) can unjustly become victims of this very much needed confidentiality. That the religious superiors are morally bound to respect confidential-ity with regard the members of their congregations is beyond dis-pute. The question I have highlighted is this: Do religious superiors have to maintain professional confidentiality absolutely, or are there circumstances when they have the moral "duty not to adhere to such confidentiality, particularly when it damages their good name? To me it seems there are occasions when they are not bound and that such occasions need to be recognized officially by the church in the form of clearly stipulated norms with appropri-ate. sanctions and limits attached to them. Such norms would surely enhance the common good of a given religious congregation whereas their continued absence is likely not only to cripple or paralyze religious superiors or animators, but also to negatively affect the work and welfare of the congregation as a whole. Notes ~ See Shaun McCarty ST, "Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction," Review for Religious 56, no. 4 (July-August 1997): 370. 2 Sissela Bok, Secrets: On the Ethics of Concealment and Revelation (New York: Vintage Books, 1989), p. 119. 3 Bok, Secrets, p. 156. 4 Robert E. Regan OSA, Professional Secrecy in the Light of Moral Principles: With an Application to Several Important Professions (Washington, D.C.: Augustinian Press, 1943), p. 47. s See Bok, Secrets, pp. 116, 122. 6 This example is taken from Alan Donagan, "Confidentiality in the Adversary System," in Ethical Issues in Professional Life, ed. Joan C. Callahan (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), p. 253. 7 Leroy Waiters, '.'Confidentiality," in A New Dictionary of Christian Ethics, ed. James E Childress and John Macquarrie (London: SMC Press), 1986), p. 112. 8 Regan, Professional Secrecy, p. 9~. Review for Religious 9' Regan, Professional Secrecy, pp. 97-98. 10 Regan, Professional Secrecy, p. 101. 1~ See Bok, Secrecy, pp. 124-131. ~2 Bok, Secrecy, p. 135. See also Karl H. Peshke, Christian Ethics: Moral Theology in the Light of Vatican H, rev. ed., Vol. 2 (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1992), pp. 379-380. Acceptance I know you well, my sins. Like an outworn glove creased and molded to my hand I know you. Fiber-woven we have grown together through the years, and I have come to know your intertwining even in the warp and woof of each shuttled day until you and I are indefinable. I know you wall, my friends, ¯ though not always was it so; and even now I do not wish too much accommodation. But life together holds some gratitude (albeit given grudgingly). Without you being who you are I would not be who I am. Marie LeClerc Laux SSND May-.~une 2001 LINDA HERNDON The Computer's Edge: Some Social and Ethical Concerns ComunmitpiUest etorsd ahya.v Ce obmecpoumteer sa amrea iunssetady t oin w mriotes tl erettleigrsio, utos kceoemp-track of community finances, to hold databases of information about community members and benefactors, to order library mate-rials, and to do some community business. The World Wide Web and email correspondence provide many helpful connections. Many religious have been involved in discussions about which type of computers to buy, what word-processing software to use, whether community members should all have the same type of computer and software, and other similar issues. Beyond these computer applications and issues, there are other computer matters that matter too, and our religious communities may be less alert to them. I suggest that, to begin with, we should be' talking seriously about some social and ethical issues in the computer world, such as equity of access, gender issues, privacy concerns, and the ways computer use can affect our relationships with others. On these issues I will make some remarks, raise some questions, and propose some possible practical responses, in the hope that religious communities will start similar discussions on these and other questions and find answers pertinent to their own situation. Although computers become less expensive with each passing year, they are not cheap. At present, in the first world, computers Linda Herndon OSB, of Mount St. Scholastica in Atchison, Kansas, writes from 409 N. Eau Claire Avenue, #I 10; Madison, Wisconsin 53705. Review for Religious are not necessities in the same way that telephones and cars are, but those of us who use computers regularly would find our work and our communication more difficult without them. Having com- ' puters available in our communities sets us apart from the poor. A recent study by the Fleet Boston Financial Foundation reports that in five northeastern cities fewer than half of the respondents with incomes under $40,000 a year have computers in their homes, and only 32 percent are connected to the Internet.t In 1999 a front-page article in USA Today said, "The Internet revolution is largely bypassing the poor, minorities, and those who live in rural communities and inner cities.''2 The article went on to say that Internet access was becoming both an economic and a civil-rights issue. More and more studies and articles report this. As regards the elderly, the article .said that only "15 percent of peo-ple 55 and over are on line." Although this number has surely increased by now, there is still reason for concern about older people's lack of computer knowledge and access, for with time more and more information is available only on line and not in traditional print formats. Lack of equal access to computers and the Internet, often referred to as the "Digital Divide," poses difficult questions with no simple answers, Are we in religious communities even aware that this situation exists and is a problem? How can we justify set-ting ourselves apart from significant portions of society by our possession and use of computer technology? Do we allow our employees Use of community computers? If we do, do we provide the training they need to use this often intimidating technology? Do we provide adequate computing facilities, including Internet access, for the schools and institutions that we sponsor? There are things we can do to alleviate this access problem. We can donate our older, but usable, comp~lters to community-action organizations that concern themselves with people who do not ordinarily have access to this technology. We can encourage businesses to do likewise. The Washington Post explored such possibilities in a 21 December 2000 article, "Who wants your old computer?" 3 Another way our rel!gious communities can assist organiza-tions that are working to overcome this problem of computer inac-cessibility is by sharing with them our skills in grant writing. We can become more informed about the inequity of access to both computers and the Internet, and we can stir others to address this May-June 2001 Herndon ¯ The Computer'sEdge major social and educational concern. Each .community needs to look at its charism, community resources, and ministries to decide how to address the "Digital Divide." Along with such physical access to computers and the Internet, is our community's Website accessible to all?4 Although court cases have determined that Websites do not need to meet the guide-lines set forth in the Americans with Disabilities Act,s it seems that, in ~he interest of hospitality, we will want our community Websit~ to be accessible to all who try to visit.6 Is our.Website accessible to the blind or to those who are limited to a text-only browser? Websites with the latest "bells and whistles," such as Javascript, multiple frames, sound, and even animation, may make a site inaccessible to those who are running older browsers, are visually impaired, or are accessing the site over a slow modem. As communities of women and men religious, we need to explore the type of image we wish to portray to those who visit us in cyberspace. These decisions will need to be conveyed to those who design and maintain our community Websites. Such deci-sions, if they include not having the latest innovations, may not be understood by our Website creator and may provide occasion for ongoing dialogue with and education of the Web-page designer, community decision makers, and the community as a whole. A study conducted by the American Association of University Women released in October 1998 showed that "technology is now the new 'boys' club' in our nation's public schools.''7 Their 2000 report, "Tech-Savvy: Educating Girls in the New Computer Age," found similar results.8 The current computer climate does not tend to attract girls. Girls dislike the violence present in many computer games and are looking for "high-skill, not high-kill." The entry position of girls into computi.ng is often the 2001 equiv-alent of typing and word processing. These observations, coupled with the steady decline 6f the number of women going into com-puter science and related areas for the past fifteen years, are cause for great concern. The potential contribution that women have to offer in the area of technology will be lost as long as these trends continue. The "gender gap" in technology use raises several questions for us to consider, especially those of us who are members of com-munities of women religious. Do we encourage members to con-sider technology as an important and significant area of study? Do we encourage the girls and women with whom we have con- Review for Religious tact to study computer science and other areas of technology? Do we offer women any training programs in computer skills? Do we sponsor for girls special classes or workshops in technology? These are a few ways that we can help society benefit from the gifts and skills of women in the area of technology. Is it possible for those of us with extra buildings and superfluous space to use some space for computer learning labs specially designed for girls and women? Do we help and support those who are look-ing for foundation, funds for projects that empower girls and women in the use and study of technology? In an attempt to reverse these trends, Anita Borg recently created the Institute for Women and Technology9 as a way to "increase the impact of women on technologyand to increase the positive impact of technology on the world's women.''1° Another group, Women in Technology International, seeks to empower women through technology.~1 If even a small fraction of our religious commu-nities would help support these or similar ini-tiatives where we are--elementary schools, secondary schools, universities, wherever--what a difference we could make for young girls and women. We can encourage and lobby manufacturers of computer games .to explore other, less-violent options. What a great gift this would be to today's youth and to future generations! Lack of privacy is becoming a major concern in our society. Databases containing social-security numbers, driver's license data, health information, banking and credit information, residence and real-estate information, political-party affiliation, and more are available to all kinds of individuals, agencies, and businesses what-ever their purpose. As making purchases on' the Internet by credit card becomes common practice, the need for secure channels grows. Not all transmission of sensitive and personal information is secure; and this poses significant danger to privacy. And there is the question of the privacy of email. Email is not protected by the laws that protect the privacy of mail delivered by the United States Postal Service. Some companies and busi-nesses regularly, and legally, screen the email of their employees. Email is not secure and can be viewed at any of the computers through which it passes' on the way to its destination. At every We can encourage and lobby manufacturers of computer games to explore other, less-violent options. Herndon ¯ The Computer's Edge. "stop" along its path, a copy of the email is.downloaded before it is sent on its way. Since backuPs of these intermediate computers are made regularly, copies of our email are stored for some days, weeks, or even months. Most people are not even aware that copies of their email exist at various unknovcn computer locations. Unauthorized access by others to an individual's email is not likely to occur, but the possibilities do exist. There are many complex questions in the area of privacy. Are we aware of the problem of the lack of privacy that massive databases and the Internet present? Are we aware of what we can do to increase our own and others' personal privacy? Are we advo-cates for email privacy, .especially in the workplace? Do we educate ourselves and our community members about privacy and security concerns in the use of the Internet? Often new users of the Internet, especially older people, are not aware of the need for precaution. We can encourage our com-munity members not to give out unnecessary information about themselves, whether on the Internet, on questionnaires, or over the telephone. The more we can keep the various pieces of informa-tion about ourselves (such as name, address, phone number, social-security number) private, the harder it is for those using multiple databases to put together ~11 the pieces for a "picture" of us. Social-security numbers are probably the single best source of information about people.2 For convenience, many agencies and institutions use s0cial-security numbers for identification num-bers. Unless required by law (as in some financial matters), no one can require that your social-security number be used for your identification number. In Kansas, where I reside, people getting a driver's license may be asked for their social-security number for use on the driver's license, but they can request another number and it will be given. I suggest that, as women and men religious, we speak out against using social-security numbers for identifica-tion. Often people's phone number, date of birth, and so forth are routinely requested on warranty applications and the like. This information is usually not necessary and need not be given out to "strangers" for a database somewhere. After educating ourselves and our community members about these privacy matters, we will be better able to educate others as well. Does our use of the computer and the Internet affect the way we relate to others within and outside our religious community? A recent study found that "the nation's obsession with the Internet Review for Religious is causing many Americans to spend less time with friends and family" and that, the more time people spend on the Internet, the less time they will spend with real human beings.13 If members of religious communities are typical of the people studied, what ai-e the implications of flaese findings for us? There is no doubt that the Internet and email can be used to keep the membership informed and in touch with leadership and its decisions and also with others in the community. But do Internet browsing~ chat rooms, and email take members away from community time and from relating with others with whom they live? Is it safer to relate to another community member at a distance, even someone we have never met face to face, than to relate to our sisters or brothers close by? A related concern is addiction to computers. Compulsive behavior can be exhibited in game-playing, chat rooms, and surfing the Web. Do these things take religious away from their min-istry and their relating with others in normal ways? If so, there is a problem that needs to be dealt with. Seeking pornographic sites would, of course, be a problem in itself. There may be no way to legislate computer use, but religious communities can take some steps to prevent or alleviate various problems. If communal living is a priority, perhaps members should not ha~e "their own" computers. Of course, computers are pro-vided in offices, and also for ministries as needed or desirable, but these probably should not be in private rooms. Communities can have a "general access" computer or computers. Simply having them out in the open could help towards moderate use and a gen-eral sense of community. No doubt computers are here to stay. I have suggested look-ing at a number of social and ethical issues concerning computer use that'go beyond what computers to buy and which software programs are best. I believe that we women and men religious have something significant to offer in the area of computing tech-nology. It seems natural for us to become a voice regarding the social and ethical issues that computers and the Internet raise24 It will take time, much discussion, and a serious search to find answers for ourselves and our religious communities. If we com-mit ourselves to go beyond the obvious, we can bring about a Compulsive behavior can be exhibited in game-playing, chat rooms, and surfing the Web. May-June 2001 Herndon * Tbe Computer's Edge more humane and heal.thy world of computing for ourselves, our religious communities, and the wider world that our lives touch. Since these issues are multifaceted and I have just begun to scratch the surface of them, I have created a Website with links to online resources at: http://www.mountosb.org/social-issues.html. This Website contains links to issues that I have not addressed in this article. Among them are those related to health concerns (including repetitive-stress syndrome) and to environmental con-cerns (called "green computing"). These resources provide fur-ther educational information and can help you and your community develop your own way of handling various issues. This Web page will be updated with new information and links as they become known. I invite you to contribute to making this page a useful resource for all communities of women and men religious as they continue to face or raise issues of social and ethical concern in and around the world of computers. Notes ~ The report is summarized in "News, Resources, and Trends: An Online Newsletter from Syllabus Press," a listserv email of 17 January 2001. 2 D. Lieberman, "Internet gap widening. Study: Revolution bypass-ing poor, minorities," USA Today (9-I 1 July 1999), p. 1. 3 Available at: http://washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A37762 -2000Dec21 .html 4 "Towards Equal Web Access for All," by Jim Isaak (14 January 2001): http://www.computer.org/itpro/Nov_Dec.htm s "Does the ADA Apply to the Web?" by Michael Mason (25 September 2000): http://www.wtonline.com/vol 15_nol 3/federal/1815 - 1 .html 6 For complete guidelines see the Website for the Web Accessibility Initiative: http://www.w3.org/WAI 7j. Kornblum (14 October 1998), "Study: Tech gender gap widening," CNET News.Corn, available at: http://www.news.com/News/Item/0,4,27550,O0 .html?st.ne.ni.lh 8 "Why Girls Don't Compute," by Kendra Mayfield, Wired News (29 December 2000): http://www.wirEd.com/news/culture/0,1284, 35654,00.html 9 For more information see the Women in Technology home page at: http://www.iwt.org ~0 A. Borg (March 1999). "Expanding the Pipeline: Models for Innovation Bring Women to the Table." Computing Research News, p. 2. ~ The home page for Women in Technology International is: http://www.witi.com/index-c.shtml Review for Religious ¯ ,2 This site; "Some Freqtiently Asked Questions on SSNs," maintained by Computer Scientists for Social Responsibility, is an excellent source of more information: http://www.cpsr.org/cpsr/privacy/ssn/ssn.faq.html ,3 "Study indicates Internet use changes social patterns," by John Markoff (16 February 2000): http://wwwlkcstar.com/item/pages/home.pat,local /37743 d 15.216,.html 14 One order's attempt to deal with these questions is the report of the Benedictine Internet Commission, a group of Benedictine women and men from around the United States. Their final report, issued on 15 January 1998, is available at: http://www.osb.org/bic/report.html Only to This Don't try to look as though you had no problems. Who doesn't ? Don't try to act as though you had it all together. Who does ? Don't think that you cannot be defeated. You can be crushed. Only to this must you witness. That in your problems God is there. That in falling apart you are held together. That in being crushed you are already being raised up again. As the crushed grape yields fine wine, and the crushed olive yields rich oil, so does your body yield, and does its yield give life. Paul N. Duckro May-June 2001 ROBERT P. MALONEY Authenticity and Contact with Youth religious life I love this little verse from Isaiah:"Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear" (50:4-5). God is always try-ing to communicate with us. The Scriptures' powerful words and life's dramatic events seek contnually to rouse us from our distractedness, but often, as Isaiah laments, "hearing we do not hear." The whole New Testament, very mindful of Isaiah's words, is a trumpet call to conversion. The good news begins with a herald's cry in the desert: "Change your way of life. Prepare the way of the Lord." And when John the Baptist presents Jesus as the central figure on the New Testament stage, Jesus' message is simple and clear: "This is the time of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Reform your lives and believe in the good news!" (Mk 1:15). Religioiis, first in their baptism and later in their vocational option, commit themselves to the conversion process of which the gospels speak. But this call to be a new creation is continual. It comes at every stage in our development. It says: Change your way of life now. As Karl Rahner once wrote, "none of us can enter the king- Robert P. Maloney CM, superior gene~,al of the Congre-gation of the Mission, writes again from Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious dom of God as we are." To narrow down this broad topic drasti-cally, I describe in this article one way of constant conversion, that proposed by Vincent de Paul. I analyze it briefly in terms derived from Be/nard Lonergan and then draw a few practical conclusions. Hunger for Truth as Constant Conversion Vincent de Paul wrote to his friend Franqois du Coudray on 6 November 1634: "Simplicity is the virtue I love most" (SV I, 284).1 Almost twenty years later he said to the Daughters of Charity, "I call it my gospel" (SV Ix, 606). Just a year before he died, he told the members of the Congregation of the Mission that everyone loves those who are authentic, whose words match what is in their hearts and whose actions match their words (SV XII, 171). Vincent proposed this "way" to the many groups he founded. It is clearly the virtue he loved most. Today we give simplicity many names: genuineness, sincerity, transparency, integrity, authenticity, hunger or thirst or passion for the truth. I suggest that simplicity is a path of continual con-version. This conversion manifests itself in: ¯ listening for the truth, searching for it humbly as a wayfarer rather than thinking to possess it as an owner; ° speaking the truth (a difficult disci-pline, especially when one's own convenience is at stake or when the truth is embarrassing); ¯ witnessing to the truth, or the personal authenticity whereby one's life matches one's words; ¯ practicing the truth through works of justice and charity; ¯ striving for sin-gle- minded truth, or purity of ihtention; ° living truthfully as a servant of the poor, having modest possessions and sharing what one has; ° expressing the truth clearly, using attractive, transpar-ent language, especially in teaching or preaching. The Asceticism of Authenticity Simplicity or authenticity is impossible without asceticism. The path of simplicity requires a long-sustained exercis~ of atten-tiveness, understanding, reasonableness, and responsibility. Authenticity, in other words, rests on a positive response to what Bernard Lonergan calls "four transcendental precepts": (I) be attentive, (2) seek to understand, (3) be reasonable, (4) be respon-sible. Attentive people observe precisely what is going on. Understanding people search out the meaning of what they see May-June 2001 Malone2/ ¯ Authenticity and Contact with Youth Drifting is the contemporary form of lukewarmness, of being "neither cold nor hot." and hear. Reasonable people formulate possible changes for the better. And responsible people weigh in the balance their short-and long-term advantages and disadvantages, and then choose. On the path that lies between inauthenticity and authentic-ity, there are two great dangers. The first danger to authenticity is bias. All of us have individual biases. They are self-deceptions that we create to protect ourselves or make us feel ¯ more secure. Others often see them in us much more quickly than we do: prejudices, labeling of others as liberals or conservatives, comfortable but unexamined choices, unchangeable patterns of behavior. One of the commonest individual biases I know in com-munity life is intolerance of differing pastoral approaches. Group bias is more subtle. We do not eas-ily identify it, because we share it with those around us. But it is very dangerous. It gives rise to unjust laws, persecutions, wars, abuse of others because of their race, sex, ethnic ori-gin, or religion. In clerical circles there still are strong group prejudices against women. These are especially striking in many European countries, in Africa, and in Asia, but they are found almost everywhere. Common bias is the most difficult of all to discern. It exists not just in individuals and particular groups; just about everyone suf-fers from it. It comes from looking at life in ways that no one reflects about and almost no one perceives as quite unacceptable. For centuries most people, Chris6ans included, regarded slavery as licit. Most of us live and die with common biases, without ever recognizing them. Prophetic voices attempt from time to time to shock us out of them. I am sorry that I cannot point out today's common biases, because, being afflicted with thgm, I am blind to them myself. But I am sure that someday people will shake their heads about us and our blithe assumptions, and ask, "How could they have thought that?" Whht are my biases? The second great danger is drifting. People who have entered the vowed life seldom deliberately choose to be inauthentic. In the contemporary world the great danger is that they might not deliberately choose anything at all. Drifting is the contemporary Review for Religious form of lukewarmness, of being "neither cold nor hot" (Rv 3:15). Drifters find themselves .incapable of moving resolutely toward authenticity. They skip across surfaces, never listening attentively, not searching out life's meaning, unalert for the right path or unwilling to choose it firmly. Do I drift? Levels of Conversion The quest for authenticity and the overcoming of our biases involves conversion on three levels. 