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Transcript of an oral history interview with John H. "Jack" Pimm, conducted by Sarah Yahm in January 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. John Pimm was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1945; his education was interrupted by his military service in World War II. His interview includes recollections of both his time as a student at Norwich University and his service overseas during the war. ; 1 Mr. John H. "Jack" Pimm, NU 1945, Oral History Interview January , 2015 Sullivan Museum and History Center, Norwich University Interviewed by Sarah Yahm Transcribed by C.T. Haywood, NU '12 February 5, 2015 SY: Did that work? Is that comfortable? JP: Yeah. Sure. SY: Okay, terrific. [coughs] So if you could just start by telling me your full name. JP: My full name is John H. Pimm, P-I-M-M, SY: And you go by Jack? JP: Yeah, Jack is my— SY: And where were you born? And when you were born? JP: I was born on January 10, 1924, in Hamden, Connecticut, which is a suburb of New Haven, Connecticut. SY: Yup, I have driven through it, I think. And you know [coughs] something I've been asking everybody who's served in the military was did you play war as a kid? Did you think about going to war? Did you play out in the woods and pretend that you were fighting? JP: Well when I was, my dad got me a .22 single shot which I still have when I was nine-years-old, and I lived in a rural community so there were plenty of woods around and we didn't play war, we played hunting anything that'll move. We shot at woodchucks, squirrels, birds, everything. That was our sort of what we did. SY: So [coughs] how did you end up at Norwich? JP: Well, I graduated from Wethersfield High School in the class of '41, and actually my mother had her friend whose son went to Norwich. I looked at Norwich. I could've to the University of Connecticut or one of the options was I was thinking of going to Pratt & Whitney in the apprentice toolmakers group but I went to Norwich and I thought that was kind of neat so that's how I ended. SY: Yeah what about it did you think was neat? JP: Well I sort of—the military appealed to me, you know, and being in those days there was no superhighways it was a long drive or you went up on the Montrealer which went from Hart—I was living in Wethersfield, Connecticut at the time and that's the train that went through to Montreal and made stops in Northfi—they would stop in Northfield if there's anybody who wanted to get off so. So that's how I happened to go there. SY: That train still exists. JP: It is still there? SY: [coughs] Yeah I've taken it, I've taken it from New York to Montreal.2 JP: Well ok, good. SY: So yeah, well what was your experience like at Norwich when you first got there? Do you remember your first impressions? Do you remember being a Rook and what that was like? JP: Well I was a little, you know I didn't realize that you went through one semester of hazing which you did and that was ah [chuckles] some of it was we thought pretty rough actually. There were a couple of the freshmen when they started getting hazing quit school, so but I thought it was just something you went through and actually some of the guys that were the worst hazers in the sophomore class became good friends after it was over, so. SY: What was the hazing like? JP: Well you had to wait on the upperclassmen. You had to drill every night. One of the exercises was standing with your back to the wall holding a rifle out in front where you thought you were going to drop dead. But that went on every night. And it's just the upperclassmen inspected your room, you know, and we stood reveille. Your bed had to be made by then and if you didn't make it tight enough you were screamed at, and they just tried to make it miserable which they mostly succeeded in doing. SY: Did you ever think about leaving? JM: No. SY: You didn't, why not? JP: I just thought it was part of the thing to do and I knew it was going be over so, you know. SY: And so when you think about Norwich now, what do you think about? I think you mentioned horses to me when you talked the other—? JP: Well it was the horse cavalry when I went there. They had 180 horses and you had riding lessons one day a week and then troop drill another day. You know there was roughly, what, 160 in a troop? And the lower field which I don't know what it is now but that used to be troop drill so that was pretty neat. They let us use the horses on the weekend to ride out into the mountains, and the hills around there for a couple of hours at a time. I had a particular horse, I remember her name was Lacey, that I used to ride and my, a buddy of mine his name was Ken Clary, he's since died, he and I used to ride weekends when we could. So it was kind of a fun thing. SY: And you said something about how you had to make sure the upperclassmen didn't jam your spurs? What happened? JP: Well when you were in troop drill of course you'd be four in line and you'd be in the middle and the favorite thing is upperclassmen, mostly the sophomores, would turn their spurs and try to jam 'em into your horse so that you'd, the horse'd leap forward you know and then when you'd leap, when the horse leaped forward they'd holler at, "Get back in line," you know, so it was a favorite. SY: Did that ever happen to you? JP: Yeah. SY: Yeah. JP: Yeah, it was, it was at the time I thought it was pretty exciting but it was different, let's put it that way. 3 SY: Yeah, so, do you remember where you were when you heard about Pearl Harbor? JP: Ah, well I'm sure I was in, I can't tell you the name of the place but it was on the in the barracks where we were when I heard about it, yeah. Newspapers were not something handed, we had to, I—we had to be told about by somebody else so… SY: You didn't have radios either? JP: No. We didn't have radios either. SY: So you weren't getting any news? JP: No. I remember the most exciting thing about it was that the, commandant at the time I can't even remember what his name was but he used to. We had guards all night. I don't know what we were guarding, anyway but and they carried .45s, the standard issue .45 and when Pearl Harbor happened they issued ammunition for the first time and that I guess what happened is some guy got up to go to the john and the guard said you know, "Halt, where you are," and he said, you know, "Screw you," and the guy fired a shot in the air and the next day they took all the ammunition away. That was the last time. SY: Yeah, I bet they did, JP: Yeah that was the last time that happened, yeah, SY: Yeah, I bet it was. So okay, so at that point you probably knew you were going to war? JP: Well yeah, they hadn't, they announced the draft after that you know and we had to register. Everybody who was eighteen had to or over up. I think they registered eighteen to thirty-five. SY: So did you go down to Northfield to register, did somebody come to campus? JP: I honestly don't remember where we registered, yeah. SY: But then, but you decided you're going to enlist, right? Or the whole school did, how did that work? JP: Ah [chuckles] I remember the date, it was September 14, 1942 they marched us all down the Armory and said, "You're enlisting in the Army," and we did, that was it. SY: How did you feel about it? JP: Well everybody else was doing it so you know. Being eighteen you knew you'd be one of the first to go. So I, you know, it's just part of what it was that's all. SY: Do you remember, I think that the Army also took the horses from Norwich and conscripted them, do you remember that? The horses being marched off campus? JP: No I don't. I don't remember when that happened. SY: I saw picture of it actually, JP: Oh really, SY: Just the other day, yeah. So okay, you enlisted and then what happened, where'd you go? JP: Well they, we enlisted and then we were called up and I had to report Fort Devens, Mass., from there. Let's see, we went by train to a camp outside of St. Louis where we went through a bunch of tests and orientation they called it and they shipped us up to the University of Nebraska in Lincoln and then, we're 4 here again. I was a mechanic in the Mechanical Engineering Department. The guys who were mechanical engineering and myself were shipped down to Columbia, Missouri to the University of Missouri there and we were bunked in the SAE House there on the University of Michigan. And there were four or five guys from Norwich, there was a lot of guys from the Michigan State there and oh we registered to take what we were supposed to take in engineering and the…the manger whatever you want to call, the dean of mechanical engineering found that we had taken the courses the Army wanted us to take. So he signed us up for our continuing education so we got to take courses that would have been in our junior year at Norwich. SY: Oh, that's exciting, JP: Yeah, so. SY: Yeah, so okay, so then, you were getting ready to ship overseas I would imagine? JP: No, we stayed there until the spring of '44 and then they disbanded that program. We were shipped to Camp Swift, Texas where, we were in entered, not all of us, most of went in different directions. Some of the guys went to infantry divisions, I went Camp Swift, Texas and was put in the 1252nd Combat Engineer Battalion. SY: And what does that mean, what were you guys gonna be doing in the war? JP: Well combat engineers you, we did all, in some cases we went in ahead of the infantry. We did river crossings, we did a lot of demolition work, I specialized in demolition learning how to use TNT and various other. You didn't have dynamite that was too too unstable, but we did a lot work with TNT and other type of explosive and I can't remember what it was. But other than that it was standard infantry. We did a lot of, [chuckles] we did awful lot of hikes, we did a lot of shooting, that's when you qualify. It was no big deal for me 'cause I shot a rifle my whole life and let's see. SY: And [coughs] so tell me about how you went over to Europe, JP: Well in, let's see. I think it was in the end of July, we were shipped by rail to, it took a couple of days to do it to Camp Kilmer, New Jersey from there Camp Kilmer, New Jersey is close to, close to New York, cross the Hudson River there and I remember they gave us, if you live nearby you were given a twenty-four hour leave, and this buddy of mine he actually lived in Des Moines, Iowa, but he said he lived in Connecticut so the two of us went to New York City and my mother actually came down to New York City and met us late and we had dinner at the Alm—at one of the, what do you call it, the Almanac's oh not Almanac…. SY: Oh where Dorothy Parker used to go, you were talking about the.I can't remember what that's called, JP: Automats, Automats that. SY: Oh one of the Automats oh… JP: Yeah, my brother, older brother who was a tail gunner in a B-24 his girlfriend who had gone through even in high school was a dancer in Broadway. She was dancing in Pal Joey with Van Johnson and can't think of the other guy's name. Anyway, we got to see her and see my mother for a minute and went back to camp. And then the next morning they took us to the 42nd Street Ferry in Wee… SY: 42nd Street Ferry? I've never heard of such a thing. 5 JP: In Weehawken, New Jersey on the, so we went to the 42nd through, street ferry and we took the ferry across to a dock and there we were surrounded by MPs 'cause they were afraid some of the guys would bolt and we were loaded. And interesting enough the 42nd Street Ferry, when I a kid, my grandmother lived in Weehawken, New Jersey and when my brother and I were like twelve and ten, ten and twelve. My dad would get us a dime each and we would walk down to the ferry and ride back and forth on it all day. So I, it's the same ferry that took us across to the, and the ship's name was the, it was an English troop ship called the Tameroa and the Tameroa you know we thought it was a dump but, we were, we left there went out by the Statue of Liberty, and joined a convoy. We went north I think and we picked up a convoy that I'm told was one of the largest convoys that ever went across. So this is in, I think it was in early August and… SY: Do you remember what you were thinking when you riding the Weehawken Ferry? When you were passing the Statue of Liberty, I mean you were what nineteen, something like that? JP: Let's see, I was twenty, I was an old one, SY: You were twenty, what did you remember what you were thinking when all that was happening? JP: Well, some of the guys kept thinking, do—will we come back or not? You know that was a little bit. SY: So you were thinking about that? JP: Yeah, yeah it was pretty, well you're with a bunch of guys so you know anyway, and I remember the convoy because we had four destroyers circling and escorting us on. I was told afterwards that two of the ships were sunk by the Germans, but I didn't know that at the time. It took us three weeks to get to England and that, what I remembered the food was horrible. For breakfast they had boiled bacon, have you ever heard of that? SY: No, I never heard that, JP: That was terrible, yeah, SY: Only the British could do something so terrible with bacon. JP: Yeah, and we landed finally at Southampton, England and from there we were trucked, or went by train to Torquay, which was on the southern coast, which was actually a, I learned afterwards was a resort area and we were billeted there. The Tameroa interestingly enough left us and was going someplace and was sunk two days after we got off at, which we saw was great 'cause we thought it was a worst piece of junk we ever rode in but, it was a very, you know, it was like a Liberty Ships, and it was, it was a pretty rough. I didn't go below, I was on guard duty four on and eight off so I was on from midnight till four in the morning and then noon to four with another fellow and, we were, it was our job to keep the aircraft gunners who sat in those special seats where there were two twenty millimeter cannon on each side of them to keep them awake, 'cause those guys would get in there and try to sleep, you know, so we had to keep them awake, that was our job. SY: What did you guys talk about for midnight to four in the morning on the dock of the ship? JP: Well actually the guy I was with had a beautiful voice and he would sing that song, "Lilli Marlene," SY: Ah, do you remember it? Do you want to sing a little bit of it? 6 JP: No, [laughs] but I have a record of it, with Marlene Dietrich. She sang in the English and in German, it was a German song too with the English. The English adopted it and there was a gal, an English gal by the name of Vera Lynne who sang it. We heard later, anyway. SY: And so he used to sing that? JP: Yeah he used to sing and that helped us keep us awake because we had to walk. We had a one set of guns that on one side and the other, on the other side, so that was… SY: You never went below deck 'cause it smelled so bad? JP: Yeah, there were too many guys, sick throwing up down there, so it was not very pleasant, yeah. SY: So how long were you in England? JP: Ah, well we were in England until December. They had a shortage of ammunition so I guess that's what's held us from going across the Channel and we went, so went across the Channel in December of '45 when the Battle of the Bulge started. SY: So describe that to me, JP: Well, we went back to Southampton we were loaded into a troop ship and taken across the English Channel and then they loaded us, we went off. They had these rope nets that went over the side down to what they call it an LCVP, landing craft, personnel and we went into a place above La Havre the beach. We were not under, we were supposedly under sniper fire but none of our guys that I knew got hit. And we landed in France and that was the start of our, we were involved with the, we were later assigned to the 6th Armored Division, Patton's group who who ah brought them up. Patton was originally, I think in southern France and he brought a column of tanks up to help on the Battle of the Bulge so we were involved in that. SY: So that was your first experience with combat, huh? JP: Yeah, I got to tell you the most exciting thing that I remember was New Year's Eve and on New Year's Eve the Americans with their artillery and all let go big time and big flares and the Germans did the same thing. So the sky was absolutely white there for a few minutes at midnight. SY: And and it was, was it like celebratory? I mean so that everybody celebrating. That's it's sort of like the Christmas Truce in World War I a little, right? JP: Yeah I don't think we were celebrating. I just thought that we—yeah we were celebrating, that we made 'till—to to January 1, 1945, yeah. SY: And they were too? JP: Yeah, right, so…. SY: Yeah, in that moment did you think about them as soldiers like you? Did you it humanize them a little bit? JP: Not really, SY: Not really, yeah? 7 JP: No, we 'cause we knew they were trying to kill us and we were trying to kill them. So it was real simple. SY: And it wasn't like the fighting stopped it was just that you—g JP: No, S: You looked at the skies for a few minutes? JP: Right, yeah, just tell everybody no, 'cause I can't remember wearing a watch or anything like that. SY: Right, so this was trench warfare, essentially, huh? You weren't— JP: Well we weren't in trenches we were in foxholes, SY: [coughs] So what was that like? JP: Well you'd dig, well you'd hoped you got in a fox, you, normally there were two of us together, you hoped you didn't get in with a guy that was too tall because you'd have to dig the foxhole too deep. But we were moved up to I think the Our River where we, we were very thin it was snow, we were doing this in the snow and I remember one time and the Germans were deadly with their mortar fire. We lost a lot of guys with that. SY: Yeah, JP: And you got a…. SY: Did you lose any close friends? JP: Yeah, one kid that I really, was in my squad and he was a pretty neat guy. Well he was a student from someplace in Iowa, and he went, I'm not sure. So in a particular mortar fire we both dove under a Jeep and he was hit in both legs and I wasn't and I remember he cruelly said, "Jack, I can't move my legs," and he said, "Give me my wound pills." So he carried what they call wound pills, which were sulfur type pill. Penicillin hadn't been discovered then. So we, I gave him sulfur and a drink of water to get it down and then the medics got him out of there. You got to appreciate there were no heli—the only reason way to guy who was wounded out was by stretcher to a point where you could put him on a Jeep the Jeeps had a, they'd take two, two stretchers in the front and two in the back and that's the way they got him back to the nearest aid station or field hospital. But I remember this one place where we were so thin that we would take the machine guns most of the air cooled, we did have water cooled guns too, and we'd fire bursts of them and then we'd run about fifty yards further up and fire 'em and try and convince the Germans there were a lot of us and there weren't, there were only us few. And they said, "You know, stop 'em if you can, if you can't they'll go through, so just let 'em go." So…. SY: How long were you fighting there? Was it a couple of weeks, right? JP: Yeah well yeah. Yeah I think the worst of it were over by the middle of, or the latter part of January. I remember one thing that I thought was funny afterwards is this other guy and I were in this foxhole and you could hear all this noise and we thought the whole German army was attacking us. And we were issued hand grenades and I threw I would say five or six hand grenades as fast as I could and then it all quieted down and the next morning when I looked out to see what happened and we killed a bunch of rabbits. So… SY: Huh, 8 JP: So… SY: Really? JP: Yeah… so, that was… SY: What did you think in that moment looking at the rabbits? JP: [laughs] I thought, those poor bastards, you know, SY: Right, right, JP: Yeah so…. SY: Oh my God, you guys you must have been terrified in that foxhole? JP: Well you got, you know, mostly you were cold. We had grabbed sheets out of the houses and tried to use them as camouflage over us because of to, blend in with the snow you know so. SY: Mhmm, JP: So, SY: Did you have, did you have enough boot—were your boots okay? Did you warm clothes or were you just freezing? JP: Well our clothing was pretty limited, we all had a blanket that we somehow wrapped up around us or tried to. The boots were, we had standard issue boots but it wasn't till later in January we were pulled back they gave us shoe packs that had rubber on the bottom, you know, the L.L. Bean type of shoe where our feet were then, then finally warm. There were a lot of guys that got frozen feet and loss—lost a couple of toes as long as you didn't lose your big toe, you were alright. SY: I was just gonna say, did they send you home for that or no? JP: No, no SY: No they didn't send you home for that? Huh, okay. So you never, you didn't get wounded during the Battle of the Bulge? But yet did you have, it sounds like you had some near misses though? JP: Yeah, I had some near misses, they, there was a lot of small arm fire and machine guns, the Germans have what they call a Burp gun which is probably a, which was fired faster. We were had the M1s where we had eight cartridge clips and you could fire as you could pull but the Germans had sort of an automatic weapon, I guess somewhat like a Tommy gun, but the Tommy gun was old, you know and heavy, so. SY: Was combat what you thought it would be or was it very different than what you'd expected? JP: It probably pretty much the way we had, you got to appreciate that we did, we shot, other than firing the machine gun through for effect our rifles we shot one we saw somebody to shoot at. We didn't just fire intermittently yeah. I see in the movies or the way they do now they fire bursts and stuff like that and general direction, we didn't do that. We fired at individuals who were firing at us so. It wa… SY: So that was what you, so was what you expected it was? JP: Yeah, yeah. We had been trained liked you know, part of our infantry training had been with bayonets so we were prepared to the fact that we'd have a close close warfare we never got to the point where we 9 had to use the bayonets and eventually it's something like, they gave us gas masks and we trained for gas masks a lot. And finally threw 'em away 'cause you got to get rid of anything that was too heavy to carry you know, so. SY: Right, I mean those were sort of World War I that they were sort training you a little bit for World War I? JP: Yeah right, SY: Yeah that makes sense. Do you remember what you would joke about to keep your spirits up if you sang and what you sang things like that? JP: No I don't remember much singing. SY: What about jokes? JP: Well there were a couple of guys that, and I don't remember what they were there were some guys that were really happier that other guys we had one guy we called, "Happy," and he was we thought a little nuts, he had come into our outfit as a replacement after being in the Aleutians so I thought you know how bad can it be. But and I had another friend in our platoon, I remember his name was Eddie Indamowicz and he had been in the Aleutians, came home, and was there forty-five days and sent our outfit as a replacement and thought how bad can it get, you know? SY: And what? JP: I said, I thought he had it as bad as here could get, you know? SY: Yeah, JP: Yeah, SY: Yeah. Hey did you have any good luck charms to keep you safe, things you would do, superstitious things you would do to keep yourself safe in battle? JP: No, I didn't have any of that. SY: You didn't have any of that. Okay, so then the Battle of the Bulge ended, do you remember the ending, do you remember the Allied victory? JP: No, no it wasn't like that, it's just that I remember one of the things was that there. Germans had a lot of horses and their tanks were much superior, their Tiger tank was much better than our Sherman tank, I thought and but they ran out of fuel and they used horses to try to aim their guns and the American artillery knocked, killed a lot of horses. So that it for a while everywhere you went as you went through you saw dead horses so. I didn't know they were good to eat at the time we were living on K Rations and K Rations and D Bars so yeah… SY: And did people eat them later? JP: Well horse meat is a standard fixture in Paris, in France yeah they eat 'em all the time. SY: So okay, so how did you, so how did it all end for you at the Battle of the Bulge? When did you, you guys kept walking right? Through Czechoslovakia and through Germany? 10 JP: Well we did a lot of. Part of our deal was clearing mine fields and clearing the roads ahead of the tanks. So we went ahead of the tanks to make sure they, the Germans had what the call a teller mine that would, they would plant and it was our job to clean them out before that time and so we did that under fire which wasn't too healthy. We were the outfit that helped breached the Siegfried Line which was the German pillbox line and under fire from the tanks. My job was to climb on top of the pillbox and use what they called a shape charge to blow a hole in it and then we'd drop grenades and try to kill all the Germans inside the pillbox, and then when they came out a lot of them, I didn't know one particular case which is a large pillbox they came out and with their hands up of course and except for the SS lieutenant who said he would not surrender so we killed him. But in one case there was a guy in our I guess he was 3rd platoon whose family was German and he spoke regular German and he went, we went into the pillbox and he got on the phone it was connected to other pillboxes and told them that he was a commandant for German and to surrender and we surprise, we were surprised that we had gone by a pillbox and hadn't even seen it was so well camouflaged and two guys came walking out that with their hands up. So we thought that unusual, yeah. SY: Wow JP: Yeah, SY: Wow, huh. JP: So. SY: Interesting, okay so, so you reached the Siegfried, the Siegfried Line. JP: Siegfried, yeah, yeah, SY: And then you just kept walking? JP: Well or on trucks or on the tanks, we rode on the tanks, too. We were involved with the Rhine and I think that was towards the end of March, right. I'm not sure of the dates here. It's been so many years ago. But I was in the first wave at Saint Goarshausen across the Rhine and they had given us motors to we took part of the 89th Division across and in the first wave we had some gun fire and not too much and got over and got into the town and then it was all rifle fire. I remember shooting a women that was firing at us and I don't know whether I killed her or not but anyways stopped firing. But the second wave in the second wave the Germans opened up from above one of those castles and I'm told they killed 100 guys. So it was a bloody thing, so… SY: Wow, yeah, JP: But we secured the town and slept in the German beds that night [chucklses] so it was good. And then it… SY: Really? JP: Yeah, then the next morning I got up and one of the guys came into me and said, "Jack, look there's a deer up there, about 150 yards away," and actually there are two of them and I shot them both and they came down the mountain and we had a guy who was a, knew how to butcher 'em. So we cut him into steaks and soaked them in red wine and ate 'em night, they were really good. SY: Mhmm….probably the best thing you'd eaten in a very long time? JP: Yeah, right, yeah. 11 SY: Yeah, yeah, what was the, what did the countryside look like that you were moving through? JP: Well, it was mostly, when we went through the German farms, and German's place, like that they, the German people came right out and repaired their their land because you know we kind of beat it up. They didn't, the French didn't seem to do that and I don't know, they had been at us so long that they thought it would continue to you know be messed up. But you know it was a lot of riding. I remember once riding in we were riding in six by sixes, trucks and we had a squad in each truck and we were strafed by a—they rode what they had what they call cat eyes on the front of us. Front of the truck where the enabled the driver to see the next truck in front of them and course you couldn't have headlights or anything like that. And we were strafed and they pulled over quickly and we all jumped out and ran as far away as we could but there were two guys who were replacements and they dove, dove under the trailer we were pulling and afterwards when it was over and we climbed back into the truck. They said, "You guys were crazy running like like that." And he said, "We jumped on this trailer." And he said, "Yeah but that trailer had 700 pounds of TNT in it." I said, "You'd gone to smithereens if they ever had." So in that particular thing they, their machine guns went through the windshield but right between the two guys that were riding there and didn't kill the other one. So I thought that was kind of different. SY: Wow, JP: Yeah, SY: So, so tell me about Buchenwald, JP: Well the concentration camp was freed by, I don't— either the 82nd Airborne or the 101st one of the first of those two airborne division. We came in afterwards and ah— SY: Afterwards, JP: Well it couldn't have been too long afterwards because the kilns were still hot where they cremated the bodies and there were wagon loads of bodies that had been gassed, just piled like cordwood on a thing. There were some gas… SY: It must have been there, just a day or two after the first Americans got there? JP: I'm sorry I didn't hear you Sarah. SY: I said, it must have been just a day or two after the first Americans got there? JP: Oh yeah, SY: If the bodies were still there, JP: Oh yeah the bodies were still there and the crem—the kilns were still hot too, so. There were guys skinny as could be and were had been that were prisoners there and we gave 'em our K Rations so they'd have something to eat you know they had, I think, and afterwards I heard that the general in charge of that section marched all of the people from Weimar which this is a town outside of the concentration down there to show what had been going on 'cause they acted like they didn't know what was, which I don't think was true. But… SY: I ah, yeah I've read that, I've read that too, that he made everybody— JP: Yeah, SY: Everybody from Weimar walked through 12 JP: Yeah, yeah, SY: And that somebody laughed and he made them all do it again actually. JP: Yeah, SY: He made them do a second tour. So did you, did you know what you were walking into before you got there? JP: No, SY: So how did you all figure out what was going on, do you remember your first thoughts? Do you remember what you said to each other? JP: We just couldn't believe it. We couldn't after all we had no knowledge of, you know our communications we had no communications we didn't know about the concentration camps or things like that and there was no newspaper or there was. You just went where you were told you know followed so forth. So I didn't have any particular, I thought it was horrible and just it added to hating the Germans a little more you know? SY: Yeah [coughs] how long were you there? JP: Oh just a matter of hours. SY: Really? JP: Then we moved on, yeah sure. There was nothing for us to do there, they were some of the other, I guess they moved in a soup kitchen and things like that to feed the people who were left and sorted it out, so…. SY: Did any of the inmates speak English? Did you have conversations with any of them? JP: No, no. SY: And the kilns were still hot, did you see smoke or had they…? JP: No they were just hot, they just were cooling down and so forth. They wanted cigarettes the prisoners you know we had cigarettes. We were issued a carton a week of cigarettes and then all the K Rations, these K Rations had five cigarettes in it so when we gave the K Rations they thought that was just unbelievable to have cigarettes. SY: Were they, were they smoking them or trading them? JP: Oh no, strictly smoking them, strictly smoking. SY: So you pulled out of Buchenwald [coughs] and did you talk about with each other? JP: Oh yeah, sure. SY: What you say? Do you remember the conversations? JP: No, not I remember, you know our whole thing was moving on, moving on. When we were, we were in Patton's Army and I remember back in I think in early February we were pulled back from the line and were put through we'd been in the same clothes since December and we obviously all smelled pretty well and what do you when sleep in the—eat, sleep, in the same clothes a lot and they had what they called a13 Shark, shower group and we would rack our equipment our arms and take off all our clothes and heave 'em into a bin and then you'd go into a, they had forty-eight showers set up and you got one minute a rinse, one minute a soap, and one minute a rinse again and that was it. And then you'd… SY: You probably still smelled? JP: Yeah and then you got all new— new clothes and I remember we had a, what would you call it a clipper that you could use in and we'd give each other's haircuts with this clipper to 'cause you know that was the only thing you could do and you know it was easier to have shorter hair under your helmets. SY: So what you do after Buchenwald? JP: Well, we moved on. Did a lot of clean up and with the tanks and so forth and actually we moved up for it and we were ready for a assault crossing, got across the Danube when in May when the war was declared over. So we moved on and they took us into a place called Ejar, E-J-A-R, Czechoslovakia and we built a bridge there over a railroad crossing or something like that, a bridge that would carry the tanks into that and we stayed there and then we were pulled back because the Russians took over that territory. Hey, can you excuse me a minute? I'll be right back. Oral history pauses, with background noise, and then resumes JP: Hi, I'm back, SY: Hi, you're back, JP I'm back, yeah that was quick, SY: Excellent, JP: Too much too much coffee, SY: Too much coffee, I know that problem. Okay, so it seems like we're getting to the end, close to the end of the war. So where were you on VE Day? JP: On VE Day we were in, I think we were in Czechoslovakia. We'd gone there, they stopped the fighting I think on one day and then couple of days later they it was it a fish hole. So we had moved into Czechoslovakia. Then let's see they moved us the Russians came and took over our positions in Czech and we moved back to Austria and actually we moved back and we had a deluxe accommodations which was a guest house which is a small hotel and we took it over and our platoon, and I remember another guy and I actually had a bed to sleep in and we had [airplane flies in background] you know by then they had ah they were set up with a cook, the cooks and all we had meals, real meals and all. SY: How long had it been since you'd slept in a bed? JP: Well [chuckles] a long time I guess since I was in England. SY: Since you were in England, JP: Yeah, SY: Wow. So [coughs] do you remember when, how did you hear that, how did you hear, about, the victory? 14 JP: Oh it came down from our headquarters they came through and told us all about it, you know it would get a platoon of us together and tell us you know the war was basically over as far as we were concerned. SY: And what would you, what did you do? JP: Well we thought that was great. I think we probably drank you know, we confiscated all kinds of wine and beer and liquor and we drank it all up. [chuckles] Yeah so that was it, SY: You probably had a big party, and so then, then what happened? So you know victory's been declared and the war is basically over it's over in Europe and so where'd they send ya? JP: They moved us back to Marcé and there our equipment was checked over. Some of the guys who had the highest points like the fellows who had been in the Aleutians were taken away from our unit and we had replacements come in and they told us basically that we were sailing for the Philippines. So we were actually on the boat, there were four boats in the group I was in. It's started out and I was in the last one to leave and we ran into a bad storm and they put us in back of the Canary Islands for a day that's what I heard anyway for the worst of it to get through and we were in the middle of the ocean when the war in Europe was declared over and but the first three boats in our group went through the Panama Canal to the Philippines and we were diverted into Boston we were had been scheduled to be a part of landing in Tokyo which was scheduled for November 1, 1945. So that we put… SY: And so you heard that the bomb had been dropped while you were on the boat? JP: Yeah, yeah, SY: Yeah and they announced that you? JP: Yeah, yeah, SY: Yeah, and that's why you got diverted to Boston? JP: Yeah, yeah, SY: Were you relieved? JP: Yeah, well in a way, I at the time we knew we were going to the Philippines but we didn't know. It was until fifty years later that we found out that we were part of the landing group into Tokyo. SY: How did you find it out? JP: Well they didn't release those orders until 1995 and a friend of mine who was with the 4th Marine Division who I still talk to he was able to get a hold of the orders and we found out that we were, the Philippines was where the gathering place for the landings were in that's where we were scheduled to go. The guys in…. SY: No idea that you were on your way? JP: No, SY: That's interesting, JP: No, no the guys that went through the canal all the way to the Philippines they ended up playing cards for three months and then they came and brought them back. So…15 SY: And you guys went to Boston, and what was it like when you arrived in Boston? JP: It was nothing we arrived at Boston, we went get—we were I think we took us to Myles Stand—either Myles Standish, or Fort Devens and were given thirty day leave and then we were on leave they gave us another thirty or forty-five days and then they told us to report back to. I was supposed to report back to Devens in the middle of December for discharge and I got back there and they said, "You got the mumps," so I was sent into the hospital and was there for three weeks and then was discharged the first week in January. SY: Was it hard to adjust to life back home? JP: Well it, you know all the guys I knew. Buddies of mine were same age bracket we'd all been in the service together so we you know, we were with them and actually when I got out of the service on a Thursday and my father worked for the Southern New England Telephone Company and he came home on Friday and said, "You have a job starting Monday." So I didn't have, so I worked for the telephone company and I had checked with Norwich and the semester started in February. So I went back to college in February and my, one of my old roommates there, his name was Ken Clary. He and I roomed together until he spoiled it and got married. Yeah and anyway…. SY: What was it like to back at school after having been at war? JP: Well we were, when we came back to Norwich we came back as civilians we did—we were not in uniform. They had a Cadet Corps but as far as we were concerned we were strictly there to complete our education and I lived for a while in one of the dorms and then we I moved I was in SAE and I moved to the SAE House for rest of the time I was there. SY: I've heard from other, from other things from other people and from things I've read that it was, it was kind of, that Norwich didn't seemed to be equipped for returning veterans? JP: No I would say that. They seemed they gave me so much credit so I had only had another year to go and my and they sort of rushed us through to get rid of us I felt. But that's alright. SY: Why do you think they did that? JP: Well they wanted to be back to their Corps of having you know a complete complete military again and that's what I thought anyway. But… SY: Did you consider staying in the military or going back in or were you done after you came back from the war? JP: Well you know my brother was a tail gunner in a B-24 he completed his fifty-six raids or fifty-four and the spring of '45 actually spring of '44 and he had been in same length of time as I had and we thought nah that you know what I was in couldn't couldn't get any better so and we talked about staying in but we both decided on hell with it let's get out of here. So then we did. SY: Yeah, both of you together? JP: Yeah, yeah, SY: So somebody described to me there was a basically like a trailer park off campus, where the vets lived? JP: Maybe they were the married vets but not, 16 SY: Married vets yeah, do you remember that or no? JP: I remember there was a, yeah there was some Quonset huts they built and they put hardwood flooring in them and a guy by the name of Bill Peck who was a friend of mine and I had been in actually he, Bill and I had been in University of Missouri together. Although I don't know where he went after that, he went to an infantry. But he and I went down there looking for a jobs and they said, "Do you know to put in hardwood flooring?" and Bill said, "Oh sure," and he didn't know either that's what we did and that was one of the jobs we had. SY: And that was where the married veterans lived? JK: Yeah, right, yeah, yeah, yeah, SY: Hmm…interesting, interesting. So how often do you, did you talk about the war? Did you talk about the war with your friends and family when you came back throughout the rest of your life? Or has it been something you didn't think about that much? JP: I really didn't think about it that much. Sometimes you know, some of it comes back to you but I was able to get it off my mind. I had other things to think about too. SY: Yeah. So tell me briefly about what you did after you graduated from Norwich? JP: Well after I graduated from Norwich, my dad wanted me to work for telephone company and I didn't want to do that 'cause I couldn't stand the manager that I talked to at the Bridgeport office. He had told me how he's start me at a certain salary and after six months I'd be reviewed and all this kind of stuff and be taken care of for the rest of my life. And that didn't appeal to me. And I had an uncle who worked for Hartford Empire who make glass making machinery and as an engineer I had an opportunity to go to Saudi Arabia but that you had to sign a two year contract and I didn't want to do that and actually the fellow that lived across the street from me was a guy by the name of Bob Keeeny, and Bob and I had grown up together from seventh grade or seven-years-old on and he but he had gone. He was going to Wesleyan University and had gone in the V whatever it is program there, had graduated and like June of '45 and then sent to San Diego and he was on the Indianapolis when it was sunk and he died on that. But his father owned this plumbing company, plumbing manufacturing company and he asked me if I wanted to come to work over there so that's where I started working and I started working selling for them and working as their in their sales management group. SY: And then you stayed in sales management for the rest of your career, right? JP: Yeah, well pretty much I went. I left that company and went to Bridgeport Brass Company and here again I was sale manager of the copper water division and the plumbing division and they decided they would move that division from Bridgeport, Connecticut down south for better wages and so forth and so I got to be the manager and we moved the company to Moultrie, Georgia which is fifty miles north of Tallahassee and I went down there with four of the guys we hired, set the company up moved all the machinery down from Bridgeport and hired 300 people. So it was down there for four years and from there I told them you know that I didn't want my kids living in the south. I had three kids and the schools are just, were, the day, the year we got there they added the twelfth grade to the high school and so they offered me a job working out of New York in their international division so I did that for three or four years I forget which yeah. SY: Excellent. So how do you think your time at Norwich influenced your later life? 17 JP: Well it's hard to say. I guess I guess one of the early things that, in Norwich you learned real quick to obey orders and that's one of the things that I [chuckles] kept with me all through the Army and even in business you learn to who is the boss and who is you supposed to tell. Do what they tell you, you know that type of thing. SY: Did you also learn how to be a leader? JP: I would say so, yeah, yeah. SY: And what about this idea of citizen soldier or service, is that something you think about or relate to as you're sort of gone through your life? JP: Well as opposed to the volunteers that they have now you mean? SY: Yeah, I mean I guess it's just—No I mean, not the actually opposed to that, I mean, I guess the premise of the citizen soldier of the founding of the school was the idea of people who were both educated and also in the military. So it's sort of combining the liberal arts, right? With the military training at the same time? JP: Well, I think that's, I think that the military training is something that you'll lives with you the rest of your life. My son's, son or his wife or present wife's has a son who is a senior in high school and thinking about going on to college obviously and he said he'd liked to work in the State Department and I suggested he go to Norwich because you know he would have to complete there and then be in the service for four years. But I thought, I said "that will be the best background you'll ever had for working for the State Department." And but after getting that information and finding that they get up at 5:30 every morning he was no longer interested in that. SY: [laughs] What about as you've gone through your life and watched the U.S. enter into other wars, how do you feel about your war versus the wars that followed? JP: I think our war was very different in that we had sort of lines of demarcation. We knew who the Germans and who were the Allies versus now. They seem to have people coming at 'em from different directions and coming across the Pakistan border and things like that. I think it's a very different, and the method of fighting is very different you know everything is automatic weapons, automatic weapons. We didn't have that stuff, it was more of an individual fight. SY: Hmm…interesting. JP: Yeah, SY: Well I don't' think I have any more questions for you. JP: Okay, SY: Is there anything you want to add in that you didn't get to talk about? JP: No I think we covered everything, yeah. SY: I think we've covered everything. You sound kind of tired too. I'm a little tired, we've been talking for a long time. JP: [laughs] Yeah, no yeah, I see it's almost 11:30 here yeah so. Well I appreciate the invite. How did— SY: Thank you so much for talking. 18 JP: Yeah, are you, will you have a recording of this, is that right? SY: Yeah we'll have a recording of this that we'll send you and then we'll also ah have a transcript that we'll send you. JP: Oh great, great, 'cause my son— SY: Listen to it and then if there's that something factually wrong or something that you want to keep private, you can tell me and then we'll edit that out. JP: Yeah, now— SY: So that's, so you'll getting stuff in the mail from me, JP: Yeah I didn't tell you any of the nasty stuff, so. SY: Oh yeah, why not? JP: Or any of the sexy stuff [laughs] SY: Any of the what? JP: Any of the sexy stuff, SY: Oh well those are all the important stories for oral history, you should tell me some of them now. [laughs] JP: I thought one of the things that was really interesting is that and course we went—and a lot of our training in basic was how to avoid getting social diseases, you know? SY: Right, JP: And the other thing was that the Army seemed to recognize that was the guys all needed to have their sexual relations and in Marcé in the Stars and Stripes they said there's 20,000 pros, plus 7 semi pros and amateurs here in town so. SY: So you guys on your time off would wander into town? JP: It was available yeah, so that's all. No other than that not too much. SY: That sounds great. And it was France? JP: Right, right, SY: Which was exciting for a young American man? JP: Yeah, yeah, SY: Yeah, JP: Right, SY: Yeah, were there any moments when you had real ethical dilemmas? Where you really struggled with something with an order that you didn't want to follow? JP: No, 19 SY: Something like that? No? JP: No, no I didn't have any of that, so. Anyways thank you so much for your interest. SY: Thanks for telling your story, I really appreciate it. JP: Okay, I'll look forward to it hearing from, SY: Okay, alright have a good day, JP: Thank you bye. SY: Bye, bye.

Transcript of an oral history interview with Maurice Homer Smith, conducted by Jennifer Payne at Colonel Smith's home in Northfield, Vermont, on July 30, 2013, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Maurice "Moe" Smith was a member of the Norwich University Class of 1934 from Morrisville and Hyde Park, Vermont. After graduating from Norwich University, he taught school in Barton, Vermont, for a couple of years before joining the Army and serving in the military from 1940 to 1956. He later returned to Norwich University as an employee, working many different jobs over eighteen years. At the time of this interview, he was Norwich University's oldest living alumnus at age 102. ; Page 1 Colonel Maurice Smith, NU 1934, Oral History Interview July 30, 2013 112 Winter Street, Northfield VT 05663 Interviewed by Jennifer K. Payne Transcribed by Lindsay J. Gosack, February 4, 2014 Edited by C.T. Haywood, '12, January 13, 2015 Jennifer Payne (JP): This is Jennifer Payne with Maurice Homer Smith. The date is Tuesday, July 30, 2013, and we're at his home at 112 Winter Street in Northfield, VT. So let me start with some of the basic questions. I know we've gone over some of this, but this is just for the people who will hear it for the first time. Um, which class, what are you, what is your Norwich class? Maurice Homer Smith (MHS): 1934. JP: And, ah, your date of birth? MHS: 26 July, 1911. [sound of a door opening and closing in background] JP: Which makes you? MHS: 102 JP: 102 MHS: [Chuckles] I'm being interviewed here, FRIEND OF MHS: Go ahead! MHS: Can you stand by? MHS: Sit down. [Introducing someone] This is my buddy. We play cribbage together. [Friend chuckles] FRIEND OF MHS: We met. MHS: Huh? FRIEND OF MHS: I said we've met. JP: We have met. [Moe chuckles] MHS: Oh you have? Oh I did not know that. JP: Um so, um, do you have any other names you are known by? Page 2 MHS: Uh [slightly clears throat] well Moe is most of the names. I, in the, in the three years I was in Japan I was called Hank 'cause when they asked me what my middle name was, which is Homer, it's ugly. That was my father's first name. So I said Henry, so they called me Hank. And so even the official Commanding General Yokohama command wrote me a letter and they knew they called me Hank so he addressed it (this was official mail): Major Henry Smith [laughs and coughs]. JP: So where were you born, Moe? MHS: I was born in Hyde Park, Vermont. JP: Were you born at home? MHS: Yes, yes, I was born at home, in the home. I guess most people were in those days, yup. JP: Yeah. MHS: Morrisville now has a hospital, has Copley Hospital, and if it had it then I'd have been born there in the Copley, but they didn't have it then. JP: When you were at school, what was your major? MHS: In college, [sighs] it was language was one. I had [clears throat] really three majors. You normally don't have three majors, but my academic advisor, K.R.B. Flint, told me, said, "You've got the equivalent of three majors." So there's language, which was Spanish, language, I think social, uh, history, and political science. So I had three majors. He said, "you have enough credit in each one of those to declare a major." So I had three majors. JP: Wow MHS: Normally you have a major and two minors or some combination. But, he said, "You got three majors." [laughs] JP: What was your… I know you've had a number of different jobs, but what do you consider your occupation? MHS: Well, I would say most of my life was the Army. I went in the Army full time. I was on, day one, I was in Fort Knox, was activated on June 15, 1940. And that's when the Armored Force came into being. I was there four days before that and the—I was assigned to the 37th Calvary Regiment, cavalry regiment. So when I got down there my advisor said, "Calvary is out, Armor is in." So he said, "get yourself a place to live, you can't live on the post, we don't have room for you." So I went to Elizabethtown, Kentucky, which is about seventeen miles from the post. And, uh, [laughs] what was I about to say though? JP: Your occupation was in the military.Page 3 MHS: Yeah, was in the military. So I've been in the military, well, sixteen years. I went in in 1940 and came out in '56. JP: Wow. MHS: So it was sixteen years. So I was going, at twenty years, you can retire in twenty years on fifty percent, so that's what I was shooting for. And I was in Chicago at the time and I wanted to stay in. And I liked it, I liked my job, liked my work, liked the people. And my mother called up and said, "If you want to come home," which I didn't want to do, and said, "Your father will sell his shares of the drive in theaters to you." So she wanted me to come home, and so I came home after sixteen years in the Army. And but I didn't really want to. And so I bought out my father's share of the Green Mountain Drive-in Theaters Incorporated and drive-in theaters. The largest one in the state was in Newport and then one in Morrisville. And so that's what I did. And then, then I came down to Norwich, and so but I still owned the theaters, but I took the dividends. I didn't work, never did work at the theaters, didn't have to, so I just took my dividends. At that time I think we got $10,000 a year, which is pretty good money, separate. So I had five incomes: Social Security, Norwich, and I'm full time at Norwich, what was the job I said I had? And I had five jobs either way. And so I had a pretty, pretty nice income, so I was living high on the hog. Sent Bill to Northeastern, my son. He didn't do anything, and he is smart enough to do it, but he didn't. He didn't like it. He came back. He said one semester and said, "College isn't for me." So he went off in carpentry and did his own thing. And that's what he wanted to do, so. JP: Wow. So why didn't you want to leave the military? MHS: I didn't want to leave the military, because like I said I had sixteen years and at twenty years you get two and a half percent a year. So if I stayed in for twenty years, I would have gotten, I was a colonel, I would have gotten fifty percent of a colonel's full pay. The maximum is 75%. You could stay in long enough to get 100%, but it stops at 75%. And I would have gotten four more years. I wanted to stay in, I did not want to get out, but mother wanted me to get out and so I did. But I, I…Chicago was my last duty station and so I think I made a mistake, but it doesn't make any difference. I probably made more money by getting out than I did by staying in, so [chuckles]. JP: So it was the money, it was the income, the plan, yeah. So you were born in Hyde Park and you moved to Morrisville as a youngster? MHS: One year, I asked my mother when we moved, she said, "you were about a year old when you [moved]." Hyde Park is only about three miles from Morrisville. I was born at Hyde Park and a year later, so I grew up in Morrisville. And graduated from Peoples. JP: Academy? MHS: Academy. JP: Yeah, how did you know, in high school, that you wanted to go to Norwich? Page 4 MHS: Well, I did not have any college picked out and my brother was at Norwich, and my folks were paying the way and they said, "You're going to go to Norwich." So I never questioned it because my brother was here already ahead of me. He was two years older than I was and he was already here at Norwich. And they said, "You are going to go to college, you're going to go to Norwich." My brother had two colleges he wanted to go to. One was Georgia Tech and the other one was University of Alabama, and the folks said, "You aren't going to either one of them. You're going to go to Norwich." So my brother was here and my—the three of us, only five of my graduating class at Peoples, and three of us came to Norwich. And so I guess I was destined [laughs] to be a, a graduate of Norwich. JP: So your brother's, your brother's name was…? MHS: Phillip. JP: Phillip. And he was class of…? MHS: He was, well he would have been, he took a, he was four years ahead of me but he took a PG course in high school so he lost a year there. He was really two years ahead of me. He was two years older than me so two years ahead of me. And we both went to, he went to Norwich too, my brother did. But he didn't graduate. We'd have the quiet hours from 7:30 [P.M.] to 9:30 [P.M.], and at 9:30 we could, all hell would break loose in the barracks. The whistles would blow and we would get dragged into our holes, and dragged into your hole, we would get in our rooms and it was quieted down and during study hours it was very quiet and, uh, I don't know what brought that on. What were we talking about? JP: Your brother, your brother being ahead of you at Norwich. MHS: Yeah, he was two years ahead of me. And but he didn't graduate. But during study hours, what he was doing was playing cards. What I did was studying. I said—I was really driven to study. I said, "If I don't study, if I don't succeed, I'm going to be carrying a lunch basket to work. And if there is anything I don't want to do, it is carrying a Goddamn lunch basket, a lunch box." And you will if you don't succeed so I was driven to, for success, and I was, and I graduated number three in my class. [Laughs] I was driven I had a desire to do it I said, "I can't fail, I just got to do it." I dug in. So my brother was playing cards and I was studying, so he didn't graduate he, well I won't say he failed out but I used to do his Spanish. We took a Spanish class together and he would be playing cards and I was studying during all that time. I said, "Phil, I got maybe ten sentences all translated so you can copy them off if you want to learn this." Same Spanish class together. [laughs] JP: Was he playing poker or what? MHS: Oh yeah he was playing any kinds of cards. Probably poker or anything like that. In the barracks, quiet. It was very quiet you couldn't talk above a whisper and if you did like whoever was on guard could hear you out in the hallway, you were placed on report and given demerits. You had, allowed 9, were given 9 merits and for every demerit, like I guess walking on the grass I guess was 2 demerits. And so you could, so of all the years my brother was working towards, Page 5 all the time he was there shoveling horse manure on the Sabine Field and things like that, walking tours or either working tours off, punishment tours. And I only, I was a corporal. I only—one month I went over, I had 10. So I slept in, I mean I couldn't sign out for home, I normally sign out for noon so I just stayed in my room till 2:00, from one till two to get rid of that 1 tour and then I went home that weekend. And that was the difference between my brother and me. He was, my brother was in CMC, Close Military Confinement. And that's 10 demerits, 20 tours and 30 days Close Military Confinement. And that's pretty rough on a cadet. And a lot of them quit when they get that. You have to do something really bad. My brother was, he was a, he broke his collarbone. Harmon was leading a charge in the stable; my brother was riding a horse named Ham, H-A-M. And they were racing, and the horse stumbled and my brother went over, pitched over his head there and it was a mad rash. They made Pathè News, Norwich did, Pathè News. So my brother went over the, stumbled Ham, and landed and broke his collarbone. So he was in the hospital and on the post, the post hospital there. And he went to the sign out, he didn't sign out, he went to the movies and he got a good, that's a no-no. So he got caught, got 10-20-30, 10 demerits, 20 tours, and 30 days Close Military Confinement. It's pretty pretty rugged. So he was in a jam most of the time and I wasn't. I said I was a corporal and all sophomores are corporals, juniors are sergeants if you are made, you are sergeants, and the seniors are officers. That is the way it works up there now, I think, even now. Was in my day. Everybody was a corporal that was made, you were either a private or a corporal. I do not know what percentage probably 20% maybe, or 15%, were non-commissioned officers. So all sophomores, you cannot be over a corporal. A junior, you can be different classifications of different sergeants. And as a senior, then you are a non-commissioned officer in the militia, not the army, in the militia. So that's how it works. JP: What does Close Military Confinement consist of? What did that mean? MHS: Well you're like a prisoner, it's like being in prison. And when you go to meals you have to, there is a pass book on the floor, there would be a desk there and you would have to sign out for your meals and sign in for your meals, just like a prisoner. And you were a prisoner. And you have to copy where you are at all times and have to check in and it's pretty rough, it's pretty rough. And you can't speak to anybody, and the cadets can't speak to you. You are ignored, completely ignored. And I had one when I was up on the staff and his father was a superintendent of schools in southern Vermont. Quite a big shot. And he got on CMC, Close Military Confinement, and I'll tell you, he said, "It's no fun being ignored by the people you can't speak that way and they can't speak to you, like a prisoner." And it is, I guess, pretty rugged. He said, "I just kinda laugh smiling about it." He said, "It's nothing to laugh about it," I said, "that's pretty rough stuff." [laughs] JP: Do you have other siblings? Brothers or sisters? MHS: No, just the, well I had a sister, three years old, and we were close 'cause I was seven, my brother was nine. And so I was there enough to my sister. So I paid attention to my sister, my brother didn't, he was nine when she was three and she got appendicitis and died. She had appendicitis for a week, her face was flushed and everything and the doctors didn't know what was wrong with her! So they had a consultation of doctors, of 3 doctors. So at the consultation one of the doctors said, "I think she has got appendicitis," and that's what she had. So they put Page 6 her in the car, my father took her to Burlington, over the rough roads. The roads weren't like they are now, they were gravel roads, and he complained, my father, about hitting all the bumps and everything. And well they were too late, the peritonitis set in, she took her. JP: So what did your parents do, you said that he had a theater, did they have a theater when you were growing up? MHS: No no, that came later in life. That was when I was in the Army. And I get out in 1956, yeah 1956, well that's right I came down here. No. JP: So when you grew up what did they do? MHS: Well, I taught high school in the Northeast Kingdom as the, who was it they called it that, one of the, they called it Northeast Kingdom it stuck. And so, what were you about to say?1 JP: Oh, just asking what it was like when you were growing up. MHS: Well, I, ask me that again. JP: What did your parents do when you were growing up? MHS: Well, of course my mother was housewife, my father was real estate, real estate. And he'd sell it either on a commission, like someone would have a farm and turn it over to my father and father would find a buyer for it, he would get commission like 5% or 8% of the sale. And so that's what my father did. Real estate. JP: So, your parents helped you to decide to go to Norwich and you liked it? MHS: They didn't, they told me where I was gonna go. I told you my brother wanted to go to Georgia Tech and Alabama, one of those two. And they said, "No, you're gonna go to Norwich." I guess they figured he needed the discipline, the military, the discipline. And when I went, I was only, in Peoples, there was only 30 in my class, 25 girls and 5 boys. So 3 of us, 3 of the 5 boys all went to Norwich. JP: Wow, that's a pretty high percentage. MHS: Yes it is! [laughs] JP: So who was your roommate at Norwich? MHS: My roommate was, well that time, four in a room. So the—it's a big right room and I lived in Jackman Hall, was the dormitory. And the people I graduated—White, June White, Ross Grey, and I graduated from Peoples. So we were there and the fourth one was Bob Washburn, and he was from Massachusetts.2 1 Attributed to George D. Aiken (1892-1984) Vermont governor and senator. 2 MHS might be referring to Leon Morris White and Charles Russell Graves of Morrisville, VT. Page 7 JP: So the people you went to high school with your roommates. MHS: Yeah, yeah. They were. Yeah. JP: Oh that's great. And how did you decide which fraternity to join? MHS: Well I didn't have to make it, my brother was ahead of me, and he was a Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and so I was just automatically. I guess I did get a bed at one of the fraternities and but I could go—I wanted to go S.A.E. anyway. So I was just automatic, I mean, you have to accept the brother if he wants to go. And so I was S.A.E. And S.A.E. is the largest fraternity, in my day, in the country. And they had I think, I think the number was twenty-eight, I think throughout all the whole United States there were twenty-eight universities that had S.A.E. and the next one was Kappa Sigma they had twenty-five chapters. S.A.E. had the most in the nation, had twenty-eight chapters. JP: Wow, and do you remember the song that you sang for Sigma Alpha Epsilon? MHS: Oh yeah. JP: Would you mind singing it? MHS: [Singing] Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, (lets see) Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, and to Minerva (that's not a good key). Oh sing, Oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon and to Minerva who will lead us on! And to Phi Alpha with her guiding light. To royal sons who fight, fight, fight, fight, fight! And when some day we will tell our sons, about the very best fraternity, oh sing for Sigma Alpha Epsilon, our dear old S.A.E. [laughs] JP: [laughs] That is wonderful; would you like a drink of water? Are you okay? MHS: Yeah I am okay, sometimes your voice is clear but now it's not. JP: That was great. MHS: So sometimes in bed I'll sing, and I'll just sing myself to sleep. I'll hum, and it's pretty good. And this is one of my off days [laughs]. My voice isn't in the singing mode. JP: [laughs] It was wonderful! That was terrific. Do you remember your uniform at Norwich? MHS: Yes, yes. JP: What was it like? MHS: I had my picture in the yearbook when I was a corporal and yes, we had the War Whoop was the yearbook, and I was in there because I was a corporal. And all the non-commissioned officers get special caption, a picture of you and well that's, well I was a corporal. All, well most Page 8 the people, most of them were privates, but the few, I don't know what, 20, 25 or 30% of them are non-commissioned officers and all. Corporal is the highest you can go as a sophomore. If you are appointed, sophomores are corporals, that is all. Sergeants are juniors, and commissioned officers are seniors. So I was a corporal, and a sergeant, and a second lieutenant in A Troop. We were troops then, A Troop, cavalry, horse cavalry. JP: Tell me about the horse cavalry. MHS: Well we had, I don't know how many horses we had. The stables are still up there, the original stables. We would have to, once a week, just like your classroom schedule would meet Monday, Wednesday and Friday or Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, it was on there. So once a week we had to go out to riding hall, the riding house, they're still down there, think the riding— no the stables, the riding hall is gone. You would go to this riding hall and do all these different formations inside. By the right hand, Hooo! By the left hand, Hooo! [laughs] and that sort of thing. JP: Did you learn how to ride a horse at Norwich or did you know before? MHS: No, I had a pony of my own at home. So I was, I know the head of the horse to the tail of the horse. People came up from Massachusetts and didn't know what a horse was, but I did. I had a saddle horse for two years before I went to Norwich so I was a veteran [laughs]. Most of the people were, didn't know one end of the horse from the other! JP: Do you know what breed the horses were that you had? MHS: Well no, but they were well trained. When you first went for drill, for close order drill, number one, one, two, three, four in a column. For example, so we would be in a line, and they would say, "Fours left, Hooo!" And you, first they would say to you, "Column fours, be one, be in a line. Column one, two, three, four. Column fours turn your head to the right in your line, and now one, two, three," and I would say, "Four, one, two, three, four." The next row, one, goes "One, two, three, four." And the next one, "two, three, four." So when you were in the line, they'll say, like we are marching for chapel they'll say, "Fours left, Hooo!" And we, everybody, the number one would pivot and the other went around and we went around in a column. There was nothing to it, a piece of cake. JP: It must have looked wonderful. MHS: Yes, it was good, it was a, it got the job done. JP: Did you drive a car on campus? MHS: I had a car my senior year. Yes I had a Buick Coupe. You had to be a senior. Underclassmen could not have a car, but that was a senior privilege. You could have a car, so my dad [telephone rings in background for a few minutes] had a Buick Coupe that he gave me. So I had a car which was nice. Because we could go from the barracks to downtown which was, Norwich was about a mile. We would pile in, go down to the movies, then come back. It came in Page 9 kinda handy. And when we got home weekends, we didn't think of hitchhiking, I had a car right there. So with four from Morrisville we would pile in the car and go to Morrisville [laughs]. JP: That must have been grand. MHS: It was good. You had to be a senior to have a car. JP: Now I noticed in the War Whoop that you were an expert swordsman, an expert pistol, and an expert rifle shot. MHS: I was. I think I was a marksman as a rifle, sharp-shooter as a pistol, and an expert in the saber. And the saber course was be these dummies, would be men, you would come galloping down, like a column, and you'd just, you would lunge forward. I said "Geesh, I'll probably break my arm, but well I'll do it because it was what we were supposed to do." Worked like a piece of cake. So it was on a pivot, like a row, and so we go galloping down, we gallop past, take the saber, and jam the dummy and follow it right around. And when we went past it, we would pull it back. And it worked like. JP: Was it a real sword? MHS: Huh? JP: Was it a real sword? MHS: A real? JP: Was it a real sword or like a wooden sword? MHS: Oh oh, it was real, I mean it was-- JP: It was sharp. MHS: Yeah, it was, you got a medal for it. I said I was a marksman with a rifle, a sharp-shooter, a higher class, as a pistol, and an expert in the saber, in the saber course. JP: And you all learned those things at Norwich? Or did you practice as a kid? MHS: At Norwich, yeah. JP: So they taught you all that, they taught you how to be all that. MHS: Yep, learned it at Norwich. You got it at Norwich. So I had on my tunic, I had those medals, three different kinds of medals on my tunic. JP: Very good. So what was it like to be a Rook, I know you've talked about being a senior, but what was it like to be a Rook?Page 10 MHS: Ooh boy was that bad. It really was. You were not supposed to haze, but it was, it was mild hazing, mild hazing. For example, they would say, "alright get the rooks on the floor like a row boat, you are rowing a boat." It was hazing, you were not supposed to haze, but they did. About two weeks, the first game of the season was Dartmouth we always played at Hanover. They never came here, but we went, the whole Corps marched at Dartmouth. We would march, line up on the street there, and then march onto the field. The whole Corps for the game. We were there for two games. We did that with Dartmouth for the first game of the season, and we did it in the state series. Middlebury, Vermont, Saint Michaels, and Norwich. And we'd marched. If we played Middlebury, we would march at Middlebury. Middlebury, I think there, most everybody came here. I know we went there. The whole Corps went to Coast Guard. Had a special train for the whole Corps. The whole Corps went down to New London, Connecticut to play the Coast Guard Academy in football. JP: On a special train? MHS: Yep, a special train yep. JP: That's always been a big rivalry for the Coast Guard. MHS: Yes, it has always been a good rivalry we have had with the Coast Guard. We always had, we have a nice, nice relationship with the Coast Guard. JP: Now you were quite a jumper. MHS: Yes I was. In the pole vault particularly. Well when I went there, in high school we had track and the coach, Coach Baker was my chemistry professor but he was also the track coach.3 And I went out for track, and I had the no form. It was just jump over, jump over any way you can get there, it was no form. He called it no form. He said, "I'll teach you the eastern roll or the western roll." He told me exactly how they went. So [he asked], "Which one do you think you will like to go on." And I said, "Let's try the eastern roll." That is: you don't come charging really fast, you've got to take a little hop, then take six or eight steps so it comes out just right. You know exactly where, and you go to the bar, you kick up like this, over the bar. With this foot, you twist it around so that the bar hits your body instead of your butt. You aren't dragging your butt, and knocking it off with your butt. So you kick up, with the eastern roll, and then do that, and twist your body right around and the bar passes your body. You want to get your butt out of the way. So I was a high jumper and in the pole vault, I did the 12 feet. The standards only went up to 12 feet and I guess they didn't think that anybody could do it, but I did. So I was the, and the broad jump. So every year, from freshman to senior, I got a little more as a sophomore, more as a junior, and more as a senior. I kept going up. So I was quite the track star. JP: You were, you were. MHS: And P.D. Baker was my chemistry professor and he was like a father to me. A wonderful, wonderful man. So he taught me all those things. He knew how they went. I stopped to think 3Perley Dustin Baker, NU 1920 (1897-1995), was dean from 1950-1957, worked from 1920-1962. Page 11 about it, I said, I think if I had chosen, he said, "you can have your choice." He explained how it was and I think if I had taken the western roll, I think I could have probably gotten, I just got a feeling, I could have probably gotten one or two more inches higher with the western roll. But he taught me the roll anyway. I liked P. D. Baker. He was dean there, and it might have been later, anyway, he was like a father figure to me. I guess that about covers it doesn't it? JP: That's great, what did you do for entertainment? MHS: Well we had, I was an S.A.E., as I told you it was the largest fraternity in the country. It had more chapters than any other college [fraternity], of all the colleges. We would have Freshmen Week, which would be around January. Classes were suspended and we would have 3 days, 3 days, on the weekend for just parties, dancing, and doing anything you wanted to do. It was dancing mostly and you would get your date there. And you would look around downtown get a rate or rent if they couldn't travel, if they were out in like Massachusetts. Then the cadet would get a room for their date, for like Freshmen Week or Junior Week were the two big weeks. Freshmen Week and Junior Week. Freshmen Week was around January, Junior Week would be around May I think. So I had, I had a girl, Cotting her name was, Emma Cotting, and I had her down for the weekend. And of course a lot of them, I would say probably about a fourth of the cadets had dates on those big weekends. The others didn't have them. Either they couldn't afford it or didn't do it for one reason or the other. But I did, I had a date down. And she lived right there during those three days, probably like Friday, Saturday, and Sunday or something like that for Junior Week, for Freshmen Week and for Junior Week in May and Freshmen Week was in January I think. And all the classes were off, and the parties were in. I remember I had some money, and I get through the fraternity and they made us, something, your boaters, not the boaters in something. We didn't want them in. So I went down there, this was during Prohibition, picked up a pint of whiskey and I paid $4.00 for it. I got to thinking, I said, "My God, I can't really afford four dollars." That would be quite a few trips to the theater, pay for a lot of the theaters. So I bought it for four dollars, I didn't have a date and so one of the cadets who did have a date said, "I'll give you $3.75 for it, and I said "Sold." So I lost twenty-five cents but I could go to more movies [laughs]. JP: So movies were a big thing? MHS: They were downtown, you had to get downtown. JP: So where did one procure liquor during Prohibition? MHS: Well I didn't ask, we just, we got it through the fraternities. The fraternities would, you would sign up for it and they, somebody would get a bootlegger or something and they got good liquor. Probably went up to Canada I presume, probably and got it. So I said, $4.00 for a pint, or half a pint, or a pint and I, like I said, I said "I can't afford that. I would rather spend the money on movies." So I sold it for $3.75, sold my pint for somebody that had a date. It was worth it. I remember we used to go to Lake Eden, during the summer time. Lake Eden was 2 hours, 17 miles I guess, 15 miles. And Eight Guide Dunbar, a wonderful band, 8 piece orches—geez, they were everywhere, they were from St. Johnsbury, Eight Guide Dunbar. We would go there every week, Lake Eden, to dance. The men would go up separately; the girls would go up separately. Page 12 Almost everybody took a date. The girls would get up there by bus or any way they could get there. And they would sit on one side of the room, and the men would stand up in the back. When they would wind up the music then we would go over and we'd pick out somebody or for dancing on the floor. I remember I was dancing with this girl, probably could have been my date, I don't know, I was dancing with this girl. Anyway, and a lot of stags went up there. So I would see this girl, and she would shake her head no, too. I said the next dance? No. The second dance? [laughs] While we were dancing, you have these singles. So like I said, the girls got there by bus or I don't know. They got there, they got there anyway. [laughs] JP: What kind of dances did you do? Do you remember? MHS: Most of them were, in those days we used to Jump the Hop. We did a lot of turning around. We would dance around or we would dance, dance, and we would dip. Or at Lake Eden we actually jumped. We would have your partner jump right in the air, jump, jump. It looked good from the outside. I said, gee that looks like great fun, so I learned how to do it and we would jump. Just jump with the steps rather than glide. Supposedly we would jump and twist in the air. It was good. JP: And you were a good jumper. MHS: We thought we were hot stuff! [laughs] JP: Do you remember any slang? MHS: Any what? JP: Any slang? Did you guys use slang? MHS: Slang? JP: Slang. MHS: S-L-A-N-G? Slang. JP: Correct. MHS: Oh, yeah I guess we did. The people from Massachusetts used to rip on the Vermonters for the way we, for the slang, for the way we talked. And the New Yorkers talked different, the Massachusetts talked broader. Vermont talks a lot flat, flat and hickish really, and Massachusetts were a little different and New York was different than them, just a little bit as a group you know. The rest of the states, you could tell, you could almost tell a state a man was from, whether he was from New York, Massachusetts or Vermont by just talking to them. And of course we were hicks. Of course, the Vermonters, we would usually take a ripping from the cadets from Massachusetts for the hickish way we talked. We probably did talk like hicks. [laughs]Page 13 JP: Did they call you hicks or anything else? MHS: No, not that I know of. But we, well they might have, might have called us hicks. If they did, they were right. We were hicks. [laughs] We wouldn't deny it. JP: Now was Mike Popowski one of your roommates? MHS: Yes, Mike was a—when you're—all sophomores, if you are promoted in the Corps. I think about probably 25% maybe are promoted, maybe not quite that maybe 20% are promoted. So you are supposed to live, not officers live with officers, if you are officers. Privates, senior privates, lived together. Juniors were sophomores were sergeants, and sophomores were corporals, juniors were sergeants, and seniors were officers. Now what did you ask? JP: About Michael Popowski. MHS: Oh, oh, well so well my room— I was an exception. I came to Norwich as a private. I had been there only one week. The very first week I was called into the commandant's office. You're promoted at the commissioning ceremony in the spring when, before you break up. You have a promotion parade and I wasn't on the list. Well when I got back, the first week of school I was called into the commandant's office and was promoted right there. And of course a corporal had to get his stripes sewn on. All sophomores are corporals, privates, and privates. You are a corporal, you are a non-commissioned officers, juniors are sergeants, and seniors are officers. First lieutenants through, well my day the highest rank was a major, was the highest rank. Later on they became a colonel was the highest in the Corps. But in my day it was a major, one major. Then there would be about four or five captains. It would be A Company, B Company, C Company, and Headquarters Company. They were commanded by a senior, by a captain, a senior cadet captain. They would have a captain of the company, command the company. A first lieutenant would be the second in command. Then you have your, like I was in A Troop, and we would have two, two second lieutenants. I was one of the second lieutenants as an A Troop when I was a cadet there. JP: Was Harmon the commandant when you were there? MHS: Harmon was a commandant my first year and then it was his last year there. My sophomore, junior, senior year was a, Harmon was the, my sophomore year. And, who was it? I can't remember his name now, I'll have to remember it, but my sophomore, junior, senior year, it was a new man that came in. They are Regular Army people. That was a duty. They are Regular Army, and it was a duty assignment. And, let's see, Harmon was a, well he was a captain when I came in there and he yeah, he was, he controlled the—the Army furnishes officers for each, each company, for the whole Corps I think there was 17 officers. We could appoint 17 officers, cadet officers. And they're appointed by a, well, a commission. I don't know as a group, I don't know who picks them out. I never did understand who picked them out. Well I was a corporal as a sophomore, and that's all. You are either a private or a corporal. Sergeants, you are either a private or a sergeant if you are made. And a senior, you are either a private or an officer. In other words, a company would have one captain, one first lieutenant, and two second lieutenants. Now I was in A Troop, so A Troop was in Jackman Hall. We had a captain, a first lieutenant, and two Page 14 second lieutenants in the company. Or then there was a, they didn't call them companies. They called them companies later on— we called them troops. We were a troop, troopers, cavalry. Cavalry called them troops. Infantry called them companies. So my freshman year we were troopers. Now they changed it to companies in the Corps. JP: So did you go on the ROTC Hike of 1932? MHS: Did I do what? JP: Did you did the ROTC Hike of 1932? MHS: The, um, no. The uh, that was the one year they did not have it. But the year before they had the summer hike, and I think the year after. But my year they had to cancel it so we went to Fort Ethan Allen. Before you would arrive in the post, [then] ride horses from the post to Fort Ethan Allen. Well this year, they could they were tight on money or something so they, we did not have that summer ride. I think ours was the only class that didn't. I think the class after us did. So we drove to the fort on automobiles and our parents dropped us off. But all the classes before and after us, they rode. They took this secured route from Norwich to Fort Ethan Allen. But my year we didn't take it, we drove in cars and rode our horses when we got there [laughs]. Or whatever it was we did, I don't know what we did. JP: So when you left Norwich, and you graduated, and you went in to the military? You went straight in? MHS: No, not immediately. I think it was only, it was hard to get in. As I remember only two people in my class got a Regular Army commission. You went into the Regular Army when the rest of us went into the Reserves. So for 95% went into the Reserves, we were reserve officers. We went down every two weeks out of, we didn't get a chance to go on active duty. So we didn't actually get our commissions. We didn't see much active duty. JP: What did you do after you graduated? MHS: Well I taught high school up in Northeast Kingdom in Barton. I taught there for four or five years. Well from '34 through '39, and then in '40 I went into the Army. JP: What caused you to go into the Army in 1940? MHS: Well, I, thank you [someone passes Col. Smith a drink]. Well I wanted to get in, you couldn't get in. It was good pay. So in 1940 apparentlyWashington got some money together and so those who wanted to could volunteer for active duty. That was 1940. So I jumped, and it was good pay. It was a lot better than teaching high school. I started at $900 at Barton, Northeast Kingdom, $900, then $1,000, $1,100, and then $1,200. I got a hundred dollar bump each year so my fourth year of teaching I got $1,200. When I went into the Army, I got a hell of lot more than that. When I was getting $1,200 I was getting $4,500 to $5,000, I got about four times as much in the Army. So I went in the Army, and the activation of the Armored Force. My order said the Page 15 37 th Calvary Regiment. When I put in for active duty they came through. When I got there and reported to the officer in charge, the Regular Army officer in charge, who was a lieutenant colonel I think he was, he said well. I said, "Mine said that I was assigned to a cavalry unit." He said, "Cavalry is out. Armor is in." So on the activation the Armored Force came into being on the 15 of June, 1940. The 1st Armored was at Knox, the 2nd Armored was at Benning. I was the 1st Armored Division on the first day of the activation of the Armored Force. On the ground level. JP: Ground floor. MHS: I was assigned to a, well, reconnaissance company. The recon company, the recon battalion, A Troop. A Company was armored cars. B Company was scout cars, C Company was tanks, which I was assigned to C Company. And D Company was half-tracks. Everyone had their own division type of vehicles and we all had cycles, motorcycles. That's what I was in. I remember we had old horse sheds that had no horses, and that's where we kept the tanks. So when we went to pick up our tanks they said, "Alright, anybody that has ever driven a tank, step forward or turn your name in." You were here to pick up some tanks. There was just a few handful had driven a tank, and so I was not one, but some of the old Army people had driven a tank. So they got enough tanks. They came out of a depot somewhere and so the people who had driven tanks stepped forward and drove the tanks into the motor park which were really converted horse stables. They were, now [instead of] horses there were tanks in there. Same place but different vehicle [chuckles]. JP: What kind of motorcycles did you ride? MHS: What kind of what? JP: Motorcycles. MHS: Oh, I think we had the Indian motorcycle, I think. It was Indian. And well they had the, the first ones we had, oh God it was a pleasure to ride. They were down, you sit right down, you had controls, sit right down. Well I'll be goddamned if they didn't give those up. They got the new ones and they are up in the air. Well Jesus, it's like learning to ride all over again. On those low ones you just sit right down, sheesh, you could just feel it, you melted right into the cycle on the road. You melted. Now you sitting up here and by god, I never did like them. They were hard, and if you got off balance, you would go down, you would fall down on the ground. Then you would have to get up shame-facedly and pick up your cycle and mount it again [laughs]. I remember one exercise we had, we were out in the field and we come riding into this spot and dismount. And somebody on the team would throw you a Tommy gun, through the air. I don't know where it would come from, but they would throw it to you, and you would have to catch it in the air, the Tommy gun. You would blast a couple [gun noises], it would rise up [gun noises], bring it down, you would take 3 or 4 shots and it rises on you. You do not try to hold it down. You know it is going to, so you do it, you let up on the trigger, then get out 3 or 4 more rounds. Page 16 Then it gets to ride up. Just the force of it forces the Tommy gun up. Then we, when we would finish that I would take the rifle and the submachine gun and toss it to the instructor, jump on the motorcycle, and you are gone [chuckles]. That was a test, I mean, I guess all the officers went through it. It was fun, it was fun. I liked it. It was good. JP: What other weapons did you carry? MHS: We didn't carry anything. We, uh, I'll tell you, in Germany General Harmon had the Constabulary. So when I went outside in Heidelberg and yellow, we had yellow shoelaces. We were special. Constabulary was a special group of soldiers. And we were hot stuff, I guess, under Harmon. And was everybody assigned, a quite few. Well I made the cavalry in Germany and uh, is that it? Does that answer? JP: So you were part of Ironsides? And did you take part in any combat action? MHS: Um, you mean real combat? Or, or, we had maneuvers and it was just like combat. I mean it was, it was. Well you are in a war! I remember I was in the recon battalion, reconnaissance battalion. We were deployed down on the line in a big field. We were there, nothing was happening. We were up front cause— we reconnaissance battalion is the forward most unit of a division, of an armored division, is the reconnaissance battalion. And I was a recon battalion. They lead the entire division. The reconnaissance battalion, and I was in recon bat. So we got here on this field here, nothing was happening and we were just holding there, waiting for something to happen. All of a sudden all hell broke loose and tanks just covered that field. I stood there and said, "My god, it was a maneuver." And that field was covered with tanks! I guess, I never saw so much tanks in my life! And I, uh, "Holy Jesus what am I seeing?" I was really captivated by it, I was a, it was a maneuver, it was maneuvers. JP: And where was this? MHS: Jesus. Well I can't remember. I was the 1st Armored and the 1st Armored was at [Fort] Knox. The 4th Armored, I think, was Drum, Fort Drum. 10th Armored was, I was the 1st, 4th, and 10th Armored as they were building up the divisions. They would send the cadre, a pit crew, to form a new division. They were forming new divisions. So I started out in the Armored, the 1st Armored, the very first beginning, the 1st Armored was in Fort Knox where I was. The 2nd Armored was activated on the same day. The first day of the activation of the Armored Force was the 15 of June, 1940. The 2nd Armored was at [Fort] Benning. Then they grew, so they had 18 armored divisions. They have cadre as a shell for the making of all the key positions of a unit. Then they send in recruit fillers, to fill it up to full strength. That's how they would increase. They had an outline, just an outline of key people who would be assigned as the cadre staff. I was the 1st Armored but I was picked as a cadre for 4th Armored Division. So it's a shell of the officers and non-commissioned officers and then the fillers come in and fill it up. And they go on and do it that way with the 18 armored divisions I think. So I was the 1st, 4th, and 10th Armored Divisions. Page 17 JP: So you were stateside. Were you overseas? MHS: Oh yeah, yes I was. That's, that's something. I went, I was overseas. Where the hell was I? Jesus. Goddamn [whispered with frustration]. I was overseas. Europe? FRIEND OF MHS: Moe, What did you train on tanks in Hawaii? You were a trainer, what did you train people [on]? MHS: My job there was to train Marines on the tank mounted flame-thrower. Hell, that was it. That was a school. Each Marine Division had one tank company or battalion, I can't remember which. They would send a whole unit of Marines over to—I was the head of the school at Kolekole Pass, that's where the Japanese flew in, over that cut in the mountains when they bombed Pearl Harbor. And uh, where was I now? FRIEND OF MHS: You were training Marines. MHS: Yeah, I was training Marines and we would set up trebles on the guns, on the flamethrowers. The flamethrowers were co-actually mounted. You would have a 76 sticking on the tank a big rifle, a big, long tube, a 76. And co-actually mounted to that was a flamethrower right beside it, or below it. So you could have your fire power. You're in the tank, you would have the ammunition in the tank. It was underneath the turret floor for your stored ammunition. So they were independent. They could fire, I can't remember how many, rounds of 76 you could fire or you could use the flamethrower. Either one. And we would make our own napalm. It is like a sawdust, soap, chips, I guess like soap. It's like sawdust, looks like sawdust. You can't get it, even a drop of water, or it breaks it down. So you have to be careful that the drums are dry and you had this napalm, that's the sawdust-like stuff, and mix it up, and it's rubbery. And you reach in there and pull it out like that and hold it and let it go a little snap back to base. It was heavy, it was elastic, like elastic. Now that's your flamethrower stuff. And it has to be that way so you can back off your tank, and that thing we couldn't throw a flame and it works out. They would, I wouldn't happen to be with the unit at that time. But the Japanese would hole up in these caves, so we'd get these flamethrowers and since it was almost impossible to dig out, 'cause the side was like a mountain, all rocks. They were inside with peepholes and everything. Hard to dig those people out. So we get these flamethrowers in there and course they had the aperture, they had it open so they could fire. And we would put the flamethrower and probably shoot it, probably, a couple hundred yards. If it was mixed just right, just right, it was like rubber, like rubber, and you could back your tank off and we would, they would, it had to be that particular action. But then they would fire these flamethrowers in these apertures, or whatever you call them, the rock where they fired. And they would put the flamethrowers in there and burn up the oxygen and those Japanese would be dead. D.E.D. Dead [laugh]. And not a mark on them, they wouldn't have a mark on them, but they'd be dead. It would burn up the oxygen in the air in these caves and kill them all. Just, just, just asphyxiated. JP: Where were you during, where were you when Pearl Harbor occurred? Page 18 MHS: I was in Hawaii. I was in Hawaii and I had a school there. I was the head of the school. Head of school on the tank mounted flamethrower and as I said, we work with; we made mostly Marines, training Marines. Those Marines, I couldn't sing their praises enough, the, the [fades out] FRIEND OF MHS: Moe, when Pearl Harbor was bombed, where were you located? Were you still in the States or were you elsewhere? MHS: No, no, no, when Pearl Harbor was, no, no. When Pearl Harbor was bombed I was in Hawaii with the, with the tank mounted flamethrower - FRIEND OF MHS: So you were training Marines. MHS: training Marines. When the peace came they dropped the bomb and so they gave us 48 hours. We had these big, these 55 gallon drums. We had like a mountain of them, just a heap of them. Gasoline rations for the states they sent it to us to burn up in the flamethrowers or whatever it was. It was hard to get gas for use here for the civilians during the war. So we, when the armistice, when they dropped that bomb they sued immediately for peace, so they gave us 48 hours to clear the range. So we had a veritable mountain of 55 gallon drums, long and high, filled with this napalm. And we opened those drums just as fast as we could open them. And we had a veritable pond of that napalm, that rubberized stuff there, and we would back a tank off, put a flamethrower on it and you would have thought the whole island was going up in flames. I mean it was some fire, I'll tell ya. That was the Kolekole Pass. It was a plateau. It was a low cut in the mountains, I said when the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor they came through that pass and I had been there at that time. They flew right over where I had my school. FRIEND OF MHS: So what did you do in Japan? When you went to Japan after the war? MHS: Let's see, I was, Oh! Here is a funny thing. I was, I was an obs-, obscure, obscure major. I'd been there 3 days. Nobody knew me. Hell, there probably a thousand, probably hundreds and hundreds of majors there. It was all in the Far East Command under General MacArthur's Far East, Far East Command. And I'd been there just 3 days and my name came up to be on the General Staff. And I said, "How in hell can I be made? They don't know me!" I said, "I'm the new man here! I am one of hundreds and hundreds of majors and they picked me out. There was a feather in my bonnet and God was with me. God appointed me. God had something to do with that." Three days I was on the General Staff. Seemed pretty good. It was about 18 or 17, we'd have a staff meeting every day. I would be there and it was under, we had reports that came into me and I had a guy in my division that wrote them up and all I had to do was sign them. So I signed them as if they were my reports because I was the head of the division. So, so I signed it, I signed it. I didn't change a word. Call McCarthy, I signed it, sent it up to G3 with my signature. G3 took my name off, put their name on it and sent it up to GHQ Far East Command, General MacArthur's headquarters. It went through all those chains, everybody put their name on it, and I didn't do a thing. I just, tt was all prepared, I never, in all the time I was there, only Page 19 one time there was a paragraph in there that was way off, and I took that out. I said, "By god that's not going to go into the report, that's for goddamned sure." So I took that out. When I said that was my report, when they get it, it was their report to GHQ they passed the line. It was a, I didn't do anything, no really, all I did was look at the reports and send them on up. I did not do anything. But I, it was important because it went to GHQ and the GHQ, when they got through with them, sent the reports to Washington. JP: And after the war what did you do? MHS: After the war I, well I was in Chicago Headquarters, Fifth Army. My mother called up and said, "If you want to come home, your father will sell his shares of the drive-in theaters to you." And I really didn't want to come out, I liked Chicago and I liked my job. I just, I had a good job, and I did not want to leave. I had it made. I had 16 years. All I needed was 4 more years to retire at 50%. Well, mother said, "Your father will sell," So I said, "Well I guess she wants me to get out," so I get out. I really did not want to go, but I got out after 16 years and went home, and bought out my father's shares of the Green Mountain Drive-in Theaters. There was a theater in Morrisville and the largest in the state was in Newport. And we got half. The trade was Canadian trade. They would come down because they did not have any, any, Canada could not have 'em. It was state law, they could not for quite a while, they couldn't have drive-in theaters. So we had a sell out every night and that was a, that was a good payment, but of course we didn't make as much money in those days as they do today. I got $10,000 a year sitting on my butt and doing nothing. [laughs] JP: When did you meet Isabel? When and where did you meet your wife? MHS: I met her before I went into the Army. For 4, 4 or 5 years from '35 to '40, I taught high school in Barton in the Northeast Kingdom. And I taught, coached, I coached and taught for four or five years, I can't remember. 1935 to 1940, and then in '40 I went into the 1st Armored Division at [Fort] Knox. JP: But how did you meet her? Where did you meet her? MHS: Oh my wife? Well we were teaching, teaching school. JP: She was a teacher. MHS: Right. And Issy [Isabel] was home economics, home economics. She graduated from uh, I can't remember the name of the school now. I did know that it was in Massachusetts. She had her degree from a school in Massachusetts. I know where it is but it doesn't come to mind right now what it was. So that's where I met Issy. So Issy was a, we were both teaching school there and we both, we got married. We skipped out one New Year's Eve and got married, came back, didn't tell anybody about it because we weren't supposed to be married, I guess. And we weren't supposed to be I guess. I don't know how they could keep a teacher from, from they could take a Page 20 married teacher or a single teacher. But either way, we got married and didn't tell anybody. Then, then we got out in 1940 and went into the Army. JP: So she couldn't tell she was married because they didn't want women who were married to be teaching. That's why you didn't? Was that it? MHS: I don't know. I don't know. I could never could figure out why didn't want, why they didn't want it. Never could figure that out. But they didn't, anyway, for some reason or another. So then we went to, that's when we were stateside, I was, we were teaching in Barton. So we got married, dropped out of teaching, and I went into the 1st Armored Division at Fort Knox in 1940. JP: Yeah? FRIEND OF MHS: Did you talk about how we ended up at Norwich? JP: No. I'm curious as to how you got from post-World War I [interviewer said one meant two], to Korea and then to Norwich. How did you get to Norwich? And what did you do in Korea? I know those are big questions. MHS: I was in the, ah, I, I, I got out of the Army. Oh! I got out of the Army to buy the theaters, that's why I got out of the Army. Mother said, "If you want to come home, your father will sell you [the theaters]." I didn't want to do it but I did. I got out of the Army and went home and bought out my father's share of the drive in theaters. So I was sitting one day when I got the Norwich Bulletin. I don't know what it's called now. It's a bulletin. It said they are looking for somebody for the commandant's office. It said, "apply to Colonel Black." I said, "Bull, bull, bullshit," I said "I'll jump in my Cadillac and go down and let them see me. I can see them and they can see me." And I did, and I was told by Black that I was one of the, there was only one other, a year later, putting in for my same job and I got it. So I report in as, to Black. Black went up to Harmon and said, "We got a man here on our plea for an assistant commandant." And he said, "He's a Norwich man." And Harmon goes. "Well sign him up and give him three days to get in and get down here." So I was home, I had to clean up and move and everything. So I did and I came down here and reported in in 1940, 1940 1st Armored Division. FRIEND OF MHS: No you started at Norwich in 1950, didn't you? MHS: I started at Norwich… [trails off] FRIEND OF MHS: '56? '54? MHS: In 1940… FRIEND OF MHS: You were in for sixteen years. It would be '56. MHS: Oh yeah. Uh huh. Page 21 JP: You worked seventeen jobs at Norwich for eighteen years, right? MHS: Yeah, yes, yeah. I was— oh here is a funny thing, but it's not really very funny either. One day we had the—I was registrar. I was the first registrar in Norwich history. And Bob Guinn, I knew him, he was a professor when I was cadet. And he wrote the history of Norwich and he said that, "Smith was the first registrar in Norwich history." See before they had the registrar duties, but they partialed all them out amongst different faculty. So they get them all together for the first time and I was the first. And this is in the history. I was first full time registrar in Norwich history. And that was in 1940, yeah 1940, wasn't it? FRIEND OF MHS: It couldn't have been '40, that's when you went into the Army. Sixteen years after that would have been '56 MHS: This was 19… [trails off]… this was, uh, '56 yeah. '56. Yeah '55. '56 was the first year I came to Norwich. Yeah '55-'56 was my first year at Norwich. JP: So, you, you were working on a master's at Columbia before you— MHS: I was uh, yes. I started in and that was, that was a funny thing. I went to one section at Columbia and Columbia had a new deal. It used to be you go to 5 years or 4 years and a thesis. You go to 4 summer sessions and then write a thesis and that was it. Or 5 years without a thesis. Then they finally said, they cut it out and said, all right, you can go 4 years, you can get it in 4 years without a thesis. So I was working towards a Master's Degree at Columbia when I, when I ah. So I got to the next summer, I was waiting to see if I was going to get called into the Army, that was in '39. See if we were called into the Army, I said, I have to make up a decision because after the 4th of July if you go to Columbia, you don't get any credits. You have to be on or before the 4th of July for a full, for the full term. You can miss 2 or 3 days but that was all. And after the 4th of July you could go if you wanted to, but you wouldn't get credit for the Master's Degree. So, where was I now? JP: What was your major? What were you getting a master's degree in at Columbia? What were you studying? MHS: Probably education, I'd imagine. Education. I remember, I remember two of my professors—one was a woman, Doctor Spesicka at Columbia. The other was Doctor Hunt. The one that was the most popular one, he had a theater. We had small classes, 7 or 8 of in the class, but there was this one big class and he was the big, we had it in the theater, about 2 or 3 hundred were in his class. And I can't remember his name! But I remember Spesicka and Hunt. And Issy was there and I took her to class with her one time, when I was working for a master's degree. But it helped, because ah 4, 4 sessions, there used to be 5 and they cut it down to 4. So I was waiting, I said, "Gee I don't want to lose out all around," and I was biting my fingernails wondering whether to – what was it? To decide whether I was going to do something or go back to Columbia? Can't remember what it was. My choice was go to Columbia or Army I guess it Page 22 was. And I said, "I got to make up my mind before the 4 th of July," and it went by. And anyway I went to Columbia anyway, and I got a full year at Columbia. JP: You've had a lot of experience in education. A lot of life experiences with teaching people things and - MHS: The courses that you take in education was dull, dull and meaningless in education. They did not carry any weight, there was no substance to it, education courses. I mean they were stupid, they were dumb. And you had to take 18 hours, you were supposed to have 18 hours to get a, I guess a degree. And ah, I took 2 or 3 courses, and they were stupid! A waste of time! There was a misnomer calling them education courses. They prepared you, they didn't prepare you for anything but took them because they were required and so I went just that one time, and then I went into the Army. I was debating between, I didn't want to lose out on the second term for Columbia, I was biting my fingernails, and I said, "Well it's too late now I have to take what I get," and then my orders came through for active duty. So I played that right. I was lucky [chuckles]. JP: Do you want to take a break now or are you okay? MHS: Oh I'm okay. FRIEND OF MHS: I gotta go along, Moe. Your checks are all set there you have to sign them. MHS: Oh uh, oh the bills. Yeah, okay… come tomorrow, will ya? Okay, you are learning something about me. [chuckles] FRIEND OF MHS: You should tell her all the stories you have about the different generals you have worked for. MHS: Oh yeah, that's right. I have worked for, here is a funny thing. General Newgarden4 had the 10th Armored Division. I was in his division, well he came to the Armored School, and I was, I was something in the Armored School. I was a big, kinda a big wheel. Big wheel. I was a department head and he, everyone, they go to class and then they have to take a 10 minute break and then they go back to class for 50 minutes then 10 minute break. He was a tactics guy, tactics class. So I came up to see him, he didn't know me, I said, "General Newgarden." I said, "You probably don't remember me," (cause he had a division, he didn't know all the people). I said, "I was in your 10th Armored Division!" I said. "I was under your command at one time." So we had a nice chat. I remember his stars were—a pep they call it, a little round thing that clips to your collar, it was gone. And I said, "Gosh I should have fixed that but I didn't." I said, I should have said something, what I should have said was, '"General, your general thing is askew, you lost your pep." And I'd take my pep, "Here take my pep I got another one." That's what I should have done but I didn't do it. I was kind of scared so I let him go with his U.S. dangled Major 4 Major General Paul Woolever Newgarden (1892-1944) Page 23 General. And we talked but he didn't know who I was, so I told him, I said "I was in your division." A lot of officers in a division, you don't get to know them all. FRIEND OF MHS: So you did a lot of, you were in charge of Army training for a lot of , a lot of your career. MHS: Oh yeah, and in Hawaii that's all I did do. And I was the head of the school. FRIEND OF MHS: Who were those, the Spaniards that came, or Spanish speaking group that came? MHS: Oh, well we'd have tourists from all over the country. Colombia, for example, sent two or three different groups at different times. But the colleges all around would send their handpicked people to study our system of education, which was, ah, you could see it! It wasn't that you read something in a textbook and then recite it, but you could see it. It was all hands education. We would take an engine apart and put it together again. Assemble it right on the floor so we, we had engine cells and we would set up engine troubles, trouble shooting, and then the class would come in. We had a little, we had this big dynamometer, a big dynamometer engine in the middle and little cells around there. And we divided, about six officers or noncommissioned officers to a cell and there would be an instructor in there. And depending on whether, maintenance 1, maintenance 2, trouble shooting, so forth and they'd go through that and that'd be one week at each section. And I had the trouble, trouble shooting for over 1 week. So there's 6, 8, I think 8, different sections and then they'd graduate either 6 to 8, they'd graduate after about 2 months. I didn't do it exactly because I can't remember but about 2 months. They would have it on their records that they were graduates of the Tactics Department. The Armored School was the Tank Department, armored cars, tanks, wheeled vehicles, and motorcycles. There were five divisions of the Armored School. It took every, every week, 100, every third class was an officer class. We had an enlisted class, an enlisted class, an officer's class. Enlisted class, enlisted class, an officer's class. So there are 1,200 students at all times in the Armored School. 1,200. So 100 would graduate, 100 would come in. And every third company was an officer's company, so it'd be 300 at any one time, be 300 officers and 900 enlisted men in the Armored School. I had the Trouble Shooting Division. We would have these engine cells, we'd set up troubles on the tank, tank wouldn't start and so they'd figure out why it wouldn't start. And for motorcycles, wheeled vehicles, tank, and halftracks. FRIEND OF MHS: So what happened when the Colombians came to visit? MHS: Well that was, that was a good thing. They, ah, they spoke in English. They came through and they could with just what they could see. I found after, they didn't know what the hell was going on. They didn't! We spoke English and while they could see something, but the instructor - Maintenance 1 or Maintenance 2 or whatever it was - would talk in English and they told me, they [the Colombians] didn't know what was going on. And when they got down to the engine task, I knew that in Spanish, because I took Spanishm, I majored in Spanish in college. So I had Page 24 a corporal, god he was good, he was good. So I had no English-Spanish/Spanish-English dictionary so I had my speech in Spanish. So this, and I had been, I majored in it so I knew quite a few of it but I needed some help in polishing up. So I called this corporal in, he was, god he was a whiz-bang, I'll tell you. So I said, "What's the, what's the word for troubleshooting?" And he said, "There is no word for troubleshooting. It's busca fias look for troubles, that's trouble shooting." And so he helped me with my speech and I memorized it, because I majored in it so I knew quite a bit of it and he filled in the gaps for me cause I had no dictionary. So when the, when the Colombians, when the Brazilians - particularly Eurico Dutra, Chief of Staff of the Brazilian Army - came around, they didn't, they told me, they didn't know what was going on. We just spoke in English. Well when they got up to my place, I delivered it in Spanish they went for their notebooks and started writing like mad. Of the 16 stations, mine was the only one that meant anything to them because they didn't know. My people didn't know Spanish and they'd deliver it in Spanish [means English] but it went over their heads so when I started my speech in Spanish, boy they whipped out their notebooks. I tell you they were writing furiously so it wasn't a complete failure [laughs]. It made me feel pretty good. JP: Thank you. MHS: Any other questions? [laughs] FRIEND OF MHS: Oh. Mike Popowski downtown, his father, what was his association with you? MHS: We were at Norwich together. [At] Norwich noncommissioned officers lived with noncommissioned officers, commissioned officers lived with commissioned officers, privates lived with privates. FRIEND OF MHS: So how did you know Popowski or Pop? What was his nickname? MHS: Well as a sophomore, at commencement the end of my freshman year, my name wasn't on, I was a private. Well I had been there just a week and I was called into the commandant's office the very first week of school and was promoted to, made a corporal. So I was already living with privates. Popowski was a private. There was four of us: Sullivan (an Irish man), Uthenwoldt (a German), and me (English), and Polish, Popowski. We were in Jackman Hall, A Troop, A Troop. We were troops then, now they are, later became companies. It was A Troop and uh… [trails off]5 FRIEND OF MHS: Now did you stay with Popowski all through your school? MHS: So I was a private up until the very first week of school. I wasn't promoted at commencement. So I had my roommates, so when I was promoted to corporal I think I was the only one rooming with privates. All the others were noncommissioned officers with 5 Michael Popowski, George Patrick Sullivan, both Class of 1934 and Fred William Uthenwoldt, jr., Class of 1935. Page 25 noncommissioned officers. And they would keep the privates with their group so they didn't break it up. So I stayed where I was, but I was a corporal. I guess I was the only corporal, noncommissioned officer, who was in with privates, and Popowski was a private. FRIEND OF MHS: So but did you stay with him when you became a junior or a senior? MHS: No, just my sophomore year. And then my junior year it was just two of us. Sullivan, Sullivan I guess it was. I roomed with him from New Hampshire, Berlin, New Hampshire, was my roommate from, to junior and senior year at Norwich. Troops. I can't remember if we were troops. I think they went from, I think my sophomore year they went from troops to companies. They used to be troops for cavalry, cavalry troops. Same number pretty much, and makeup, but they would call them troops. So the band leader, I would take reports, I would be the officer of the day, and I would say, "Report to reveille." And they'd say "A Company present and accounted for. B Company present and accounted for. C Company." And you would say, "Dismiss your troops," if you were the officer of the day. And they would dismiss their troops. Well the band leader, I can't remember his name now, he wanted to call them troops and they were companies. They went from troops to companies. Well he wanted, the Band Company, he wanted to call 'em troops. So when I go out to take a report I say, "Report!" for if you are on duty, if you are the officer on duty for the whole regiment. And then "A Company present and accounted for. B Company present and accounted for," so on and "Band Company present" and, uh so this guy I can't remember his name now said, called it troop, said "A Troop present and accounted for." Well I could have called him on it and say, "Hey look, we are companies now. You will report as a company not a troop." But said, "My god if he wants to call them a troop, I'm gonna let him call it a troop." So he was the only one in the regiment that called his Band Company a troop. Everybody else was a company, and I let it go. I said, "Hell, I don't give a damn if he wants to call his band a troop, I'll let him." Any other questions? FRIEND OF MHS: I can't think of any right off there, chief! MHS: Well, we'll… FRIEND OF MHS: We'll catch up tomorrow. JP: Thank you very much. FRIEND OF MHS: I'm Dick Brockway JP: Brockway, that's right, we met before. I've got a, I can leave a card if you want, I gave Moe a card. Thank you. MHS: You know that, that helped me, that Colombia deal, it was on my, on my record so I got some wonderful assignments. I was, I was on the Armored, I was an obscure major, and I do not know how many majors there were in the Far East Command. I mean hundreds of them, and in three days they picked me out to be on the General Staff. And I said, "By god, I said God is with Page 26 me, God made that appointment." I mean all these majors, and I was an unknown major and they put me on the General Staff. I never could figure that out. [Moe's friend says goodbye] JP: So let's see, you were in, third overseas assignment was the Japan Logistical Command after the war. You were on the Commander General's Staff and you wrote reports that went up to General MacArthur's Headquarters in Tokyo and then to Washington. MHS: It went through channels, through channels. JP: Through channels. So you worked… MHS: In the final, in the Far East Command, MacArthur, MacArthur's headquarters, he was in, so it went to MacArthur's headquarters because he was the Far East Command. He was command of all, all the post caps and stations in the area, Far East Command. MacArthur, and then to MacArthur, my report went to MacArthur's headquarters, Tokyo, and he sent them on to Washington and what they did with them I don't know. JP: So then you went to Chicago? You were in Chicago during Korea. MHS: Chicago was my last duty station. JP: Last duty station. MHS: I was in Chicago. Oh, Headquarters, Fifth Army. I got it in my hat. Headquarters, Fifth Army, and I lived uptown from Chicago. I wasn't down in the loop, I lived a few blocks north, but it was still Army Headquarters. So I was in Fifth Army Headquarters in Chicago. JP: And what did you do there? MHS: I was a, I was a - Command Reports, I managed Command Reports. In other words, feeder reports came into me and I'd give it to my Division Commander whose business it was to write a report. So he wrote up the reports for me. Ah. Month, weekly or monthly reports, I can't remember which, I can't remember if they were weekly or monthly. So they would come across my desk. He would, he was the head of the—I had 4 divisions, 3 or 4 divisions in my company. And his division was to write up what went on in the Fifth Army Area. So they came to me, and I'd read 'em and there was one time that I changed something. I took out a paragraph that didn't belong, I took it out. So they came to me, I signed it as if it were my report, and sent it on to the next echelon of maintenance. And he would read it, and then he would sign it, that means it was his report then, and then it would go on to GHQ, to General MacArthur. And somebody in Special Services, I was in Special Services, in Special Services in the Far East Command would sign it, and then it is his report! Then it went on to Washington. JP: So what was it like when you worked under Harmon at Norwich? Page 27 MHS: I was, it was pretty good. It started out pretty rough, I guess I told you that something was happened. JP: Yes you got in the elevator and it was slow but Colonel Black… MHS: It was good, it was good under Harmon. We went to the uh, we had something at White River Junction, Dartmouth, and uh, at White River Junction, Dartmouth. And I had a big Cadillac and Harmon, I had a carful in my Cadillac there, and I drove with the wives. We drove to White River somewhere, we drove to some headquarters. And uh, [pause] and we met, we had a meeting, a big meeting somewhere. I don't know if it was White River or if it was Dartmouth, could've been Dartmouth. We had a meeting and Harmon rode in. I had Harmon, Mrs. Harmon and the director of admissions and his wife. And I had Issy. Six of us and we went to this, this meeting for the Area Command or something. I can't remember what it was. And Harmon, he was, he could swear quite a bit and he was a, so he made a speech using pretty rough language. Well the Norwich wives knew he spoke that way, and they expected him to speak that way, but the people outside our command didn't, youknow They had their wives there, they were civilian college wives or something like that. And so Harmon said something using his salty language and they sucked in their breath, you know. He could be pretty salty. And Harmon, so on the way back Harmon knew he made a mistake, "Oh god," he said, "I could cut off my tongue for saying what I said." I said, "Well gee General Harmon," I said. "People know you, they expect you to talk that way. If you didn't, you wouldn't be General Harmon. They'd be disappointed." He said, "Yes, they weren't Norwich wives. They weren't all Norwich wives, means there are some Dartmouth wives in there and they're the ones who sucked in their breath at his language." And I had no reply to that, he was right! JP: So you heard quite a bit of salty language. MHS: Huh? JP: So you heard quite a bit of salty language [louder]. MHS: Oh, oh yes. He was a…I remember one time, we were right here, I think I may have told you already. Women were sitting in here, Mrs. Harmon was sitting right here, and maybe not in this chair but in this place. The men were out around here, was it the Norwich community? I guess it was, yeah, high ranking people, Norwich department heads. And so I looked at him and Leona was sitting here, and Harmon you could hear him, god he had a booming voice. And he said, I guess I told you, "I've thrown my leg over many a French lad!" And I said, "My gosh you can hear him!" How you could hear outside and over here, he had a booming voice. Leona sat there and didn't, she knew Harmon, she didn't flick an eyelash. And he didn't care if she did hear, and he was true. He was quite a, as you call it, cocksman? [laughs] JP: I guess when you live in the military and you work with people closely you get to know their personalities. You get to know their good sides and their bads. What is it about Norwich, you Page 28 seem to really love Norwich and the training and the education that you've got. What is it about Norwich, you think, that makes people so loyal and so attached to it? MHS: Well it's the esprit de corps. It's the spirit of the corps. It's the, it's a, now in my day only, I think 2 graduates were accepted into the Regular Army. The rest including me were reserve officers but two, every year, they would take two for the Regular Army commissions. And then I think they dropped that rule. I don't know when they did go about the Regular Army. Oh I know, the reserve officers, I think it was at [Fort] Knox, they had, we were a lot of reserve officers. So they had a special course, and it turned out not to be much, it was a week of special training for the small group that wanted to go into the Regular Army. So a few reserve officers went. I didn't, I wish I had. But it was a short course, it wasn't demanding at all. It was a piece of cake really, and those people who went to that get a Regular Army commission. I was in the whole time on a reserve Army commission. I could just as well done that, and I thought, I said it was gonna involve a lot of work and isn't probably worth it. What I thought, what I heard, it wasn't hard at all, it was a piece of cake really for that week there was nothing to it. You'd get your Regular Army commission. So I went through all those years as a reserve commission. But, got the same pay. Get promotions just the same as everybody else. JP: And you have lived across from Norwich after you retired. So you've been close to Norwich for, gosh… MHS: I was at Norwich for I think 16 years. JP: I think 18, 16 or 18. MHS: I will tell you one thing really gripping. I was registrar. It is recognized that the registrar's duties were fanned out, or under - when I came in it was all coordinated. I was the first registrar as such, full time registrar in Norwich history. Guinn who writes the history told me that. And now where were we? What did you say? JP: Oh, you said you were going to say something gripping about being a registrar. I said you had lived here a long time. MHS: I was the, I was the first registrar in Norwich history. And, well, Dean Perry, and I loved him. Registrar comes under the Dean, he was the Dean and Registrar is under the Dean.6 So the Dean was my boss. So he came in one day. I had the best office in Dewey Hall with a fireplace on it. It was for the Dean but the Dean didn't want it, he wanted to be off the beaten path 'cause he didn't want to be where people were going by his office. He wanted the privacy, so he took the office way down at the end of the hall and I had the spacious office as Registrar, fireplace and everything! Now where was I? 6Col. Lewis Ebenezer Perry, (1899-1963) died on June 7, 1963 on a Friday, at the Cadet Corps Commencement Parade on Sabine Field. Page 29 JP: A gripping story about being registrar. MHS: The Dean came into my office one day and I liked Dean Perry, I guess I loved him really. He was a wonderful, man wonderful man. [Takes sip of water] And he said, "Let's get down to the," he said, "C'mon," I guess I was a colonel, "Colonel," I might have been a lieutenant colonel. "C'mon and we'll go and go down for the alumni parade." I looked at my watch, and I was pretty busy there. And he said, "I know it's early," he said, "but I thought we'd take our time." I said "okay," it made sense to me. So we started out, he started to take his car. I thought, "What the hell is he taking his car for? Jeesh all we have to do is, Jackman Hall is just down the steps and you are there." But, I thought, "Well, we're early, that's why we are taking it." I said to myself, I was talking to myself. "Oh we're early that's why we are." And so we'd go down and take a step, and stop. Take another step, and stop. And we would talk. And what's he going so damn slowly floor. Then again I said, "Well we're early of course." Now there was a reason for us doing that. He didn't feel good, Well, I didn't know that. So two or three different things I didn't question, I said "Oh, well were early we don't have to hurry about anything." So we got down there and I thought, "I'm gonna have some fun today." The Academic Board is the all-powerful board. The Academic Board is the big thing, academic board, department heads mostly make up the Academic Board. So I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys," 'cause I was a colonel, I was a full colonel and they were lieutenant colonels, the department heads were lieutenant colonels. Now they're colonels, but at that time they were lieutenant colonels and I was a colonel. So I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys." So we had to, we were out on Sabine Field, standing back where the tank is, milling around. So we had to march on to the field and they had a seat for us right in the middle of Sa-Sabine Field, seats. So I was to march them down on. I was the Registrar, so I said, "I'm gonna have some fun with these guys." I said, "I'll treat them like recruits." I said, "Alright Academic Board," I said there to the all-powerful board and department heads. I said alright "Academic Board, fall in!" Like they were a bunch of Rookies. I said, "Fall in!" And they fell in, they fell in, they knew what I meant. So we marched in and "I said, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4," but I didn't shout like "1! 2! 3!" Just timed it, 1, 2, 3, 4, so we would be on step but the rest of them aren't supposed to hear necessarily. So we marched on the field, I halted them, and I said, "Fall out" and they fell out and went to the seats. Well, we were, I looked out at the men and the wives were there in the, in the, in the seats, you know out in the stadium, you know, and I looked around and they were laughing. I said "Boy, the girls are having a wonderful time." The wives of the department heads and everything, they were laughing and having a nice afternoon, they were laughing and everything. Well this cadet came up, he got some award, a corporal, he got some award. And it was the awards parade and they had some special academic awards or whatever awards they were. The Dean was pinning them on, Dean Perry, he went out with me, I took him down. I mean I walked down with him. And so he was a, this corporal I guess came up and he was pinning an award on him at the awards parade. And he turned as if to go back, as if he is going to go up into the stands then he Page 30 whirled around again to get back to where he was and he went down in a heap. And I said "Oh God," and I was looking, before that happened I looked and said, "What's that on the back of the dean's neck." It looked like an hourglass of red. I said, "What the hell is that on the Dean's neck?" I said, well, I don't know. So Lillian, his wife, came down crying cause he, I guess he had a little heart trouble but he tried to do, skate, ice skate and everything to stay in shape and to exercise his heart, you know. I didn't realize that till later on. So she came down crying, after they had been sitting there laughing and having a wonderful time. And all of the sudden [snaps] the switch turned and now she was crying. We didn't know it, but he dropped dead, dead on the parade ground. So they got the ambulance, loaded him into the ambulance and took him down here I guess. And ah, so when they went on with the awards parade, finished the parade, I couldn't tell you what happened, I don't think anybody. To hell with this parade, they just took our minds off worrying about the Dean. So when the Public Relations Officer, I didn't know his name, came to the gate we all rushed over to see how the Dean was and he said, "Well he is dead." Oh my God, what a shock. I tell you that, that, that whole summer we went up to Maine, to Popham Beach, and I didn't have any fun at all, really, I couldn't get him off my mind. Oh God, it was terrible. I had a terrible summer. And I remember this time, I went first day registering for classes and everything and I went there, and all of a sudden I got involved, I was in the midst of organizing something, my position there had me organize. And I swear the Lord put his hand on me and said, "Son, forget it." That's how I figured it out, just like turning on the switch I went from a miserable summer thinking about the Dean, I couldn't get him off my mind, and I went there and still felt bad and then bingo, I rolled up my sleeves and went to work. The weight just dropped right off and I said, "My God, the Lord just answered my prayer, I'm healed, I am ready to go to work." It was that fast. And that is when I began to believe in God. And that's how that went. JP: What was the hourglass on his neck? You said there was an hourglass on his neck. MHS: Well I don't know what it was. It was—showed up from the stands. It was red like an hourglass and I said, "I don't know if anybody else noticed it, probably did." I noticed it when I was sitting back there with the Academic Board. And you see, I was on the Academic Board as Registrar, without a vote. Well I didn't give a goddamn whether I voted or not, but I was on the Academic Board without vote, because of my position as Registrar. And so I sat there and looking for anything in particular and I did see that on his neck, and it was bright red, like an hourglass, spider. What's that spider that has an hourglass and is poisonous? JP: Oh, it's a black widow. MHS: Yeah, looked like a black widow spider and I didn't think anything of it, but it showed up and I was kind of, I sat in back and uh, I could see that. Then I poo-pooed the idea, I said, "Oh that's, that's nothing." But then he dropped, of course we didn't know whether he fainted or what it was, he dropped dead, and that whole summer I was, spoiled my summer, spoiled my whole summer. Page 31 JP: Was it a spider on his neck? MHS: I don't know what that was. I don't know what it was. Bright red. And I said "What is that on his neck?" I wasn't going to ask that. Then he dropped, and course we didn't know he died, we thought he could have just fainted, you know, but he dropped dead. And when the Public Relations Officer came through after the parade, I couldn't tell you what went on the parade, I don't think anybody else did either, paid attention to the parade. But they had the awards parade, and then I remember everybody rushed to the gate because the Public Relations man went up the ambulance that picked up the Dean. He came back and we knew he'd have the story on the Dean. So we all rushed to him to see how the dean was, and he said, "He is dead." JP: Oh my goodness. MHS: And let's see. And I remember so plainly. I of course spoiled my summer. That first day I, so I rolled up my sleeves and went to work and it was, I said, "It left me. It stayed with me all summer and bang!" so I turned on a light switch, and I said, "I'm done, I'm through with it, it's done, it's over with it. And I won't grieve no more. I won't grieve anymore." And I didn't and I marveled at what happened because I was—had such a miserable summer and I guess it was just to work, but like turning on a light switch. I went feeling miserable to I said, "I'm healed now, God made that, made that for me," that's what I said [chuckles]. JP: That's nice, that's nice, is there anything else you want to add about Norwich or your service? MHS: I really can't think of, it was important that I almost quit before I started [chuckles]. And Black, Black was—the Corps played tricks on Black7because Black was deaf. He had a hearing thing. He was pretty deaf. He had this hearing thing, he was always twisting it in his ear, everyone knew he was deaf. So they played a trick on him. One time the band was down at the end of the parade so they decided that they wouldn't play it, take their instruments and make believe they were playing and he wouldn't know the difference. So he walks out of here the band appeared to be playing and they weren't and he figured it was his hearing piece and cadets will do those things, you know, when a weakness, they're good at springing in there. [chuckles] They're clever that way JP: They are resourceful. Did you, when you rode horse, at Norwich, in the cavalry training, did you ride Roman style? Did you stand? Did you guys do that thing where you stand on the two horses? MHS: No, they had, no we didn't do that trick riding. We had, it was scheduled like a class, but, or the classes was every other day, meets 3 times a week, this equitation, everybody had to, was 7 LTC John W. Black, USA (ret) Commandant from 1953-1957 Page 32 a class, you got credit for it or met once a week, and that was in the, I guess the riding hall is still down there. Or the stables are there, I guess, not the riding hall is gone, and what you say now? JP: Did you get thrown at all? Or did everyone get thrown? MHS: Oh [clears throat] No. Once we were, we had a night ride and my horse we ended up in a ditch and it just wide enough for a horse and I was—I straddled the horse and I could get out, my feet were pinned in the trench, you know. It was a deep, deep trench, and it was dug, it was a trench I don't know what the purpose of it was. And I kept my feet out because it was wet in there and I got out but my horse couldn't get out. And they got, I don't know how, they got out, I've gone, but they had probably had to dig to get a pathway out, he was wedged right in there and all you could see was his head, [chuckles] head and his rump, with little bit of his rump. And just room enough so he filled that trench right up, you see? So I didn't see what they went through to get him out, of course they finally got the horse out. Now what did you say? JP: Did you get thrown? But it sounds like everybody… MHS: One time I did. I didn't get thrown, but we were galloping toward the, toward the stables and it was a free-for-all and we were going wide open. Well I was riding a horse named Ham, H-A-M, he slipped and he fell, and it landed probably by—my feet were in my stirrups but landed on my leg, but it didn't hurt me. It was a body, you know, soft, just soft and it didn't hurt me at all, didn't even make me lame, it didn't hurt me at all. And I don't know how it did get to stab- going into the stables. And well I was dismounted, because the horse stumbled and fell, so I went with the horse. That was the only time I ever fell off. JP: But the horse fell, yeah, wow. [pauses] You've done a lot of interesting things from flame throwing to… MHS: Probably, you know if you talk long enough, one things leads to another, and you, maybe one or two of them, most important things I probably haven't even mentioned yet, but I, like anybody else, like you or anybody else, you have certain experiences. And if you go off to visit and you come home, your parents want to know what you did, or somebody wants to know what you did and you try to recollect what you did. Things that impressed you. And I said so many things can happen in the situation I was in. I can, one thing can lead to another, probably two or three funny things that happen that I can't remember right now. The art, I went to theater in Morrisville, we called it Bijou Theater and they'd, before the main figure, they needed a comedy, short comedy. One reel, a comedy or a news. So this time I was sitting in the theater the Pathè News came on. It was a Norwich scene, and I said, and I said, I was so surprised, I remember the scene, I said, "I was there!" I don't know if anybody heard me in the theater. And here I was in the theater and here was a scene "I was there! I was there, "I said, "My God, I was there!" It was Pathè News and it was a big news company, worldwide, Pathè News, and somebody like Pathè, P-A-T-H-E, and everybody knew what Pathè News was. And they'd have either that or a comedy. [inaudible] I don't think anybody heard me when I said, "I was there," but I was. Page 33 JP: Where was, what was Pathè News covering? Was it overseas? MHS: It was, it was, they showed the events of Norwich, showed them coming down a steep hill, very steep hill and they're, horses were fighting, you know, as they went. Horses are well-trained, and I guess they have they trust the rider, he knows what he's doing, and they do, they have to trust the rider, so they knew didn't throw anybody, they knew they had to get down, and they were scooting, sliding, they couldn't walk or down or they had to slide down, down they went, dutifully down the steep hill. And Pathè News, which was a big news in those days, it was the big news and they recorded that scene, so that's why I said, "I was there." [chuckles] I was surprised, small world. Well as you try to recollect things, one thing leads, leads to another. If you ask me something, I go off on a tangent and probably have some remarks, yeah [chuckles]. JP: So you worked at Norwich and then you then retired, what did you do after you retired from Norwich? MHS: Let's see now. I retired, oh, I was in, oh I retired from Norwich… JP: In '70….? MHS: Oh I was Norwich for, oh I retired from Norwich, oh I guess went to, let's see. I retired from Norwich, where was I? Where was I living? I was in Chicago when I came home, I was in Chicago and [pauses] oh well I guess I retired. I just retired. Yeah I just retired. JP: So you retired here? MHS: Yeah, I had several incomes. I had 5 incomes, I can't remember all of them—TIA-CREF, a pension, Norwich salary, working at Norwich. And I remember I had 5 incomes. I had a rental income, so I had 5 incomes. So I had a good income, and when I— JP: Did you travel with Issy? Did you and Issy travel to the places? MHS: Well I, when in the Army, yes. Issy went with me. Took about 5 months for a dependent wife down in Japan. A dependent could not go to Japan. They could go to Europe, because that was all settled, but in Japan that came later on. So the wife, so after the war was over in Japan, it took about 5 months to get your dependent wife over. So I was in Japan and Issy joined me in Japan. Well she had a, it was a Washburn, it was teaching school, teaching American schools, just teaching Americans in schools in Japan. No Japanese, American dependents, children. And Issy, they were waiting, Washburn, her husband, she worked in the school system and she knew Issy was a teacher so they desperately need teachers. So I [she] said, "Has Issy got here yet, when's she coming and everything?" So Issy got there 11:00 in the morning and 1:00 she was teaching school, American children [chuckles] and so what we did, we lived—Issy she had a GS-7, that's a federal rating, you know the ratings? And she was a GS-7, which is officer, I mean, so Issy on her own, if she wasn't married to me, well that job she could go to an officer's club. IfPage 34 she was GS-5, she couldn't, but with a GS-7 she could go on her title to an officer's club. So now what were? JP: Issy traveling and teaching in Japan MHS: Yeah. She taught a—I think a graded school, then she had a special class of Japanese. And I didn't think Japanese were very goodly people but by golly, Issy, well she was at the wheel, she had this meeting and she passed out certificates. They passed a certain field in education, she trained them—she was the head of the school system, of that particular school system. And so Issy ran that show and I'm pretty proud of her and by gosh and I sat there and they'd come get their diplomas and oh they were so pleased those Japanese to get their diploma, and I look at them and for the first time I saw a beautiful Japanese girl. Most of them aren't very pretty, but by golly they were that day, I said, "By God, what a beautiful, beautiful girl, they came by me." The Japanese you have to get used to them, they have kind of a flat look like somebody slammed the door on their face or something there they, I couldn't see a pretty one there, but after I'd been there awhile there were some pretty Japanese girls. We had a maid, we were allowed two but we only wanted one. We had a male, he was a handsome Japanese man, young man, but he was a really handsome guy. He wasn't dependable so we let him go, he didn't show up when he felt like it. So we fired him. All we wanted was one anyway, and our quarters was just where we wanted it [phone goes off]. Our quarters were on a block. You could look down south of the yard and see all the shipping in the port. Oh it was a beautiful thing, we were up high and we'd look down and we were, my office was right down at the customs, customs building port of entry in Japan. And we'd, we'd, many a time there would be a cloud, you couldn't see anything, and you'd drive about a quarter or half mile, quarter or half mile, you'd be riding that cloud, when you're in it, you couldn't see much, but it was like a heavy fog. Then you'd come out of it, come out of it there's the blows all laid out for it. It was the headquarters, it was the port of entry for Japan, for commercial shipping, commercial shipping. And I had an office down there. JP: You liked Japan? MHS: I was up on the bluff. Oh I had a real, it was quarters and 388. "Oh I want those quarters." Well what they do, they post them as they come available. I knew 388 had, of all of quarters up on the bluff, way up, looking down, I said, "That is the one I want." Well they'd post - be 5 or 6 housing be available - and when your name got to the top, you got a choice, you take second place, second choice of those say ten or dozen available. And if you didn't take it, you're holding up someone, then your name went down to the bottom of the list. So you, so you couldn't get top and stay in the top. If you didn't take something, holding up for something better, you went down the bottom. So they said you couldn't do that. So I, my number didn't come up and wasn't my time to choose yet and I said, "Oh geez I hope that number doesn't come up too soon." And so my number came up, a group of people for housing, you like to stay there, at such time that you can get housing for you, you had to be there a little while before you got housing, say 10 days or something like that to get housing and that's it, oh man I said, 'Oh God, I Page 35 hope that 388 is there, if isn't I'm screwed, 'cause that's the one I wanted,' and it hadn't been on the list at all, my name was on it, that's where my lame name come up, then you got to choose, and if you don't, then you get down the bottom of the list, so you got to choose, and 'Bam' me, 388, and 'Bam,' just I wanted so I was high on the bluff and I could look down at the shipping and the port, it was way up high on the bluff, oh God it was nice. JP: What port was it, what was the name of the port, do you remember? MHS: The port? JP: Yeah, what town was it? MHS: I think it was the main port of entry, had a big huge beautiful brick building. JP: Was it Tokyo? MHS: Yeah, no, no Yokohama, Tokyo was about 17 miles I think it didn't take long because it had a beautiful, I think, 2 way highway between Yokohama and Tokyo. So you can get to Yokohama, you can be in Yokohama, and you can be in Tokyo in 20 minutes, you couldn't drive very fast. It had this beautiful road but the—I think you're limited 25 miles an hour, and I got stopped once I thought I was staying, and the GI, GI's they wrote me up I guess for speeding, I think I was going probably 26 miles an hour, something like that, and I got a ticket from a GI but he was authorized to do it, he was an MP. JP: What did you drive, what kind of car were you driving? MHS: I had a, I had Buicks, I had a new Buick, I bought a new Buick and two weeks after I bought it, I got my call to report to, I was in New England, in Vermont, to get, Seattle I think it was, a certain time no San Francisco, be in San Francisco. Then when I got in San Francisco, then Roosevelt directed me to Seattle, I got to San Francisco, then for two or three days, then they sent me to Seattle, so I shipped out of, originally it said San Francisco, but they sent me to San Francisco, I waited then they sent me to Seattle and I shipped out of Seattle for Japan, does that answer your question? JP: That's good, so you liked Japan? MHS: Yeah, so my—your car follows you by about 2 weeks so they ship your car but you have to wait about 2 weeks, before your car catches up with you. So I did, so I had a new Buick and I traded every year for a new Buick with the Japanese people, they're nice people and what I did was I'd buy a new Buick after a year I turned it in and they'd give me another new Buick. No deprecation or anything, so I got 3 brand new Buicks at no cost, and when I got home, I sold it for what I paid for it, you couldn't raise the price on a new car. That was a Japanese law, you couldn't raise a price on a new car, you could on a used car. So what they would do is buy a new car, and if you didn't want put it up on the market, then they'd probably double the money, you Page 36 couldn't sell a new car beyond the market price. Well I wanted a, they had 4 Cadillacs, well I guess I was—I was outranked or something another, I didn't get the Cadillac anyways, they only had 4. So I said to the Japanese, I said, 'Don't you now wished now you sold me the Cadillac, because I said I would sold it back to you?' that's what I did with my new Buick. I said I sold it back to you, double your money, and said, 'Yes we could have.' That was—I was too late. [chuckles] Background voice: I'm sorry to interrupt, we're about to leave, and we're about to pull out of the garage. JP: Oh, sure, well, do you have anything else you want to add Moe? MHS: Not unless, you have any questions. JP: I just want to thank you, truly for giving me the time and all this wonderful information. MHS: I like to rehash old times and I have to stop to think, to, you forget these things, but I was, I remember I felt like, I said, 'God's with me and I was an unknown major, and I had been there 3 days, and I was named the General Staff and I said, 'Uh huh,' I said, 'there must be hundreds of majors that would give their ITs to be on the General Staff,' and I was a new major, and somebody God, somebody lead me to them or me, and after 3 days I got a job on the General Staff, and I thank God for that, I said, 'God had a hand in that.' [chuckles] JP: That's certainly true, well you must have been good, [both interrupt] MHS: Oh well, I don't know…

Issue 46.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1987. ; Modern Media and Comn~unity Vocation Directors and Sexuality Trends in Spirituality--1986 An Experience of Group Direction Volume 46 Number 2 March/April, 1987 Rl~v~l~w VOR RIz~,~c;~ous (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with faculty members of St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies. The editorial offices are located at 3601 Lindell Blvd., Room 428: St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvw.w RF~l_~c,~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO © 1987 by REv~.w ~:OR RV, t,~G~OtJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription: U.S.A. $11.00 a year: $20.00 for two years¯ Other countries: add $4.00 per year (surface mail)¯ Airmail (Book Rate): $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: R~:viFzw vor~ R~:~Acaot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F.X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1987 Volume 46 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the edilor should be sent to REVIEW I.'OR R~:~.~taotls: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~'ou RE~,W.~o~s: Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393, "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The Fi st Stage tO"Union: The Active Night Of the .Senses Susan A. Muto Doctor Muto is Director of Duquesne's Institute of Formative Spirituality (Duquesne University; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282). St. John of the Cross' teaching in the first book of the Ascent of Mount Carmel presupposes that the sojourner has reached that stage in the spiritual life where he or she Js ready to advance beyond the beginnings of prayer and awaken to the deeper regions of divine intimacy. Thus he writes here for (advanced) beginners and persons already proficient in such virtues as detachment, humility and charity. The aim of Book One is threefold: to help an already well,formed self, one who has tasted certain pleasures and satisfactions, to unburden itself of worldly, inordinate attachments; to share the knowledge the saint has gathered through his own reading, experience, and direction as to how souls are to avoid spiritual obstacles; and to describe in concrete detail the way in which one can live in the freedom of spirit necessary, for divine union. It is wise at this point to read the poem, "One Dark Night," and return to it, for its moving images teach--more than abstract concepts can--how happy the soul is to pass through the nights of sense and spirit to union with its Beloved. In the Prologue to Book One the master says that his guides on this journey will be, above all, the desire for God, along with the background wisdom provided by Sacred Scripture and the doctrine of the Church. He immediately identifies two main obstacles to advancement, these being, in a phrase, inadequate direction and inadequate appraisal. Spiritual directors, 161 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 lacking both sufficient knowledge and experience.of what is happening to the pilgrim soul may unwittingly encourage persons to continue in their old ways. Then, too, the person himself or herself may neither know how to nor want to advance. Even if the Lord comes, they are not willing to adapt themselves to his work. They resist the flow of grace or refuse to cooperate. Thus: God gives many souls the talent and grace for advancing, and should they desire to make the effort they would arrive at this high state. And so it is sad to see them continue in their lowly method of communion with God because they do not want or know how to advance, or because they receive no direction on breaking away from the methods of beginners (AMC, I, Prologue, 3/70).* Failing to understand that God is the author of this enlightenment, ill-prepared directors may urge persons, instead of advancing, to return to former ways of prayer or to make many general confessions. They do not realize that now is not the time for such activity: Indeed it is a period for leaving these persons alone in the pu~'gation God is working in them, a time to give comfort and encouragement that they may desire to endure this suffering as long as God wills, for until then, no remedy--whatever the soul does, or the confessor says--is adequate (AMC, I, Prologue, 5/71). Having said this, St. John begins in Chapters One and Two to explain the imagery of'the "night" that will guide both him and the soul. Early evening or twilight marks the point of departure, the time of purgation, for the soul will experience deprivations of its appetites for worldly pleasure, possessiohs; powers. As one mortifies these, one is led deeper into the night--to the midnight hour of dense darkness where the only means of progress is faith, where intellect is deprived of its normal modes of knowing so that one may be made ready for the secret and intimate self-communications of God. The night eventually gives way to daybreak, to the dawn, which symbolizes the point of God's arrival, the time of love's illumination transformed into perfect union with the Lover: Thus these phases of the night encompass the threefold path of purgation, illumination, and union, not as something accomplished once and for all in linear fashion, but as an ongoing cycle of deprivation, restoration, and transformation. One discovers through the nights of sense and spirit that, as St. Teresa of Avila says, on this walk through life God alone suffices. No object of sense, no concept, image, or idea, can fulfill our infinite desire. The point of Chapter Three is to identify the first cause of this night as the "privation"~or deprivation of perverted desires or appetites. Perhaps The First Stage to Union this is St. John's way of explaining, as a necessary condition for.spiritual deepening, control of the pleasure principle. This control actually effects a rechanneling of vital energies so that they flow from and return to their transcendent source. We must go through this "night" in order to restore the equilibrium thrown off by excessive attachment to the gratifications afforded by our relations, sensually speaking, to persons, things and events. It is clear from the context of this chapter that St. John believes that all creation is good; nothing is evil in itself. Ideally we ought to proceed from the manifestations of God to God himself. In reality, due to the spiritual blindness imposed by our fallen condition, we cling frantically to these vital gratifications. By refusing to let them go, we disavow them. as pointers to their Creator. We tend to make them ultimate sources of pleasure or posses-sion. They become idols or ends in themselves. The result of not entering the night of sense deprivation is, therefore, an increase of formation igno-rance or forgetfulness of our true transcendent" nature--the dynamic that marks our most distinctive human quality. Hence, we need the "night" to reawaken our capacity to remember the Creator in our sense perception of creatures. That is to say, we must see through the visible to the invisible Reality. We are not to remain only on the surface of things but to behold in faith the depth dimension. By darkening the senses of hearing, seeing, smelling, tasting and touching, one is paradoxically free and empty of all things, even though one possesses them. In short: "Since the things of the world cannot enter the soul, they are not in themselves an encumbrance or harm to it; rather, it is the will and appetite dwelling within it that causes the damage" (AMC, 1, 3, 5/77). St. John now goes on, in effect, in Chapters Four and Five to suggest three steps to follow on this phase of the journey through the dark night to God. They are, in a word, remembrance, comparison and renunciation., In the first place, to be freed from this idle/idol illusion, one must strive to remember the right relation between creation and the Creator. Curiously enough, this re-membering has to do with dismembering, that is, of divesting ourselves of inordinate attachments to things as they are in themselves, as if they could be separated f~om their Creator. To dismember a thing as ultimate is to re-member it as dependent on God.Such detachment, while painful, helps one to appreciate things much more as manifestations of the goodness of God. By contrast, one who is clothed in these affections (versus dis-membered) will be "incapable of the enlightenment and dominating full-ness of God's pure and simple light, unless he rejects them" (AMC, I, 4, 1/77-78). Harsh as it may sound, St. John holds firm to his conviction that the light of divine union cannot be established in the soul until these (inordi-nate) affections are eradicated. A more positive way of making the point 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 might be to ~ay t~at when our idolizing ~lesire to take pleasure in and to possess things as such is mortified, we can appreciate them as they are in their pristine origin and beauty. We move in this way from a posture of violence and control to one of love and letting be, from an attitude of manipulation and calculation to one of compassion. A second helpful step at this stage of the journey is to set up a comparison between the finite, limited nature of things as distinct from the "how much more" of the infinite. For example, the Sea of Galilee compared to the sea of God's love is like a drop of water compared to the Pacific Ocean. Simi-larly, creatures, however beautiful, elegant and abundant they may be, com-pared to their Creator are as darkness compared to light, are as coarseness compared to grace, or ignorance compared to ability. Through this exercise in comparison, St. John introduces us to the Reality Principle, namely, he wants us to see things as they really are in their limited value and as pointers to the limitlessness of thei'r Lord. Via this comparison, we will be better able to break the tendency to make any "little beyond" into the "True Be~,ond"' and hence _to. r_is_k !nitiating a pseud.o-spirituality that invests in something finit~ the richness of the Infinite. Understanding this point of comparison enables us to read Chapter Four as a litany of praise to our Creator God: ¯ . . all the being of creatures compared with the infinite being of God is nothing . All the beauty of creatures compared with the infinite Beauty of God is supreme ugliness . All the grace and elegance of creatures compared with God's grace is utter coarseness and crudity. (AMC, l, 4, 4/79). Here St. John would agree fully with St. Paul that the wisdom of the world is mere foolishness in God's sight (1 Co 3:19). Clearly, the meaning of these statements does not intend for us to reject creaturely being, beauty, grace and ability as bad, but to place these attributes in their proper rela-tion to God. They will all pass away, but not his word. Creaturely qualities, no matter how rich, are ultimately poor in comparison to the Being, Beauty, Elegance and Wisdom of God. Our hope resides not in this or that momen-tary pleasure or possession but in God alone. If the first step out of illusion is to remember our nothingness without God, then the second step is to compare his eternal truth with whatever is temporal. The promise he makes to us is more trustworthy than any stopping place on the path of formation. Thus it is up to us to keep running the race to the end, which means not resting ultimately in anything but God, for, as St. Augustine has said so beautifully, our hearts are restless until they rest in him. Or, to again quote St. John: The First Stage to Union All the sovereignty and freedom of the world compared with the f~eedom and sovereignty of the Spirit of God is utter slavery, anguish, and cap-tivit3; . All the delights and satisfactions of the will in the things of the world in contrast to all the delight that is God is intense suffering, tor-ment and bitterness . All the wealth and, glory of creation compared with the wealth that is God is utter poverty and misery in the Lord's sight (AMC, I, 4, 6, 7/80). The third step, as suggested in Chapter Five, is the most radical, for St. John says that total renunciation is the condition par excellence for pure transformation. Here paradox prevails, Just as knowing is only possible in unknowing, so freedom of spirit or liberation is the result of detachment or renunciation. One must empty the appetite of all the natural and super-natural things which can be a hindrance to the journey to God. This kenotic experience does not happen once and for all but demands habitual effort in cooperation with the graces God is bestowing. The language here allows for no compromise: , The road and ascent to God, then, necessarily, demands a habitualeffort to renounce ~nd mortify the appetites; the sooner this mortification is achieved~ the sooner the soul re~ches the top. But until the appetiteff are eliminated, a person will not arrive, no matter how much virtue he practices. For he will fail to acquire perfect virtue, which lies in keeping the soul empty, naked and purified of every appetite (AMC, I, 5, 6/83). If we desire to climb the summit of the mount "in order to become an altar for the offering of a sacrifice of pure love and praise," we must strive to accomplish three.tasks, described through the following metaphors: first, we must "cast out strange gods," meaning that we have to let go of any affections and attachments that tend to alienate us from God; secondly, we must purify ourselves of their residue through habitual denial (saying no for the sake of a greater yes) and--for as often as we fail to do so-- through habitual, confident repentance (trusting that God's mercy responds with motherly tenderness to our misery); and, thirdly, we must take on a "change of garments," meaning that we must be clothed in a "new under-standing of God [through the removal of the understanding of the old man], and in a new love of God in God . " In this way, we move from igno-rance of who we really are toward acceptance of our being made in the form and likeness of God, of our being, as St. John puts it, "his worthy dwelling." The saint is one who says with every fiber of his or her being: "My God and my all!" One accepts this truth without flinching: "The only appetite God permits and wants in his dwelling place is the desire for the perfect fulfillment of his law and the carrying of his cross" (AMC, I, 5, 8/84). Having reflected on the meaning and demands of total renunciation and "166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 the liberation it brings, St. John moves on in the next five chapters (Six through Ten) to analyze the harms the appetites engender in the soul. There are two main areas of harm, the one privative, the other positive. In general, unruly appetites deprive us of God's spirit. By our attachment to a created thing weoare less capable of soaring free to God. St. John relies for his reason-ing on the philosophical fact that two contraries cannot coexist in the same person. Therefore, "Since love of God and attachment to creatures are con-traries, they cannot coexist in the same will" (AMC, I, 6, 2/85). In biblical terms, rather than accept our privilege as children of God to eat at his table, we act like dogs who must eat the crumbs that fall to the floor. We refuse to rise from the "crumbs" of creatures to the uncreated Spirit of the Father. It stands to reason that "this uncreated fullness cannot find entry to a soul until this other hunger caused by the desires is expelled" (AMC, I, 6, 3/85). As to the second harm, which is positive, we must realize that numerous. impediments are wrought in the soul by inordinate appetites, the most obvious of these being that they weary, torment, darken, defile and weaken the true seeker. Our spiritual life suffers in the first place because these appe-tites weary and tire us to death. He compares them to restless, discontented children, who wear their mothers out trying to please them. Satisfied at one moment, they demand more satisfaction the next. The more one quiets their cravings, the more demanding they become. One feels increasingly agitated, disturbed, fatigued. Like the pulsion governing physical hunger or sexual need, so appetites in general are stirred to satisfy themselves endlessly. St. John makes this analogy: Just as a lover is wearied and depressed when on a longed-for day his oppor-tunity is frustrated, so is a man wearied and tired by all his appetites and their fulfillment, because the fulfillment only causes more hunger and empti-ness. An appetite, as they say, is like a fire that blazes up when wood is thrown on it, but necessarily dies out when the wood is consumed (AMC, I, 6, 6/87). Such desires make it impossible for us to live in the longing for God alone, for instead of him, weexpect them to satisfy us. It is as if we keep looking for heaven on earth. Thus we become ready victims of illusory promises of fulfillment. We give in to the pressures of consumerism. In both cases the sad reward is discontent, for we have turned unwittingly from God who alone can satisfy us. These inordinate appetites not only wear us-out, they also torment us. They gnaw at us mercilessly, as if we were bound by tight cords or tortured on a rack. The torment would be comparable to that which a person suffers who lies naked on thorns and nails; who is in pain; who knows no peace; who is always thirsty. In contrast to what happens to us when the cord of The First Stage to Union / 167 desires tightens around us, when the possessions we cling to desperately possess us, think of the liberation of the children of God. Consider the refreshing peace that is ours when we surrender our will to his. Instead of wasting our efforts, why don't we delight in the abundance of God? We should learn to see that this movement to~vard abundance is a departure from the pleasures of crea-tures, because the creature torments, while the Spirit of God refreshes'.' -Accordingly, God calls us through St. Matthew. as though he were to say: All you going about tormented, afflicted, and weighed down by your cares and appetites, depart from them, come to me and I will refresh you; and you will find the rest for your souls that the desires take away from you (Mt 11:28-29) (AMC, 1, 7, 4/88-89). Thirdly, these self-centered desires blind us. It is as if we are living behind a cloudy pane of glass that blocks out the bright sunshine. We see only a hazy image of things--not things as they really are. Due to this blindness, it is impossible for us to think clearly. It is as if the powers of our transcen-dent mind are dulled by the excessive demands of the vital or functional spheres. Both natural reason and supernatural wisdom are darkened. And when the intellect is obscured, the will becomes weak and the memory dis-ordered. The desire for const'an~ pleasure or sensual stimulation makes reflec-tive living a virtual impossibility. Things go from bad to worse because the intellect is incapable of receiving the illumination of God's wisdom; ttie will cannot embrace the pure love of God; and the memory lessens its capacity for the impression of the serenity of God's image upon it. Unless these blinding desires are mortified, one will not advance on the way of union. It stands to reason that if the~e unruly appetites lead a person, he or sh~ is bound to be blind to the'mind's appraisal powers. One reacts on impulse, without the help of a quiet attunement to the Christ form in the core of one's being. All that is released is the counterfeit form of con-cupiscence and pride. No amount of penance can overcome this darkness if one does not root out the source of the trouble, namelyl the blinding blockage of inordinate desires. They are like a ~ataract on the eye or specks of dust in°it. Until they are removed, they obstruct vision. One way or another, in this life or in the next, these appetites have to be chastised and corrected. They have to underg6 purgation before any steady progress in the spiritual life can take place. St. John laments this condition of forma-tion ignorance in language reminiscent of the prophets: Oh, if men but knew what a treasure of divine light this blindness caused by their affections and appetites deprives them of, and the number of mis-fortunes and evils these appetites occasion each day when left unmorti-fle!! . At every step we mistake evil for good and good for evil. 16~i / Review for Religious., March-April, 1987 This is peculiar to our nature. But what will happen if appetite is added to our natural darkness? . We have felt our way along the way as though blind, we have groped as if without eye,s, and our blindness has reached the point that we stumble along in broad daylight as though walk-ing in the dark (AMC, I, 8, 6, 7/91). Using even stronger language, St. John assures us that such blind desires stain ,and defile the soul, bringing it into bondage under the rule of the autarchic-pride form, and blackening the beauty of the christ form we are called to release. We are like someone who is stained by pitch or blacker than coal--and yet we are meant to be whiter than snow or milk. This is so because even the disordered soul remains in substantial union with God. It "possesses in its natural being the perfection that God bestowed when creating .it," even though in its rational being it is full of the defilement described here. We cannot grow in Christ-likeness until this defilement, is checked by formative detachment. The tragedy is that these inclinations keep us away from the peace God is drawing us toward in the life of union. incredible as it may sound: One inordinate appetite alone., suffices to make a soul so captive, dirty, and unsightly that,until the appetite is purified the soul is incapable of con-formity with God in union. This is true even though there may be no matter for mortal sin in the appetite. What thenwill b~.the ugliness of a soul entirely disordered in its passions and surrendered to its appetites? How far it will be from God and his purity (AMC, I, 9, 3/92-93). It follows that all three faculties of the soul are affected by this kind of attachment. Just as one bad spot spoils an entire garment, so intellect, memory, and will are defiled by disordered desires. . The end result is that such desires render us lukewarm, spiritually speaking. Appetites that go unmortified eventually sap the soul of the strength it needs to persevere in the practice of virtue. In this weakened state, ours is an on-again, off-again spirituality. We are usually overdependent on consolations and only sporadically attracted to steady discipline. Appetites, as it were, divide and conquer us, whereas asceticism unites our inner faculties and makes us stronger. Lacking this discipline, we feel scattered. Our faith is easily challenged. We may.be open targets for exalted schemes that promise salvation through a wide door, not a narrow gate. We would like to master God rather than allow him to master us. What matters most is not his will but our own interpretation of the easy way. Without purgation and ongoing appraisal of the direction of our spiritual life, self-gratification, not God, becomes our center. As far as St. John is concerned, this would be hell on earth. Instead of copcentrating on strength-ening our practice of virtue, all we care about is satisfying our desii~es, Little The First Stage to Union / 169 wonder, then, that they rob us of what we already have. Unmortified appe-tites result in killing our relationship with God. Because we did not put them gently but firmly to death first, they live on to kill us. For what difference does it make if we win the whole world and lose our soul? Having spelled out in vivid detail the privative and positive harms appe-tites can cause in the soul, St. John explains again in Chapters Eleven and Twelve what kinds of appetites are detrimental to the soul. To do so he distinguishes three kinds of appetites, moving from the least to the most detrimental, these being the natural ones, the "semivoluntary and the voluiatary. Natural movements, as, for example, an ear for and an attraction to good music, are of little or no hindrance to the attainment of union, provided we do not make them the center of our attention nor pass beyond the first stage of spontaneous affinity in which the rational will plays no part. Because we are a body-mind-spirit unity, because we are born with certain givens in the realm of temperament, disposition and talent, it is impossible to eradi-cate natural appetites in this life, and, were we to do so, it would most likely be deformative. TheSe movements go hand in hand with our creatureliness. One can be experiencing them in the sensitive part of one's being, as, for instance, a hunger pang, and yet be free of the desire for food at this moment, as, for instance, during a liturgy, in the rational part of one's being. These movements can even be stirring in a person who is experiencing an intense union of will in the prayer of quiet. These appetites may actually dwell in the sensory part of the soul, yet the superior part pays no attention to them, just as there can be foam on the ocean's surface and deep calm underneath the sea. One. may even feel certain sexual stirrings without in the least detract-ing from one's absorption in God in the center of one's being. As long as one pays no attention to them--rletting them buzz in and out like flies but not stopping to swat them--one need not be concerned about them. Such is not the case with the other appetites--~whether the less grave, which involve venial sin, or the most serious, which involve mortal sin. The trouble with natural movements, which are the least of them all, is that one can consent to them and be forthwith ~aught up in imperfections that are contrary to God's will. If one is to reach (he perfection of union with God through one's will and love, it is obvious that one must be freed from every appetite, howe~,er slight. One must have the strength and freedom to be able--in the face of temptation--to refuse consent. There is a difference between "ad~,ertence" Or "knowingly" falling into imperfections, and "inad-vertence" or falling without much knowledge or control of the matter. These are the semivoluntary sins because of which it is said that the just man will fall seven times a day and rise up again. Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 The real problem resides with the voluntary appetites. Anyone of these, even the most trifling, is sufficient to impede union. Especially problematic are the "habitual appetites," because scattered acts rooted in diverse desires are not such a hindrance. They are not a determine~l habit--yet ultimately the soul must be liberated of these too since they both proceed from and may lead to habitual imperfection. Habitual, voluntary imperfections that are not completely mortified not only stand in the way of divine union but also hinder spiritual prog~ress as such. St. John gives some examples of what he means by habitual imperfections (those deformed dispositions that prevent us from responding fully and freely to the call to love). ¯ . . the common habit of loquacity; a small attachment one never really desires to conquer, for example, to a person, to clothing, to a book or a cell, or to .the way food is prepared, and to other trifling conversa-tions . Any of these habitual imperfections, and attachment to them, causes as much harm to an individual as ,would the daily commission of many other imperfections (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). Harsh as it may sound, St. John will not compromise his conviction that such an attachment, however trifling it ma~, seem, will make it impossible in the long run for one to progress in perfection. Something as simple as insisting on the same place in a church pew, and compelling others to crawl over one, can hinder the spiritual flight the saint is talking about. The point is: It makes little difference whether a bird is tied by a thin thread or by a cord. For even if tied by thread, the bird will be prevented from taking off just as surely as if it were tied by cold--that is, it ~vill be impeded from flight as long as it does not break the thread . This is the lot of a man who is attached to something: no matter how much virtue he has he will not reach the freedom of divine union (AMC, I, 11, 4/97). In one text after another, St. John comes back to this issue. How regret-table that a soul laded like a rich vessel with the wealth of good deeds, spiritual exercisesand virtues never leaves port because one lacks the courage to break the rope of a little satisfaction, attachment or affection. God gives them the power to sever other stronger cords while they cling to some childish act or thing God ask~ them to overcome for love of him. Not only do they fail to advance; they even turn back for so ,mething that amounts to no more than a thread or a hair. And, "Everyone knows that not to go forward on this road is to turn back, and not to gain ground is to lose." The goal of union demands that we do not stop on the road, but that we continually mortify our appetites rather than indulge them. For how can a log of wood be transformed into the fire if a single degree of heat is lacking to its prepa- The First Stage to Union ration? Similarly, itis St. John's contention that the soul "will not be trans-formed in God even if it has only one imperfection." This is so because a person has only one will, and if this is encumbered or occupied by any-thing, it will not possess the freedom, solitude and purity requisite for divine transformation. Complementing these clarifications from Chapter Eleven are a few of his Sayings of Light and Love, for example, Saying 23--"He who does not allow his appetites to carry him.away will soar in his spirit as swiftly as the bird that lacks no feathers" (668). Returning to the topic of the kinds of harm the appetites can cause in the soul, St. John explains, in regard to privative evil or the loss of grace, that only the voluntary appetites whose object may involve mortal sin can do this~completely--that is, deprive the soul of grace in this life, and glory, the possession of God, in the next. The positive evils (weariness, torment, blindness, defilement, weakness) correspond in general to a turning toward creatures, just as the privative involve an aversion from God. Naturally, the degree of harm depends on whether the appetite leads to mortal or venial sin, whether it is voluntary or semivoluntary. The harm. caused by each appe-tite can be direct or indirect. For example, vainglory positively harms the soul in all the ways mentioned, but it most principally darkens and blinds it. The point to keep in mind is that all these evils together oppose the acts of virtue, which generate the contrary and corrective effect. For example, a virtuous act produces in one mildness, peace, comfort, light, purity, and strength; an inordinate appetite brings with it torment, fatigue, and so on. In short: "Through the practice of one virtue all the virtues grow, and similarly, through an increase in one vice, all the vices and their effects grow" (AMC, I, 12, 5/100). Don't we all know from experience (think of that overstuffed feeling after a too rich meal) that "the appetite when satisfied seems .sweet and, pleasant, but eventually the sour effect is felt." We cannot avoid this basic truth that if and when we allow ourselves to be carried away by our appetites, the bitter effect of losing our-selves in vitalistic feelings or functionalistic preoccupations is inevitable. Such is not the case with the natural, involuntary appetites. Though disturbances in this realm may seem to defile one, the actual resistance of them has the opposite effect. In this struggle one wins strength, purity and many other blessings, for as our Lord told St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). Since, in conclusion, it is the voluntary appetites that bring on all these evils--and even more--the chief concern of spiritual directors with their directees ought to be the "immediate mortification of every appe-tite." Nothing less than this emptiness-will liberate them. We come now to the famous Chapter Thirteen of Book One of the Ascent in which St. John delineates some counsels pertaining to the active night 179 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 of the senses or how one can conquer and overcome voluntary appetites. Though one is doing what one can, this very action is dependent on the "already-thereness" of God's grace, prompting one to enter this night and thereby come "quickly" to the passive way in which God accomplishes this work in us. What is this "abridged method" that leads us from~nothing to everything, from emptiness to fullness, from renunciation to liberation, from being bound to soaring free? It proceeds in a series of steps, which we shall summarize here. 'First and foremost comes the habitual desire to imitate Christ in all of one's deeds. Nothing is more important on the way of perfection than bring-ing our lives into conformity with his. This being with the Christ form implies the ongoing reading (lectio continua) of the Scriptures together with their more concentrated study (lectio divina). Knowing him through his words and actions, we can better emulate his attitudes in our own situation, thus drawing our entire existence more and more into union and communion with his. It follows that to succeed in this imitation, we need to calm down and by and large renounce sensory satisfactions severed from that which gives honor and glory to God. We cannot do this on basis of willpower alone; our motivation must emerge not from fear but from our love of the Lord who came to show us how we are to go through him to the Father. His one desire in life was to fulfill the Father's will, which "he called his meat and food" (Jn 4:34). What does this decision mean concretely? The key resides in the phrase "do not desire," and it means do not desire to hear, . look upon, act, take pleasure in anything that is unrelated to the service and glory of God. St. John would never be against enjoying good music, if we have an ear for it, of appreciating the beauty of art or nature, or in delivering or hearing a moving sermon. What bothers him is our tendency to stop at this literal level instead of going through and beyond it to the transliteral, sacred mystery. One cannot help but experience satisfaction in these sensory goods. The important directive is not to desire the gratifica-tion as such but to desire the God who gratifies. By this method, we leave the senses, as it were, in darkness and, from the spiritual point of view, "gain a great deal in a short time." Such vigilance, perhaps understood as purity or singleness of heart, leads to the tranquilizing or harmonizing of the natural passions of joy, hope, fear, and sorrow--four emotions that constitute the basis of the active purga-tion of the will by love in Book III, Chapter Sixteen ff, of the Ascent. Here it is sufficient to present a few maxims that represent a first formula for pacifying these passions while practicing many virtues. Note here as well that what we are pacifying is the passion for (inordinate attachment to) satis- The First Stage to Union / 17'3 factions that are self-centered; expectations that are willful; anxieties rooted in our search for security; and depressions due to lack of control, and not having things go our way. Only if we understand this can we understand and accept as wise these well-known maxims: Endeavor to be inclined always: not to the easiest, but to the most difficult; not to the most delightful, but to the harshest; not to the most gratifying, but to the less pleasant; not to what means rest for you, but to hard work; not to the consoling, but to the unconsoling; not to the most, but to the least; not to the highest and most precious, but to the lowest and most despised; not to wanting something, but to wanting nothing; do not go about looking for the best of temporal things, but for the worst, and desire to enter into complete nudity, emptiness and poverty in everything in the world (AMC, 'I, 13, 6/102-103). This passage may seem life-denying, slightly masochistic, to say noth-ing of the impossibility of reaching or doing, if we overlook the crucial phrase at the beginning, which says "Endeavor to be inclined always . " This is the same as saying "Strive," "Try," "Foster the inclination" to develop that "sixth sense" that guides our call to be a true follower of Christ, which implies inevitably to deny ourselves and to take up our cross for his sake. As witnesses to the Gospel, we ought to be ever more proficient in detecting what in us operates on basis of the pride form and what in us gives assent to the Christ form. For did he not choose the "narrow way" that was, by human standards, most diffic.u~lt, harshest, less pleasant? Did he not work so hard to accomplish our salvation that he had nowhere on which to rest his head? Was his agony not unconsoling? Was he not numbered among the least of men? Among the most despised? What did he want except to fulfill the will of the Father? If this is true, and if we want to walk with him, then we too must practice the poverty of spirit by which he emptied himself and became like a slave for our sake. Thus in these counsels, St. John is indicating concretely how we are to accomplish the imitation of Christ. With his help, we can learn to embrace them earnestly and overcome the aversion we may feel toward them. By entering into nothingness, we enter into nothing-butness--for nothing but God will satisfy the heart that loves him. Such a life practiced with order and discretion (for these mortifications are means toward union, not union itself), enable us to live in faithfulness to our unique call to discipleship. What is easiest and what is most difficult depends, of course, on who we "174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are. It may be easiest for a research scientist not to spend tedious hours in his laboratory looking for formulas that will benefit human health when he would rather be on the golf course. Hence, what is difficult and done for Christ is to maintain his place in the lab, putting his God-given gifts to work. For another, the most difficult.may be to overcome his shyness and meet colleagues on the golf course, thus tempering his workaholic ten-dency and relaxing so he may be a better servant for the Lord. These decisions are dependent on the appraisal powers of our transcendent mind and will, but behind this appraisal stands the basic counsel, "Endeavor to be inclined always" to imitate Christ and to be ready to do what is most consonant with our call to radical discipleship. This commitment will inevitably lead us through the narrow way of the night of the senses, for we will have to die to the old, unredeemed, fleshy pride form, the "pride of life," as St. John calls it, for this "concupiscence" reigns in the world, as separated from God, and gives rise to all the appe-tites. Toward this pride form, we are to try to act with contempt, speak with contempt, and think with contempt. Nothing short of this radical rejec-tion of pride will ready us for radical discipleship. This contemptuous no is for the sake of a greater yes. We are saying no to formation ignorance, to its remote cause which is the pride form, and to its proximate causes, such as the immersion in vitalism, the escape in functionalism, the evasion of interformative responsibility. In saying no to the pride form, we are taking the first necessary step to combating demonic seduction (the deception that we are in charge of our destiny) and growing strong in Christ for the greater struggle to come in the dark night, where our only guide is faith. These counsels are thus an essential preliminary for formation freedom. For only if we desire nothing can we allow God to give us all. In summary, to mortify "the concupiscence of the flesh" means to ceas~ allowing the vital dimension of the life form to be a substitute for the tran-scendent. It means the end of downward transcendence. To mortify "the concupiscence of the eyes" means to cease allowing the functional dimension to dominate our existence with its penchant for envious competition and ego control. It means the end of horizontal transcendence. And, ultimately, to mortify "the pride of life" means to root out the source of our trouble and to pursue upward transcendence, in which the vital and functional spheres become servants of the ascent to God. Such are St. John's basic instructions for climbing to the summit, "the high state of union." Now perhaps we can understand and absorb with relief his concluding counsels., for if we read them properly, they will tell us to desire nothing in order to allow God to give everything. Thus: The First Stage to Union / 175 To reach satisfaction in all desir~e its possession in nothing. To come to possess all desire the possession of nothing. To arrive at being all desire to be nothing. To come to the knowledge of all desire the knowledge of nothing. To come to the pleasure you have not you must go by a way in which you enjoy not. To come to the knowledge you have not you must go by a way in which you know not. To come to the possession you have not you must go by a way in which you possess not. To come to be what you are not you must go by a way in which you are not. When you turn toward something you cease to cast yourself upon the All. For to go from all to the All you must deny yourself of all in all. And when you come to the possession of the all you must possess it without wanting anything. Because if you desire to have something in all your treasure in God is not purely your all. In this nakedness the spirit finds its quietude and rest. For in coveting nothing nothing raises it up and nothing weighs it down, because it is in the center of its humiliiy. When it covets something in this very desire it is wearied. What St. John is saying in these remarkable verses is that one will reach satisfaction in all, possession of~all, being all one desires, only if one desires nothing but God. One will know much in the knowledge and remembrance that one is no-thing. One is a child of God, emerging from him and returning to him--not an object of one's own pleasure or satisfaction, but his child, with all the dignity that one is afforded thereby. Thus if we want a pleasure higher than any vital stimulation, if we want an understanding greater than any reason can conclude, if we want to possess more than any collection of material or spiritual goods can yield, if we want to be who we most deeply are, then we must follow this narrow way of 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 enjoying what we don't know, of understanding One who is incomprehen-sible, of possessing what we can never fully own--for the divine mystery will ~ilways escape our urge to master it. Indeed, to be who we are we must go by this way in which our pride form is not, in which we are increasingly naughted, in which it is noI longer we who live but Christ who lives in us. Every time we turn toward some thing, person, or event as ultimate or absolute, we turn away from the Lord of all. We cease to cast ourselves upon his mercy, forgiveness, love. To go from the all (God's gifts every-where) to the All (God himself), we must deny ourselves of the All (God), that is, the illusion that the All can be found in or contained in all. God is beyond every little idol we try to create. And even when we possess him, we must do so in a letting-be attitude, without wanting anything but him as he reveals himself. Because if we desire to have something, for example, more consolations or signs of his love, then our treasure in God is not purely or wholly in him as our all, but only in his consolations. The more we reflect on this message, the more we discover that only in this nakedness, this emptiness of spirit, can the soul find its rest. In coveting, in desiring, nothing but God's will, one experiences real tranquil-lity. Whether in adversity or prosperity, whether in consolation or desola-tion, nothing raises one up and nothing weighs one down. It is a blessed state to live in the center of one's humility, to walk graciously in the truth of who one is. Coveting something produces the opposite effect: weariness and torment. For nothing can bring to rest our restless soul save union with God--and it is toward this union that St. John fires our love with urgent longings. Book One closes with two short chapters, which really provide a transi-tion to Book Two. The.phrase St. John comments upon points to the main effect of the active night of sense, namely, "Fired w.ith love's urgent long-ings." The result of this initial purgation of the appetites is a more intense enkindling of another love: a better love, the love of God above all else. The motivation for giving up these attachments must be neither fear of punishment nor the presumption of merit but the freedom, based on faith and love, tb choose a higher good. "By finding his satisfaction and strength in this love, a man will have the courage and constancy to deny readily all other appetites" (AMC, I, 14, 2/105). Such love is not static, but dynamic; it is a longing love. Since the sensory appetites are always in a state of "craving," spiritual desires must be fired with other more "urgent longings." Lacking this transcendence,dynamic, the soul will not be able to overcome the yoke of absolutized vital impulses and functional ambi-tions (what St. John calls the "yoke of nature"); nor will one be able to enter the first night of sense, and certainly one will not have the courage The First Stage to Union / 17"/ to live in the darkness of all things--not by rejecting them as such but by denying the desire for them as if they could provide the fulfillment God alone can offer. St. John will deal with these matters more fully in upcoming Books on the active night of the spirit (which will discuss the purification of our spiritual faculties, intellect, memory and will by, respectively, faith, hope, and love). At least to have passed through the night of the mortification of the senses, the night in which the house of self-will is stilled, is itself a "sheer grace." God's grace, his always active love, has released us already from this prison. But because of our fallenness, "flesh" is still subject to the passions and unruly appetites. To be liberated from this bondage in a way that is unimpeded by its enemies (world, flesh and devil) is for the soul an unspeakably wonderful grace. To achieve this liberation to the full, one must, so to speak, leave the Egypt of sensory satisfaction and cross the desert of spiritual deprivation. When the house of willful appe-tites is quieted through the mortification of sensuality, then the soul is free to walk in genuine freedom, enjoying union with the Beloved. It is to this next phase of renunciation for the sake of greater liberation that one must now turn, keeping in mind this saying of St. John's: "If you purify your soul of attachment to and desire for things, you will understand them spiritually. If you deny your appetite for them, you will enjoy their truth, understanding what is certain in them" (Sayings o fLight andLove, 46/671). *All quotations can be found in references by paragraph and page number. Collected ~'orks of St. John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D., ICS Publications, Institute of Carmelite Studies, Washington, D.C. The Eucharist: Heart of Religious Community Susan Wood, S.C.L. Sister Susan Wood teaches theology at Saint Mary College (Leavenworth, Kansas 66048). This article is the fruit of her reflection in anticipation of her community's General Chapter last summer. As she writes, "Paradoxically, what may be most specific sometimes touches what is true universally." The daily celebration of the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives a source of our charity a fount of inspiration in our mission a sign and means of unity and nourishment. Constitution, #23 Today many sisters are asking whether we can continue to say that the Eucharist is a focal point of our lives. Quite simply, some say, for many of us our daily schedules prohibit a daily eucharistic celebration. Others question how the Eucharist can be expressive of unity in a situation where the worshipping community does not know one another. Still others wonder whether we should celebrate Eucharist at all if we find ourselves divided and still in need of reconciliation with one another. They remind us that Jesus said to leave our gift at the altar and be reconciled with our sister and brother before offering our gift. If we inquire further, we discover yet more serious roots of the current questioning of the place of the Eucharist in our religious lives. The Eucharist may appear to be a devotional practice which, while important, is somehow peripheral to other concerns which claim our energies. The real task that 178 The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 179 the question of the place of the Eucharist in our lives sets before us is the identification of what constitutes the center of our common life. Is our service of the poor our focal point? Is our common life? Does the inspiration for our religious adaptation and reform repose in fundamentally non-sacramental realities such as community, authority, Chapter enactments, the Constitution, our apostolates, our charism? Or can we say that our sacramental life is our center, and that all these important, but non-sacramental, aspects of our life are means rather than ends in themselves. That is, they are the means of extending and making concrete and specific the sacramental reality which first defines our life together. These pages cannot solve the problems of conflicting schedules; nor do they pretend to offer a complete theology of the Eucharist. They do propose, however, to examine some connections between the Eucharist and religious community. It is only after we grasp this connection that we will be equipped to address the more concrete questions concerning our daily eucharistic celebration. Religious Life: An Ecclesial Life The basis for the connection between the Eucharist and religious com-munity is, first, the relationship between religious life and the Church and, second, the close association between the sacraments of baptism and Eucharist. The first presupposition is that religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. More than simply a manner of living within the Church, religious life is directly oriented to the Church. This is evident within our own tradition when we recall St. Vincent de Paul's description of the Daughters of Charity as "daughters of the Church." The ecclesial character of religious consecra-tion is further evident in its sacramental foundation, baptism. In baptism we are incorporated into the body of Christ and his Church and our religious life is an attempt to live out the implications of our baptism, and thus this incorporation, in a radical way. As a radical living out of the baptismal commitment, religious life is equally a living out of our identity as ecclesial women. This theology appears in our Constitution where we state: As Christians united personally by baptism to Jesus Christ and to his body, the Church, the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth . . . are women who view baptism as the most significant event in our lives and who have responded freely to the Divine call to express this consecration more fully by profession of the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience lived in apostolic and communal love (Constitution, n. 3). The decree of the Second Vatican Council, Perfectae Caritatis, refers Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 to this ecclesial~orientation when it urges religious to "more and more live and think with the Church," and "dedicate themselves wholeheartedly to its mission (n. 6).'