1. Intellectual conversion. Staying aliveintellectually is crucial. I am not referring here to abstract, theoretical, high-flying intel-lectual voyages. No, I mean that we nourish our minds; that we read and reflect critically; that, when we ponder the word of God, we apply the four transcendental principles. Be attentive: hear what it is saying. Search out its meaning: understand it in the light of good commentators. Be reasonable: formulate what it may be asking of us. Be responsible: decide and act on the word. The focus of intellectual conversion is the true. 2. Moral conversion. The key to moral conversion is a change in the criterion for our choices, from personal satisfaction to val-ues. It is crucial in life that we decide what our key values are-- something drifters never do--and that we make them the basis of our judgments. The focus of moral conversion is the good. 3. Religious conversion. In religious conversion we are grasped by an ultimate concern. We surrender ourselves to God. Genuine religious conversion is pure grace. It is,not that we grasp God; God grasps us. The focus of i-eligious conversion is the holy. In each of these stages, we make choices and tfltimately our choices make us. We become what we choose. When we choose the true, we become true. When we choose the good, we become good. When we choose to allow the holy to possess us, we become holy. Am I in the process of being intellectually, morally, and reli-giously converted? Toward Being a New Creation Sixty-four percent of the world's population is under twenty-five years of age. These young people are the hope of the future. They are the future. Authenticity is immensely attractive to them. 2Ylay-June 2001 ¯ " Maloney ¯ Authenticity and Contact with Youth They yearn for the truth, hungering for it and rejecting what they consider its bogus forms. Let me suggest some specific ways in Which religious as indi-viduals and as communities can become more authentic. I am convinced that these will be of immense help in our efforts to reach out to the young. These are my dreams for all of us: ¯ My dream: that we become families that pray mightily and beautifully. I start with an aspe.ct of religious conversion. Do people say of our communities, "They really know how to pray"? People surely know many religious communities for their works. When posing this question to the Vincentian family, I put it this way: "The name Vincent de Paul is synonymous with works of practical charity. But do people also see us as a group that is deeply committed to prayer? Do the young people who come among us feel attracted by experiencing how we pray? Vincent himself was an extraordinary pray-er. His contemporaries readily recognized him as a contem-plative in action. He placed great emphasis on mentai prayer, on attuning ourselves to the rhythm of the church's liturgical life, and on celebrating it beautifully." My hope is that religious can support one another in medi-tating daily and fruitfully and that their common liturgical prayer will be "something beautiful for God" and attractive to the young. Do young people feel at home praying with us? Does our prayer ring true to them? ¯ My dream: that we create formation programs for the young. I hope that we can be masters and guides in the spiritual jour-ney. It is most important that we ourselves be rooted authenti-cally and experientially in the mystery of God's love if we wish to help young people share deeply in that same mystery. The mis-sion of the church is, after all, to announce this mystery joyfully. Formation is crucial for helping young people know and feel the good news that God is alive, that he lives within us, that he wbrks among us, and that he has a special love for the poor. Good formation demands hard work, creativity, the preparation of attrac-tive materials, and the dissemination of these materials far and wide to thousands and millions of young people who hunger for the truth. In the schools, parishes, and social centers where many reli-gious serve, have we created effective formation programs for Re~iew for Religqous young people? Have we developed a pedagogy of the experience of God? Can we communicate to the young our passion for truth and accompany them in their longing to be true? ¯ My dream: that we form youth groups and offer young people the opportunity to join in the service of the poor. ¯ Is there any sector of society that Pope John Paul II has focused on more clearly than youth? Today everyone talks about the new millennium. Young people are the third millennium. It belongs to them. If the Church is to be fully alive in this millennium, it will be because it is energized by young people who believe deeply. The young are the future evangelizers of the world and servants of the poor. Most religious active today will scarcely cross the threshold of the third millennium. If statistics hold true, I will not survive its sec-ond decade. But today's young people will be alive and full of energy long after that. And so I suggest that there is no apostolic goal more important for the church today than to reach. out to young people and offer them a strong Christian formation. We have a wonderful gift to offer them. We must bring it to them joyfully and generously. The presence of two million young peo-ple at World Youth Day in Rome last August was striking. Are we actively engaged in form-ing youth groups? Is the truth of our religious charism so important to us that we are eager to share it with them? ¯ My dream: that we offer the young the opportunity to serve in other countries. We live in the global community. Today events everywhere in the world affect us quickly. If the yen is weak, the New York stock market dives. If there is violent trouble in Central America, the number of undocumented people in Los Angeles increases. I urge religious to help young people to see the .plight of the poor throughout the world. Almost four centuries ago, when it was alto-gether common for young and old to die within five miles of their birthplace, Vincent de Paul established lay groups and two inter-national communities of priests, brothers, and sisters that spread quickly from France to Poland, Italy, Alge.ria, Madagascar, Ireland, Scotland, the Hebrides, and the Orkneys. There is no apostolic goal more important for the church today than to reach out to young people and offer them a strong Christian formation. May-June 2001 Maloney * Authenticity and Contact with Youth Do we offer young people the opportunity for commitments of two, three, four, five years in foreign missions? Do we encour-age them to be true to their inner desires in palpable ways, to be free to extend themselves, to take risks, to make temporary com-mitments and even permanent ones? Does the truth of our mis-sionary vocation so burn in our hearts that it carries over to others, brightening, w.arming, building a fire in them as well? In the mid 19th century, Henry David Thoreau went off into the woods and lived fo~: two yea~s more or less as a hermit a~ Walden Pond. It was a time of conversion for him, an intense period in which he sought meaning in his life. One day last sum-mer I visited Walden Pond, walked around its perimeter, and took a swim. In the evening I picked up Thoreau's famous book and read the words that he wrote when he returned to society after two years of searching: I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a suc-cess unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will pass aia invisible boundary; . . . and he will live with the liberty of a higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. How can we help young people dream dreams of the king-dom of God and build the foundations that will make those dreams come true? How can we communicate to greater numbers Of them a passion for the truth, a passion for the person of Jesus, a pas-sion for justice, a passion for the poor? Passion in its root sense includes suffering--can we help young people to be willing even to suffer for the truth they believe in? Note 1 SV refers to the fourteen-volume French edition of St. Vincent de Paul's works, edited by Pierre Coste (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925). Review for Religious KATHY DUNNE Obedience: Vow and Virtue in Our Contemporary World Ibt was a breezy, hot summer day in 1958. I was sitting on the ack steps of our suburban Long Island home with my friend Linda. We were both about six or seven years old. My morn had just made cupcakes, but told us we could not have any until after ¯ dinner that evening. Linda and I were discussing the merits of "snitching" a cupcake when my mom was not looking. I held that it would be stealing because they did not belong to us. Since this would be a mortal sin in our° theological framework, I did not think this was such a good idea. I did not want to die that night and go to hell! Linda, more practical-minded, said she thought it would only be a sin of disobedience since my mom said we could not have one until later. That would only be a venial sin! Since my mom stayed in the kitchen, we did not have a chance to take the cupcake. As I reflect on that event, I see that our notion of obedience was rudimentary. We lacked maturity, of. course, and our moral framework was that of young children. After many years of growth in discipleship and in my religious vocation, I found myself with a deeper understanding of the vow of obedience. Obedience means more than acquiescing to external authority; it is a more mature, discerning stance that includes inner authority within the context of community, the church, and the world. Kathy Dunne RC is a spiritual director and works with her commu-nity's affiliates. She wrote "The Still Point" for our issue of January- February 1999. Her address is Cenacle Retreat House; P.O. Box 8115; Metairie, Louisiafia 70011. May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue This article looks at obedience as an evangelical counsel, lived as vow andvirtue. It approaches obedience from three perspec-tives: the scriptural, especially as seen in Jesus' relationship with the One he called Abba; that of religious life today; and that of con-temporary spirituality, that is, living the Spirit of the Gospels in one's life. Obedience, which comes from the Latin audire, means to lis-ten or to hear. In The New Catholic Dictionary of Spirituality, obe-dience is defined as "receiv!ng and responding appropriately to a message--or Word--from God.''l Jesus Christ, in his fidelity to his Abba (his Father), is the model par excellence of this obedience. Jesus lived in a deep relationship with his Father, modeling for us what intimacy means. Jesus' life of deep prayer, listening, and response to his Abba lies at the heart of obedience. The Scriptures tell us that by his obedience Christ was able to "reconcile all things to himself." In a world fractured by sin and division, Jesus shows us how to be at one with God, with each other, and with the whole cosmos. We are called to obedience in the deepest recesses of our being. We are invited back to primal unity and original innocence. By reconciling all things and all people in Christ Jesus, God invites us back to what life was like before original sin. This original unity models love, inclusivity, respect, reverence, mutuality, and care of the ea~'th and all living things. It is nonabusive and "does not rejoice in the wrong but rejoices in the truth" (1 Co 13:6); there "is ntither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free person, male nor female, for all are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). Original Sin Original sin, the sin of fundamental disobedience, echoes Lucifer's "I will not serve." It prevents us from accepting and liv-ing the truth of who we are given to be. It blinds us from seeing with the eyes of Christ. Unable to see clearly, we live in a fog or mist of confusion, contradiction, and rationalization. We are often unaware of the needs of those around us. We justify our thoughts, attitudes, and behavior in the name of expediency. We participate, often without realizing it, in the escalating violence and destruc-tion that affect all persons and all creation. We do this by our presence and by our silence. This happens in personal and in struc-tural acts of sin. By our acts of commission and omission, we are Review for Religious involved both in petty acts of selfishness and in the much larger realms of evil, including prejudice, racism, and sexism. We are called, as Christians and particularly as religious, to stand against this fundamental disobedience. We are called to be in harmony and in relationship with all of creation, with one another, and with Christ in God. Obedience is not easy, nor is it an escape from discerning what God asks of us each day. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, "There is no cheap grace." Neither is there cheap obedience. Obedience does not give license to opt out of personal or communal responsibility. Rather, obedience is being in fundamental relationship with Jesus Christ as he was with his Father. For many of us that relationship is also mediated through the church and the profession of religious vows. But, primarily and before any type of mediated relationship, we are called to be disciples. Discipleship is the call to be learners, to stand before God with, in, and through Jesus Christ as persons who desire to do God's will and beg for the grace of actually doing it in all the circumstances of life. Obedience is being in fundamental relationship with Jesus Christ as he was with his Father. Seeking the Will of God There are various ways of seeing the will of God. Some see it to be preset or preplanned, a blueprint thatlone just has to dis-cover in order to be obedient. Others consider it as unfolding in the events of daily life. Some experience God's will as some com-bination of the two. Perhaps another way to see its essential nature is to look at Jesus and his relationship with the One he called Abba. John's Gospel in particular stresses this relationship: "I always do what pleases him"; "I have come not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me"; "I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (John 6 and 14:10). Jesus' obedience hinges on this relationship with his Abba. It is not a driven or mechanical relationship. It is a matter of love and deep passion that God's dream for our world will come to fruition. This type of union flourished with Adam and Eve, as God walked in the garden with them in the cool of the evening. When Adam May-ffune 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue and Eve ate of the fruit of the tree of good and evil, their eyes were opened. They lost their primal innocence. The Evil One said they would become like gods. Instead, they lost their innocence and were removed from the gard.en (Gn 3:1-19). Jesus, in the words of the Easter Proclamation, "restores lost innocence." The innocence and candor of little children are often spoken of as a kind of na'ivet~. As we experience more of life, we lose that innocence and na~'vetd. Disillusion and disappointment contribute to this loss. As we grow in the spiritual life, studying and reflecting on experience, we may come to what Paul Ricoeur calls 'the second na~'vetd, a kind of innocence that is far from na~'ve. Jesus grew in "wisdom and age and grace"; he taught us by his living, his dying, and his rising what obedient living and loving are about. He models for us the innocence that can be restored in us by obe-dience, by being in relationship with God, from whom all things come and to whom all things return.2 Christ's obedience was part of his relationship of love with his Abba. Deep love of God includes deep interior freedom. Such freedom is not a license to follow our inclinations and impulses into unregulated attitudes and behaviors. Rather, such interior freedom seeks to discover what God is asking in each situation or event of our life. There is no plan that anticipates exactly what to do in any eventuality, but there are general guidelines. The teach-ing of the church, refined by centuries of gospel living and of seek-ing and finding what works best as circumstances change, provides a major guideline. The Scriptures provide another. Individual con-science, our culture, and the mores of our country and society also provide guidance. But none of these is enough by itself. The way God leads us within and sometimes beyond these guidelines must be discerned. Some people are ~alled to be prophets and to challenge the status quo. Some, called to be prophets of justice, challenge church " and society teachings on the roles of women, of minorities, of the poor and dispossessed of our world. Others are contemplatives and mystics, women and men who remind us that, without deep and sustained prayer born of a desire to respond to a loving.God, all our work is for nothing. All must listen to the "still small voice" (1 K 19:12) within in order to be obedient to the call which God gives each of us for building up the reign of God. Paul tells us that there is one Spirit but many gifts for the building up of the kingdom. Some are called to be teachers, some Review for Religious prophets, some administrators; some to speak in tongues and some to interpret the tongues (1 Co 12:4-10). Paul tells us that now we know in part and see in part, but then we shall see face to face. He tells us that all other gifts will disappear, that prophecies will be no more, but that faith, hope, and love remain and that the greatest of these is love (1 Co 13:8-13). Call to Love This call to love, to a growing union and familiarity with God and the things of God, is central to the vow and virtue of obedi-ence. Obedience does not mean going "against the grain" in a mechanical way. Rather, it is a delicate dance in which our choices--our ways of being, thinking, and doing--are gradually transformed. We are gentled, so to speak, discovering the strength that comes from God and not from self. Disciples move from exte-rior conformity to inner listening, listening for what Jesus, the Beloved, would have us do. The hours of prayer that we spend overflow into our life, and the events of our life also lead us to God. We become familiar with God's heart and desire God's mercy and justice for all people everywhere and always. Our heart expands to embrace all and thus grows in compassion. The vow can become virtue. Our growing interior freedom lets go of all that is not God, desiring only God and that which God desires. As disciples we let go of compulsions and addictions, sometimes with the help of support groups, ther-apy, spiritual direction, and study, but always with prayer. Over many years we let go of habits, even preferences for doing things a certain way. Fundamental desires are transformed. We now desire the truth and integrity of heart that come from the interior action of the Holy Spirit. We become obedient out of a growing desire to mirror God's trinitarian love in our life. How do we get to where God's nature becomes ours, where it is second nature for us to make decisions--and actually to live-- as God dreams for us? First, baptism gives us the basic operating system of the Christian life. Through years of praying and study-ing the Scriptures, we come to know Jesus Christ ever more deeply. The church's teaching in all areas, particularly justice and mercy, guides our learning and our praying. We grow in our willingness to be open to all of that teaching--and not just what is convenient or feels good. May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue In addition, we learn as religious the Rule and constitutions of our particular institute. We move from the externals of the vow of obedience to an inner disposition. We begin to find our own way within the congregation and the church. Our particular talents and learned skills come to light and eventually to fruition. We ¯ learn to use these gifts generously and, when we can, to encourage others to grow in discipleship. Over time the vow gradually becomes virtue. No one can map this out for another in exact detail. What a guide can do is listen with us for the signs of how God is at work and suggest ways to cooperate more fully with God. As we let go of less-than-produc-tive ways of being and doing, we gradually find that, much as Jesus did, we grow in age, grace, and wisdom. Ingrained habits give way to the desires and habits of God. We come to desire love, the unity of all persons and all things in God. As disciples we find ourselves fulfilling our living and loving desires in the concrete actions of daily life~ We find that we must live the gospel radically if we are to be faithful. All that life asks must be integrated in an incarna-tional way with the demands and challenges of the gospel, or we live in vain. Living Obediently How do disciples live this challenge? We pray and we act. We act and we pray. There is really no other way. We do not live iso-lated on our own island. A survival-of-the-fittest mentality does not rule our life. Rather, we cooperate with each day's graces and meet each day's challenges. A living obedience to the demands made each day and a willingness to embrace all that life asks call us to greater fidelity. Just as Jesus' love and mission were not only for the Jewish people of 1 st-century Palestine,' the call to obedience is not limited to "my family, . my community," and "my country." As Jesus' mission was for all people and for all time, so obedience embraces all and thus becomes universal. We are called to be compa?sionate with all people who suf-fer, who are poor, excluded, and marginalized. This demands a range of vision impossible without profound grace. We are so con-ditioned to "get ours" or do things our own way that it takes the wide-angle lens of the gospel and of the church's social teaching, accompanied by much prayer and meditation on these documents, to move beyond our myopic viewpoint. We are called by obedience Review for Religious to embrace all and to include all, not just in an intellectual way but in our loving, our praying, and our acting. We have to think globally even as we act locally. The way we do this is unique to each of us and must be dis-cerned. But act we must, or our religion is in vain. But our activ-ity must not be a mere "clanging cymbal" (1 Co 13:1). We must be, like John the Baptist, "a voice crying in the wilderness" (Mt 3:3) or, like Paul, one who proclaims the gospel "in season and out of sea-son" (2 Tm 4:2). We will not be popular, and we may indeed be martyred--if not by stoning or crucifixion, at least by rejection and hurtful words. Nonetheless, we are called to be like Jesus Christ, who "was crucified for our sakes" (1 Co 15:3). If Jesus Christ suffered and died for what he believed and proclaimed, so shall we. We are like the one we Wofess to follow. Obedient love demands such life and response from us. We know that death is not the end of the story. Jesus was raised to new life. We too will rise, not only on the last day, but each time we die to ourselves and surrender ourselves to our good God. The Scriptures tell us that God will not be outdone in gen-erosity. A generous and obedient heart leads us deeper into God's own heart and calls us forth to minister and to love as Jesus did. As we continue .to die to ourselves each day, we are raised up. As we grow in the vow and virtue of obedience, we see our wdrld with God's eyes and with God's heart. But, because we are human beings and not God, we act accordingly. We make mis-takes. We learn, however, to forgive others and ourselves because God has first forgiven us. We forgive and are gentle because that is the very nature of love and the heart of obedience. Able to laugh at ourselves, we do not take ourselves too seriously. This is, after all, God's world and God's creation. The Potter asks only for our cooperation, that we let go of control. Like Jesus, we are in rela-tionship with our Abba/Amma, our Father/Mother God. We are in an interdependent relationship with God, sharing mutually the fruit of otir love and our labor:3 God is as dependent on us as we are on God in this relationship. As we grow in the ways of God, we become ever more fully ourselves. We rejoice because we are one with the God we love and with all whom God loves. Through the vow and the virtue, we are obedient in heart and spirit. We rejoice in the truth. We live simply and we live radically because we live with Christ, through him and for him who is before all else that is. We are his, and he May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtu~ is ours. We are in relationship and in love. We are obedient. Notes L Richard M. Fragomeni, "Obedience," The New Catholic Dktionary of Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 709. 2 See St: Boflaventure, "Contemplating the Divine Unity through Its Primary Name Which Is Being," in Bonaventure: The Soul's Journey into God, The Tree of Life, The Life of St. Francis, trans. Ewert Cousins, Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), pp. 94-101. 3 See David Fleming SJ, Draw Me into Your Friendship: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading of the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), "Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," §§230-234. Suggested Readings Foley, John B., SJ. "Stepping into the River: Reflections on the Vows." Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 26, no. 4 (September 1994). Langan, John P., sJ, "The Good of Obedience in a Culture of Autonomy," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 32, no. 1 (January 2000). Rolheiser, Ronald, OMI. Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality. New York: Doubleday, 1999. Schneiders, Sandra, IHM. New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1986. --. Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000. Wittberg, Patricia, SC. "Community and Obedience: Musings on Two Ambiguities." Review for Religious 59, no. 5 (September-October 2000): 526-536. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Complete text of A Spirituality for ContemPorary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Muetler s J, Walter Burghardt S J, David Fleming s J, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino S J, Elizabeth Johnson CSJ, and John W. Padberg sJ ° ¯ An ARCHIVES section containing indices, abstracts, and summaries of our iournal articles from January-Februau 1995 to the current issue VISIT US AT: http://www.reviewforreligious.org Review for Religious WILLIAM C." ZEHRINGER Mechthild of Magdeburg's Spiritual Pilgrimage '~md where is this inaccessible light, or how can I approach the inaccessible light? Or who shall lead me and take me into it that I may see you in it?" So wrote St. Anselm in his Proslogion at the end of the 11th cen-tury. A lifelong searcher for that divine light was Mechthild of Magdeburg (ca. 1212-ca. 1282), one of the greatest women mystics of the Middle Ages. The ardu-ous and triumphantly successful spiritual pilgrimage of that remarkable woman is recorded in her enduring book, Das Fliessende Licht der Gottheit (The Flowing Light of the Godhead), the first mystical work to have been composed in the author's native language, and a book which "defies genre conventions.''~ So, it might be added, does her life in religion. Mechthild is unique among the female mystics of her time and place, both for the changes that took place in the form of her vocation throughout a long life and for the distances that she traveled before finding, at the last, her soul's rest. "My body," wrote Mechthild early in her Flowing Light, "is in great torment, my soul is in sublime bliss; for William C. Zehringer, a medievalist and free-lance author, received his doctorate from Temple University. His publi-cations include a college writing textbook; this article is adapted from a chapter of a book in progress. His address is 364 E. Second Street; Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania 17815. May-June 2001 heritages Zehringer * Mecbtbild's Spiritual Pilgrimage she has both gazed upon and embraced her Lover in her arms."2 These words summarize her turbulent life, for she long endured both ill health and afflictions from her adversaries, while also expe-rienci. ng deep consolations within her soul. As Emilie zum Brunn and Georgette Epiney-Burgard say, "The return of the soul to its original being in G6d--that is what motivates her desire."3 The revelations and sublime insights of The Flowing Light, which she worked on until the end of her life, won her, in her later years, a devoted following among the wisest of her contempo-raries. These included Meister Eckhart and the h01y nuns ofthe convent of Helfta.4.What.was the source of her appeal to these far-seeing men and women? Perhaps one may attribute it, and the hardy endurance of her single mystical.work through centuries of studied neglect, to the potent force of her convictions and the power of her expression in her'native language. Mechthild's book is remarkable in the way the clarity of her vision emerges from the diverse forms of expression she employs, from prayer to exhortation. Carol Lee Flinders has said, "The over-all coherence of the work derives not so much from formal qualities as from a consistency in preoccupation of the kind that knits together a collection of lyric poetry.''5 This all-consuming preoc-cupation is best told in her own impassioned words: "Then she soars further to a blissful place," and, "when infinite God brings the unfathomable soul to the heights, she loses sight of the earth in her astonishment and is not aware of ever having been on earth" (41).6 These and other startling paradoxes which the saint finds in her soul as she approaches the Sacred Presence are a proof of her lifelong (and ultimately successful) attempt to spiritualize her deep and abiding suffering. But they are also her wayof explaining the experiences which she took pains to have recorded, for the edifi-cation of her fellow Christians. The movifig story of her spiritual pilgrimage is above all a lesson in the way all searchers for.the Source of light and love must chart their courses. As Pierre Teilhard de Chardin so memorably wrote, "Union ir~creases only through an increase in consciousness, that is to say, in vision. And that, doubtless, is why the history of the living world can be sum-marized as the elaboration of ever more perfect eyes within a cos-mos in which there is always something more to be seen.''7 These words apply well to Mechthild's life. And a stirring picture of the price of such vision may be found in "The Lament of the Loving Soul" (Flowing Light, Book 2, ~hap. 25): "Oh, you infinite glory Review for Religious in the power of your nobility! How painfully I long for you when you want to spare me" (92). If one searched The Flowing Light for momentous earthly events, one would bE disappointed, but, read as a narrative of Mechthild's interior journey, the book describes vividly her cease-less hunger for heaven's heights,s It was often the depths of the human spirit that this sen-sitive soul traversed. Mechthild knew darkness and periods of dryness. Albert Camus, that pellu-cid and unresting agnostic searcher, has declared: ~"There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.''9 But passages such as the one quoted above also bear witness to another cause of Mechthild's suf-fering: the unjust criticism that was hurled at her by clerical authori.ty when she denounced the vices that flourished in the church of her time. As Michael Novak wisely observed, "the experiences whence language about God springs--freedom, honesty, community, and courage--abut on pol-itics. They will not be contained.''1° In Mechthild's life they were not contained, any more than they were in the lives of Hildegard of Bingen, Birgitta of Sweden, or Catherine of Siena. Here is her heartfelt summary of her interior and exterior afflictions (Book 3, chap. 5, "How the Soul Laments that It Cannot Hear Mass or the Daily Offices"): "Ah,' dear One, how intimately you speak to me. And yet I never dare think upon these words in joy. For I constantly notice with anguish the stench of that dead mongrel, my body; and I, Lord, when I consider the matter, have no idea how things shall turn out for me in the end. What is more, just beholding you I lose all awareness of suffering" (112). The words that I have italicized are as characteristic of Mechthild's spiritual life as are the laments that precede them. How could they not be? For all true mystics believe that an essen-tial task of souls who ha(,e answered the call to holiness is to show a sorely burdened humankind how to avoid the paths that lead to One would gravely misrepresent Mechthild of Magdeburg by dwelling only on the slanting shadows of her thought and ignoring the record of the supernatural joys she experienced. May-June 2001 Zebringer ¯ Mecbtbild's Spiritual Pilgrimage despair.~1 And they most surely accomplish this by relating their own ascent past slippery edge,s,tz One would gravely misrepresent Mechthild of Magdeburg by dwelling only on the slanting shadows of her thought and ignoring the record of the supernatural joys she experienced. There is more light than darkness to be found in The Flowing Light of the Godhead. Mechthild's active compassion and love for the suffering poor as a beguine in Magdeburg is al~other aspect of her spiritual voca-tion. She carried the interior joys of her heart to a world that needed them as surely as ours does. Father Odo Egres called her an angel of mercy who "gave love and consolation to those who in their misery looked for a ray of hope."'3 Her life, then, was not given ?ver completely to serene med-itation on the divine mysteries. The practice of prophetic speech that led to charges of heresy and hard missiles of condemnation was one to which she felt compelled by God's command. In Book 4, chapter 24, she calls her fellow pilgrims to carry out the duties of their state of life so that they find at the end that "God crowns three kinds of people with his fatherly hands: virgins, widows, and married people" (168). Not surwisingly, than, does Caroline Walker Bynum find that "Mechthild of Magdeburg sees herself as a teacher, counselor,'and mediator." 14 But there is another dimension to that part of her life when she lived as a mystic in the world. Mechthild is also a fine poet of the spiritual life and of mystical marriage with her Lord. Bea.uty and pictorial splendor are characteristics of her later work. Lucy Menzies, a 1953 editor of Mechthild's book, says, "Thehuman passion of the younger years gradually gives place to the mature spiritual poise of the late period, when like an eagle 'she soars up to gaze into the face of God.'''is That is a valid judgment, for the knowledge that she was advancing toward her lifelong goal, union with Divine Love and Truth, came steadily to the saint as she con-tinued to labor and pray. Perhaps that is why there is a joining, in her earlier visions, of what seem at first to be opposed ideas (as in the words quoted above: "Dear One, how intimately you speak to me. And yet I never dare think upoh these'words in joy"). These most likely represent, at one and the same time, Mechthild's unsettled response to the overpowering presence of her Savior, her consciousness of sin,.and her aching desire for bliss. Peter Dronke speaks perceptively of"Mechthild's anguished evo-cations of the 'fatal' quality of her love. For all its torments, she Review for Religious cannot help her longing--it is her destiny to sing of love through pain, like the nightingale." 16 And yet, in some of the later por-tions of The Flowing Light, there are harmonious images that sup-port an assured and serene conclusion. In Book 5, chapter 22, "The Seven Things of Judgment," Mechthild proclaims that "the greatest delight in doing comes from keeping one's integrity in all that one does" (196). A beautiful and unique feature of her book is the intense response of the Lord to her plaintive pleas for a surcease from suffering. Divine speech (as in Book 2, chapter 25) is expressed in ¯ cumulative phrases that pierce the heart: Your secret sighs shall reach me. Your heart's anguish can compel me. Your sweet pursuit shall so exhaust me That I shall yearn to cool myself In your limpid soul, To which I have b

Issue 59.5 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Cons~crat,eld Life SEPTEMBER O(~TOBER "~- 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 5 o to God's universal call,to holiness o by maki~i~ a~ailabie t~ them thespiritual legdcles ~ " tbat flow from tbe cbarisms_of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 Review for Religious " Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. MI copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to cop3~ing for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. iew religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger-OS.B Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Patricia Wittberg sC SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 5 contents catholic education 454 471 Ex Corde Ecclesiae: A History from Land O'Lakes to Now Martin R. Tripole SJ presents a brief history of Catholic higher education in the United States since Vatican Council II in order to give a context for the issues of contention in recent church documents. Theology Lived in Faith Stan Parmisano OP reflects on the all-pervasiveness of faith in our study o.f theology--a seeing or understanding all the way. 479 488 religious identity Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View Matthew Eggemeier presents some characteristics of his own generation and highlights the aspects of religious life which appeal to young people. Bride of Christ and Ecclesial Identity J. Sheila Galligan IHM proposes that a renewed understanding of the church as the bride of Christ offers support for a readily identifiable religious habit, specifically distinguished by a veil. 5OO a way of living Work in Such a Way Marie Beha OSC ponders the various ways of living out the Franciscan directive "Work in such a way as not to extinguish the spirit of prayer." Review for Religious 5O7 518 The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux Ernest E. Larkin OCarm explains the "specialness" of the life and writings of Th~r~se of Lisieux in presenting the gospel in a new light, with new insight, under the descriptive phrases "little way" or "little doctrine." The Power to Bless: The Sacramentality of Human Touch Carolyn Sur SSND encourages all women and men to participate more fully in their baptismal call to share in Christ's priesthood. 526 537 consecrated life Community and Obedience: Musings on Two Ambiguities Patricia Wittberg SC challenges the notion of reaching a balance point in community life where the needs of the group and the needs of the individual are met--all the while observing religious obedience. Our Past Mission's Unfinished Destiny: The Perspective of Vowed Commitment Philip Armstrong CSC finds a new relevancy in Metz's Poverty of Spirit for any community's pr.eparation for canonical chapters or assemblies. departments ¯ ¯ 452 Prisms 542 Canonical Counsel: Role of the Novice Director 547 Book Reviews September-October 2000 prisms Justice is a major theme of the jubilee year we are celebrating as we enter into this new mil-lennium. With so much evident injustice in our civil society, injustice paradoxically in our justice systems, and even apparent injustice in our divine and all-too-human church, we can appreciate a reexamination for ourselves about our response to God's call to walk justly. For justice is a tricky concept. We often identify jus-tice with a balance sheet. We hear "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" not as a statement of vengeance, but as our own words for our idea of justice. And Jesus clearly said that such an interpretation of justice has no connection with the way God sees life. Justice based on rights, justice based on equal balances, may approach a. good philosopher's or civil libertarian's idea of justice. But it is perhaps no more than the threshold of a Christian understanding of justice. To paraphrase a Hopkins-like expression, too often "justice injustices." When we struggle and fight for rights for the oppressed, who will be the new oppressed of our efforts? When we bully our way to see justice done, who will be trampled in the process? As we fight to provide life for some, what others are having to face a dying? Re!igious, in trying to fulfill a prophetic role in today's church, have made fresh claims on justice as their mission. But the question remains whether in their lUStlce efforts they have been more ~ften a stimulus for the increase of injustice. God's just.iFe, the gospel justice, is not a simple mat- ¯ ter of securing rights and seeking a balance of scales, as Review for Religious we see depicted in our classical justice statues. The justice that Jesus describes deals with a turning the other cheek, with a giving of my clo'ak, with a walking of an extra mile. Justice is more iden-tified with compassion, the compassion of a father who looks for his wayward child and rushes out to greet him and and welcome him home with a celebration. This understanding of justice finds a very narrow gateway into the human heart. We seem to be only at the .threshold of realizing that there is today no such thing as a just war--if ever there was such a possibility. With great difficulty we, especially in the United States, are slow in realizing that capital punishment is not an act of justice. It more represents vengeance and sullies even further and makes less human those who advocate its use. With an abundance of lawyers, our society has not become more just but rather more litigious. Absorbing this kind of culture, even we followers of Jesus quickly claim rights, less so responsibilities. We see justice with an individual eye; common good is no longer an horizon of vision, even religiously. Are not we Catholics, especially women and men religious, called to be agents of communion in such a culture? An agent of communion, making God's justice alive in the world, will come to understand why the cross is a paradoxical sign of justice. The cross remains the sign of human iustice--the result of a human court calling for the death of an innocent Jewish man. The cross remains God's symbol of justice--allowing arms to be strtetched wide to the left and to the right in an everlasting ges-ture of reconciliation. Working in Jesus' name, the agent of com-munion, the ambassador of reconciliation, will find the cross integral to living and promoting gospel justice. The call that we hear in this jubilee year, then, is not for the simple justice of all properties being restored to the original own-ers of fifty years ago. It is not a call to ~ justice of the balance sheet. The call to which we Christians are challenged to respond puts our feet into the footprints of Jesus. If we are to walk justly with our God, we need to be people who know how to talk earnestly with others along the way. We call it dialogue. We need to be people who can negotiate. We need to be people who seek reconciliation. We need to be a people who act like Christ. As agents of communion, we seek to live a gospel justice. David L. Fleming sJ September-October 2000 catholic education MARTIN R. TRIPOLE Ex Corde Ecclesiae: A History from Land O'Lakes to Now Ex corde ecdesiae (From the Heart of the Church), Pope John Paul II's apostolic constitution on Catholic universities, was released in Rome on 25 September 1990. That document and a subsequent one, "Ex Corde Ecdesiae: An Application to the United States" (hereafter "Application"), are generating much excitement in Catholic higher education in the United States tqday. Ex corde ecdesiae was long in the making. Data on its history is available, but not in a neat compendium. The purpose of this essay is (1) to provide a brief and manageable survey of its history, as well as of its com-panion document, "Ex Corde Ecdesiae: An Application to the United States"; (2) to explain the theological foun-dations for the understanding of what a Catholic uni-versity is, as contained in the two documents; and (3) to focus on the issues of contention and the implications of those issues as contained in the two documents. Martin R. Tripole SJ, associate professor of theology at St. Joseph's University, was coordinator of "Jesuit Education 21," a conference held in June 1999. He edited its volume of Proceedings, published in June 2000 by St. Joseph's University Press. He also edited Promise Renewed, 27 papers. on Jesuit higher education (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1999) and wrote Faith beyond Justice: Widening the Perspective (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1994). His address is St. Joseph's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Review for Religious History of Ex Corde Ecclesiae Ex corde ecclesiae may be understood as the latest event in a conflict that has been going on between the Catholic Church and modernity since Pius x's condemnation of Modernism in 1907.