.' If our unity as a Church is the unity in the Spirit of the body of Christ, and if our identity as religious women is inseparable from 0u¢ identity as ecclesial women, then it follows that the source of our unity is radically identical with that of the Church. In other words, our unity is baptismal and eucharistic. From this close association between religious and ecclesial life, it follows that the relationship between the Eucharist and religious community will be analogous to that between the Eucharist and the Church. The Unity of Baptism and Eucharist The second theological presupposition is that baptism and Eucharist are intrinsically related. Consequently, if religious life is a radical living of the baptismal commitment, it is no less a eucharistically centered life. The Eucharist is not simply that which we receive when we come together as the Church. Nor is it primarily a celebration of who we are as a believing community. The Church does not exist prior to the Eucharist, but is formed and created by it. This may appear at first as paradoxical, for in a sense a minister and community are necessary for the celebration of the sacrament. One may also object that the Christian community is formed by baptism rather than the Eucharist. This, however, ~eparates the sacraments of initia-tion when they should instead be seen as a unity. Baptism is indeed incorpora-tion into the Church, but the culmination or fulfillment of the sacraments of initiation, and thus baptism, is the Eucharist. Initiation into the Church is incomplete without the reception of the Eucharist which is incorporation into the historical body of Christ sacramentally present in our world. This is evident in the rite of initiation in the Eastern Church where baptism, confir-mation and Eucharist are conferred within the same ceremony. Baptism and the Eucharist.are closely associated, first, because both are intrinsically related to Christ's Paschal Mystery. In the Eucharist we proclaim the death of the Lord until he comes (1 Co 11: 26). In the eucharistic sacrifice the victory and triumph of Christ are again made present (Sacrosanctum Concilium, I. 6). In baptism we are plunged into the Paschal Mystery of Christ, die with him to sin, are buried with him, and rise with him to a new life in Christ (Rm 6:4; Ep 2:6; Col 3:1; 2 Tm 2:11). Second, both baptism and the Eucharist are means of incorporation into the body of Christ. The text of 1 Co 12:12-13 makes this clear regarding baptism: Just as a human body, tho.ugh it is made up of many parts, is a single unit because all these parts, though many, make one body, so it is with Christ. The Eucharist: Heart of Community In the one Spirit we were all baptized, Jews as well as Greeks, slaves as well as citizens, and one Spirit was given to us all to drink. It is precisely as members of Christ's body that we share in his death and resurrection through baptism (Rm 6: 3-4). The Eucharist is a further means of participation in the body of Christ as is evident in 1 Co 10: 16-17: The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a participation in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread. In the final analysis, therefore, we are incorporated in Christ by both baptism and the Eucharist, the principal reason why they are both considered sacraments of initiation. Initiation into the Church differs from initiation into human societies precisely because it is sacramental. This means not only that through the sign of the sacrament we are initiated into membership in the body of Christ, but that this union with Christ is really achieved now, and is itself a sign of the final eschatological union that all the blessed will share with Christ and with one another. The Eucharist is causative of the Church because the unity of the Church is not that of an aggregate of individuals, a collectivity which exists prior to or independently of Christ, but the unity of a body. In the Eucharist we are nourished by the body and blood of Jesus Christ, and, being vivified by that body, we become one. Consequently, the unity of the Church does not exist metaphysically prior to or apart from its union with and incorporation in Christ. To grasp this profound interconnection between the Church and the Eucharist requires that we think sacramentally rather than according to the categories of human societies and organizations. The temptation throughout history has been to pattern the Church according to the models of society current at the time--in our day the democratic model. The Mystery in which we are invited to participate transcends merely human structures. An example of the shift required in our perception is that while that which we eat is normally transformed into our own flesh and blood, in the sacrament we. are assimilated to Christ, not he to us. The unity of the Church is not a moral unit~, sustained by the good will and cooperation of those consenting to be united, but rather is the unity created on the initiative of Christ who offers us the New Covenant. The Ecclesial Dimension of the Eucharist We believe that sacraments are efficacious signs of God's grace. Therefore we believe that what is signed by the sacrament achieves its effect in us both Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 individually and communally. The sign of the Eucharist is our partaking of Christ's body, efficaciously signified by the bread and wine. Sacramental realism assures us that that which is both signed and effected is our union with Christ, and, as 1 Co 10 indicates~ our union with one another. In tradi-tional eucharistic theology this effect of the Eucharist has been- called the res tantum, and is none other than the unity of the ecclesial body, the Church. This unity is the union of the members with their head, Christ. Since the middle of the twelfth century, largely in response to the eucharistic controversy involving Berengarius, eucharistic theology has fre-quently concentrated on eucharistic realism. Great care has been exerted to emphasize the fact that Christ is really and truly present in the Eucharist. While this truth is of incomparabl~ worth within eucharistic theology, the care to correct a heretical eucharistic theology led to the neglect of the ecciesial dimension of the sacrament. A eucharistic piety that focuses too narrowly and exclusively on the real presence often misses the ecclesial signification of the sacrament, as well as its context within salvation history. The Eucharist in addition to and precisely because it is the sacramental presence of Christ within history is anamesis (remembrance) as well as antici-pation. As remembrance it is the representation of the sacrifice of Christ as well as the fulfillment of the typological prefigurations of Christ's sacrifice in the Old Testament. As anticipation it looks ahead to the final eschato-logical union of all the blessed with Christ at the end time. The final union of the members of Christ with their head is what St. Augustine called the "whole Christ." Thus the Eucharist is an instance of what theologians call "realized eschatology." That is, that which will be complete at the end time eschatologically is already present in a real, but incomplete form. We are really united with Christ now in the present time, but this union prefigures a complete union for which we work, pray, and wait. In a similar manner, we are really sacramentally united with one another, but our unity is still imperfect. Concrete Consequences of a Eucharistic Ecclesiology Once this is seen, certain corollaries become evident. First, the referent of the sacrament, that is, that which it signs, is both the Christ who died, rose and ascended to the Father as well as the eschatological union of all the blessed with Christ. Thus the sacrament effects this union in the present, but its ultimate referent transcends the present as it anticipates this final union. This means that the primary referent of the Eucharist is not the immanent worshipping community or exclusively the presence of the Christ within the community. The Eucharist is not a celebration of unity achieved apart from our union with Christ and prior.to the Eucharist, but effects The Eucharist: Heart of Community / 183 and anticipates that for which we hope as Christians--final, irrevocable union in Christ. This means that we do not wait until we experience perfect union before we approach the Eucharist. If a community stands in need of reconcilia-tion, it should indeed work so that it is in fact what it proclaims itself to be in word, namely, Christian community. However, just as we do not save ourselves but ask for salvific grace, so our reconciliation is not entirely our work but something worked within us by the grace of God with our cooper-ation. The Eucharist is not only a sign of unity, but effects unity and recon-ciliation; Secondly, the community which gathers for eucharistic worship is not required to be an intimate, homogeneous group. The universality of the kingdom of God, the body of Christ, indicates that those ecclesial communities which most accurately reflect the universal vocation to union with God may be the most diverse of groups, often anonymous, where faith in our common vocation transcends the diversity of races, nations and walks of life. This does not me.an that we should not work for a more ideal realization of como munity but rather that such an ideal should not become a prior condition of eucharistic worship. Third, although in the Eucharist we receive the sacramental presence of Christ, the primary focus of the sacrament is communal rather than indi-vidual. We approach the Eucharist as a Christian community who celebrates the great things the Lord has done for us in his life, death and rising. The Eucharist as anamesis, that is, remembrance, sacramental presence and pledge of our. future hope, reminds us that we are a people in the midst of the history of God's salvific plan for us. This communal and historical focus of the sacrament is the primary reason why communion services can never be an adequate substitute for the celebration of the Eucharist. These services, even under the best of circumstances, emphasize the individual's reception of the sacramental presence of Christ rather than the community's immersion in salvation history with its celebration of a past event sacramentally present, itself a sign of a future reality. The Eucharist is properly word and sacra, ment, the sacrament representing more than the presence of Christ's body and blood. It is also the presence of that sacrifice which renders that body and blood efficacious for our salvation. Objective vs. Subjective Meaning of the Eucharist One of the problems today is that we may~be confusing "meaning" with "meaningfulness." The first is an objective category while the second is s~ubjective. When we experience the liturgy as dull and lifeless, apparently divorced from the rest of our lives, we are tempted to say that it has "lost Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 meaning" for us. In this instance what we really mean is that it has ceased to be meaningful. The Eucharist obviously has not lost its objective meaning as the sacramental presence of Christ within human history, as the Christian community's remembrance and representation of Christ's salvific death and rising, as an efficacious sign of our future union in Christ. Our experience, therefore, is more of a statement about ourselves than about the objective meaning of what takes place at our eucharistic liturgy. It is a statement 6f our inability to consciously live and celebrate what we believe, of the incongruity between our life as a Christian community and what the Eucharist calls us to be as a community. Indeed, we may experience fragmentation, boredom and disunion but this experience is a call to recon-ciliation, a call to approach the altar once again so that that which we cele-brate liturgically may be integral with the whole of our life, a call to pray for a more lively faith. It is likewise a call to contribute our best efforts so that our liturgical prayer, through sign and symbol, awakens, fortifies and expresses our faith. Even though it is a mistake to confuse meaning with meaningfulness, we are not excused from the efforts necessary for good liturgical celebration, including personal prayer and reading of Scripture as well as the more proxi-mate preparations of celebrants, musicians and artists. Sacraments are signs, and signs are of their nature human, subject to expressing more or less adequately what they signify. The liturgical renewal enjoined by Vatican II calls for a more active participation on the part of the faithful so that the liturgy can be the "outstanding means by which the faithful can express ~n their love, and manifest to others, the mystery of Christ and the real nature of the true Church" (Sacrosanctum Concilium, n. 2). Within eucharistic theology there exists an objective and subjective di-mension of the sacrament. Traditionally this has been referred to as the opus operatum, the work effected by Christ, and the opus operantis. This latter term originally referred to the disposition of the celebrant. The dis-tinction between the two terms explained how a Mass celebrated by a priest in a state of serious sin was still valid although not spiritually fruitful for him. Recent writers have extended the meaning of opus operantis to refer to the cooperation with and active reception of grace by the believer. In the opus operatum, the objective element of the sacrament, we are assured that Christ is really present. In the second, the subjective element, we receive grace, and the sacrament is "fruitful" with our growth in faith, hope and charity. The question of meaning vs. meaningfulness can, in part, be expressed as the relation between the objective reality of the sacrament, the opus oper-atum, and the subjective disposition of the recipient, the opus operantisl The Eucharist: Heart of Community Our sacramental celebrations may appear arid when the ecclesial reality of the sacrament does not find expression in a renewed commitment to Christ and his Church. Some writers, including Karl Rahner, discuss the frequency of eucharistic celebration with reference to the opus operantis, saying that this frequency should be governed by the conditions which make it possible for us to receive the sacrament fruitfully, with conscious faith and the psychic energy necessary to enter subjectively into that which we celebrate objectively. Two extremes are to be avoided. First, within the context of the communal character of the Eucharist, it is obvious that it is not question of increasing grace by multiplying the number of eucharistic celebr.ations one attends. This not only emphasizes the individual rather than the com-munal nature of the Eucharist, but it also quantifies grace, distorting its primarily relational character. However, it is equally a mistake to expect each 0"f our eucharistic celebrations to be a peak religious experience. An excessive emphasis on our preparation and readiness for the Eucharist makes it our work rather than God's gift and action on. us. In the Eucharist we are invited once again to enter into the New Covenant. Within the vicissitudes of our life we need to be invited to this oft~en, perhaps even daily. The Lord's Prayer provides,us with the model for the dailiness of our eucharistic celebration for when we ask for our daily bread, this is no less than the Bread of Life. However, this emphasis on the ideal of a daily celebration need be neither slavish nor mechanistic. The essential is to realize that the Eucharist is truly the sacramental focal point of our reli-gious life together. Once this is realized and lived, the frequency of our eucharistic celebration will not be so much a question of legislation as that which is truly possible within our individual circumstances and the expression of who we are as ecclesial women. The relationship between Eucharist and religious community is parallel to the relationship between the Church and the Eucharist. Within ecclesiology today there are many theologies competing with a eucharistic ecclesiology. The search for relevance and liberation has prompted dialogue on what con-stitutes salvatio.n, whether it represents liberation from oppressive societal structures and/or whether it is more properly a release from the bondage of sin. Much of what is good within this discussion represents a healthy correction of the excessive individualism which has plagued us since the Enlightenment. An excessive emphasis on intra-worldly goals of this liberation is now being cort~ected within a broader vision of the drama of sin and grace in the world. That these same tensions are reflected in religious life is no accident since religious life is fundamentally ecclesial. In many ways a religious commu-nity is a microcosm of the larger Church. Within this perspective it is not "186 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sufficient that we pray together, serve the poor and live a common life, We can do all these things without being a religious community. Although our charism is to serve the poor, our primary identity is not that of the social worker. Furthermore, there are times when the non-sacramental aspects of our life lead us away from our true identity as a religious community. For instance, we may become excessively work-orierited. While work for the kingdom is praiseworthy, a certain attitude distorts our work so that it becomes something which we undertake, initiate. Our events replace the Christ event. Communal efforts become our action rather than God's action on us, and the Eucharist becbmes a devotional practice rather than the most fundamental expression of the reality of our lives. The Eucharist is the heart of religious community because it is the histor-ical presence of the New Covenant which unites that community with its Lord. Our primary identity is to be a eucharistic community in union with Christ. Our service of others then flows as a consequence of what the Eucharist means--as a response of thankfulness for what the Lord has done for us, as the service modeled by. Christ at the Last Supper, as a means of facilitating the union of all in Christ. It is then that we can truly say that the Eucharist is the focal point of our lives. Good Friday, April 1, 1983 Gently running, delicate raindrops--spring rain as tears from the windows of my soul. The clear-paned pain allows me to glimpse the promise of life within the dry earth, within myself. Suffering and tears stir tender blossoms deep inside. They struggle to break through the crusty-hard shell, to lift themselves to the long-promised warmth of the loving Son. Sister Mary Therese Macys, S.S.C. 2601 W. Marquette Road Chicago, Illinois 60629 Learning from the Worldly Leo D. Davis, S.J. Father Davis, a member of the Jesuits' Oregon Province, presently resides in Italy, where he may be addressed: Via Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze,: Italy. "For the worldly are more astute than the other worldly in dealing with their own kind" (Lk 16:8). Desperate for American reading material while in a foreign country, ] dipped recently into one of the national best sellers of a few years .back, Peters and Waterman's In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Companies (New York: Warner °Books, 1982). Though not ordi-narily a reader of business literature, I found the book absorbing, not as a study of American business success, but as an indication of why many religious institutes, including my own, fail specifically as organizations to reach their goals. Of course, we religious are not primarily in business: auxiliary to our main purposes we do run businesses. These auxiliary enter-prises, however, are not my concern in this article. Rather, I'm interested in how we organize and conduct ~urselves in spreading the Word of God and serving our neighbor. Can we learn from successful business con-cerns how to do this better? I I~ave it to the readers themselves to judge after considering Peters and Waterman's findings. The two studied sixty-two corporations in the fields of high tech-nology, consumer goods, services, industrial supplies, management and resources. They wanted to discover just what makes these firms leaders in their fields. They found that all agree on an eight point philosophy in doing business. Contr'~ry to what one might expect from business men out to make a 187 11~8 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 buck, the authors argue that hardheaded rationality is not enough to suc-ceed. International Telephone and Telegraph, for example, was managed in a rigidly national fashion, and failed. The war in Vietnam was largely run from the Pentagon by Robert McNamara's Ford Company technical "whiz kids," and we all know the outcome. Mere technique however sophisticated, won't do the trick. Planning, long and short range, is needed, but planning can often become an end in itself. Of three hundred twenty-five planning task forces studied, none had yet finished its task after three years of work. Task forces, the authors suggest, should be small, limited in time, volun-tary, and contain some senior staff. Their work should call for no addi-tional staff and produce a minimum of documentation. Follow-up on their recommendations should be swift. Paper shuffling among executives and back and forth between executives and managers can stifle all action. Analysis can lead to . paralysis. Gamesmanship and contention in committees replace action. As one executive commented, it is easier to develop a negative argument f~r doing nothing than to advance a constructive one which issues in action. The authors argue that major concerns should be dealt with one at a time. More than two objectives for a task force mean no objectives at all. There should be constant communication, constant keeping in touch with the realities and persons involved in decisions. Communications should be short and clear; the authors cite the famous practice of Procter and Gamble in restricting all memoranda to a single page. Chaotic action is preferable to no action at all. Experimentation and testing ideas in prac-tice is better than just talking about problems. Get people acting and they solve their problems, and come to believe in what they're doing. Close to the Customer As religious, we're not, as such, selling goods to customers, but we are dealing with people. What are the needs, tastes, preferences of those with whom we deal? Are we willing to put ourselves out for others? The successful companies know their clientele and go to great lengths to serve them. Thomas Watson of International Business Machines had a simple philosophy: We want to give the best customer service of any company in the world. He guaranteed answering any customer complaint in twenty-four hours. Caterpillar Tractors guarantees forty-eight hour service to any country of the world. Frito-Lay aims at a 99.5 percent rate of service in peddling their products; they will spend several hundred dollars to restock a remote store with thirty dollars worth of potato chips. But their reputa-tion for reliability in the end outweighs the short term costs. I'm reminded Learning from the Worldly of an old priest colleague of mine who was preaching to the coffee room audience on service; when a telephone call interrupted him, he told the caller to see him during office hours--and continued his harangue with no sense of incongruity. The Disney people realize what service means; sixteen-year old ticket takers at Disneyland are put through four eight-hour days of training just so they can take tickets with the Disney elan. McDonald's scores of billions of hamburgers are sold by insistence on cleanliness, efficient ser-vice, uniform quality and reliability. Burgers not sold ten minutes after cooking are thrown out; french fries, after seven minutes; and their cashiers are taught to have eye contact with the customers. The authors give an example of the extraordinary lengths to which some companies will go. When a woman complained about a foul-up with a discount air ticket, she wrote to the president of Delta Airlines. The president of the corporation himself met her at the airport and per-sonally presented her with a new ticket. All these companies stress quality. McDonald's, with seven thousand restaurants doing 2.5 billion dollars worth of business annually, tell their stockholders: Quality is the first word in McDonald's motto. Digital Com-puter's philosophy states: "Growth is not our principal goal. Our goal is to be a quality organization and'do a quality job, which means that we will be proud of our work and products for years to come. As we achieve quality, growth will come as a result." There's food for thought here for religious experiencing a decline in vocations. The lonely Maytag serviceman of the TV ads is a symbol of the company's guarantee of ten years' trouble-free operation of any machine. Hewlett-Packard is obsessed with quality; ask them about personnel, they talk quality; ask about sales, they talk quality; ask about management, they talk quality. The president of Heineken Beer says bluntly, "I consider a bad bottle of Heineken a personal insult to me." Until recently, the eighty-two-year-old founder of Marriott Hotels read every complaint card personally. Productivity Through People All members of an organization should be made aware that their best efforts are essential to success and that they will share in that success. Here again we religious in the ranks are not mere employees in the ministries of our institutes. In fact, many times we might be better off in some of America's best companies than at the hands of some religious superiors. One executive complained to the authors: People issues take up all my time. To them he was really saying that his business would be easy to run if it weren't for people. But corporations, like religious institutes, 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 are people. Those who work in them should be treated as adults and as partners, with dignity and respect. This doesn't mean that they be mollycoddled; they should be given reasonable and clear expectations, and practical autonomy to get the job done. In a study of school teachers, the authors point out it was found that when they held high expectations of their students, that alone was enough to cause an increase of twenty-five points in the students' IQ scores. Workers should understand what is being done and why. Peters and Waterman quote Admiral Zumwalt's method of reorganizing Navy prac-tices: What I tried hardest to do was ensure that every officer and sailor on the ship not only knew what we were about, not only why we were doing each tactical operation, however onerous, but also managed to understand enough about how it all fitted together so that they began to experience some of the fun and challenge that those of us in the top slot were having. 1 knew from experience the impact of treating sailors like the mature adults they were. Dedicated religious women and men deserve no less. Communication between superiors and ranks cannot be mere lip ser-vice, mere gimmicks, but must be a sincere effort to make all really part of the team. Sam Walton has built a company from eighteen to three hun-dred thirty stores, with sales rising from forty-five million dollars, to 1.6 billion dollars and the process made his family the richest in the United States. He always calls his employees "associates." "The key is to get out and hear what the associates have to say," he states. "It's terribly important for everyone to get involved." For him this is not lip service: one sleepless night he went down to the loading dock with four dozen donuts and talked to his "associates." He learned that they needed two more shower stalls in the wash room--and they got them. This is a sur-prising degree of concern in an executive running a 1.6 billion dollar com-pany. Again, when Thomas Watson first took over IBM, he was not out to shake up the company by wholesale transfers and firings, but to buff and polish those already in place so their performance would improve; his bone-deep belief, says his son, was respect for the individual. Peters and Waterman suggest some simple rules iia the treatment of workers: all important communication should be face to face; there should be opportunity for career education; there should be security in their posi-tions. Superiors should be accessible to all, their doors always open. Finally, there should be incentives. "A man wouldn't sell his life to Learning from the Worldly you, but he would give it to you for a piece of colored ribbon," says a war correspondent about soldiers in World War lI. The best corporations go to extraordinary lengths to reward good performance, creating oppor-tunities for showering pens, badges, buttons and medals on their people. At Mars Candy everyone on time for work during the week gets a ten percent bonus; IBM has a "gold circle" for top salespersons; Tupperware senior management spend thirty days a year at "jubilees" for outstanding performers; one company even puts gold stars on a public bulletin board after the names of those who don't miss work. Religious might well feel out of place in an atmosphere like this. Indeed, our vocation is not to look for rewards but to dedicate ourselves to the selfless service of God and neighbor. But superiors, on their side, should be aware of the value of incentives; nothing is more powerful than positive reinforcement. This, the authors advise, should be specific, tan-gible and frequent. They point to a model of motivation in a Procter and Gamble executive who, red in the face and vehement, told a Stanford University seminar: "Just because the product is toilet paper doesn't mean that Procter and Gamble doesn't make it a damn sight better than anyone else." The executive, he continues, is called to help fulfill the individ-ual's search to transcend himself or herself, to avoid isolation and the fear of helplessness, to give people a sense of being, in control of their des-tiny. High performance is based on intrinsic motivations: people must believe that a task is inherently worthwhile if they are to be committed to it. All this to sell toilet paper! Hands On, Value Driven Management The authors insist that the successful executive keeps in close touch not only with personnel but with the firm's essential business. Again Thomas Watson of IBM: "I believe the real difference between success and failure in a corporation can very often be traced to the question of how well the organization brings out the great energies and talents of its people . I firmly believe that any organization, in order to survive and achieve success, must have a sound set of beliefs on which it premises all its policies and actions. Next, I believe that the most important single factor in corporate success is faithful adherence to those beliefs. And, finally, I believe if an organization is to meet the challenge of a changing world, it must be prepared to change everything about itself except those beliefs . " The institutional leader is primarily an expert in the promotion and protection of values. The basic values: a belief in being the best; in the "" "109 / Review for Reiigious, March-April, 1987 importance of the details of execution; in the importance of people as indi-viduals; in superior quality and service; in supporting innovation and tolerating failure. The effective leader must be a master of two ends of the spectrum--ideas at the highest level and actions at the most mundane levels of detail. The top performers create a broad, uplifting, shared: cul-ture, a coherent framework within which charged up people search for appropriate adaptations. The real leader does' not force others to submit and follow him by the sheer overwhelming magic of his personality. He is influential in inspiring and strengthening them; he arouses confidence. Success in instilling values appears to have little to do with charismatic personality. Rather it derives from obvious, sincere, sustained personal commitment to the values the leader seeks to implant, coupled with extraordinary persistence in reinforcing these values. Hewlett- Packard advises its executives to wander around, being approachable, accessible, listening, keeping people informed. Others advise: don't summon people to your office; go see them. Kill grimness with laughter; maintain an atmosphere of informality; encourage exuberance. Without such hands on management, it seems nothing much happens. Stick to the Knitting By this Peters and Waterman mean, "Remain with the business you know best." Organizations that do branch out but stick close to their orig-inal purpose outperform others. Successful companies enter only those businesses that build on, draw strength from, and enlarge some central area of competence. ITT began as an international telephone company, but the tools that it took to run a phone company in Chile didn't help much in the management of newly acquired Continental Baking and Sheraton Hotels. The result was that ITT had to sell off thirty-three busi-nesses. The lesson is never acquire a business you don't know how to run. Minnesota Mining and Manufacturing, makers of Scotch tape, make fifty thousand other products and introduce one hundred new ones each year, but all is built around its central coating-and~bonding technology. Procter and Gamble is good at soap, but Pringles' potato chips, machined to uniform size in a neat box, is an apparent failure from the standpoint of consumer taste. Simple.Form, Lean Staff The authors are passionate advocates of clear, simple structural organization so that everyone knows to which boss to report. Some staff gain power by keeping everything vague and unclear. Outlaws can use the lack of clarity to their own advantage and to the detriment of the whole. Learning from the Worldly / 193 With simple organization, fewer staff are needed at headquarters to make things work. Emerson Electric, with fifty-four thousand personnel, has one hundred in corporate headquarters; Dava Industries, with thirty-five thousand, has one hundred; Schlumberger, an oil service company with six billion dollars worth of business annually, has ninety cprporate staff. The Society of Jesus in its headquarters in Rome has ninety-five on the corporate staff for only 25,500 personnel. The story goes around Jesuit circles that at one time our largest province had more departmental provincials than first year novices. "Less is more" in corporate manage-hment, say Peters and Waterman. Simultaneous Loose-Tight Properties By this the authors mean fostering a climate in which there is dedica-tion to the central values of the company combined with tolerance for all employees who accept these values. The central values must be carefully fostered and protected, yet autonomy, entrepreneurship and innovation should flourish among the rank and file. The discipline of shared values provides the framework for all the rest. It gives people confidence to exper-iment stemming from stable expectations of what really counts. Too much overbearing discipline kills autonomy but the discipline of shared values encourages innovation. Rules should reinforce positive traits and not just discourage negative ones. The company should offer meaning, provide guiding belief, create a sense of excitement, a sense of being part of the best, a sense of producing something of quality that is valued. Basic .values should be set in concrete, and executed by attention to mundane, nitty-gritty details. Every hour, everyday is an opportunity to act in sup-port of overarching themes. A lively sense of realism enforces tight disci-pline; the attention to the desires and needs of the clientele is the most stringent means of self-discipline. Autonomy and Entrepreneurship Tight discipline and preservation of basic values should not interfere with a stress on innovation, and a tolerance of failure for those who fail in the pursuit of innovation. Some companies support "skunk works" where the talented mavericks of the business brainstorm and experiment. All of this must be coupled with constant communication and the dogged persistence of innovators to put their ideas across. Interestingly enough, physical proximity is vital in this communica-tion. The authors point out that people working thirty feet apart meet each other only eight to nine percent of the time, while those working only fif-teen feet apart meet twenty-five percent of the time. They maintain that 194 / Roview for Religious, March-April, 1987 the best companies do their work in large, self-contained, campus-like headquarters outside the city. What does all this add up to? What I've tried to say in a modern idiom and detail drawn from actual studies is only what St. Paul told his Corinthians: "You know (do you not?) that at sports all the runners run the race, though only one wins the prize. Like them, run to win! But every athlete goes into strict training. They do it to win a fading wreath; we, a wreath that never fades" (1 Co 9:24-25). The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Add ress: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Modern Media and the Religious Sense of Community Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Father Neuman is well known to our readers. His last article in these pages was entitled "Personality and Religious Adjustments in Older Candidates" (May/June, 1986). Father Neuman continues to teach at St. Meinrad Seminary; St.Meinrad, Indiana 47577. Back in the sixth century St. Benedict, in his Rule, included a short chap-ter on "The Proper Amount of Drink." To modem ears some of its sug-gestions may seem mildly humorous, yet in context a radical practicality pervades the .thought of this monastic genius. We read that monks should not drink wine at all, but since the monks of our day cannot be convinced of this, let us at least agree to drink mod-erately and not to the point of excess, for wine makes even the ffise to go astray.' Were this same St. Benedict composing a rule for a religious order of the late twentieth century it is quite likely he would feel the need to insert a chapter on "The Proper Amount of Watching Television" with similar suggestions and pleas .for moderation. For few would be the reli-gious men and women today who would agree that they should avoid all television. This article treats some of the background issues which would lead to that hypothetical modern chapter on the proper amount of television. Actually the topic goes far beyond television to include all manner of modem electronic media: radio, stereo systems, cassette players, tele-phones, VCRs and, most recently, computers (can spiritual video games be far behind'?). What religious house is there that has not felt the inva- 195 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 sion of this technology? What communities today do not admit into for-mation programs young people shaped by a high-intensity media culture? The electronic media have, for better or worse, become part of the ethos of life in twentieth-century America. My basic premise suggests that the presence of these media has influ-enced the communal shape of religious community life far more drastically than we may initially surmise. Surely the use of such media affect common schedules (viewing a late "Special" on some current event) and budgets ("Our office must have a computer!"). Beyond these surface impacts the involvement with media slowly but surely has shifted our very sense of what community means and how we associate as social persons. To media theorists one of the major human effects of all cultural media, and particularly electronic media, is to create a very specific and delimited realization of "being together," a style of how people gather and interact.'- For example, television gathers people physically, but focuses their communal attention outwardly and away from the people around them. Relentlessly sustained participation in such media experi-ences will alter slowly the way one interacts and responds in all situa-tions. Television creates an instant community which passively watches. As an interesting sidelight, when television first began to be widely commercial in the 1950s the leading American theorist on communica-tions flatly predicted that it would never be a success because "people would have to sit in a dark room and ignore each other." One might wonder how far that attitude has affected our religious sense of com-munity? Other entertainment media besides television reinforce this psy-chological separation or distancing from one's immediate surroundings and relationships. Cassettes and stereos supply individual, isolated encoun-ters with music and detached thoughts. Now with portable stereo and ear-phones we can eat, recreate, shop or work, and clearly advertise that we wish no personal contact with anyone immediately around us. The tele-phone brings instant contact over worldwide distances; we start to belong to a global network embracing an incredibly wide range of personal connections. Without our being that aware, these daily immersions into media experience adjust our expectations of personal relationships. In par-ticular they change the way we are involved with the people immediately around us. The previous issue is a critical one for vowed religious who have a spiritual stake in the meaning and practice of community life. According to the Church's law, participation in community is essential for one to be considered a religious by the Church;3 in contemporary theology the for- Modern Media and Community mation of authentic community is praised as a preeminent goal of Chris-tian life and ministry; and in many modern forms of spirituality the very notion of community inclines toward the realizing of the Trinitarian mys-tery of God.4 But with the arrival of the electronic community we had better stop and take a careful look at what precise actions are implied in the linguistic usage of "community jargon." Under the surface we may find a clash of world views taking place, a clash that undermines real com-munity, an undermining that gnaws away in the midst of people busily doing their daily work, living their lives, and talking incessantly about community as an important aspect of their lives. A brief comparison of these contrasting world views of community might focus our reflections. The ancient notion of "religious" com-munity, as traditionally used of the Church as a whole or of particular vowed communities, rested on a conviction of human solidarity borrowed from the goals, structures and attitudes of a close-knit, agrarian, craft-based or familial society. Community here meant the composite of ways that people lived, worked, prayed and played together. The goal of such sustained daily interaction was communal solidarity, mutual commitment, the sharing of hopes and values in a communality of life. The structures which embedded those goals aimed at a slow, patient, day-by-day, elbow-by- elbow building up of emotional bonds and support systems. Just as one learned to love in familially-arranged marriages, so one learned to be a member of a vowed community by the shaping of common intentions formed through daily work and prayer. These community goals and struc-tures depended on social routines of living that stressed the physical prox-imity and sharing of participants over the long haul of life. This religious vision of community was a prize to be won through sustained work and prayer. The concluding words of the Prologue to the Rule of St. Benedict exemplify perfectly this ancient vision: Therefore we intend to establish a school for the Lord's service. In draw-ing up its regu!ations, we hope to set down nothing harsh, nothing bur-densome. The good of all concerned, however, may prompt us to a little strictness in order to amend faults and to s~ifeguard love. Do not be daunted immed!.ately by fear and run away from the road that leads to salvation. It is bound to be narrow at the outset. But as we progress in this way of life and in faith, we shall run on the path of God's commandments, our hearts overflowing with the inexpressible delight of love. Never swerving from his instructions, then, but faithfully observ-ing his teaching in the monastery until death, we shall through patience share in the sufferings of Christ that we may deserve also to share in his kingdom.5 1911 Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 How divergent appears the community of the electronic mindset! It presents instantaneous intentions drawn from anywhere in the world, and on any topic, from far bey6nd the gathered viewers, and its heightened visual intensity etches those intentions into the awareness of participants. Electronic media joins the viewers automatically to a national and world community. The communal intentions that bind us here are all given by what the media chooses to focus on and present. The solidarity of the elec-tronic community does not flow from a patient and lengthy building up of common intentions, but,from the impulsive response to instantaneously given themes. It is a fragile solidarity indeed. Its communality depends on intensity to maintain interest. (So it must deal with a topic ever more heatedly-~or find a new topic.) And media are powerfully effective! By themselves the media constitute a very real and engaging psychological support system. Any individual can retire to the privacy of his or. her room and by means of TV, radio or stereo be in touch with any particular psychological input (to soothe, to excite, to reinforce love, to wal,low in nostalgia). It is a support system that dispenses with flesh and blood people. It is instant electronic community, and is radically different from the older notion of religious community founded on agrarian, craft and familial social patterns. This latter style has been the traditional founda-tion of vowed religious community life in the Church, but it is being increasingly challenged by the newer media style. The critical point I wish to raise is this: if religi6us communities of today believe they can continue to stress and intend the older form of com-munity while allowing the ever-spreading presence and use of electronic media, they are sadly deceiving themselves. Houses in which many indi-viduals hold active ministerial positions in the Church and society must face the challenge more acutely; these people need bolstering in stronger doses. Their increased emotional drain begs for a multitude of psy-chological supports. Make no mistake! Electronic media constitute a pow-erful psychological support system, and by themselves they can under-mine the traditional ethos of familial religious community. The inherent reason that electronic media form such a strong psy-chological buttress lies in their ability to alter the fundamental shape of our sense perceiving. Lengthy exposure to media causes differences in the balancing of sight, hearing, touch and balance. Marshall McLuhan, the great pioneer of media theory, noted that electronic media create an instant sensorium, synthesizing sight, sound and touch simultaneously.~ The music video (MTV) is a perfect example of instantaneous multiple sensual involvement. Through this complex sensory input the perceiver's emotions "heat up" quickly; they can attain an intense level of inner Modern Media and Community involvement, and even psychologically remove the perceiver from the pressures of the present. If I happen to be dealing with some specific vexing problem and my feelings are.tired or conflictive, how smoothly a change comes from flipping on the TV or putting a favorite record on the stereo. These media generate an instant, sensual response and become a psychological support system in themselves. Many aspects of the traditional style of community life have already been affected by the intrusion of media into the daily life of religious houses. The structure and frequency of common recreation has altered sig-nificantly. I've heard many individuals either lament or factually describe the practical disappearance of large community-recreation sessions, the evening walks of many people, the diminishment of common reading rooms. In their place have appeared public television rooms, usually more than one to accommodate smokers and non-smokers (for men's houses) or Dan Rather or Tom Brokaw fans (for women's houses). In some communities the time of the evening news program has influenced the daily schedule of meals arid prayer, although the more recent advent of the video cassette has eliminated this temporary problem. The electronic media have subtly altered what people look for in rec-reation itself, that is, what we expect from and put into a period of recre-ation. In the older familial style, recreation was in part a kind of work, an effort to get to know the individuals of the community and to construct these common intentions that make a group into a true communitas. Russell Baker in his delightful autobiography, Growing Up, reminisced about his childhood evenings when the whole family would sit around the kitchen table for three hours or more, each working at some game, hobby or menial task and conversing about different aspects of their day and inter-ests. Such a scenario would be practically impossible for someone raised in today's media world; it would be the ultimate "bore." Although it is so much easier to watch television, maybe recreation for both families and religious communities needs to recapture some aspects of work and effort. Perhaps it's a modern area of life that demands a practi~:al asceticism. Maybe we should go back to ~the basics and see recreation not just as a time of personal leisure but also as a special moment for build-ing the common intentions with real people that will bond us to a particu-lar group. In the last several decades electronic media have frequently become an intrinsic part of the way some religious communities care for their elderly. Mothers with small children often refer to the television set as the "essential babysitter." The TV also gets used as companion an~ diversion for the infirm and bedridden. Has anyone ever wondered what 200 Review for~Religious, March-April, 1987 kind of psychological impact or shift in fantasy those old priests and sis-ters experience through their continual exposure (subjection) to game shows, soap operas and nighttime police stories? It's a thought worth pondering. In some cases those various media have even generated a new com-munity "official," like the custodian of the TV set or the curator of video movies. Their responsibilities are varied: get the TV guide from the Sunday paper before it disappears, tape the evening news for later rerun, moderate disputes about which programs will be watched, and so on. One final way that the media impinge on religious community life today may be in their subtle escalation of psychological depression. More than a few observers have suggested that depression is merging on becom-ing a national epidemic, the prototypical American social disease that eve-ryone seems to suffer from at one time or another. Depression results from a mixture of physical, psychological and social causes: weariness and exhaustion combine with discouragement that we have not met our expected goals within a social context that regularly fails to provide sus-taining or creative human relationships. All of these causes can be com-monly present in work-oriented, overly-structured and perfection-motivated religious houses. When someone senses the weariness and dis-couragement that keys the onset of depression, the easiest response is to plop in front of the TV set and watch "anything." It takes no effort at all. Paradoxically the unintended result may intensify those precise psy-chological and social roots of depression, the unreal expectations and the distance from people. Some psychologists have postulated a sharp link-age between TV addiction and habitual depression; the two feed each other in a vicious circle.7 Even though modern media present many difficulties, we could also point to effects which play a positive role: accurate information of world-wide import, entertainment of the highest artistic quality, and new, essen-tial ways of proclaiming the Christian message, as well as a very valid recreational dimension. St. Benedict probably would make the same kinds of concessions that he did about drinking wine. Certainly we ought to borrow his insights about moderation, as well as recognize that the media are probably here to stay in our contemporary houses. In the long run the challenge will be to discover a sense of com-munity living that binds together the older familial style of community with the newer style of spontaneous and heightened psychological interchange. Both possess strong values: the former, a powerful-sense of ptiysical togetherness in work and prayer, a set of common goals built up through repeated sharing, and the virtue of perseverance; the latter, an Modern Media and Community / 201 emphasis on the value of emotional support and a true recreational element in community. The merging of these two styles will affect all types of societal living today: the family, the social organization, the local parish, as well as the monastery. Unfortunately we have usually tended to oppose the different views in an either/or perspective. Without doubt the quality of community living has changed drastically in religious houses since those first telephones, radios and tele-vision sets were brought in. The wisdom of Benedict suggests that it's doubtful if the monks and sisters of our time can be convinced that these instruments are not good for them. So, at least, let us use them not to addiction, but to moderation. That's an incredible word of practical wisdom that resounds through the centuries! NOTES ' RB 1980: The Rule of Benedict. Edited by Timothy Fry, O.S.B., (Collegeville, MN: The Liturgical Press, 1981), p. 241. The quotation is from chapter 40, vv. 6-7. ' Margaret Miles, Image as Insight (Boston: Beacon Press, 1985), pp. 128-132, 148. 3 Canons 573, 602. Code of Canon Law (Washington, DC: Canon Law Society of America, 1983), pp. 219, 227. 4 Evelyn Eaton Whitehead and James Whitehead, Community of Faith: Models and S~t rRaBte 1gi9e8s0 f:o rT Dhee vReulolep ionfg S Ct.h Briesntieadni cCto, mppm. u1n6i5ti-e1s6 (7N.6e Mw aYrsohrakl:l SMecaLbuurhya nP,r Uesns,d 1e9r8s2ta).nd-ing Media: The Extensions of Man (New York: New American Library, 1964), pp. 57-67. See developments of these ideas by John Culkin, S.J., in McLuhan: Hot and Cool, edited by Gerald Emanuel Stem (New York: New American Library, 1967), pp. 49-57. -, 7 Jerry Mander, Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television (New York: Morr6w Quill, 1978). Also Marie Winn, The Plug-In Drug. (New York: Viking, 1977). Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality Sheila Murphy Dr. Murphy is a professor of psychology at Walsh College (2020 Easton St. N.W.; Canton, Ohio 44720) and is also Director of the Rogativa Center, an educational/ research facility, located on the campus, which serves the needs of women and men religious internationally. An earlier article, "Maximizing Human Potential," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1979. A vital concern to vocation directors is the healthy sexuality of the can-, didates they interview. Numerous workshops, articles, and lectures develop interviewing techniques, questions to ask, and areas to cover to facilitate directors' attempts to discover, during initial interviewing, the quality of candidates' sexuality integration. While these are all necessary and important, they represent only half of the story; the other half is the vocation director's own healthy sexuality and sexual integration. All persons are challenged to healthy sexual integration, and vocation directors, especially, must respond to this challenge because of the qual-ity and nature of their ministry. As initial gatekeepers of religious insti-tutions, their perceptions, judgments, and reactions regarding applicants determine whether of not, in many cases, candidates progress beyond expressing initial interest in a congregation or diocese. In this vital role, vocation directors need to be very clear about which interview issues are their own and which belong to the candidates. This is particularly essen-tial in the area of healthy sexuality. Healthy Sexuality--A Definition Healthy sexuality reflects the integration of the total person. Not a "separate" area of human development, sexuality is the total expression 202 Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 203 of an individual's social, intellectual, physical, and emotional develop-ment. In addition, the combination of these is also the individual's spirituality--the person's complete expression of who she or he is in rela-tionship to self, to others, and to God. Everything people do is sexual. Embodied as women or men, people express their femaleness or maleness in all aspects of their beings. As a ¯ female, for example, everything I do is sexual because I do everything as a woman; I do not function as an it, nor can I be a man. This simple yet relatively new concept was not part of the pre-Vatican theology or sociology in which most people were raised. On the contrary, most grew up in a time when sexuality was associated with genital behaviors, the epit-ome of which was heterosexual intercourse, and divorced from all other areas of human functioning. Within that limited perspective, the full gamut of interpersonal interaction, like self-disclosure, affection, and play-ful touching, were either dismissed as trivial or judged to be suspect behaviors employed as a prelude to the "real thing," i.e., genital inter-course. Also in ~this perception, people's social, emotional, and intellec-tual development were believed to be unrelated to their sexual integration. Such beliefs led to personality fragmentation, suggesting to people that they could compartmentalize their beings and their lives as if they were machines rather than vibrant, dynamic individuals. Because people are constantly emerging as persons, so, too, is their sexuality. Understandings of themselves that answered yesterday's questions may no longer be viable for today's. This all implies that a per-sonal understanding of sexuality is nbt a "one shot" insight to be devel-oped in adolescence (another myth perpetrated by the pre-Vatican II the-ology and sociology), but an ongoing struggle for authenticity. Vocation directors, like other religious, have been struggling for years to incorporate these newer understandings of self, sexuality, and spirituality into their religious lives and their ministries. A formidable task, this requires a rethinking and readapting of many teachings and beliefs that were entrenched in childhood and young-adult education. Fur-thermore, not all are in agreement regarding this concept; theologians, priests and religious continue to argue the place of sexuality in human development. As a personal and corporate enterprise, developing healthy sexuality is no easy task! Sexuality as a holistic concept suggests that the overall quality of people's lives is reflected in their interactions. If they are having difficul- .ties with their feelings, then these people will have difficulties with their sexuality. If intellectually confused or agitated, then they will be sexually and spirituhlly impeded. Feeling unaccepted by or alienated from their pri- 204 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 mary support congregation or diocese, these people will suffer other rela-tional and spiritual problems as well. Hazards of Vocation Ministry Vocatipn ministry is uniquely demanding, and recent reports and research on vocation directors indicate the importance of personal and sexual integration. Perhaps one of the most telling findings is th~ fact that the attrition rate from the ministry on the part of vocation directors exceeds sixty percent. They leave the ministry altogether either while still functioning as directors or shortly after terminating their positions. This certainly underscores the intensity and problems indigenous to this ministry. Another finding is the high rate of burnout reported by vocation directors. It is not uncommon for a vocation director to wear a variety of ministerial hats simultaneously. Many hold two or more jobs, each of which is reputed to be part-time but which, in fact, requires full-time involvement and energy. In addition to their vocation .ministry, many administrate diocesan offices (e.g., deaconate programs), function as parish pastors, or hold full-time teaching positions. They do many differ-ent things during the day, yet retire at night feeling exhausted and unfulfilled, both of which lead to apathy, resentment, and indifference-- all classic symptoms of burnout, the result of unmet personal needs. Some vocation directors report increased cynicism and hostility ~oward the people they serve. What they initially entered into with enthu-siasm and optimism has become fraught with boredom and drudgery. Another manifestation of burnout, this frequently translates into intropunitive aggression whereby some vocation directors gain an average of ten to thirty pounds a year; others convert their cynicism into increased alcohol and drug consumption. A frequent complaint of vocation directors is the pain of alienation they experience from the very groups they represent. Erratic s~hedules, travel, and workshop demands can preclude regular contact with their base group for prayers, meals, and recreation. Praying and eating alone can be lonely experiences, so vocation directoi's may seek support else-where. Sometimes they request a transfer to another community or diocese; sometimes they look outside their congregations for their primary support networks. In either case, they become increasingly disenchanted with their communities and .their work, all of which contributes to the high attrition rate reported above. Another source of alienation from base congregation and diocesan groups is the updated education most vocation directors receive. As fre- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 205 quent participants in workshops, conferences, and regional meetings, voca-tion directors are exposed to the most recent theorizing and research in issues pertinent to religious life. They hear the latest on theological and psychological implications for richer ministerial actualization, and they are eager to implement these insights in their own communities. The base groups, not having been similarly exposed, are often confused over these "newfangled ideas" which seem to come as a shot in the dark. "After all," they reason, "this person is seldom with us. She or he is out and about, breezes in for a day or two, and expects us to change overnight without being an active member in the change process." Mutual recrimina-tions ensue; vocation directors perceive their base groups as closed to new ideas while base group members perceive vocation directors as free-wheeling individuals with their own cars, budgets, and schedules, and who enjoy the luxury of travel and trouble shooting. These conflicts play themselves out as a painful push-pull between the directors' pleas for inno-vation and the group members' refusal to budge. Vocation directors may then conclude that they can no longer, in honesty, represent their com-munities, which they have come to view as narrow-minded and static. Another source of personal frustration and community alienation for vocation directors is the intangibility of results in vocation ministry. Many congregations and seminaries stress the importance of quality candidates, yet when yearly evaluations roll around, actual "body count" seems to loom larger than quality control. Vocation directors have been known to invest enormous amounts of time and energy in candidates who, through such intense interaction, learn that ministry is not their authentic vocation. These individuals do not show up on "body count" charts, and vocation directors again find themselves trying to justify themselves as "really doing their jobs." Candidates who opt out of niinisterial pursuits have truly been ministered to. Yet how to account for such ministry is a dilemma faced by all vocation directors. ,~ Another problem reported by vocation directors is the feeling of "going crazy." Not unique to vocation directors, this symptom is fre-quently accompanied by the fragmentation experienced during normal, predictable, adult-development transitions. A person going through midlife transition while engaging in vocation ministry may feel that life has become too much to bear. Unable to differentiate ministerial issues from developmental issues, vocation directors can come to the premature and often erroneous conclusion that their work is the sole source of all their problems. Further compounding the situation is their perceived alien-ation from community, which leads vocation directors to believe that they cannot honestly voice their concerns to their brothers and sisters. 206 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 Taken together, these hazards can leave vocation directors feeling lonely and alone. Feeling alienafed, angry, and perhaps personally inade-quate, vocation directors are ripe for relational and sexual problems. Warning Signs There are many signs indicating that vocation directors are in rela-iional or sexual jeopardy. The following represent a compilation of several voiced by religious and diocesan vocation directors over the past few years. "Using relationships" can suggest poor sexual integration. This means viewing people as means to an end rather than ends in themselves. This occurs when directors approach others for what they can offer or do for them." Referring to others by title ratherthan by name--"my secre-tary," "my candidate," "my brother priest," "my sisters in community"--all are examples; they imply either ownership and/or dis-tance. The personal element is missing, suggesting that others' functions and/or commodities are more important than their persons. Some directors are plagued by pervasive anger, another signal of distorted sexual integration. They find everyone and everything upsetting, behaving as seething cauldrons of discontent. Their inability to enjoy life, to derive pleasure from people or activities, points directly to a lack of personal integration, which leads to impoverished sexual and spiritual expression. The challenge for these individuals is to identify the sources of their anger and to do what they can to rectify the situation rather than to target others inappropriately. Any increase in indulgence signals danger. Most people probably think of alcohol, drugs, or food in this regard, ,but they would be simplistic to end their list with these. Any compulsive indulgence is a warn-ing: compulsive exercise, compulsive visiting, compulsive TV viewing, and compulsive reading are a few examples. These behaviors represent a struggle to impose external controls which, individuals hope, will com-pensate for internal chaos. It is the internal fragmentation that threatens healthy integration, not the lack of food, exercise, or reading in their lives when people carry these activities to extremes. Another warning sign is preoccupation with others' relationships. These people seem to be perpetually immersed in somebody else's sexual/ relational lives. Most often the targets of their concern are family mem-bers~ and friends outside of the primary community or diocesan base group. Living vicariously through others will never substitute for living authentically through personal relationships, yet these people would prefer relationship-atka-distance to 15ersonal risk. They seem to be inter- Vocation Directors and Healthy Sexuality / 207 ested in relationship, yet they live divorced from relationship. Further-more, by attending to those outside of the base community or group, these women and men are avoiding their obligations of presence to and relationship within their primary commitment arena. Curiosity focused almost exclusively on others' sexual behaviors is a clear indication of unresolved personal sexual issues. Vocation directors must be especially vigilant in this by observing and monitoring the kinds of topics and questions that seem to demand their greatest energies. Does the conversation always seem to turn to sex? Are dates reviewed in minute detail? Are sexual histories more detailed than educational or family histories? Affirmative responses to any of these suggest that the vocation directors, more than the candidates, may have sexual problems. It is possible that directors are projecting their own needs and fantasies onto the candidates. A very obvious warning sign is a preoccupation with overtly sexual material. Increased viewing of x-rated films, compulsive reading and/or collecting of pornographic literature, and frequenting of strip bars may reveal unresolved sexual and relational tensions. Here, the problem is not so much one of the preoccupation itself as what it signifies. Marked changes in affectional displays, either noticeable reductions or increases, can be symptomatic of sexual disintegration. Normally affectionate people who become stand-offish, or normally distant people who suddenly need to touch whomever they are talking with,'are sending out pleas for help. In effect, they are demonstrating current discomfort with themselves and are revealing this through their behavior. .In all of these, people have failed to integrate or are struggling to rede-fine their sexual identities. As happens when individuals are agitated, they tend to look to others and the environment first as the possible source of or solution to their difficulties. Until the inner source or solution is dis-covered, these individuals are doomed to look for answers in all the wrong places, frus~trating themselves and others in the process. Healthy sexuality is a personal responsibility and privilege. Developing Healthy Sexuality The fii'st step toward h.ealthy sexual integration is education. People need to learn the basics of biology and human sexual response so they can make informed decisions about their personal sexuality. People in our society too often grew up in a culture where sexual myths outweighed facts, generating fear and inco .mplete information. Many women and men continue to function out of adolescent fears and fantasies developed when they learned half the sexual stor3) from friends who had, at best, about 201~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1987 one-tenth of the total plot. The sad tragedy is that many women and men religious do not know how to read their own body responses when in intense or angering or sexual situations. Simple, straightforward informa-tion is an available corrective. A sad reality is that men, more than women, are reluiztant to seek solid sexual education. Current research sug-gests that this is because men in our culture have been raised to believe that they must be sexually knowledgeable, and to seek information wo(ild be to violate their masculine image. Credible vocation directors, like all religious and priests, cannot afford to perpetuate that stereotype. Personal sexual evaluation is the next step toward healthy sexual integration. Armed with valid biological and sexual data, women and men must then assess their personal sexual identities. They must ask them-selves, "How comfortable am I with my own sexuality? What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a man? Do I know when I am sexually aroused, and what can I do about it within the bounds of my public celibate stance? What is my definition of relationship, and where does affection and/or sexual expression apply?" The answers to these and related questions must come from within. Opinions and text-books can guide reflection, but personal response is essential. Along with personal sexual evaluation is the challenge to develop s6me understanding of personal sexual orientations, whether they be ambisexual, homosexual/lesbian, or heterosexual. Since sexuality is con-stantly in process, so also will be individuals' assessment of their identities, but this does not preclude the need to think about and accept where they find themselves at this time in their process. Developing and evaluating personal philosophies of celibacy, sexuality, and intimacy are prerequisites to healthy sexual integration. People must hold themselves accountable to some code of sexual moral-ity. Too many people employ too much energy reacting to and refuting others' definitions of sexual

Ezekiel R. Dumke Jr. ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 39p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Ezekiel R. Dumke Jr. Interviewed By Rebecca Ory Hernandez 5 September 2012 12 September 2012 i ii Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Ezekiel R. Dumke Jr. Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 5 September 2012 12 September 2012 Copyright © 2013 by Weber State University, Stewart Library iii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in the University Archives, which also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Dumke, Ezekiel R., an oral history by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, 5 and 12 September 2012, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. Ezekiel R. Dumke Jr. September 12, 2012 Ezekiel R. Dumke Jr. ca. 1943 1 Abstract: Ezekiel R. Dumke, Jr. "Zeke" was born June 3, 1923 in Ogden to Dr. E.R. and Edna Dumke. His father was a well-known local physician and his grandfather, E.O. Wattis, was a principal of the Utah Construction Company. Zeke sat down with Rebecca Ory Hernandez in his office in Salt Lake City to share stories about his family, including his parents, his brother, Ed, and his sister, Markey Dumke Healy, who passed away this year. Zeke reflected on his life growing up and attending Polk School in Ogden as well as his time spent in the Navy during World War II in the South Pacific. He attended Weber College for a short time in 1946. He met and married Katherine White, daughter of Ogden's Mayor Rulon and Reva White. Zeke was President of Western States Management and serves on many Boards of Directors and was president of the Dr. Ezekiel R. and Edna W. Dumke Foundation. Zeke and his family named the Ezekiel R. Dumke College of Health Professions, and recently named an endowed professorship in the college. Markey named the Dumke Simulation Laboratory in the Ezekiel R. Dumke College of Health Professions. The family continues to give generously to many local causes as one of the leading philanthropists in Utah. ROH: Today is Wednesday, August 15, 2012 and I am in the office with Zeke Dumke. This is Rebecca Ory Hernandez from Weber State University and we are here to talk a little bit about Zeke's history. ZD: Going back on my earliest memorable childhood experiences at Polk School, my grandfather, who was president of the six companies building the Boulder Dam, 2 took me on a personal tour where we stayed in the guest house down in Boulder City. He took me down on the dam site and up on the elevators where they were building the dam and looked in the tunnels. He gave me a map of what they were doing in the way of construction that I took that home and presented it to my class. This would be in 1934 during my fourth grade year. They were so impressed that they then had me present it to the total school assembly. Never having been involved in anything like that before, it was quite a memorable experience in my childhood. ROH: Tell me about your siblings. ZD: I had one older sister, Markey, who died earlier this year and I have a brother, Ed, who is three years younger. ROH: Did you have a group of friends that you would hang out with at Polk School? ZD: Not in particular. There was one fellow that lived a block down whose name was Harry Poe. He went into the Air Force during the war and he has died since. ROH: What were some of the things you did in Ogden as a child? ZD: Our backyard connected to my grandfather's home and the middle of his street split around a park. We used to call it the "watermelon circle." Various neighborhood kids would get together there and we'd play games and other things there. ROH: Were you born in the same house you grew up in? ZD: Yes. It was built by my grandfather. 3 ROH: Was that on Eccles or Van Buren? ZD: Van Buren. Next door was a home also built by my grandfather for my Aunt Ruth. My mom and Aunt Ruth had a double wedding. ROH: We know your dad was a fine physician in town. Did you ever go with your father on any calls that he went on? ZD: His first operational schedule was at seven o'clock. My best visits with him would be as he got ready to go to the hospital. I'd go in and sit on the stool and visit with him. He was a very busy man and sometimes he would take me up to the hospital on his tours. ROH: Did you ever think that you might go into medicine yourself? ZD: I did. I was planning to go into medicine when the war started, but I was called into duty. ROH: What division of the military did you go into? ZD: I graduated with a commission in horse cavalry. My parents had horses and I was raised with horses. At the age of 13 and 14, I was in horse shows and I won quite a few cups. ROH: Was the horse cavalry part of the army? ZD: Yes. By the time I graduated in 1943, the horses were eliminated and the army had gone mechanized. That meant that the cavalry people would go into tanks. I really get Closter phobic, so I didn't want to be in tanks. Just before they called 4 me, I joined the Naval Aviation program. I went on duty in June of 1943, I was a Naval Cadet. ROH: Did you learn how to fly? ZD: Yes, I started off in flight prep and then we had War Training Service (WTS). That was where we learned to fly. After that, I went to Iowa Preflight for my Preflight Training and about that time the navy realized they had many more pilots than they needed. They were not losing them in the Pacific as fast as they thought they would. I was then transferred and I spent the rest of the war as a quartermaster on a submarine chaser. ROH: Where were you? ZD: I was in the South Pacific. We did mainly convoy work between the Marshall Islands and anywhere from Guam to New Guinea to the Western Pacific. ROH: How long did you serve? ZD: Thirty-nine months. ROH: After the Southern Pacific did you come back to Utah? ZD: The war ended in August and the following March I was discharged on March 10, 1946. I went back to Weber College for my first quarter and then went down to University of Utah. ROH: Do you have any memories from that first quarter at Weber that you'd like to share? 5 ZD: Not really. I just came in a little late and the quarter was short and I was just getting acquainted. I really didn't know many people and I went up to our cabin at the Hebgen in the Summer of 1946, then I started at the University of Utah. ROH: Do you remember any of your teachers at Weber College? Did anyone make an impact on your education? ZD: No. It was a very brief quarter. ROH: Where did you spend your summers growing up and as a young man? ZD: My father bought a cabin on the Hebgen Lake in Montana. He had a dear friend by the name of Dr. Ochsner who had started the Ochsner clinic in New Orleans and they used to go fishing in the Summer time. Dr. Ochsner would bring his boys up to Montana. He had three of them that match up with my brother and me. Dr. Ochsner was famous for his crusade against smoking and was probably responsible for the labels on the cigarette packages that congress requires. My mother was a heavy smoker. On a trip back East, she was looking at a diamond bracelet she thought was really pretty and my dad said he would buy it for her if she would quit smoking. She did, just like that. She said, "For how long?" He said, "For at least a year." She said, "What if I start to smoke after that?" He said, "I'd hope you'd have more sense than that." Well, she quit for a year then she started again and died from cancer of the mouth as a result of her smoking. ROH: Do you know how your dad and Dr. Ochsner became friends? 6 ZD: My dad was very involved with upgrading of medical education. He studied in both Berlin and Vienna. Along the way, he met Dr. Ochsner. In 1944, my dad started the Ogden Surgical with Dr. Fister and Dr. Rich. He was one of the three founders. Dr. Ochsner would come each year as a speaker and bring his boys. ROH: Were you ever tempted to go back into medicine after returning from the war? ZD: After being gone for four years, I tried to pick up my classes right where I left off and it was a disaster. I realized that with those kinds of grades, I'd never be able to get into medical school, so I switched to business. I graduated in banking and finance. I had a friend, Jack Craighead whose father had multiple sclerosis. His mother, Madeline Craighead was a very dynamic lady, and she started the MS Society for the state of Utah and got me involved. I was the treasurer and later president. I am listed as a founder and I volunteered there for 14 years. That was my first public service kind of job. ROH: What were some of the things you did in starting that group? ZD: We weren't really interested in research; we were just trying to help patients. Actually at the end of it, my sister moved back to Salt Lake City after a divorce and she was the local representative for MS until she married Pat Healy of Ogden who became the director of the National Municipal League. Their job was to watch what government was doing and to lobby on behalf of the cities. ROH: Meanwhile, where were you living at this point? You studied business at the University of Utah, were you living in Salt Lake? 7 ZD: I never went back to Ogden after I started at the university. I always thought there would be another war and I didn't want to go back to the Navy. The sub chasers were too rough for me. I signed up for ROTC again for another year because I'd already had four years of ROTC. I got commissioned in field artillery. That was not a wise move because shortly after that, the Korean War started and I was listed as an officer without any service time with my commission. So, I was subject to call. I stayed active at the Fort with the 96th Division. Fortunately, we were never called to active duty. When I graduated from the University, there were three things I was interested in and had an opportunity to get a job in. I went to San Francisco to meet with my cousin, Bill Kimball, who had an army reserve job of lining up all the various industries for war duties in the San Francisco area. If there was another war they would know who to call on to do what. He was able to introduce me to people in the areas in which I was interested. When I was in school, Don Bradshaw ran the insurance agency for his father's firm, American Savings and Loan. I worked there and had exposure to casualty insurance and I liked that. So, I decided to go into the casualty insurance business. Through an introduction from my cousin, I met with the Standard Accident Insurance Company of Detroit. They suggested that I go to their training program for six months in Detroit. That's what I did. Right after I got out of the service, a big thing in my life was skiing. One of my ski buddies was Bob White. Once, while skiing in Snowbasin, he went over to talk to this beautiful blonde and I said, "Who's that?" He said, "That was just my 8 sister." Katherine and I met while she was a senior in high school and the following year she went to the University of Utah and we dated during her Freshman year. We didn't date again until her senior year. Her story was that it was to give me time to grow up. If we kept going together we probably never would have married. ROH: You don't think so? ZD: No, we were on different ships. ROH: How did you guys get back together? ZD: I think she realized what a quality person I was, but that's not her story. Anyway, we got together. If you want some humor in this, her dad was the mayor of Ogden at that time. ROH: What was his name? ZD: Rulon White. He was trying to clean up lower 25th Street in those days. He'd been warned that if he didn't let up on things that his daughter would be endangered. The police were keeping a good eye on his home. ROH: Where did he live? ZD: Near the corner of 28th Street and Harrison one down from the corner. I'd take out his daughter and every time I'd drive her home and park in front of his house to get acquainted the police would come up and ask me what I was doing. In August, I knew I was going back to Detroit and I wanted to give her a ring. My father had a lot up on upper 28th Street right by the foothill, so I thought that 9 would be the place I would go and not be bothered while I give her the ring. I had just slipped this ring on her finger and she wanted to turn on the car lights to be able to see it. Little did I know, my father told the police that people were coming up and having beer parties on his lot and asked if they'd keep an eye on it. As the lights turned on, here came the police. I often joke that the Ogden police tried their hardest to keep me from getting engaged, but I was fortunate and finally got it together. ROH: What was Katherine thinking when the police pulled up all these times? ZD: I don't know. Her dad was their boss. ROH: Who was telling him to lay off 25th Street? ZD: It was the mafia figures. They had the gambling, prostitution and all that was going on. ROH: Speaking of 25th Street, did you go out on dates to any of the places on 25th Street at that time? Was it a popular place for you to go? ZD: They used to have a large dance hall just up the hill from Ben Lomond Hotel. My wife and I always enjoyed dancing up there. ROH: Did you go shopping around 25th Street at that time? Was it a destination for activities? ZD: No. We had some very nice stores along Washington Boulevard, like Fred M. Nye and L.R. Samuels. I don't think any of those stores are in existence 10 anymore. The Ben Lomond was a fine hotel then. Commercial Security Bank was there as well. ROH: Was your dad still practicing medicine at this time? ZD: My dad was practicing and he was the first Chief of Staff of the Dee Hospital. He felt they needed more than just one hospital during the war and they saw an opportunity to have the government involved in building another hospital. It just so happened that the man in charge establishing hospitals for the army had been one of his commanding officers in World War I. He was very helpful in getting that put together and my father was the first Chief of Staff for St. Benedict's. ROH: Do you recall him saying anything about the fact that it was a good thing for Ogden to have two hospitals during that time? ZD: I was in the service at that time and had very little communication. ROH: So you were married in 1951. Where did you get married? ZD: April 17, 1951 at the Ogden Country Club. ROH: Tell me a little bit about it. ZD: It was a big wedding. The thing I remember the most is that I had a lot of friends that were really out to decorate my car when I left there because I had been guilty in taking part in sabotaging theirs. Fortunately, since Rulon White was the mayor, I told the Chief of Police that I was going to have problems. He took my car and it was not available until I got ready to leave and the police drove it up to 11 me and I drove off. That really upset my friends, they thought that was illegal politics. ROH: What did you do to your other friends cars? ZD: We used to tie cans on them and use soap to write over the windows and put rice up in the visors and all that kind of stuff. ROH: What did you do after you were married for work? ZD: Alder Wallace had a small agency and they wanted me to take care of it while I built my own agency. I did that for a short time, but the general agent didn't like me being there while building my own business because he was afraid I would walk off with all of the business his current agent had. I started my own agency and this was about the start of the Uranium boom. I saw the opportunity of dealing with some of the Texas people that were coming in for the purpose of drilling for Uranium. Perhaps I could handle the Utah business. I solicited a few of these people and that also got me involved to some degree in the Uranium business. ROH: Did you go to Texas and speak with them or was this in Utah? ZD: Here in Utah. I got quite an education in the drilling and prospecting business. I was given 20 or 30 claims and the operators decided to drill. Suddenly, the cost of drilling my claims was way beyond the money that I had at that time, so I abandoned the prospecting business. That was an early business experience, but I made some good friends and contacts in that area. 12 ROH: Would we know the names of any of those companies today? ZD: None of them are in business. Most of them were partnerships of people that were older than I was and they're gone now. There was a geologist by the name of Cliff Goldsmith in Dallas, Texas that I'm still in touch with. Moab gave me a start on my insurance business and it began to build slowly in Salt Lake City. I still had business contacts and one of my friends was Dick Ruling who was the manager of Hertz rental cars for Utah. It was owned by his father-in-law. Dick and his wife, Nancy, would go camping with us. One day, we decided to go down the San Juan River with a guide by the name of Gaye Stavely. He was excited about the fact that there was going to be a Glen Canyon dam set up on the Arizona line. It would be a very big dam that would back up 180 miles into Utah. He wanted to be a concessionaire. When we sat down and talked to him, it turned out that he wanted us to put up all the money and he would run it and have a big stake in it. We didn't want to do that. Dick had gasoline contacts with Chevron. Chevron was interested in getting the gas business for the new concession on Lake Powell. There was no road into this area and no development. There was a concession right across the Lake called Hall's Crossing that was run by Calvin Black. We got Calvin and some of his mining friends to join us in putting in a bid to the National Park Service. The Park Service felt that since we had Chevron and we had operators that were already working in that area in the mining business and used to tackling difficult contracts, that we would be the ideal people to take on this concession. We called it Bullfrog Marina. 13 The State of Utah started to build a road into the area. The Park Service had already established some buildings with material brought up from Paige, Arizona by boat and created some housing for their park service people. There was a contract for the road. It was during the period of the Vietnam War and money was not very available. We had our Senator, Ted Moss, who had a lot of influence with where the money went for roads and other things. Every time there was a little money left over he would direct it to our road in Utah. The government told us the road would never be done because there would be no funding, but it did get done thanks to Senator Moss. During this period, Calvin Black and the other miners from Blanding, Utah got in a fight over some mining claims. They wanted to have their interest purchased. Dick Ruling and I did that. Then, Calvin Black wanted to have a lot of special considerations that we didn't want to do so we ended up purchasing his interests as well. At that point, we found ourselves building and operating Bullfrog. We had another friend named Lincoln White who was in the jewelry business and liked to have exciting ventures and he joined us. There were three of us that owned the concession at that point. Since my time was more flexible, I ended up doing all the direction and working with the architects and the park service on what buildings we could build and where. I became the General Manager, but I was never hired that way I just ended up doing it. I spent twelve years in that capacity until we sold it to the Del Webb Company. Along the way, our road was completed and we started to have visitors come in. They all needed a place to stay and the only way we could do 14 that was with house trailers. We started a village of house trailers. Utah people were famous for coming down with all of the supplies that we would have liked to sell to them including gasoline. So, business was rather scarce in the early years. We heard of the success that some other operators had on park service lakes with houseboats. We got into the houseboat business and over the years ended up purchasing smaller boats 30 or 40 feet long, but everybody always wanted the biggest boat so we ended up buying boats that were 50 feet long. ROH: Did you rent these boats or were they purchased? ZD: We purchased about 80 houseboats and our clients rented them. There was good income with them. Our boats slept anywhere from 6 to 20 people depending on how our customers packed people in. Many people would sleep in sleeping bags on top of the roof. They liked to be under the open sky. We ended up purchasing a large assortment of boats over the years. We had to laugh because we really had more boats than we had slips or places to put them. It was like a juggler. We always had to have some of them out on the lake at all times in order to accommodate them. People in Utah didn't understand houseboats at first, but we did get a lot of people from California and Colorado. Early on, we had a houseboat delivered to a boat show in Salt Lake City to let people know about it and had a lot of people come through and they still didn't rent them. We had very few people from Utah use our houseboats in the first year or two and then the number grew. ROH: Give me an idea of the year now, what was the first year you rented boats? 