~ But here we begin with 1949, when Pius XlI, in collaboration with the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, called together the leaders of "pontifical" institutions, that is, institutions char-tered directly by the Holy See, to form an association that later came to be known as the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU). This federation became an independent asso-ciation in 1963 and, under the direction of the Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh CSC, president of the University of Notre Dame, was broadened to include most Catholic colleges and universities? From 1963 to 1990 there was a long series of conferences and disputes over what a Catholic university is and what its goals should be. Views were and are divided. Some give primacy to the Catholic institution and its educational goals as integral to the life of the church; others see Catholic universities primarily as an institution governed by the rules for good universities that operate in the sec-ular community. For the former group, the emphasis is on the Catholic university as Catholic, as an arm of the church carrying on its mission, which is to proclaim the gospel of truth to the world, harmonize the teachings of faith and reason, and promote the Christianizing of human life and the social order, For the latter group, the emphasis is on the Catholic university as university, as a center for study and research in competition with secular uni-versities for qualitative teaching and scholarly excellence. There will perhaps always be some tension between these two viewpoints, but in recent history (1967) a decisive radical move occurred in Catholic education, a move that I believe led to the creation of Ex corde ecclesiae and the great divide in Catholic education today. Let me provide a brief history. The search for a definition of a Catholic university gets under-way with a 1965 meeting oflFCU in Tokyo.3 This meeting appears to have been a response to the new theology of the church gener-ated by the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), especially the council's most original document, "The Church in the Modern World" (Gaudium et spes). It was only natural for Catholic educa-tion to rethink its role in the world in the light of Vatican II's emphasis both on the need to make the gospel relevant to modern life and on the importance of the laity in accomplishing this mis- Septe~nber-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae sion. And so the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education and IFCU "cooperated in sponsoring a series of regional meetings throughout the world on the nature of the modern Catholic uni-versity and its role in the church and world.''4 These regional meetings were held in Buga (Colombia), Manila, Paris, and, most important for Catholic education in America, a Wisconsin resort town known as Land O'Lakes, where the Holy Cross Fathers had a villa house, to which Father Hesburgh invited twenty-six men, leaders in American Catholic higher education, to come to formulate a statement on the role of Catholic universities in America. Twenty-one were priests or bishops, and two of the laymen were the chairmen of the boards of trustees of Saint Louis University and the University of Notre Dame (Gallin, p. 12). Church historian David J. O'Brien states, "As the church would be permanently changed by Vatican II, North America's Catholic universities would be forever changed by. the meeting and resultant statement that became known simply as 'Land O'Lakes.'''s Philip Gleason of Notre Dame asserts in his Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (p. 317) that the Land O'Lakes statement., took on a life of its own as a symbolic manifesto that marked the opening of a new era in American Catholic higher education . [It] was, indeed, a declaration of independence from the hierarchy and a symbolic turning point. It confirmed at the college and university level what John Cogley told Catholic educators the year before: the church's future path might remain unclear, but her "cold war with modernity" was definitely over. What makes Land O'Lakes so important? Let us note, first, three issues that have been explicit or implicit in higher-educa-tion statements ever since the Land O'Lakes statement: (1) insti-tutional autonomy, meaning no outside interference in the educational operations of universities; (2) academic freedom, mean-ing scholars are to be restricted only by the limitations of their own sciences; and (3) fidelity to the teachings of the church, that is, abiding by the authoritative teachings of the Catholic Church's magisterium. Land O'Lakes started a movement that put so much importance on the first two--institutional autonomy and academic freedom, both understood as demanding independence from church authority--that the church responded by making fidelity to Review for Religious the magisterium an essential characteristic of Catholic education. And so what did Land O'Lakes say? It asserted the primacy of the Catholic university as a university. In the brief document of about 1500 words (composed largely by Robert J. Henle SJ,6 who was then academic vice president of Saint Louis University and later was president of Georgetown University), the first paragraph is especially important: The Catholic university today must be a university in the full modern sense of the word, with a strong commitment to and concern for academic excellence. To perform its teaching and research functions effectively, the Catholic university must have a true autonomy and academic free-dom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or cler-ical, external to the academic community itself. To say this is simply to assert that institutional autonomy and aca-demic freedom are essential conditions of life and growth and indeed of survival for Catholic universities as for all universities.7 The document goes on to say that "every university, Catholic or not, serves as the critical reflective intelligence of its society" and that, "in keeping with this general function, the Catholic univer-sity., should carry on a continual examination of all aspects and all activities of the church and should objectively evaluate them" (Gallin, p. 9). This may have been more of a contribution from Catholic universities than the Vatican was interested in having. Representatives of the four regional meetings met in September 1968 at the Eighth Triennial Congress of IFCU in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo. The Kinshasa docu-ment, titled "The Catholic University in the Modern World," states, consistently with Vatican II, that a Catholic university draws its inspiration "from the light of revealed truth," making the university a "center for development and diffusion of an authentic Christian culture." There are no juridical aspects in the Kinshasa document: Catholic universities are only asked to accept voluntarily the '!Church's teaching authority" (Gallin, pp. 13-16, at 14-15). In May 1969 an international meeting of thirty elected dele-gates of Catholic universities met in Rome and drew up a document titled "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento." Both Henle and Hesburgh were present at this congress. It was here that the four essential characteristics of a Catholic university were September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae composed, which became a part of standard Catholic documenta-tion from then on, including Ex corde ecclesiae (Hellwig, p. 22): 1. A Christian inspiration not only of individuals but of the university community as such. 2. A continuing reflection in the light of the Catholic faith upon the growing treasury of human knowledge, to which it seeks to contribute by its own research. 3. Fidelity to the Christian message as it comes to us through the church. 4. An institutional commitment to the service of the peo-ple of God and of the human family in their pilgrimage to the transcendent goal which gives meaning to life. (Ex corde ecclesiae, Origins 20, no. 17 I4 October 1990]: 269) The 1969 document takes a very strong stand on the inde-pendence of the university. In line with the thinking of Land O'Lakes and the Kinshasa statements, the 1969 document reit-erates that a Catholic university "must have a true autonomy and academic freedom," but even more strongly it states that a Catholic university must be allowed to pursue the truth "without conditions." It asserts that "every limitation imposed on the uni-versity which would clash with this unconditioned attitude for pursuing truth would be intolerable and contrary to the very nature of the university." The only obligation the university has, according to the document, is "to the legitimate exigencies of the society which sustains it," meaning civil society. The document states that the magisterium "can intervene only in a situation where the truth of the revealed message is at stake," but even then it does not state how this intervention would occur, but only that university statutes must be observed. The theologian "is bound. ¯. to take into proper account the pronouncements of the church" and "must. present the authentic teaching of the church," but nothing is said about what would happen if he does not. The doc-ument explicitly states for the first time that. "any juridical inter-vention in university affairs must be excluded" (Gallin, pp. 17-35 at 17-20). This issue of a juridical relationship between the church and th( university becomes the major bone of contention in sub-sequent debate. The second international congress convened by the Sacred Congregation for CatholicEducation and IFCU and held in Rome in November 1972 apprdved a document titled "The Catholic Review ?or Religious University in the Modern World." Considerable attention is given in the document to "Relations with the Catholic Hierarchy." The document recognizes that there is a "delicate balance to be main-tained between the autonomy of a Catholic university and the responsibilities of the hierarchy." The document reiterates the 1969 position that "theologians must present the authentic doctrine of the church," but insists that they "be able to pursue their dis-cipline in the same manner as other research scholars." While the document.recognizes the right of the magisterium to pass judgment on the doctrinal integrity of a theologian's teaching, it nevertheless calls for "a kind of self-regulation of the Catholic academic community." Consistent with the 1969 document, the authors assert that there is to be no "juridical intervention, whether direct or indirect, in the institutional affairs of the university" (Gallin, pp. 37-57 at 53-56). When the plenary assembly of the Sacred Congregati'on for Catholic Education met in 1973, however, it found the 1972 document to need improvement. Here for the first time Rome begins to inter-vene. A letter of Cardinal Gabriel Garrone, prefect of the con-gregation; written to the university presidents, makes three points: (1) the statutes of Catholic universities musl~ declare their "com-mitment as 'Catholic'"; (2) "appropriate andefficacious instru-ments" of "self-regulation,' regarding faith and morality must be established; and (3) the universities must "in no way" consider themselves "removed" from their "relationships" with the hier-archy (Gallin, pp. 59-61 at 60). What exactly that means is unclear, but I think we can see here the beginnings of a backlash against the idea of pure self-regulation that began with Land O'Lakes in 1967. To understand these meetings of educators, we need two back-ground elements. First, throughout the 1970s, there was an increaso At the plenary assembly of the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education in 1973, we can see the beginnings of a backlash against the idea of pure self-regulation that began with Land O'Lakes in 1967. September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae ing movement toward incorporation of colleges and universities separate from the religious congregations that founded them. This, it was argued, was necessary to maintain the constitutional sepa-ration of church and state required to receive the federal and state funding necessary to survive. At the same time, the boards of trustees of these institutions became predominantly lay. This, it was argued, was in compliance with Vatican II's new theology of the laity and the need for the expertise and financial resources the laity could bring to Catholic education. Thus a new movement deliberately alienating Catholic universities from their relation-ship to the church and religious orders set in, and sometimes with-out any consultation with the church hierarchy. This caused the Vatican to wonder what was happening to American Catholic higher education, and to ask whether it still remained Catholic (Gallin, pp. 63-64). Second, in June 1975 the Vatican began to move forward on an apostolic constitution that appeared in 1979: Sapientia Christiana (Christian Wisdom). Its purpose was to regulate the life of "eccle-siastical faculties," sometimes called "pontifical" institutes. These are universities directly chartered or erected and approved by the Vatican (The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., is one of these). The juridical framework of this discussion was directed toward complying with the demands the new Code of Canon Law was to make upon "ecclesiastical" faculties. This doc-ument was being prepared to regulate these "ecclesiastical facul-ties," not Catholic universities. But the mere preparations for this document caused Catholic universities to fear, correctly, that some kind of juridical restructuring was also awaiting them (Gallin, pp. 63-64). When it became known with the first official draft of the new Code in 1978 that new juridical and canonical bonds were also to be established for Catholic universities, many American Catholic educators struggled to get those canons revised or dropped, but to no avail. The new Code appeared in 1983 with, in canon 812, the dreaded word mandatum used for the first timE. It reads: Those who teach theological disciplines in any institutes of higher education whatsoever must have a mandate (man-datum) from the competent ecclesiastical authority. The new canons did not cause much interest at Catholic institutions in America at first, for it was generally held that they would not be applicable in the United States, where juridical ties to the church Review for Religious did not exist and where a rigorous system of separation of church and state was constitutionally binding (Hellwig, pp. 25-28). But Rome saw otherwise. In 1980 the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education started working on a document for Catholic universities. After the new Code appeared, the document was adapted to fit the new canons 807-814 governing Catholic uni-versities. A working document, called "Draft Schema of a Pontifical Document on Catholic Universities," was composed in April 1985 and sent to all bishops and university presidents for review. A sec-ond draft was made in 1988, and a new review panel of presidents and bishops met with John Paul II and congregation officials in Rome in April 1989. This panel recommended that normative principles should be few and general in nature, and that they be adapted by regional bishops' conferences. The panel wanted no mention made of the juridical canons of the new canon law (Gallin, pp. 381-383 at 381-382). In August 1989 the congregation's draft-ing committee issued a third draft, taking into account the rec-ommendations that had been made. A further revision was presented to the October 1989 plenary session of the congregation and then to the pope. In September 1990 the apostolic constitu-tion on Catholic universities, Ex corde ecdesiae, was issued (Gallin, pp. 189-190; Hellwig, pp. 28-29). Many American presidents remained optimistic, even though the request for no mention of the new juridical canons of the Code was ignored. Still, they considered the constitution harmless enough if it was not applied to the American scene too stringently. The battle scene now changes. The document applying Ex corde ecclesiae to the United States was to be drawn up by American university presidents and the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. A committee of six bis'hops and eight presidents, chaired by Bishop John J. Leibrecht of Springfield-Cape Girardeau, Missouri, was formed. Its first draft, in 1993, met with so much dis-approval that it was promptly rejected as too juridical. Father Terry Toland, former president of St. Joseph's University, was enlisted, as director of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops' Committee to Review and Implement the Apostolic Constitution Ex Corde Ecdesiae, to compose a more acceptable draft. After exten-sive conversations with bishops and presidents all across the coun-try, he presented a new draft to the bishops' conference in November 1996; it passed 224 to 6. September- October 2000 Tripole * Ex Corde Ecdesiae By early summer 1997, what was sent to Rome and thought to be a final document was sent back as a "first draft" that was unacceptable without juridical ordinances. The document did not have any juridical elements and, instead, spoke of "trust between university and church authorities, close and consistent collaboration, and continuing dialogue" (Hellwig, pp. 34-35). A concession that Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua had received enabled the document to pass overwhelmingly. Canon 812, which contains the requirement that theologians get a man-date from the local bishop, had been completely removed from consideration even though it was in Ex corde ecclesiae. Now it was simply mentioned in footnote 7 as a point that "would be the sub-ject of further study" (Hellwig, pp. 35-36). By early summer 1997, what was sent to Rome and thought to be a final document was sent back as a "first draft" that was unacceptable without juridi-cal ordinances. The sacred congregation specifically asked that canon 812 be con-sidered no~v, along with the "requirement that presidents and theology teachers make the profession of faith and take the oath of fidelity that canon law requires of chui'ch officials" (Hellwig, p. 36). Back at the drawing board, Bishop Leibrecht appointed a sub-committee headed by Cardinal Bevilacqua and composed of canon lawyers. Their proposal, which restored juridical elements to the document, Was presented for discussion at the bishops' annual meeting in November 1998. It caused problems. Archbishop Rembert Weakland, of Milwaukee, proposed that the bishops reject the juridical app.roach and send once again the 1996 proposal that called only for trust, collaboration, and continuing dialogue. This was seconded by the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities (ACCU) in February 1999, but the idea never suc-ceeded. In April 1999 Monika Hellwig, representing ACCU, and Charles Currie SJ, former rector of the Jesuit community at St. Joseph's University and now head of the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities (AJCU), went to Rome to press their views with the Congregation for Catholic Education and, back in the United States, continued to lobby the bishops here. Review for Religious In June 1999 the American bishops met to review all the com-ments made on the third draft. The subcommittee met again in September to work on a fourth draft. This was presented at the annual fall meeting in Washington in November 1999. Again ACCU and AJCU lobbied strongly to get the bishops to reject.the docu-ment, which needed a two-thirds majority to pass, and they felt they might succeed. But this document applying Ex corde ecclesiae to the United States was overwhelmingly approved by a vote of 223-31 with one abstention. "Application" went to Rome for approval by the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, whose new head was Archbishop Giuseppe Pittau SJ, and by the Council for the Interpretation of Legal Documents. It was returned recently with approval and only minor modifications. On 1 June 2000 the American bishops indicated that "Application" will go into effect in this country on 3 May 2001, one year after it was approved by the Congregation for Bishops in Rome. Let us now discuss the theology operating in both Ex come ecclesiae and "An Application to the United States" and then discuss the issues of contention. Theological Justification for Ex Corde Ecclesiae The title of the apostolic constitution Ex corde ecdesiae (From the heart of the church) suggests the whole story. The document's position is that Catholic universities exist as an integral part of the life of the church. The document says, "Every Catholic uni-versity., has a relationship to the church that is essential to its institutional identity" (§27). As such, the Catholic university shares in the mission of the church and is governed, like any other Catholic entity, by the local bishop and through him by the mag-isterium of the universal church. Its specific mission as a univer-sity, says Ex corde ecclesia.e, is "a continuous quest for truth through its research, and the preservatign and communication of knowledge for the good of society" (§30), but this mission as a university can never be separated from its larger mission (shared by all members of the Christian community) to deepen the presence of Christ in the world (§16). One of the roles of the university, according to Ex corde eccle-siae, is to "promote dialogue between faith and reason" so that the world becomes ever more aware of the "unity of all truth" (§ 17). Accordingly, the university's quest for truth and the promotion of September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecdesiae the dignity of human persons can never be separated from the vision of Truth that comes through revelation and is made known by the church through the magisterium's teaching "in matters of faith and morals" (§27). The goal of Catholic universities is there-fore to be of service both to the church and to society. This it does as a university by being an "instrument of cultural progress for individuals as well as for society"; but as a Catholic university it must also serve the church in the "development of a true Christian anthropology founded on the person of Christ" (§§32-33). Most of the critics of Ex corde ecclesiae argue, ~s we have seen as early as the Land O'Lakes statement in 1967, that Catholic uni-versities must enjoy "a true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or clerical, external to the academic community itself" (Gallin, p. 7). As the document "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento" asserted in 1969 and as was repeatedly urged by many Catholic educators thereafter, the theologian "must be able to pursue his discipline in the same manner as other research scholars," and have his work evaluated only by his peers "as is the case in other disciplines" (Gallin, p. 20). Autonomy here is understood as freedom from restraints of any kind external to the discipline. The church's perspective is quite different. If the university is Catholic, the university's autonomy includes the church. Thus, whereas critics argue that the bishop's governance constitutes an external constraint upon the life of the university, Ex corde ecclesiae argues that, "even when they do not enter directly into the inter-nal governance of the university, bishops 'should be seen not as external agents but as participants in the life of the Catholic uni-versity'" (§28) because the university is part of the life of the church. "Ex Corde Ecclesiae: An Application to the United States" (1999) expresses an even richer and deeper theological foundation for the integration of the university into the life of the church. Based on the teaching of Vatican II, "Application" argues from an "ecclesi-ology of communion" that the "church is made up of individual faithful and communities linked with one another [and with the tri-une God] through many active ecclesial relationships." The "dynamic of communion," according to "Application," unites on a deeper level "the various communities in the church" through which her "mission of salvation" operates. "The Catholic univer-sity is [seen] as a vital institution in the communion of the church and [as] 'a primary and privileged place for a fruitful dialogue Review for Religious between the gospel and culture.'" This "richness of communion" brings out the "complementary teaching roles of bishops and Catholic universities." Each has its own "distinctive autonomous nature and goal," but in the unity of communion they "are joined as complementary activities," embracing both the pastoral work of bishops and the academic work of Catholic universities, thus linking the bishops' right and obligation to communicate and safeguard the integrity of church doctrine with the right and obligation of Catholic universities to investigate, analyze, and communicate all truth freely. Thus the Catholic university as such has a "twofold relationship"-- one to the "international community of knowledge," the other to the church--"of guaranteeing in institutional form a .Christian presence in the university world" (Part 1, II and III). Issues of Contention Now I mention some of the issues of contention that these two documents address: 1. Ex corde ecclesiae states under its General Norms that all Catholic universities must conform their governin.g statutes to the general norms listed in Ex corde ecclesiae and must submit these statutes "for approval to the competent ecclesiastical authority" (II, Art. 1, no. 3) This could be seen by some presidents as a major violation of the autonomy of the university and, if implemented, as a matter for litigation. 2. Ex corde ecclesiae states that university administrators are to be recruited who "are both willing and able to promote., or at least to respect" the "Catholic identity of the university" (II, Art. 4, nos. 1-2). "Application" goes even further, saying that "the uni-versity president should be a Catholic" (Part 2, Art. 4, 3a). But, since "Application" says '!should be" and not "must be," the imple-mentation will depend upon how rigorously the local bishops wish to enforce it. 3. The same applies to boards of trustees. According to Ex corde ecclesiae, the board members must be informed of their respon-sibility to promote or respect the Catholic identity; but in "Application" the norm says further: "To the extent possible, the majority of the board should be Catholics committed to the church" (Part 2, Art. 4, 2b). Note again that the norm, while being September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae more rigorous, demands implementation only "to the extent pos-sible," which leaves room for exceptions. The critical issue here, however, is how to determine whether a Catholic is "committed to the church." Though this phrase is not as vague as the original "faithful Catholic" requirement, it does not offer any precise way of measurement. 4. When the university president assumes office, according to "Application," the "Catholic should express his or her commit-ment to the university's Catholic identity and to the Catholic faith in accordance with canon 833, 7°'' (which states that the rector of a Catholic university, upon assuming that office, is "obliged per-sonally to make a profession of faith" to the local bishop or his delegate). If the president is not a Catholic, a "commitment to the university's Catholic mission and identity" is required (17 November 1999 "Application" [Origins 29, no. 25, 2 December 1999], Part 2, Art. 4, 3a, and endnote 36). These norms will seem unduly rigorous to many presidents and a violation of institutional autonomy. 5. "All professors are expected to be aware of and committed to the Catholic mission and identity of their institutions" ("Application," Part 2, Art. 4, 4a). This obviously will create fear among non-Catholic instructors, who will see this as a violation of academic freedom and a matter that could be used to deny tenure. 6. According to the "Application" of 1999, "the university should strive to recruit and appoint Catholics as professors so that, to the extent possible, those committed to the witness of the faith will constitute a majority of the faculty" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4a). Notice again the more rigorous norm, but with the qualifier "to the extent possible" and with the problem of how to measure commitment. On the one hand, the qualifier provides an opening--it does not have to be enforced; on the other hand, the requirement for com-mitment leaves open the possibility of arbitrary interpretation. 7. According to Ex corde ecclesiae, "all Catholic teachers are to be faithful to, and all other teachers are to respect, Catholic doc-trine and morals in their research and teaching" (II, Art. 4, no. 3). Again, many say this is a violation of academic freedom and that it will frighten nonconformist Catholic instructors and non- Catholic instructors who have unorthodox moral viewpoints from joining Catholic faculties: 8. Ex corde ecclesiae grants that "freedom in research and teach-ing" is proper to scholarly activity, but adds: "so long as the rights Review for Religious of the individual and of the community are preserved within the confines of the truth and the common good" (II, Art. 2, no. 5). For secular scholars, freedom is restricted only by the rules of one's discipline; for the church, freedom is conditioned by the truth as made known in the revelation of God in the Scriptures, tradition, and the teaching of the magisterium (II, Art. 2, no. 5; Art. 4, no. 3). 9. Probably the most contentious issue of all concerns the requirement that the local bishop authorize every theologian. Both documents declare that all those teach-ing "theological disciplines" must receive a "mandate" or "mandaturn''8 from him. This was the sticking point already in Ex corde ecclesiae, where canon 812 is cited in a foot-note (II, Art. 4, no. 3 and endnote 50). "Application" states even more strongly, in the body of the document and not simply in a footnote, canon 812: "Catholics who teach the theological disciplines are required to have a mandatum granted by competent ecclesiastical authority" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e). The "mandaturn" is explained as "a tech-nical term referring to the juridical expression of the ecclesial rela-tionship of communion that exists between the church and the Catholic teacher of a theological discipline in the Catholic uni-versity" ("Application," endnote 41). The mandaturn acknowledges that the Catholic professor "is a teacher within the full communion of the Catholic Church" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, 1). It "recognizes the professor's commitment and responsibility to teach authentic Catholic doctrine and to refrain from putting forth as Catholic teaching anything contrary to the church's magisterium" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, 3). The declaration that the professor will teach in com-munion with the church is to "be expressed by the profession of faith and oath of fide!ity or in any other reasonable manner accept-able to the one issuing the rnandaturn" (endnote 42). The manda-turn "should be given in writing" and "remains in effect wherever and as long as the professor teaches unless and until withdrawn by competent ecclesiastical authority" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, c and b). Nothing is stated about what would happen if a theologian does not ask for or receive the rnandaturn or loses it. The justification for the The most contentious issue of all concerns the requirement that the local bishop authorize every theologian. September-October 2000 Tripole * Ex Corde Ecclesiae mandatum "is grounded in the right and responsibility of bishops to safeguard the faithful teaching of Catholic doctrine to the peo-ple of God and to assure the authentic presentation of the church's magisterium" (endnote 41). Conclusion Why are Ex corde ecdesiae and its "Application to the United States" causing so much excitement in higher-education circles? Ex corde ecclesiae originally received favorable press from Catholic educators because it restored to consciousness the importance of maintaining Catholic identity in our schools. Whereas in the 1970s and 1980s we were affirming that our schools were in the Catholic (and Jesuit) tradition, implying a certain aloofness from that tradition, now, in this new era that stresses individuality and uniqueness,, stressing our Catholic (and Jesuit) identity is in vogue. The problem comes with dictating what precisely constitutes this identity. The Vatican wants a juridical relationship that demands that this identity include communion with the Catholic Church and fidelity to its teachings. Opponents want this identity to come from a more attenuated relationship to the church, allow-ing for great latitude, great freedom, of thought and action. This is nothing more than an expression of the deep division con-stantly being expressed in Catholicism today between those who understand their Catholic identity to include conformity to the teachings of the church and those who do not. And so it is pre-cisely the juridical aspect of "Application" that is at the center of the controversy. Thus, since Vatican II, Catholic higher education has taken two roads: (1) toward greater integration into the life of the church and conformity to the church's teachings and (2) toward greater separation from dcclesiastical control, with Catholic iden-tity determined by individual criteria and self-regulation. Ultimately what is at issue here is the role of the church in mod-ern Catholic life. Notes ~ See Philip Gleason, Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), esp. pp. 12-17 and 318-322. Gleason summarizes Modernism this way: "Modernism has been described as a many-faceted effort to accom-modate Catholic teaching to the 'collective change in mentality' taking Review for Religious place in the late nineteenth century, and it raised new questions about many aspects of Catholic doctrine. Among the more serious were ques-tions dealing with 'the nature of revelation, of biblical inspiration, and of religious knowledge, the personality of Christ and his true role in the origins of the church and of its sacraments, the nature and function of the living tradition on the Catholic system and the limits of dogmatic evo-lution, the authority of the church's magisterium and the real import of the concept of orthodoxy, [and] the value of the classical apologetic" (Gleason, p. 12, brackets in the original; citing Roger Aubert et al., The Church in a Secularized Society, Vol. 5 of The Christian Centuries [New York: Paulist Press, 1978], p. 191). 2 See Alice Gallin OSU, ed., American Catholic Higher Education: Essential Documents, 1967-1990 (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1992), p. 2; and James L. Heft SM, "Have Catholic Colleges Reached an Impasse?" Chronicle of Higher Education 46, no. 2 (12 November 1999): B6-B7. 3Monika K. Hellwig, "The American Catholic University and the Apostolic Constitution Ex Corde Ecclesiae," Current Issues in Catholic Higher Education 20, no. 1 (Fall 1999): 21-40 at 21. 4John Paul II, "Ex corde ecclesiae: The Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities," Origins 20, no. 17 (4 October 1990): 265-276; from CNS's marginal background data, 267-272 at 268. 5 David J. O'Brien, "The Land O'Lakes Statement," Boston College Magazine 58, no. 1 (Winter 1998): 38-45 at 39. 6Oral conversation in spring 1999 with Rev. Paul C. Reinert SJ, then (1967) president of Saint Louis University, who was at the meeting. 7 "Land O'Lakes Statement: The Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University," Gallin, pp. 7-12 at 7. 8 "Application" uses the Latin "mandatum." Post-Vatican II Statements on Catholic Higher Education 1967: Land O'Lakes, Wisconsin: North American Regional Meeting of the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU). Its doc-ument, "The Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University," asserts "institutional autonomy" and "academic freedom" as essential to Catholic universities. 1968: Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo: Eighth Triennial Congress of IFCU. Its document is called "The Catholic University in the Modern World." 1969: Rome: International Congress of Delegates of Catholic Universities. Its document, "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento," names four essential characteristics of a Catholic university. 1972: Rome: 2nd International Congress of the Sacred Congregation September-October 2000 Tri~ole ¯ Ex Gorde Eccle~iae for Catholic Education (SCCE) and IFCU. Its document is called "The Catholic University in the Modern World." 1973: Rome: Plenary Assembly of the SCCE. Letter from Cardinal Gabriel Garrone, prefect of SCCE, directing improvements of the 1972 doc-ument. 1979: Vatican: Sapientia Christiana, apostolic constitution for "pontifi-cal" institutions. 1983: Rome: Code of Canon Law (1983), canons 807-814 regarding uni-versities. Canon 812: Catholic theologians required to have "mandate" from local ecclesiastical authority. 1985: Rome: SCCE. Its document is called "Draft Schema of a Pontifical Document on Catholic Universities." 1990: Vatican: Ex Corde Ecclesiae: Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities. In Origins 20, no. 17 (4 October 1990). 1993: Washington: National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB). Its document is the first draft of "Ex Corde Ecclesiae: An Application to the United States." In Origins 23, no. 27 (16 December 1993). 1996: Washington: NCCB. Second and "final" draft passed 224-6 and was sent to Rome. In Origins 26, no. 24 (28 November 1996). 1997: Rome: SCCE rejects this "first" draft; requires juridical ordinances; subcommittee is formed to draft a new document. 1998: Washington: NCCB. Third draft is discussed but not voted on. In Origins 28, no. 25 (3 .December 1998). 1999: Washington: NCCB. Its document, the fourth draft of the sub-committee's "Application," requiring a mandatum, passed 223-31-I, was sent to Rome and accepted by Rome with a few minor changes. See Origins 29, no. 25 (2 December 1999) and Origins 30, no. 5 (15 June 2000). Two authors who appeared in our last issue went to God before it went to press: Sister Bernadine Pieper CHM, on 20 February 2000, one day before her eighty-second birthday, and Father Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB, on 17 May 2000, at seventy-six years of age. Let us remember them and their communities in prayer. Review for Religious STAN PARMISANO Theology Lived in Faith Back in 1966 the Dominican School in Berkeley, California, was inaugurated, the first Catholic seminary within the Graduate Theological Union (GTU). The Dominican master gen-eral, Aniceto Fernfindez, was present for the grand occasion. He outlined for the public at large the projected purpose of the school? It was to be a community of study, research, and teaching in dialogue with the other faiths of the union and the university. It was to be ecumenical in the widest sense, embracing not only other Christian churches but other religions and no religion as well. The master general, like some before and many since, saw California, the State of California, as the most fitting place for ecumenical study. It was the Western world, but looking to the East. He said that California "is the society of the future. Here the changes which all society eventually will face are already tak-ing place. And here the problems which the new social situation will create for eve/Tone are already manifest." It was, he said, for the religious community to enter into dialogue with all who were confronting these problems and trying to solve them. This projected endeavor was not to be a matter of mind only but of life. It was to be a theology out of life experience and toward life's betterment. So the master general emphasized the contem-plative foundation of the school. He did not in his formal address spell out for the general public precisely what he meant by "the contemplative," but to Dominicans listening to a Dominican his Stan Parmisano OP wrote for us in the early 1970s and in the late 1980s. This article of his was a recent commencement address. His address is Saint Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. September-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith meaning was clear enough: the school was to be grounded not just on contemplative prayer, prayer that quietly listens for the Lord, but on the contemplative life, living with and for the Lord. Later, in his visitation report to the Western Dominicans as a whole, he made this quite explicit.2 His directive reads: "A new priorial house is to be established at Berkeley in which there is to be the perfect Dominican life of regular [religious] observance." With this in place, "the fathers assigned there are to be ded-icated to higher and ecumenical studies." Emphasis upon the con-templative religious life of which study was both part and product was no innovation on the part of Father Fernfindez. It was the tradition of the Dominican order from its beginnings, perhaps more in the breach than in full observance, but it was the ideal that Dominicans were to be held to. They were not only to think their theology but live it, and live it antecedently to their think-ing it. It was out of a life centered upon God that thought about God and the things of God was to emerge. That was some thirty years ago. Today's theologians also come to thought out of their life experience, but often it is experience of the human dimension that has priority. God is there, but off to the side or hidden away under the human, or inhuman, situation-- as is frequently the fact in our contemporary world. It is by being immersed in a given time and place, by living the life of particu-lar assemblages of people, that we come to know them and their special problems and so can begin to theologize about them. The more traditional theology--that which, true to its name, has God (theos) as its object and center--also demands experience of the human, though more of the divine; but, if the human, the divine within it, which makes it truly human and keeps it so. It observes the priority of the Scriptures: "In the beginning God." and "In the beginning was the Word."; the priority of the decalogue and the gospel's summation of it (God first, self and neighbor second); the priority in prayer as Jesus taught it (first, recognition of the Father and his holiness, then the speaking of our needs); the pri-ority set by Jesus for his own life (he was the man for others, but first among others was his Father). Though Jesus was marvelously human, he was much more wonderfully divine. People, yes, but as beloved of God and in their deepest heart yearning for God! The human situation, yes, but as measured by the divine! Creation, yes again; but as issuing from, held by, and continually moving back to its Creator! Living with Re~i~ for Religio~s God as he is in himself, and searching him out as he is immanent in creation, we come to share his view of the world, what he wants and expects of us, not just what we and our world expect and want for ourselves. So the master general in 1966, so the whole of Dominican tradition! The school has changed through the thirty years of its exis-tence. It is not now just a school by and for Dominicans. It has embraced other traditions, whether lay or religious, and looks to profit from the variety of its membership as well as contribute to those involved with it. But what must at all costs be maintained is its initial fundamental principle that thought about God--theol-ogy- must bud from a life rooted in God, whether that life takes on a specifically Dominican character or another of a wide variety of possible lifestyles. Other great religions besides Christianity are in agreement. For Buddha, anyone who is content to know the ultimate Reality only theoretically, or merely by hearsay, is like a herdsman of others' cows. For Mohammed, the person who thinks about Allah without having really experienced him is just an ass bearing a load of books. These words resonate with the begin-nings of Christian thinking: it was only because the Apostles and early disciples lived with Christ, ate, drank, and spoke with him, listened to him, touched and were touched by him, that they were able to secure the proper theological foundation of the church. Basic to this life with God and consequent study of God and the things of God is, of course,faith, faith in the sense of creed, the body of revealed truths that become the first principles of Christian theology, but also faith as the God-given virtue or power within us by which we actually accept these revelations and see in and beyond them to God himself. Living with God presupposes that we lovingly know the God we are living with. Due objection may be raised to my use of the terms "see" and "know" in relation to the divine and to faith, for God is the hid-den one, the unknown and unknowable, and faith is traditionally opposed to seeing. "We walk by faith, not by sight," says St. Paul (2 Co 5:7); and in Hebrews 11:I we find faith defined as "the con-viction [or evidence] of things unseen." If one should object that, as Jesus himself said (Jn 20:29), the Apostle Thomas believed because he had seen ("You believe, Thomas, because you have seen"), Aquinas, in good Christian tradition, glosses that what Thomas "saw" was not the divinity of Christ, but only his human-ity. Seeing this, he was then able to believe in Christ's divinity September-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith (Summa Theologiae, 2a-2ae, 1, 4 ad I). Eastern religions are just as emphatic concerning the unknowability of the divine: "The ignorant," the Third Upanishad declares, "think that Brahman [God] is known, but the wise know him to be beyond knowledge.''3 A whole body of wisdom old and young suggests, however, that things are not quite so negative. The text from the Upanishad just quoted is preceded by this: "One truly knows Brahman who knows him as beyond knowledge." And it is followed by: "Through knowledge of Brahman comes power. Through knowledge of Brahman comes victory over death." Apparently Brahman can be known at the same time he is not known. There is similar ambi-guity in St. Paul. For him, faith is of the unseen, yet he can also say regarding our experience of God: "We see now darkly, as in a mirror" (1 Co 13:12). We see "darkly," but we do see. Aquinas, like St. Paul here, though firm as to our inability to know or see God in this life, concedes some slight knowledge of God to be possible, even for the ungraced rational mind, and, in question after question in Part 1 of his Summa Theologiae, he lavishly and beautifully demonstrates his point. He also places the virtue of faith primarily in the intellect, the knowing faculty. Faith, for him, though of the unknown and unseen, is an intel-ligent act (ST 2a-2ae, 4, 2). For St. John of the Cross, God is the Nada, Nothing, the Night, but a far cry from that opaque night and nothingness prayed to by one of Ernest Hemingway's faith-less souls: "Our Nada who art in Nada, Nada be thy Nada . " St. John's night and nothingness is rather luminous and fully alive, "a night," he says, "which guided me, more surely than the light of noonday, / to the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me." "Well I knew who!" Knowledge of the one he did not know! The ambiguity may be resolved when we consider that God is darkness not to the total human understanding, but only to one level of it, that is, to the mind as we, in Western, and now in Eastern tradition infected by the West, generally and narrowly regard it: rational consciousness, the discursive self-directive mind. But there are other levels, just as present to us and perhaps more continuously operative. "O the mind, mind has mountains," wrote Gerard Manley Hopkins, overwhelmed at the sight of them. And Freud and Jung with their myriad disciples spent lifetimes explor-ing and categorizing them into conscious, unconscious, subcon-scious, superconscious mind. The great religions of the world have Review for Religious long since known of them, as Aldous Huxley suggests in his sum-mation of the second of our tenets held in common by them: "Human beings are capable not merely of knowing aboz~t the Divine Ground by inference; they can also realize its existence by a direct intuition, superior to discursive reasoning. This immediate knowl-edge unites the knower with that which is known.''4 Much of both sacred and profane literature speaks of these alternative modes of knowing. There is the Atman of Hindu literature, the Self with a capital S, which is identified with Brahman, the transcendent God, now inter-nalized: when one knows, one is conscious of oneself as knowing, but within oneself and out of sight it is Brahman himself as Atman who is the knower. The Tenth Upanishad says: "Unseen, but the seer; unheard, but the hearer; unthinkable, but the thinker; unknown, but the knower--there is no seer but he, there is no hearer but he. there is no knower but he. He, the Self, is the Inner Ruler, the Immortal."s This seems not much different, really, from the Catholic Christian conception of grace, which is the very life of God become our own, such that God's knowing becomes ours, his loving becomes ours--God liv-ing and knowing and loving in, with, and through us, making no sense to those who think only in terms of conscious thought and of Christianity as a matter of mere morality or of a distant love (God up there, I down here), but making the best of sense to those listening to Christ himself as he prays "that all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you. I pray that they may be [one] in us ¯. that your love for me may live in them, and I may live in them" (Jn 17:20-21, 26). The operative word~ here are "one" and "in," which struck St. Paul so forcefully, leading to his preaching of the Mystical Body, and which led g~eat theologians like Augustine and Aquinas and many Christian mystics to see God as closer to us than we to ourselves. Out of this source of knowing--God's in mine, mine in God's--comes knowledge of the Unknowable. Blaise Pascal, who was much enamored of the conscious, dis-cursive mind and in fact was one of the world's great mathemati-cians, finally realized--through an experience of what he took to be God--a higher dimension of knowing and gave it classical Living with God presupposes that we lovingly know the God we are living with. September-October 2000 Parmisano * Theology Lived in Faith expression: "The heart has reasons that reason does not know." John Keats in one of his best poems sings of another level of "hear-ing" besides the sensual and the rational: "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard / Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; / Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared, / Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone." T.S. Eliot takes up the same thought and deepens and expands it. He speaks of "music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all but you are the music while the music lasts." The frustrated child psychologist in Peter Shaffer's Equus, after dabbling in religion with purely rational conscious knowing, in the end cries for another kind of knowledge: "I need more des-perately than my children need me a way of seeing in the dark." And on and on. The virtue of faith is, in Christian tradition, this kind of non-rational, nondiscursive, unconscious knowing. It is this graced ele-ment of true vision that not only begins our theologizing, but is meant to run all through it, to guide and direct it, and at the end of the process to be itself expanded and deepened. Theology is not a castle built upon air, not a rational structure erected on fig-ments of blind faith that a defensive apologetics thinks it has bol-stered effectively from without. Faith is not a blind act, it is seeing. And so theology is intellective from top to bottom, a seeing or understanding all the way. Doubt and questioning will be there, even apparent rejection of my faith, but these may be only on the level of my conscious mind, leaving my deeper, inexpressible vision steady and intact. This all-pervasiveness of faith in theology has its counterpart in fine works of art, and may be better understood by considering them. If we limit our examples to the art of literature, we may cite the great Dante Alighieri, a man of prodigious faith and high consciousness, an ardent lover of rational, deliberative thought, though with a poetic instinct that could move beyond the rationally intelligible to sight, vision (fantasia) of something more. What makes his masterwork, the Divine Comedy, a great poem? Some critics have seen in it high poetic moments, but have denied its poetic character as a whole. They found too much that is unspon-taneous, deliberative, and therefore "unpoetic" about it: an over-all schema minutely worked out with mathematical precision, detailed scholastic argumentation, seemingly pointless disquisi-tions in an archaic science, crude and crass descriptions, and mat-ter- of-fact excursions into the politics of the day. Dante, some Review for Religious have suggested, would have been a better poet had he been less a philosopher. But such criticisms have been found wanting. There is something that runs all through that long poem, giving life and beauty to each of its parts, some of which in themselves may be mere prose, but in Dante's broad context are poetry. We can sort out the various elements: the story, the detailed and balanced schema, the theme and characters, the dialogue, the philosophy and theology that it incorporates and expresses, the imagery, the language, the music. But the poetry here is none of the above by itself or collectively. Rather it is the unconscious, unformu-latable vision that brought all these ele-ments into being, drew them all together in a wondrous unity, and remains within the poem seducing the listener into it. And within this overall vision the philosophy, the rational dis-course, rather than detracting from the poem, enhances it, giving it depth and breadth. Dante turns out to be a better poet precisely because he is much of a philosopher besides. So, too, in theology and preaching, all sorts of things are thought and said, but, if all is as it should be, each element springs out of and terminates in this dynamic underground river of under-standing, of faith. The conscious elements are there, but only to help the conscious mind grasp something of unconscious faith and deepen and broaden our experience of it. T.S. Eliot says: "We had the experience [faith] but missed the meaning, / And approach to the meaning [theology] restores the experience / In a different form, beyond any meaning / We can assign to happiness." It is the same for life as a whole. What was it, for instance, that held that remarkable little theologian St~ Th4r~se of Lisieux so tenaciously to God, to one she knew to be God and loved as such? It was not stubbornness or fanaticism or mere habit. Her writ-ings, the testimony of those who lived with her, and all the hard and minute ecclesiastical scrutiny of her life argue to the contrary. Anyone who reads her, especially her last letters and conversa-tions, must know it was some kind of vision that held her every moment of her life--but not a vision, finally, of conscious human perception or reflection. Conscious thought seemed, rather, to get in the way in those last days, and she experienced darkness as The virtue of faith is, in Christian tradition, this kind of nonrational, nondiscursive, unconscious knowing. Septentber-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith she tried to think about and pray to God, experiencing temptations against her faith. But under the darkness, penetrating through it to the light, was vision properly so designated, like the ability that eyes and rational intelligence have; though she herself scarcely knew with her conscious mind that it was there. It is life lived in and through this vision of faith that must per-meate and illuminate all study and creativity with respect to the divine. If this life is not there, we end up with a distortion of God and world. But, if it is, we can hopefully come to know God with God's own knowledge while experiencing as our own something of his perception of the world and of his compassion and redeem-ing activity for it. Notes i Father Fernfindez's address at the inaugural banquet at the Claremont Hotel, Berkeley, is printed in Season (Winter 1966): 197- 202. The address together with the foundation of the school is briefly dis-cussed in my history, Mission West: The Western Dominican Province, 18Y0-1966 (Oakland, California, 1997), pp. 409-418. 2 The visitation report is in the Western Dominican Archives, Xl:110(A). ¯ ¯ 3 As in The Upanishads: Breath of the Eternal, trans. Swami Prabhavananda and Frederick Manchester (New York: New American Library, 1960), p. 31. 4 Aldous Huxley's introduction to The Song of God: Bhagavad-Gita, trans. Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood (New York: New American Library, 1955), p. 13. s The Upanishads, p. 96. Monks' Chant The rhythm of the chant, like quiet waves upon the sea, rocks my soul to peace. Maxine Inkel SL Review for Religious MATTHEW EGGEMEIER Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View Generation Xers are an elusive and diverse genera-tion. It is a difficult task to pinpoint representative characteristics of a generation that spans twenty years. As a whole, Generation X embodies a myriad of char-acteristics, some of these quite different and some even diametrically opposed. As a member of this so-called Generation X and as one who is giving reli-gious life serious thought, I want to offer some reflections on Generation X literature and what reli-gious life looks like to me and at least some other members of my generation. Generation X is the cohort of those who were born between 1961 and 1981. The X stands for demogra-phers' inability to typify this generation by any single trend or belief. Demographers characterize Xers' lives as unstable, fragmented, secularized, and uncommit-ted. In general, Xers lack a solid formation in the church's teachings and often lack any strong sense of Catholic identity, an identity that was more present and important to preceding generations. Some researchers claim that Xers are the first generation to grow up in a post-Christian America, a situation affect-religious identity Matthew T. Eggemeier is a senior majoring in religious studies at the University of Dayton. His address is 4428 Parklawn Drive; Kettering, Ohio 45440. September-October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life ing the sociology and the psychology of Xers, particularly with respect to their attitudes toward religion. When attempting to describe Xers, some writers err, I believe, by absolutizing certain characteristics while ignoring others. Sometimes I have read that individuals within my gener-ation are leaving the church in droves. At other times I have read that Xers have great reverence for the church and the pope. I believe that the truth lies somewhere in the middle of these con-trary positions. Lilly Endowment recently published some findings about Generation X Catholics. In the study the authors state that, on the whole, Xer Catholics neither reject the institutional church nor are right of center with respect to it. Moreover, the authors say that Xers are far from "monolithic" and that any attempt to lump together their behaviors inevitably leads to an inaccurate generalization. These findings resonate with my own limited experience of my generation. I think it important that I briefly introduce myself and give the reader a betteridea of who I am. I am a twenty-two-year-old senior at the University of Dayton double-majoring in reli-gious studies and psychology. I was brought up in an upper-middle-class family in a suburb just outside of Dayton. I have two older brothers, one of whom is giving serious thought to entering a monastery. My mother is a sixth-grade teacher. My father is a professor of psychology who considered entering an active order out of high school. They have deeply held religious convictions that they lovingly imparted to their children. I have found support from both my parents and my brothers when I have expressed interest in religious life. In some respects I feel that my upbringing has been atypical in relation to many other Xers. Many have had life experiences that differ from mine, and I have observed a number of trends among them: secularization, isolation, instability, and postpone-ment of commitment. As I describe these trends, I will present what I think religious orders might do in response to them. While I do not presume to speak for all of my generation, I do know that I speak for some of us. Although the focus of this article per-tains to religious life as lived in an active order, some of the ideas may be useful to all religious looking for possible vocations. First and foremost, we Xers have grown up in a secularized culture, a culture that avoids outward expression of religious con- Review for Religious victions, a social climate in which religion has been removed from everyday life. Religion might govern one's personal rela-tionship with God, but it rarely affects one's entire lifestyle. Often I sense that others in my own peer group feel an uneasiness when religion or God is brought up as a topic of conversation. One's sex life is more readily discussed than one's religious beliefs. On the other hand, for those of us Xers who have deep religious con-victions and feel drawn to the church, outward expression of this conviction is an integral but muted aspect of our experience. We do not want to keep our religious beliefs hidden within us as though they were something we are embarrassed about or ashamed of. We want to share and express the deep joy and love that we have found in religion, but have a hard time doing so, given the nature of our secularized culture. I consider it essential, therefore, that religious trying to attract Xers not water down their commitment or disappear in secular culture. Forms of outward religious expres-sion can be attractive to Xers who see this as a witness to the sacred in the midst of a desacralized culture. Xers are known for their great spiritual hunger.1 In part, this hunger derives from living in a desacralized and secularized world. When this deep hunger for religious meaning has not been satisfied within the religious practice of families, many of us have looked outside of the traditional familial practices to come into contact with the transcendent meaning that we crave. Xers often come from broken homes and fragmented family lives that have not provided us with a stable sense of community and mean-ing. When we see, then, a community whose focus is the Ultimate, we see a unique and attractive lifestyle. The stability of solid community life, the focus of which is Christ, can be a refreshing change from the transient and fragmented lifestyles that have been the experience of many Xers. When speaking about the possibility of a vocation with one Of my friends who was brought up in a divorced family, I was told that, for her, one of the most attractive features of religious life is the stability of community life and its constant search for meaning. Just like many other Xers, her upbringing lacked consistent and stable familial relationships--and the meaning that one derives from such relationships. Xers are known for their great spiritual hunger. September-October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life Religious life can offer an Xer an insight into the meaning of life and death, but, more importantly, it offers the opportunity to live out this insight through the everyday structures and sup-ports of religious life. Religion offers meaning in abundance, but religious life is special in providing everyday community practices that foster spiritual growth in ways that are difficult to find on one's own. Many of my friends desire to incorporate God more deeply into their daily lives. It is a struggle, though, to follow through with this desire, given the hustle and bustle of every-day life and the relatively little support we receive in this regard from our peers. In other words, we understand that Christ should be the central meaning of life, but have trouble trans-lating this reality into a daily practice. Religious life offers Xers a lifestyle that is already centered on Christ and a disci-plined life that revolves around him and his work. As I see it, the main purpose of religious life is to cultivate a life lived in Christ and for others. Another reason that Xers have for looking into religious life is our craving for a strong community life. We have grown up in a society that has become increasingly isolated and individual-ized as a result of the growing affluence and the expanding tech-nologies. We live in an environment in which we can be entertained for hours by television, movies, and the Internet, pursuits which require no interpersonal contact. One of the most commonly found features of Generation X is its sense of isolation and its yearning for stable companionship and community. Contemporary families have become self-sufficient and isolated. They seldom have a strong sense of community support, which was once prevalent. Xers have to look elsewhere to find or rebuild the support system of faith and community that has been absent in their own families. We Xers are drawn wherever we feel wel-come and find friendship. In a society that is increasingly hostile towards ~he notion of community and continues to promote indi-vidualism, we desire friendships and a sense of connectedness. Religious orders with strong community life and ritualized com-munity practices and prayer are quite attractive to us because this lifestyle cannot be found in the secular world. We have trou-ble finding within our peer group a support community for our faith development. A religious order that has a strong community life focused on supporting one another in faith development, holiness, and service of God is a refreshing change. Review for Religious When I first began discerning several years ago, I lived with a religious community for one week, basically living their lifestyle. The entire day seemed to support what was most important to me--to be aware of God's presence, do his will, and to serve him through prayer and action. For me, and I pi-esume for many other Xers, the community life that religious life offers is an attractive quality, offering companionship and the opportunity for growth in prayer, service, and holiness; but we do not want a community just to comfort us and give us a sense of security. We want to be stretched and challenged to serve God and others with the com-munity life serving as a support that allows us to reach beyond ourselves in the service of God through prayer and works. Another characteristic of Xers is postponement of com-mitment. 