15 ZD: About 1966, after the road was finished. Then we increased the number of customers. In the first years, we ended up with maybe only 2,000 people a year. Later, we both had up to 150,000 visitors. The houseboats business was really what made our operation a success. Houseboats had bedrooms and the bigger ones had three bedroom areas plus cots, so they brought a lot of people who bought a lot of supplies and gasoline and so on. Since we were on a lake that was rising up to 100 feet in depth each, it covered a lot of ground that we had to move over to try to keep our marina and our facility operating. At first, we were going to have a marina which floated on steel tanks. An outfit from Oklahoma came in and said, "Don't do that because those tanks won't last." They invited us to come back to Oklahoma City and took us down to Lake Texoma which is on the Texas and Oklahoma border. They showed us a marina that had been built on steel tanks that suffered from electrolysis between the electricity in the boats and the tanks. It would eventually put little pin holes into the tanks and they'd take on water and start to sink. That gave us the lesson of why we didn't want to have steel tanks. Instead, we went to Styrofoam and bought them from Mecco Engineering in Oklahoma. Over the years, we developed 150 slips and they worked out quite well. The park service was responsible for furnishing the roads and the power lines. The problem was that every spring the water would come up and we'd have to move. They didn't have it in the budget to put in new roads or power, so we ended up doing it and would go to the park service and hope to get our money back. Those expenses got to be quite high. We finally moved the whole marina 16 up to a new location. As the water came up and as the lake got bigger, the waves also got bigger. We had to move the whole marina around into the next canyon where we had land to block some of the waves to be able to operate the marina. Between the cost of having to buy all of the boats and marinas, and advancing the money for the roads, parking and getting the power lines down, the government was creating a loss for us of over a half-million dollars. We were trying to get government repayment. In the meantime, Del Webb had purchased Wahweap at the south end of the lake. They had quite a problem because their rented boats would get up to our place which was a hundred miles away or even 80 miles further and break down and it was a losing proposition to try to get service boats to go that far to do the repair work. They were very anxious to try to get either Hall's Crossing or our place, so we made a deal to sell to Del Webb. The interest rates were going up so rather than pay us they agreed to do it in installments at market interest plus two percent. With the interest rates going up, the interest got as high as 22 percent. At 22 percent, we were making more money on having sold it than we would have made by operating. Webb had to sell their casinos in Lake Tahoe and Las Vegas in order to get the money to pay off the banks back East before they could pay us off. I ended up working for Del Webb from the time we sold in 1977 until they paid us off in 1982. They had to pay me and maintain my office in Salt Lake City until we finally settled. I used my share of the payments to build warehouses. 17 At this time, my daughter was married to Scott Thornton, who was a contractor. Because I was doing this building, Scott came to work for me. My son, Zeke III, who had graduated with an MBA from Northwestern, went to work with a company called GATX which was a large internationally leasing company. Most of the tank cars that you see on the railways were leased by GATX as well as airplanes and mining equipment. He's very smart and good with computers and he was hired by GATX in San Francisco. They then transferred him to head the Denver office. He had to service and call on people all the way from Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, North and South Dakota. That was too much traveling, so he left them. He moved back to Salt Lake City and came to work for me to learn about my development business. He learned all I could teach him in six months and I've been hanging on to his shirt tail ever since. ROH: When did he come to work for you? ZD: It would have been about 1984 or 1985. At that point, things started to get more advanced in the office and I'm trying to figure out what it's all about. He came to me one day and said, "Dad, the girls are taking too much time trying to teach you about computers to keep up. Why don't you just tell them what you want to do and let them do it?" That was sort of the end of my computer work. The more advanced they got, the further behind I got. Zeke III got to the point where he wanted to have a paperless office and got everything on the computers. My daughter, Claire, and her future husband, Steve Ryberg, spent summers at the Hebgen Dam in our respective cabins. Our families would go up 18 there every summer. Later, they were looking for land on the Hebgen for their own cabin. They stumbled upon a ranch that was going to be for sale for about 2 million dollars and it included about 2,000 acres on the north lakeside of Hebgen which was private land rather than forestry. It was a little too expensive for them, so Steve and the family decided they'd like to buy it together. I knew that with the land at that price that he could make many times more than what he had in it. The whole family got involved. I could see that if you were going to have various houses there that they'd all want to be on the lake and have a place for their boat. There was a small marina there that they could buy. It wasn't making much money and we bought it cheaply. It got to be a problem because Scott, Betsy's husband, who was also partner in Salt Lake didn't really like being involved in something in Montana. Steve had sort of taken the lead on the marina and Scott was sort of against it. My oldest daughter Betsy, really didn't want to have anything to do with business, so Scott was her voice which then created some problems with our other children. They could all work together, but Scott was an independent speaking for Betsy. So, I was trying to work it out. Their agreement was that they would have to act unanimously on any investments and they did, but Scott and Betsy were going different directions. It became apparent that they either had to buy him out or make an arrangement where the majority ruled which is what we finally worked out. During this whole time, Zeke and Scott separated in the Salt Lake business. Zeke became the sole owner of Western States Management, which 19 had been my company. I arranged to take the balance of what I owned and transfer it to the children. Scott had an arrangement with the Woodbury Company which was a very big in real estate within the Intermountain area. Zeke didn't want to be in the building business. He liked the investment business, as did Scott. We obtained an interest in shopping centers through Scott and Woodbury. We have the Hampton Hotel in Salt Lake City and land in Idaho and Montana. Zeke and Scott run those together. We also built and operated the 721 shopping mall, which was near my office. There's also an office building on that mall. ROH: The one that has the Jimmy John's sandwich shop and San Pan? ZD: Yes. All of that area including the office building and the parking terrace underneath. There was a group building a Hampton, but they weren't able to find any land downtown. So, we donated the land and became partners. We have a similar deal with a Hampton Hotel next to our hotel in Springdale. We gave them the water rights and land and we have 51 percent interest. If we ever ran into a big problem we could either buy their interest or sell our controlling interest. ROH: Were you still involved in your insurance company, or did you abandon that at some point? ZD: I sold it. When I got involved as general manager of Bullfrog Resort, I had an airplane and I kept my office in Salt Lake, but would fly down to Bullfrog. I'd get an area manager to watch things, but I was the general manager. We had to do all our ordering and keep track of everything through my office in Salt Lake. I'd fly back and forth as needed. We'd normally get about 6 to 10 house boats each 20 year, but it would cost a lot of money. With the park service, we weren't able to bring in any new partners without their permission. At one time, my parents were going to put in $10,000, but it took us six months to get them cleared. Until 1972 we'd work with the park service and we considered ourselves partners. We'd operate and build the resort but they owned it. However, anything we built there was covered by possessory interest. That meant that they would recognize the amount of money that we'd put in and if they didn't renew our contract, they had to buy us out. They really didn't like that. They wanted all of our investments to depreciate and then buy our interest even though it may be worth much more. So, that possessory interest was very valuable to us. Any time we increased gas prices or food prices or rentals, we always had to get approval of the government and that always took a few months. It's really hard doing business that way. When I sold the resort I saw this other situation in Springdale where we owned the land and ran our business. That was much better. ROH: A lot more fun. ZD: Yes. I just didn't realize the problems we'd have. In effect, we had the ownership, but the city council and the planning commission were all elected by probably 90 percent Mormons that were the voice in the background was what controlled the zoning down there. We had a lot of problems getting anything done. For instance, they had a regulation against any high-rise building there. You could come in and build a two-story with a peak roof, but you couldn't go any more than that. We were on a slope, so the back of our building could be three 21 stories, but the front was only two stories. You had to determine if the three story was in violation or keep the two story. We had to come back and pile enough dirt on the bottom that they could say that it was a basement plus two stories. It was those kinds of problems that were pretty tough to deal with. Anyway, it's worked out well and we have a Best Western down there that has been very profitable. In addition, we're able to do the next hotel, The Hampton, and have enough room to do one more hotel after that on our land. ROH: Tell me about your spot in Yellowstone. ZD: This is the marina that was next to the ranch the family bought. They have some small cabins that are not furnished. If you've got a sleeping bag and if you don't need an inside toilet, they're not bad. We now have some bigger ones that do have a toilet, but the first ones were just a roof over your head. We also have a nice trailer park. ROH: That keeps the bears out. I think that's important. ZD: That's right, the bears and the bats. My wife is terrified by bats. Robert Redford used to come down and use our place. One time he went out on one of the houseboats and he got a little bite. He said, "It must have been a bat." That got carried nationally stating that Robert Redford had been bit by a bat on a houseboat at Bullfrog. He never knew if it was a bat, and I don't think it was. ROH: Was it good for business that he mentioned that he was in Bullfrog? 22 ZD: It was terrible. We had a lot of people cancel their reservations. We have a lot of stories about what happened there. We had one fellow that went out and just started with a canoe. He had a little outboard engine with a tube going to the gas tank. He didn't get 40 feet off land and somehow the canoe tipped over or swamped and the cord got caught around his ankle and he drowned. When we got the body back up he was dead. We were in Garfield County and the sheriff that had to come and investigate any death claims was in Cain County. He would have to drive through two other counties to get around in Bullfrog. The county line was about three miles north which put Bullfrog in his county. He still had to investigate, so we had to lay the body in the garage overnight until he could get up there. ROH: One question I wanted to ask you was about your children. How many children do you have? ZD: I have four children, three girls and my son Zeke Dumke III. Our oldest daughter, Betsy, and Scott Thornton live up by the Canyons Resort in Snyderville. Betsy is a great horse person and has five horses. She does a lot of riding and is also involved in the community and other things. She's currently the chairman of the National Advisory Committee for the University of Utah. She and Scott are both on the board of Nature Conservancy and she's on the board of KUED. Our daughter, Claire Reyberg, graduated as a nurse and worked with the emergency ward at LDS hospital for a few years until she married Steve and moved to Idaho where he was a forestry ranger. She worked at a small hospital there. Steve was then transferred to Evanston, Wyoming. For about 20 years he was the head 23 ranger there over the Uintah Mountains. He retired two years ago and they moved back to McCall, Idaho. Our son, Zeke, lives here in town. Our youngest, Andrea, is married to Mike Manship, a retired geologist, and they live in Bosman, Montana. They are close to where they can get up to the cabin and we see them in the summer. ROH: Where was he working as a geologist before he retired? ZD: He worked for some mines in South Africa and worked in some geology deals in this country. ROH: Today is Wednesday, September 12, 2012. Today we are going to discuss your family's foundation and how it began and a little bit about the history of your family's involvement in the foundation and philanthropy in Utah. I will let you go ahead and start. ZD: I was married in 1951, six years after I got out of the service and at that time my father and mother had decided with the encouragement of their attorney to start a family foundation, the Dr. Ezekiel R. and Edna Wattis Dumke Foundation. Being the oldest son, they asked me to be president. At first the amount of money was small and my parents added to it every year. ROH: Do you recall the amount that the foundation started with at that time? ZD: It was something like $25,000 and it got up to the point of being $25,000,000 Most of it was General Electric stock which came because of the family connection with Utah Construction. The family stock in Utah Construction 24 became General Electric stock, which grew very fast in the 1990's. In 2000, General Electric had done more in the way of financing was receiving more income out of financing than from other projects and manufacturing. At that point, the market said, "This is really more like a bank than a manufacturing company." We saw General Electric tumble from nearly $60 a share down to $6 a share. That made quite a difference in the amount of gifting we did. It's coming back up. It's about 20 dollars a share now. I served as president of the company for 42 years. My dad died in 1961. His interest was in medical things. He wanted to help support doctors and medical groups with interesting ideas that would make the practicing medicine better. My mother was very interested in art and music. In the early years, those were the directions we went along with the united funds and the symphony and so forth. When I turned 80-years-old I thought I was really getting old, but little did I realize that in ten years that I would still be alive. On my next birthday, I will be 90. The directors at that time were my sister's daughter and my brother had some children that were participating and I had some children that participated. My brother ended up feeling that he was not getting as much from the Dumke Foundation as he would have liked in his area. He had a son that lived in California that didn't participate at all and he thought that was bad and that it would be better if he could get his third of the foundation and operate separately so he could divide it up among requests of his children and not be bothered with what we were doing. The other children enjoyed working together and going out on visits to various groups that we were making gifts to. Brother Ed wanted to be 25 able to assign a certain amount to each of his children and that person could make gifts to anything that was legally qualified to receive it. They don't have the meetings we do and make visits to the various groups that we're giving to. ROH: Did he name his foundation something different? ZD: It is called the Dumke Wattis Foundation. He has a group in Idaho that operates the Idaho foundations that do all the work. His foundation directors tell them how they want to gift the money. Whereas, we have meetings twice a year and we go on site visits. We are much more involved in the working of the foundation than his family. My sister's daughter Nancy Swanfelder is on our foundation and has her own foundation dealing with children. My sister also has a son, but he's never been involved in the foundation. That's the way it's been working up to this day. My second daughter, Claire, is the president of the foundation. ROH: I've met Claire on several occasions and she is delightful. ZD: Claire graduated as a nurse from the university and worked in the trauma unit of Intermountain Healthcare, so she's very wise as to medical needs and what's good. We got involved with Weber because they needed some money. The family made some gifts and they named the Health Science building for my dad. ROH: Yes, the Ezekiel R. Dumke College of Health Professions. ZD: Claire would talk to Weber and ask what he really needed that will make a difference. This last year he said, "What we really need to do is get into endowment chairs." The University of Utah has been very active in that and very 26 successful. Weber didn't have any of those and would really like to get started that way. At this time, because of the drop of our General Electric stock, we only give about $500,000 a year and in the meantime, presidential endowments have gone up to a million and a half. That seemingly was way out of our reach. My daughter Andrea, Claire and Nancy got together and said, "You know, if this is what they really want and it's worthwhile let's just say that we're not making any other gifts and we will concentrate on the endowment to Weber College for three years. So, that's what they are doing. ROH: That's incredible, thank you. ZD: We made a substantial gift this year and it will take three more years before we can meet that goal. ROH: That will make a huge difference in the quality of the faculty too. ZD: In the meantime, they decided that Nancy had served her time as president, Claire had served her time, and it was time for Andrea to step up and be the president. I think they all felt great about our grant in the medical field and for Weber State. My dad was very much a Weber and Ogden man and he felt that University of Utah and the colleges down south were getting more than their share so he was always pulling for Weber. When he first came to Ogden in his early years, he was the first chief of staff for the Dee Hospital and for the St. Benedict's Hospital. He was real Ogden man. 27 Our other foundation was started by Kay and Zeke in about 1990 and is called the Kay Foundation. It makes it easier than to try and stumble with two names. My wife has been president for a number of years. ROH: What was the focus of giving for the Kay Foundation? ZD: The focus was pretty much the same type of thing as we had in the Doctor Foundation. My wife was very interested in the arts and served at the museum of fine arts at the university. I was very interested in many things and the Red Butte Gardens. When I was working at Bullfrog, we were trying to plant trees and get a planting schedule. We had a man from the university on the Red Butte board by the name of Miles Layburn who was very knowledgeable and drew up our plans. Every time we'd submit the plans to the park service in San Francisco they'd say, "This won't work because this tree or that tree won't grow in that particular zone. At the university, Miles had seen these trees growing in Salt Lake City. Finally, after being turned down on two submissions, I told the park service, "Why don't you decide on the trees that you think will grow here?" Of course, they were not in the designing business, so very little was done in our landscaping. Miles was my introduction to Red Butte, where I served for thirty years. As the employees came in we needed trailers for about one hundred people. We needed not only trailers for our employees, but a school for their children and a store so they could all buy food. All of these needs had to be met in the first years of operations. We needed something that generated more 28 income so we got houseboats. I think I told you about that. We ended up having 75 houseboats, but that was both good and bad because every year, business was so good that we'd order half a dozen or a dozen houseboats. We started out with small, 34 foot houseboats, but everybody wanted the bigger ones. We kept ordering bigger ones and that brought in more people and more repair and that type of thing. The cost of all of these things got to be quite a problem because in order to get more money into the company, we had to clear it with the park service. I remember my parents were going to put in a small amount like $10,000 and it took us six months to get them cleared to put in the money. Obviously, we'd have houseboats coming down and we couldn't wait for 6 months to pay for them. We ran into a lot of problems that way. They also had to approve the rates that we charged on gasoline and housing. Del Webb had purchased the properties on the south part of the lake and it became a very difficult thing for them to service boats that broke down where we were because we were 100 miles away. They wanted to buy Bullfrog and we decided to sell it to them. In paying us off, I had two other partners, Dick Ruling who was president of Bullfrog and Lincoln White, who was in the jewelry business. They were to pay us off over a short period of years. So, we sold to Del Webb and they ran into trouble selling they completed their hotel in Atlantic City and that was right at the time of a big financial problem. They had to pay us on what they owed us for Bullfrog at an interest of two percent of a prime and prime got up to be 20 percent. So, the 22 percent we were making on what they were having to pay us was better than operating the company. So, that did give me 29 money to do other things with and I increased the funding for the Kay foundation and also ended up building warehouses and making real estate investments. ROH: When you started, what were some of the things you were supporting? ZD: We would look at almost any kind of foundation, but we had criteria. We wouldn't do any bricks and mortars. We didn't want to make a $10,000 gift into a 10 or 20 million dollar building because it didn't show anything. However, if we were interested in it, the directors could say, "If you've got a computer room or something inside, we can fund there." ROH: I'm assuming you were supporting the University of Utah and what about others? ZD: We don't support things that have more than 50 percent come from government because there were lots of public schools and there were too many of those. Libraries were the same way. When our small foundation got to the point where we got almost a hundred requests it got to be a lot of work. We had to find a way to cut it down. The way we did that was tightening up our criteria. We don't give to individuals, or small groups or scholarships or anything with an individual involved. We just had to decide what we could do and do it better. We closed on our geographical and said we are for the intermountain. We stretched that a little bit because we had family in Idaho and Montana and we consider that as intermountain. We require that organizations write in and ask for the amount they need and why. We'd pass that to all of the directors and they would say whether or not they were interested in hearing more about it. We'd take a vote from our directors 30 and if they had three or more votes out of our board, we'd tell them to submit a request. They can get the request off the computer to fill it in and those requests we'd send back out to directors and they were much more detailed. From there we'd take the ones that were the most popular and try to fit them within our budget. Looking at the variety of people on board, it was no surprise that we had a variety of things that we ended up clearing. We were all sensitive to what the other person wanted. In the early days, as I got into Red Butte Gardens, my mother made some gifts and our foundation made some gifts and after that I felt a little uncomfortable as president trying to submit requests to the foundation of which I was president. My wife and I did most of the funding for Red Butte Gardens on a personal basis. Having got into the foundation business, I was in rotary and we decided to have a foundation for rotary. Clayton Williams was president and he made me the first president of the Salt Lake Rotary Foundation. Our goal was to accumulate at least a million dollars to fund our work. Every year, the members put in about 5 dollars apiece each month for the foundation. That gave us about $40,000 dollars that we would give back to the rotary club for donations. ROH: Are you still active in rotary? ZD: Yes, I am. I joined the rotary in about 1978. It had a deal that once you've been in 20 years and after you're 80 years old, you can belong on a retired basis. We try to get 60 percent attendance for members that are in rotary, but after you 31 reach that qualification you don't have to pay for any luncheons that you don't attend. In 1994, I was president of rotary. That was the same year that I became president of Red Butte Gardens and president of the Alta Club. Later, I was invited to be on the hospital board at the University of Utah. It became apparent to me that academia was the political strength on the lower campus. It didn't want to see the university put any more money than they had to into the hospital. I thought that was wrong because we were the organization that was seeing the most people and we got to the point where we had more employees between the doctors and the nurses, so we decided to start the Health Science Council to try to get influential people to help us with our appeal for more months. I suggested that we start our own foundation. We were going to name it the University of Utah Hospital Foundation. The state said we can't put the name Utah in there if the state doesn't own it. So, we left Utah out. At the University of Utah, we have a special group like at the Eccles Foundation that make big gifts and the university didn't want to have too many individual departments approach the Eccles Foundation and have them say, "We have too many requests from the university and we don't like that. The university decides who can apply and holds it to about five and that's what the Hospital Foundation works on." We seldom were at a point where we could approach the forbidden list. The Dumke Foundation was on that list also. The University Hospital Foundation is the name I chose and we picked a public board. We could 32 then go out and start to approach other people for our needs within the health sciences and the hospital. It's turned out to be quite successful. There were some real bumps along the road when President Smith came in. It turned out that when he became president of the university in North Carolina, he replaced the president that got fired for using their hospital foundation funds for travel funds and as a slush bucket. So, President Smith was very sensitive about this foundation which was a separate corporation that he didn't control. We went through a couple of years where he wanted to change our articles and bylaws to the point that we could not operate as a separate foundation, but as we brought in new directors, he'd have to give the okay. They would be his directors, under his control and to me that was no better than the university doing it themselves. He moved on before the problem had to be settled and the foundation is still operating the way it used to do it. It is working under the health sciences and they're paying the payroll of all the people involved. We work under Steve Warner who was the development person for the health science. Obviously, we're very much a university facility even though we're a separate corporation. We have a separate board and we can do what we want. However, if Steve Warner tells us that we can't do it then we're not going to do it, but we are operating like a foundation. 33 ROH: What is your favorite avenue of giving? What appeals to you most? Is it still the gardens or is there another area? Obviously, you've done a tremendous amount for healthcare. ZD: My greatest interest probably remains in healthcare. My mother financed the kidney building. She had a friend up in Ogden that asked her why she didn't make gifts to the University of Utah. She was furious because she'd been very active, but my dad always wanted it to be anonymous. She went to the University and said, "I want to finance a building. They had several buildings that they were waiting to build and the kidney one was connected with medicine, so she said, "I'll take it." That's the Dumke kidney building there. Recently, they decided that they needed that room for another building. So they are going to tear it down. They told us this a couple of years ago, so my brother and sister and I gave a major gift to the health building. It is named after my mother and father. We've been very active with the women's groups such as the gymnastics team. They won a couple of nationals and their coach, Greg Marsden said, "We are starting to lose some really key prospects because they're looking at our old facilities for gymnastics. Other colleges want to get into gymnastics and have new buildings for it, so that's where the students are going. We need a new building." So, Kay and I financed it and we have the Dumke building for Utah girls. We had a soccer field that we needed for the girls. They had the field, but there was no place for anyone to sit, so we put in the bleachers there. The girls 34 also needed a baseball field. We became major donors for that. I knew that Red Butte Gardens couldn't continue to build gardens without building income. The amount that people would pay for admission was not enough to support the gardens. We needed something with big income, which was the concert center. So, we did that and we said, "We don't think it's right to have this be the Dumke musical whatever, it should be Red Butte Concert Center," and that is the name. ROH: I think a lot of people go to Red Butte to see that concert series. ZD: They get about 2500 people at a time. My sister wanted to do something out there and it took us a couple of years to get it going. They have an area that's very popular for people to get married, with the waterfall in the background and the rose garden. The only problem was there were no public bathrooms and they needed a place if it was windy or rainy where the brides could change their clothes. Also, if it rained, they needed to accommodate 100 people in a sheltered area. My sister donated about half of the cost for that. They hope to have it finished in May of 2012. However, my sister died so she won't be able to enjoy it. ROH: What is your inspiration for being so philanthropic and generous? ZD: My grandfather and his brothers worked with and uncle and built a railroad from Portland to Astoria and they had some financial and the Cory Brothers went broke. My grandfather and his brothers were on their own. They started the Utah Construction and needed some money, so they went to David Eccles, who involved the Dees and some of the others. He gave them funding for a half interest in the company in 1903. My grandfather, E.O. Wattis, ran the jobs and 35 his brother, W.H. Wattis, was president. They did well and by 1933, my grandfather was president of six companies building the Boulder Dam. He knew when he died, he didn't want to have his stock split up between his six surviving children so he set up a trust leaving the stock income to his children, but the stock to his grandchildren. That's been very helpful for me. I had to come up with stock for loans as Bullfrog was growing and I had some assets to work with. Originally, with my estate planning, inheritance taxes and children gift taxes would be high on the E.O. Wattis Trust. I had the right to say, "I don't want that," and I was able to pass my grandfather's grant down to my children after I die. They've already changed the law so we won't be able to do that again, but I already passed the residual down and I still have the income. The stock was such an advantage to me in having an asset to work with and one of the reasons I've been able to do other investments and donations. These benefits have been passed on down to me and my brothers, sisters and cousins. I had another aunt that died and had no children, so she wanted to do what her father did so she passed her estate on to the nine nieces and nephews. My father played football in high school and worked in harvesting and for a mining company in Butte. He went to see his brother in Denver who said, "You need to go on to college." He didn't have assets, but he was a very good football player and they got him a scholarship to the University of Denver. After that, he wanted to become a doctor and his coach called Northwestern and got him admitted on a scholarship. He was working and going to school and playing football and that was too much. He was going to have to drop out, but he had an 36 aunt who loaned him the funds to get through school. He felt very indebted to people who would do that. My father gave my grandparents all their medical needs and other care at no charge. The family wanted to repay him after they died. He wouldn't take cash, but let the E.O.Wattis family fund a trust fund to finance young doctors that were having financial problems like he had when he was going to Northwestern. If they were already in school and they had a critical situation come up, he would loan them the money to graduate. He financed 28 different doctors getting through their school. Only one did not repay their loan. When he died, he left all of those "I owe you's" and the money that had been accumulated to the University of Utah. They have a similar trust up there. In each case, all of these students had been supported by somebody that cared enough to make a loan. ROH: Your foundations have a lot of areas from which to choose. You mentioned that you get over a hundred solicitations in a year. When did you decide to continue giving to Weber State University? ZD: The family funded the Doctor Dumke Health Science Operation and continues to be interested in Weber. It was through the Doctor Foundation that we gave the endowment. I don't get the credit for that because I stepped down as president and my daughter, Claire, was president and she and recommended that we should do something meaningful. She said, "We can do it by making this endowment which is roughly three years of income to the Doctor Foundation." 37 She gets the credit, not me. Claire was president. We all voted for it, but it was Claire's recommendation. ROH: Were you included in that group. ZD: Yes, I was included. ROH: I have to say thank you very much. Is there anything else that you'd like to mention about your activities? ZD: Flying was always something important that I learned to do while I was in the Naval Aviation Program. It came in very handy when we got the concession on Lake Powell because I was more flexible with my insurance business and could fly back and forth, even before we had a road. I was always very interested in the state of Utah and the lay of the land and the scenic wonders. I used my airplane for a lot of exploring. One of the important things in our family was that every year we took camping trips. Instead of going to the mountains where there are mosquitos and all, we normally go down to the desert. There are very few people down there and we all love the desert and we explore all sorts of exciting places. As we see our children with their children, they are doing the same thing. They like the camping. They do it with a little more style than we used to. We used to go out and didn't even have a tent. I think we all really appreciated it and that came out of my parents. They love camping and did it with us and it has affected our lives. 38 ROH: You know that President F. Ann Milner is stepping down as president soon and I didn't know if you might have a message for her or a note to say on her behalf. ZD: She called me and I had a very nice long talk with her. ROH: Glad to hear that. Is there anything else that you'd like to say in wrapping up? ZD: My understanding was that when George Eccles died, his biggest asset was Utah International converted to General Electric stock. Mariner Eccles had been president of Utah Construction and his foundation was mostly General Electric. As you look around the community you see the Dee's, the Browning's, and the Eccle's. I think it's interesting to see the spread of that and very few people know how far that Utah International stock has gone in things that were done. The Kimball Arts center was General Electric stock that came down through Utah. A number of us that have done things, but we shouldn't really get the first credit. It came from our family and Utah stock. ROH: I appreciate that you have taken this time to visit and share your story and your family's history. We've all benefitted from your success in business and your generosity, so we wanted to thank you. ZD: I always feel fortunate that we can do it. While I've run some successful businesses, it's really gone back to the fact that I had assets to start with to make them grow. Had I not had assets to work with, it would have been a different story. So, I feel very grateful for the things that came before me and I want to help some of those that will come after me. ROH: Thank you so much for your time, Zeke. I really appreciate it. 39 ZD: Thank you.

Bernice C. Stromberg ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 40p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Bernice C. Stromberg Interviewed By Rebecca Ory Hernandez 3 October 2012 24 October 2012 i ii Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Bernice C. Stromberg Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 3 October 2012 24 October 2012 Copyright © 2013 by Weber State University, Stewart Library iii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in the University Archives, which also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Stromberg, Bernice C., an oral history by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, 3 and 24 October 2012, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. Bernice Stromberg October 24, 2012 1 Abstract: Bernice sat down with Rebecca Ory Hernandez in October of 2012 to share stories of growing up and moving several times with her family in Southern Utah. Her father was a well-respected music teacher. Bernice is the widow of Mr. C. William "Bill" Stromberg of Ogden, UT, who served on the founding Board of the Stewart Education Foundation. During this time, Bernice became very good friends with Elizabeth Stewart. Bernice is also a very good friend of former Weber State University President, F. Ann Milner. Since Bill's passing in 2010, Bernice has remained a regular attendee of many WSU events, especially football games. The Stromberg Complex is named in Bernice and Bill's honor. ROH: Today is Wednesday, October 3, 2012. We are in the home of Bernice Stromberg in Ogden, Utah. I am Rebecca Ory Hernandez with Weber State University and the Stewart Library. Why don't you tell me when and where you were born? BS: I was born in Kanab, in Kane County Utah, on January 12, 1927. My dad taught music in the high school down there. The day I was born, my dad and the doctor were going to go to a basketball game, but when dad got home from teaching, there was the doctor waiting for him. My mother was on her knees scrubbing her floor. Dad said, "We're going to the ball game." The doctor said, "Oh no, we're not. I've turned our tickets in. We're going to have a baby around here if I can get you to get your wife into bed." So Dad did. My dad had arranged for the neighbor to take the three older girls just to get them out of the way. I was the youngest in the family. He told my sisters as he dropped them off, "Now when you get home you're going to have a really nice 2 surprise. So you be good and when I get home I'm going to show you your surprise." When the girls came home, after I was born, they all cried and said, "I thought it was going to be a puppy or candy or ice cream or something. Not just a baby." I have always said, "It's good that I didn't know it then because I would have had my feelings hurt." ROH: How much distance is there between you and your sisters age-wise? BS: The one just older than me is Arlene and she is three years and three months. My oldest sister, Rachael, was seven years older. My next oldest sister was Lois and she was about five years older. ROH: So there were four girls total in your family? SB: Four girls, no brothers. When I got married, I didn't know boys teased like they do and I had a hard time dealing with some of these things that came up in our marriage because I didn't know how to respond. It was a wonderful life with a house full of girls. ROH: What was your maiden name? BS: Christensen. We did not live in Kanab terribly long because as happens in school nowadays and all time, what's the first thing they cut from schools? This was during the depression. ROH: Art and music? BS: Art, music and all of those things. They cut out the music department. Dad played the violin. He lost his job and couldn't get a job anywhere. Later in life, he 3 was in the first Utah Symphony Orchestra as the first violinist. It was a WPA Project. Reginald Beal was his director and Dad loved the Orchestra. It was a great time of his life. ROH: Where were your parents from? BS: They were from Moroni, Utah in Sanpete County. My ancestors came from Denmark. Most of the Scandinavian people settled in that part of Utah. That's where my parents were both born. I don't remember what year they came over from Denmark, but most of the family came. Mother and Dad went to high school there, from kindergarten to High School. They said it was a fun town. My sisters and I loved to go down there to visit. Grandma Christensen would let us go to the chicken coop and each gather one egg. We would take them to the grocery store and spend them or a bag of candy of our choice. Moroni is just East of Nephi, in the valley there. Dad finally bought a Model A Ford. It had no heater and no air conditioning. It took four hours in that Model A to go down Moroni to visit and we would come home the same night. We weren't real happy going down just because of the long ride. Mother would heat rocks or bricks in the oven and get blankets and coats to keep us warm and we four girls would sit across the back seat. We kept warm but we didn't like to stay so cooped up for that long. ROH: Did your mom work in the home or outside of the home as well? BS: She did work outside of the home. We were very poor after the Depression and we had no money. Many times we didn't know where the next meal was coming 4 from. I ate more bread and milk during that time than I would ever like to say because sometimes that's all we had. Mother would make bread because she had flour but we all liked it fixed differently. I liked mine hot with salt on it. My dad liked it cold with sugar on it. The rest of them just had their own way of having it too. It kept us alive and we got along just fine. My mother, bless her heart, made such a pleasant home. In the summertime for every meal, no matter what we had to eat, there was always a bouquet of flowers and a tablecloth on the table. She loved flowers and she grew a lot of them. We moved a lot during my life. I was teased quite often from my friends because of this. They'll say, "Name a town, Bernice lived there." ROH: Tell me some of the places you moved to that you can remember. BS: We moved to Richfield when we left Kanab. Dad did a number of jobs there to feed us. He sold the Deseret Newspaper and did anything he could find for work. I was only three when I lived there, but this time is the clearest part of my memory. I don't know how mother let us do some of the things we did. We had an irrigation ditch in front of our house and we had a wide canal in the back of the barn a little ways. The girls would go down to the canal and pick Potawatomi Plums to make jam. (They were named after some of the Indians in Southern Utah. When Bill and I moved to our home in Ogden, I found a tree just like them in my backyard. I said, "My word where did that come from up here?" They were really good). One day, I just thought, "I'm going to go with the girls down to the canal". We all were down there and I decided I wanted to go home, so I left by myself and decided to take a short cut. The field next to where we lived was all in 5 clover that was in blossom. I thought, "I'll just run fast through that field." By the time I got home I had literally hundreds of bee stings on my ankles and my feet. My feet were swollen and they really hurt. I did learn to never go through that part of the backyard again. We had a lot of fun experiences there and some not so fun ones. We had two dogs. One was a black and white spotted bird dog. The other was a curly haired white dog. I was so afraid of that white dog, because she would get hold of my coat in the cold weather and she would just shake her head as hard as she could and drag me all over the yard. I couldn't get away from her. The big dog was my companion for my nap. We would lie behind the coal stove and he'd lay his arm over my shoulder and we'd have a nice nap together. ROH: That's very sweet. BS: It was. I really slept so good back then. I remember that my mother made handmade soap. You have to use ashes for that, so she'd burn her trash out in our backyard and get the ashes from there. ROH: Did you have any other family around? BS: No. Before I was born there were places they lived that had some around. They lived in Bingham and they had an experience up there. Mother had Lois (my sister) sleeping in her crib in front of the window of the bedroom on the back side of the house. A huge rock dislodged and rolled down the mountain, through the window and into Lois' crib. My mother just knew she was gone, but she was up in 6 the corner of the crib and the big rock went in the rest of the bed. Lois was not touched at all. We felt that was a great miracle. We moved to Salt Lake from there when I was in kindergarten. The only thing I remember about kindergarten was that we had to take naps. We had to bring a blanket and a pillow. I would lay mine down and this little boy in my class named Danny would wait until I lay down and he'd bring his blanket and lie down right next to me. It irritated me to no end. I would get up and move somewhere else and he would too. He was determined to take his nap next to me. That's all I remember about kindergarten. ROH: You don't remember learning to read and write, just remember that. BS: We didn't learn to read and write until the first grade. ROH: Oh you didn't? BS: Kindergarten was more of a social learning and how to share with the other children. It was learning how to get along with other children and it was a playtime. The teacher would read stories to us, but we didn't have reading or writing. We'd color and things like that, but we didn't have any kind of instruction while we were there. ROH: That must have been fun. BS: It was. About this time Dad heard that California had all the jobs, so we up and went to California. ROH: What part of California? 7 BS: Oakland. Dad and Mother both tried to find work there. ROH: What year is this? BS: I was five so about 1931. I don't remember much about California because we weren't there long enough. We rented the basement of a big home. I have no idea what they paid for it, but I know the lady gave it to them for almost nothing. My mother and dad even got down to the point where they were selling toothpaste door-to-door to earn enough money to feed us. I remember we had sub for Santa that year. Someone brought in all of these boxes for our Christmas. It didn't bother us. Everybody was in the same situation. The only thing is my mother thought I had measles, come to find out it was fleas. We had fleas in the beds so bad that mother had to take the bedding outside to shake them and wash them often. I was allergic to the flea bites and I was covered from head to toe. That's why she thought I had measles. They itched. Oh my gosh, I thought I'd die during that time. We used to go out in the desert and get turtles. We loved the desert turtles. They are very calm. Dad would drill a hole through the back of their shell and chain them to a post in the ground so they wouldn't run away. It wasn't harmful and it didn't hurt them. We fed them religiously, particularly the outside leaves of the lettuce and what food we didn't eat. It was a fun time there. We looked forward to Christmas, because that is the only time in the year that we got an orange. Oh, I looked forward to that one orange we would get. 8 ROH: What were some of the things you would eat when they did have a little bit of money? BS: We would eat vegetables. Mother would usually plant a garden. We would have a little bit of meat. Some of the neighbors that had cows would bring us over some milk. Fruit was too expensive. We just couldn't buy fruit, except to can for the coming winter. ROH: Except for those plums. BS: Yes. While living in Oakland, my sister, Arlene, had an assignment in her school class to draw a picture with snow in it. None of the kids had really seen snow because it wasn't cold enough. Arlene drew a picture and the ground was all black and the snowflakes were black. The teacher said, "I thought snow was white." She said, "Well, you've never seen Salt Lake snow then." Everybody in Utah used coal stoves to heat their houses, so it would be absolutely black in a day or two from the soot and smoke of burning coal. Arlene thought the snow was black. It makes sense. ROH: It does to a child. BS: Soon, California announced that they would pay the train fare for anyone that would go back to their home state. We decided we'd take advantage of it because we were worse off there than we were at home. So, we went back home and when we got there, I broke out in red measles. ROH: Were you the only one out of the four girls that caught it? 9 BS: Yes. I also had pneumonia with them. We had no place to go when we got to Utah, so my aunt took us in. We'd sleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. I would open my eyes when we'd lie down there and see these spinning things all over the fireplace. Of course, I was hallucinating from the fever. We lived with my aunt until we found a place on 5th East and 4th South. It was just one room above a business. It had no refrigeration and no air conditioning. It had nothing in it but beds for us to sleep on. You had to go down the hall to use the bathroom. I was still very sick when we moved in. They had the doctor come out again and he told mother, "That child has to have milk, or I'm not sure she's going to make it." Mother said, "I can't afford milk." He said, "Use canned milk and dilute it." We had no place to keep it cold if I didn't drink the whole thing in one day. It was always warm. That was the worst thing I ever drank. I don't like canned milk to this day. I use it for cooking, but I don't like it. ROH: Was your dad able to find a teaching job in Salt Lake? BS: Not at first. He was still struggling to find one. He decided he was going to open a printing shop. He would print and help distribute things. The business did not make much more money. We were still struggling. We finally found a little house in back of a larger house. I remember while we were there that if we were naughty, Dad would say, "You need your legs switched." But he wouldn't go out and cut the switches. We had to go out and cut our own switches. We would try to find the thinnest switches we could find. But we soon found out that they would 10 sting worse than the thicker ones. We straightened up pretty fast with that. It did not happen very often after that. ROH: I would imagine. Let's take you back to Salt Lake. Were you in school in Salt Lake after you got well from the measles? BS: Yes. We came back to Salt Lake City before I finished first grade. I went to the Liberty School there in Salt Lake. I remember only three of my teachers in school and that's all. In the first grade, her name was Ms. Anderson. My fourth grade teacher was Ms. Morgan. In the sixth grade, I had Ms. Jensen. In those times, a married woman could not teach school. I had a lot of girlfriends during my school years. After we graduated, 2 of them moved to the Ogden/Weber County area. It was great to renew our friendships. ROH: At what point did you move to Ogden? BS: We moved to Clearfield when my dad finally found a good job at Hill Field. My mother was working at the Ogden Arsenal. I also worked at the Ogden Arsenal between my junior and senior year of high school. I worked for a captain as a stenographer. His name was Captain Haugh. He said, "As soon as you graduate next year, come back and I'll hold your job for you." And he did. I had to report back to work on the last day of school. I checked with the Principal and he said that if I did not attend that last day, I could not graduate. I went to work that last day and when I went to graduation no one said anything about it and I graduated with the rest of the class. 11 ROH: Which high school did you attend? BS: I attended South High School in Salt Lake. ROH: Where were you in junior high? BS: In junior high I was at Lincoln. During the time I was in junior high we only went to junior high for two years. 7th grade was half a year and 8th grade was half a year. This meant that we only went to school a total of 11 years, so I graduated at 17 years old. ROH: Were you in Salt Lake for a long time? BS: I was in Salt Lake City all through my school years, until I came up to Clearfield to work. I was the only one at home by the time we moved to Clearfield, my sisters were all married. They all married within four months of each other. ROH: Wow. Your mom was busy. BS: She was busy. I think it's easier if you have them close together. I had Louise and Connie get married one in January and one in August. That was harder to do because we were out of the mood, having them all together is almost easier. ROH: Were you involved in helping your sisters with their wedding decorations? BS: Oh yes. And we all wore the same wedding gown. My mother made my oldest sister's wedding gown and we all wore the same one. We couldn't afford more than one. ROH: Do you have pictures of everyone in the same gown? 12 BS: No. I have a picture of mine and Rachael had hers. The other two didn't have a reception so there were no pictures. Unfortunately, the dress couldn't be worn to the temple, but it was fun for us all to wear the same one. ROH: Do you still have the gown? BS: No, my oldest sister had it and I don't know where it is now. She passed away a year ago. ROH: I hope she kept it in the family. BS: I'm sure it is. I think her daughter, Susan, may have taken it. ROH: That's a special gown if four girls got married in the same dress. You touched a little bit about the fact that the Depression was going on. Do you have any memories of the Depression other than not having food to eat? The further we get away from it, the more people seem to forget that it was real. BS: It was very real. We were all aware of it. I don't remember a whole lot as I was young when it began. When World War II started, gas was rationed, shoes were rationed, food was rationed, and meat was rationed. You couldn't get butter, you had to use margarine. It came white and had a yellow pill in it. You'd break that pill and knead it in the plastic bag until it was yellow. They couldn't sell it yellow. Sugar was rationed. We had food stamps for all of this. We were still feeling the effects of the Depression and when the war started it got even worse. I remember the day they announced the war on Sunday, December 7th. In Salt Lake at that time, the newspaper would send out a special edition 13 newspaper and the newsboys would go up and down all of the streets in Salt Lake saying, "Extra, extra! Read all about it," trying to sell newspapers. They said, "The Japanese have attacked the United States in Hawaii." I was just getting ready to go to Sunday school and that's the way I heard it. After the World War II started, we still had to watch pennies. ROH: Were your older sisters working? BS: Yes, they all started working when they graduated from high school. My oldest sister, Rachael, went on a mission for our church to New York. The rest of us worked during this time. Arlene tried to go to the University of Utah. She graduated from high school when she was sixteen. She just could not seem to fit in with all the people at the University, because they were older than she was, so she got a job. I went to work during my senior year of high school. ROH: How did you get that job? BS: Well, because of the war the men were all gone, so all the women had to take on the jobs that the men weren't here to do. I was very fortunate. I got a job at Deseret Book typing school orders for the Salt Lake schools. ROH: Was that being done at Hill Field? BS: No, I never worked at Hill Field; I worked at the Ogden Arsenal. Let me get back to that in a minute. You asked me how I moved to Clearfield. We decided that as long as all three of us, Mom, Dad and I, were working up here in this part of the state, we might as well move up here, rather than make that drive every day. So, 14 the family moved to Clearfield. We lived right there next to the Ogden Arsenal. It was closer to work. ROH: Was there a train at that time? BS: The Bamberger. Only the older people know about the Bamberger, at least the younger generation doesn't. How can that be? ROH: Everybody talks to me about Bamberger. That Bamberger was very important. BS: When Bill and I were dating, we had to date by riding the Bamberger. He was in Ogden and I was in Clearfield. We didn't have a car, and he couldn't get any gas because it was rationed. He got 15 gallons of gas a week to go to work and he could have two gallons of gas for pleasure. Gas was a lot cheaper then, it was only about 18 cents a gallon. ROH: It still didn't get you that far. BS: Exactly, we didn't have the gas. I had money to buy gas, but gas was not available to buy. ROH: So your job was at Deseret Book? BS: Yes, I worked at Deseret Book in Salt Lake and I'd go in at 1:00 p.m. and I'd work until 6:00 p.m. President McKay, before he was President of the LDS Church, spent so much time in the Deseret Book, and I got well-acquainted with him. In fact, he married Bill and me. He was also my mother and dad's friend and we, Bill and I, visited his office and asked him to perform our ceremony. 15 ROH: Today is Wednesday, October 24, 2012. We are in the home of Bernice Stromberg in Ogden, Utah. Present are Bernice and Rebecca Ory Hernandez from Weber State. Before I turned on the recorder you said there were a couple of things that we didn't talk about last time. Why don't you go ahead and tell me a little bit about your mom? BS: When I was in grade school, mother finally decided she would certainly like a washing machine. We had been using the scrub board. She said, "I'm going to go to work so I can buy a washing machine." She worked for a dress factory and her job was sewing sleeves on dresses all day long for 10 cents an hour. She was such a beautiful seamstress. She went on later to work for Ehlers Drapery Company. She made band uniforms and the heavy velvet stage curtains for schools and churches. I don't know how she did it because she was just a little bitty lady. ROH: Drapes like what you would see at an auditorium or a stage? BS: Yes. When I was a junior in high school, she quit work. That was the most delightful thing I had happen in my life because it was so nice to come home from school with my mother there. The house was warm and smelled good because she had been baking and cooking. It was such a wonderful feeling to have mother there when I got home. I was the youngest, so I was the first home all the time. Another thing I hated about coming home and being alone when I came home school, was the fact that we only had a coal stove in the kitchen that we cooked on and a Franklin pot belly stove in the living room for heat. Since I 16 was the first one home, I had to build all the fires in the stoves. I did this from the time I was probably eight years old. (When Bill and I were married, he couldn't even build a fire in a fireplace. I'd have to build the fire in the fireplace because he couldn't get it to start—even though he had been a boy scout). My high school years were not the most fun time in my life. I loved school, but there was just too much drama going on and people hurting one another's feelings. In my year book, one of the girls wrote, "Bernice, I really would have liked to get to know you better, but you were always so stuck up." I was not stuck up, I was very shy. I was totally afraid of strangers and other things. I was so shy that I would hold myself back and she thought I was just avoiding them all. Had I known, I might have done things differently. ROH: You graduated, but you didn't walk? BS: Yes, I graduated and I did walk. Education has always been so important to Bill and me. Neither of us had the opportunity to go to college. As I mentioned before, we were very poor and going through the Depression. There was no money. I could go to work, but I couldn't earn enough to pay tuition. Mother and Dad couldn't work more than they already were, so I was unable to go to college. Bill tried to get in the service, but they wouldn't take him because of football injuries he'd had in high school. ROH: Where did Bill go to high school? BS: Ogden High. 17 ROH: Let's talk a little bit about Bill's background as far as you are aware. Where did he grow up? BS: He was born and raised in Salt Lake until he was nine when his dad moved to Ogden because he got a better job there. ROH: What was his dad doing? BS: At that time, he worked as a grocery salesman. He'd go around to the stores and get all the food orders. He had all of Utah, part of Southern Idaho, and part of Wyoming as his district. He would write up all the orders and turn them into the grocery chain. ROH: Does the grocery chain still exist? BS: They're gone now. The building is still there on Wall Avenue with the name on it, Utah Wholesale Grocery. Bill grew up in Ogden and graduated from Ogden High School. He played football and that was very important to him. ROH: What position did he play? BS: Tight end. He played both offense and defense back then. His school took region the year he graduated. After graduation he went to California to the Curtis Wright Air Technical School and learned to be an airplane overhaul mechanic. He liked mechanics, so he went there by himself. He had a buddy that was going with him, but he decided not to go. Bill told him, "I don't care. I'm going anyway." He went and when he came back he was 18 and went immediately to work for Hill Field. 18 ROH: What was Bill's date of birth? BS: It was the 28th of February, 1925. He worked at Hill Field and loved what he was doing. We got married on August 29, 1945. I was still working at the Ogden Arsenal. I was eighteen and he was twenty. He lost his job three weeks after we got married. They were laying people off at the Base and if you didn't have military experience, you were the first to go. He was one of the first to go. I said, "I'm not sure this is quite fair, I go to work every day and you stay home." He got another job at the Navy base which was located where Freeport Center is now. He worked there for three years and then Hill started hiring and hired him again. He had been a warehouse man at the Navy base and when he went back to Hill, he qualified for a desk job rather than mechanics. Before he retired from Hill Air Force Base, he was the Branch Chief for the Material Management Department. He had been able to work himself up. ROH: When did he retire? BS: He retired in 1977. He was 52 years old. He called me one day from work and he said, "I've got a chance to retire Bernice, what should I do?" I asked, "Well, how is it going to affect our income?" He said, "It won't affect it a bit." They wanted to release one of the highest paid positions. So when they came back to him, he said, "Okay, I'm letting go of myself." They said, "You can't do that." He said, "Yes I can." They said, "We'll transfer you." He said, "You can't. That's an adverse action." So, he retired. 19 He had a lot of things he was interested in doing after that. He went into land development and timeshare. It was a blessing in disguise. I didn't work terribly long after we were married. I stayed home and became a housewife. We couldn't have children right away and didn't have Christine until 1947. My neighbor once came to see me and said, "Bernice, I need to talk to you." I said, "Okay, what do you need?" She said, "You know how when girls get married and they have babies right soon everybody talks about them? Everybody at church now is talking about you and Bill and why you're not having children." I said, "I wish I knew why we weren't having them. I don't know." We really did want children, so after a year or so I went to my doctor and he said, "You'll never have any children." I had a growth that had totally filled the uterus. He took that out I got pregnant right away and have had six children. ROH: You had many children. BS: It was a great thing. ROH: How did you meet Bill? BS: A girl that worked in the same office with me and I became very good friends. One day she said to me, "There are two really good looking guys that go to Mutual. Come with me" I said, "Okay." It was Bill and Glen Robertson. Bill asked me on a date. The way we had to date was even funnier because gas rationing was still on. I lived in Clearfield and he lived in Ogden. The Bamberger was still running 20 and it would run to Ogden. The only stop close to where I lived was at the West gate of Hill Field and the Ogden Arsenal in Clearfield. I would take the train to Ogden and we'd go on our date. Bill would pick me up at the station and then take me back to the station after the date. I would then take the train back and then I'd have to walk on the highway to my house. I lived in a housing development down the street. When I think back on it now, that was a dangerous thing to do because sometimes it would be 10:00 or 11:00 at night and it was always after dark. But it was a different time then entirely. Telephone calls were ten cents each and ten cents was a lot of money then. We had to really plan our dating so that we could use the train for transportation and not have to use the phone to make plans. ROH: Where did you like to go when you did go out on dates? BS: We would go to movies, go for long walks, get ice cream cones, or we danced often at White City Ballroom. There was a hamburger place down on Grant Ave and everybody went there. It was open for years and they were the best hamburgers in Ogden. The place was run by a husband and wife. When they gave it up their children didn't want it. They helped for a while and then they didn't want it, so they sold it. It was a block west of Washington on Grant Ave. Of course, things have changed so much since then. ROH: Where did you get married? BS: We got married in Salt Lake at the LDS Temple. 21 ROH: Where was your first home? BS: It was a duplex on the corner of 29th Street and Jackson. ROH: Is it still there? BS: Yes. We had no furniture or anything, but we were stable. I said, "You know it is amazing what you could do without." We were as poor then as I had been all my life. He hadn't had to do without so he was not use to it. We bought a little wooden table and chairs for the kitchen. His mother gave us a hide-a-bed couch. I had a rocking chair that my mother gave us and we bought a bedroom set. Later on, we were able to buy a washer and dryer. Sometimes we would have no more than ten cents, after paying the bills and buying food, and we would walk up to Harrison Blvd.to Judy's Ice Cream Store and we'd each buy an ice cream cone with that dime. We were broke. We both worked the first year and our annual income was 2500 dollars. That's what we lived on and that's what we bought the furniture with. A Grocery Store was just kitty-corner from where we lived. We had a big garden and we would sell a bushel of tomatoes to that store. They were always glad to get homegrown produce like that. Food was cheap back then. Lettuce was 5 cents, bread 10 cents and hamburger was 25 cents a pound. ROH: Did everyone have a garden at that time? BS: Yes. During World War II, they asked everybody to have a victory garden. Everybody who had a place where they could plant a garden did. I loved my 22 garden. I even planted some veggies out here this last year. I wanted some tomatoes, zucchini and cucumbers so I had one little spot where I took out roses and put in veggies. We really had a wonderful life. He brought home $64 everyday two weeks. We had to pay rent, buy groceries and we had to pay all our utilities, but we never went into debt. It's just amazing what you could do that back then. When we were first married, Bill had a yellow convertible. Later on, He sold that car and we bought a lot next door to Bill's parents on Mount Ogden Drive for 500 dollars. We built a house on it. It was a nice home. Our lot was large and went through the whole block. Years later, we sold the bottom half to a younger couple and they built a house on the bottom half of the lot. Soon all of the property owners did that. ROH: When you were home alone before you had children, how did you fill your time? BS: I started out right away working in my church and with young women. I was 18 years old and I taught girls that were 17 years old. I did lot of things with them. I also started doing genealogy work. I worked periodically. I worked as a ward clerk at the old Thomas Dee Hospital and I volunteered a few years in the McKay Dee Hospital. I told Elizabeth Stewart once, "I want to volunteer." They had come in with a grandmother program at the McKay Hospital where older women would go into the nursery to feed the preemie babies. Elizabeth said, "I'd like to go with you but I wonder if they'd let me not ever having any children". We went over and they said, "You bet." We would go over once a week and feed these teeny tiny 23 babies. She absolutely loved it. They have done away with the program now. I don't know why. One day, I had a little colored baby. He was so cute. His name was Maurice. I fed him, held him, and talked to him. He just grinned. I said, "You can't grin." He didn't weigh five pounds yet and he was 3 months old by that time and he could grin. I thought, "You're too little to smile." That was a great time in my life. I had plenty of things that I could do. ROH: Tell me about your children. BS: Christine was born in 1947. She was not a happy baby. She cried night and day for seven months and we'd take turns sleeping. I would sleep a few hours and Bill would sleep a few hours. But she was a beautiful baby. She wasn't even red or anything. She had such fair skin and looked like she was two or three months old when she was born. She got her first teeth at two months. She has taught school. She graduated from Ogden High Schools and Weber State University. She earned both a Bachelor's and Master's Degree. She married Travis D. Crowther. We encouraged all of our children go to college because we felt it was very important. She received a "normal scholarship" in the education department. You had to teach in Ogden schools for one year if you accepted that scholarship. It covered the tuition. She went through college and always said, "I really want to be a college bum. I would like to go to college all my life and never quit." She's done that and gone into so many things. She taught anything from second grade to sixth grade. They wanted her to go into high school teaching, but she said, "I don't want to because if kids don't get a good foundation in elementary school, they have too much trouble in junior high and high school." She's retired now. 24 ROH: She's not still going to school? BS: No. Both she and Travis are retired and they want to travel and be with their grandchildren Richard was our second child born in 1949. He was a good baby and a good child. But he's now so full of, I do not know what. He's always teasing. Sometimes I wonder about him. He went to Weber State University too, for computer science. When he got his master's degree, he went into mathematics. He decided mathematics would do him more good in what he'd probably end up doing. So he got his master's in mathematics and went to work for Phillips Oil. He works at Northrop Grumman as an engineer in missiles now. Richard had a hard start in school. In the first grade, I was very worried about him. He would go to school, but I knew he wasn't learning to read or the other things he should be learning. I would call the teacher and go to all the parent teacher conferences and she would say, "He's just doing fine." At the end of the school year, that teacher said, "You might just as well forget that boy. He's never going to learn anything." I said, "You've been telling me all year he was doing fine." She said, "Well he isn't. He's not smart enough to learn." I found out later that he had spent the entire first grade on a chair in the closet or out in the hall. She didn't like him and she didn't want to be bothered with him. I went to the principal and that teacher was transferred the next year. I was not the only parent that had problems with her. So Richard had a hard time trying to catch up. When he was in the fourth grade he had a marvelous teacher, May DeLange. She called me on the phone and said, "Bernice, will you have Richard do his oral reading at home 25 and I'll have him do the silent reading at school. They all make so much fun of him and call him Bucky Beaver." You see, his front teeth stuck out so far that he could not pronounce some letters. He could not have his teeth fixed until he was 11 years old. He really developed quite an inferiority complex, which you wouldn't know nowadays. Through high school he still had problems. Every time they had a parent teacher conference I'd get a letter that said, "You need to bring Richard in. He's failing in school." I made an appointment and went over to discuss this with his teacher. He told me that he gets an A on every exam, but he never hands in one page of homework. You get that many zero's, the A's can't cover it. I asked him, "Why? I know you do your homework because we all sat at the table and you did it." He said, "I know. It's in my locker." I said, "Why didn't you turn it in?" He said, "Because I think it's about time they grade you on what you know and not what you do." When he graduated from college, he did some graduate student teaching at BYU. I asked him one day, "Do you require your students to hand in their homework." He said, "Well, of course, how can I watch and follow their progress?" I said, "My how things have changed since you went to high school." He graduated from Weber State University and received his Master's from Utah State University. He married Pamela Day Cook. Third was Louise, born in 1951. She was so timid that many the kids bullied her. She'd go down to wait for the school bus but she wouldn't get on the bus, she'd walk back home. I didn't always have a car to take her to school because we only owned one car and Bill had to take it to work. She had to wear glasses in the first grade and that bothered her too. She was such a smart girl. 26 She attended Weber State University for her Associate degree in Nursing. She went on and finished her Bachelor's and Master's Degrees. She is now just finishing her Doctorate Degree. She teaches nursing at Weber State. At this time, she has passed her doctoral exam and only has her dissertation to do in her doctorate of nursing education. She is married to Michael Salmond. She has four children—two sets of twins. Fourth, came Connie and she was something else. She was born in 1954 and she was so anxious to be born that I almost did not make it to the hospital. She was so effervescent that she couldn't sit still to eat her dinner. She would be on a chair, off a chair, up and down and around the chair. I'd say, "Just sit on your chair." She'd say, "I can't, Mom. I just can't." She would walk to school down to the bus with Louise who just prodded along, and Connie would dance around her and the other kids at least six times before they got to the bus. She did well with school and did well with friends. When she was in third grade and I went to parent teacher conference the teacher said, "That child is the most effervescent child I have ever had in school." I said, "Yes I know she is. I'll talk to her and see what we can do." Mrs. Brown said, "Don't you dare. Can't you imagine how wonderful life would be to be that happy? She does her work and she doesn't bother any of the other kids." She's still that way. She attended to Weber State University, for only one a year. She took all of the business classes and she's since been the head secretary in the Cook Elementary School where all her children went to school. So that worked out fine. She married Stanley W. Sims and they have four children. 27 Douglas was our fifth child, and he was as bad as Connie was and couldn't sit still very long. He loved to be alone and he loved to be home. He could not sit still in school. I told the teacher, "I'll talk to him and see what I can do." She said, "Don't do it. I can teach him on his feet as well as I can teach him on his seat. He never bothers anyone. He just walks around the room and comes back and sits in his chair." I thought, "Oh, what a marvelous teacher." President Thompson used to call him the renegade because he's the only one that didn't go to Weber State. He went to BYU because he had a full ride scholarship in football. He received his Bachelor's and Master's from BYU and then went to Hanuman Medical University in Philadelphia for a Master's of Physical Therapy. He now works in physical therapy at Logan Regional Hospital. He married Maren Smith. Then there's Curtis. He was the best baby and little boy we ever had. We'd take him to the grocery store and he'd get in front of the cereal shelves and just look at things. He'd put his hands behind his back and never touched a thing. We'd do all our shopping and go back and he would still be looking at the cereal. I remember getting in the car one day to go home and said to Bill, "Oh, I think we left Curtis in the store." He did well in school. He's principal now at the Kaysville Junior High School. Most of our children went into education. ROH: Did they all go to the same school growing up? BS: They all went to Ogden High School. Christine, Richard and Curtis got their master's degrees from Utah State. Louise did hers online. She got her Master's 28 through Phoenix and her Doctorate through North Central in Phoenix. She said, "I'll graduate in May, 2014 and I expect you to go to Phoenix. I'm going to walk. I put enough into this that I'm going to walk, so I guess I have to go to Phoenix with her." They've all been good kids and have good jobs. ROH: What were some of the family traditions you had with the kids? BS: Well, Bill was traveling so much, so we took one big vacation a year with all the children. But I went alone with Bill a lot of times when he went on TDY. The grandmothers were always thrilled to take all those children for a time like that. Sometimes they'd divide the week. My mother and dad lived in Salt Lake and Bill's mother and dad lived on the other side of the Weber State campus on Mt. Ogden drive. ROH: Where did you travel to when you took vacations? BS: We went where he had to go work. We would go to Las Vegas and Disneyland every year since it opened, when our children were at home. He'd often have to go down to California and we would rent a house on the beach or close to it and take all the children. You would think we were nomads because we had the play pen, the high chair, and everything on top of the car and all the kids and suitcases inside the car. He had to go to several places in California and when he became branch chief of the material management department he had to visit every air base, even the ones overseas. For three years he was gone 70 percent of each year before he got his technicians trained to do it. He said to me at that time, "Bernice, you've 29 stayed home and raised our children, when I retire I'm going to take you to Europe and to every country I went to." And he did, except for Trippoli. Cadaffe had already taken that country and that air base was closed. ROH: What was that like? BS: It was wonderful. On one trip we visited ten countries—Italy, Germany, Austria, France, Netherlands, and so many around there. We took Don and Elizabeth Stewart with us and my sister and her husband. It was a wonderful trip. We also went to England a couple of times and went to Israel, Egypt, and many other places. ROH: On the same trip or a different? BS: No, it was at different times. Elizabeth wanted to go do some genealogy in England and Scotland, so we went there one time. When I think about all the trips, they were wonderful experiences. We later bought a condo in Indian Wells, California down in the Palm Springs area and we built a cabin up at Baer Lake. We also traveled a lot with the children. Yellowstone was one of the favorite places as a family. ROH: Tell me a little bit about Elizabeth Stewart because you were friends with her and her name is on the library. I like to ask people to tell me a little bit about her. BS: She lived just two doors up the street from us on College Drive. Bill was Bishop then and we got to know her well through the ward. We traveled a lot with them in their big bus. She became one of my best friends. We confided in each other. 30 One thing I remember so well is when she got irritated with Don somehow. All of a sudden the doorbell rang and here's Elizabeth. She got in her car and drove down to my house, past only one house, into my driveway and came in just fuming. I can't even remember what it was, but she was so irritated with him, so we sat and talked. Then all of a sudden she said, "I think I can go home now Bernice." So she got in her car and drove past the one house again and up into her house. She and I did so many things together and I remember once she was over and I was complaining about my children not doing what they were supposed to be doing. She took me by the shoulders and looked me right in the eye and said, "Bernice, I would give everything I own to have your children." We were good for each other because we could say things and the other would never get angry or upset; we'd just take it with a grain of salt. She was one of the most generous people I have ever met. She loved children. Our children called her Grandma Elizabeth. She was also known as the cookie Grandma. She tried to teach me piano lessons, but I didn't do too well. My dad was a violinist and he was in the first Utah Symphony Orchestra. One day I said, "Dad, I want to learn to play." (Richard did and he played in the youth city orchestra, but when he got to high school and played football he would not carry that violin to school). I did my best, but I don't hear music very well. One day after we finished the lesson my dad said, "You know, Bernice, I think you 31 ought to choose another instrument to play." It was the same with piano, I could not do it well. ROH: Just not your instrument. The piano wasn't either? BS: No. You can see why I didn't do much outside of the home with all the children home and no husband most of the time. When all of the children graduated from high school and were working and such, Curtis was the only one that was still home and Grandpa Stromberg was living with us as well. I also had my mother with us for 8 years and him for 20 years. Then Curtis had a friend that went on mission and his mother had cancer. He knew she wouldn't live until he got home from his mission. When he did get home his mother had passed away and his dad had remarried and moved into a trailer home. The new wife had a teenage daughter and his dad just looked at him and said, "I'm sorry Greg, you're going to have to find another place to live because I don't have room for you anymore." Greg tried living with his sister, but she and her husband were newly married and it just didn't work. He was going to Weber State and he asked Curtis, "Do you think your mom and dad would let me live with them while I go to school." Curtis said, "I'm sure they would." So we took in Greg. Then, we took in Debbie who wasn't a member of our church but she wanted to join so badly. She and her mother lived here in Ogden in the East Ridge apartments in a one bedroom unit with her live-in boyfriend. Debbie was sleeping on the couch. She came to live with us and eventually joined the church. 32 She lived with us for a long time. I still call her my bonus child. We had both of them for a while. When Greg finished school and went back down to Centerville. We had a swimming pool in our back yard and Curtis and Annette wanted their little girl to learn to swim. They brought Kari Sue up to teach her to swim in our swimming pool. Kari Sue was not a happy girl and she finally said, "Can I come live with you?" I said, "As long as your parents give you permission." That was always the one criterion with all the kids that lived with us. Her parents came up and visited with us and they said they thought it would be a good thing. She later went to Seattle for a better job. Then there was Michael, who had dated Debbie and wanted to come and live with us. By this time Debbie had dated and had been engaged to another young man. One week before the wedding was to be he said, "I don't want to get married." We had to give all the things back and I had made her wedding dress and everything. She was lost and I said, "Would you like to go on a mission?" She said, "Yes." So we sent her on a mission down to Costa Rica. She was such a spoiled child because she was an only child. I said, "You know, you're never going to make it down there with all the bugs and the forest and all of that. I'm just not sure you're going to make it." She told me later, "Bernice, every time I felt like coming home, I thought, no way I am not going to give you the chance to say I told you so." She stayed her full time. She spent some time in the hospital because she caught some of the bad bugs. 33 After Bill's mother died, Grandpa Stromberg came to live with us. He was pretty good for quite a few years, but then I had to watch him every minute because he'd wander. Later, my Ddd passed away and my mother was living alone, but I was afraid of her falling so we took her in as well. Counting the seven years that I took care of Bill, it had been 35 years that I was taking care of elderly people or teenagers in my home. I loved every minute of it. I really did. Bill's dad was the sweetest man I've ever met. I always called him my spiritual giant. ROH: What was his name? BS: Verner Lorenzo Stromberg. His parents came over from Sweden with one sister and two brothers. One baby died and they buried him at sea. Verner was born here. One day, his dad didn't come in from the fields, he was 35 years of age and they found him dead out in the field. His mother and grandmother were living here too and they didn't even speak English. It was kind of a hard time for them. My ancestors came from Denmark. I'm a pure Dane. Bill and I really had a wonderful life. We were always together. Everything we did, we did together or with the family. Did you want me to talk about Weber State? ROH: Yes, I was going to ask you how you became so generous with your time with Weber State. BS: It was a pleasure. I love the people there and the people that work there. John Johnson, the athletic director, I just felt like he was my own. He wasn't married when he was here and he'd come over to our home and sit in the big chair in 34 front of the fire place and say, "I absolutely love to just come over here and sit and talk with you and Bill." Bill was involved first, other than our involvement with the children going to Weber State. I did take one class there in home decorating. When Elizabeth and Don Stewart became sick and needed to have some more on their board, they asked Dean Hurst, Jack Lampros and Bill if they would serve on the board. ROH: How did Bill meet Elizabeth? BS: He was her Bishop at that time and she lived two doors up the street from us. ROH: Okay, so that's how they met originally? BS: Yes. Well, we knew them before that because we lived so close to them. She was the most generous person I've ever met in my whole life. A lot of people tried to take advantage of her. She'd get 15 to 20 letters in the mail asking for money. ROH: From random people in town? BS: Yes. They'd say, "I'm a friend of so-and-so who's the friend of…" and on and on. She said, "Well, I can't give it to you. We are a 501c3 charity organization and we cannot give to just an individual. It has to be charitable organization." That would cut most of them off. ROH: You're not the first person to say that to me. The first time I heard it I was surprised. Now, I'm surprised to continue to hear it. 35 BS: They knew she had money and wanted some of it. I had Don and Elizabeth over for Sunday dinner for 30 years, except holidays when they would go to Carol and Dean Hurst's. My mother was living with us at this time and would always make pies for dinner. She was the best pie maker in the world. When Don came to my mom's funeral he said, "Bernice, who's going to make our pies now?" I said, "Probably me." ROH: Do you? BS: Oh yes, I've made pies for a long time. ROH: So she taught you how to make pastry and pies? BS: Yes, Danish pastries and Danish foods, which I love. A Danish soup called hot soup. It's made with raisins, prunes, sliced lemon, cinnamon sticks, and tapioca. It's all boiled together and all those flavors blend. Oh, I did love that soup and so did Bill's dad because it was also a soup they had in Sweden. I finally found a recipe for it. My niece took all of mother's recipes when she passed away and I didn't get some of them that I wanted. My children and Bill hated the soup. It was so good though, I couldn't imagine them not liking it. Another quick thing about Elizabeth, she was known as the cookie grandma of the neighborhood. She always made cookies and the kids would go to her house or mine after school. I would always have hot bread and peanut butter and honey. One day, Douglas came home when he was about five and said, "You know what, Mom, I'm going to marry Elizabeth." I said, "Hun, she is already married to Don." He said, "I don't care. I'm going to marry Elizabeth." He 36 just kept telling her that and we just laughed about it. When he got engaged to be married, he came home from the "Y" and said, "I've got to go talk to Elizabeth." I said, "Okay, what do you have to talk to her about?" He said, "I'll tell you when I come home." He went up there with his bride-to-be, and asked her permission to marry Maren. She gave him and Maren her permission and blessing. ROH: That's so sweet. BS: It was just a sweet, sweet thing. ROH: That's adorable. How did you start to get involved with Weber State? BS: I always went with Bill. I was always with him because they invited us to everything and that's how I got to know Presidents Ann Milner, Paul Thompson, Steve Nadauld, President Bishop and Bill Miller. So you can see how far back we go with people from the university. I just tagged along with Bill. ROH: I've talked with the Miller Sisters. BS: Their mother, Mary, and I were so close and every time I'd see her she'd say, "Bernice, remember you're talking at my funeral. I've told the girls that you're going to be the speaker at my funeral." I just fluffed it off and she lived a lot of years after that. When she passed away Donna called me and said, "Bernice, I've got a question to ask you. "Would you mind if we girls talk at mother's funeral? We think that would be nice, but I know mom always said you were to be the speaker. I wanted to clear it with you before we did anything about it." I said, "Oh you sweet girl. I always expected you to." That family was a very 37 special family. It wasn't until Bill passed away that I was asked to be on the Stewart Foundation board. That's when I got a little more involved myself. I knew everybody so I felt like I was part of them already. ROH: Like part of the family. BS: Right. It's a great experience. That's why when they called me recently on the MS thing she said, "We'd like to know what you've done in the community." I said, "Shelly, I haven't really done a whole lot in the community." Bill and I liked the weight training building and they needed to make it bigger and get all new equipment and so Bill and I did that. I always think about what Jack said one day when they were asking him about donating money to the college. He said, "You know, it's an awesome experience to be an entrepreneur. Especially when you do it with someone else's money," meaning the foundation's money. I really laughed at him. ROH: He is funny too. BS: He is. Both he and his wife are. That's my connection with them, the foundation, and we became friends and traveled together. I can't say that I have done much other than just being a part of all of it with Bill. ROH: Well, that's very important because without your support we wouldn't be able to do all the wonderful things that we're able to do and it means a lot to the university. 38 BS: That's about all I did. I had been asked during all those years of raising children, if I would be the Weber County chair of one of the county foundations. They asked me many times if it would be possible to come and work in the social services to work with the pregnant girls, to be their friend, take them to Dr. appointments and let them know that someone cares and loves them. I wanted to help, but I always had someone at home that needed my care. I've always felt bad that I couldn't do more. I started working with the young women in our church when I was 18 and did that for 44 years. ROH: Are you still doing that now? BS: No. I had to give that up. It got to where I could not do the camping and hiking Ben Lomond and all those things, but I did teach for a while. They said, "Just come back and teach the girls and we'll get you help for the activities. You can just do the lessons." ROH: What keeps you busy now? BS: Great grandchildren. ROH: Are you still serving on the board? BS: Yes. I still am. I'm trying to think of what I do. ROH: Trying to keep up with all the family? BS: Well, that's the thing, I always have somebody here. Earlier I had an Avon lady that came to my house and she said, "I can't wait to come here. It's just like a three-ring circus. I never know how many are coming in and out." Ours was a fun 39 home. Bill and I both thoroughly loved teenagers. When the kids got to be teenagers and people, we just had a ball. Also, Ned and Maggie Favero had the White House wedding reception—do you remember that? ROH: I've read about it. BS: She asked me if I would consider doing catering for them. This was a perfect opportunity for my girls and me. We spent many, many hours together baking, making candy and tarts, talking, laughing, and bonding our love and lives together. It gave the girls work experience and an income. I loved to cook. I hate it now, but I loved it then and in the stake anybody that had a problem with cooking would call me. In fact, one ward has already called to see if I would make chocolates again. I said, "No, but Christine and Connie can do it." It really was a circus. We loved kids. When people start complaining about their teenagers I think, "Why? They're all so wonderful." I still have them come and visit, some of those that I taught back in 1945 and 1946. For years they would invite me out to lunch once in a while. Teenagers are pretty smart, they know genuine love and they know a put-on. Bill felt that way too, he absolutely loved young people and they knew it. I smiled when one of the hospice people came in and she said, "The first time I walked in your kitchen, I knew that this was a happy home." I have a sign up on the wall that says, "It's a Wonderful Life." Another lady in our ward brought me one that says, "Life is good." It was good. It really was. I can't say we always agreed. We could build houses and get 40 along fine, but put us in the yard and there was no way could we work together. I always said to him, "If you want to get a housekeeper or a gardener, be sure it's a housekeeper because I want to stay the gardener." He loved to build and I loved to work in the yard. My life was full raising our children and caring for parents, filling our home with teenagers when ours began to leave. When we moved here to Chimney Hills, it was the first time we lived alone, Bill and I. I really miss the full house. We have been truly blessed with a great posterity, 6 children, 26 grandchildren and 55 great grandchildren. When you add in all the spouses, that is over 100 in our family. Life's been good, and I wish I could share more. I've helped a lot of people, but it's just been me doing the things I love to do which is helping people. I still like to serve people. ROH: I thank you very much for taking the time to share your story with me. BS: Thank you, I am really glad to get better acquainted with you.