2 For a generation that has seen promises broken again and again, commitment is a very serious matter, and so we hes-itate a lot. An average Xer has been close to large numbers of parental divorces and seen countless images of broken com-mitments via television and other electronic media portrayed as acceptable ways of living. Because we have seeri the fiche nature of modern lifestyles, we want something that will endure. We are determined not to make the same mistakes as the pre-ceding generations. Another reason for postponement of commitment with Xers is that we have in front of us a rich array of opportunities that, for the most part, were unavailable to earlier generations. The age for entering marriage, making a career choice, and choosing a religious vocation has gradually risen in a society that offers such a wide variety of possible lifestyles. Previous generations, I am told, saw the commitment to religious life as a noble choice and legitimate path to holiness, one that many-made directly out of high school. Today this choice is seen as countercultural. What is more, we have learned that there are many paths to holiness. When choosing the religious lifestyle, previous generations often found support from their friends and parents. Today, in most instances, this countercultural decision is supported neither by friends nor parents. Just recently I read an article in which a mother of a semi-narian documented the mixed signals she received when she told friends and acquaintances of her son's decision to become a priest. The reactions varied from bewilderment as to why he would want to do such a thing to outright opposition to his decision. Septenlber- October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life One person asked her if she thought that her son would stay. The mother was upset by this question. She found herself think-ing that, at the wedding of her friend's daughter, she herself would likely not ask her friend if she thought her daughter's mar-riage would last. Another parent told her that they had talked their son out of wanting to become a priest when he had dis-cussed it. Unfortunately, I think these viewpoints are indicative of what many Catholics think of a young man considering reli-gious life or the priesthood. Supporting this anecdotal evidence is a 1997 CARA survey which showed that 3 in 10 youths had considered a vocation, but only 2 in 10 of the parents supported their child's interest) As a consequence of our l~ack of cultural and parental support, we Generation Xers might typically take much longer to realize that this is our true calling. We would definitely benefit from having people close to us encouraging us in our consideration of enter-ing religious life. Another form of support would be vocation groups where several of us interested in religious life meet with one another, socialize, and discuss issues relevant to our dis-cernment. Two conclusions can be drawn from these observations for religious communities trying to attract new vocations. First, since as a generation we receive so little support from our friends and parents when considering religious life, it is very important that religious communities develop friendships with us that nurture growth in faith and commitment to God. Here I want to review some findings of a CARA survey on the role of invitation into the priesthood. New research has shown that the most important factor in young people's choosing a vocation is a personal invi-tation from a religious to join.4 A statement quoted in the arti-cle has the number of invitations gradually going down in recent years. Bishop Paul Loverde explains that "during the sixties the percentage of diocesan priests who actively encouraged boys to enter the seminary dropped from 64 percent to 33 percent and, for religious order priests, from 56 percent to 27 percent, and these figures have not changed over the last three decades." In the CARA survey, only 18 percent of youths active in their parish life had been personally invited to consider the priest-hood. Clearly, an integral component of attracting Xers to reli-gious life has substantially decreased. This does not mean that religious should haphazardly invite every young person they run Review for Religious into, but, if you invite us and we show interest, keep in contact and support us. An invitation is in itself not enough. Also, I sug-gest that religious make it clear that they are not just trying to recruit us into religious life, but rather want to help us discern what God truly wants of us, whether it be religious or married or single life. Invitation and support may help many of us to make a coun-tercultural decision more easily. The key here is friendship. As a young man interested in religion, I have often been approached by religious trying to recruit me into becoming a priest. It is discouraging to think that their interest may not be in me as a person, but instead in me as a possible vocation. This is not to say that religious should not actively recruit individuals. Many, like myself, would not consider reli-gious life if it were not for an invi-tation from a religious. There is, however, a distinct difference between inviting and supporting on the one hand and just outright recruiting on the other. A true rapport, indeed a real friendship, with one religious is more valu-able in discernment than one hundred religious asking me if I am interested in their order. A case in point: a friend of mine was recruited by a priest who had met him on retreat. They met for lunch several times after the retreat. During one meeting the priest asked him if he was going to join his particular order. Mind you, my friend had never mentioned that he was even interested in this order. When my fried said that he was not interested at this time in his life, the priest became indignant and lectured him on doing God's will rather than his own. After that meeting, the priest never con-tacted him again. Needless to say, this is not a good approach. The priest saw my friend as a number, a possible recruit, and that is all. Worse yet, he tried to manipulate my friend through pressure and guilt. My friend sensed this pressure from the begin-ning. When the priest's intentions became apparent, he was not surprised; but he was certainly disappointed. Second, as I have already said, I belimie that joining religious " life has become a radical countercultural decision. I have sensed Invitation and support may help many of us to make a counterculturaI decision more easily. Septentber-October 2000 Eggemeier * Generation X and Reli~ous Life this in my own discernment. Countless times old friends and acquaintances have asked me in a negative tone, "Are you becom-ing a priest?" or said, "Why would you become a priest--you could get married!" Religious life has become manifestly coun-tercultural. Choosing religious life has become a radical choice, and so, to attract new vocations, religious need to present them-selves as people who have benefited immensely from their voca-tion and have found peace, mission, love, and a passion for the gospel and for God through their decision. Since this is a countercultural decision, religious orders should accentuate the things they might offer us that we cannot easily acquire as laypersons. I often hear from people discerning a religious vocation that they do not see what it gives them that married life does not: "I could do the same things and have the same type of life consecrated to God as a married person." If it is true that married people can live like religious, why should anyone enter religious life? In light of this, I think orders should bring out the qualities that differentiate them from the married life. In my opinion, some qualities that religious life offers that directly oppose our current cultural trends of greed, power, and promiscuity are the vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity. We are looking for and attracted to these countercultural answers to the problems of modern society, in which there seems to be so lit-tle deep hfippiness. We see the emptiness of promiscuity and hoarding money and want to take a radical stance against these things and devote our lives to something else. Another difference between a religious commitment and that of married life is the uniqueness of the call to live a radical lifestyle consecrated to God alone. I do not know how to artic-ulate this, and I hesitate to say it. But I see something special and profound in an individual taking the stance that God is so central to his or her life that he or she is willing to sacrifice mar-riage in order to live for God in this unique manner. I think that married life and religious life are unique calls with different strengths and weaknesses. I feel that often religious have not stressed the uniqueness of their call because doing so might seem to lessen the call to marriage. Both are calls from God to live a holy life. Yet there is something very striking about religious life--few people planning to get married are ever asked why they would want to get married! In sum, Xers are not going to make Review for Religious a radical countercultural decision unless they see a radical lifestyle being lived out, one that has benefits that married life does not. Finally, for Xers the experiential is essential. In general, we do not believe in something unless we can experience it. Often the Catholic Church can be seen as suppressing the experiential side in favor of the cerebral, and for Xers this is neither satisfying nor believable. To attract Xers, religious orders should present a spirituality that is visible and palpable in everyday life. Religious orders might benefit from an emphasis on daily communal wor-ship and a radical commitment to expressing the experiential side of their practices to Xers. In doing this, religious orders can show Xers that Catholic worship and spirituality are vibrantly lived. Extended community-living experiences for Xers can also be a benefit, because these allow Xers to get a sense of the commu-nities' spiritual practice. Again, l do not presume to speak for my whole generation. I hope, however, that I have described some salient characteris-tics of my generation. We are looking for transcendent mean-ing, community, solid commitments, stability, experience, and service--all of which I feel religious life has to offer. The best way, of course, to attract new vocations has always been and always will be contact with religious who have found joy, community, commitment, and God in their religious life. This, coupled with religious actively encouraging young people to con-sider the religious lifestyle, could have a profound effect on a generation that is starved for things that religious life has and wishes to share. Notes ' Albert Dilanni SM, "Religious Vocations: New Signs of the Times," Review for Religious 52, no. 5 (September-October 1993): 745-763. 2 j. Weber, "Searching for a Vocation X-Style," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocati6n Conference 22 (1997): 9-14. 3 See Ann Carey, "The Harvest Is Great, but the Workers Ain't Invited," Our Sunday Visitor, 19 October 1997. 4 Carey, "Harvest." September-October 2000 J. SHEILA GALLIGAN Bride of Christ and Ecclesial Identity I~her recent article "The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative omments," Elizabeth McDonough marshals an unwelcome yet necessary diagnosis of religious life. She asserts that "critical self-appraisal has been neither prevalent, nor popular among American women religious since Vatican II." Such forthright com-ments compel our attention. Made uncomfortable by critical assess-ments of the prevailing paths of renewal, contemporary women religious, she suggests, manage somehow to forget or deny the reports. Indeed, they demonstrate a bewildering, obstinate accom-modation to the rhythms of the prevailing culture. The carefully crafted analysis is pointed. It provides, in a certain sense, a pow-erful Augustinian arraignment of a currently pervasive manifesta-tion of pride: a deliberate choice to avoid and deny reality. She reminds the reader that critical evaluation (albeit accurate!) has been met with "studied unconcern or strident rejection., dis-dain., open derision." 1 The descriptives point out our penchant for self-deception. It is disconcerting to note, as McDonough does, that, while the need for public and prophetic witness is often enthusiastically acknowledged, a specific, distinctive religious witness has lessened considerably. An extensive rhetoric has emerged, but jargon has a way of irritating, and convoluted sociological or psychological expositions often obscure the theological or spiritual sense. Ironies J. Sheila Galligan IHM last wrote for us in November-December 1994. Her address remains Immaculata College; Immaculata, Pennsylvania 19345. Review for Religious are noticeable. There is lack of clarity about identity and mission; there are negative results from an exaggerated egalitarianism; reli-gious in their ministries have a general invisibility; and there is a dearth of new members. These things can affect us, excite us, and cause us to enter into serious dialogue about envisioning the future. But where, McDonough thoughtfully inquires, are the specific decisions and actions that will initiate and support a "corrective change of course" ? 2 I believe that a possible and necessary first step in critical reflection and corrective decision making depends upon the rather neglected perspective of ecclesial identity. Corrective effort must take place on two levels: the level of theological insight and the level of "heartsight"; that is, insight must become embodied in effective symbol. This article suggests that we seek a renewed understanding of the church as the bride of Christ and explore a renewed use of spousal imagery in the service of a "corrective change of course." I will offer a rationale in support of a readily identifiable religious habit, specifically distinguished by a veil, as a form of public, prophetic witness and a "sign of consecration, poverty, and mem-bership in a particular religious family" (vc §25).3 Since the spe-cific issue of the religious habit is intimately connected with bridal consecration, I will also discuss the significance of clothing in gen-eral and ecclesial directives specifically. I suggest that a religious woman's key ecclesial identity is that of bride of Christ and that the key sign of this is the veil. The church! How does one evoke the meaning of its mystery, the meaning of something so elusive and paradoxical and yet so beautiful and evocative? Acknowledging that an image supports and illustrates some aspect of truth, the church describes itself in metaphor. The Second Vatican Council drew upon the rich trea-sury of images in Sacred Scripture. According to Lumen gentium, the church is a sheepfold, a tract of land, a choice vineyard. The church belongs to Christ as people, body, and bride (LG §6). Vatican II, with its interpersonal understanding of the church as the people of God, signaled a turning point in its history, casting a warm light on the image of the church as bride (see LG §9). Biblical Foundations From the biblical perspective, bridal and marriage imagery is September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ incredibly rich, yet in recent decades this perspective has been prac-tically lost.4 Beginning as a whisper in the history of Israel, this image rises later in prophetic cries, to be echoed eventually in the Gospels and in apostolic teaching. This image of Christ as bride-groom of the church was prepared for by the prophets, especially Hosea and Isaiah, and announced by John the Baptist (see Jn 3:29). Jesus referred to himself as the "bridegroom" (Mk 2:19). The Catechism of the Catholic Church reinforces the theme and reminds us that the Scriptures speak of the whole church, and of each of the faithful members of his body, as a bride "betrothed" to Christ (§796). Significantly, the last image of the church in the Bible is bridal. The Apocalypse is replete with marriage symbolism: "The marriage of the Lamb has come" (19:7; see Ep 5:25-27). The new Jerusalem is "a bride adorned for her husband" (Rv 21:2-3), a city whose meaning is revealed in bridal language: "the bride, the wife of the Lamb" (21:9-22:5). The final use of bridal imagery is in Revelation 22:17: "The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come.'" The wife, on the day of her wedding, is recognized by her bridal gown. In that attire she is the bride. The gown is the "righ-teous deeds or works." All these texts mirror the church's rela-tionship to .Jesus. The language is about reciprocal love, love for him who is "the first love" (Rv 2:4). The Vision of John Paul II John Paul II understands the church in such personalist terms. He consistently uses the distinctive language of relationship, trini-tarian communion, covenant fidelity. The church is a mysterious living reality that becomes fruitful by its bridal relationship to Christ, who loved the church and gave himself up to mak~ her holy. Being overwhelmed by and responding to love--that is at the heart of the mystery. It is a description of a people called to identify passionately, deeply, with the mission of Jesus. While often ignored in current scholarship, the image of the church as bride of Christ is clearly declared in Scripture and is reaffirmed by the magisterium through the ages. Because it gets to the heart of the church's nature, this image can help (beyond any nostalgia or romanticism) in our discussion of the ecclesial identity of conse-crated women religious. Vatican II provided consecrated life with a splendid theologi-cal framework for understanding its place in the church (LG ~6).5 Review for Religious Recent ecclesial documents also offer a theological vision of the consecrated life within the mystery of the church. The symbolic and transformative role of the consecrated religious is at the heart of the church. The 1994 synod of bishops identified the common reality unifying consecrated persons: "the call to total self-giving to God; love for Christ the teacher, Lord, and bridegroom of the church, who is intimately followed and served above everything; and the decision to live according to the Spirit.''6 Even a superficial reading of Vita consecrata reveals John Paul'S appreciation of the gift of consecrated life as a special manifestation of the "striving of the whole church as bride toward union with her one Spouse" (VC §3). But, more than simply reflecting on the revelatory dimensions of the image in terms of the whole church, the pope provides a marvelous insight. He speaks of conse-crated persons expressing "their spiritual fruitfulness by becoming receptive to the word, in order to contribute to the growth of a new humanity" (vc §34). This perspective undoubtedly flows from his deep conviction that the world desperately needs to reappropri-ate the reality of spousal communion. The focus is sharpened by these words: "Tl~e church can in no way renounce the conse-crated life, for it eloquently expresses her inmost nature as 'bride'" (vc §105). This is not a matter merely of pious sentiment or lit-erary style, but of theology. The point is central for religious because it is a question of identity. References to this theme pervade this papal exhortation. John Paul says (vC §19), "The consecrated life becomes a particularly profo~and expression of the church as the bride who, prompted by the Spirit to imitate her spouse, stands before him 'in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish'" (Ep 5:27). This finds a special emphasis in an extended section titled "The Living Image of the Church as Bride." The pope writes: "In the consecrated life particular impor-tance attaches to the spousal meaning, which recalls the church's The image of the church as bride of Christ is clearly declared in Scripture and is reaffirmed by the magisterium through the ages. September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ duty to be completely and exclusively devoted to her Spouse, from whom she receives every good thing. This spousal dimension, which is part of all consecrated life, has a particular meaning for women, who find therein their feminine identity and, as it were, discover the special genius of their relationship with the Lord" (//C §34).7 Eloquence of the Liturgy The liturgical "Rite of Religious Profession for Women," a public prayer, incorporates spousal language,s Candidates to be professed respond to the specific question "My dear sisters (daugh-ters), what do you ask of God and of his holy church?" by saying, "We ask for perseverance in following Christ our bridegroom in this religious community all the days of our lives" (§59). Presentation of the veil is accompanied by the following exhorta-tion: "Receive this veil, which proclaims that you belong entirely to Christ the Lord and are dedicated to the service of the church" (§34). The solemn blessing or consecration of the professed is replete with references to the church as bride: "Father in heaven, ¯. you make the human family your bride . When your bride, deceived by the evil one, broke faith with you, . . . the world's Redeemer . . . formed the church into his bride, loving it with love so great that he gave himself up for it" (§72). This richly sug-gestive theme is emphasized and expanded in a beautiful section: "Father, in your loving wisdom you have singled out many of your daughters to be disciples espoused to Christ and to receive the honor of his love. Holy church shines with their rich variety, a bride adorned with jewels . Strengthened by the vows of their consecration, may they be always one with you in loving fidelity to Christ, their only bridegroom" (§72). After the blessing the newly professed come to the celebrant, who gives the ring to each: "Receive this ring, for you are betrothed to the eternal king; keep faith with your bridegroom so that you may come to the wedding feast of eternal joy" (§73). Indeed, St. Mnbrose, writing in the 4th century, crystallizes the idea in five words: Virgo eft quae Deo cubit (a virgin is a woman who has married God). The rite and all its parts are instantly, theologically expressive of the mystery and event being celebrated. What the church understands about reli-gious consecration--its unique public, ecclesial, nuptial, eschato-logical identity and character--is precisely what the rite of Review for Religious profession says and celebrates. Although persons participate in the rite only once, it continues to define and guide them all their life. The mystical, ascetical, and apostolic dimensions somehow coalesce in the dynamic of this profoundly relational image of "disciples espoused to Christ. their only bridegroom" (§72). A Call That Began with Baptism Two presuppositions provide a framework for further dis-cussion. First, inserting the theology of consecrated life into the sacramental dimensions of the church, Vatican I! highlights its relationship with baptismal consecration and its demands.9 Some Christians are invited to deepen that consecration, to manifest that baptismal light with a particular intensity. In the response to the call of consecrated life, this discipleship becomes a public profession to live the gospel, a prophet-ically public witness, an all-encom-passing commitment. Attempts to accommodate, to make religious more like lay people, are detrimental to the church. When the distinctiveness of this vocation becomes blurred, role clarity suffers. Second, the radical nature and meaning of religious life needs to be proclaimed and clarified, not only in descriptive ecclesial documents such as Perfectae caritatis and Vita consecrata, but also in the personal conviction of those committed to it and in the shining witness of their day-to-day lives. Living in community and practicing the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience challenge the assumptions of the culture. The human goods of marriage, possessions, and self-determination are put into a fresh perspective. VCithout an appreciation for the mystery--a love for the way in which religious consecration takes hold of the very depths of one's being--the fruitfulness of the vocation will be compromised. The radical nature of religious life is threatened by a growing secular-ization, a cultural assimilation. By consecration women religious are established in a new relationship to Jesus Christ, a specifically nuptial one. The veil publicly proclaims the existence of this nup-tial bond, the external sign of an internal reality The radical nature of religious life is threatened by a growing secularization, a cultural