APRIL, 1899 ocTheo. Gettysburg Mercury CONTENTS. An Unhonored Hero, 41 I Wonder Why, 43 Elements of Franklin's Great-ness, 44 The Passage of the Free School Bill 48 Pages from My Diary, 49 Our Superstitions, 50 The Elfking 54 The Turk and Armenia, 55 Immortality, 58 To Melpomene, 60 A Sun of the North 60 Environment, 63 A Sketch of the Development of Music, 66 Editor's Desk 69 Francis Scott Key's Monument, 70 Kee Mar, 71 The Value of Good Literature, 72 Athletics, 73 Among- the Exchanges, 75 Editor's Scissors 76 Advertisements, 77 FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. mm For Fine Printing GO TO The J. E. WIBLE .♦Printing Rouee Carlisle Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller, Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and . Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. J. H. Myers, Fashionable Tailor, Clothier and Gents' Furnisher. The best place in town tohaveyourCloth-iug 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. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGAR 5. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. JOHN H. MINNIGH, Confectionery lee Creankj^ and. Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. .COLLEOE OF. Physieians and Surgeons BALTIMORE, flD. 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. Vox,. VIII. GETTYSBURG, PA., APRIL, 1899. No. 2 Editor-in-Chief. J. FRANK HEILMAN, '00. Assistant Editors. Alumni Editor. LUTHER A. WEIGLE, '00. REV. F_ D. GARLAND, SAMUEL A. VAN ORMER, '01. Business Manager. Assistant Business Manager. JOHN K. HAMACHER, '00. CLARENCE MOORE, '02. 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 (Gettj-sburg-) College. Subscription price One Dollar a year in advance, single copies Fifteen 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. AN UNHONORED HERO. MANY of the deeds of heroism which were performed on America's greatest battlefield are not recorded by the his-torian, have received no public recognition and have passed into oblivion. The generals and the officers were not the only heroes in our great civil war, although they have received the highest praise and honors. In the graves of the unknown dead in the National Cemetery there may be many sleeping whose deeds are worthy to be written in poems and to be sung in classic songs. In the year 1863 an incident of the battle of Gettysburg oc-curred which has never received any public notice, but was related to me by my father who was fully acquainted with the facts and who was a student at that time in Pennsylvania College. My father's roommate was a youth of fifteen or sixteen years, named Fred. A. Lehman. He was a student in the preparatory department, and was from Pittsburg. On account of youthfulness 42 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and not having the permission of his parents or professors he was not allowed to join the College Company. Consequently when the company left for Harrisburg, Lehman was left behind and was at Gettysburg when the Rebels arrived. During the first day's fight Lehman, whose patriotism was unbounded and who was filled with devotion to his country, went out over the field. As he saw the Union lines slowly driven backward by a superior force, he was unable to restrain himself longer, and seizing the musket of a dead soldier and stripping the lifeless form of its cartridge box he fell into line and entered the contest with the zeal of a veteran, doing excellent service. When the union forces retreated through town he sought refuge at the home of the German professor, the Rev. C. F. Schaeffer, D. D., who resided on Chambersburg Street during the battle. On the morning of July 3rd, tired of staying in, Lehman wished to go out and see how things were progressing, but was restrained by the Schaeffer family. When the family took refuge in the cel-lar Lehman slipped out and thought he would see for himself how things were going, but no sooner did he set foot on the street than he was spied by Rebel sharpshooters on Seminary Ridge. He had only gone a short distance when he was struck just below the knee by a bullet. The ball passed through the leg shattering the bone. Lehman managed to crawl back into the house where he was tenderly cared for by the family. After the battle he was removed to the Union hospital in the Seminary building. The surgeons wished to amputate the leg but were restrained from so doing by the protests of the Scheaffer family and of the professors. The surgeons could not help but yield to the desires of his friends, as he was not a soldier and as his extreme youth was favorable to not amputating the leg. His wound was carefully dressed and in a short time he was able to walk with the aid of crutches, but was rendered a cripple for life. He resumed his studies at the Fall session of College but did not complete his course, leaving in 1864. In the Pennsylvania College Book—page 370—it is stated that he studied law and was located, at the time the book was published, at Washington, D. C. Among the heroes of the great battle of Gettysburg the name of Fred. A. Lehman deserves a place. Although not wounded in actual battle, his impulse was to render service to the cause of liberty and the preservation of the Union. He entered the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 43 fight not for honor nor for glory and with no eye upon him to cheer and urge him on, but his only desire was to fight that his country might live. He perhaps did as efficient service as John Burns, although his youth and activity caused him to be passed by unnoticed. There are monuments which mark the spots where our known heroes fell, their names are engraven on the hearts of the American people and their deeds can never be forgotten; the government pen-sions those whose health was broken and who endured the loss of limbs and disfigurement. This youth fought unnoticed in the great struggle for freedom, received a most painful wound, bore uncom-plainingly his sufferings all these years, and, if living to-day, bears in his body the effects of his patriotism. But he has this concious-ness to give him satisfaction, that in his own way he did what he was able to do for his country's honor in that hour of her sorest trial and greatest danger. e9p —J. ROY RICHARDS, '01. I WONDER WHY. Where'er you go my college friend Along life's devious way. You'll always find a host of things To vex you every day ; The universe is full of them In earth and sea and sky, And all that you can do at times, Is pause, and wonder why. When first you enter learning's halls In cleverness you cloy ; Yet ere a fortnight has elapsed You're caught in some decoy. And, while you wait to hear the sound Of albatritche''s cry, You drop your bag, and curse your fate Then grope, and wonder why. You go to class from day to day Bewitched by classic lore, Your brain becomes a buzzing mart Of phantom forms galore : You poke your nos inter the Greek, You mix your tres with tri, Then when the fellows laugh and shout You blandly wonder why. 44 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. You run to lab. three times a week, You open nature's book; And though it's in a symbol tongue It has a foreign look. You meet with acids weak and strong, With brazen fortn-u-lae; Yet, when the Prof, declines your notes, You grin, and wonder why. Some day you make a new resolve To pay neglected debts, Your friends no sooner find it out Than in they draw their nets,— You drop a letter home to pa, And beg a quick reply ; He chills you with the draft returned In words, "I wonder why ? " Perhaps, you're calling on a girl You'd like to make your wife, You whisper in her ear and say,— You love her more than life; Then asking for her hand in troth She answers with a sigh,— Not, " Oh so sudden I yes, or no " But plain, "I wonder why? " Yet never mind, old captious boy, Don't turn your feet aside, Just plod your way up Duty's path Whatever may betide; Some future day in looking down From heights no wealth can buy ; You'll see the paupered minds below, And know the reason why. -J. B. B., 1900. ELEMENTS OF FRANKLIN'S GREATNESS. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, one of the greatest of Americans, was born in Boston, Massachusetts, in the year 1706. His parents were poor and had seventeen children, of whom Benjamin was the youngest. His father procured a livelihood for the family by manufacturing soap and candles, which, to be sure, could not have been a very profitable vocation as far as pecuniary matters were concerned, for we find that the family was often in financial distress. On account of the poverty of his parents and THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 45 the size of the family, the individual members of which were en-titled to equal consideration, he was unable to obtain more than the ordinary amount of schooling then given to young people. Early in life he attended a grammar school, and while there dili-gently applied himself to his studies. Later he took lessons in writing and arithmetic under the famous master, George Brownells. This was all the instruction that he received, his parents be-ing unable to send him to any college or university. Having thus briefly noted the disadvantages under which he began his career, we may regard self-denial, inspired by his in-tense love of knowledge, as the first element of his greatness. While yet young he became a vegetarian, so as to purchase books for a higher education. Though by no means a miser, he lived most economically and in the greatest simplicity, that he might procure books and magazines. Almost every cent that he saved was used in purchasing books. It may here also be mentioned that he was a prodigious reader, often reading books and maga-zines, (some of which were his own, and some of which he had borrowed,) the greater part of the night, and consequently he was well informed on almost all of the subjects of the day. Though many instances of this element of his greatness might be cited, we let what has been said suffice, and turn our attention to the second element of his greatness. Self-reliance may be said to have been the second element. The following instances furnish proof that he possessed this at-tribute. His trip to Philadelphia may be taken as the first instance. While yet a young man he decided to try his for-tunes in another city. He accordingly set out for Philadelphia, travelling all the way on foot, as he did not possess the means necessary for travelling in a better manner. After a long and wearisome journey he arrived in Philadelphia, with but a Dutch dollar and a shilling in his pocket. All that he possessed was what was attached to his person. He found himself in a strange city, in a city in which he had neither friends nor relatives. His future looked gloomy. He had little hope of success. But all these misfortunes do not seem to have baffled him. He was not idle. He at once sought for employment, and he soon found it. He worked hard, made friends and money, and finally rose to fame, and was admired and loved by all who knew him. Coming into the city as a poor stranger, by relying upon his own ability iHH^ni^^Bm 1 46 77/^ GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and diligently applying himself to his business, he rose high in the esteem and veneration of the people. His trip to England may be taken as the second instance of self-denial. He made this trip some time after the one from Boston to Philadelphia. Having been induced by false representations to go to England, he crossed the Atlantic, and arrived in London, where he soon found himself almost penniless. Heknewnoone. He was in a strange country. But here also by his self-reliance and firmness he managed to earn enough to procure a living, and, indeed, finally lived quite com-fortably. He made friends everywhere, and, as in America, was honored and loved by all. So much for this element of his great-ness. We now turn to a third, his perseverance. Perseverance he possessed in a high degree and gave proof of the fact in almost everything that he did. Some of his greatest achievements were accomplished by the aid of this element in his character. We may cite his discovery of the indentity of lightning with electricity. He had studied and pored over this subject a long, long time. He sometimes even despaired of ever finding a solution to the problem. He had studied it in all of its phases and relations, before his efforts were finally crowned with success, when he charged a Leyden jar with lightning drawn from the clouds by means of an insulated wire, one end of which was at-tached to a kite. His perseverance while learning the trade of printing, may also be noted here. While an apprentice his lot was hard and discouraging. There was no great hope of success. He worked hard and constantly, and was almost always somewhat financially embarrassed. He struggled on, however, and finally, after he had served his apprenticeship and had begun business as a printer, made a success. He even became famous through the circulation of the "Poor Richards Almanac," which was widely read and even translated into foreign languages. The instances illustrating this element of his greatness are so numerous, indeed, that it would be tedious to mention them all. We will let the two mentioned suffice. They give proof enough that he possessed this great quality, a quality that so often has raised men from humble stations to positions of honor and glory. A fourth element of Franklin's greatness was his logical method of treating subjects. This was one of the greatest elements which distinguished him. He was a great lover of the "Science of Sciences.'' He tested the truth or falsity of statements by logical THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 47 examination. He formed all his conclusions logically. He would assent to nothing that was not logically true. In all of his great discoveries his conclusions were based upon logical treatment. He was, in short pre-eminently logical in everything that he did. Reason was his guide, and it is only fair to conclude that this great element in his character, which he possessed in such high degree, was one of the greatest causes, if not the greatest, of his success and, of course, of his greatness. In this connection we may mention his keen observation of persons and things as a minor element of his greatness. It is said that scarcely anything escaped his notice. He studied and pondered over things that ordinary men were scarcely aware of. His observations set him to think-ing, and often great results followed. Another minor element, unimportant as it may seem, had not a little to do with his success; affability and readiness in every kind of conversation, which made him a universal favorite. Indeed, when in England, this inherent quality, by winning for bim popular favor and admiration, did much for his recovery from the great financial losses that he had suffered. His tales of adventure and witticisms are very interest-ing, and are popular even at the present day. Everybody loved to converse with him. He was so entertaining, charming, brilliant and witty. We will now pass to a fifth great element, his breadth of mind. He was broad in his sympathies. He was not in the least con-trolled by any narrowness of mind. He never took part in petty quarrels relating to certain opinions, creeds or theories. He believ-ed in freedom of thought, and wished every person to think fearlessly and according to the dictates of reason and his own conscience. This noble quality is seen most clearly in his religion. His was an universal religion, inasmuch as he was not controlled in his religious views by any creed or doctrine, but by his conscience. It is said that he never went to church, but prayed at home. This may be true; it may not be. It makes no difference whether it be true or not, so far as we are concerned, for we know he lived morally, nobly benefited mankind by his labor, and was loved and honored by all nations on account of the noble services by which he blessed mankind. —C. H. G., '00. 48 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE PASSAGE OF THE FREE SCHOOL BILL. BRIGHTLY the sun arose on the morning of April n, 1835. It was a momentous occasion, for before the Legislature of Pennsylvania was an issue than which none more important ever had been discussed in those halls. It was the Free School Bill, and by common consent the vote was to be taken on that day. Governor Wolf had favored it in his annual message, and little else had occupied the attention of those early lawmakers during the session. The discussion had been long and spirited. The opponents, influenced to some extent by false ideas of duty to their constituents, had been bitter in their denunciation of the measure; while the friends seemed to think it their duty to spare no effort to secure its adoption. They believed the education of the masses to be essential to the perpetuity of a Republican form of government. Perhaps they, in looking down the dim vista of future years, saw the present glorious system and the joy and hope it gives the state, and delighted in being its progenitors. Surely they realized with the poet— "The riches of a commonwealth Are free, strong- minds and hearts of health; And more to her than gold or grain, The cunning' hand and cultured brain." As the legislators assembled on that balmy day, the opponents were jubilant; while the friends, though doubting, were hopeful: such was the state of affairs as they took their accustomed places. To the consternation of all present, when the Chaplain arose for prayer, he besought Almighty God to lay bare His strong right arm and save the state from that poverty and bankruptcy which were sure to follow, if the people were to have their property wrested from them for the education of all the children. The battle opened with all the leaders ready ; and as the crisis approached, a young lawyer, Thaddeus Stevens, stepped to the front and "met the assailants with such strength of logic, brilliancy of rhetoric, nobility of purpose, and magnanimity of spirit that the bill was saved." By that speech he gave the state a legacy richer than Golconda's jewel mine or Ophir's golden ore. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 49 PAGES FROM MY DIARY. AFTER a few days in the quaint cities of Holland, our party hastened to Cologne. The view of the great Cathedral, whose twin towers, unfinished for centuries, were com-pleted since 1871 as a monument and symbol of United Germany, more than fulfilled our expectations. Then came the journey up the Rhine, more like a dream than reality; and then in rapid suc-cession "fair Bingen on the Rhine," Mainz, Frankfort, Heidel-berg and Strassburg, until farther on in Switzerland appeared, high above the other mountains, mass piled upon mass, in dazzling splendor, the incomparable Bernese Alps. We did not, as so many do, attempt to do the Rhine in one day, but lingered here and there, at some quaint village, where at night a hunter's horn would awaken the echoes of the hills, and seem to be summoning the knights of old to come forth and, even if for only a night, to inhabit their ancient strongholds and castles. Time was, to be sure, when other thoughts than picturesqueuess struck the merchant, who had to pass them. They are the relics of the age when might was right, and when every noble governed as he pleased, and levied heavy toll upon all who passed through his land, often at the point of the sword. These lordly castles, whether along the Rhine or Danube, are now fallen in ruins, like the feudal system, which gave them birth. Their ruins now add to the picturesqueness of the scene. Nature has dealt kindly with them, massive trees grow through their walls, and ivy clings to every crevice. If these walls could speak, what deeds of cruelty they could disclose, what feuds, what fratricidal strife! But if these times were in some respects barbarous, they were also heroic and full of romance. Many a castle could witness to the heroic lives of men, and especially to the holy lives of noble women. The reader of this practical age loves to linger over the pages of those authors who have made these times their theme, and involuntarily the wish arises for more dash of romance in this everyday life of ours. Perhaps it is distance that lends en-chantment, and there is more romance in the present than we think, if we only have the eyes to see it. * * * * Day after day as a child I had seen from my home, near the foot of the Black Forest, the outline of the great cathedral of 5Q THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Strassburg, and behind it, in the distance, the long outline of the Vosges mountains. Occasionally at some brilliant sunset the mountains seemed lined with gold, but never did those regions seem less prosy, than when after many years of absence I gazed from the tower of Strassburg Cathedral on what has been justly called "the garden of Europe." About fifteen miles to the west the jagged outlines of the Vosges run for nearly one hundred miles north and south, the Rhine sweeps along, until far to the north it appears like a thread of silver, to the east about ten miles away extends parallel to the Vosges, the Black Forest. The plain between, as far as the eye can reach, is dotted with cities, towns, and villages, while here and there are the sombre hues of extensive forests. At our feet is Strassburg, the old city with its red tile gables just beneath us, beyond stretches the modern part, and still be-yond this the formidable fortifications which make Strassburg well nigh impregnable. By August 24, 1870, a Germany army division had surrounded Strassburg and from this time to September 27th, the bombard-ment lasted without intermission. The roar of cannon was con-tinuous, shattering the windows in many of the surrounding towns and the nights were made bright with the glare of the burning city. From church steeples we watched the movements of the army, when the French attempted sallies. But at last the white flag appeared. Much valuable property was destroyed, but with some slight damages, which have been repaired, the great cathedral, standing on the site of a church of the fifth century, itself begun in 1015 and completed in 1449, was saved. Every traveler may still draw inspiration from it, and raise his eyes, as pious Tauler did of old, "dizzily up to where in the moon-bright-ness the great Minster's tower, jeweled with sunbeams on its moral crown, rises like a visible prayer." -C. F. B. OUR SUPERSTITIONS. FROM the earliest times of antiquity to the present day the power of superstition has wielded a dominant influence over the minds and hearts of men. With the evolution of Christian civilization this mighty influence has been gradually diminished in its power and narrowed in its extent. Religion HHHilHM^HnBiH M«HH - ' ' '" HHHM THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 5i and philosophy, Christian ethics and morals, science and art, have been the titantic dykes which have even pushed back the swift mountainous waves of Pagan superstition, opening up for the mind of man a magnificent expanse of development. The great waters have been pushed back, but they have left behind them countless little pools and rivulets, which all too plainly show the recentness of the mighty flood. Much of the punctiliousness of our modern society amounts to nothing less than a dainty and re-fined superstition. Bacon has truly said—"there is a superstition in avoiding superstition." The glaring superstitions of the uneducated classes are too ob-vious for our present consideration. The criminal beliefs of the unenlightened classes and tribes of heathendom are hackneyed. The Hindoo mother, tearing her wailing babe from her bosom and flinging it into the flowing waters of the Ganges, the indescribable crimes of ignorance in the Dark Continent, the frightful outrages of the South Seas, shock the moral sense of the enlightened nations. All these things the civilized world witnesses with uplifted hands, unmindful of the aesthetic trace in its own veins. Popular political and religious superstitions are rife in the world to-day, even while it stands watching the downing rays of the twentieth century quivering in the auroral horizon. The atmosphere of our modern and so-called enlightened society is so filled with the curse of so-cial lies, direct offsprings of superstition, that much of the living truth and natural goodness of the human heart is converted into the most sickly forms that have ever gilded and bolstered.up the morbid vapidity of the human mind. "Evil haunts The birth, the bridal; friend from friend Is oftener parted, fathers bend Above more graves, a thousand wants Gnaw at the heels of men, and prey By each cold hearth, and sadness flings Her shadow on the blaze of Kings." The folly and the crime of superstition so pervades our society that many otherwise useful and rational minds have been warped and stunted in their development. As a natural product of this condition civil government has been hindered, education has been harassed, and art has suffered irreparable loss. The clearest and most succinct definition of the word super-stition is from the pen of Canon Kingsley,—"an unreasonable 52 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. fear of the unknown.'' From this it can be said without fear of con-tradiction, that all superstitions are formed within the various gra-dations of ignorance. The power of ignorance seems to move with the same step as does the power of knowledge. Knowledge has be-come refined and discriminate; so has ignorance. Superstition has grown into such a state as to become almost unrecognizable. Much of the religion, philosophy, and ethics of to-day, and in truth, our whole conduct of life, shows strong traces of supersti-tion. The iron will of heredity, with its inexorable, brass-riveted decrees, has long been a faithful devotee at the shrine of modern superstition. Awed, bowing multitudes listen to its irrevocable mandate. Its voice has the deep solemnity of a passing bell. "A ma?i is the direct product of his progenitors.'' The edict is spoken. Thousands, branded as moral lepers, must forever leave the pre-cincts of "good society." At the approach of the traveler they must draw a filthy covering over their chalky faces and cry out in an agony of woe, " Unclean! Unclean! " The doctrine of heredity is only half a truth. Our present matter does not permit us to enter into any extended argument in support of this statement. Moreover, examples substantiating it are by far too numerous. Sufficient to say, that many noble souls have been cruelly ostracized, and in many instances, ruined, by the superstitious credulity concerning the infallability of the laws of heredity. "L,ike father, like son" has unjustly closed many doors, and has sent more than one soul into a career, which would have been otherwise if more broadness had been practiced. Imitation is recognized by modern psychologists as one of the strongest propensities of the human mind. In the withering light of this great truth it matters not whether a man's ancestry be good or evil, so long as he follows and imitates proper ideals. Among our modern superstitions may be classed two, which mould with an iron hand the opinions of the average man, news-paper superstitiou and the superstition of "majority." With re-gard to the former it can be said without fear of serious contra-diction, that its power is inestimable. What mind can compute the product of the fear of modern newspaper criticism ? Public opinion seems to swell and wane at the motion of the editor's baton. The public press of to-day has made statesmen waver with indecision, tremble with a superstitious dread of newspaper THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 53 odium, and even fail in their sworn duty. Strong and mighty and resolute is the mind which is able to stand unmoved by the mighty waves of newspaper superstition which sweep at times in a per-fect deluge over our nation. Mightier yet than newspaper superstition is the superstition of majority. The average newspaper bows low before it in servile obeisance. The rule of majority is right when it is the expres-sion of the true and deeply underlying feelings of the great heart of mankind. But the history of the race is sadly traced with periods when the cry of majority has caused a pervading sense of superstitious terror, and has filled the bones of nations with the rottenness of decay. The noblest and best in man seems to have taken up its abode not in "majority" but in "minority." The worst havoc of the demoralizing power of superstition has been played in religion. In the full glory of this closing cen-tury a stain of deep regret must be felt on account of the niedi-aevalism displayed in the religious thought of the civilized world. This is almost wholly confined to the middle and lower classes of intelligence. No words are more to the point than those of Bacon—"it were better to have no opinion of God at all, than such an opinion as is unworthy of Him; for the one is unbelief, the other is contumely; and certainly superstition is the reproach of the Deity." To enter into a detailed discussion of religious superstitions is beyond the scope of this article. It is more to our purpose to hail with joy the dawn of that day when pure science and religion shall be recognized as an indissoluble union, pro-claiming the "Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man" as an actual and eternal truth. The present age is one of change. Many mental and physical ghosts, will-o'-the-wisps of the night, are losing their mystic glow in the full glare of reason. We are beginning to learn more fully, "That life is not an idle one, But iron dug- from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom To shape and use." If we do not misinterpret the signs of the times, religion is demanding that the world be enlightened from pole to pole. The idea of education has taken a mighty hold on the Christian con- 54 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. sciousness of the world, and what religion in the hearts of the people demands, will be done. The spirit of the age decries superstition, the deep disgrace of our intelligence, and sings with the poet— "Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring- out the darkness of the land, Ring- in the Christ that is to be." —O. E. B., '00. THE ELFKING. GOETHE. Who rides at night through the storm so wild ? It is a father and only child ; He has the boy safe on his arm, He clasps him fast, he holds him warm. "My son, why hide you your face in fear?"— "Why father, the king of the elves is here ; The crowned elf-king with a flowing train,"— "My son, 'tis only the misty rain."— "My dear child, come and go with me ! Such pretty plays I'll play with thee; Gay-colored flowers grow by the shore, My mother has golden garments galore."— "My father, my father, and dost thou not hear The king of the elves speaks right in my ear ?"— "Be quiet, my child, 'tis only the breeze Which softly rustles the frost-bitten leaves."— "Good youth, wilt thou not go with me ? My daughters fair will wait on thee; My daughters nightly a-dancing will keep, Will rock thee and dance thee and sing thee to sleep."- My father, my father, and seest thou not The elf-king's daughters on that dismal spot ?"— "My son, my son, I see as alway, 'Tis the gloomy willows so sombre and gray."— "I love you, your beauty has so charmed my mind, Unwilling, I'll force you; don't think me unkind."— "My father, my father, I feel his strong arm ! The king of the elves is doing me harm ! " THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The shuddering- father rides swift and wild, He holds in his arms his groaning- child, He reaches his home in fear and dread,— In his trembling arms his child lay dead. 55 -C. '99. THE TURK AND ARMENIA. TURK is the synonym for cruelty rather than for pity, a syno-nym for barbarism rather than for civilization and refor-mation . Ever since her existence Turkey has stood forth as one of the greatest foes of civilization. Turkey is not a small principality, not an insignificant nation, but a people numbering two hundred millions. Their earliest appearance in history was about the eighth century; coming from Turkestan, they obtained possession of a part of Armenia, extending their conquests over adjacent portions of Asia, Africa, and Europe. To-day their kingdom comprises the most celebrated, best situated and naturally finest provinces of the continents. As a great nation their history presents great victories, a history which is written with a bloody sword dipped in the blood of many Christians, by whose exist-ence, Turkey formed an immense army. The glorious name and honor of our Christianity often was trampled under their feet. Wherever they went a broad line of devastation marked their track, the lands which they took possession of reeked with human blood, and the atmosphere darkened with the dense clouds of crime and shame, for they presented themselves as the one great anti-human specimen of humanity. Christianity hid herself on account of persecution under the ugly mantle of affliction, and as far as their dominion reached, civilization disappeared from view, and barbarism found an occasion to offer hatred and the bitter cup of cruelty. Mohammedanism proved by the sword that it is well qualified, as a moth, to destroy the garment of civilization, and to cause the best character and abilities of the subject nations to de-cline. The blessed door of civilization and reformation closed against them. The Turks enter not themselves, neither suffer them that are anxious to enter to do so. Mohammedanism has been a burning shame in the history of Christendom and an incurable sore in the hearts of many philanthropists. It represents everywhere a government by ■■^^^HB^^HIHH 56 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. force as opposed to a government by law. Righteousness does not enter it, for it is only a den of robbery and bribery. Bribery is a disgraceful condition which causes the government to decline and truth and righteousness to disappear. Such a government is not a safe establishment for the welfare of country and people. Office under the government is often bought by money rather than secured on account of ability ; and the law is only a chameleon which changes its form readily according to the wishes of the officers. The government has authority to overrule all affairs of the people. Schools, books, newspapers, national history, all are absolutely under the censorship of the government. In a word, the important agencies which form civilization and reformation are checked in different ways in the subject nations, so as to blind and to degrade them. It is not infrequently that one hears that a newspaper office is closed on account of not using conservative language, neither is it a rare occurrence that a school boy is held responsible for his literary production, nor that a teacher suffers on account of teaching national history or songs, which inspires his students with glorious feeling for country and nation. These are tbe testimonies to the civilization of the Turk. Their power depends upon sword and religion ; many small na-tions have suffered and suffer yet under his sword and misrule, although some of them were able to declare their independence after a bloody night of tribulation. The small nation of Armenia has undergone insufferable afflictions ever since the thirteenth century. Turkey has shown its best qualities in the detestable and wicked outrages upon Armenia, and fruits have been testimonies enough as to what kind of people the Turks are. They give a new impetus to barbarism rather than to advanced civilization and reformation. Christianity is the mother of true civilization and reformation. If this is a fact, how can the Turks or a non-Christian nation be civilized? It is an impossibility to become reformed and civilized without having any Christian influence. The Turk is standing as the master of a few subdued Christian nations, but these nations have proved that they are far superior in every respect to their ruler. The Armenians though under the flag of Turkish barbarism, stand as a race, small in number, unfortunate, weak, and conquered, yet we may say to-day, greater than the conqueror, for Armenia has shown the elements of I THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 57 true wisdom, honor and greatness, by her intense loyalty to the Cross, and shall have the honor to bear the cruel star of persecu-tion upon her forehead, as a testimony of faithfulness to her Master. The merits of a nation do not depend altogether upon power and greatness of numbers, but upon the character and the elements which form true power and greatness. The Turk is as unchange-able as one of the Egyptian mummies; he does not progress nor does he care much, but it seems that he takes pleasure in keeping on in his previous condition, and also in hindering his subjects from progressing. How can there be allegiance and loyalty under such circumstances ? This life seems a very heavy burden and shame to Armenians, and though the best of the Armenian youth preferred to sacrifice themselves upon the altar of freedom, still it seems these sacrifices have not been accepted, and the glorious morning of independence has not yet dawned upon Armenia. The flowers of her hope have faded under the relentless and scorching sun of misfortune. Many looked upon her with ridicule and despisingly, for she was wearing the ugly garment of misfortune, and bearing the thorny crown of persecution upon her head. The cup of affliction overflowed, and the contrite children of the na-tion began to mourn, bitterly lamenting in their native song— "No more for the Armenian A twinkling star appears ; His spirit's flowers have faded Beneath a rain of tears. Ceased are the sounds of harmless mirth. The dances hand in hand ; Only the weapou of the Turk Shines freely through the land." The Armenian nation has the honor of having been the first na-tion converted to Christianity. Ever since Armenia's tribulation, the Turk has exercised upon her every brutality, and although she dwells among a barbarous and non-Christian nation, she still keeps her Christianity and purity, and often her children prefer to lose their lives rather than desecrate the sanctity of the Ar-menian family. It is a fact that to-day Armenia is not one of the best civi-lized and reformed nations, but she has shown the best possible character and desire for it, besides we must consider those circum-stances which she has undergone. Very few recognize what 58 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. beauty and wisdom is hidden under the gloomy veil of misfortune. Some day He who understands and hears all supplications and petitions of these hearts of ours, shall lift the veil and destroy the cruel power of the Turk upon Armenia. Then this small and insignificant nation shall stand forth in her bridal garment among the Christian nations of the world, bearing the banner of "faithful servant" crimson with the blood of many martyrs. —ARDASHES H. MERDINYAN, '01. IMMORTALITY. ONE of the most wonderful and inexplicable things in the universe is the intimate and mutually dependent relation between the soul and the physical organism. The soul as we know it, owes its continued existence, and the power to ex-ercise its functions, to the body with its intricate and admirably adapted mechanism. All we know of the world comes to us through the five senses and is conditioned by the manner in which we use them. Even the faculties of reasoning and re-membering seem to be closely associated with the structure of the brain, and the discovery of this relation will ever remain as the unattainable aim and end of Biological Psychology. Moreover, we naturally and unconsciously judge character, disposition and mental capacity simply by the face and general external appear-ance and our judgments are often surprisingly correct. Thus there seems to be some truth in the strange statement of Plato that a beautiful soul seeks a body equally beautiful to inhabit. Notwithstanding this close interdependence between soul and body, they are united to each other by a very fragile bond. How easily may the silver cord be loosed or the golden bowl bebroken ! A bit of flying lead or an electric spark will stop the delicate ma-chinery, just as a grain of sand will arrest the balance wheel of a Swiss watch, and naught be left but a bit of lifeless clay. The strong arm is cold and motionless ; the sparkling eye is dim and glassy ; the lips are silent; the soul is gone,—whither ? From time immemorial this has been a matter of thoughtful conjecture and philosophers of all ages have offered solutions to it. It is of vital import to every one and probably no other question has received such universal attention. Is the soul anni- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 59 hilated when the body dies? Can it be that "life is a bubble cast upon the ocean of eternity to float for a moment upon its surface and then sink into nothingness and darkness forever?" Men have shrunk from such a conclusion; it would preclude all religious belief. The ancient Egyptians and Babylonians believed in the immor-tality of the soul. The Greek philosopher, Pythagoras, con-ceived a strange and irrational theory concerning its future exist-ence. Even the Indians of North America look forward to their Happy Hunting Ground. At the time of the French Revolution, when men lost their reason and became savage beasts, they went so far as to belie their own consciousness and, as the ostrich seeks safety by thrusting its head into the sand, they vainly sought to shield themselves from future punishment for their hor-rible crimes by the false aphorism, "Death is an eternal Sleep." But, "Truth crushed to earth shall rise again," and they soon saw and acknowledged their folly by a pompous, public declaration of the immortality of the soul. Since the principle of immortality has such a deep foundation in human nature, we must conclude that it was placed there by the Creator and consequently is a reality. The mode of existence of the disembodied spirit defies all ex-planation in accordance with our material ideas; it cannot bear and feel and see as it formerly did through its sense organs but, in order to retain its integrity, it must at least be able to exercise its functions ; it must know, reason and remember. All our thoughts and deeds will forever be before us,—the wicked and the good in striking contrast. Then what a sweet satisfaction there will be in the consciousness that we have done the right, and what pitiful and endless misery our evil deeds will be to us. The untiring, sleepless Erinnyswill follow on our track. The grinning spectre of remorse will haunt us with the memory of our neglected opportunities. Accordingly, there rests upon us in view of our future happiness the obligation to follow the dictates of righteousness and always be true and noble, so that when our summons comes we may receive the greeting, "Well done." —B. '99. 6o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. TO MELPOMENE. HORACE. A monument I've built, more lastingthan bronze- More loftj' than the piles of Egypt's tow'ring mounds; Such as no wasting- rains, nor northwind's violent blast, Nor endless age, nor flight of time, is able to lay waste. My work shall ever live, ascending lofty heights; While priest and virgin mute, perform the sacred rites. Posterity shall see my glory to increase, And men remember me till Rome herself shall cease. It shall be said of me, a prince of humble birth, Born where Aufidus roars and Daunus rul'd the earth, That from ^Eolian fields, I first brought lyric strains; And, on Italian lands, produced the sweet refrains. Then crown my glorious brow, sweet muse Melpomene, With Delphic laurel wreath, and thereby honor me. —M. '02. A SON OF THE NORTH. SNAP, crash! "At last I am through that cursed thicket." It was the first of July, 1863, and the terrific struggle at Get-tysburg had just begun. After the remark with which our story opens, the speaker, a young man clad in the gray and gold of a Confederate staff-officer, slippped from his saddle, and leaving his horse to graze about on the scanty grass, climbed a little farther up the hill, and stepping upon a pile of stones, swept the surrounding country with his field-glasses. "Surrender or die!'' suddenly exclaimed a low voice, in which there was a perceptible note of laughter. The officer lowered his glasses with a start, and turned in the direction from which the sound had come, whilst he fumbled for his revolver. The next moment, with a cry of surprise and joy he passionately em-braced a tall, blue-clad figure. For awhile the grim business on which they were each engaged was forgotten, and they fairly over-whelmed each other with questions. They had been chums at col-lege, but at the outbreak of the rebellion they had enlisted, the one in the Northern, the other in the Southern army ; and now while out scouting, chance had thrown them together near their old college home. Suddenly, as they talked, the glad light of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 6l welcome faded in the Northerner's face. "And what do you know about Bess Marl ?" he said. "Why, you know I used to go out there frequently. Don't you remember?" "No, I don't." "Well, perhaps I didn't tell you where I went; we used to keep such things quiet at college, but that is where I made the calls you and the other fellows used to jolly me so much about. How is she ?'' '' Her father and brothers are all enlisted in the Northern army and she and her mother, as they remained on the place, are right in your line of attack. But, Bob, how comes you are so interested?" The Southerner's face reddened even through its bronze, and as the Northerner noticed it, it angered him. "So you love the pretty Bessie, do you?" Something in his tone caused Bob Lancy to look at him. "And what does that signify?" he questioned sharply. The Northerner's face softened and his grey eyes lit up. "Because I would give my life to keep her from all harm," he said softly, fancy's face grew dark, and for a few moments neither spoke. Then the Northerner stretched out his hand to Lancy as he said solemnly: "God knows, my only wish is her happiness. She shall decide between you and me; and you, Bob Lancy, shield her and her's, because till evening your lines will have enclosed her home." The Southerner grasped and wrung the outstretched hand while he repeated, "She shall decide between us." Then the two men pledged each other to shield and protect the girl for whom they would both have given their lives. "We may never meet again, who knows,'' said Lancy. "Good-bye, Harry Sinclair, dear old chum." Once more they wrung each other's hands, and then hurried away in opposite directions. It was late afternoon, and in the living room of a comfortable old farmhouse all was confusion. Heaps of household goods were lying packed, preparatory to being taken out of the reach of harm, by the large hay-wagon at the door. Two women were hard at work gathering together the most valuable articles, which an old servant was loading on the wagon. At last everything that could be taken with them was loaded, and with a last tearful 62 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. look at the old home which the shot and shell of the morrow would tear to pieces, they hurriedly mounted the wagon and drove away. Suddenly a horseman appeared beside the wagon from the al-ready dusky woods along the road, and with terror they noticed that he was clothed in Confederate gray. The next instant their terror gave way to joy as they recognized in the officer Robert Lancy. "Why, Miss Bess, I am in luck," he exclaimed in joyous tones as he recognized the occupants of the wagon. Greetings were exchanged; then, Lancy having assured them that the road was open as far as he knew, he was compelled to hurry away to report to his commander. Not before he had look-ed deep into Bess Marl's eyes, which met his for a moment, and then drooped as he inquired where he might see them again if he lived. At the last proviso Miss Marl had looked up quickly and then had bent to arrange something in the wagon and he saw her lips trembling ; then, with a lingering hand clasp he was gone. There had been a silent spectator in the woods beside the wagon. Harry Sinclair had been about to ride up to the wagon, when Lancy had appeared from the other side of the road. Now, as Sinclair rode away through the woods, his teeth were shut tight, and his face was perfectly bloodless in its pallor. He had seen the soft flush on Miss Marl's cheek and the drooping head. Alas, he knew too well what they meant. At first, fierce jealousy and anger took possession of his heart, then the wish that the woman whom he loved so tenderly might be happy at whatever cost to himself overcame all other considerations. The next day he was posted with his command on Culp's hill. About noon a Confederate cavalry brigade galloped out from the shelter of the woods, in splendid order. They swung into line as if on dress parade. Then, with sabres gleaming in the sunlight, they charged. Many saddles were empty by the time they reached the low stone wall. The next instant they were engaged with the infantry behind it. The struggle was fierce, but the Confederates were slowly gaining, when on their flank came the wild charge of a body of northern cavalry. Deep into the body of the Southern regi-ment, overturning horses, trampling their riders under foot, drove the wedge of blue. At the head of one of the companies rode Capt. Harry Sinclair. The light of battle gleamed in his eyes as he shouted to his men. The Southerners began to yield. Suddenly THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 63 Sinclair and Bob I_ancy were sword to sword. Both are good swordsmen and the combatants seem equally matched. But what is the matter with Sinclair? Twice there has been an opening, and twice he has turned aside his blade. Suddenly, his guard goes down and with a groan he pitches forward and falls. Quickly his old chum leaps down beside him. A stray bullet has pierced his lungs. With a tender hand, Lancy lifts the dark, curly head and presses his flask to the pale lips. The eyelids quiver and the gray eyes open. He recognizes Lancy with a smile and tries to speak, but a rush of blood checks him. At last he whispers, "Good-bye, Bob,—dear—old—chum. Tell—Bess—I—knew she—loved you and so I didn't"—but his voice fails. With a last whisper of '' Give—mother'' he points to his coat pocket, then his noble young spirit quits the earth. The wave of battle has swept into the distance and still Bob Lancy sits like a statue, gazing piteously at the form of his chiv-alrous- hearted friend, who had redeemed his love with his life. —C. M. S., '01. ENVIRONMENT. THE stripes of the Bengal tiger, as if the shadows of the reeds amongst which he walks; the snowy whiteness of the Polar bear; the delicate, leaf-tinted hue of the green linnet; the rabbit's coat amongst the dead leaves of autumn, or that of the squirrel upon the oak; all are marked instances of the adaptation of environment induced by Natural Selection or otherwise. Fur-thermore, it has been shown by scientists, as Hunter, Alfred Russell Wallace, Hohugren, and Darwin, that even the organism of ani-mals may be changed by a change of habitat and food. The giz-zard of the pigeon is transformed to the carnivorous stomach of the sea-gull, if it is provided with meat for a considerable time; and, vice versa. Man, too, acknowledges these changes in him-self. Tennyson in the mouth of Ulysses, for whom he has named his charming little poem, says:— "I am a part of all that I have met." The need of environment, or the fact that man is not self-ex-istent, is almost universally acknowledged, at least, as well as the fact of environment. In and of himself, man is not. If shut 64 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. off from food and light he dies. Why, likewise, if he is deprived of mental food, books, and conversation and communion with others, will his intellectual and spiritual manhood not die? No internal force can supply this environment. In the physical world we have the same. A piece of coal is known to have the possibility of producing a certain amount of heat, yet it is not the coal alone. Without its environment of oxygen, it were nothing ; for it is the affinity of the carbon of the coal for the oxygen, and their precipitous rush to be united which causes the heat. The same need exists, and the same effects are produced in the lives and characters of men by environment and heredity, which together entirely determine the man. From Lamartine's "Cromwell" (p. 5) we quote, "Robert Cromwell, father of the future sovereign of England, brought up his family in poverty. * * The poor, rough, unyielding nature of this moist country, the unbroken horizon, the muddy river [the Ouse], cloudy sky, and miserable trees * * were calculated to sadden the dis-position of a child. The character of the scenes in which we are brought up impresses our souls." He then cites Mohamet from the scorching valleys of Arabia, Luther, Calvin, as well as Cromwell, adding, "As is the place so is the man." "That is very comforting and pleasing," says one. "Icannot live under the strain of college life and be a Christian," nor "on a stony farm," nor "in a factory," nor "with the kind of neighbors I have," nor "under the confining cares of the household, and maintain that sort of Christian life which I should like to pos-sess," come in the voices from all sides. They are trying to ex-cuse their lame and halting Christian life on the plea of one or more inherited traits, or their surroundings, which, they claim, make the highest Christian life impossible. Environment and heredity entirely determine a man's life, we repeat, granting that the proper interpretation be put upon those terms. Yet, this forms no plea for not living the highest Christian life, for there is spiritual as well as physical Environ-ment and Heredity. Our occupations, tastes, ways of thinking, even looks, may become changed, but nowhere can there be found, save perhaps negative, proof (Compare Lu. 12:47, 48), that the Divine Judge will mitigate his sentence because of en-vironment. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 65 Henry Drummond in "The Changed Life—The Alchemy of Influence" quotes the words of one of the highest intellects this age has known: '"By the love of God in Christ Jesus I am what I am.' If you ask me precisely what I mean by that, I say, frankly, that more than any recognized influence of my father or my mother upon me; more than the social influence of all the members of my father's household, more, so far as I can trace it, or so far as I am made aware of it, than all the social influences of every kind, Christ has had the formation of my mind and my disposition." God himself put an end to all excuses almost twenty-five hundred years ago, by his words to Ezekiel (Ch. 18: 2-4, cf. v. 20): "What mean ye that ye use this proverb concerning the land of Israel, saying, The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and the children's teeth are set on edge? As I live, saith the Lord God, ye shall not have oc-casion any more to use this proverb of Israel. * * The soul that sinneth, it shall die." The spiritual environment leaves no room for pleas. The writings of the Apostle Paul as well as the sayings of Christ Jesus show us this fact. With scientific accuracy, Paul says, "Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves; but our sufficiency is of God (II Cor. 3:5). We ueed the environment, we have all we need in Him. Without it, man feels a need, a craving, a longing, for something, he hardly knows what. "I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for with-out me," severed from me, "ye can do nothing." (John 15 : 15.) "Our sufficiency," not a partially satisfying environment, but all we need in Him we find. "In Him we live and move and have our being." (Acts 17:28.) Ponder the thought until it enters into your very being, until it is revealed to you with transforming power. Then will there be "love, joy, peace," and not until then. When we can say with Paul: "I live, nevertheless not I, but Christ liveth in me," then shall we truly know the power of environment, and shall not desire to claim any excuses for a halting life. —C. C. G., '00. 66 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. A SKETCH OF THE DEVELOPMENT OF MUSIC. THE history of every art—literature, sculpture, painting, music or whatever it may be,—can usually be divided into several distinct epochs, each of which has its own peculiar char-acteristics. In music, authorities generally have four such divi-sions. It is my purpose in this short sketch to glance briefly at each of these periods and name the distinctive characteristics of each. Far back in the beginning of every nation or people there was a time when music, or to speak more correctly, the raw material of music, consisted of only the sounds of nature such as • we hear to-day among animal life and among certain savage tribes. As definite notes, few, of course, at first, began to take the place of these indefinite and irregular shouts and cries, music came into ex-istence. Examples of this change may be found at the present day amongsavage peoples. Their songs usually consist of vague howls or wails which are but a slight advance upon the original nature-sounds. They are in a transition state between meaningless sounds and music. The next step in the development of the art was the formation of melodies; songs began to arise. These songs are called "folk-songs ;'' they exist among all peoples and nations and differ in beauty and form just as the peoples who invent them differ in character and in habits of life. For instance, the folk-songs of Southern Europe,—Italy and Spain, are of a light, very melo-dious character, usually sung in quick time, and accompanied by dancing; those of Germany and the Anglo-Saxon races are entirely different,—not so melodious perhaps, but by certain repetitions, . and peculiar methods of being sung, impressing one with a sense of stability, firmness and great reserve power; those of Russia and Poland differ again, and so these folk-songs are peculiarly char-acteristic of the nation producing them. The reason for this is obvious. These songs are produced spontaneously, almost invol-untarily, not according to any fixed type or design,—they come from the very heart of the people and hence are truly an index to their life. Simultaneously with the production of these folk-songs, there come into existence, series of notes which bear a certain re-lation of pitch, one to the other. These series we now call "Scales." Of course, the original scales were very different from those in use THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY 67 at the present day; they were very rude, and consisted of probably three or four notes separated at what is technically termed an in-terval of a fourth or fifth. Another noteworthy mark of this period is the great difference existing between the prominent types of music, such as symphony, sonata, oratorio and song. These types are subdivided and each subdivision receives distinctive treatment and differs from the others. For example, piano music has come to comprise calibres, nocturnes, lyrics of all kinds, dances of various sorts, and almost endless varieties. In the opera we find, the grand, the comic, the buffa and other national and distinctive types. The differentiation of forms (if I may use the term) goes on continually. The resources of this age are immense ; materials are at hand for mankind to ex-press anything he wants to. Owing to the fact that there are so many different types of music in this present age, it is impossible in a sketch like this to adequately describe even the principal of them ; so I have selected one particular form, and one with which we are all familiar,—the modern song. Nowhere else is the tendency to use characteristic expression more displayed than in the typical modern song or ballad. Songs there have been all through the history of music; it is like a thread that runs through all the periods of the develop-ment of the art, but it has only been in comparatively recent years that a musical system has been devised which is elastic enough to admit of every mood and emotion of the composer or performer. Composers in earlier times did not pay much regard to the words which they set to music; they regarded them as a certain number of syllables which would admit of being set to a singable tune. They thought their tunes ofmuch more importance than the words ; hence they paid little or no attention to either the accent of the syllables or to the sentiment expressed. The songs were tune and tune only. But as new resources in harmony were used and tonal-ity became better understood, under various influences, the final expansion and perfection of the form as we have it to-day, was reached. The names of three great modern song composers stand out pre-eminent; they are Schubert, Schuman and Brahms. The works of these three great masters of song are properly called ' 'classical.'' They are the best. And iu their works many illustrations of charac-teristic expression may be found. "Grelchen a?)i Spi?mrade," by 68 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Schubert, affords a good example. The words which are set to music are by Goethe. The story of the song is this: Margaret sits at her spinning-wheel and sings of her absent lover. And notice that the accompaniment throughout the song is very suggestive of the hum of the spinning-wheel. As she sings she begins to describe him. She tells of the beauty of his form, the soft glance of his eye, the melody of his voice, and finally the culmination of the climax is reached when she says, " [/?id Ach! sein Kuss!" Here the hum-ming accompaniment ceases: the music moves in a progression through a series of chords until the highest emotional point of the acutely sensitive harmony is reached on the word "Kuss;" there is ahold on the note to this word, succeeded by a short pause, then the music drops gently to the deep bass of silence and reflec-tion ; the accompaniment is taken up again but brokenly, as though suggestive of sobs or sighs, then the original accompaniment and melody is begun again and the song moves on. There are many more examples which could be cited. But there is another kind of modern song with which we are even yet more familiar—the so-called "popular" song. Who can give the cause, the philosophy of the popular song ? It grows up almost in a single night it seems, and b}r the next morning everybody is whistling it. Probably some music-hall singer with her own picturesque personality first sings it; the people are pleased both with the singer and the song—and in a few days it has spread over the entire country. Many of these popular songs are worth-less— of no merit neither in the music nor sentiment expressed. But once in a while a real gem is found among the pile of rubbish. These few songs are the ones that endure. These are the good old songs "which are sung as much now as at anytime of their exist-ence. They will always be found to be those which have not sim-ply pleased the ear but also touched the heart. There is a chord in the heart of every one which responds at once to "Home, Sweet Home." "Annie I^aurie" will endure as long as the English language remains in existence. The dying turn, not to the music of symphony societies, but to "Rock of Ages." And so there are other examples of these songs which survive. Some one has well said, "Strauss may set the feet to dancing, Wagner please the brain, Mozart delight the ear, but nothing can touch the heart like the "good old songs." —F. '00. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 69 EDITOR'S DESK. FOR quite a while Gettysburg has not been making marked progress in athletics. Our alumni have heard time and again of colleges, which a few years ago were glad to be called the rivals of Gettysburg, sending our teams home, beaten and discouraged. There are few things which so cast gloom over a college as the news that the team, in whom the college's reputation is centered, has lost game after game. It is not difficult to find the cause of this. Our teams themselves are not to blame, for they have done all that teams, unsupported, could do. The great need of Gettysburg is a permanent coach, one who can stir up among the students sharp competition in athletic sports. Every one true to Gettysburg will thank the Pen and Sivord for its generous offer of $75.00 to help pay the salary of a permanent coach. Athletics begin to brighten up again; the students realize that a loyal hand is helping them and we feel that under the impulse of enthusiasm and college spirit, our teams will hereafter make the reputation of Gettysburg what it once was and what it must be. A new feature or rather a revived feature of college life now presents itself to the colleges of Pennsylvania. A great revival of inter-collegiate debates has taken firm hold upon our higher institutions of learning. A strong point in favor of these debates is the preparation for them, which will put life into college liter-ary societies. (Comparatively few colleges have live societies). Probably no study in the curriculum of any college can prepare a student to think so quickly and so powerfully, as debate. But as the excellent mental training of debate is too well known to speak of, suffice it to say that Gettysburg feels the impulse stirring her sister colleges and is preparing to act her part in contests not far distant. A word on April is not out of place. April is the great war month of Americans. Lexington, the beginning of the Revolu-tion, was fought in April; Ft. Sumpter was first fired on in April; the late war with Spain began in April. Many other im-portant events, e. g., the inauguration of Washington, the sur- 7o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. render of Lee, the assassination of Lincoln occurred in April, but the fact which makes April mean so much to us, is that in it our greatest wars began. Although Philo and Phrena are not what they should be and our athletics at present are somewhat below high water mark, we are greatly pleased to witness the loyalty of Gettysburg students. Nearly every man is intensely interested in Gettysburg's reputa-tion. This spirit of earnestness about the honor of our college is sure to result in good and our alumni may well be proud of their Alma Mater, since in the midst of the present circumstances,— when the work of literary societies and athletics is hardly worthy of Gettysburg—the students remain so loyal to the Orange and Blue. In the early part of March, Gettysburg was entertained at a lecture on physiognomy, delivered by Prof. A. E. Willis. Natur-ally, Prof. Willis maintained extreme views upon the subject. The lecture was regarded as interesting rather than instructive, nevertheless we believe that the audience was profited. *^2> FRANCIS SCOTT KEY'S MONUMENT. OUR National Anthem, The Star-Spangled Banner, owes very little to chance. It was an emanation of a patriotic fer-vor as sincere and natural as it was simple and noble. It sprung from one of those glorious inspirations which coming to an author unbidden, seizes at once upon the hearts and minds of men. The occasion seemed to have been created for the very purpose. Key's song was the very child of battle; it was rocked by the can-non in the cradle of the deep, its swaddling clothes were the stars and stripes; its coming was heralded by shot and shell. We know too well the story and circumstances which ushered it into the world. Key had obtained permission of the President to go to the English Commander, under a flag of truce, to obtain the release of a friend who had been charged of some offence and car-ried off prisoner. He was received by the English Commander THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 71 and obtained the release of his friend, but as the advance upon Baltimore was to be made that night, they were detained until morning. Key did not leave the deck that night and during the time the poem began to form in his mind. He finished the poem in the boat that took him to shore. The next day it was published by the Baltimore American. The poem tells its own story and never a truer one came from an heroic soul, powder-stained and dipped, as it were, in sacred blood. To the "Francis Scott Key Association" is due the tardy justice of erecting a monument to the famous author. Within four years they collected the money and erected the monument over the remains of Key and his wife. Hitherto unmarked except in the humblest way, their final resting place has been at last separated from among surrounding multi-tudes of less distinguished graves to be at once an altar and shrine known among men wherever liberty makes her home. The mon-ument is simple in design, nevertheless the whole effect of the design is an elaboration. Key is represented on shipboard by the "dawn's early light" and when he sees that the flag is there, his attitude is one of delight and exultation, as with his right arm he indicates the fact to his companions, while with the other he holds his hat aloft in salute to the starry flag. The right arm holds a staff with the Stars and Stripes pending in deep folds. It was a very impressive sight when Key's great-great-granddaughter un-veiled the monument. "The Star-Spangled Banner" was played and the words were taken up and sung by thousands of patriotic souls. —R. W. DOTY, '99. KEE MAR. Kee Mar College, Home of Beauty, I've no fault to find with thee; I have been to see thy ladies, and they've quite enamored me; True it is, I must confess it, yet I know you will agree When I say that since my visit, I must correspond with thee. Fairest flower of God's creation, I have yet to speak to thee; Matters not if thou dislike it, 'tis the truth—then let it be. If one thought above another makes my heart leap from its place, "Tis the thought of my fond darling, my sweet darling, lovely Grace. Heaven's choice of fairest beauty, angel's voice of sweet refrain; Thou hast dropped thy part in Nature, thou hast reached a higher plane, Few there are of earth transcendent, fewer still that are sublime; But thou, Sicely, art supernal, Sicely dear, thou art divine. 72 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Queen of earth and light of heaven, sweetest girls that Kee Mar knows, Loveliest flower in God's garden, from whose lips sweet nector flows; Driving care cannot o'erpower it, brutish impulse not suppress Love and honor, faith and virtue, that reposes in my Bess. Charming gem of pearly slendor, I've no fault to find with form, All my thoughts soar earth transcendent, imprisoned in thy snowy arms. Should you only give me welcome, over thee I'd then unfurl Stars and Stripes, and battle ever, fighting for my priceless Pearl. Sweetest bud of fragile beauty, I've no fault to find with thee. Matters not tho' thou canst never let thy love light shine on me. Matters not tho' Heaven should hide thee, yet thy spirit I'll caress, Caring not for any other, other than my darling Jess. Full grown flower of glorious beauty, how I long to press thy hand; Thou hast set my heart to fluttering, fluttering by thy magic wand. Should I, traveling o'er life's desert find a flower not born of earth, I would call it for my Sara, Sara mine of matchless worth. —BUTTERWORTH, '99. THE VALUE OF GOOD LITERATURE. IT is very essential to the success of every student that he should realize the great importance of the study of literature, assign to it a very prominent place among his studies, and try to familiarize himself, as much as possible, with the best literature he can procure. If one wishes to become an accomplished scholar, he must have a thorough knowledge of the English classics, and become familiar with the lives and works of all the great writers in the world's history, both ancient and modern. It is impossible to understand and comprehend clearly the En-glish classics, unless we have a thorough knowledge of the classics of the ancient Greeks and Romans, for their writings are but the models which all the great writers since their time have imitated, since that time when the blind Homer, traveling as a wandering minstrel, sang his immortal verses to admiring listeners in the dif-ferent cities of ancient Hellas, or when Virgil cast an unfading lustre over the age in which he lived, by his elegant compositions. Again, while the student is familiarizing himself with the world's best literature, at the same time he is pursuing a course of study which will strengthen and develop the mind, and he is also becoming acquainted with the customs and manners of the times which the author describes. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 73 The study also serves to form in the student's rnind a larger vocabulary, so that he may have a ready, versatile use of words, and in the practical lines of the writer he will learn many max-ims of morality and beautiful descriptive passages which will be serviceable to him in after life. Of the many authors and writers noted for the sublimity and simplicity of their works and writings, and especially those which touch the heart, Horace, Virgil, Burns, Tennyson, Longfellow and Whittier may be mentioned. Also in the study of the best literature, the student comes in contact with the mighty minds of old, the representatives of the greatest intelligence that ever existed in the history of the world, and these should inspire the student to do grand and noble deeds during his life so that he may make for himself a name for great-ness, that will be immortal. Many great men have been inspired and incited by the study of the great classics, such as Homer's Iliad, Virgil's ^Eneid, Milton's Paradise Lost, 01 Tennyson's In Memoriam. The study of the best literature also cultivates a literary taste so that one may see literature in all things, especially in nature with all her suggestiveness, as it was in the case of Burns, and cause one to exclaim with Byron : "There is a pleasure in the pathless woods, There is a rapture on the lonely shore, There is society where none intrudes, By the deep dark sea and music in its roar; I love not man the less but nature more." Thus we find that one of the most important elements enter-ing into the true success of any student, is familiarizing himself with the literature of his own language, which can be accom-plished only after we have a proper knowledge of the literature of the ancients. —P. S. H., '01. ATHLETICS. ONE of the most pleasant athletic events of the year was the exhibition of the Sons of Hercules given on Friday even-ing, March 17th. The work done was of a high stan-dard, and the program was varied by music by the glee and man-dolin clubs, a boxing match between Richards, '01, and Floto, 74 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. '03, and a basket-ball game between the Sophomores and Fresh-men. The team gave exhibitions of work on the mats, horizon-tal bar, and horse, with a number of pyramids. Numerous specialties were introduced by different members of the team, one of the prettiest of which was the club-swinging by Traub and Scott, which would be hard to excel. The basket-ball game was rendered interesting by the fact that the teams had played to a tie some weeks ago. It was marked, however, by loose playing on both sides, and won by the Sophomores by a score of 12 to 5. Throughout, it was an evening of genuine entertainment, and was witnessed by a very large crowd, none of whom went away dis-appointed. The members of the team are: Koller, '00, leader, Krafft, '98, Bumbaugh, '99, Straw, '99, Traub, '00, Bottiger, '00, Claney, '00, Stock, '00, Bickel, '02, Smith, '02, Smyser, Sr., '02, and Smyser, Jr., '02. At a recent meeting of the Athletic Association the matter of a coach for baseball and track was considered, and it was decided that we procure one. The offer, by Pen and Sword, of $75.00 was accepted, and a committee was appointed to visit the boys for the purpose of procuring as much more as may be necessary. The committee consists of Herman, Penrod and Leisenring, and they have already gotten a number of subscriptions. This is a matter of vital importance to our athletic interests, and it is hoped that every man will go down into his pocket when these men visit him. The committee to secure the coach is, Albers, Weigle, Imler, and Ney. They are in communication with several men, and there will no doubt be a coach at work by the time this appears in print. Manager Weigle has added another game to the baseball schedule—with the Pennsylvania R. R. Y. M. C. A. at Philadel-phia, on Saturday, June 3d. This is the only non-college game of the season, and the first meet with this association in any form of athletics. It is always represented by strong teams, and iu baseball is regarded as one of the crack clubs of the city. This will be one of the best games of the season. Our team has been practicing on Prep grounds since the middle of March. There is a good list of applicants, and we may hope to have a team which will add to the glory of Gettysburg. We are fortunate in having begun out-door work so early, and this fact should give an added impetus to the work. Manager Ney has scheduled the dual meet with Dickinson for ' THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 75 Wednesday, May 17th. The meet at Philadelphia, to which we send a team, will take place Saturday, April 29th. No baseball games have been arranged for either of these dates, in order that the best men may be on both teams. This is the department in which we are in the greatest need of training, and it is hoped that every man will take a proper interest and work hard, with or without a coach. —W. AMONG THE EXCHANGES. THE March number of the Bucknell Mirror is devoted to the literary societies of that university. It contains histories of the societies, a history of inter-collegiate debate at Buck-nell, and a symposium on the value of the training received in their halls, all the articles being by prominent alumni. The en-tire number is well gotten up, and is of special value and interest in these days when the worth of such societies seems to be for-gotten. It will be well for Gettysburg men to read it carefully. Another interesting number which March has brought to our table is that of The College Student, which is devoted to the alumni of F. and M. It contains articles by many alumni, and bio-graphical sketches of some former professors. The issue will surely attain its purpose as expressed by the editors: "We would have the alumni feel that they are still a part of us—of old F. and M.; and that The College Student is as much theirs as ours." Among periodicals issued monthly, and containing literary and news functions, the Haverfordian ranks with the best. It is neat and attractive in appearance, and the due proportion between literary productions and news is always preserved. The Kalends is always good, but the February number deserves special notice. The stories "Before the Fourteenth" and ''A Knight of the Slums" are above the usual standard of college fiction. The season is kept in mind by a number of dainty "Val-entines," as well as by an article on "The Trip,"—which de-lightfully reminds one of Jerome K. Jerome Americanized. The Lesbian Herald is another publication of "our sisters" which is always a welcome visitor. "The Entertainment of the Great Uncle Jasper," and "He, She, and Brooks" are worthy of favorable notice. 76 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. "Donatello in the Marble Fawn" is a well-written bit of liter-ary study in the February Pharetra. It also contains some pretty valentine verse under the title "From Cupid's Bow-string." We are glad to see that college magazines are becoming more and more the product of the students. In but few and those of small institutions do we find the long discussions of obtruse sub-jects by professors and learned alumni which were once thought indispensable. In the realm of fiction, too, there seems to be a general progress, and the stories are getting away from the mor-bid style which used to infallibly mark a college man's produc-tion. EDITOR'S SCISSORS. FOUR EPITAPHS. Deep wisdom—Swelled head— Brain fever—He's dead—[a Senior]. Fair one leaves him—Hope's fled— Heart broken—He's dead—[a Junior]. Went skating—tis said Floor hit him—He's dead—[a Sophomore]. Milk famine—half fed- Starvation—He's dead—[a Freshman]. —Ex. THE PHYSIOGNOMIST'S DREAM. He walks erect, his laugh is sweet— 'Isn't he perfect from head to feet! And oh! those eyes!" His nose, just right— His brains are simply "out of sight!" Its name is "Sport." Her eyes are blue, her teeth are pearls, Her hair flows free in flaxen curls! Her person, neither large nor thin— Her voice is like the violin! The dreamer calls her "Queen of Girls." He has no hair, his look is meek, You count his bones in either cheek— His mouth's a cave, his ears are fans, His feet are not—his hands, "banans." Our friend, the dreamer, calls it "Freak." PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century Double-Feed Fountain Pen. Fully Warranted. J6 Kt. Gold Pen, Indium Pointed. GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College. PRICE LIST. No. 1. No. 1. No. 3. No. 3. Chased, long or short $2 00 Gold Mounted 3 00 Chased 3 00 Gold Mounted 4 00 Spiral, Black or Mottled »2 50 Twist, " " 2 SO Hexagon, Black or Mottled 2 SO Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted 5 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO., WHITEWATER, WIS. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to show them toyou. Agood local agent wanted in every school. RINTING "-"Bo- tb Croxel. Dealer in ^ine (groceries cmb Hottons «_«-4Jork Street. Teachers. Union Teachers' Agencies of America REV. L. D. BASS, D. D., Manager. Pittsburg, Pa., Toronto, Can., New Orleans, La., New York, N. Y., Washington, D. C, San Francisco, Cal., Chicago, 111., St. Louis, Mo., Denver, Col. There are thousands of positions to be filled. We had over 8,000 vacancies last sea-son. Unsurpassed facilities for placing teachers in any part of the U. S. or Canada. One fee registers in 9 offices. More vacan-cies than teachers. Address all applications toPITTSBURG, PA. MUMPER & BENDER Furniture Cabinet Making, Picture Frames Baltimore St., GETTYSBURG, PA. .GO TO. fjotel (Gettysburg Barber Sfyop. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON. WTJ /"■/"YTWVDT Successor to . f. V-.WJJWIVJ., Simon J. Codori Dealer in Beef, Pork, Lamb, Veal, Sausage. Special rates to Clubs. York St., GETTYSBURG. .QO TO. CHAS. E. BARBEHENN, Barber, In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. Subscribe for tfye .©ettjjsburg. ZTCercury FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. Baseball ^applies, .SpalDing's Xeague JBall, dlMts, d&asfce, Etc. Managers should send for samples and special rates. 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Hazel P. Boyle ; The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection include interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, WeberState University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories cover various topics and chronicle the personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ; 51p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 video disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; i Oral History Program Hazel P. Boyle Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 17 November 2011 ii Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Hazel P. Boyle Interviewed by Rebecca Ory Hernandez 17 November 2011 Copyright © 2012 by Weber State University, Stewart Library iii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber and Davis County Communities Oral History Collection includes interviews of citizens from several different walks of life. These interviews were conducted by Stewart Library personnel, Weber State University faculty and students, and other members of the community. The histories date back to the early settlement of North Ogden, and cover various topics including the History of Fort Buenaventura, city government affairs, controversial issues, Latinos in Ogden, personal everyday life experiences and other recollections regarding the history of the Weber and Davis County areas. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Hazel P. Boyle, an oral history by Rebecca Ory Hernandez, 17 November 2011, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. Edward and Hazel Boyle July 5, 1952 Edward and Hazel Boyle October 15, 2009 1 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Hazel P. Boyle. The interview was conducted on November 17, 2011, by Rebecca Ory Hernandez. In this interview, Hazel speaks of her early years in Colombia, South America, and of meeting her husband, Edward C. "Ted" Boyle. Hazel tells her oral history, including her life with Ted, traveling and living around the world. Hazel worked with Ted to cultivate important business relationships in the international banking industry with Citigroup. Hazel is now retired and lives in St. George, Utah with her husband. ROH: We are at the home of Ted and Hazel Boyle in St. George, Utah. Today is November 9, 2011. Present are Ted and Hazel Boyle and Rebecca Ory- Hernandez. We'll be talking about Hazel's life story today but I'd like to start kind of in the middle of your story. HB: Actually, I was born and raised in Bogota, Colombia. They named me Hazel Patricia Roskruge Betancourt Mejia before I married Boyle. Those were my maiden names. In Colombia, when you're born it's a very special occasion, so my godmother gave me sapphire earrings. I was six months old before I was baptized in a humungous church called San Victorino, which was in the center of Bogota. Afterwards, I'm sure there was a party. My birth father was German. He had to go to war for his country, so he left Colombia. I understand that he was very well-to-do because he had a ranch and they used to go there on weekends. I don't remember that. He left when I was two years old so I have no recollection of what he looked like, only what my aunts 2 used to tell me. They said he was very handsome and he had olive skin and blond hair and beautiful green eyes. When I was five years old, my mother met a wonderful Englishman and they went to Panama to get married. He was my dad. I loved him very much. ROH: What part of England was he from? HB: He was from Cornwall, Wales. He came from a very big family. There were five young Englishman who came to Colombia together and one of them was my father. He was a gold-mining engineer, so he had a very big job because he dragged all the gold of the country into the Banco de la Republica, which was the biggest bank in the country at the time. We had a very nice life. I had a very fun childhood. After we got out of school we would go up north where there was the camping and there was beautiful home. I learned how to play tennis and I had my own horse when I turned ten. We used to travel up to the mountains in the north. We used to have lots of fun. One day there was a terrible earthquake and I was thrown out of my cot. When we went up north, we would stay at a nice family home and we had cots to sleep in. when that earthquake came, it must have been about four o'clock in the morning and I was thrown out of my cot. There was a lot of commotion and yelling. My mother had a camera and when we looked, there was an enormous cloud outside. I think it was the effect of the earthquake on the volcano. So my mother took a picture. When we went back to the city of Cali, which was where we were living at the time, my mother won a contest with Kodak because of that picture. 3 ROH: What year was the earthquake? HB: It was 1938 or 1939. I was born January 6, 1935 and I was about four years old. Then, I went to private schools because we did not have public schools like there are in the United States. I had my primary education in Cali, Colombia in a prominent Gimnasio Femenino. As a matter of fact, my oldest daughter went there. It's kind of fun because the high school had grown really big and so they were in a different building. It used to be a tiny place downtown. Anyway, we came back to Cali when I was pregnant with Linda, our second daughter. There was another earthquake. When you get married in Colombia, you receive many beautiful gifts—many things that are really sterling silver—and so we had the trays on a ledge in the dining room. Well, I was beginning to have labor pains the night of the earthquake and when the earthquake happened, all those trays came down and made so much noise that my labor pains started going faster. We went to the hospital and I think Linda was born the next day. We moved to another home and had many friends. Then my family had to move to Bogota because my father was retiring. He had finished dredging all of the Rio Cauca and I wish I had been older and more able to pay attention to how they made the bars of gold that went to the bank. My father always had to travel with security people and he always wore a gun. When he would arrive very early in the morning, he would always unarm the gun. One night, he was very tired and he didn't disarm the gun. It was Sunday morning and one of my aunts was playing the piano, my father was downstairs, another of my aunts was upstairs 4 and my mother was taking a bath. In our trips up north, my mother had decided to bring a little Indian girl with us as a playmate for me; her name was Yoselina. She was very cute and my same age. She would help with the chores and things, but she was my playmate. Well this Sunday morning she was fooling around and looking for my dad's lifesavers because he always carried lifesavers and we loved them. Well we were all downstairs and we heard a sound like a pop and my father's face went as white as the wall and he ran up the stairs because he knew what it was—we didn't. He found Yoselina—she had been looking for the lifesavers and found the gun that he had left the clip in. She must have pulled the trigger. It went right through her head and killed her instantly. My room was next to my dad's upstairs and they wouldn't let me up there. That was a lesson for us. I remember that President Roosevelt was campaigning for president in the United States and we were all wearing pins that said "President Roosevelt" even though he was an English man. He had lived in Colombia many years. Anyways, it was time for my dad to retire and so my parents went to Bogota. They had two homes there. It was a very nice area, probably like thirty minutes away from the center of the city. They put me in a dormitory for my last three months of the school year while they moved to the other home. I would get a big basket every week that had homemade bread and homemade jelly. I didn't like to eat the food at the dormitory. When it was time for me to go to Bogota, my father came over to get me. My father's name was Edward Pierce Roskruge. When we got to the airport, I had my ticket and a friend of my father's said, "Edward, is it imperative that your 5 daughter goes today to Bogota?" He said, "No, she can leave tomorrow or the next day." So my father gave him my ticket so that he could go. That was the biggest air crash that Amanca has had in many years and I was saved because my father gave my ticket to his friend. The next day we tried again. I flew to Bogota and we went to our home. My parents had to think about schooling for me so they put me into a school in downtown Bogota and they gave me a test. I passed everything, so they let me skip ninth grade and go into tenth grade. We were there only one year and then my parents transferred me to a school in Marimount, which was in the outskirts of Bogota. It was a nice school and it was imperative that we speak English at school but I didn't like it and never spoke it. I was in the ballet and I had music lessons and I directed music at the conservatory. They kept me close to home—I could have friends over to spend the night but I could never go spend the night at somebody else's home. It was kind of sad. When I had my daughters, I said, "You don't know how lucky you are. You fight among each other and I never had anyone to fight with and my parents never let me go to anybody's house." I think I was a very good student. I was obedient and respectful. I didn't get into any trouble. When I was fifteen years old I had my first dance and party. I graduated in June when I was almost fifteen years old—which is very young. My father wanted me to go to college in England but I was so young that they decided to put me into a secretarial school. I went there for almost two years and I learned how to type and to be an accountant and to do shorthand. 6 ROH: Where was this school? HB: It was in Bogota. Then I was sixteen and my dad said, "There's a job at Citibank that I would like you to go and apply for." I went and they hired me on the spot. That's how I ended up working for Citibank. There were three vice presidents. One was from Barcelona, Spain and he spoke very good English. So that was how I started. Christmas came and I had made lots of friends at the bank. I had seen him [referring to Ted Boyle] come to my boss at the bank with a humungous book to be signed and I thought, "Oh, he is the cutest thing and so skinny, I want to fatten him up." [Laughter] That Christmas, I bought presents for all the girls at the bank. That made me really happy. My mother was always doing civil work. We had a gate around our house and you had to ring the bell at the gate. There was always enough food for us so people would come and ring the bell and mother would bring food for them. I grew up being conscious of people who didn't have money. We didn't have a middle-class in Colombia at the time. Either you were very poor or you were well-to-do. Ted was engaged to somebody else and I was dating a boy who was a pilot who had given me a bracelet—it was not a ring but it was like I was spoken for. I got sick with roseola and I was at home with my friend Graciela and my parents had gone to the movies. The doorbell rang and it was my boss with Ted. I invited them in because I had Graciela as a chaperone. They came in and Ted liked my friend very much. One time he invited me to tea and we went and he said to me, "You know that I'm engaged to be married." I said, "That's fine, it 7 doesn't bother me at all." Little by little we started going out together. But first, he called my mother because that was the nice thing to do and in Colombia you have to be chaperoned at all times. I heard her asking this question, "What are your intentions?" I thought, "My goodness, what is she doing?" I didn't know who she was talking to. Finally she said, "We would like to meet you," and so he was invited to dinner and that was when we got permission to start going out. ROH: How old were you at this point? HB: I was seventeen. At Christmas my parents had a party and I think Ted had written to his girlfriend and told her that he had met someone and kind of broke the engagement. She didn't take that very well so she decided to come to Bogota from New York. He was so nervous. The bank always had a big party at the vice presidents house and she was there, too. So I was sitting on the sofa with my friends and they didn't bother him at all, and he was smoking cigars—he had never smoked anything or had a drop of alcohol in his life—and he was just…oh! It was so awkward. He sent her in a taxi that night. At that time she must have known, "This is it." She looked at me and I looked at her and she must have known who I was. Well he sent her in the taxi and he walked me home. After that, he invited me to go dancing at a night club. After that he gave me his fraternity pin. I liked him so much and thought he was so cute. Later on, it became a real engagement. I had been presented in society at a party where we wear a big beautiful gown. ROH: What color was your gown? HB: White. My hair was all done in the beauty parlor, too. 8 ROH: How old were you? HB: Probably about sixteen. I was very mature in a sense because I was always with older people. I was always with a group with my parents and their friends. You were always with a group—never alone—in those days. Soon enough, he proposed marriage. He asked my mother and he asked my dad. He thought I was very young. We were supposed to have been married in September when I was still seventeen, but he got a transfer in July. He said, "I don't want to go to Barranquilla without you!" So we had to rush with my trousseau. One day, he came in the bank and I said, "Ted, what is wrong with you?" He said, "Why?" I said, "You look yellow." He had hepatitis and he went to the bank doctor and was told that he should go home and they would go there to do the blood tests. They gave him a regime of what to eat. My dad took it on himself—he was retired but still had an office for doing some importing and exporting—and he took it on himself to come and visit Ted. They had a wonderful time. My dad taught him how to play bridge. He spent three months in bed. So we had to be in Barranquilla in July. We rushed through everything to be ready. It was a mixed marriage because I was a Catholic and he was a Mormon—a 'Jack Mormon.' So then the marriage was supposed to be in a beautiful church just four or five blocks from my house where I always went to mass. The priest said, "I'm sorry, I don't know anything about the Mormon religion, but you cannot be married in the church. You can be married on the steps of the church." This was in 1952. I said, "I am 9 not going to be married on the steps of the church." I went to my archbishop; he was a wonderful man. I told him what the problem was and he said, "Hazel, there is no problem. We have a brand new order of Catholic priests that are very modern." They were in a church on a different street. That church was very plain, not gaudy with saints and decorations. It had just one cross. We went to mass there a few times. So the priest there said, "Sure, we will come to your house. The only thing is you have to go to mass that morning and take the Sacrament because we can't bring that into your house." So my house was all beautiful and there were flowers all down the stairway. We had two living rooms. The organ was in one and we were married by the fireplace in the other. It had a curtain and everything. And unbeknownst to me, he had a book of Mormon he put inside the altar. Then there was a big luncheon that was catered. We were married and I went upstairs to change and he had to go through the servant's stairway to change. When it was time for me to leave, I had my doll under my arm and he said, "Where are you going with that?" and I said, "That's my Elizabeth, she's coming with me." He said, "OH no, you don't bring that with you." So I left it. That beautiful doll was giving to me when I first found out that there was not a Santa Clause. I was at a Christmas party and I heard my dog whimper and I woke up and saw someone putting out all my gifts and I cried so hard that night. I was so disappointed. The next morning I said, "Oh! Look what Santa Clause brought me!" I had to say something. But that was the Christmas I got my doll. It was humungous. They had to order it. It had a complete wardrobe of clothes and a swing that she could 10 swing on. She sat on a bed because my room had two twin beds. So she was with me and I had packed some of the clothes and he said, "No." We went to the airport and my good friend Alvarez Gomez loaned us a Mercedes Benz that was going to take us from the house to the airport. A lot of people followed us to the airport. We arrived in Barranquilla and we were met by his new boss. That's how my life changed completely. [Laughter] We spent two days in Barranquilla, then we went to the beach and it was beautiful. We spent two weeks there for our honeymoon. When you get married in the Catholic Church, you have to give thirteen gold coins to the church. I kept that, and the thirteen silver coins went to the curch. They were beautiful coins. The coins were in a box and one night I opened the box and there were only twelve and I was very upset. I told Ted I'd lost one of them. We would be in and out going sailing and going swimming at the beach. In our hotel, you had to go up some steps and through a gate and when I did, I saw something shiny. I looked and there was my thirteenth coin. Good luck. For me it was very symbolic.Ted was still recovering—he had been in bed sick for three months and then gotten married. He was still weak and convalescing. When we got to the apartment in Barranquilla, we had a maid—I didn't know how to cook. She was a marvelous cook. I learned how to make milkshakes and Ted loved ice cream so I would put in an egg and ice cream and milk and strawberries or raspberries. That would be to build him up little by little. That was our first place and it was a sweet little place. We met another newly married couple and we would spend time together. Ted would go play golf 11 and I would go swimming. Then he said, "I want you to learn how to play golf." I thought, "Well, alright." He's been a great influence on my life. He was thirteen years older than me and he was like a boss telling me what to do. Anyway, I learned how to play golf and then we could play with other couples. One time I was behind a tree and he was taking his drive and it hit me right across my leg. Of course it swelled and it was purple and green and yellow. He was really upset. We immediately went home and put ice on it—this was a Sunday. And on Monday we immediately went to the doctor. The doctor took a knife and cut it open and all this horrible stuff came out and Ted fainted. They fixed me and even to this day I have a scar and it still hurts. We moved to another apartment after that and we didn't have a maid. I had to teach myself how to cook. I got help from a lot of friends who were older. We would still play golf and one time we had friends visiting and after golf we went home to shower—this was when they were filming Green Fire with Stewart Grange, Grace Kelly and Paul Douglas. When we went to meet our friends at the bar, we had cokes and the waiter came to me and said, "Madam, the people in that corner would like you to join them for a drink." I looked over and there was Stewart Grange, Grace Kelly and Paul Douglas. So Ted and I and my friends went over to sit with them and soon enough they gave me their autograph, which I still have. She was beautiful. We used to have a group of American ladies at the hotel every Wednesday from 9:00 to 12:00 to fold bandages for the hospital. So when I went to the beauty parlor, she was sitting next to me and she remembered me. I said, "How would you like to join us and fold bandages with 12 American ladies?" She said, "Oh, I'd love to." And she came a couple of times. That was how I met Grace Kelly. It took us three years to have a child and they did tests on both of us and couldn't find anything wrong. Finally, they were going to blow my tubes but my friend said, "That's a terrible thing, Hazel." And I was petrified. But before that, a miracle happened and I got pregnant before they were going to do that. We had a welcoming party in Bogota. We flew in with our friends and it was a very nice party. IT was like a housewarming party. We had made all of these friends in Barranquilla and they invited us to Bogota. John Reed, who was a friend from Barranquilla and he had been transferred to be a manager of Sears in Bogota and he was the one who invited us. John told Ted, "I know you don't drink, but I want you to have some rum and coke and chug it all." So we went and he chugged the rum and coke and about five minutes later he started dancing and going wild and there was a table with glasses and he sat right on top of it. I thought, "Oh no! He's going to be all cut up." I don't know how, but he didn't have a cut; maybe because he was wearing heavy pants. But he was having a ball. About ten minutes later, he began to really feel awful. He was so sick. John Reed carried him outside and he was barfing everywhere and it was cold. It was terrible. Ted: The alcohol could have done me in at that altitude if they hadn't made me walk around. 13 HB: That trip was a blessing because the following week I was supposed to have the test for the blowing of my tubes, but I got pregnant so I didn't have to have the test. Anyways, we had a lot of fun and met a lot of nice people. ROH: Were you still working after you got married? HB: He was, but I wasn't. I was at home learning to cook and washing by hand—I had never washed anything in my life and we didn't have a washing machine. So I had the old seventy-eight records and I loved music. When I was a child, my parents took me to concerts and the theater and ballet and to opera. In our third house, we took over the rent from our friends, the Reeds, and we had a dog named Flash. We had a friend of Ted's from the States stay with us and I asked him what he would like to have. He said, "I would like whiskey on the rocks." So I went in the kitchen and I said, "Okay, what is whiskey on the rocks?" I figured rocks had to be the ice, but I got a big glass, not a small one like your supposed to use. I put in the ice and I put a jigger of whiskey and the glass wasn't full so I put in another jigger of whiskey so that it looked nice. We had dinner and everything was nice. Then at the end, he said, "Hazel, thank you so much for that lovely dinner, but next time, when someone asks for a whiskey on the rocks, you give them a small glass with three or four cubes of ice and only one jigger of whiskey, not two." So then I got a book on how to mix drinks. We did a lot of charity work. That was our mission, no matter what country we were in, we were always doing charity work for the hospitals, for the orphanages, and everything. ROH: Where do you think the desire to do that came from? 14 HB: I think that came from my mother. She was very giving. She had done a lot of social work out of the goodness of her heart. I think I inherited that from her. From Barranquilla we moved to Cali and I was expecting my second child. ROH: How far is it between those two cities? HB: You had to fly. Red It was three or four hundred miles. HB: When my in-laws came to Barranquilla for the first time, that was their first trip outside of the United States and they came to see their first granddaughter. We were living in a huge house because we were staying in Ted's boss's house while they were on vacation. I had learned how to make cakes and everything and the party was going on that night. I had gone to the market and there was a tiny tree for about twenty-five dollars and that was a lot of money. So I went home and I called a gardener and I said this is what we're going to do: I saw in the back room, a lamp pole and I told the gardener he was going to cut branches from a big tree and we were going to tie the branches to the stick and try to make a Christmas tree. He looked at me as if I had two heads. I said, "It's going to work. It's got to work." Sure enough, we tied the branches and it was a beautiful tree. We decorated it and put lights on it and put it in the family room where there was a lot of space. We borrowed tables and tablecloths and little lanterns. I cooked all day and when we went to the airport to get my mother and father in law, we told them we were going to have the party and there would be alcohol. We told them that when the waiter asked them what they wanted to drink, they should ask for ginger ale. I told them that people here were very happy and liked 15 to dance. She said, "What a beautiful Christmas tree!" and I told them what it was and they couldn't believe that it was homemade. ROH: What did your in-laws think of the party? HB: They thought it was just great. Lawrence loved to dance and he had the most beautiful voice. He always sang, "Some Enchanted Evening," and it was just beautiful. He danced with all the women and the men went to his mother and danced with her. It was lovely. Ted Tell them about entertaining the baseball team. His name was Brooks Robinson and he was an all-time pick in the American league as one of the greatest players of all time. HB: But who was the trainer? Ted Don Hefner, he played for the Yankees. He was the manager and close friend of mine. They played ball in Colombia in the winter. HB: It was spring training. We were in the second house that we took over from the Reeds and I felt sorry for those boys so I cooked a very nice Thanksgiving dinner and we played games afterwards. We played Scrabble until three or four in the morning. We would go to all the baseball games and we had a box seat. One night we were at one of the games and I tried to get up and a friend behind me said, "Hazel, put your shawl up." I was staining because I was pregnant with my second child. We went right home and the doctor came and he gave me vitamin B and said, " you're going to stay in bed for the next week." I was really upset because I didn't want to lose the baby. I stayed in bed and everything was okay. I had a nice baby girl. 16 Ted You have to get back to Barranquilla when the stove exploded. HB: I don't think that's funny. I had lobster prepared and I had one strapless bra because I used to wear a halter dress and it was kind of dirty so I washed it so I could wear it that evening. I was hurrying and I said, "Ted, you have to help me. I've washed it and dried it in towels, but you have to open the door in the oven and hold it there to dry." Well, it was the worst thing we could have done. TB: I kept opening the oven to see how it was doing—like it was roasting—and it blew all the lights out in the house. HB: I had asked him to open the oven and just hold it there but he kept going in and out of the oven and that's what did it. So they arrived and it was dark and I had candles on the table. Well, John was the manager of Sears so he went to the store and opened it and got the fuse and came back and changed the fuse. We still kept the lights down because the candles were beautiful. Anyway, so we're now in Cali. It was a wonderful place. When you come into a new place, the bank welcomes you and had a big party and you got to meet people and be reacquainted with people. TB: Tell them about our party when we dressed up as Jayne Mansfield. HB: I decided, "We always have beautiful fashion shows for the women, let's do something different and have the men do a fashion show with women's clothes." It was a hit. It was so funny. Here comes John Heath with a beautiful little hat and beautiful everything—we had picked out everything—but he had his own shoes and socks and garters up to here. When he came out, the people just roared—it was hilarious. Ted was part of the ceremony, so I fixed him up like Jayne 17 Mansfield. I made two balloons and a bra to hold them and he was wearing a skirt of mine—that's how skinny he was. Anyway, he had a skirt of mine, my moccasins, my baby socks, and I bought a white mop to be the hair. And I gave him a black sweater to show his big boobs. So he got up there and the master of ceremonies was a friend and knew what was going on, so he went up there with a big pin and—boom—he popped one of his boobs and all the water spilled and Ted got soaked. Then we had a bride and groom and the bride was pregnant. She was a very tall man and we made him a wedding dress and the groom was a little short guy. All those things would bring money for charity. Like for grafting machines for all those children who would get burned. ROH: Why would they get burned? HB: Because they lived in these little huts with a metal cylinder over the fire and it was dirt floor but it was clean—they would sweep it every day. The families were maybe three children and a mother and a father. The mother and father both had to work and the mother would leave a big pot of soup—that was their maintenance, they would put potatoes and corn and vegetables in the soup— then they would tell the oldest child to stir it. The child would be maybe eight years old and they were old stoves and many times the hot soup would spill on the child and he would be taken to the hospital. It was such a sad thing. I worked at the hospital as a volunteer and at the orphanage and I enjoyed every minute. I would take books and magazines and I would read to them. Going into the ward where they were burned was so sad to see. It smelled, too. 18 At Christmas time we would make pajamas for the boys and pajamas for the girls and we would have a comb, a doll, and a car for the boys, and candy and soap that would be the gifts for the children. We wrapped each one individually. Everyone would bring some of the gifts. Then my second daughter was born. Kimmy is fifty-two and she lives here with us. With her first husband she had a boy and a girl. She's in the military and she lost her baby. We just found out that it was the doctor's fault because they never did an ultrasound and when she was seven months pregnant she had a car accident but when the doctor examined her head, she was fine. But they didn't check the baby. What happened was the baby was not getting enough blood because Tara had a blood clot. After the accident, Tara had labor pains and they would give her injections so the baby wouldn't be born, but they didn't know what was going on inside. The baby was not getting enough oxygen or blood. TB: Tell about the beauty pageant coffee queen. HB: I modeled a lot for the American women. IT was always at the country club and there were pictures and all of that. I had children, but I was still very small. I ran for the title of Beauty Coffee Queen in Cali. I had a lot of friends and they voted for me. I think that's how I became the queen. All of the votes cost a dollar so it was a fundraiser. So I was crowned the coffee queen of Colombia, but I never drank coffee because I didn't like it. In my home, the maids had coffee and my mother probably had coffee. Our hot chocolate was real chocolate—very different 19 from what you get here—but we had always had tea at 4:00 in the afternoon with tea cakes and sandwiches. So I loved tea. ROH: Tell me a little more about the coffee queen pageant. What was it a fundraiser for? HB: For the hospital. ROH: Where was the contest held? HB: It was at a club called the Club Colombia because they had a big runway. That was where we would model. I was representing the American women of Cali and I ran with four or five other lovely girls. What got me to win was because I had so many friends who paid the money. That brought a lot of money. That was what we did for the hospital and the orphanage and the children's burn ward. When we were transferred to Medellin—I'll have to show you a map. Bogota is a big metropolitan city, not like what people think it is. The people there dress very well and are always proud of how they look. ROH: Your father being from England, was your family all from Colombia originally? HB: They came from Corsica, France. They were probably my great-grandparents and they came to Medellin, which is a very nice city. ROH: Do you know what brought them to Colombia from France? HB: No, but I know they were well-to-do and they lived in a nice home. My mother was raised much like I was. She was a very closed person. I never found out that I had a German dad. I looked at my birth certificate and it said my name, but my last name was Kanold and then it dated his mother and father. I asked my mother and she said, "Don't ask me." There was not a picture or anything. It was 20 like he never existed. [Her maiden name was Betancourt Mejia and her birth father was Colombian – Edward Pearce Roskruge was her second husband.] But I have German silverware and beautiful tablecloths that she had. That is all I have of him. I asked my aunt about him and she told me he was handsome with olive skin and dirty blonde hair. I think, "Why did I not get his green eyes?" I've always wanted green eyes. He had a ranch on the outskirts of Bogota that was called Potosi. He used to go there on weekends. My mother had her own capital—she had her own money. She never explained; she just said, "You don't need to know this." So what I think is that when he left for Germany, she must have sold the ranch and the cattle and the horses. I think she used that because she was always doing business—she would loan money and people would pay her back. She was a business woman. Anyways, so we arrived in Medellin, Colombia. We had one of our daughters there and she was a surprise. She was named Sarah Patricia because when I was pregnant I had the measles and the word for measles en español es 'saranpion.' So they were at the breakfast table one morning, talking about what we were going to name our new daughter and Kimmy, my third daughter, said, "Why not Sarah for 'saranpion,' my mother's second name—Patricia, and then Boyle?" So that's how she got named. This is another miracle in my life. I was tending my three daughters with the measles and we had a wonderful maid who had a daughter—we educated her daughter. But the fever came and I called my mom and told her. She said, 21 "Hazel, you should never have done that," because whenever there was ever measles or whooping cough in school, the children would bring it home and they would keep me home so that I would not get anything. So I got a very high fever and Ted cannot handle anything that goes wrong—he gets mad, instead of understanding. So I got up that morning, it was about 4:00, and I knew there was trouble. He got up and went to work and I didn't say anything to him. Then my maid came and gave me a hug and finally at 8:00 I called my doctor. He called the pharmacist and the pharmacist came and gave me two shots and said, "Don't get up." That afternoon my friend Yolanda was giving me a baby shower because I was only seven months. The doctor kept calling to ask what was happening, I said, "Well, everything seems to be okay so far." I called my friend Teresita and I said, "Promise me that you're not going to tell Walter what I'm going to tell you because Walter's going to call Ted and all hell will break loose." So at 11:00 I told Teresita and asked her to call Yolanda. "Tell her I thank her from the bottom of my heart but I'm not going to be able to go to the baby shower." Probably about 3:30 in the afternoon she must have called Walter. It was selfish of me to keep it to myself and to expect her to keep it to herself. Of course, Walter called Ted and of course Ted comes like a bull: "Why didn't you tell me!" I said, "That's why." We went to the hospital at about 4:30 and she was born at 6:00 p.m. She was three pounds. It was a beautiful Catholic hospital and they took such good care of me but I never saw Sarah. The priest came on Monday to baptize her. They had to give her plasma because she went down to two and a half pounds, but she was in the incubator and I couldn't see her because I was covered with 22 measles. After my friends heard that Sarah had been born, an Episcopalian friend came over to give me a blessing. What a wonderful thing to do. That was Friday night. On Saturday there were flowers and friends and packages from the baby shower. They said, "Oh Hazel, she's beautiful!" Sunday they went to mass. Then at about 3:00 in the afternoon there was no one in the room and Mother Superior came. She said, "I know what you're thinking." She knew. I thought that the baby was dead and they didn't want to tell me. All my friends kept telling me the baby was so beautiful, but Mother Superior said, "I know what you're thinking so you're going to make me a promise—I'm going to bring a wheelchair and you're going to sit in it and you're going to look up over the window so you can see her." It was such a big weight off my shoulders to know that she was okay. But going home without a baby was hard. She was in the incubator for three weeks. The obstetrician and pediatrician would come four times a day to check on her. In Cali, I was one of four hundred volunteer nurses at the hospital. They had picked me and one other woman for special training to learn how to take care of premature babies. I had done it all with other babies but when my baby was born, I couldn't touch her. It was like I drew a blank. I was so scared to touch her. So we took a nurse whose name was Rosario and for a month she lived with us and took care of the baby. We had a crib and bassinet. She was so tiny. She had her little eyebrows and her little nails. Her legs were about two fingers wide. When she was six pounds, I took over taking care of her. I loved taking care of 23 my kids. That was my mission in life: take care of my kids and my husband. Now, what else should I tell? TB: The trip from Bogota to Medellin. HB: Oh yes. At that time you had to buy foreign cars and we had just a little car and when we went to Medellin we needed something better because we had three children then. Someone from the American embassy was selling a 1964 Chevy Impala, which was the year that Sarah was born. Ted flew to Bogota and bought the car. At that time it was dangerous and he drove the car from Bogota to Medellin in the middle of the night while there were gorillas everywhere and he could have been assassinated and nobody would have known. He arrived at our house at about 4:00 in the morning with this enormous car—remember how big those were? It was huge. TB: I almost got assassinated driving with the golf pro when we ran into that bicycle guy. HB: Oh yes, it's funny but I'm very observant and I had gone to visit my mother and when I came back, he came to get me at the airport and the first thing I said was, "What happened?" he said, "What do you mean?" I said, "The car is a different color." They had tried very hard to imitate it but I noticed. So he told me the story. He had a golf pro in the car and Ted had gone to take him downtown. TB: He told me, "I want to get out here." A bicyclist coming inside the curb hit the door and was thrown to the ground. He started running around complaining, "This guy hit me." A crowd started gathering, then he started shaking the car up and down and saying that I was a foreigner. A policeman came, thank God, and 24 he dispersed the crowd. He said, "I'm going to drive the car down to the station." He had never driven a car, I swear. He bumped the car all the way down to the station. HB: They realized that he had the golf pro in the car and the golf pro was from Medellin so he told them that it was not Ted's fault, it was actually his own fault for not looking when he opened the door. TB: Wait, you've got to put in that in Medellin I was forty-two years old and still playing baseball in the Coca Cola team of the Americas on Sunday afternoon with ten thousand people. HB: They built the stadium with the money we paid to get in—it was like a dollar to get in. it was famous team. That was a good story. ROH: How many years were you in Medellin? HB: We were in Cali three years, Medellin probably about three years. We left in 1964. We had a beautiful German Shepard named Hans. We were going to Medellin and the dog got out—he was going by plane—but they finally got him in the crate and on the plane. In Medellin we had a very nice home that had a fence and a cow guard at the entrance. It was all wired and there was a huge yard. So the dog arrived and I don't know why he became so vicious. We had a doctor living behind us and he had to go along a dirt road behind our fence in order to get to the main street. I don't know if they teased the dog but he would be out there barking all the time. My friends would call me before they would come to visit so that Hans would be locked in the house so that they could come in. 25 We would go on furlough to the States for a month and Ted would let one of the employees of Citibank—friends of ours with their son—stay in the house. Our maid was in charge of the house and I said, "All I want is that you are very careful with Hans, just make sure that if people come over, he is locked in the house." So the wife of the man who was going to stay in the house came to visit and one of the kids let the dog out. When Hans came out, he attacked the man. He was a big tall man and the man was going to kill the dog because it was attacking him but he didn't. He ended up with stitches all over both his arms. We were still friends, thank goodness. It was an accident. We were going to El Salvador and I had a little sewing kit. I thought it was a good hiding place for my thirteen gold coins and my cross and a jeweled bracelet that Ted had given me. Then I had a medal from one of the virgins. I put those in a box inside my sewing kit and put all the sewing things on top. Then I locked it and put it on top of all the things that still needed to be taken. We arrived in El Salvador; we were escorted to the airport by our friends from Medellin. Our maid went with us and we wished we could have taken her with us but she would have needed a passport. TB: You have to tell about President Johnson. You're not going to get there. We've only got so much time. HB: Alright, so we got to El Salvador and unpacked. I opened my sewing kit and the box with my special jewelry wasn't there. I thought, "Who would have even thought to look there?" I'm afraid that maybe the maid was the only one who knew. 26 We did more charity work in El Salvador. I was very involved in the community and the American ambassador to Colombia was very generous. His wife became my friend and we would play bridge in the afternoons. IT was time for us to do something big and I said, "Okay, why don't we do a night in Las Vegas with black jack and different tables." We had three months to plan. We had costumes. Walter, who was married to my friend Teresita, made the boards with the numbers and everything. But I had to have government permission to do this because it was going to be in a private home. We invited the governor of Medellin and he never came but he gave us permission. The American ambassador emptied the whole house of the furniture to make space for the gambling tables and the music and the food. The girls were dressed n cowboy boots, red shirts, and cowboy hats. I was pregnant with Sarah but it didn't show much at that time. It was very successful. The next day we came back and thanked the ambassador and his wife. He was so generous. The next afternoon we counted the money and we had made a lot of money that night. We gave it to the hospital and they bought grafting machines for the burned children. ROH: This was in Medellin? HB: Yes. [Day Two of Hazel Boyle's Interview] ROH: Today is November 17, 2011. We are continuing the oral history of Hazel Boyle. HB: We arrived in El Salvador and we were met by Joe and Sue Borgatti who was the president of the Citibank in El Salvador. We had a lovely dinner and met some of the most influential families who ran the city. It was 1965. It took us three months 27 to find a home. It was a lovely home. I think I mentioned that when we arrived in El Salvador, my aunt's husband's brother was the ambassador to Colombia in El Salvador. We were given a wonderful welcoming by him and we started making friends right away. A few years later the president of the bank came to visit and they bought a plane especially for them to travel through Central America to visit the branches of the bank. One night we had been invited to visit one of the homes out in the country. I think I told you the story about how we drove with another couple and the wife was in the hammock and she fell. So that night was a huge well-to-do party and Eartha Kitt was the singer that night. Later on, Ted was very involved with the American Men's Society and I was involved in the American Women's Society and we were always doing something for the country and the schools. Then president Lyndon B. Johnson arrived in the country. Because we were so involved in the American Men's and Women's Society, we went to the airport to greet them. They brought china and silver for the evening. All the ambassadors and presidents of Central America—Panama, Costa Rica, Honduras, Guatemala were there. The president brought his family and we met the two young ladies. He was a very tall man and very nice. They first had a big cocktail party on the terrace of the hotel and then we went in to dinner. It was so neat to have the china and dishes from the White House. ROH: Do you know what the President was doing there? HB: I think he wanted to meet with all of the heads of Central America. They left the very next morning. Then we had three very wonderful years. I had a tea for Mrs. 28 Moore when she was there. This is the Moore's—the president of the bank. They had a suite but we wanted to make it into more of a home, so I brought some of my paintings and Sue brought some of her things. He didn't like a lot of flowers but in Latin American countries, that it is a must. Mr. Moore said, "I want these flowers out of here. I feel like I'm in a mortuary." So all the flowers went out. I had to arrange every evening for the hairdresser to come up and fix her hair and the hors d'ourves before they went out to dinner. We had a wonderful group of friends there. We had a lot of Cuban people there who were married to Americans or Europeans. Or there were Latins, like myself, married to an American. We had wonderful parties and there was always dancing after dinner. I enjoyed every minute of it. From El Salvador we went to New York because Ted was assigned to the head office. I went on the train with four daughters to Connecticut. We had friends from El Salvador whose brother was dean of admissions at Berkeley, California. She showed us a lot of houses but we didn't like any. We were about to get back on the train to New York when she said there was one more house we might try. We went in and I just loved the drive up, the house was absolutely beautiful. It was colonial with black shutters. We went in and I said I really liked the house but it was a little more than we could spend. I said to Nora, our friend who met us and showed us the houses, if it would be feasible for me to make an offer. Nora said I had nothing to lose so just make the offer. I did. We went back to New York with the luggage and the girls and rented a little place between Norwalk and Wilton. We put the girls in school and within a week's time we got a 29 call saying, "Mrs. Boyle, the house is yours." We lived there for a beautiful six years. The funny part of the story is that they thought that because I was from South America I was used to maids and worried about how I was going to handle the house. What I did was I had a party and invited all the wives from the block. That was our introduction, then I had a beautiful New Years Eve party with black ties and long dresses and I cooked all the food for that and we had a wonderful dinner. Our girls went to school in Wilton. Sharon graduated from Wilton High School and then she wanted to go to BYU but she had already been accept to the University of Arizona but then she met a Mormon boy and that was what got us going there. So she went to BYU and she would call every night because she was missing us. This was the first time she had been on her own until she went on a mission. She went on a mission in Chile and she served for two years. Usually its eighteen months but she got pneumonia and they put her in a sanatorium. We were in Pakistan at the time. When we picked her up at the airport, I cried because it was like a shadow of the girl that I had sent on a mission. ROH: How did she get sick? HB: In Chile they have a lot of rain. Even though she had boots and heavy things, apparently the dampness got to her. We had a lovely time in El Salvador and met wonderful people. We went from El Salvador to New York and we bought the house. The girls went to school. On Halloween night in 1973, Ted came home while I was dishing candy and he 30 said, "How would you like to go Monrovia, Liberia in West Africa?" It was fine with me—it was part of my life and my job as his wife, but after reading the post report, I thought, "Oh! What am I getting into?" Poisonous snakes, frogs in the swimming pool, things that we wouldn't be able to get. Monrovia, Liberia was established by slaves that left the United States and established their own government. It was kind of neat, but it was different. We met President and Mrs. Tolbert. She took a kind of shine to me. She would always be so kind to me. They had a big affair every year where they had different booths from different countries and she asked me to represent America. I got a little committee and said, "How about something in fall?" We put a great big sheet like a sky and then we put leaves all around. We were also very involved with the American school. I taught Spanish there. I used to entertain people who would come from the bank with a great big sit down dinner at our home. Then we spent time at a beach house that I refurbished. The kids loved Saturday and Sunday at the beach. Then it was time for us to go to Pakistan. We arrived in Beirut, Lebanon in 1977 to 1979. Then we were transferred to Karachi, Pakistan and we were there from 1980 to 1983. There was a civil war going on. We have a book that shows the hatred that these people had for us as Americans at that time. A lot of Americans were evacuated. We arrived at the Bristol Hotel and Sarah and I were the only women there. We stayed in the hotel for three months until they fixed the bullet holes in the windows. We had to go through a lot of checkpoints to take my daughter to the American school and Ted to the bank. It didn't bother me when the driver took us. I've always minded my 31 P's and Q's when I'm driving, but we would leave the house at 6:00 at night and go through town and it was like a ghost town. I would say one prayer every night when I was driving and my daughter was with me. I would say, "Heavenly Father, please, I don't know if I would be capable running a person down if I met a guard with a bayonet." Every night for two years I was thinking: Would I be able to do that? I don't think I would have, but it never happened. IT was a miracle in my life. That's when I joined the church—while we were in Beirut, Lebanon. I looked for the missionaries but there were only the Parkers. ROH: Who were the Parkers? HB: They were friends and they were very involved in the University of Lebanon. Both of them worked there. She invited us to go to church and that's when Sarah and I were baptized—in a swimming pool at 6:00 in the morning. Now let me tell you the story about the Christmas tree. There was a dividing line between West Beirut and East Beirut. Our side had Catholics, Muslims, Jews, some Drews Mormons, and other religions as well. When you crossed the green line to the east, which was supposedly the Christian side. There was always a little friction there. Any time there was a cocktail party, I had to give them a list of who was coming. They would wait and they always had guns and they could see all the cars coming and when they saw a car coming they would always go down and make sure they knew what every car was doing there. It was always policed. At one time, there was a great uprising with the PLO. We used to play golf not to far from the golf club and we would pass the building that they were building for the American embassy and they stopped 32 construction, they were not doing anything there. Our friend used to be involved in agronomy and he went to Utah State and he was teaching at that time. I think he was in the military, as well. His name was Kenneth Bach and he was a colonel. He was sent to Monrovia, Liberia, and that was where we met them and that was where they took me to the non-denominational church and all these things started to go in my mind and I thought, "Hm." So they wanted to come and visit us in Beirut. They were going to Greece and I said, "When you get to Greece, if you don't hear anything bad about Beirut, please come and we'll take care of you." They didn't hear anything but unfortunately there was an uprising on the Saturday that they arrived. I always went to the market on Saturdays because the girls were busy doing stuff and we had a little girl as a maid that I sent to English school so that we could communicate—her name was Saba. They were so excited when I arrived with my beautiful flowers and they had everything but I had to go to all these different places to get things so it took me a good two or three hours. By the time I got home, they could hardly wait and they said, "Oh mom, guess who's here?" So Ken and his wife Eleanor and Sharon their daughter who was about fifteen at the time. I asked what hotel they were at and they told me. I said, "Oh, no!" So I stripped our bed because we had three bedrooms and we could give them the bedroom and the bathroom and we could move down to the other rooms. We went to get them from the hotel and we had a lovely lunch and then we headed out on the Christian side. When we got to Beirut, we had to pick out our car and it was a Datsun station wagon and I love yellow because it's such a pretty color. So we went over to the Christian side so 33 we could see the city there. There wasn't much traffic but we didn't hear any shots or anything. When it was time to come back we crossed and there was no problem. We arrived in our building and our neighbor was a Palestinian woman who was younger than us but always worrying like she was our mother. She came out saying, "Where have you been? They are fighting in Ashrafieh!" That was the cross line, but we didn't hear any shots. I guess we should have listened to her, but we didn't. Sunday morning we to the Parkers to go to church and there were Armenians and an American nurse and two or three other people and their families. Sunday we came back and had a lovely lunch—I had told Saba to pack a picnic lunch because I wanted to take it and show our guests Faraya, which was the skiing resort in Beirut. When we arrived there, there were all these Bedouin tents and goats and people. Francesca had warned us, "There's an uprising so don't go out, stay inside." We found a little place and we had our picnic and on the way back we couldn't cross. At the check point, there was the Christian militia in black with their guns and everything. In all of this traffic, we were in a bright yellow station wagon—how conspicuous could we be! So we get to the check point and he yells at us, "Go! Go! We're inshallah, go!" So we decided to go down by the port and not fifty yards from us—Boom! A mortar blew up and we thought we were dead. Ted did a wheelie and we went back to the east side. We went to John Berenson's house, who was in charge of the Citibank in the East. We arrived and Eleanor needed to use the facilities. I said okay 34 because he was not there; he had probably gone to see a movie because all of the nice things were on our side. So we had to climb down on kind of an iron ladder because I knew there would be facilities down there by the pool. When we went back up, we sat and waited for John to arrive. When he did, he said, "Oh! I know why you're here because they wouldn't let me cross either." We asked him if we could spend the night. That night we washed our clothes and the next morning John sent the bank driver to take us to the crossing but there was no way we could cross. We went to buy swimming suits for the girls because we did not want them to get worried, then Eleanor and I prepared a lovely lunch. We sat on the terrace that night and he used a video camera to look at all the tracers. By the port, they had put a fire on one of those oil tanks. Downtown was black, no electricity. You could see the tracers. I had to call Kimmy because Linda had already gone to the university but Kimmy stayed behind a few days. I called her and I had to be careful but I said, "We are at John Berenson's house and we may not be able to get through because it's kind of raining here." It was raining bullets, but she knew. I said, "Please don't leave the building. If you need anything, go to Francesca." That was the second night. The third night we tried again. Ted said, "Let me call my friend." That was the same guy who brought us the Christmas tree all the way from the east side to the west side at about 11:30 hoping that they wouldn't stop him because he was carrying a Christian Christmas tree. His name was Ramon Maitar and we all met and he said, "My friend it's imperative that we get our friends out, but we can't cross." He said, "Okay, I'm going to call my brother who 35 was in the Christian militia." His brother had been wounded just a few weeks before. And he called his brother and said, "Stop everything, there's going to be two cars—my car and the yellow station wagon." We got everything in the car and started—it was the most eerie feeling. It was dead silent. There wasn't a soul or a dog or a cat on the streets. We would look up and think, "Oh my gosh, the bullets are going to start coming." He took us all the way around the back way and at about half a mile he stopped the car and said, "This is as far as I can go." We had no more problems. We got through the checkpoints and to the apartment and everything was fine. We went to the American Express immediately to check their passports so that we could get them out of Beirut. They opened the suitcases and everything and when that plane finally took off we were so relieved. It was a great responsibility for us. That night, the embassy called us because my girls had been friends with the marines at the American Embassy. A marine called my husband and said, "Mr. Boyle, we need for you to get your family out of here immediately." That night we were pulling pictures out of the albums, I didn't take any clothes, just my silver which was my heirlooms and then I had to say goodbye to my husband. We got to Los Angeles and I had to declare everything. They looked at my passport and saw "Beirut, Lebanon" and said, "Go right ahead." Off we went and we arrived in California and I was concerned about Ted. He would always leave the apartment building at night and walk to the Kentucky Fried Chicken and you never know if you might be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 36 When Ted called he would say, "It's raining, you can't come yet, it's too wet." That was our communication. Then he arrived and we were so happy to have him for about a week before he had to go back. In 1976, the Russian airline "Aerofloat" had a tour to go visit Moscow, Leningrad, and Kiev. It was two weeks, all hotels and transport paid for and it was $500 a piece. We signed up and took the aero float and landed in Armenia. We knew that we were going to the symphony and the ballet and the circus, so I took my good clothing and my jewelry and I had to declare everything. It was an interesting trip and we enjoyed everything. A lawyer was our guide in Moscow and there was a teacher as our guide in Leningrad. Kiev they refurbished because it was completely destroyed in WWII. There were 125 people signed for the trip but when the Israelis came we had to go down to the basement because there couldn't be any lights. We thought they were going to cancel the trip but seven of us went. We had a whole bus to ourselves. The lawyer who was our guide took us to an ice cream parlor and we walked in and there were all these Russians and there was silence. Oh, it was so awful. They knew we were foreign and it was so awful. They kept looking at us. We wanted to give the guide a little gift and she said, "I love Agatha Christie novels and when you send it, put law books.'" So then we went to Leningrad and the Hermitage Museum was incredible. While we were in Moscow, they had that beautiful church in the red square and we saw Lenin's tomb. There were a lot of Mongolian soldiers standing there and I approached one and said, "Do you speak English?" They said, "Yes, we do." I said, "Would you mind if I took your 37 picture." So they posed for me. Then Ted and I ventured out by ourselves and we wanted to see the basilica. We were in line and a Russian soldier was behind us and said, "Are you visitors?" I said, "Yes, we're here to visit your beautiful country." He said, "Would you mind if I directed you inside the basilica and told you some of the history?" I don't know if he thought we were spies, but he took us all around the whole thing and told us all the history. Then it was time to go on the train to Kiev. That was a little different because they only had one bathroom in each compartment and then we slept in bunk beds. So we are in our pajamas and this man came into out compartment and we didn't know what he was saying but he was pointing to the top bunk so we thought that was where he was going to sleep so we said, "Yes." Well, he proceeded to undress himself and got up there and went to sleep. My daughter was a little shy about that. We arrived in Kiev and the palace was refurbished and it was absolutely gorgeous. It was magnificent. I took pictures but we weren't supposed to. Then we had a young man as a guide and we asked what he would like for us to give him. He said, "I want your husband's jeans." He was tall and skinny like my husband. HE said, "Please don't send me a thank you card or anything, but tomorrow you sit in the back of the bus and roll up those jeans and just put it in my little suitcase." Then no one would know anything about it. He said, "I would have to pay $250 for a pair of jeans in the black market." We left and went back to Moscow and went to the catacombs. It was deep and dark and full of rats. It wasn't anything like the country jails that we pay for so 38 that they can get educated, you know. Anyways, we got to the airport and Sarah had to empty her pockets of her change and leave it. Then I had to go to a little room and take out all my jewelry so they could compare everything that I had declared in Armenia with what I was taking with me. They thought I'd brought it into the country to sell it. Then we boarded the plane and we were so happy to get back to Beirut. Remember Russia was still communist at that time. We were evacuated one time from Beirut and one time from Pakistan. We were having a big party at our home in Karachi and we had invited all of the teachers from the American school. They were our friends. In Pakistan, even before a child was born, its name was on a list to get into the American school. That night, some of the teachers wouldn't come because they had ordered us to be careful because they had raided the American embassy in Islamabad. We left the next night. Sarah and I left but Ted stayed behind again. We had house boys and everything, but still we were worried. It was my daughter's fourteenth birthday and she was so sad. The plane was full of Americans going to Washington D.C. and she said, "I may not see them again." I said, "Sarah, how many girls get to go on an Air France flight on their birthday?" She started laughing. When we got off the plane, she said goodbye to all her friends. We went to our hotel for one night, as the bank had an apartment for us and we were there for four months. Ted would come home every Friday and leave every Sunday. At Christmas time, that was what we did while we were there in Athens, Greece. ROH: When were you in Athens? 39 HB: I think it would have been 1978, but we spent Christmas and New Years there, so it was 1978 to 1979. ROH: What was Christmas like in Athens? HB: We had a little tiny Christmas tree just for us. People were very kind. The Greek people were very welcoming. Then, after Pakistan, we went to Saudi Arabia. We had a beautiful cat that we had adopted in Pakistan and our house was the main house for all the parties because it was a humungous house. You could put 400 people in that house and you wouldn't even know that they were there. There was a huge garden and a living room and another living and then we had two or three terraces upstairs. So whenever the American women had a party, it was at our house. Of course, we had the help and the people would come and string the lights and set up music and speakers. It was a great house for entertaining. I was president of the American Women's group in Pakistan. This charity had fairs for the school. We made the tennis courts and the books and whatever the school needed. ROH: When were you in Pakistan? HB: We were there from the end of 1979 to 1982. From 1982 to 1985, we were in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia. I had my own driver because we weren't allowed to drive. In Saudi Arabia women are nothing. We are there for one purpose only. I met American women married to Saudis that they had met in college and they were so timid. They would come into the fish market or the meat market and I would try to talk to them and they wouldn't. But we found out that they were the favorite wives because they were blond or beautiful, but they always had to have their 40 abayah with her. We learned that in the palaces, the men ate first and whatever was leftover, the women would eat while the men went to smoke. They had the most wonderful shops there—like Christian Dior and Oscar de la Renta. But at the same time, the taste was horrendous. They liked all this glittery stuff that you would see in the windows. The brand new airport was built. It was incredible, but the women were petrified of the escalators in the mall and in the airport because they wore those long skirts and abayah and veil and they preferred to use the stairs. We had an incident in Saudi because my husband got sick and we went to the urologist and the urologist tried to get him in the American hospital because he was not a resident—but they really liked my husband because he was Mormon and they knew he didn't drink and all of that. Whatever we did was illegal—I went to aerobics and that was illegal and my friends made wine and beer out of apple juice in their bathtubs. That was how we entertained. Ted and I never drank it, but we served it at our house. They would bring cases or red wine, white wine, and beer. Citibank bank had 23 compounds in Riyadh and everything we did— tennis and parties and thanksgiving and golf—we did it at the compounds, but we had to be careful because we had our western dress at night but we had the abayah that we wore happily and we did it justice. But the French girls didn't, they would go out with very tight jeans and then they would wrap their shirts up in a knot. When they went to the souk, the priest would tap them on the ankle because they had high heels and because the jeans were so tight they didn't 41 cover their ankles. So they would be sent to jail. They ate bread and water because they don't give you any food in those jails. I thought, "Not a bad idea!" Another thing that happened in Riyadh was because they encouraged us to go to the chopping block every Friday because Friday is their Sunday. ROH: What is the chopping block? HB: The chopping block is this big plaza. If there was a person who had fornicated or raped anybody or would do something really bad, they would be beheaded in the plaza every Friday. They encouraged foreigners to go. ROH: Why? HB: I guess to warn you not to do something bad. We were guests in their country and we were very careful. So anyway, the urologist gave him a note to go to the hospital but the hospital wouldn't allow him to go in, so he had to go to the president of the bank there and get permission to leave the kingdom for medical reasons. My husband is a little bit of a stubborn man, like most men. He went to the airport but he didn't have all the signatures he needed, but he wouldn't go in the wheelchair and I said, "Ted, if you had just gone in the wheelchair, you would have been let on that plane without a problem." Well, while we were traveling, Ted's catheter got clogged and it must have been very painful. When we arrived in New York, I said, "Ted, lets go right to the medical center. They'll take care of it." He said, "No, no, no, I'm fine." So we missed the plane to Salt Lake so we flew to Los Angeles and by the time we arrived in Salt Lake, Ted's face was white. His brother met us there and took him to the hospital and five minutes later he was fine. Because we were not Arabs, they would not allow us in the hospital. 42 But everything was taken care of at McKay Dee Hospital. Our daughter Kimmy lived in Salt Lake City at the time and we saw her while Ted was convalescing. So that was our time in Saudi Arabia. We had a Main Coon cat. He was beautiful and so sweet. We loved him. This is in Pakistan, but there were fifteen ladies together for tea and all the sudden this gorgeous can came and sat in my lap and it was love at first sight. She said to me, "Hazel, you must have something special because Foxy never goes to anyone!" The cat's name was Foxy. I said, "If you ever need someone to babysit, let me know." That was Christmas time. On February 14, she called. She said, "Hazel, how would you like to have Foxy?" I said of course, how long are you going to be gone?" She said, "We're being transferred to Italy and we can't take the cat because we're expecting a second child and Foxy hasn't been very good with our first. Would you like to have him?" I said, "Of course!" I didn't ask Ted because he would have said no. That day we took him and we put him in the blue room. Coming from a small house, we thought he would be petrified of the big house. So we went to pick up Ted from the office and I said, "Happy Valentines Day!" And Ted said, "Alright, what do you have up your sleeve?" We got home and he said, "I don't want to have anything to do with that animal." Three days later, he still did not want that cat. I thought, "Okay, Foxy and I are leaving." Ted came and said, "Okay, I guess Foxy can stay." That cat died on its twenty-second birthday. We brought him to Wilton and it was so funny in the snow because he'd never been in snow. ROH: So which was your last post? 43 HB: Saudi was our last. We flew Swiss Air because of Foxy. We arrived at Kennedy Airport and our neighbor's son worked for a limousine company and when we arrived this beautiful limousine was waiting. That was our homecoming. ROH: So you kept your home in Wilton the whole time you were abroad? HB: Yes, we did. In fact, when we were going to Monrovia, Ted said, "Sell the house." Linda was a junior in high school and I asked the principal if she could graduate as a junior because she was too young to leave but not old enough to go to college. I asked the school in Monrovia if she could do a year of post-graduation work there. They said, "Oh, sure." She was such an addition. She had been on the tennis team and she had been a cheerleader. So she graduated a second time. She mentioned that we always decorated the graduating room but that night there was a strong storm and there were no lights. So the students each came in their gown with a candle to light the way. They needed a majestic chair because the president was going to be there. Well, I had this lovely Spanish chair in the dining room at home that was upholstered in red velvet. I said, "I have two chairs for them." So we had that. About an hour later, the lights came on and Linda was able to sing, The Way We Were. She started singing when we had come from over seas, the girls were in eight and ninth grade and her sister were in the high school. Sarah was supposed to go to kindergarten when we arrived, but they wouldn't accept her because she didn't speak any English. We had been talking to her in Spanish, so I had to keep her for another year and speak only English. She forgot her Spanish. She took classes in high school and in college, but when 44 some of us start talking Spanish, she gets so mad because she forgot all her Spanish. ROH: How did you come to be in St. George? HB: We were in Wilton, Connecticut until Ted retired from the bank. A friend of his, Frank Tribe, called him and said, "Ted, if you want to go to heaven and play golf, go to Rio Verde, Arizona." So we sold the house and I flew out ahead of time to Logan because my daughters were there. We went first to Scottsdale and rented a car and followed the directions they had given us. There was nothing there, just grass and desert and we thought, "Where are we going? Are we sure we have it right?" Finally we go to the curve and we turned and saw the sign for Rio Verde. We had rented a townhome. The people were so friendly. The realtor took us around and we saw a house that I really liked. We didn't buy the house then. It was reasonable in price and it was brand new. We had to live with our daughter and put things in storage for two months while we waited for the house. She was so gracious. Then we had an Air Force reunion in California. That was what made us realize, "Yes, this is what we want." We went back and the house had gone up in price. But we sweet-talked the realtor and he let us buy it for what he had quoted us before. We moved in and our neighbors came to visit us and brought us things and it was heaven. When our family came, we had to rent a house for them so there was enough room for everyone. ROH: So how long have you been here? HB: We've been here six years. We moved here in April 2005. ROH: Of all of those countries you lived in, was there one you enjoyed the most? 45 HB: I'm the type of person who can make friends easily. The bank was very good for us. When we were in Pakistan, I could go into the store and get everything I wanted, but the paper towels were so expensive and the toilet paper was like sandpaper. But all these things you learn from the people who were there before you. They had one shipment every year and all the people and the vice presidents would bring us bacon—because you don't see bacon in those countries—and cheese, too. We enjoyed the R and Rs. We went to Europe many times, we loved Switzerland, Austria I liked, Germany was okay, Italy was nice also. I had a very good friend from El Salvador whose husband worked for the Intercontinental Hotel and he was Swiss. She and I did everything together. We would go to the movies and when we got back, the chef would have cherries jubilee waiting for us. They spoiled us. I forgot to mention, when we were in Beirut, Lebanon, we subscribed to the Times magazine and we listened to the BBC from London. We opened the Time magazine up before we left for Russia and they had assassinated the president Tolbert and his wife from Monrovia, Liberia, West Africa. Then they got all the ministers that we knew—they had come to our home—and they were taken and assassinated on our beach. That was really awful. Then, in El Salvador, there were uprisings. Every single country that we have lived in has had uprisings. The only country that seemed to be okay was Greece and now they're in trouble. I know that we're here for a reason. I love my life here and I have such a good time. 46 ROH: Did you children pick up the languages wherever you went? HB: They were with us constantly. They got a tremendous education wherever they went. They were way ahead on all the examinations they did. Wherever the American school was in those countries, the American school was the best. ROH: Tell me about the girls that went to school in Utah. HB: Sharon went to BYU; Linda, Kimmy, and Sarah went to Utah State. Kimmy was married at twenty-two and didn't finish college. Linda and Sarah finished. We thought Sarah would go into public relations; when she went to Michigan, she was the assistant coach of the girl's tennis team. She loved that but then she hurt her back and had to go into a different field. ROH: Did you go back to Ogden to visit after you had been married? HB: Oh yes, always. Every time we went to the States we would go to New York to do the medical. Then we would fly to L.A. and Ted's brother would pick us up and take us to Long Beach to see our mother and father-in-law. We would always go to Ogden because that was the place where all of his friends were. When we moved to Wilton, they would come to visit us in the east. We loved to take them to see the sights. We always flew over the United States, so for three years we made a trip across the United States so the girls could learn some of the history and geography. The first trip was from the east coast to the west coast. We had a whole month to do it. We would drive four or five hundred miles a day, then the girls and I would go sight-seeing. We went through so many places. My favorite was Gettysburg. It was s historical. We went to the theater and we went to the 47 museum about the North and the South and the fighting. Kentucky was beautiful because I love horses. We went to Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon. We traveled a lot with the girls. We had a huge station wagon and we would have to put the dog and the cat in a kennel while we did this. While we were driving, Ted would play games like, "Whoever sees the first white horse gets a dollar," or, "Whoever sees the first buffalo gets a dollar." Once time he said, "I want you to count how many Volkswagen bugs you see on the trip." And they'd get a prize. They were spoiled. [Laughter] ROH: You had lots of parties, but what kind of hobbies did you have? HB: I did needlepoint and crochet. I knitted and embroidered. My hobby wherever we were was to take care of our home and make the best of whatever we had. I loved entertaining and we never went out to dinner like you do now. I always cooked. When I was a child, they put me in ballet and I played the piano, I went to the conservatory. These things were so helpful in my life. My parents would take me to see the ballet and symphony and concerts and operas. The worst was when they took me to lectures; they were so boring. ROH: What kind of music did you dance to when you had parties? HB: Glen Miller, and Big Band type music, and then, of course, the Latin music. I loved classical music and I would love to go to concerts, but Ted isn't fond of that type of music. He likes Glen Miller. The war music. ROH: What are your favorite flowers? 48 HB: My favorite flower is the rose. I love red and pink and yellow roses. I learned how to arrange flowers when I was in Central America. I took classes and those were fun. I have given demonstrations in cooking. When we moved to Arizona, we had to go about thirty-seven miles to get to church. ROH: What are you favorite kind of books? HB: I like happy things. I like mysteries and biographies. I like romantic books. I read church books and I love them. I have my own little library and that was so helpful when I was a teacher in church. I should also mention, when we were in Monrovia, Ted met Shirley Temple Black and Henry Kissinger. I think they were interested in the background of Liberia and the businesses and the education. We had a big colony there from all walks of life. We had maybe 1,500 foreigners, maybe. The compound was beautiful and when Ted left, I didn't sell the house. Nora offered to watch the house if I wanted to rent it and so for eleven years she rented to IBM people and Australian people and Canadian people. When we went back after eleven years, we did not have to do anything to fix it because Nora had taken care of it. Our first car when we had come from overseas was sold to us by a man whose son races cars. I think it was a Corbeau. In Colombia, when Kimmy was born, Ted said, "We're going to take pictures." I had Kimmy in my arms and I was going downstairs and I slipped. I landed on my tailbone and from then on I would have back pain every once in a while. But it was not until we were driving in Bryce Canyon in the 1970s during one of our trips from the east coast to the west 49 coast—there were very small roads and we went down by mule and my mule's name was Herman. After the mule ride—two hours down and two hours back—I went home and sat down and I could not get up. I had a ruptured disk. The next day I went for x-rays and they sent me to a specialist in Norwalk, Connecticut. Remember, this was in the '70s. They didn't know very much about back surgery. Ted asked them the odds and they said the surgery was about twenty-five percent successful. I said, "Oh, no, you're not cutting me open." So he said I had to come home and lie down for three months and they gave me cortisone and I wore a brace for nine months. He said, "You'll never be able to horseback ride or play tennis, but you can swim." My neighbors would come every day and talk to me and bring books and just be aware of how I was doing. I was so grateful. We had another friend, a teacher, whose wife had cancer. Towards the end, when it was so painful, she gave herself to the hospital in New York City so they could test things on her. At the funeral, I spoke to the priest and said, "These are my very good friends and they want to be buried in the Wilton cemetery, would it be okay to do a ceremony here in church?" He said, "Of course." I called all my neighbors and planned it all. Their youngest daughter used to come to our house all the time, she was like another daughter, and she still communicates with me. So he was the one who took us to the airport and we couldn't find Pancho, the cat. We found him under the car. When we got to the airport, the airline had a big crate for the golden retriever and a little one for the cat. I wasn't worried about the cat, but I was worried about the dog. They were very accommodating. They said I could stand at the window and see that he had enough water and the pills. 50 I had carried all these medications for him because we were going to Africa. When it was time, I stood by the window and saw the cage going into the luggage area. It was a night flight—we left at about eight at night—and we saw the aurora borealis. I have never seen such a beautiful thing in my life. It was incredible. We arrived the next morning and went to the compound where we would be living. Ted had been sleeping on a cot there with a wonderful cook and the house boy. He moved into the hotel with us, the cat and the dog were at the compound. The president there had a nice welcoming party for us and the music there is very similar to Latin music. That was so much fun! We met a lot of people that were from Scotland. They have a special day that they celebrate— ROH: Robbie Burns Days. They line sheep's stomach, like a sausage. HB: That was fun. We became very good friends with the people … All of our furniture was shipped by ship from New York City and my friend had her binoculars every day saying, "Okay Hazel, I think your ship is here, you'd better come over." Sure enough, our furniture had arrived. You don't realize you take these things for granted. I had said to Ted, "Describe the house for me." From what he said, I brought everything we had because I thought everything would be perfect. You wouldn't believe how beautiful everything fit in the house. In fact, I have a dresser and some other furniture in the other room that traveled everywhere with us. No matter where we went, I made a home for our family. They went to school, they had a wonderful life. All of our social life was inter-mixed. When we were going to go to Beirut, we could only take an air shipment 51 so I sold everything. The bank had told me I could buy everything we needed but I thought of the bank people in Cuba who had to leave everything behind and I thought, "No, we'll make do with what we have." I had a beautiful cedar double bed. We bought beds for the girls. I had a little kitchen table with six chairs and that was what we used even in Pakistan when we had this huge house. We had a fabulous time. We gave a farewell dinner to the ambassador of Colombia. Being friends with him, he had introduced us to so many people and we went to all the parties and we became very close to everyone. When it was time for him to leave, we had a very fancy dinner. I had the waiters from the Intercontinental Hotel wear white gloves and I made the food. I had decorated the card tables. It was a fairly good size home but the garage was open to the hall and I didn't want people to see the garage even though it was tiled and everything. So I made little curtains and put planters all along side. We had little tiny patio that I put potted plants, and then I planted Chinese grass. ROH: Well, thank you Hazel for your time and for talking to me. HB: Thank you.

Issue 54.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1995. ; 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 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 ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1995 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for. religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Adv#ory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP 'Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read J6an.n Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and contemporary Living MAY-JUN~ 1995 * VOLUME54 * NUMBER3 contents 326 339 353 extending horizons Multiculturalism, Internationality, and Religious Life Gerald A. Arbuckle SM presents an understanding of multiculturalism and its lived difficulties by means of case studies. Accompanying New-Age People A. Paul Dominic SJ assesses and evaluates his experience of dealing with the ideals and quest~ of the New Age movement. Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home Barbara Valuckas SSND relates her experience of three, visits to Lithuania and working with its peoples, women religious, and church catechists. 364 371 383 focusing community Community Today--Idol? Icon? Gift? Elizabeth V. Roach MM compares some of the secular criteria for community living with the gospel call to be a community of paschal living. Called to Community Dennis J. Billy CSSR presents the Trinitarian and Christological bases for life in community and identifies ten common difficulties in living the call to community. Public and Private: Some Confusion in Community Patricia Chaffee OP reviews some of the tensions and their relief in the public and private interfaces of religious community life. 389 399 rooting religious IJfe Apostolic Congregations' Monastic Roots John P. Auther_SJ suggests ways in which religious life becomes more viable in contemporary life by taking its monastic roots seriously. Women Religious: Widows of the Church, Women of Hope Anna Marie Kane SSJ draws out some comparisons of widows in the early church and women religious today. 322 Re~ie~ for Religious 4O3 A Meditation on Living the Vows Joel Giallanza CSC probes a familiar Gospel verse for its implications in living a life of celibate charity, obedience, and poverty. 410 418 424 433 growing spirituaJJy Freedom to Be God's Eric Kahn OFM suggests a style of retreat that is more fitting for the Franciscan tradition. Coming Home: The Journey Within Janet Malone CND describes various aspects of our lifelong process of moving inward to the ground of our being where God dwells in us. I Cast for Comfort GeorgeJ. Auger CSV reflects on how faith deepens in darkness and love grows in desire. Feeling and Pain and Prayer Margaret Bullitt-Jonas sketches four ways of prayer to deepen our intimacy with God and our capacity for full responsiveness to pain and io'y and being alive. 447 454 embracing heritage Heart of the Human John R. Welsh SJ explores the rich symbol of the Heart of Christ for our appreciation of the incarnation and of our own relationship to God. Enclosure: Sacramental Sign Jean Shively OSC presents her experience andunderstanding of a spirituality of enclosure as a positive and essential element of the contemplative lifestyle. 324 462 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: The Concluding Message of the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life 467 Book Reviews May-.l~une 199.q 323 many Christians the month of May evokes memories of processions and crownings and songs in honor of Mary, Mother of God. In a similar way the month of June recalls the novenas and hymns and vigils devoted to the heart of Jesus. Devotions, once such a bright part of our pre-Vatican II faith lives, now seem like faded fabrics preserved under some obscure museum's glass showcase. Although nostal-gia may too readily find its place, we need to acknowl-edge how devotions in a pre-Vatican II church~ fired up the faith lives of many parish communities and the mis-sionary zeal .of'many women and men. On the other hand, devotions, with their vernacular prayers and singable hymns, sometimes overshadowed even feast-day Masses in people's affection. In fact, the Mass itself often became the time and place for people's devotional practices while the priest quietly busied himself with the ~Latin prayers and formal ritual of the Mass. Perhaps the greatest gift of the liturgical renewal of Vatican II was the clarity brought to the central place of liturgy, both the Eucharist and the Liturgy of the Hours. Devotions, as a result, were given the chance to take a more modestly proportioned place in our spiritual lives, sometimes even to die after years of devout usefulness. But at the same time that the Vatican II renewal was cre-ating a spiritual renewal of prayer practices in correct pro-portion, a major shift in human interaction was taking 324 Review for Religious place in the Western world and having undue influence upon some other nations. New cultural patterns of lifestyle, fragmen-tations of family.living and of many a neighborhood, the subur-bia driving (not walking) distances between home and church, and the easy attractions of TV and home video entertainment every night of the week are among the reasons why the practice of devotions fell by the wayside. The majority of Catholics today have no experience of such devotional practices. The case is lit-tle different in the present-day worship and prayer lives of many men and women religious. Devotions need once again to find their place in faith lives that too often merit the descriptive terms "thin" or "desiccated." There is no doubt that devotions bring color to our somewhat monochrome lives of worship. Devotions rouse some passion in a faith lived often too listlessly, even in Eucharists attended rou-tinely. Yet devotions from the'past need more than just a dusting off. They need to be rethought and reexpressed for our context and time. Even more importantly, perhaps, devotions need to be refounded on the essential of devotion itself. Devotion in the Christian-theological tradition is defined as "an ease in finding God." To say that "here we have a man or woman of devotion" is to point to someone who has an evident and easy relationship with God. To be a person of devotion is to be specially graced by God. Praying for devotion in our spiritual lives is essential for a healthy existence. Even our ministries receive special effectiveness from being permeated with devotion. Devotions and devotion are related, something like the chicken and the egg. If we are people of devotion, we will find that our faith naturally tends to express itself in prayers to Jesus and to Mary and the saints, in vigils, in processions and pilgrimages, and in other such external forms. Devotions in their proper propor-tion feed and strengthen the Christian lives of all the faithful. Devotions cannot be absent from our faith expression without the loss of devotion itself., ~ Perhaps the time has come for all of us to reassess our need for devotions as the fuel and lifesource for the devoted lives we Christians desire to live. David L. Fleming SJ May-June 1995 325 GERALD A. ARBUCKLE Multiculturalism, Internationality, and Religious Life The religious community "is an evangelizer, but she begins by being evangelized herself." --Pope Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi § 15 The world is tragically divided by ideological conflicts, pathological forms of nationalism, racial violence, ethnic cleansing programs, and intercultural tensions. It almost destroyed itself through interracial conflict during this century. We who gasped at Hitler's genocide policies live in a world where ecocide, that is, the genocide of virtually all living species of earth, is a real possibility because cul-tures still rarely live side-by-side with respect and justice) It is a world "groaning in travail" (Rm 8:22). Inasmuch as prophetic witness is at the heart of reli-gious life, the church rightly expects religious communi-ties to be models of intercultural understanding and action. If we judge from the constitutions and mission statements of many congregations, there is a growing theoretical awareness of this need. Thus, there are expressions like these: "We are committed to living internationality in a divided world"; "Let us inculturate the gospel in our own communities first by being authentically multicultural-ist"; "We are called to respect the rights of people to their Gerald A. Arbuckle SlVl wrote "Merging Provinces" for our May-June 1994 issue. He may be addressed at Refounding and Pastoral Develgpment Unit; 1 Mary Street; Hunters Hill; Sydney, N.S.W. 2110; Australia. 326 Review for Religious culture; this applies also to people of different cultures within our congregation"; "We commit ourselves to foster communities in which representatives of several ethnic groups live together in a spirit of dialogue, justice, and charity." But are communities in fact living according to these statements, or are the words just rhetoric and escapes into fantasy? The Future of Religious Orders Study in the United States (FORUS) contains disturbing conclusions about the gap between theory and reality. For example, 96 percent of American religious are white; minority groups are poorly represented; "unconscious racism makes penetration of minority populations into rather homogeneous orders very difficult." The report shows that older religious in particular, while believing they are accepting of minor-ity members, in fact cannot adapt readily to the cultural diver-sity this demands.2 My experience is that religious of dominant cultures usually do not lack goodwill towards minority groups in their midst, but also that, while using the language of multicul-turalism or internationality, they understand only imperfectly what these words mean and what attitudinal and behavioral changes they must make in consequence. This introductory article has two aims: to. explain the terms inculturation, multiculturalisra, and internationality and to help readers identify, through case-study analysis, ways in which they may be unconsciously dominating and even oppressing people of minority cultures within their midst, thus obstructing the emer-gence of multicultural congregations.3 Defining Terms Multiculturalism is an inculturatibn imperative. Incultura~ion is "the incarnation of the Christian life and Christian message in a particular cultural context, in such a way that this experience not only finds expression through elements proper to the culture in question, but becomes a p~'inciple that animates, directs, and unifies the [cultural context], transforming and remaking it so as to bring about a 'new creation.'''4 Multiculturalism is a process of inculturation whereby cultures are so transformed and remade into a "new creation" that they interact with one another in jus-tice and charity in the service of personal ~and community growth. This interaction does not occm" through a command from above or the planning of "just a few experts," as Pope John Paul II May-June 1995 327 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality reminds us in Redemptoris Missio (§54), but through the involve-ment of people at all levels of society. The way culture is conceptualized has significant bearing on the theory and practice of inculturation and consequently of mul-ticulr0ralism. As an hnthropologist I believe that the failure to define accurately what is meant by culture makes it impossible for people to understand the complexity of inculturation and the challenges involved in developing an authentic multicultural com-munity in religious, parish, or secular life. In the classicist's definition, culture is a visible, comprehensi-ble entity, the consEious creation of rational minds,s The focus is on observable phenomena (such as language, foods, literature, dances) rather than on how people feel about what they do. Cultures, then, can be graded aesthetically: one culture may be considered to have more artistic dances than another. This definition of culture has grave deficiencies. It overstresses ethnic groups' historical lifestyles and customs and downplays their adaptation to the world in which they now live. It freezes a culture in a time period and encourages romantic or fossilized views of a people's former way of living. This definition likens a culture to a machine something with visible, rationally con-structed, interconnected parts that can readily be replaced by sim-ilar components without creating any pa.rticular difficulty. If a religious community uses this meaning of culture, then it expects the process of inculturation to be speedy and simple. The com-munity merely replaces, with administrative efficiency, an existing custom with a gospel-inspired one. And it does this by imple-menting the directives of people (pastors, r+ligious superiors) from outside the culture. This is not inculturation; the people who are the object of t~ae process have no free involvement in it, but instead are ma~aipulated. The second definition of culture gives priority to a group's ideas and feelings: Culture is not an entity, but is primarily a pro-cess that is persuasively at work, particularly in the unconscious of the group and individuals. It is a pattern of shared assump-tions expressed in symbols, myths, and rituals that a .group has invented, discovered, or developed .while coping with problems of external adaptation and internal cohesion. This instrumental view of culture, while it assumes the importance of factual history and visible phenomena, highlights the developmental and ever evolv-ing survival role of culture for people in a world of change, prej- 328 Review for Religious udice, and discrimination. Finally, culture is not one aspect of life along with, for example, religious, political, and economic activ-ity. It embraces all human activity.6 An appreciation of this defi-nition of culture has the, following immediate practical consequences for inculturation and multiculturalism. 1. Because a culture is essentially a living interrelation of sym-bols and myths, the feeling of belonging to it is basically invisible to outsiders. The experience of being culturally different or of confronting a history of preju-dice and discrimination pro-duces a set of memories and feelings that are not easily shared with outsiders. The out-sider may gain some under-standing from participation in the visible activities .of the group (such~as dances and food ritu-als), but finds it difficult or even impossible to comprehend its inner experiences and feelings. 2. In order to begin to appreciate another cultu.re, one must have the gifts of empathy and of openness to dialogue. Empathetic listening means trying to become aware not only of others' feelings, but also of how they experience them-- and, as far as possible, to have the same feelings.7 An outsider As an anthropologist I believe that the failure to define accurately what is meant by culture makes it impossible for people to understand the complexity of inculturation and the challenges involved in developing an authentic multicultural community in religious, parish, or secular life. can know more about the history, cultural externals, and even language of an ethnic group than its members and still be alien to them because of a lack of empathy.Dialogue, a consequence of empathy, is the interaction in which people seek to give of them-selves as they are and to receive and know the others in their par-ticular oth.erness.8 Dialogue presumes that one is prepared to learn from others and their cultures and to let ~o of attachments that interfere with the growth in mutuality. 3. People of'every cultu.re tend to think that their own way of feeling about life and of thinking and acting is the right way; they May-June 1995 329 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality see the ways of other peoples as stupid, crude, or unreasonable. This prejudice in favor 'of one's own group is technically called eth-nocentrism. Taken to an extreme, the assumption is that "our way of life is the way of life," so that other groups have nothing of value to offer us. Hence, on the basis of assumed religious, eco-nomic, or racial superiority, people seek to dominate others and their cultures. Frequently people of dominant cultures are uncon-scious of the oppressive power they exert over minority cultures (people who, because of their ethnic origins, are excluded from group decision making); they take their cultural superiority for granted and relate to minority peoples according to cultural stereotypes of their inferiority.9 A stereotype is a set image that a people has of peoples that differ from them; it is a shorthand, but faulty and often unjust, method of handling or grasping a complex world of people. 4. People who are culturally oppressed are likely to become extremely sensitive to the dominant culture's symbols of coercive power. When people of minority cultures move into the main-stream, the resulting contact of cultures is not an abstract concept, but a high order of human drama. The plot and its crosscurrents, its motives and motifs, are played out by a ghostly cast of hang-ers- on, by prejudice, longing, fear.~° 5. When people of different cultures meet for the first time, they tend to react in two or three stages. First, they are fasci-nated by and even enjoy visible cultural differences in, for exam-ple, cuisine and entertainment. Later they experience disillusionment or friction when the difficulties of communication outweigh their enthusiasm for cultural diversity. If they strive to overcome the cultural obstacles to communication, they move to interaction--the experience of authentic multiculturalism. Most never get beyond the second stage. Multiculturalism and Internationality Multiculturalism is often an emotive word, "a buzzword with almost as many meanings as there are mouths to utter it.''11 Most commonly, however, the word is used technically in one of three ways. Demographic multiculturalism means that a particular soci-ety contains different cultural groups; holistic multiculturalism means that a society values cultural diversity, but gives higher priority to group-wide cohesion; political multiculturalism, as a 330 Review for Religious social philosophy; acknowledges the legitimate concerns of ethnic groups within a society or an organization and the need for these interests to be expressed in adequate politico-economic struc-tures and processes. Political multiculturalists seek to establish structures that allow by right minority peoples to be fully involved in decision making in matters that affect their lives. They foster a balance between the demands of overall group cohesion and inner cultural diversity. Multiculturalism, in these three senses, normally applies to situations within the same country; interna-tionality is multiculturalism as applied to relationship.s between separate countries. Political multiculturalism, historically, is a reaction against policies of cultural oppression. Phrases or terms such as "the melt-ing pot approach to immigrants," "cultural pluralism," and "inte-gration" are often synonymous with covert or overt programs to destroy minority cultures by forcing them to be assimilated into the dominant culture. Critical decisions are made about minority peoples and their future without their participation. Another insidious form of oppression is cultural romanticism. Here the dominant culture, using the classicist definition of culture, fosters romantic visions of minority cultures, emphasizing what is thought to be the exotic or strange features of these cultures (dances, rit-uals). People of the dominant culture claim "it would be a pity if such cultures disappeared." Minority peoples are made to feel like inanimate museum pieces to be called out to entertain peo-ple of the dominant culture at politically correct times and then to retire to their inferior positions when the need ceases. Case Studies Case studies are detailed observations of connected processes in individual and group experience thfit help us to understand complex social phenomena and to see ways in which theoretical principles and insights may be applied. I suggest that readers reflect on the following case studies, asking themselves--before ~ssessing my own comments~how the above theoretical clarifi-cations apply in each instance. 1. A General Chapter in Confusion An international congregation of clerical religious met in gen-eral chapter for two months. A participant from a first-world May-~une 1995 331 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality country reported his experience and that of many others: "During the first two weeks, there was a great spirit of internationality and friendship. Each group explained through song, dances, food, and visual displays the qualities of their cultural origins. We espe-cially enjoyed the presentations from the joy-filled third-world countries; they made our Western productions look rather dull in contrast. Then something happened, and it still puzzles me. Quite suddenly delegates from our third-world provinces began to complain angrily in the general sessions that the translation facilities for them were not as good as for the Western delegates, that they were made to feel inferior in committee meetings by never being asked for their opinions . I and others still cannot understand this anger, especially because we did everything pos-sible to give them the first places for their cultural presentations. These are the same people we have helped for so long with gifts for their formation houses and missions. They seem to be ungrate-ful. Perhaps we have failed to teach them the right way to act in international gatherings. The chapter ended without these peo-ple realizing that they had undermined the good spirit of the gathering." Comment: In this case study the delegate has unwittingly adopted the narrow classicist view of culture and moves from enthusiasm for cultural diversity to disillusionment; internation-ality for him and other Western delegates is restricted to such relatively inconsequential things as eating foreign food and admir-ing other people's exotic dances. Influenced by this approach to culture, he' is prevented from understanding the requirements for authentic multiculturalism and internationality within the chap-ter and congregation. Third-world delegates are reacting against a well-entrenched tradition of paternalism and cultural superior-ity on the part of the dominant culture. They rightly want to be accepted for what they are: members of the same congregation, with human experiences and insights of value to all. 2. Romanticism Destroys Formation ' .An international clerical religious congregation, founded last century in Europe, had developed several formation houses in third-world countries. In a report to an international meeting on initial formation in the congregation, the superior general wrote: "We thank God for so many vocations from [these lands]. Because [these lands] are extremely poor, the people so happy and carefree 332 Review for Religious and their cultures so unsophisticated, we have decided for now not to insist on the same rigorous screening criteria for appli-cants nor on the high-level academic and religious life formation that we have in the West. When you meet these students, you immediately feel their happiness and fine community spirit. They will make good religious, but we must not expect them to measure up to our professional standards for some time to come." Comment: The superior general, in his high praise for the cultures of the students, is a cultural romanti-cist, even an unconscious racist. The cultures he refers to are group-ori-ented ones; that is, they emphasize the need for public harmony at all costs, so that tensions and unre-solved, conflicts are kept hidden, but remain ready to explode into vio-lence at any time. The general's inability to recognize this deprives students of their right in justice to be trained professionally for min-istry, trained (for example) to under-stand objectively the cultural forces that influence their lives and those of their people. The ~eneral also makes a racist judgment, namely, that the students from poor techno-logical cultures are incapable of the Third-world delegates are reacting against a well-entrenched tradition of paternalism and cultural superiority on the part of the dominant culture. They rightly want to be accepted for what they are: members of the same congregation, with human experiences and insights of value to all. levels of learning expected in Western formation systems. Finally, the congregation is international, but the general is setting the stage for a two-tier membei'ship: persons with sophisticated edu-cation from Western countries and educationally deprived per-sons from the third world. This means that third-world members of the congregation will effectively be excluded from taking up leadership positions at the international level. 3. Theory and Practice Clash A congregation of brotherb from Europe has worked in Asia for over fifty years, but with no lasting success in recruiting or May-June 1995 333 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality retaining local candidates. Several former brothers of Asian ori-gin commented to me through an intermediary about their expe-rience: "The region was established from a Western nation. After our training we were sent to communities in which most reli-gious were from this foreign country. They were good people, but during recreation they always spoke in -English, never in our language, and the topics of conversation commonly were about incidents and characters of their formation days in Europe or the latest sporting event at home. Then from time to rime they would make ethnic iokes at the expense of our own people, putting them down, and we were expected to laugh as they did. It became so painful that we complained, but we were told to think 'interna-tionally,' not with provincial minds! It became too much so we left." Comment: I sense that the foreigners in this Asian region are totally unaware of their cultural imperialism; it is as if they have never left their homeland, and their use of ethnic jokes illustrates their lack of cultural sensitivity. Ethnic jokes are common in most societies, but examination shows that the object of such jokes is "to put down" members of other cultures and present one's own group as normal and superior. Ethnic jokes are unjust and can be most painful to members of minority groups, who nevertheless are expected, if present when the jokes are told, to laugh submissively and accept the ascribed expression of inferiority.~2 4. Inculturation Expectations Collapse One Mexican American sister recorded her frustration and that of many others: "I became a member of a North American congregation before Vatican II. We Mexican Americans were (and are still) in the minority; the majority are white third- or fourth-generation Americans. During my training we had to divorce our-selves from our families, and I cannot even begin to express what this meant to me and other Mexican American sisters. With the coming of Vatican II, I thought at last I can be a religious and a Mexican American at the same time. Our chapters spoke of the need for inculturation and multiculturalism in our communities and apostolates as priorities. When I and others attempted to take this priority seriously, all kinds of problems emerged. For example, members of my family began to visit frequently, openly using our language for conversation and prayer. Other community members began to object, sometimes hinting or saying directly to 334 Review for Religious me: 'You are disturbing our peace with so many relatives, espe-cially. distant ones, coming to see you. And why don't they speak in English? They should because this is America!'" Comment: Hispanic cultures traditionally emphasize the fam-ily as the basic unit of identity, in vivid contrast to the mainstream American culture, in which individuals claim identity for them-selves independently of family ties. When the congregational chapter in the above case study enthusiastically supports incul-turation and multiculturalism, they are unaware of the implications for individuals and communities. Individualism has become such an unquestioned way of life for the dominant culture in the con-gregation that most members cannot conceive of any alternative lifestyle. Hence, the culture clash. References to inculturation and multiculturalism in chapters remain pure rhetoric. 5. Popular Religiosity Unappreciated~ An international congregation, founded last century in Europe, and with many communities in North America, sought candidates for the first time among Hispanic Americans. For a short time it received several candidates, but the formation leader reported that "they did not survive for long either in the training programs or later in our communities." Several who had left com-mented, and this is a representative view: "My formation house was cheerless, without life, and the communities I lived in after profession were no better. Liturgies were dull, filled with words, but no color or movement. I felt myself dying spiritually. I com-plained to the provincial, and she commented: 'I cannot under-stand you. We provide you with highly trained formators, but you still complain.' The director of formation tried to listen to me and said she understood, so the following month she bought Mexican rugs and ornaments and put them around the house, saying 'This will make you immigrant people feel at home with us!' It did not. We still felt like aliens, unable to pray in devo-tional ways that make sense to us. The sad thing is that no one understood. No wonder Hispanics leave religious life~" Comment: In this case study, there is a serious clash between popular religiosity characteristics of many Hispanic peoples and the standard ways of praying within contemporary North American Catholicism. The inability 5o appreciate popular reli-giosity and the tendency to condemn it as "primitive, supersti-tious nonsense" continues to alienate countless Hispanics from May-June 1995 335 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality Unless candidates are freely able t~o relate the spirituality offered them to their own rich cultural religious experience, it will remain totally alien to them. the church today.~3 At its core popular religiosity is a storehouse of values offering answers of Christian wisdom to the great ques-tions of life. It creatively combines the divine and the human, Christ andMary, spirit and body, intelligence, imagination, and emotion in ways that are colorful and imaginative. Devotions to saints and pious practices--once part of mainstream American Catholic life--are integral features of popular religiosity. ,4. Hispanic Catholics complain, however, that the liturgies of mainstream Ca.tholicism today are cqmmonly too "heady," formal, and unimaginative. In the case study, Hispanic can-didates and religious are unjustly pressured to conform to the domi-nant culture's religious expression.s. This is a tragedy, at several levels. Neither the provincial nor the for-mator has any appreciation of the nature and power of culture; the for-mator assumes, without even asking the. candidates, that culture is syn-onymous with what we see, Bring in a few artifacts and minority peoples will "feel at home." The can-didates understandably feel insulted and misunderstood. Unless the candidates are freely able to relate the spirituality offered them to their own rich cultural religious experience, it will remain totally alien to them. 6. Congregational Colonialism Returns A congregation based in the United States had formally estab-lished a province in Africa. After some years it was decided uni-laterally by the general government to suppress the province for reasons of administrative and financial efficiency and to reunite the community of African sisters within the original province in the United States. The full provincial administration--all Americans-- visited the assembly of African sisters to explain the situation, but to their surprise they were met with considerable anger. An African sister spoke feelingly for her group: "Finance is not our primary need. We are prepared to be poor, provided we can gov-ern ourselves. Now by the adminstrative change we feel again 336 Review for Religious overwhelmed by the presence of the United States, and we are made tQ feel small and unimportant. You have economic and polit-ical power. Now we have none and must submit to a culture of dependency and inferiority!" The provincial administration could not understand this and ieported to the general that the African communities "had come under the influence of Marxism." Comment: There is little need to comment. In their reactions to the adminstrative change, the African sisters are fearful of a return to a new and degrading congregational colonialism. The American administration is unaware that their African sisters have been made to feel inferior under earlier administrative organiza-tional cultures. The failure~ to consult the African sisters about the decision reinforces their understandable distrust of both the provincial and the general administrations. The provincial admin-istrat. ion, by blaming the African sisters for the negativity, sees no need to examine its own cultural assumptions. Conclusion The task of expressing the consecrated life in diverse cultures today is one of the great challenges for its future. --Instrumentum Laboris §93, Synod of Bishops 1994 ° Thevision of multiculturalism is inspiring but rarely achieved in concrete ways. A reason for this is the failure to clarify the meaning of cul~ure. Culture is not primarily the lifestyles of peo-ple; rather, it is a group's sense of its identity, its inner history of struggling for equality, just, ice, and respect for human dignity. Through multiculturalism (and internationality) people of dif-ferent cultures commit themselves to grow humanly together in justice and charity, while respecting and learning from the legit-imate cultural differences of each other. ' Multiculturalism demands ongoing conversion to the mission of Christ, "a profound transformation of mentalities and ways of living" (Instrumentum laboris §93).If religious do not struggle to achieve this transformation, they are not true to the prophetic nature of their commitment, for the values and practice of mul-ticulturalism and internationality are everywhere desperately needed. Moreover, religious committed to refoundingotheir con-gregations would do well to ponder a lesson of history: Energy for the founding and refounding of communities comes from multi-culturalism and internationality. As Raymond.Hostie notes: May-June 1995 337 Arbuckle ¯ Multiculturalism, Internationality "Cistercians, Norbertines, Dominicans, Carmelites, Jesuits, and Piarists all emerged from groups .whose members belonged to three nationalities, even four or five . Heterogeneity is a nec-essary condition for activating effective fermentation."~s Notes 1 See Walter Wink, Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination (Minneapolis: Fortress PreSs, 1992), pp. 195-207. 2 See David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins. 22, no. 15 (1992): 272, and Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 48. 3 ~ee an earlier article of mine on aspects of this theme: "Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel," Review for Religious 46, no. 3 (May-June 1987): 351-370. 4 Pedro Arrupe SJ, cited by Michael Amaladoss SJ, "Inculturadon and Internationality," East Asian Pastoral Review 29, no. 3 (1992): 23% s See Gerald A. Arbuckle SM, Earthing the Gospel: An Inculturation Handbook for the Pastoral Worker (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1990), pp. 26- 78, and "Understanding Ethnicity, Multiculturalism, and Inculturation," Human Development 14, no. 1, pp. 8-10. 6 On this point I would differ from M. Amaladoss's excellent article cited above, pp. 241-243. 7 See E Lopez, Pastoral Care in an Emerging World (Sydney: Marist Centre for Pastoral Care, 1994), p. 302. s See Arbuckle, Refou. nding the Church: Dissent for Leadership (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993), p. 111. 9 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 147-166. ~0 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 166-186. it R. Hughes, Culture of Complaint: The Fraying of America (New York: Oxford University Press, 1993), p. 83. ,2 See Arbuclde, Earthing, pp. 162f. 13 See Allan Figueroa Deck SJ, The Second Wave: Hispanic Ministry and the Evangelization of Cultures (New York: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 54- 119. ,4 See Arbuckle, Earthing, pp. 108-112. 15 The Life and Death of Religious Orders: A Psycho-Sociological Approach, (Washington D.C.: CARA, 1983), p. 259. 338 Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Accompanying New-Age People '7have often thought . . . if we regard the bomb (or world .~. hunger or the dying seas) as a monstrous demonic injus-tice, that must mean we never, somehow on some level, never took it seriously: the injunction to love. The stuff Jesus was talk-ing about and the Buddha." So wrote Joanna Macy somewhere; and, I believe, the same may well be said regarding the New Age movement (NAM) or, more correctly, the extreme variety of it focused on by the media: images of anything from psychic phe-nomena through esoteric beliefs in crystal gazing and spirit chan-neling to weird fads in self-centered or willful behavior going by the name of cosmic wisdom, My interest--"follow your allurement," Joseph Campbell would say--in writing on this new Western phenomenon comes from two semesters I spent a few years ago with an international group of some seventy people most of whom were Westerners carried along in the the New Age wave.1 We were, of all places, at a Catholic college in California where I had hoped to learn some new exciting approaches to Christian spirituality. Before long, however, I had to contend with some so-called spirituality that seemed anything but Christian. For one thing, "once a Christian, never again a Christian" was the prevailing mood of the majority, some of whom became more and more aggressive towards anything Christian. One time I could not refrain from remarking to my companions that as a group we could be toler-ant and respectful of every tradition except Christian. With so A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote this article from experiences he had while doing graduate studies in spirituality at Holy Names College in Oakland, California. His address is Satyodayam; 12-5-33, S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. May-.3~une 1995 339 Dominic * Accompanying New-Age People much bashing of Christianity in my spiritual circle, I felt like a fish--an ichthus--in a cesspool. As time went on, however, I felt different. I saw things dif-ferently; empathy brought some insight. Coming to hear the per-sonal stories of my companions, all of whom were quondam Christians (Protestant and, like Joseph Campbell himself, Catholic), I could not but feel and formulate that they sought and found this New Age haven because the Christianity of their experience had gone awry; their lives had become an enormous unhealed and unhealing hurt, like Carol Christ's. (She had suffered her incompatible marriage for years until one day, in a terrible skiing accident, she instinctively hoped that her death would make her a martyr to the indissolubility of marriage, only to find her-self still alive and confined to a hospital bed. She decided that she had had enough of the marriage she had entered upon in church, eventually giving up her Christianity too and discovering New Age freedom.) One thirtyish woman among my companions had for years suffered trauma upon trauma because her parents would not listen to her stoW of sexual abuse by a close relative, but instead would tell her to go to confession every time she brought up her nagging distress. Her anguish came to an end when she found a hearing among New Age friends of hers. Another woman who had been quite a staunch Catholic in her youth spoke of the joyless vision of life she grew up with as she prayed about the vale of tears instead of the original blessing (this is a three-word mantra of New Agers) of the universe. Seconding them, a man-- a religious brother in good standing--declared nevertheless that the church had constricted and restricted his humanity by its leaden dos and don'ts. In the New Age covenant groups, all of them found, or thought they had found, what they had missed out on during their childhood or adolescent Christianity. Obviously, in all such cases, whatever in their new associa-tion they perceived to be filling their psychological or spiritual needs was something basically Christian, however unaware of this they were because of the unresponsive, unenlightened, and per-haps even false practice of Christianity with which they had been contending. From this discerningperspective New Age spirituality may be said to embrace within itself certain Christian elements at their best which somehow for whatever reason were found miss-ing in avowed Christian circles, whether they were couples or homes or schools or seminaries or rectories or dioceses or, of 340 Review for Religious course, the Vatican (the veritable b~te noire of former Catholics finding their berth in the New Age). I would, then, dispute the claim of the NAM to offer a spirituality for a post-Christian world, and I would point out that, despite the NAM's aversion to Christianity, quite a few of its genuine experiences have been, in many times and places, very much at home in Christianity. As the New Age plays the queen of all it surveys and declares it to be "the post-Christian world," I would submit that her declaration is in vain for the simple reason that she herself has made a home for genuine Christian elements forgotten or forsaken. Ironically, thanks to her the church and Christianity have an unsuspected way of coming into their own. Perhaps this is what a deacon's twenty-year-old daughter--quite unlike my companions--meant when she said: "Don't get me wrong. I don't hate the church. I just want it to be better than it is. I want it to be alive--not what some old deacon thinks is alive, but my kind of alive . -2 It is not fanciful but altogether pleasantly surprising to find how, for all the avowed antagonism to Christ among those sab-batical- year companions of mine, Christ made himself discreetly, unobtrusively present. Have we not heard about the unknown Christ of non-Christian religions? Perhaps in the New Age circle of my acquaintance he was not so much unknown as unacknowl-edged, unwanted, and even (unsuccessfully) banished. A former seminarian, for instance, confessed virulently that he had no need of Christ to save him for he had nothing to be saved from. Christ, however, kept himself in their midst in an unintrusive manner. That, perhaps, is the very nature of Christ. I was led willy-nilly to think in this way by observing the effect a song had on some my of New Age friends. Of all the songs we used for the circle dance, the Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison especially charmed the most conspicuously anti-Christian one among us. I could not help chuckling over the archetypal trickster role Christ resorted to in order to reach out to one who had rejected him consciously and deliberately. If New Agers would "let go" (a favorite expres-sion of theirs) of Christ, Christ would let them, but he would not let go of them. While we rejoice in this latent presence of Christ in the NAM, we would do well to ask our'selves how much of Christ we, the people of present-day Christianity, hold on to~ Whatever of Christ we had, did it convey so untrue an image of him that someone close to us chose to turn his or her back on him? Why else did a May-.~ne 1995 341 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People young man make bold to say: "The picture we have of the Christian church as a continuation of the fellowship Jesus set in motion is a gross distortion" ? 3 If it is, is it not high time that we regrasp Christ and make more of a home for him in our churches so that people cannot avoid seeing and meeting him there? Now is a good time for the church to let the "Christ before Christianity" address himself to it so that it may come to know him afresh in a renewal of the reign of God that he initiated. The New Age, reacting against the present age of Christianity, seeks its roots in an age older than our familiar ancient civiliza-tions. It has found, however, a certain remnant of Christian tra-dition appealing to it, namely, the mystical tradition. So it would revive the memory of mystics like Mechtild of Magdeburg and Meister Eckhart who are credited with having drawn heavily from the chthonic and matriarchal era of humanity. Whatever the rea-son for the NAM's reverence for these Christian mystics, thought-ful Christians can think of them only as Christians and not in any other terms. Will it not be true to say that Christian mystics were more Christian than mystic, having become mystics precisely by their way of being Christian? Th.e acceptability of some Christian mystics to New Age reli-gionists (I say "some" because they find others such as Augustine and Ignatius Loyola distinctly unacceptable) should not be mat-ter for any triumphalism inasmuch as the NAM goes for all mys-ticism. Instead, the New Age's mystical interests must serve to open our eyes to what we have lost sight of, namely, the mystical horizon of the Christian universe from its very inception in Christ. How many can resonate with the declaration made by William Johnston that Christianity indeed originates in the mystical expe-rience of Christ, reaching its climax in his resurrection? How many will be persuaded by Johnston's sweeping view of our mys-tical heritage, starting with Christ, handed down by Paul, kept alive by the fathers of the church, cherished by the medieval mys-tics, and shared in even by the simple people whom Poulain found in his time and Johnston and others recognize in ours? Given the mystical strain of Christianity, he suggests that reflection on our mystical experience, together with the reflection on conversion that Bernard Lonergan advocates, could form the basis of our theology in the future.4 In keeping with the New Age penchant for all forms of mys-ticism of whatever origin, one crusader of the NAM, Matthew 342 Review for Religious Fox, has come up with a dozen or so running definitions of mys-ticism, qualifying almost everyone to be a self-designated mys-tic. However one may critique such New Age eclecticism, there is behind it such a thing as the real intention (to use Neuro- Linguistic Programming's term) that is certainly right and praise-worthy insofar as it only culls the beautiful wherever it finds it. This is one of the ways in which the New Age can pose a challenge to religions to recover their original spirit and. shed whatever has become unnecessarily hidebound,s Aiming at such a breakthrough, the New Age attends to the different religions as to a story and not a lecture;6 and so it can appropriately respond to the turns and twists and leads and plots of the different religious stories, thus creating a new story and generating a new spirituality. All modern, sensible Christians cannot but see in all this a certain spirit of ecumenism. However much official church pronouncements eulo-gize and emphasize the modern Christian spirit as ecumenical, the ecumenical practice in church life worldwide is not conspicuously vigorous even if present. How many have Christianity enough to hate but not to love, whether in Northern Ireland or Rwanda or the former Yugoslavia or other large and small places! What thoughtful Christian could fail to agree with what a New Age writer has remarked: "For many peo-ple, religion has become a force that creates enemies and teaches distrust and disrespect for differences, rather than a force that truly builds the human family and the meaning that sustains us"?7 Seen from this perspective, New Age eclecticism could well be practical ecumenism, something that Christians ideally seek to realize in their communities vis-~a-vis other religious communities. Here as elsewhere it is better to make mistakes and progress by learning from them than to play safe, avoiding mistakes only to make the big mistake of getting stuck in the status quo and then regressing. It is certainly high time to vindicate the bold inspira-tion of John XXIII and the proud heritage he bequeathed to his church, to all of Christianity, and to all the world. Will it not be true to say that Christian mystics were more Christian than mystic, having become mystics precisely by their way of being Christian? May-j~lne 1995 ~ 343 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-AgePeople No story has been told of how this pope got the idea of con-vening an ecumenical council. But what if it had come to him in a dream? Whatever the hierarchy or the theologians or the church's rank and file might think about such a story, New Agers would not at all find it odd or shocking. They set store on their dreams, treasuring them as the nocturnal gifts of the Universe or the collective unconscious that counterbalance an overmuch influ-ence of the conscious reasoning power of the waking hours. They are intent on keeping a regular and detailed record of them, going to great lengths sometimes to stimulate and then recall them, pondering over them daily (reminiscent of the "additional direc-tives" in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola and also reminiscent of formal religious practice itself). They have their guru in C.G. Jung, who not only developed a mythological and mystical approach to dreams, but also left behind his conviction that dreams can be read by anyone who meditates on them long enough. Many New Age people would resonate with Henry Miller's experiences: "The realization that there was a pattern to my life, one which made sense, came about in a curious way. Shortly after moving into the Villa Seurat, I had begun to record my dreams. And not only the dreams but the associations which the act of transcribing them induced. Doing this over a period of months, I suddenly began to see, 'To suddenly see,' as Saroyan says somewhere. A pregnant phrase--to anyone who has had the experience. An expression which has only one meaning: to see with new eyes.''8 New Age people believe in the newness brought about by dreams on all levels (personal and social) and domains (artistic, scientific, philosophic, and theosophic) of humanity. They see themselves as cocreators of new humanity, thanks to the creative potential of dreams breaking through the premature closure of thought represented for them by the dictum that rev-elation was complete with the death of the last apostle. Though the real point of the theological dictum might be missed by New Age people, their rediscovery of dreams is some-thing that may be missed by church people. For one thing, we must realize that, along with all religious cultures, the Judeo- Christian tradition too has developed its own perspective of dreams. Abraham Lincoln is reported to have remarked some-thing obvious and yet valuable enough to appear as the epigraph of a Christian book on dreams: "How much there is in the Bible about dreams! . . . If we believe the Bible, we must accept the 344 Review for Religious fact that, in the old days, God and his angels came to humans in their sleep and made themselves known in dreams.''9 There are sensible Christians who would wager that what happened in the old biblical days can and does continue to hap-pen even today for God's people, especially if God is the Revealer of Mysteries and also of our inmost thoughts (Dn 2:29-30), direct-ing our hearts even at night (Ps 16:7). Those who think in this line and yet are not very sure about the meaning of their dreams may well be enlightened by the remark of an anonymous author: "It is very interesting to see that all the dreams reported by religious fig-ures in the New Testament and in early Christianity do not require any interpreting at all. They are nearly always straightforward messages of encouragement from God.''~° A simple Tamil farmer, for instance, could appreciate this. In a dream he saw a leprosy patient asking him for a glass of water and he gave him one, but only after much hesitation until he heard a clear voice telling him to get up and read Matthew,25:35. On waking he looked up the passage: "I was hungry and you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink." Those in the Catholic tradition with their cult of saints may well draw inspiration from the way the saints benefited from their dreams even after reflecting on dreams fell into disrepute in the church in the middle of the 4th century. To recall a saint of recent history, John Bosco (1815-1888) certainly cherished his dreams and shared them with others. At the age of nine, he had a dream which recurred repeatedly for some eighteen years. First he saw himself surrounded by spoiled urchins and trying noisily and forcibly to control them; a man of noble bearing and great radi-ance called him by name and bade him do his work kindly and gently; then he saw a lady of beauty and majesty changing all sorts of wild animals into gentle lambs and asking him to do the same to her children. Through that dream he could in the course of time envision more and more the future establishment of his Besides their serious attention to dreams, New Age people have discovered in ancient cultures something else, the celebration of rituals. May-d~ne 1995 345 Dominic * Accompanying New-Age People Oratory and the spread of his work.11 Whatever spiritual profit accrued to the saints by way of dreams can become a matter of our own experience because each one of us is a special sort of a saint, an idea that NAM would laud heartily. Besides their serious attention to dreams, New Age people have discovered in ancient cultures something else, the celebra-tion of rituals. New Age celebrants perform some of the old rit-uals related to mythological tales like that of Demeter and Persephone, hoping to be empowered by them. They resurrect the rituals of the seasons, wanting to be in tune with the rhythm of the earth and the energy of the sun. They reenact and update the rit-uals of passage of human life from birth, through adulthood and marriage, to death. No wonder, then, that after the violent death of one of my compaflions, a New Age former Catholic, there was held a ritual which included a long circle dance with the song "We all come from the goddess / and to her shall we return / like the drops of waters / flowing to the ocean," followed by the unex-pected eerie cry of a woman almost beside herself swearing to avenge her friend's death. Of all the rituals the pride of place would go to the ritual of the maze. It consists in meandering through a maze to reach the inner center and then making one's way back to the outer rim. Interestingly, it developed out of, or at least came to be associated with, the archetype of the spiral that manifests itself in the total spectrum of the universe from the shape of the galaxies through that of the atomic space to that of the DNA helix. One may wonder ivhether this ritual has not pen-etrated beneath humanity's consciousness when one realizes the enthusiasm aroused by the variety of mazes or labyrinths extant even today in various countries such as Sweden, Japan, and Britain--this last, incidentally, declared 1991 the Year of the Maze. Two of the friends in our group decided to plight their love to each other singing their way through a labyrinth far from the madding crowd deep in a quiet valley open to the azure gaze of the California sky and in the presence, of course, of those who had journeyed with them. I wonder whether New Age revelers resorting to renewed or newfound rituals have known the wise words of the Tat Te Ching: "Ritual is but the crust of loyalty and good faith, / And the begin-ning of discord.''12 1 would, however, add this observation. Though some of their rituals can be weird, others are truly inspiring and religious. The ceremony "Remembering the Way," created by 34.6 Review for Religious Joan M. McMillen, for instance, honoring the eight-hundred-year- old labyrinth in the Cathedral of Chartres, with its evocative music even using Latin in a whole stanza and its call to let go, builds up a climax of expectancy in everyone, ending with the final song of calm assurance: "Sooner or later, everyone finds their way. / Wholly without, embracing; wholly within, ful-filling. / Go I know not where, seek I know not what. / Sooner or later, everyone comes home." That a genuine spiritual experience can be built around a long-forgotten and unused maze in the French cathedral is an eloquent symbol for me of the untapped, undying springs of spir-ituality hidden not only in the heart, but in the history of the church. Thus, the ritual celebrations at the vernal equinox and the winter solstice can with a little imagination be linked with the feasts of the Annunciation and Christmas, respectively, lead-ing people to experience heaven even on the way to heaven and that in an earthly way--as has been done, for instance, at the Jesuit retreat house in Sedalia, Colorado. So also, the simple drumming and dancing and singing of native peoples all over the globe have a spiritual potential that the church can effectively make its own with respect and gratitude and joy.13 In these matters the church does not need to conduct first-time experiments, but need only reclaim riches from its distant past. For example, even in the cenobitic times, long before churches of the medieval period served as stages for the enter-tainment that morality plays provided, the church building was already considered a festive hall?4 The modern church has been made newly festive mostly by the charismatic renewal, which is largely an urban phenomenon; it must become open to some of the festivity of "pagan" (from the Latin pagus "country district," as New Agers point out) or "rural" areas, the places of aboriginal roots. The New Age movement manifests an earthy or creation-ori-ented spirituality. Clear expressions of it--and extreme ones if understood literally instead of metaphorically--are "Mother Earth" and "Mother Nature." A literal understanding would go beyond James Lovelock's Gaia hypothesis and would conceive the earth as a living entity, with a life of its own on which ours depends. It would understand the divine principle as not only being in nature, but being nature itself. There would be no room for transcendence here. Everything of earth would be sacred, in May-j~ne 1995 347 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People particular the whole of human nature without any distinction between matter and spirit. A less extreme position about all this would be analogous to Copernicus's. As he saw Earth displaced from center stage, people would see themselves displaced from their superior position as the thinking species separated from the rest of nature and would give the preeminence to the whole of the universe and especially to Earth, unique planet that it seems to be, making it Earth's universe par excellence with a history of fifteen billion years or so. Comparable to this cosmological posi-tion would be this theological position: Since the earth is of such an age compared with which the whole of human history is no more than a brief moment, the point of departure for theologiz-ing should be the original blessing of the earth rather than the original fall. Aside from the first and most extreme position above--a fer-vid New Ager like Carol Christ, however, would prefer not to make such distinctions--the other two positions could easily become the ideal Christian view of earth. Though the Christian West may have used and overused the earth to the point of abuse, Christian sources tell a different story. The Bible opens with the story of the earth and all creation, in which the divinity finds due delight because of the imprint of the divine goodness all through it, Hopkins's one line "The world is charged with the grandeur of God" says it well, and so does Elizabeth Browning's couplet "Earth's crammed with heaven / And every common bush afire with God"--both reminiscent of the psalmist's familiar words "How great is your name, O Lord our God, / through all the earth!" (Ps 8:9). It is quite a revelation, is it not, that God provided a power-ful answer--through not a directly reasoned answer--to the bur-den of Job's anguished questions by encountering him as the God of creation's awesomely rich variety? "Ever since God created the world, his everlasting power and deity--however invisible--have been there for the mind to see in the things he has made" (Rm 1:20). It is no wonder, then, that, whenever God enters into a covenant with his human creation, he carries conviction by invok-ing the enduring solidity of his natural creation in such words as these: "Yahweh who provides the sun for light by day, the moon and stars for light by night, who stirs the sea, making its waves roar, he whose name is Yahweh Sabaoth, says this: Were this estab-lished order ever to pass away from my presence--it is Yahweh 348 Review for Religious who speaks--only then would the race of Israel also cease to be a nation in my presence forever" (Jr 31:35-36). This creation, however, is not as pure as it was originally because of original sin and all the successive sins of humanity. In spite of that, or' perhaps because of it, Paul could visualize the present thus: "The whole creation is eagerly waiting for God to reveal his sons. It was not for any fault on the part of creation that it was made unable to attain its purpose, itwas made so by God; but creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slaver~ to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning till now the entire cre-ation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giv-ing birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first-fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bod-ies to be set free" (Rm 8:19-23). This visualization of all cre-ation, human as well as hatural, contains in an embryonic man-ner all the challenges and hopes Some, then, would say: Since the earth is of such an age compared with which the whole of human history is no more than a brief moment, the point of departure for theologizing should be the original blessing of the earth rather than the original fall. engendered and cherished by enlightened earthlings in relation to their earth, which, for all the ravages caused to it, is still humble, fertile, homely, and motherly. And so we learn to reverence cre-ation and earth and matter as St. John Damascene taught: "Through it, filled, as it were, with a divine power and grace, my salvation has come to me." At the end of a crescendo of ques-tions, he asks: "And, before all these things, is not the Body and Blood of our Lord matter? Do not despise matter, for it is not despicable.''~s These words are surely evocative of Teilhard de Chardin (quite a model for New Age faithful), but not only of him but of Ighatius Loyola (quite unacceptable to the New Age, though of him Teilhard has said that he could no more disown him than he could his own father), from whose Spiritual Exercises Teilhard had learned not a little about the divine milieu of the May-June 199Y 349 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People It is high time that we take the commandment of love seriously with regard to the way we look at New Age people. earth. In particular in the Contemplation to Attain Love he must have obtained a new vision of the universe in which he could find not only all things in God but God in all things.16 The dynamics of this vision is traced by Gilles Cusson thus: "The final fulfillment of God's revealed plan of salvation, which is a mystery of love expressed in the gratuitous calls to creation and salvation, is the pro-gressive movement of the world toward God, through the coming of the Christ who assumed the totality of our human condition; of the world which, now renewed, finds again on itself the divine mark of its origin and the sublime ordination which God's creative act had imprinted on it."~7 To conclude as we began, it is high time that we take the com-mandment of love seriously with regard to the way we look at New Age people. To the conservative and cocksure among us, some of them may appear to be freaks. But, as one of their fold, Jacquelyn Small, suggests somewhere, "What would Love do?" must be our constant question and search. By reading the signs of the times with a decided spirit of love, one may come to find many an admirable pearl of spirituality in the field of the New Age move-ment. These are to be valued in themselves and are worth redeem-ing for our church and ourselves, for we must love not only our neighbor but ourselves as well. Surely not everything in the New Age's,field is valuable, but among New Age leaders there are, for-tunately, some who dispute whatever is disingenuous and dehu-manizing and disintegrating. A witness to this reality I chanced to find in David Spangler, who in speaking of the New Age describes something that I as a Christian applaud: The shape of the new age takes on ordinary proportions for me. I find it, for example, in nurturing my marriage or in gracefully meeting the demands of parenthood. I find a new age in my craft and improving my work. I find it-in ¯ my questions about myself that impel me to confront my shortcomings and boundaries. I find it in the never ending quest to understand the nature and purpose of a God who 350 Review for Religious is not simply--or even primarily--the inner divinity that so many new age writers focus on, but the evocative Other whose very differences impel me to reach beyond myself and participate in the larger communion and community of life. I find the new age in the daily effort we share to live with integrity, grow with courage, and be a willing partner with life to allow expression of dreams and capabilities.~8 Accompanying New Age adherents in the spirit developed in the pages above would be a way to implement concretely two of the points contained in the call of the Inter-American Assembly of Religious held in 1994 in Santo Domingo, namely, (1) "to reject all that disavows the holiness of our world and its peoples, and instead to embrace our world and its peoples, sharing their con-crete social, economic, cultural, and religious struggles and hopes," and (2) "to reject efforts at evangelization that arise from stances of authoritarian power, and instead to proclaim" the good news and hope of Jesus from within the cultures and the experiences of people." t9 Notes ~ That it has made itself felt in the spiritual world at large is beyond doubt. See The Way, July 1993, devoted entirely to New Age spiritual-ity. 2 Don Gilmore, Extra Spiritual Power (Waco, 1972), p. 90. 3 Ibid, p. 93. 4 See William Johnston, The Inner Eve of Love (London, 1978), pp. 58- 59, and also Luis M. Bermejo, The Allurement of the Summit (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1993), pp. ix, 66, 67, and passim. s See Matthew Fox and Brian Swimme, Manifesto for a Global Civilization (Santa Fe: Bear and Co., 1982), p. 38. 6 See David Spangler, "The New Storytellers," In Context, Winter 1985, p. 19. 7 V. Hull, "New Myths to Live," One Earth, June-July 1986, p. 19. 8 Cited by Jeremy Taylor, Dream Work (New York: Paulist Press, 1983), p. 20. 9 See Louis M. Savary et al., Dreams and Spiritual Growth (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. xi. ~0 Anonymous, Dreams and Destiny (London, 1987), p. 51. ~ SeeJ. Bacchiarello, Forty Dreams of St. John Bosco (Madras, 1969), pp. iv and 2-3. May-3nune 1995 351 Dominic ¯ Accompanying New-Age People ,2 The preceding lines are: When the Way (Tao) fades away, Virtue (7~) raises up, When virtue fades away, humanness (jen) raises up, When humanness fades away, justice (yi) raises" up, When justi6e fades away, the ritual (li) raises upi' --cited by'~Raimon Panikkar, Worship and Secular Man (London, 1973), p. ix. ,3 Happily such were some of the main topics discussed in the work-shop in Canada last year for Jesuits working among the aboriginal peo-ples in different parts of the world. 14 See Panikkar, Worship, p. 85. ,s Cited by Samuel Rayan, "The Earth Is the Lord's," Vidyajyoti, 1990, p. 121. , ,6 Spiritual Exercise¢, §§230-237. 17 Gilles Cusson, Biblical Theology and the Spiritual Exercises (Anand: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash and St. Louis: institute of Jesuit Sources, 1988), p. 323. See also p. 324, n. 34. ,8 New Realities, May-June 1988. 19 Review for Religious 53, no. 4 (July-August 1994): 619-620. Universe Universe becoming befriending and free Summon the more, the maybe, and the not yet from me. Open the winds to enter me in and find gift and seeds and hop~ and flowers knowing that creation comes in longing openness to Mystery. Patricia St Louis CSJ 352 Review for Religious BARBARA VALUCKAS Lithuania: A Return to My Ancestral Home ~hile making my silver-jubilee retreat in 1983, I prayed ~" I¢ over the biblical passages about the year of jubilee. The directive in Leviticus 25 to "return to [your] ancestral home" in the jubilee year penetrated my prayer, bur did not fully infuse my imagination. I was able to name and celebrate many ancestral homes including my family, my church, my religious congregation, and my womanhood. Among these I named my ethriic and cultural roots in Lithuania, but in 1983, several years before the collapse of the Berlin wall, a literal fulfillment of the biblical words was beyond my imagining. I was to learn, however, that it was not beyond God's'imagination for me. I made my,first journey to Lithuania seven years later, just one year after people began streaming through the former Iron Curtain. As provincial of the VVilton, Connecticut, province of the School Sisters of Notre Dame, I was on my way to Hungary via Lithuania to attend an extended general council meeting of our congregation. I encountered a country in the first stages of its exodus experience of freedom. Lithuania,had been the first Soviet-occupied country to declare its° independence. The Sajudis ("Movement") Party sailed into power on a wave of public eupho- Barbara Valuckas SSND works in Pilgrim Ministries to support organi-zational journeys of people worldwide. This article, now slighdy revised, appeared originally in the Eastern Europe issue of LCWR Occasional Papers (March 1995). Her address is Pilgrim Ministries; 9 Academy Hill Road; Watertown, Connecticut 06795. E-mail in U.S.A.: MVV:K5 8 B@Prodigy.com. May-~ne 1995 353 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania ria about all the blessings that would come with freedom and a free market economy. No one then anticipated the long desert trek of turmoil and transition that lay ahead. The effects of five decades of brutal suppression of people and their nation would not dis-appear overnight. When I returned to Lithuania again in 1992 on my way to our general chapter in Rome, the rumblings of popular disillu-sionment had already achieved great momentum. In claiming their independence from Russia, Lithuanians had not fully antic-ipated the economic consequences of being cut off from Russian oil and other commodities. In changing from the ruble economy to one more related to Western currencies, people were jolted by the reality of Western prices. Shadow sides of capitalism were already making their appearance in the form of new unemploy-ment and homelessness; the presence of street beggars shocked people long unaccustomed to such realities. The simple people I met in the countryside expressed their desire to return to.the Egypt of economic security. They said, "At least under the Communists we had enough to eat, and we had heat." These unforeseen shortages of food and fuel helped to bring down the fledgling independence government and to sweep the Communists back as the majority party in Lithuania in the fall. This time, the Communists were not the forcible occupiers, but duly elected officials with a mandate from the people. Many Lithuanians were dazed by this outcome. They could not believe that they had voluntarily elected the same people whose power they had so recently thrown off. They felt stuck in the mud of their own confusion and ambivalence, even as they sought to take the first steps toward rebuilding their country. The rebuilding of every part of Lithuanian life was as daunt-ing a challenge as the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem after it had been totally destroyed. Within my own prayer I could feel the Leviticus jubilee invitation to return to one's ancestral home evolving into a more literal and compelling call. I found myself praying, along with Nehemiah (2:1-8), "If it please the king, and if you are satisfied with your servant, give me leave to go to Judah, to the city of my ancestors' tombs, and rebuild it." I prayed this prayer rather blindly because, from a practical point of view, it was not clear to me what I could contribute in Lithuania. Once again my imagination for myself was not up to God's imagina-tion for me. 354 Review for Religious Although all four of my grandparents had come from Lithuania and both of my parents spoke the language, I quickly moved from Lithuanian to English, as many second-generation children of immigrants do. Consequently, I did not know what I could do in Lithuania when my term as provincial gave way to a sabbatical year. I need not have wor-ried because, with little effort on my part, the doors flew open. After learning of my background in educa-tional television, Msgr. George Sarauskas, of the National Catholic Conference of Catholic Bishops Office to Aid Central and Eastern Europe, invited me to serve as a con-sultant to the newly created Catholic Television Center in Lithuania. In retrospect I can appreciate the loving providence of God, who picked up a thread from my profes-sional past and used it as a "leading string of love" (Hosea 11:4) to tug on my heart and my life, gently pulling it toward my ancestral home. Responding to this leading string, I reappeared in Lithuania in mid August 1993 for the first of two three-month periods of life and work with and for the Lithuanian people. From visitation to our SSND missions on other continents, I had learned the need to approach any kind of rebuilding as a humble learner. The Lithuanian people had to identify what needed rebuilding in the temple of their persons and their nation and how that rebuilding should proceed. My role had to be one of listening, support, and enablement. Sister Donna Steffan SC accompanied me for the first three weeks of my fall 1993 visit. Together we visited people in the cities and the countryside. We asked them to share with us their perceptions of Lithuania's current reality and to tell us what they most needed from the church. At first shyly and tentatively and then with growing trust, they revealed that one of their biggest needs was for people just to listen to their stories. The years of occupation had trained them not to trust anyone; as a result, most people kept their experiences and feelings locked up inside them-selves. They recognized a great need to unburden themselves. One woman described the effects of the occupation with the image in a distorting mirror that we in the West most often associate with the fun house in amusement parks. May-37une 1995 355 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania One woman described the effects of the occupation with the image in a distorting mirror that we in the West most often asso-ciate with the fun house in amusement parks. She said that every Lithuanian learned to live behind at least three faces. The first face was the "pro-Communist" face that one was obliged to show to one's employer and professional colleagues in order to keep one's job. The second face was the one shown to one's family and friends. Even this face had many subtle degrees corresponding to one's trust level. The third face was the one shown to oneself. My friend continued by saying that the overall effect of hav-ing to hide behind three different faces for such a long period of years was a gradual disintegration of the personality and a warp-ing of the soul. So, when Lithuanians look into the mirrors of their souls, it is like looking into a distorted mirror. What they see is not lovely but grotesque. It causes some people to go to con-fession often in the effort to "scrape their souls clean" and to receive constant reassurances of God's love and forgiveness of things they may have said or done behind the first face so as to assure their own survival or that of loved ones. This self-image of distortion was mentioned in one form or another by a number of people who described themselves and their country as "bent" in some way. It suggested to me an image of Lithuania as the bent-over woman described in the Scriptures. Like that woman, Lithuania has lost much blood in its tortured patriots and saints. One bishop, upon meeting me and hearing of my purpose in Lithuania, said, "Help us to stand up straight." Donna and I asked some of the parents with whom we visited if they had new hope for the future now that Lithuania had its independence. The most common reply was that these young and middle-aged couples viewed themselves as already having been "destroyed." If they expressed any hope at all, it was for their children. Many said that the years of occupation had forced them to live "like animals." In the stories of the people, we learned that during the occupation every dimension of human creativity was suppressed in the name of the "people." A carpenter could not design a new piece of furniture nor a dressmaker a new pattern unless the designs were approved by numerous offices in Moscow. The approval, in turn, depended upon the ability of the design to be replicated throughout the Soviet Union to preserve some stated ideal of socialist sameness. Eventually many people "forgot" how to think creatively and learned to do only what they were told. 356 Review for Religious I recently heard a radio interview with an American busi-nessman expressing his frustration with doing business in the for-mer Soviet republics. He said that, no matter what size boards he ordered for his building materials, the ones that were delivered were all the same size, the former Soviet standard size. Apparently the workers had lost the ability to imagine that boards could be cut to any other dimension. To me this was a powerful image of the damage that had been done to the minds and psyches of the people. This sense of damage to human creativity was reinforced by our visits to some of the museums in Lithuania. We were awed by the burst of Lithuanian creativity in music, art, literature and poetry, and sculpture during the brief period of national inde-pendence before the occupation. All of the exhibits seemed to me to come to an abrupt halt in the late 1940s. It was like applying to a whole nation the title of Etty Hillesum's book An Interrupted Life. What happened to all of that creativity for a half century? It appears that a lot of it went into the coordination of the under-ground resistance movements, including the underground church. Many Lithuanians, however, having become atheistic collabora-tors with the occupiers, used their energies to promote the pro-paganda machine. Still others turned their talents to the exploitation of people. After independence all of these forms of creativity continued, but in more open ways. The church, newly emerged from the underground, is using its creative energies to rebuild itself above ground. The collaborators are using their tal-ents at various levels of government, pursuing the old Communist agenda as well as their own self-aggrandizement while they are still in power. And the exploiters have emerged in the black market and in other criminal activities, that include an increase in violence. Some entrepreneurs opening private businesses receive almost instant demands for protection money. Resisters, if not murdered, find their new businesses destroyed. After many decades of being cut off from others, Lithuanians are eager to learn more about the rest of the world. Since most do not have the resources to travel, television becomes their win-dow on that world. The most popular television program in Lithuania today is the American soap opera "Santa Barbara." It is not clear to me if the story line is as important to the viewers as are the infinite clues to the first-world affluent lifestyle that May-j~ine 199Y 357 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania American viewers have come to take for granted. They notice that none of the characters have stainless steel teeth (as many Lithuanians do). They note the large living spaces with beautiful bathrooms, the gorgeous clothes and cars. I once gave a relative of mine some American magazines in a brown envelope, the kind with a small metal clasp. The whole family gathered around that envelope and examined the clasp in great detail. Eventually some-one said, "We saw one of these on Santa Barbara!" When the three weeks of Donna's visit had come to an end, we spent a day of prayer and theological reflection on the mean-ing of our experience together. One of the scriptural images that seemed to gather up those .first weeks of listening was the story of Ruth and Naomi. The unexpected loss in the experience of wid-owhood began that story. God seemed to have cut down their hopes, but in reality was leading them to a fulfillment of these hopes beyond their expectations. Ruth and Naomi chose to remain together as they journeyed into an unknown future. For Donna and me, Lithuania itself was like Ruth and Naomi. Its hopes for its own independence as a nation were ruthlessly cut down. But Lithuania is still in the middle of its story; the end-ing is not clear at all. Lithuania is still trying to nourish itself on the few stalks of grain dropped by reapers in the fields. We could also recognize the fidelity of Ruth and Naomi to each other in many of the Lithuanian people we had met: in the young family which remained faithful to their ill and old grandparents, in the young boy who chose to remain with his mother who was dying of tuberculosis, in the many priests, women religious, and lay people who chose to remain faithful to their religion during the long years of persecution. These choices were all the more coura-geous when one remembers that they were made in the teeth of efforts to break down all forms of fidelity, trust, and solidarity. We understood that we ourselves and others coming from outside the country and walking with the Lithuanian people were echoing Ruth's words "Your people shall be my people." We rec-ognized that this would imply a willingness to be with the Lithuanian people in ,their present experience of confusion and scarce resources; it would mean willingness to hold back from efforts to "answer" and "fix." In the end the Lithuanian people need to be the rebuilders of their own nation and church. It is a tricky thing to "accompany" a people without trying to control what they do. Another thread from my professional 358 Review for Religious past helped me in my own struggle to find a balance. While work-ing with an organization called Community Creativity before tak-ing up my ministry of community leadership, I learned how to elicit people's stories about their reality and to "mirror" these experiences to them in helpful ways. I learned that, if people can draw upon their own experiences as their base for learning and growth, they are more likely to see the rebuilding as their own. Over the course of the two three-month periods that I spent in Lithuania during my sabbatical year, I was able to use this "mir-roring" process with three different groups of people within the Lithuanian church: the staff of the Catholic Television Center, the catechists, and the women religious. After interviewing each member of the television center, I had a better sense of its short but significant corporate story. Like almost everything else in eastern Europe, church communica-tions had to jump from 0 to 10 in a very short time after the col-lapse of the Berlin wall. Church officials who had been forcibly silenced for five decades suddenly found themselves expected to speak--on national television--words.of meaning and hope to people who~ "like sheep without a shepher.d," desperately needed guidance as the structures.of their lives crumbled around them. It was a shock both for these church leaders and for the peo-ple to have to jump so suddenly from centrally controlled pro-paganda- oriented media to more democratic and truth-oriented forms. No one knew how to give or receive an opinion, and han-dling any diversity of thought posed real dilemmas. One of the first things that I was able to reflect to the staff of the Catholic Television Center was that, although people had technical skills, no one seemed to have a sense of what the mission of the center was. In the discussion that followed this observation, I learned that the whole concept of a mission statement was new to people whose entire lives had been bent toward purposes defined for them by the government. After much dialogue (which was another new experience in itself), we eventually were able to articulate a mission statement. The Catholic Television Center saw its mission as giving a voice to the once silent Lithuanian church and educating the Lithuanian people about the world church. These purposes, while clear, were fraught with ambivalence. The Lithuanian church survived under-ground only by the exercise of strong central authority that oper-ated largely in secret. There were no group discussions; there May-d~une 1995 359 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania was no consensus building. Information was passed from one per-son to another singly. Control over information was essential to survival. Given this history, It can be quite threatening to provide the .Lithuanian church with a voice Consonant with the Vatican II understandifig of the church as the people of God. The Lithuanian church grapples with questions of how much diversity of thought and'opinion should be expressed in the media and how much should be kept "secret" or even suppressed. There is also ambiva-lence regarding the life of the church in other parts of the world. On the one hand, there is a great eageyness to see how Catholics in other parts of the world live and worship. On the other hand, there is a certain suspicion of theologies, spiritaialities, and rituals coming from other parts of the world and a conse-quenttemptation to control what Lithuanian Catholics are allowed to learn about. With radio, television, fax, and e-mail increasingly available in Lithuania, the democratization 6f infor-mation that is a part of mass communications poses dilemmas for a church only emergin/~ from the underground after years of iso-lation from news about developments in the life of the church. The catechists I visited in each bf the six dioceses .of Lithuania echoed these challenges and voiced their own as they, too, jumped from 0 to 10. When Lithuania became independent, church lead-ers faced a choice: either to begin religious insti'uctlon immedi-ately with ill-prepared teachers without any materials to work with or to do adequate preparation first but thereby risk losing the present instructional opportunity altogether in the quite possi-ble event of reannexation by Russia. They chose the first option. When I visited the catechetical centers in each diocese, cat-echists spoke of the great difficulties they were encountering as they relied on their memories of decades-old religious instruc-tion and tried to pass these fragments on to a new generation of youth with no current materials to help or guide them. Eventually the six dioceses succeeded in collaborating to produce a common catechetical curriculum and in translating some materials from Italy and Austria into the Lithuanian language. The catechetical centers were also. interested in working with the Catholic Television Center to produce s'0me good in'service materials for the catechists and some interesting lessons for the students. When I had completed my visitation of the six dioceses, I wrote a report mirroring the great gifts and the serious challenges 360 Review for Religious I had observed; I distributed it to the directors of the catecheti-cal centers. They were astounded at my report for reasons that amazed me. '"You told the truth," they said. They were not accus-tomed to that. In other professional settings during the occupa-tion, they were accustomed to "inspectors" who came with the primary purpose of criticizing what-ever they saw and who wrote reports that had no correspondence with the reality of their visits. Because of such experiences, the catechists told me, they had awaited my visits with a mix-ture of dread and anxiety. They were flabbergasted to read a report that not only reflected what they had said, but aqtually offered observations and reflections that they found helpful. This was a totally new experience for them. For my part I was astonished to learn how much they had accom-plished, fueled only by zeal, °with scant resources and very meager pay. They had even experienced outright deri. sion from atheistic teachers and stu~- dents. For me, these courageous and selfles~ catechists enfleshed the stories Like many of the other prisoners, this sister fashioned for herself a tiny rosary of hard crumbs of black bread strhng together by a needle and thread. Hid under the lining of her coat, it was never discovered. from the Acts of the Apostles describing the church's early efforts to spread the Good News in the face of extraordinary limitations and challenges from within and without. This difference in experience was one of the many times that I imaged myself as being on the other side'of a chasm from the Lithuanian people. Ways of being that I took for granted were totally out of their lived experience; their faith and courage in the face of adversity were often beyond my ability to compre-hend: For example, the director of ofle of the catechetical centers told me that her entire family was taken away from her and sent to Siberia when she was a small child. Spared this fate because of her age, she was put into the care of some women who provi-dentially were underground nuns. It was through their example that she grew in the faith that sustained her through the loss of her family and ultimately led her to leave her post as a university pro- May-June 1995 361 Valuckas ¯ Lithuania fessor and accept the bishop's invitation to direct a catechetical center, The women religious were the third group of people I was privileged to accompany and mirror. The major superiors had been made aware of the interest which the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) and other organizations had in their welfare, and they were eager to talk about their needs. They, too, had their stories to tell. One of these major superiors' told me that almost all of her early religious life was spent in prison. The prisoners were body-searched every day for any signs or symbols of religion. Like many of the other prisoners, this sister fashioned for herself a tiny rosary of.hard crumbs of black bread strung together by a needle and thread. Hid under the lining o.f her coat, it was never discovered. She still has that rosary; When she showed it to me, she said that her prison .experience was one of the most powerful God-experiences of her life. This sister and the other major superiors echoed what many others had said about needing to tell their stories and to experience healing of their memories. The sisters asked for resource people to come from America and other countries to help them psychologically, theologically, and spiritually. They were eager to learn about developments in theology, prayer, and spirituality in the last several decades of their "interrupted lives." They also expressed a strong desire to grow in leadership skills and in the skills related to the develop-ment of community life and ministry. In spring 1994, Sisters Carolyn Mruz OSF and Joan Klaas CPPS, both former general superiors, ioined me in Lithuania for the express purpose of providing input in some of the requested areas. Toward the end of their six,week stay, the sisters asked us to give them a day of recollection. When we inquired as to the usual length of such dhys, they replied, "We don't know: we've never had one before." Another chasm. In their final evaluation the sisters told us that.one of th~ best things about their gatherings with us, in addition to the input, was the opportunity they had to meet one ~another across com-munities. For most, this was their first experience of an inter-congregational gathering. During the years of occupation, when it was not possible to assemble, the sisters were not always sure who were members of their own congregations, much less mem'- bers of other congregations. When they did meet each other for the first time in spring 1994, it gave them great joy to discover 362 Review for Religious that they had so much in common. They learned that sometimes they were their own best listeners to each other's stories. And I, after ending each three-month period in Lithuania, came away feeling not only like Ruth with Naomi, but also like Mary staying with Elizabeth "about three months." Somewhere in those encounters and in spite of the chasms between cultures, languages, and experiences, there was a leaping together toward the life that is lived at the Center of Being, whether of the nation as a whole or of each person. Finally, I return to Nehemiah, who heard God's call to help in the rebuilding of the temple: "Then I said to them, 'You see the trouble we are in: Jerusalem is in ruins, its gates have been burnt down. Come, let us rebuild the walls of Jerusalem and suffer this indignity no longer.' And I told them how the kindly favor of God had been with me, and also repeated the words the king had said to me. 'Let us start!' they exclaimed, 'Let us build',; and with willing hands they set about the good work" (Ne 2:17-18). Vignette The windows of the soul are clouded by hunger, and deeper wounds shrouded from our sight lie buried in the dark night. Foul birds of greed peck at the seeds of war And drop them to be sown in blood from Rwanda to Zaire. Martha Wickham ASC May-.~une 1995 363 ELIZABETH V. ROACH Community Today-- Idol? Icon? Gift? "I could do ministry without becoming a religious, but I want community," the new candidate says. Studies tell us that young people entering religious congregations today are looking for community. Formation directors work hard to provide healthy community experiences for them. Later, superiors general try to assign them to "good" commu-nities. Not only candidates but also men and women in religious life many years are approaching personnel direc-tors seeking "life-giving" communities. All this leaves lit-tle doubt that community has high importance for religious. If one thing is going well with us, it is the pri-ority we are giving to community. To question this trend might seem, if not audacious, perhaps impertinent. I believe, however, that a need exists for a closer look at the almost icon or idol status that com-munity enjoys today. My questions lie in the following areas: (1) In what "soil" did the present status of commu-nity grow? (2) Is it suffering from soil contaminants? (3) What are the gospel parameters for community? If you think I am about to come up with the answers, stop reading now. Then again, if you would like to delve into these questions, accompany me in my meditative mean-dering as I reflect on some questions that pebble the path. Elizabeth V. Roach MM works with three other Maryknoll sis-ters in a settlement area (40,000 people, no priest) on the edge of Panama City. Her address is Maryknoll Sisters; Aptdo. 