assimilation. September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ Norms of the Church Commenting on canon 669, the one canon in the 1983 Code that directly concerns the religious habit, McDonough carefully delineates its spiritual and ascetical functions: "The habit is con-sistently understood to be indicative of a way of life with both transcendent and immanent consequences. Its purpose is to point ~o the value of something beyond this material world while it simultaneously communicates something of import about the very real circumstance of this material world."9 It heralds a commit-ment to witness to the permanent things in a culture numbed by materialism, sensualism, and contempt for the sac~ed. Many religious communities, with goodwill and intent, do indeed follow the canon's directive and wear a form of habit, but the current practice often omits the veil or makes it optional. Many women religious wear various kinds of secular clothing, from skirts and blouses and hand-me-downs to highly fashionable suits and dresses, complete with jewelry and other accessories. Several neg-ative consequences result. The great diversity of charisms among communities of religious is now lumped into one bland group of "generic church workers." The distinctive concrete "sign" of con-secration is diminished if not lost. A habit that lacks a veil is a diluted public witness, an ambiguous sign. Without the veil, how do people recognize us as religious? Even more, how do people recognize us as members of a unique group of Franciscans or Dominicans or Sisters of Charity? We become "The Anonymous: The Sisters without a Sign!" The veil is important for giving witness to the ecclesial nature of religious identity, to its "bride of Christ" symbolism. Recall the words of Vita consecrata: Consecrated life "eloquendy expresses" the church's nature as "bride" (see §105). Today public witness is iron-ically diluted precisely when the visual, the highly visible, is needed. The veil communicates a sense of dynamic purpose as well as a sense of unity and esprit de corps. Silent Language That Sparks Imagination Some cultural background about the nature of clothing may help here. Throughout history, clothing has served many purposes. According to the insights of those who specialize in these matters, "clothing serves as a means of communication. To the person who is knowledgeable about a particular culture, clothing is a sort of Review for Religious silent language." t0 Rebecca Cunningham's Magic Garment offers a striking insight. A special garment "helps concentrate the powers of imagination, expression, emotion, and movement into the cre-ation and projection of a character to an audience."tt This asser-tion that "clothing is a sort of silent language" is born of experience. The idea is expressed in the 1994 synod's working paper: "Many ask that women and men religious give a silent proclamation of their consecration through wearing the habit of their institute" (§86). The symbolism of the veil has somehow been embedded: it persistently suggests "bride." It bespeaks, quite specifically, a carefully constructed world of meanings and com-mitments. The veil, connoting exclusive love, intimacy, and unre-served self-gift, has been recognized for centuries as a sign of betrothal to Christ (in imitation of Roman marriage customs). It was an integral part of the liturgical ceremony of consecration as early as the 4th century,t2 In fact, for centuries there were no rit-ual words of profession; one "took the habit" or "put on the veil." t3 The concept, the "habit of being," of women religious as "bride of Christ" is manifested in two ways: the interior geogra-phy of the heart shaped by the practice of the evangelical coun-sels and the public symbol of the veil proclaiming spousal union with Christ. Vita consecrata says: "Their lifestyle too must clearly show the ideal which they profess, and thus present itself as a living sign of God and as an eloquent, albeit often silent, procla-mation of the gospel" (vC §25). Perhaps this is what many of the faithful are struggling to articulate when they see a religious with a veil and say: "I'm so glad to see a religious in a habit. Thank you" or "There is a real sister." Here, I believe, the practical and pastoral import of the veil comes to the fore. People are not mak-ing a judgment about the moral state or holiness of the religious, but rather recognizing her ecclesial identity and role, affirming the public witness of her vocation. Just what, precisely, prompts such remarks? When do these comments occur? At the sight of a simply dressed woman wearing a little cross or a medal or some kind of pin? No. It is precisely the veil which evokes the response. Indeed, it is through this visible symbol that identity is affirmed and meaning maintained. Recall, too, that in Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37) the man who needs care represents "everyman" precisely because he lacks the two human means of specific identification. He is unconscious and so cannot speak. He is stripped of the clothing Septewtber-October 2000 Galligan * Bride of Christ that communicates something about identity. Have contemporary religious in some way become speechless and stripped? A Culture in Need of a Visible Sign Vita consecrata is direct and straightforward: "The church must always seek to make her presence visible in everyday life, espe-cially in contemporary culture, which is often very secularized and yet sensitive to the language of signs. In this regard the church has a right to expect a significant contribution from consecrated persons, called as they are in every situation to bear clear witness that they belong to Christ" (VC §25). Distinctive attire is a way to respond to the church's challenge. The veil serves as a gracious irritant, an explicitly prophetic sign. Although Western moder-nity is inhospitable to the transcendent, the full habit visibly and powerfully conveys an eschatological message "to the people of God here and now, even--or perhaps especially--to many who might otherwise have neither a ready understanding of nor an easy access to the spiritual import of eternity." ~ In contemporary sec-ularized culture, where the external signs of sacred realities tend to vanish, people must be able to recognize the consecrated woman religious, this bride of Christ representing the church. Attire is an unequivocal sign of dedication and identity, a "way that their con-secration is recognizable" (vC §25). It assumes a public represen-tational function.Is Whose She Is The primary meaning of the word habitus is a condition, a state, a pattern of behavior, a quality of nature or character. The nature of the consecrated religious is essentially bridal. In keeping with her ecclesial and personal identity, the bride of Christ provides visible witness most specifically and completely by wearing a veil. This external practice announces and reaffirms her identity, not only who she is, but Whose she is and what she aspires to be. It acknowledges a passionate love, ever deepening into conscious communion, which gradually becomes the ruling "habit of life." Consecrated religious, in both their personal and their corporate lives, are meant to be identifiable. In a society increasingly needing an appreciation of the tran-scendent, in our secularized post-Christian culture, consecrated Review for Religious religious are called to speak and act in evangelical, bold, and imag-inative ways. Where do we stand? Will we manifest a dash of dar-ing, a truly radical "habit of being," through the practice of the vows and through the external sign of religious consecration? Cogent questions perennially confront those on the road of reli-gious consecrktion. These are such cogent questions. In the conclusion to Vita consecrata, John Paul does not flinch from proclaiming: "You have not only a glorious history to remem-ber and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished!" (vc § 110). In short, can a dedicated corps of consecrated religious women rise out of the current mass of "generic" church workers, out of the paralysis of an ambiguous identity, to provide joyful, courageous witness to the Bridegroom and to his bride, the church? Will the "habit of our being" affirm a full and faithful witness? For, indeed, this "corrective measure"--an internal un.derstanding of our personal identity as bride of Christ and its outward sign, the veil--will clearly reveal that we are caught up in a love affair, passionately proclaiming our love for God and his people. Notes ~ Elizabeth McDonough OP, "The Need for Self-Criticism," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June 1999): 251 and 256. See also David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, "Affiliative Decline and Role Clarity," in their Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993), pp. 248-249. Or see their "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272; available also in Review for Religious 52, no. I (January- February 1993): 6-55. 2 McDonough, "Need," p. 259. 3John Paul II, apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, 1996. Henceforth this will be referred to in the text as 4 Further insights and expanded development of this may be found in Geoffrey Preston OP, Faces of the Church (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997). Chapter 8 explores the "Bride of Christ." Raymond Orlund Jr.'s book Whoredom: God's Unfaithful Wife in Biblical Theology (Eerdmans, 1996) explores the theme of spiritual adultery, delving into scripture pas-sages that describe human violations of God's covenant with Israel in marital and sexual terms. See also Gilberte Baril, The Feminine Face of the People of God: Biblical Symbols of the Church as Bride and Mother (Slough, U.K.: St. Paul, 1991; also Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). 5 "This constitutes a special consecration, which is deeply rooted in their baptismal consecration and is a fuller expression of it" (Perfectae caritatis, §5). See Lumen gentium, §4, and all of chap. 5, "The Call of the L49 i Septentber-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ Whole Church to Holiness." 6 Vatican Synod Secretariat, "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World: Working Paper for October 1994 World Synod of Bishops," Origins 24, no. 7 (30 June 1994): 97-138. Christ is described as "bridegroom" in several other passages: §18, §48, §111. 7 John Paul II's new orientation is perhaps best summed up in the priority which the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§773) accords the Marian dimension over the Petrine dimension in the church, in the order of holiness. Keenly conscious of the unique role of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the history of redemption, the pope presents a link with the New Testament passage that portrays Mary with the Apostles (Ac 1:13-14). "We can see here a vivid image of the church as bride, fully attentive to her bridegroom and ready to accept his gift . In Mary the aspect of spousal receptivity is particularly clear; it is under this aspect that the church, through her perfect virginal life, brings divine life to fruition within herself" (vc §34). Consecrated women religious are "called in a very special way to be signs of God's tender love toward the human race and to be special witnesses to the mystery of the church, virgin, bride, and mother" (VC §57). The image is biblically, theologically, and pastorally appropriate. 8 International Commission on English in the Liturgy, "Rite of Religious Profession during Mass," in The Rites of the Catholic Church, Vol. 2, approved by NCCB and confirmed by the Apostolic See (Collegeville: A Pueblo Book, Liturgical Press, 1991), pp. 247-285. The sectitn numbers given in parentheses in this paragraph refer to this rite on these pages. 9 Elizabeth McDonough OP, "Habit and Habitus: Current Legislation," Review for Religious 56, no. 6 (November-December 1997): 652. ,0 Phyllis G. Tortora and Keith Eubank, Survey of Historic Costumes (New York: Fairchild Publications, 1994), p. 3. n Rebecca Cunningham, The Magic Garment: Principles of Costume Design (New York: Longman, 1989), p. 1. ~2 McDonough, "Habit," p. 654. ~3 According to the Rule of St. Benedict, profession was to be made both orally and in writing, but not necessarily for validity. Benedict knew nothing of the juridical concept of such "validity." It is worthwhile to note the role of the habit in the tradition. Since the Council of Trent, reli-gious profession in order to be valid must be expressed orally. At the time of Gratian, however, profession made tacitly was taken to be true profession. Some clear fact or deed was taken to be religious profession, usually to assume the monastic habit. Gratian says nothing of the neces-sity of profession. Instead he speaks of entry into religion in a precise con-crete way. He uses the terms "monasticum habitum sume~e" (C17, q2, c3) and "habitum religionis sumere" (C20, ql, cl). The veil (cowl for men) was an integral part of the liturgical ceremony of consecration as early as Review for Religious the 4th century. In fact, for centuries there were no ritual "words," no vows formally articulated. Historically, ecclesial recognition, the sign of betrothal to Christ, was usually expressed by someone's "taking the veil." 14 This notion is emerging in new literature that speaks of religious garb. See Harry J. Byrne, "Ecclesiastical Garb," America 180, no. 21 (19-26 June 1999): 22. The author notes that the U.S. bishops in their November 1998 meeting decreed that "a black suit and the Roman col-lar are the appropriate attire for priests, especially in the exercise of their ministry." The Directory for the Life and Ministry of Priests (1994) is straight-forward: "In a secularized and materialistic society, where the external signs of sacred and supernatural realities tend to disappear, it is partic-ularly important that the community be able to recognize the priest, man of God and dispenser of his mysteries, by his attire., which is an unequivocal sign of his dedication and his identity as a public minister" (§66). The directory also states that, "outside of entirely exceptional cases, a cleric's failure to use this proper ecclesiastical attire could man-ifest a weak sense of his identity as one consecrated to God." 15 The French theologian Louis Mari Chauvet (Symbol and Sacrament, Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1995) says that symbol as a language of recognition is "the foundation of the identity of the group and the indi-vidual" (p. 5) and that symbol "becomes the agent for recognition and identification between subjects." Chauvet affirms silent communication too: the act of symbolization carries out the "essential vocation of lan-guage" (p. 130). The veil is both self-referential and proclamatory. Thus the consecrated woman religious should be identifiable primarily through personal holiness, but also by a manner of dressing that makes visible to all the faithful, indeed to all people, her specific role in the church. The attire serves as a mediating reality in the construction of authentic iden-tity. It demands personal and communal "habits of being" so that its meaning does not erode and so lose its compelling force. Peter and the Servant Girl The servant girl asked of him, "Aren't you he who was with Jesus?" Curiously she looked in his eyes, did not accuse, for who has not felt fear? And who was she? No true believer, but one who serves, and serving knows not all our masters are deserving. She looked again at him who was afraid and left to seek the one whom all betrayed. June A. Kramer September-October 2000 a way of living MARIE BEHA Work in Such a Way "Work in such a way as not to extinguish the spirit of prayer and holy devotion to which everything else should be subservient." That is what St. Francis of Assisi and St. Clare wrote in their respective Rules for the Friars and the Poor Sisters (RC1 7,2). Nice, I thought, but what does it mean? More important, how do I do it? For some reason I found those words repeating themselves over and over again in my heart as I went about my work that day and the next and the next. I always "suspect" the action of the Spirit when some-thing like this happens, so I began to hold this challenge against the reality of my everyday experience. After all, I had lots of experience working, doing all kinds of things. In fact, activity had been the focus of most of my efforts to hasten the coming of God's king-dom. I knew something of its risks, as well as its chal-lenges and the immediacy of its motivation. But somehow this was different. It soon became clear, that I needed to emphasize four words: "working in such a way"; the focus was less on what I did and more on how I did it. That was lesson number one. Kinds of work, hours devoted to it, or even levels of accomplishment--con-cerns which had dominated most of my previous reflec- Marie Beha osc writes once again from the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Review for Religious tions--were too task oriented. Whatever Francis and Clare were talking about, it was something more. I passed on to "the spirit of prayer." I began reflecting on familiar experiences of bringing work into prayer, of how my work had often provided the raw material for some of my most urgent prayers of petition. I .easily recalled times when I had spent whole periods of formal prayer begging for the needs of those with whom I worked. On other occasions most of my prayer was preoccupied with fervent requests for personal divine assis-tance. When I felt especially unable to accomplish what I really needed to do, then I got down to serious praying! "God, come to my assistance!" But it was also true that sometimes, in fact way too often, work spilled over into my prayer time, threatening the possibility of any prayer at all. Sometimes a task that I had decided to com-plete chiseled away at my time for prayer; I began late or at least without allowing myself a moment to just be and transition into a more reflective stance. I was still back "there" at whatever I had been doing, even when my body had arrived "here." At other times I deliberately shortened my time for personal prayer because "there is so much to do." Granted that there were circumstances when shortened prayer time had to be the only loving responses to the urgent need of others, but honesty compelled me to admit that this was not usually the case. Then it dawned on me that shortened prayer time was one of the ways my spirit of prayer was being extinguished by work. I began giving myself permission to let my periods of formal prayer be as much a "full-time" occupation as any other of my concerns. It was a start, but by no means an easy discipline. I soon discovered how proficient I had become in rationalizing the urgency of my work load. Too often I was more driven by self-imposed standards than by charity or the reality of the situation. It was my need to accomplish something that compelled me tofin-ish whatever I had set out to do. Achievement motivated me to surpass last week's goals; that was why I worked overtime. Working provided the self-satisfaction of knowing I had done something, maybe even done it well. Others were grateful. At least I was pleased with myself. To my embarrassment I discovered how often I named this a "good day" because"I got so much done." Or, conversely, I complained in frustration, "I didn't get a single thing done today." I could not even recall the last time I had fallen September-October 2000 Beba ¯ Work in Such a Wa~ asleep telling myself how happy I was that I had been able to pray well or work prayerfully that day. With this realization came others. (The Spirit was beginning to work overtime.) Maintaining a spirit of prayer even during times of formal prayer was more than just hard work. Exposing myself to the Spirit of Truth was risky; disciplining and quieting my busy mind was harder still. I would rather have done almost anything else. Too often I did; such escapism surely ran counter to a spirit of prayer. But there was still more. I returned to the original challenge of "working in such a way as not to extinguish . " Francis and Clare seemed to focus less on what happened at times of prayer and more on manner of working. That was realistic. After all, most of us spend more time working or doing other things than praying. How could I work more prayerfully? I tried to recall some things I had been taught many years before about "being recol-lected." After searching around in my mental attic, I remembered something about saying ejaculations while working and the incred-ible example of a certain Jesuit priest who said literally thousands of ejaculations even while ministering in the trenches during World War I. In a period of early fervor, I had tried the practice myself, but had never gotten the hang of it at all. In fact, I felt myself breaking out into a rash at the very thought; such split-level exis-tence was not for me! And I doubted very much that it was what Clare or Francis was suggesting. Once more I returned to my original question: What does it mean to work in the spirit of prayer? I continued to keep my focus not on my prayer but on my work, and the beginnings of an answer slowly emerged: I worked prayerfully when I worked lovingly. Of course. The "spirit of prayer" had to be the work of the Holy Spirit, "the Spirit praying in us with unutterable groaning," espe-cially "when we do not know how to pray as we ought" (Rm 8:26). And that Holy Spirit was God's love "dwelling within" (Rm 8:9). What extinguished my prayer was also what extinguished my love. Examined experience proved the truth of these .reflections. When I failed to "love" my work, rushed through it, did it care-lessly, pushed it aside as soon as I decently could, both work and the spirit of prayer suffered. When my work was less gift given to others and more self-serving gratification, any possibility of prayer-ful work was extinguished. When the bitterness of critical think-ing, harsh judgments, impatient murmuring, ran counter to Review for Religious whatever I was doing, I was neither loving nor praying. And in most instances I was so caught up in my own limited concerns that I was not even working very effectively. But, when I worked lovingly, a quiet reverence, a peaceful pres-ence, transformed any and all of my labors. I was careful without being so care-filled that anxiety replaced trust. I could give myself to whatever most needed doing if I kept my focus in the present and not turned toward the need to accomplish as much as possible. Even when the list of necessary tasks got longer and longer, I found that I was more at peace if I set pri-orities rather than driving myself to get it all done now. My charity was more needed than the accom-plishment of what I had predetermined to do. Being focused on whatever I was doing began to make a critical difference. I became more aware of just how I was going about my labor, rather than concentrating solely on the task itself. As awareness opened up space within, I found myself faced with choices. Somewhere between being lazy and being a . workaholic lay the balance of saving grace. Self-gift rather than self-satisfaction seemed to hold one key. When my focus was more on God at work in whatever needed doing, rather than on what I wanted to do, I could relax. I was