813- 0343; Tocumen, Republic of Panama. 364 Review for Religious The "Ecological" History of Community Today Polluted streams mar our world. We breathe contaminated air. We read food labels to see what preservatives we are exposing ourselves to. We wonder what is in the water we drink. Why not investigate the "ecological" history of community? Where did community's current popularity grow and develop? Is there need for soil examination? Do we need to protect an endangered speci.es of community? I wonder if some of our present practice has developed, not from gospel roots, but from our environment of consumerism? Whether it is legislation bought by lobbyists, military secrets sold for profit, commerce with the fruit of a woman's womb, or designer drugs, we are a nation of consumers. Listen to us, the words we use. We speak of "mental-health consumers," "spin doctors," and "image" pro-ducers. This is the environment we live in. The nightly television news-cast would convince any visiting Martian that in our society just about anything can be bought. What has that got to do with our present practice of community? Maybe nothing, but similar remarks used to be made when ecologists questioned the purity of our lakes and streams. They were called alarmists. They were said to be exaggerating the dangers of industrial waste. As we seek commu-nity, it might not be amiss to ask how much the consumer envi-ronment we live in is affecting our practice and our working model of community. Maybe we need a quick inventory of our recent past. Even a brief glance at the 1960s shows that many people lived in a rigidly structured world. (When the protests for civil rights and against the Vietnam War began, many could not listen to what was being said. They saw rowdy, carelessly dressed, long-haired people as simply out of line.) Marriage was the order of the day. A "significant other" was something new. Rights of homo-sexuals and lesbian relationships were not acceptable conversa- As we seek community, it might not be amiss to ask how much the consumer environment we live in is affecting our practice and our working model of community. May-3~une 1995 365 Roach ¯ Community Today tion topics. Women who had babies outside of marriage were "unwed" mothers. There were jobs for men and jobs for women. Women were housekeepers, wives, and, yes, diaper washers. Police and soldiers were men. People who bought things were customers not consumers. One had property rights, but consumer rights, sexual-preference rights, and victim rights were unheard of. Abortion was illegal. Body parts, sperm, and wombs were not yet on the market. Spirituality and retreats had to do with religious practice, not feminist circles or marketing seminars. Between the '60s and the '90s came the "me" decade. We are no longer in the '60s. Social consciousness in the '60s meant advo-cacy for the poor, the disadvantaged, the needy. Now, according to Congressman Gingrich, social responsibility means legislation to relieve the taxpayer of politically burdensome aspects of soci-ety. We who live on the edge between modernity and post-modernity may be too caught up in contemporary tensions to examine the ingredients of our community cake mix, but uncon-scious consumption of contaminating elements may cause unex-pected illness. Our search for community is taking place in a world where repression of sexual and other urges is no longer the problem. We have entered a deconstructed world where issues of individ-ual rights versus community rights provoke new conflicts. "Gingrich thinking" is but one example of.this reality. Notice the differing opinions about the trials of the Mel6ndez brothers, Susan Smith, and O.J. Simpson. At the same time, violence, crime, child abuse, elderly abuse, and the "maybe we need to open more orphanages" mentality prevails. "Protection" is the buzz word of the 1990s, whether it refers to protected sex, more police in the streets, or a balanced-budget amendment. In the case of the United States, is it creeping into policies and procedures aboutwhom we will integrate or isolate according to how they fit or do not fit our concept of community? This is the environment we live in. Our concept of commu-nity may be, if not corrupted, at least affected by it. In more than one ~workshop, I have heard presenters say that, when we are changing ministry or community, we should take time to imagine ourselves in the situation and then ask ourselves, "Does it feel good?" That is the same question I ask when I try on a new pair of shoes. Given the psychological healthiness of reflecting on how a 366 Review for Religious change of ministry or community will affect us, what criteria shall we use? Is community just another consumer item? Is it like buy-ing a winter coat, a new car? What are the gospel parameters for community? Have you said or heard any of your friends say, "I have a min-istry, now I'm looking for a community"? Is community just another item on our shopping list, something to be acquired? How gospel-oriented is our practice? New Testament Parameters for Community Another glimpse of what we are about in our practice of com-munity might be gotten by filling out the application form that personnel directors ask religious to complete when they seek a change of ministry or community. Some congregations require these applicants to provide an evaluation from the community where they have been living. Applicants are also expected to state their expectations of the receiving community. The new com-munity's scrutiny leads to acceptance or rejection of the appli-cant. Try filling out one of those forms for Jesus as he hung on the cross (or for one of the apostles, or for Paul). What kind of com-munity evaluation could we submit for Jesus? He was complet-ing a contract and about to move into a new ministry situation. How would the evaluation of his recent community experience read? Would it say he took initiatives not supported by his local community? How would it describe his being abandoned by his colleagues? How would you rate him: (1) on following the con-sensus? (2) on his ability to (a) dialogue with Peter, his confrere? and (b) with local church authorities? (3) on his initiative (a) in going up to Jerusalem? and (b) in going to the garden that Thursday night? (What would you say if you had to write a community eval-uation of Peter, the one who failed so miserably in a community crisis?) Would you have approved of Jesus' "cross" initiative? Would you have questioned his discernment process? Would you have suggested further discernment and perhaps made him miss his hour? (Remember that John and Peter, his close friends, seemed a bit confused about his plans and even about what he was saying at the Last Supper.) May-J~ne 1995 367 Roach ¯ Community Today Palm Sunday Communities or Easter Communities Still another way to reflect on community would be to ask ourselves if we are confusing the group of disciples, those who hung out with Jesus before Good Friday, with the communities that flowered after the resurrection and Pentecost. The crowd that walked with Jesus before that Friday, the Palm Sunday community (apostles and disciples included), seems to have had many characteristics that are considered important for today's communities. Notice that Peter, James, and John were friends. Philip invited his friend Nathaniel to join the group. Does that ring a familiar bell? Is that a way of being integrated into our communities today? Do friends invite friends? In the episode about sitting at Jesus' right and left hand (Mk 10:35-45), similarities with current practice are even more evi-dent. That group looks like they are having a "community day." The apostles and disciples who would soon be walking with Jesus on Palm Sunday had together sailed the Sea of Galilee, hiked to Jerusalem, prayed, and shared ministry experiences. Was that an emergency house meeting they called to confront James and John on their inappropriate power seeking and failure to dialogue before lobbying for the first places? This, after the many excellent workshops they had attended!--workshops on ministry, mission, spirituality, interpersonal relations, theology, and Scripture, and all conducted by the best of presenters. So what happened? Why did that group .of apostles run for it when Jesus stretched out his arms on the cross? All their systems failed. Neither the community days nor the hiking, the theolog-ical reflection, the personal and community prayer, the work-shops, or even the friendship they had with Jesus held them together on that Friday--except for John and Mary and a few other women. That scene, I think, offers an essential .clue to the mystery of what Christian community is. While numbers of people had walked and talked with Jesus, they had not become a community. They may have been a support group: they did meet regularly. They may have been a club: mem-bership was limited and had its requisites. They may have been an interest group or a cooperative, for they participated in the same mission. But they were not yet a community. This they demon-strated on Thursday night when they scattered upon discovering that the big C Jesus was talking about was not community but the cross. 368 Revie~ for Religious Only Mary, John, and the women had discovered that the acid test of Christian community is the permanent, nonnegotiable fol-lowing of Jesus to his death. The hard realities that Jesus himself faced on Thursday and Friday, the aloneness, the abandonment, the dying, are essential elements that must be accepted, lived, and embraced if we are ever to become Easter and Pentecost com-munities. It is not just the warm, fuzzy feeling of moments when we are all together, the consensus evident, celebrating with song and symbol. It is also those dark, fearful, lonely moments of truth-telling in our communities, the utter .aloneness of difficult deci-sion making, the moments described in 2 Timothy 4:9-22, when Paul says "all" deserted him; "no one appeared on my behalf, but the Lord stood by me." It is also those other terrible moments when we~ like Mary and John, stand by our sisters and brothers totally incapable of under-standing .the why of a situation. Both reflection and personal expe-rience lead me to believe that, with-out following Jesus on the way of the cross, we may become interest groups, assemblies of friends, or financially cost-effective entities, but we have not the shadow of a chance of becoming Easter and Pentecost communities. Just look at the Easter community, that community huddled together in fear, in terror for their lives, humiliated by their sinfulness. Has any recent applicant to your community or mine said they want to join us because they are fearful or ~inful? And, if they did, would we accept them or recommend therapy? Yet it is the Easter community, terrified, humiliated, utterly scandalized by the cross, who discovered Jesus in their midst, their sins forgiveh, and their hearts overwhelmed with the joy of his peace. They knew why they were joyful. They could say Jesus is risen and truly here because they knew this;was the same Jesus who died on the cross. Peter's cheeks, the legend tells us, were fur-rowed by tears. Mary had held Jesus' bloodless corpse in her arms. John had stood by the cross. Has any recent applicant to your community or mine said they want to join us because they are fearful or sinful? And, if they did, would we accept them or recommend therapy? May-j~une 199Y 369 Roach ¯ Community Today That Easter community did not come to their consensus by applying the correct interpersonal dynamics for good communi-cation. They did not learn to hang together through attendance at workshops or by hiring a facilitator. While all these may help and no doubt do, there is no way they will ever substitute for the big C on which Jesus built the Easter and Pentecost community or the later communities of Acts. In Acts the community is a motley crowd. They invite all sorts to join them, magiciansand soldiers, preachers and widows. Their criteria did not come from enneagram numbers and Myers- Briggs profiles. (Had these been available, they might have helped resolve interpersonal conflicts--and these communities did include great differences of personality and lifestyle.) The important thing for them was willingness to lay down their lives because of their belief in Jesus' Way. The joy of those communities came not from something available in Greek or Roman markets, but the gift of Jesus' Spirit filling them with overwhelming peace and joy. That peace was pure gift. It happened when they followed Jesus' Way, the paschal way of death and resurrection. In apostolic and early Christian times, Christian community grew'and developed when followers of Jesus came together fear-ful for their lives, humbly repentant of sinfulness, bearing one another's burdens, and willing to die as witnesses to Jesus' living presence. They believed that Jesus, who died for our sins, had risen from the dead and was~truly here. They celebrated this in their gatherings. Only through this paschal living will our com-munities, too, become centers of peace, joy, and good news for all the world. 370 Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY Called to Community ~ ~[ . ommunity~:P is an intrinsic element of the call to disci- ~ pleship." A statement such as this normally elicits little disagreement and little, if any, controversy. Whatever our par-ticular calling in life (religious, priestly, or lay), most of us rec-ognize the importance of some Eind of community to accompany us on our journey of faith. Simple agreement, however, does not always evoke profound understanding; it may even keep us from taking a deeper look at the meaning of our closest assumptions. How many of us, for example, actually understand our call to "community" as something at the Very center of our response to God? How many of us think of life in community as something intrinsic to our relationship to God, as something that actually leads us more deeply into the mystery of who God is? And how many of us actually advert to these ideas in the day-to-day cir-cumstances of our lives? Reflection on the nature of our call to community can enhance our vision of what our communal disci-pleship means and how it is to be lived out in daily practice. Vision and Call Everyone needs a vision in life. Call it a dream or a purpose; call it a goal or a sense of direction; call it a founding myth or a narrative of origins--whatever you call it, we all need something in our lives to help us make sense out of our experience and share it with others. One purpose of Christian community is to keep such a vision before our eyes and thereby encourage us to take Dennis J. Billy CSSR, author of fifteen articles for this journal over the course of ten years, writes ag.ain from Rome. His address is Accademia Mfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome, Italy. May-June 199Y 371 Billy * Called toCommunity steps to live it in our everyday lives. It reminds us of the larger context of our lives and keeps us in touch with the traditions that have shaped us and to a large degree have made us who we are. It challenges us to confront the dark side of our human experience and to remain steadfast in our response to God's call in our lives. Communities come in different sizes and shapes. They do so because they respond to different needs within the church and reflect the vast variety of God's creation. Families and base com-munities, parishes and religious congregations, secular institutes and third-order sodalities all exist for a purpose and flourish when they respond well to the needs they seek to fill. Community is not something peripheral to God's call, as if its purpose were only to provide an atmosphere conducive to private personal spiritual growth or to respond to a need in our anthropological makeup. Christian community can and does provide for such things. It is meant, however, to be and to do much more. Life in community is intrinsically related to our journey into the mystery of God and is part and parcel of our Christian vocation. Community life loses its sense of purpose and conviction when it is taken out of the context of a call. Because the Christian vocation leads people into the Divine Mystery, it is inherently communal. Christian community and Christian vocation enjoy a close, reciprocal rela-tionship. It is impossible to have one without the other. By the term "vocation" I refer not to the more qualified sense of the term as a specific state of life in the church (that is, reli-gious, priestly, or lay), but to the call to intimate friendship that God extends to everyone, believer and nonbeliever alike. This call to beatitude (or to the "beatific vision," as previous genera-tions of theologians have phrased it) extends to all people, regard-less of their faith, nationality, race, or position in life. It involves the capacity all of us have to be lifted up through the influence of grace and to see God face-to-face. This mystical vocation which all of us share is sustained through life in community. Because God's nature is inherently communal, our call to divine friendship is worked out and perfected through a life lived with and ori-ented towards others. The Trinitarian Community The Christian tradition acclaims God as the perfect commu-nity of love. God--who has conceived of us, who has created us, 372 Review for Religious and who holds us in being--relates to us in a manner that images his nature. God, who is love, relates to us in love and cannot do otherwise. This is not the place to expound the vast intricacies of the doctrine of the Trinity. Suffice it to say that, however we describe this mystery of intimate social relations (whether through the traditional formulation of Father/Son/Spirit or through recent formulations such as Creator/Redeemer/Sanctifier or Ground/ Other/Bond), the mutual indwelling of persons must somehow be presented within the very nature of the Godhead. Although the mys-tery of God is inexhaustible and no single formulation can fully convey its meaning and depth, revelation teaches us that God is communal by nature, a single being of three clearly differentiated relations. When God is viewed in this man-ner, union with God becomes for us a never-ending journey into the intimate community of divine rela-tionships. All of this may sound rather abstract and unrelated to the daily concerns of life in Christian com-munity. To be sure, lofty ideas about the Trinity may'seem to have little practical value when it comes to the nitty-gritty tensions and concerns of communal living. We should not forget, how-ever, that the Trinity rests at the summit of the hierarchy of truths and, in fact, is the ultimate reality from which all else flows. The Trinity is the quintessential fact. It is not simply a metaphor, or a purely human construct, or a projectiqn of our deepest hopes onto a divine plane. It is an element of God's self-disclosure to humanity which, in its doctrinal formulation, has the status of a divinely revealed truth. The intimate community who is God and whom we call the Trinity is the beginning and end, the alpha and omega, of all things. It is the goal toward which we tend, the force that directs our lifelong activity on this planet, the reality that draws us to our final destiny. Life in Christian community is the primary way in which God prepares us to participate in the mystery of triune love. If it is true, as St. Augustine and many of the medievals thought, that Because God's nature is inherently communal, our call to divine friendship is worked out and perfected through a life lived with and oriented towards others. May-y-une 199Y 373 Billy ¯ Called to Community God has left traces or vestiges of the divine nature imprinted in the very fabric of creation, then one may point to life in Christian community as an important instance where a person can discover a reflection of God's hidden presence in the world. It would be presumptuous to expect that any of us would be ready or even capable of sharing in the intimate relations of the divine nature without a long period of preparation, Most of us will need to be led, step-by-step, along the long and narrow way of the Lord. Christian community, one might say, is the fiery forge in which God tempers our personalities and gets them ready to share more deeply in the fullness of the divine community. It stretches our character and challenges us to live lives that increasingly take others into account. To use an example from the Catholic mysti-cal tradition, it purges us of our imperfections, illumines us along our journey through life, and eventually brings us to a state of union with God. Life in community helps us to discover and become our truest, deepest selves; it naturally overflows in our relationship with others; and it shows us precisely what it means to be friends of God. Whenever we participate in community, we are really experiencing a vestige of God's triune love. The deeper we enter into it, the more we prepare ourselves for our relation-ship with God both now and in the life to come. Such is the role of Christian community, otherwise known as koinonia, that fel-lowship of God's friends we call "church." Given to us by Jesus himself and forever walking in his way, this circle of close disci-ples perpetuates itself by forging genuine human relationships wherever it goes. The Way of Jesus If the Trinitarian basis of Christian community is still too abstract a notion to give us practical guidance in day-to-day liv-ing, a more concrete example comes from the life of Jesus himself. A careful reading of the Gospels shows that he was always calling people to fellowship, especially those who were outcasts from the respectable social enclaves of his day. Prostitutes and tax collec-tors, the poor and the possessed, the blind and the lame were all welcomed by him and invited to partake in the friendship he shares with the Father. His gathering of disciples, his preaching through parables, his emphasis 6n table fellowship, his institu-tion of the Eucharist in the context of a meal, all reveal his deep 374 Review for Religious concern to provide others with a sense of God's gratuitous love and care for them. Jesus reached out to others simply because they were children of the Father and in need of God's friendship. He needed no other reason to call us his friends (Jn 15:15). Jesus' call to fellowship continues to this day. Now, as then, it is the perfect expression of the Son's intimate love of the Father. His fourfold movement of (i) entering our world (in the incar-nation), (2) giving himself away completely (to the point of dying for us), (3) becoming our very food and nourishment (in the Eucharist), and (4) being the source of our hope (in the res-urrection) is a concrete expression of the same selfless giving that characterizes the divine Trinitarian relations. Jesus' love for humanity reveals to us an even deeper love which he shares with his Father. This intimate relationship enables him to listen to the Father's concerns as a loyal and faithful Son. His humble response mani-fests the self-diffusive nature of God's love and discloses the underlying reason for the entire Christ event. Jesus' life provides us with an ideal vision of what life in community should emulate. Just as Christ entered our world and gave himself away completely, to the A careful reading of the Gospels shows that Jesus was always calling people to fellowship, especially those who were outcasts from the respectable social enclaves of his day. point of becoming nourishment and a source of hope for us, so we are called, both individually and in community, to enter the var-ious worlds of people around us and to give ourselves to them in a manner corresponding to Christ's sacrificial offering of him-self, to the point that we too become nourishment for them and a source of life-giving hope. This calling reveals to us the funda-mental meaning of our Christian identity. It' is accomplished not by ourselves alone, but by our cooperating with Christ working in us and influencing us by the grace of his Spirit. As might be expected, it is in the Eucharist that this process of divinization takes on its most concrete and visible form. There we gather as "church" around the table of the Lord and pray to the Father through the Son and in the Spirit. There we celebrate the fel-lowship of God's friends by reenacting Jesus' last meal on earth in its mystical identity with his sacrificial death the following day. May-3~ne 1995 375 Billy ¯ Called to Community There we welcome the presence of the risen Lord not only in our hearts and in our midst, but even in what we eat and drink. There we~celebrate the gift of "God among us" and recognize in the breaking of the bread that the Lord's vocation, like our own, is concerned with our becoming other Christs. Practical Realities These Trinitarian and Christological bases for life in com-munity do not of themselves remove the obstacles that often get in the way of our growth in the Spirit. The vision of what we can become and of what we are called to live is blocked time and time again by the fickle and obtuse human heart. As members of Christ's body, we recognize our divine calling to share in God's love and to carry on Christ's mission through time. We also rec-ognize, however, that human limitations and purely self-centered concerns often prevent us from living up to our noble aspirations. Sin in its various analogues--original, social, personal--distracts us from our mission and leads us into unholy compromises that sunder our vision and detach the remains of it from the practical realities of daily life. What follows are ten of the common diffi-culties communities face in their attempt to live out the implica-tions of their call. 1. Lack of Vision. Call it a lack of faith, a refusal to delve beneath the surface of things, an inability to see the close con-nection between the lives we live and the beliefs we espouse-- whatever you call it, a Christian community can easily get out of touch with its charism or very reason for existence. Vision. is a matter of both head and heart; minimal intellectual assent to the values and goals that originally called the community into exis-tence is not enough. Vision must seize the imagination of the members and generate in them a heartfelt desire to realize the community's objectives in their present situation. For this rea-son, a Christian community always needs inspired dreamers to keep the community's, founding vision in the forefront of its con-sciousness and prudent leaders to interpret this vision amid the practical exigencies of daily life. If the vision is not somehow kept bright and clear, the community loses its focus, dissipates its ener-gies, and eventually goes out of existence. 2. Dyoqtnctional Structures. Every community needs structures for its own good and the good of its members. Structures give 376 Review for Religious the community stability and enable it to function for a long time. Structures, however, can be a curse. If the community is not care-ful, its structures can in time lose their relevance and then inhibit the ways in which its members relate. The structures become dys-functional and deprive the community of the tranquillity it needs to live and do its work. Every community, therefore, needs to examine its structures periodically and change those that now are superflu-ous or needlessly obstruct the mem-bers' lives. Siflce there is only one perfect community (the Holy Trinity itself), communities should not be surprised to find some dysfunctional relating in their internal organization. The goal here should be to remove or minimize structures that are irrele-vant or cause some har

Issue 52.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1993. ; re lig oIJS C~stian Heritages and: Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1993 . VOLUME 52' ¯ NUMBER 2 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone:314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ~.Vashington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $ l 5 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. 01993 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Corm PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH-APRIL 1993 " VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 2 contents 166 feature Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Mary Linscott SNDdeN clarifies the interrelati6nship of leader-ship, authority, and religious government in the development of religious life up to the present. 194 202 213 220 226 evangelizing The Meaning of Evangelization Today Janice McLaughlin MM suggests that in the light of her experi-ence in Africa evangelization involves us in a process of change and choices which turn us upside down. Broken African Pots and a Mission Spirituality Mario I. Aguilar SVD proposes that African pottery making pro-vides a model that fits our need for spiritual fulfillment and the j3resence of God in our lives. aging in christ A Spirituality of Aging Michael D. Moga SJ invites the elderly to explore a spirituality well suited for their final years. Soul Making and Life's Second Half Anne Brennan CSJ and Janice Brewi CSJ encourage people in mid-life and beyond to open themselves to the fullness of their inner lives. Life Review, Families, and Older Religious James J. Magee DSW offers a model of life review for older reli-gious to modify their own anxiety in the face of family issues and to help other family members also to work with the issues. 162 Review for Religious 236 238 241 living religiously Hope in Loneliness James Martin SJ searches the emptiness of loneliness and finds space for God and others. Thoughts from Death and Life Vera Gallagher RGS offers a personal reflection on dealing with a serious diagnosis of illness. May I Love You, Lord John Patrick Donnelly SJ provides the first English translation of a psalm-prayer composed by the fifteenth-century Dominican Girolamo Savonarola. 247 259 275 283 visioning religious life Galile£n Perspectives on Religious Life Anne Hennessy CSJ suggests that the sometimes blurred focus on the person and message of Jesus Christ can be helped by a Galilean perspective. Religious Life in Nigeria Today Mary Gerard Nwagwu gives a summary picture of the various forms and influences of consecrated life now common in Nigeria and their influence on society. I Have Kept Faith: Clare of Assisi Karen Karper PCPA highlights some incidents in Clare's spiritual growth and the approval of her religious rule of life. report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1992 Kenneth Davis OFM Cony reviews the various events and writings in the Catholic Hispanic experience. departments 164 Prisms 304 Canonical Counsel: Common Life 311 Book Reviews March-April 1993 163 prisms a~tican Council II is frequently described as a watershed event in the history of the Catholic Church. Certainly through our eyes now and even in its actual hap-pening the council was one of those precious creative moments which take place randomly, but consistently, in our human affairs. Just as consistently, creative moments are followed by a period of consolidation. A common example (perhaps too easily caricatured) from the history of religious life is the creative action of St. Francis of Assisi in calling forth his gospel-based mendicant group and the later consolidation efforts of Brother Elias to establish solidly this ideal in a lasting community form. Some would term the present period in the Roman Catholic milieu a period of consolidation. As evidence they would point to the promulgation of the Codes of Canon Law for both the Latin Church (replacing the first Code of 1917) and the Eastern Churches (the first for-mulation of a Code). The publication of the new Universal Catechism is another piece of evidence for a consolida-tion movement. With the 1994 Synod of Bishops sched-uled to consider consecrated life, there appears to be a completing of the review of all the groupings which make up the People of God. Consolidation periods lack the euphoria and excite-ment of the creative moments, but they are just as impor-tant if life is to keep its direction and to flourish. We may have a fear of consolidation movements because they seem to represent a rigidity and to forebode an age-long immutability. Others of us may too readily desire consol-idation as a way of returning to the way things were, of rejecting a certain period of time as an aberration. 164 Review for Religio~s Consolidation, after a period of creativity, is meant neither to set in stone the present reality nor to throw aside recent history and return to a fixated tradition. Consolidation is meant much more to be a plateau where gains and losses are assessed, directional lines reviewed and discerned anew, and energies replenished for the continued journey forward of this pilgrim people. Although we have frequently used the word transition to cap-ture these times for our church and for religious life, perhaps more pointedly we might now use the word consolidation. For example, the FORUS study published in our last issue provides religious life with a consolidation document. Religious groups would be using it without serious thought or reflection if they were to reject the legitimate and church-expected experiments of these past decades. Consolidation works only when there have been some creative moments preceding. Without creative moments, life--any life, religious or other--weakens and faces death. That continues to happen to lifeforms throughout our planet and, more pointedly, may be happening to some religious congregations at this time. On the other hand, without consoli-dation creative moments are only ephemeral and their energies dissipate to exhaustion. Consolidation is necessary for true growth and sure direction in continuing the movement so that we can focus our energies for the New Evangelization of our time. Consolidation remains just as necessary on the micro as on the macro stage, that is, in our everyday life as well as in the large-scale reflections which we have been making about religious con-gregations. Too often we can pass by the efforts necessary for a consolidation review in our own individual-lives and our living together. Why do we live the way we do, why do we do the works we do? How is this related to my and our love of Jesus Christ and what does it have to say about the evangelizing quality of my and our works? These simple questions are necessary as we look towards the solid future of religious life. David L. Fl.eming SJ Marcb-Atrril 1993 165 MARY LINSCOTT Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government feature More than twenty years ago, in 1969 and 1970, I attended two meetings in St. Louis which were a turning point in the history of the Conference of Major Superiors of Women in the United States. Various developments ensued, one of them being a change of name from Conference of Major Superiors of Women (CMSW) to Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR). In this case the rose by another name did not immediately smell as sweet. The then Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (SCRIS), which had to approve the change, was reluctant to do so on the ground that it involved more than a matter of simple terminol-ogy. The Language and the Reality For the congregation, "major superiors" and "leader-ship" were not synonymous terms; the use of the one for Sister Mary Linscott SNDdeN is a former superior general of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur and a former president of the International Union of Superiors General (UISG). She has worked in the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL). This article is the somewhat shortened text of a talk which she gave in April 1992 to English-speaking superiors and councilors general in Rome and which appeared originally in UISG Bulletin 89. 166 Review for Religious the other could create confusion and even lead to changes of a more ~ubstantial kind, notwithstanding the likelihood that the sisters intended the words to denote the same reality. (We have to bear in mind that the change of name for the conference in the Uiaited States coincided with the reaction against authority which followed the special chapters of renewal and with the beginning of considerable modifications in the structures of religious gov-ernmerit. Moreover, the national conferences [or councils or unions] mandated by Perfectae Caritatis §23 and Ecclesiae Sanctae §42 and §43 were to be of major superiors, both for men and for women.) At all events, SCRIS felt that the substitution of "lead-ership" for "major superiors" could raise problems in an area where clarity was needed. Pc mission for the change came only after long reflection and on condition that the interpretation of the name was in accord with the provisions and intention of the Second Vatican Council. After twenty years the use of the word leadership in documents other than constitutions and directories has become quite widespread. We are used to headlines in our congregational pub-lications: "Province X Elects New Leadership" or "A Report from General Leadership." In some institutes "leadership group" has replaced "team" to denote sisters serving according to the con-stitutions at different levels of government. The usage seems to be mainly in the English-speaking world. Unless the word leaders is ~dopted without translation, as it is occasionally by French- or Spanish-speaking sisters, the concept which it expresses is usu-ally paraphrased or simply implied. For historical reasons the Italians avoid duce and the Germans fiibrer. The French always have responsable to fall back on. In English writing, however, there is a rather frequent use of leader and leadership. Over the years, what has happened to SCRIS's initial diffi-culty about religious institutes' use of the word leadership? A first remark ~hould be, I think, that the distinction of meaning made after 1970 still obtains. Leadership is a charism, a spiritual real-ity given freely by God to individuals for some special purpose in a community; authority in religious institutes is a canonico-juridi-cal as well as a spiritual reality. The two, therefore, are not syn-onymous and not interchangeable. Second, there has been a period in which popular writing and parlance about religious life have tended to avoid the word authority. Instead the term leadership was used but given much of the content that belongs to author- March-April 1993 167 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government ity. This produced some confusion that weakened religious gov-ernment at all levels, but especially the local. In a third phase, more recently, we have had a certain clarification along this line: that, while leadership and religious authority are indeed different and distinct, they do not have to be in conflict, and in fact both are needed for good government. In this clarification some understandings have emerged which I will use for the purposes of this paper. With regard to leadership, wider and more immediate communications, the influence of the international institutes, and the cumulative effects of structural renewal have all helped to bring out the .concept of leadership as a personal gift in its own right. It is a charism expressed in per-sonal qualities which inspire respect, trust, following, sometimes enthusiasm. Since it depends on the qualities of a person, lead-ership is an enduring gift, not something assumed for a certain time and laid down at the end of a mandate. It is not conferred or limited by constitutions, and it cannot be legislated. It does not go with any given responsibility, and in itself it is no more account-able than any other charism. It derives, not from external cir-cumstances, but from inner sources, and it is linked much more with what a person is than with what she does. Leadership is found in many spheres other than government. It exists quite apart from authority. At the same time, the lengthening experience of renewal and the revision of the constitutions have pointed up the need for other elements besides leadership for the effective running of a religious congregation: functional government structures and clearly invested religious authority are essential. Religious author-ity, like that of the Lord from which it ultimately derives, involves a certain power, but it is power as service and for the sake of the mission. Such authority goes with the vow of obedience and is conferred for the achievement of the goals of the congregation: the spread of the gospel in and through the unity, growth, and service of the sisters. Necessary for the religious institute as a human organization, religious authority is also ecclesial in that it derives from constitutions approved by the church. Since it is attached to an office, it is an authority of status. It is given for a specified period to persons duly appointed or elected within the limits of the constitutions and church law. Religious authority has to be accountable. It is personal but not exercised in isola-tion. It can be legislated and must be provided for constitution- 168 Re~iew for Religious ally. It is assumed on a specified date and is laid down at the end of a mandate. It relates to what a person does and to what her responsibilities are, rather than to what she is in herself. Of itself it neither confers nor presupposes leadership, though leadership qualities are obviously desirable in a sister exercising authority. Government is a matter of duly chosen individuals inspiring, directing, and admin-istering with a.uthority the affairs of a con-gregation according to its spirit and sound traditions and according to church law and its own. Of itself government gives a lead, and in a religious congregation it is a con-crete expression of the charism acting to attain the congregation's purpose. I would say that these recent clarifications are helpful. Leadership, authority, and government are now seen as distinct from each other but closely .related in complementarity and all of them necessary for the healthy functioning of religious life. There are difficulties only when they are confused with each other, when one or other of them is not working properly, or when any of them tends to dominate the remaining two. I propose to look at the three elements in interrelation from two different angles. The first is historical. As phenomena in reli-gious life, leadership, authority, and government have come into being at different times in response to different needs, and in the course of history they have had different emphases. A look at their roots and evolution may help us to see better where we are at present with regard to them and may give us some ideas for future direction. The second angle is contemporary. Later in this article I will share with you what a surv4y of sixty approved con-stitutions seems to tell about leadership, authority, and govern-ment in congregations across the world today. The two angles will bring together the past and the present in view of the future. Where does religious government come from? The Phenomenon Where does religious government come from? Perfectae Caritatis §2a says: "Since the final norm of the religious life is the following of Christ as it is put before us fn the gospel, this must be taken by all institutes as the supreme rule" (see canon 662). It was the desire to follow Christ with greater liberty and to Marcb-/lpril 1993 169 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government imitate him more closely that prompted men and women from very early times to practice, in various ways, the evangelical coun-sels (see PC §1) and thus live the gospel radically. As the great persecutions of the early church came to an end, many persons gave gospel witness by withdrawing into the desert and under-taking heroic acts of self-denial and penance as a substitute for martyrdom. Their life was a combat with the forces of evil, whose last stronghold was the wilderness. The call was often solitary, but among those who sought God in the desert there were inevitably some who were experienced and some who were begin-ners, renowned persons and those who were unknown, persons sought out for advice and guidance and those who still had a lot to learn. Without any structure, when there was as yet no orga-nization that required formal authority and government, a kind of leadership based on competence, personal qualities, and experience in the ways of the Lord brought into being some very personal relations between teachers and disciples. The earliest elements of religious leadership may be here: persons together seeking God's will and ways, with the gifts of the one at the service of the other and both persons helped towards the fullness of a Christian vocation. The living of the gospel was still the supreme goal and rule when, in the face of the decline of the desert type of life and because of the changes brought about by the barbarian invasions of western Europe and northern Africa, people grouped together in a more stable manner. Once there was grouping, some kind of agreement, however simple and loose, was necessary for order and peace. In this is the first seed of religious government. Humanly speaking, there would be leaders for the sake of unity if for no other reason. Once grouping was a stable way of life, the leader would usually be the one who founded the group, who accepted followers to form the group, and who contributed most to shaping its way of gospel living by example, prayer, teaching, and organization. It would be up to that person to ensure fidelity to the accepted way of life, to lead in the deepening of spiritual values, to give direction, to ensure viability. Everything would be geared to the gospel as the purpose of the group's existence, )nd the founder would lead in virtue of an authority of competence recognized by the members and by the church. This stable way of life affected the church both locally and universally. The stability of vows, the public witness of life, 170 Review for Religious required contacts with church authorities, especially the local bishop. There had to be the possibility of representation. Moreover, basic though the gospel was, no founder ever felt it sufficient simply to put the gospel text into the hands of his or her religious. The way of living out the gospel in any given congre-gation was expressed in a rule or constitutions usually drawn up by the founder and always approved by the church. The fact of liv-ing vowed life together, therefore, created human, ecclesial, and theological conditions that required the service of some member or members to the others in a way that fostered spiritual values, unity, fidelity to the founding bond and spirit, discernment of direction, links with the church, correction, spiritual and material provision, viability. Such responsibilities could not be undertaken without some kind of authority within the group itself. We there-fore find the elements of religious government coming into being as founders, who by the fact of founding showed qualities of lead-ership, accepted the responsibility of directing their religious fam-ily and each of its members towards the agreed-upon goal of the gospel by a service of authority recognized by the church. This service of authority was still needed in succeeding gen-erations, and for the same reasons as those which first prompted it. Once the founding generation was gone, however, the choice of members who would exercise authority was less obvious. It was not that there were no religious who had the competence, but rather that none had the unique claim of the founder. Loyalty, support, and obedience were given to the member who was duly elected or appointed to exercise authority, and with that there came into being an authority that could be apart from that of competence: an ex officio authority derived from role or status. The Evolution before the 19th Century All this needed considerable time to evolve, and it took on different patterns and structures according to the different charisms which it expressed. Moreover, it developed as new forms of religious life came into being to meet the needs of successive times. The first appearance of religious in the form of monks and monasteries was a spontaneous phenomenon in the church, a free action of the Holy Spirit, but by the 5th century their random multiplication had become such a problem that the Council of March-April 1993 171 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Chalcedon (451) established the requirement of episcopal per-mission for the founding of a monastery and made monks subject to bishops. It was recognized, however, that the community of monasticism required a certain independence in internal matters. Religious government, therefore, came to have two aspects, inter-nal and external, both involving authority. Over a long period the image of episcopal authority, which of its nature is hierarchical in the church, to some extent colored that of religious authority. Certainly the balance between the degree of freedom necessary for internal affairs and the submission to the bishop, which was equally necessary for the good of the local church, was a feature of canonical legislation for religious for centuries. The great founders and reformers somehow found ways to handle both the internal and external relations of religious government. Internally, St. Benedict, father of western monasticism, respected the whole community and united it around the abbot under the discipline of the Rule. Authority, leadership, and government came together harmoniously in his provisions. Externally, in centuries after his own, there were problems over necessary relations with bishops and civil rulers. When Benedict's work was refounded in the Cluniac and Cistercian reforms, Cluny managed to be subject neither to king nor to bishop. It was one of the first of a system of exemptions by which the evolution of religious life was handled. After the desert and the monasteries, both of which types of religious life continue today, a third period with new needs was that of the mendicants. Here the pattern of life was no longer the stability and close unity of the monastery, but instead the diverging travels of friars who went about preaching the good news, begging their way, and giving to the poor. They belonged to a more fluid community often located in a town that had been revitalized either by a growing medieval university or by the com-merce that followed the Crusades. In pursuit of the same gospel ideal as the monks and the desert dwellers, the mendicants orga-nized their lives differently. They did not have stability in Benedict's sense. Their forms of leadership and government had to suit their kind of public witness and the flexibility of their out-reach. The religious whose authority and responsibility for the whole group would parallel those of Benedict's abbot were sig-nificantly given different and suggestive names: guardian for the Franciscans and prior for the Dominicans. With the age of discovery and reform, new forms of religious 172 Review for Religious life, those of the apostolic orders, were the response of the Holy Spirit to the mission opportunities in newly discovered conti-nents and to the theological and educational needs nearer home. Religious life in the Latin church, still very much a European phenomenon, needed people like Francis Xavier, Jean de Br~beuf, and Junipero Serra to carry it to India, Japan, and the Americas. This out-reach in itself was a challenge to structures of government. The pio-neer missionaries were often at great distances from their original commu-nities. They were inevitably few, at least at the beginning, yet they were an important growing point of the institutes to which they belonged. They needed good leadership quali-ties themselves and a considerable del-egation of authority. The kind of religious government that was strong primarily at the local level did not really match their gift. There had to The Jesuits in their government heightened both leadership and authority and gave a new importance to what would henceforth become general-level administration. be support from a higher level where the overview of everything could unify the various local endeavors and thereby achieve a par-ticular witness to Christ. Not by coincidence is the general supe-rior of the Jesuits called the praepositus. Exempt from immediate episcopal control so as to be free for papal mandates, the succes-sors of St. Ignatius had to combine leadership by competence, which was vital, with the authority to inspire and administer a far-flung apostolic enterprise while strengthening the service given in pastoral, social, and academic fields in Europe. The Jesuits in their government heightened both leadership and authority and gave a new importance to what would henceforth become general-level administration. The Evolution after 1800 With the cataclysm of the French Revolution came various needs which were met by the most recent type of organized reli-gious life: institutes dedicated to works of the apostolate. Although by no means all of these are for sisters, the period since the Marcb-April 1993 173 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government Napoleonic Concordat of 1802 has been marked by an extraor-dinarily high proportion of women's foundations. It is on these that I now focus. Very many institutes of sisters came into being as the response of the Spirit to the needs created by the industrial revolution, the successive waves of emigration from Europe to the new world, the opening up of Africa and Asia, and the series of revolutions which swept Europe from 1789 to 1848. They were founded not only to live the gospel themselves and to witness to it in a society that was mainly one of believers, as many previous religious had done, but also to be Christ the teacher or healer or shepherd or apostle of the Father, in ways specified by their founding gifts, in a society which was increasingly post-Christian and material-ist. Their vocation was apostolic, and the government they needed had to provide for apostolic mobility, with its requirement of cen-tralization as well for effectiveness at scattered locations as for unity and corporate direction throughout. They needed their own internal authority. As for leadership, it became clear as time went on that leadership gifts of many different kinds were required for the effective service of these institutes, particularly in areas of the apostolate which involved specialization. A new responsibility for sisters exercising authority was the fostering and harmonizing of these leadership gifts among the members for the unity of the whole and for better service in mission, even though in this case leadership was not related to government but to the apostolate. The governmental needs of the new institutes with regard to centralization and internal authority were not at first easily met. We have to remember that, during the century before 1901, sis-ters in institutes dedicated to apostolic works were technically not recognized by the church at all. It had been the ecumenical councils which determined and enunciated the church's provi-sions regarding religious life, and in the early 19th century the lat-est of these was still the Council of Trent. Trent had made a serious effort to tidy up a very complicated situation according to the signs of its own times. Three years after the close of the coun-cil, the decree Circa Pastoralis (1566) had stated the basic law of the church for religious, summarizing the canons of Lateran IV (1215), Lyons (1274), and Trent that referred to them. According to Circa Pa.storalis, religious were members of the church living a common life with solemn vows and cloister. All orders which were not exempt were subject to the local bishop. By 174 Review for Religious implication, therefore, members of groups which did not have solemn vows or which were not cloistered were not religious, and .they were subject to the local bishop without full internal reli-gious authority of their own because .they were not among the exempt orders. Institutes of sisters dedicated to apostolic work lived and served as religious, looked like religious, had the goals of religious, and gave the witness of religious while having sim-ple vows, little or no cloister, and a different way of living life in common from religious who were in accord with Circa Pastoralis. They needed an internal authority similar to that of the exempt congregations and for reasons like those of the apostolic orders. Actua.lly, the praxis of the church was ahead of its legislation in the 19th century, and both pontifical approval and the approval of several far-seeing bishops cleared the way for institutes of sisters. In 1900 Leo XIII, in Conditae a Christo, anticipated what was an evidently necessary change in church legislation~ He opened to religious groups with decrees of praise the formal right of cen-tralization under a superior general with real, personal authority throughout the institute. This recognized sisters in institutes ded-icated to works of the apostolate as re!igious in their own right: a third kind of entity with those conforming to Circa Pastorali's and with th~ exempt clerical orders. The recognition was' welcome, but it could not of itself erase the long experience of ambiguity, which was the only one that most institutes of sisters knew at first hand. Authority and gov-ernment were the issues on which the matter of recognition was solved, and both were associated with the image of the local bishop. Leo XIII followed up Conditae a Cbristo in 1901 with a set of norms which were a blueprint for the future Code of Canon Law (1917). The sisters updated their constitutions in the light of .,both documents; and, perhaps because in terms of religious life the autonomous government of institutes of sisters as a reality canon-ic~ lly recognized and supported was something relatively new, both a.uthority and government structures loomed large in the revisions. Great attention was given to new structures, especially those of provinces and general chapters; roles were spelled out in considerable detail. Time would bring out what this implied and how it would work out in practice. Of the three elements leader-ship, authority, and government, attention concentrated on the last two, which were concrete and could be legislated, even though the previous image many institutes had of them did not necessarily March-April 1993 175 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government reflect their founding charism, but was colored by the rightly hierarchical character of the authority of the local bishop. Leadership was either taken for granted or channeled into apos-tolic enterprises. These sociological traits be~zame even more marked as the pressures of works and of professionalism came to bear on institutes in the mid 1950s. The Situation after Vatican II Less than fifty years after the Code of 1917 came the mandate of the Second Vatican Council to renew religious life according to the criteria of the gospel, the founding charism, and the signs of the times and to revise constitutions and directories in accord with this renewal. To make sure that the renewal actuaily took place, every institute was to celebrate a special general chapter within a period of two or three years. The chapter had excep-tional authority for this one occasion and was to be prepared with the widest possible involvement of all members of the institute. In the case of sisters dedicated to works of the apostolate, the timing of the conciliar mandate was critical. It came at a histor-ically ripe moment. The educational movement of the 1950s, the communications explosion of the 1960s, the influence of the human sciences, the authority crisis, and the development of fem-inism were only some of the elements which affected the way in which sisters tried to reexamine totally a life which they had taken very much for granted. They worked under pressure of time, with no precedent, technically unprepared, but with very much good-will. Inevitably, the sisters went first for adaptations: concrete changes which could be seen to be done and where change was clearly necessary. These involved structures and processes, plan-ning, participation, the Vatican Council's principles of subsidiar-ity and coresponsibility, the insdtute's style of life, and a review of apostolic works and resources. As sisters came to grips with these things, new leaders of a charismatic or natural kind--"born lead-ers"-- began to emerge. Their competence might be a particular professional field or an ability to communicate or the capacity to articulate well a personal vision for the future of the institute or a good grasp of dynamics. Whatever their gift, these leaders often came to the fore at the expense of leadership based on authority and experience of government. The membership of general chap- 176 Review for Religious ters from 1967 onwards was of a different composition from those which went before, and the influences on government and author-ity were consequently different. There was less experience of gov-ernment and more creativity; less hard information and more "dreaming" in the positive sense; less his-tory and more sociology; less theology and more impact from the human sci-ences. It all needed to be balanced out if it was to produce good religious govern-ment. A time of struggle, confusion, and emotion, however, is not the best time for balancing, and the difficult 1970s and early 1980s did not allow time to evaluate objectively what was happening. Nor was it possible to have the distance necessary for objectivity. The individualism of the period produced leaders in plenty, but not a similar number of sisters willing to accept responsibility. At the same time, various forms and degrees of resistance to authority made religious government very difficult. Expectations were not clear, and it was far easier to raise questions than to find constructive responses. All the while, people were aware that the overall num-bers of sisters were declining, that departures were frequent, that needs were multiplying and not being met, and that religious life was a microcosm of a church and world which were also in flux and seeking their way. In all this how did leadership, authority, and government fare? They were much-discussed topics in renewal, and it is in the con-text of renewal that we have to see them. Renewal involves inter-nal change. It causes us to interiorize and make our own--here and now, as individuals and as communities--the teaching of Jesus as it is lived in accordance with the charism of our religious insti-tute. Renewal affects beliefs, relationships, values, commitment, attitudes, and zeal. It determines how we live and serve, and it involves a conversion that is corporate as well as personal. Being basically interior and spiritual, renewal cannot be brought about simply by legislation. It needs the example and personal influ-ence of leadership, which i~ of its nature an agent of internal change. But leadership in religious renewal has to be enabling, Being basically interior and spiritual, renewal needs the example and personal influence of leadership, which is of its nature an agent of internal change. Marcb-April 1993 177 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government helping sisters renew themselves and their institute by consis-tently proposing the gospel goal and ideal and by encouraging involvement, conviction, and commitment. Such enabling lead-ership is increasingly seen as necessary today. It is not in excess supply, for it requires an unusual blend of Christlike poverty of heart and inner freedom and at the same time strength, empa-thy, and clarity. It is ~ charism and, as such, cannot be conferred ex officio or be legislated as a predictable and controllable part of government. Yet without it even the most clear-cut exercise of legitimate authority does not succeed in changing fundamental attitudes and values, whatever it may do to outward forms. The very fact that leadership is neither predictable nor con-trollable from the point of view of legislation means that it needs a balance which can be predicted, controlled, and legislated. The balance is authority. In the years after the Second Vatican Council, the balance afforded by religious authority was significantly down-played, largely as reaction to the authoritarianism in the precon-ciliar years and also because of the trend towards greater participation. Pa~'ticipation, however, does not remove the need for authority, and authoritarianism is an abuse which can be reme-died without touching the principle o.f authority itself. If no chan-rlels of legitimate authority are provided, one of two things seems to happen: either (1) the group crumbles from within because there is no commonly acknowle.dged center, no one has respon-sibility at the corporate level, and each sister has to go her own way, interpreting her religious life to the best of her ability; or (2) some sister emerges as a leader without religious authority, either by fo.rce of con.viction or natural gifts or charism or plain per-sonal aggressiveness. In either case the important value of re!igious obedience gets lost. Yet it is through religious obedience that we understand religious authority, and it is the two of them together that create the unique relationship in which a properly autho-rized leader can enable sisters to grow, not in passivity and not in external adaptation only, but in an active collaboration which make~ for joy and greater fullness of life. Religious government, therefore, needs both leaders.hip and authority and needs them together. Authority wi'thout leadership can become an insecure and heavy-handed exercise of power. Leadership without authority can lack sound direction, responsi-bi! ity, and accountability," making for disturbance rather than for peaceful growth in the Lord. Structures of government somehow 178 Review for Religious have to harmonize the two. Authority is usually provided in struc-tures at general, provincial, and local levels that maintain personal authority balanced by councils, chapters, and assemblies according to particular traditions, and that indicate an unambiguous line of accountability. Leadership, which cannot be legislated so directly, is implied in statements about the charism, spirit, and vision of the institute, in the qualities required in sisters exercising author-ity, and in the details of responsibilities and job descriptions. Moreover, it has been characteristic of the structures of religious government that authority is not exercised in isolation, nor should it be exercised in a way that creates a gap between those exercis-ing authority and those accepting it. This last point is a matter of style rather than of structure and is as much a challenge for teams and groups, even when the respective responsibilities and rela-tions are well spelled out, as it is for individuals. The revision of constitutions has led to some solid rethinking in the whole area of leadership, authority, and government. As we have seen, the theme goes far back in the history of religious life, and the strands intertwine inextricably, like differently colored ply in a length of wool making a single thread. Sisters today are certainly clearer on the issues than they were at the turn of the 1970s. All the same, we are never free from the responsibility of asking ourselves: (I) Has the basic function of leadership, author-ity, and government in religious life changed? If it has, why? And to what? (2) Do our structures correspond to their purpose and function? Now I would like to share with you what some samples of recently revised and approved constitutions from different parts of the world have to say to us about leadership, authority, and government in religious life today. In the light of these concrete statements, I will afterwards pick up again the two questions I have just raised. Sampling Some Revised Constitutions During my period of service at the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), about 1500 revised constitutions received their decrees of approval, and there have been a few more since then. Among this overwhelming amount of material, my only option was to take a sampling. I decided on five criteria of choice. March-April 1993 179 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government 1. My first criterion was to restrict myself to constitutions presented in English. There are more than enough of these to give a range of thought and experience, and I have the advantage of knowing them well and of having worked with many of the sisters who produced them. 2. My second criterion was to cover the different spiritual traditions in religious families, since these affect concepts and structures of government. I took sisters' constitutions deriving from the inspiration of the classic founders Alphonsus, Augustine, Benedict, Dominic, Francis, Ignatius, and Paul of the Cross. I also took some from the women's congregations that have a com-mon source of spirituality: Ursulines, Sisters of St. Joseph, Sisters of the Presentation, Sisters of Mercy, Sisters of Charity, Sisters of the Incarnate Word. I sampled as a further category congrega-tions with a strong and clear individual charism that are not notably indebted either to one of the major religious families of men or to other groups of sisters. 3. My third criterion was to cover a wide range of cultures, since these are important in the expression of values and princi-ples. The English-speaking world is notoriously extensive, and also some institutes present their texts in English either because this is an acceptable second language or because their principal growing points are in English-speaking areas outside their coun-try of origin. I ended up with constitutions from Australia, Austria, Belgium, Canada, England, France, Holland, India, Ireland, Malta, New Zealand, the Philippines, Rome, South Africa, and the United States of America. 4. A fourth criterion was to include a few constitutions of men religious by way of comparison. 5. Lastly, I included a random sampling of the remaining texts to a total of sixty constitutions. Fifty-five are by sisters and five by men religious: two clerical institutes and three of brothers. My observations are based on these sixty texts. Initial Impressions As one would expect of approved constitutions, on the subject of leadership, authority, and government, all the texts are canon-ically accurate inasmuch as they all harmonize with the present law of the church and with the values, principles, and basic structures deriving from their own previously approved founding charisms. 180 Review for Religious Yet no two are alike, and when I speak of a certain degree of com-monality I am not referring to common material or even to depen-dence on a common Code, but to a certain convergence of values and thinking across texts worked out independently and expressed with a great deal of diversity. Convergence. The highest degree of convergence is in the impor.tance attached to authority in regard to both government and leadership. In almost every case, whether the actual words are used or not, there is the idea that authority is to be exercised in government by sisters with qualities of leadership. The three elements go together, and it is authority that links the other two. There is a high degree of convergence also on the source of reli-gious authority being ultimately God himself and on the spirit of service which marks its exercise. Jesus Christ, whether as shep-herd, servant, son, or savior, is the model for the kind of exer-cise of authority in leadership that should characterize religious government. This spiritual level is usually clear and well expressed with a direct application to unity and mission. Areas of Diversity. The convergences are not bland, because there is no uniformity in the concrete provisions that express the converging values and principles. Each institute has not only its own founding gift, but also its own living tradition and experience, its own "now," and its own vision of the future. So, for example, even institutes which have the Rule of St. Augustine or that of the Franciscan Third Order Regular or the Constitutions of St. Ignatius as part of their proper law will have their own ways of incorporating these in concrete enactments. A good deal can be inferred, therefore, from the way in which the principles of government are actually spelled out. There are nuances about authority, leadership, and government to be found in the job descriptions given for moderators at the different lev-els, in the qualities and priorities looked for in those who will be responsible for government, in provisions for a particular style of operation, or in the way that responsibility and accountability are handled. Relationships and structures are the other areas with rich implications. The way in which a text expresses the com-bined responsibility of the membership and the various sisters in authority for the well-being of the institute is also instructive. So are the relations and interaction of moderators and councils and of both with chapters. Something can be learned from the way that the material on March-April 1993 181 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government authority and government is organized and presented. Some con-stitutions begin with people, some with types of norm; some begin with the whole entity of the institute as the body expressing the corporate charism and recognized as such by the church, some with the rights and responsibilities of the individual sister. Most start at the general level, since this avoids having to repeat and anticipate, but some begin with the local level. Perhaps the most revealing thing is terminology. If we raised our eyebrows in 1983 over the Code's use of"moderator," it was only because we had not yet realized our own creativity in find-ing names for those who were once uniformly referred to as supe-riors and for the sisters who work immediately with them. All the constitutions I studied were approved between September 1982 and May 1991. In them I met superiors, abbesses, prioresses, directors, facilitators, coordinators, sisters-in-charge, guardians, custodians, mothers, moderators, ministers, and presidents. These are helped and advised by councils, cabinets, government groups, boards, teams, and assistants and are accountable to assemblies, senates, and chapters. When the substance of all these is actually spelled out in terms of purpose, function, authority, and account-ability, there may not be any great difference at present between one reality and another. I have a strong sense, however, of dif-ference in climate and general approach between sisters who are superiors with a council responsible to a general chapter and sis-ters who are presidents with a cabinet responsible to a senate. What is denoted is similar, but the connotations are different, and it remains to be seen where that will take us. Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government in the Texts First of all, let me say that the three concepts, though they are present in each of the sixty texts, are not always specifically named. Neither do they receive equal emphasis. Authority gets by far the most attention, even in the two constitutions where the writers did not use the word itself. Government also gets pretty full treat-ment, especially in the abstract, and texts which reflect some reluctance to say that a moderator governs will spell out for her a number of responsibilities which are clearly those of govern-ment. Leadership is stressed much less. The word rarely occurs except in phrases such as "the general moderator is the leader of the congregation" or "the sister chosen as the general moderator 182 Review for Religious should have qualities of leadership." Leadership in its ordinary sense, however, is very often implied, and the spiritual role of leadership is clear. Religious Government and Authority. Statements about gov-ernment alone are usually clear and often pithy. They tend to ~pecify purpose: "Government in the eongregation provides structures and offices that facilitate our common life and ministry by ordering relat!onsh'ips and designating the functions of the members" (U.S.A.). "Governance is the means through which the resources of the congregation are unified, directed, and integrated" (U.S.A.). More subjec-tively descriptive but still purposeful is a' statement such as this: "Government is an experience in relationships, in deci-sion making, and in communication. Through itwe strive together to seek and do God's will" (Rome). From England comes the observation, that government is par.t of any organized society and that, in the case of rel!gious, it maintains the inspiration, nature, and purpose of an institute as living reali-ties. Most of the provision for government follows statements on authority which place its source in God o1: in Jesus Christ and which distinguish it from other kinds of personal power: :'Christ's authority given him by the Father was clearly .distinct in its exer-cise from the authority of the rulers of this world who lord it over their subjects," says an Irish text. "Christ expressed his authority in loving service: to heal, to forgive, to give life, to send in mis-sion." Some texts underline the ecclesial dimension: "Authority is given by God to the church, and it is from the church that the congregation receives its recognition as a religious institute and therefore a share in the authority of Christ" (England). "Authority in our institute is of an ecclesial nature and should reflect the self-g!ving of our divine master" (Philippines). "God is the source of all authority, but in working out his plan he asks for our coop-eration" (England). Some constitutions refer authority directly I have a strong sense, however, of difference in climate and general approach between sisters who are superiors with a council responsible to a general chapter and sisters who are presidents with a cabinet responsible to a senate. March-April 1993 183 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government The model of religious authority is, without exception, Jesus Christ. to superiors and chapters, but at least one broadens it to this: "From Jesus, proclaimed in the gospel, the authority of the . . . congregation, mediated and affirmed through the church, resides in the communion of its members according to their respective roles" (U.S.A.). The model of religious authority is, without exception, Jesus Christ, "the master who made himself servant in order that those he served might share his life and mission and that they in their turn might minister to others" (England). "Evangelical author-ity," says a congregation based in Rome, "is service which reflects the humility and self-giving of Jesus." Another one says: "Authority is founded on Christ, who received it from the Father and who came as one who serves. The example and teaching of Christ inspire sisters in positions of authority and all of us to serve as he did" (Rome). From Austria comes this statement: "In a religious con-gregation, the only model of authority is Jesus." The same arti-cle goes on to say, "Being a Marian congregation, all authority should reflect the gentleness and motherliness of our blessed Mother." This unanimously affirmed source and model determines to a great extent what the constitutions have to say about the nature of religious authority, what it requires, what it extends to, and how it is exercised. The question "What is it?" is variously answered: "It is a service meant to help the sisters discern and accomplish God's will" (U.S.A.). "It is a ministry of service which has as its object the fostering of unity in our diversity and the promotion of our mission in the life and work of the church" (England). "It helps us incarnate the vision of our founder in our time and to go forward together in the same spirit towards the same end" (Canada). Unity, mission, identity, and the discerning of God's will recur constantly as themes of response to the ques-tion "What is religious authority?" or "What is it all about?" It is interesting that the attempts to define authority as principle, which tied some of the renewal chapters in knots in the late 1960s, have been abandoned in the approved constitutions. There is no dictionary definition but rather a description, or an inference from needs and consequences, which is concrete rather' than the- 184 Reviev~ for Religions oretical. It expresses a basic principle, however, and links it with government, charisms, obedience, and leadership. This principle is nearly always taken from the standpoint of faith. What is required for the exercise of religious authority is expressed in terms of values, attitudes, qualities, and relation-ships. Sisters exercising authority do so for the sake of unity, wit-ness, effective corporate service, the growth of their sisters towards the fullness of Christ, and the building of the kingdom of God (Belgium, France, South Africa, U.S.A.). They are asked to be unifiers, animators, discerners, listeners (England, Holland, Ireland). The qualities looked for in a good superior at whatever level are instructive. In these texts there is much less of the utopi-anism that characterized the early 1970s and scared away many a good potential superior by requiring a combination of qualities which an archangel would have had a hard time meeting. The requirements now are geared to a more realistic perception. "A sis-ter who exemplifies the spirit and life of our congregation" (India) is a requirement which recurs fairly often and which applies to religious Pope Paul VI's observation that the people of our time respond better to example than to theory. "A woman of prayer and faith, close to God in her personal life" is also often mentioned. Then come the personality traits: compassion, courage, vision, love for the institute and for the sis-ters, practical intelligence; then the qualities that relate specifically to the exercise of authority: perceptiveness, good judgment, patience, balance, firmness, experience of life, and the capacity to listen, to collaborate, and to decide. It is noticeable that recently approved constitutions take it for granted that the qualities of those exercising authority need to be complemented and com-pleted by those of their immediate collaborators and by the sisters at large. Hence the importance of relationships, not only in the sense of personal relations--as, for example, between a superior and her councilors or with her sisters--but also in the deeper sense of the necessary interrelation of authority and obedience for the common project, or in "the sense that all the sisters in their various ways are responsible for the good of the institute. "There can be no community among us," says one text, "unless our com-mon life and mission are governed by deliberations and decisions that draw us all towards a u.nity of thought, sentiment, and action. To those deliberations and decisions we are all obligated as reli-gious pledged to obedience--both to contribute and to respond" March-April 1993 185 Linscott ¯ Leader'sbip; Authority, and Religious Government (U.S.A.). A text from England sees sisters serving in authority as "challenging each sister to fidelity in our shared spirit and charism so that our way of prayiiag, living, and working together may be fruitful for burselves and for others." This kind of statement car-ries religious authority beyond the juridical limits of the consti-tfitions and church law according to which it is exercised and into the realm of th~ basic values of religious life for which it is given. Principies foi" the exercise of religious ~iuthority receive more attention in recently approved ,constitutions than in preceding texts, where they tended to be taken for granted. As early as 1966, Ecdesiae Sanctae provided for "an ample and free consultatiofi of all [the religious in an institute]" in the preparation of the special general chapter of renewal (ES §4), and this basic concept of par- ~igipation echoes in practically every text. One document puts it like this: "Since the Holy Spirit works in all, we encourage the active pai:dcipation of each in the decision-making process within the community and the congregation. Our acceptance of respon-sibility for implementing the decisions made is a source of unity among us" (U.S.A.). Participation is seeh as a source of mutual support (India) and is meant to further the aims and goals of the congregation (U.S.A.). More specific than participation as a gen-eral principle is participative government which, according to one text, "includes these elements fundamental to government struc-tures: sl~ared responsibility, subsidiarity, accountability" (U.S.A.). These last three principles, together with the need for commu-nication, are mentioned in practically all tiae constitutions stud-ied and directly reflect the influence of Vatican II. The American text just quoted says that shared responsibility, subsidiarity, and ac6ountability are fundamental to government structures. In one' way, such structures exist to make religiofis authority effective: They channel authority and locate it, limit it, and focus it. They are, therefore, very specific to each institute, reflecting as they do its charism and traditibns, it~ circumstances and its cultures. The connection.wii:h charism is usually evident. Congregations whose founding gift requires a stable way of life in the sense of a fair amount of residential stability and a good deal of authority at the local level will have structures that allow for decentralization and immediate participation. Congregations whose founding gift requires apostolic mobility will have more centralized general structures if things are to work well, and par-ticipation in matters beyond the local level will often be limited i 86 Review for Religious to elected representatives. For example, three congregations in the Benedictine tradition from three different continents all have structures which move solidly from the individual sister to cor-porate unity. Two institutes strongly in the Ignatian tradition begin with the need for someone "who holds the charge of the entire body of the society and whose duty is the good government, preser-vation, and development of the whole body" (Ireland). Here the starting point is the superior general. Most institutes lie on an arc somewhere between these two. The fact is that structures, all of which are approved as adequate in their provisions for government, can be as varied as the charisms they reflect. Circumstances diversify them still further, for there are bound to be dif-ferences in structures of government between an institute many of whose sis-ters are centered in one house Structures, all of which are approved as adequate in their provisions for government, can be as varied as the charisms they reflect. (England), an institute whose sisters are in small houses near to each other (Belgium), and an institute whose members are widely scattered across vast areas in the prairies of the United States or the outback of Australia. Cultures, too, certainly affect structures and in particular the way in which structures are regarded. Institutes of the same reli-gious family and with a good deal of common tradition keep adapting their structures differently according as they are in Australia, Canada, Rome, or the United States. The European texts lay stress on the persons who exercise authority, their qual-ities, responsibilities, soundness of judgment, relation to others, accountability. There is an underlying element of trust and need to support, and an implication that, given the right persons, things cannot go too far wrong even if the structures themselves are less than perfect. This, however, is not an excuse for poor structures. The structural provisions are generally good. The Indian texts have greater structural detail, but still a considerable stress on the person. Some of the American texts, however, are very strong on structure, almost as if good structure of government could protect an institute from any kind of abuse of power. This is by no means a universal feature of texts from. the United States, but March-April 1993 187 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government where it occurs the structures are given in great detail, there is generally a system of checks and balances, a high proportion of the whole text is devoted to government, and there is not very much about the kind of sister looked for to exercise authority. In an extreme case, there is no more than the bare juridical require-ments. Again, between the two extremes, there is a wide range across the sixty texts. Each of them has been approved in its own right. The only point I make here is that, beyond the influence of charism and of apostolic circumstances, governmental structures for the exercise of religious authority are affected to some extent by culture. This has its own repercussion, of course, in interna-tional congregations. Religious Authority and Leadership. That the duty of leading is an aspect of government and that religious authority is given for this purpose is clear in most of the constitutions. "Those who hold authority in the institute have the right and responsibility to lead it in fidelity to its spirit and mission," says a text from Australia. There are also many references to general and local superiors being leaders of the whole institute or of the local com-munity respectively. What this leadership consists in emerges from the qualities looked for in a superior: "A woman of faith, discretion, and courage, she cultivates a spirit of availability and openness. A woman of compassion and understanding, she inspires, unifies, directs. A woman of fidelity, she fosters a response to the church and the world in accord with our charism. She is responsible for creating an atmosphere conducive to the spiri-tual, intellectual, and affective growth of each member, and she should show more concern for the Holy Spirit and for persons than for structures as such and for the letter of the law" (U.S.A.). This pastoral approach reappears in very many texts. Superiors lead by what they are and what they do: "She is steward of our way of life., of the heritage and mission of the congregation and of the gifts of each sister . She leads by her example, teaching, and decisions . . . and she exercises her authority with pastoral con-cern" (Australia). If the superior is expected to have leadership qualities, they are of a Christlike kind and facilitate her free and simple exercise of authority. One constitutional text notes that, when this is the case, the leadership qualities in the sisters are also fostered. "The right exercise of authority encourages each sister to become that per-son whom the Father called in Christ. The superior is confident 188 Review for Religious that the Spirit who creates diversity is able by his loving influ-ence to preserve union of mind and heart among the sisters. In this encouraging atmosphere, the graces of our baptism and religious vocation give rise to a number of leadership qualities among the sisters, all contributing to the vitality of community and the ful-fillment of our mission in the church" (U.S.A.). The role of authority in its pas-toral leading then becomes the encourage-ment and harmonizing of the leadership gifts in the community. This very fact points out the distinc-tion between the authority to lead that is vested in one person with assistance from others and the leadership gifts that can be in any community member. The two are not the same and are usually distinguished when they appear in constitutions. For example, we have from Australia: "The superior exercises her authority according to the spirit and laws of our congregation. In giving leadership, she encourages the participation of all the members," and from the United States: "The community min-ister is the canonical leader and unifier of the congregation. She has authority and responsibility for spiritual and apostolic lead-ership." If the kind of leadership expected of sisters in authority is implied in the qualities desired for eligibility, the direction of that leadership is usually implicit in their functions. At the general level, a superior "unifies in charity, urges fidelity to the gospel and to the constitutions; calls individuals and groups to core-sponsibility and account; keeps abreast of movements in the church and in society; enunciates goals and priorities as a com-munity in mission; focuses the corporate nature of our life and mission; and serves in various representative and governmental capacities" (U.S.A.). At the local level she serves the action of the Holy Spirit who is forming the community from within into a single body for the building of the kingdom (Canada). In texts from Malta, India, the Philippines, and New Zealand, too, this is spelled out in terms of animation, administration, and forma-tion. The role of authority in its pastoral leading then becomes the encouragement and harmonizing of the leadership gifts in the community. March-April 1993 189 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Relig4ous Government The ideal would seem to be that a sister who exercises reli-gious authority is a leader and that her leadership qualities are evident in her governing as she encourages and draws on the gifts of her sisters, especially those who more immediately share responsibility with her, for the well-being of the community. Leadership and Government. For the sake of completeness, there should be a word about what the constitutions give us on leadership and government. It is a short word, because they say very little on the point directly. For the constitutions, leadership is a quality desirable in sisters exercising authority, and govern-ment is the concrete process by which authority is exercised to unify and animate the institute so as to attain its goal. The texts take both leadership and government in relation to authority, not in relation to each other. We are obliged, so to speak, to go via authority if we want to link the other two. This is probably an inevitable state of affairs, for constitutions are spiritual juridical documents which give principles and norms for what can be leg-islated. Both authority and government are patient of legislation; leadership is not. So it is normal that, while several texts hope for leadership as a quality in those vested with authority to gov-ern, nobody assumes that it is a quality conferred by the fact of having that authority. This in itself is a realistic step forward. Conclusion How can we summarize all this? The new elements that mark the current phase of religious government in contrast to those which preceded it seem to be: ¯ a renewed sense of the spiritual dimension and of the kind of responsibility which it involves; ¯ a sharp awareness of the rediscovered founding charism; the concept of authority as service reflecting the Christ who came not to be served but to serve; ¯ the idea of complementing necessary gifts; openness to a wide participation of the sisters in general according to their roles and experience, continuing the thrust of the Second Vatican Council on the dignity of each person and expressing the belief that the Holy Spirit can work through each one for the good of the whole; ¯ the adoption of responsibility, subsidiarity, and account-ability as basic principles; ¯ the recognition by many that religious government is inseparably linked with the founding charism and with 190 Review for Religious the vow of obedience and so has a dimension of faith and of relation to the church that distinguishes it ultimately from administration, organization, management, or indeed any other form of government. At the same time, pro-cesses of consensus and discernment, variously under-stood, have been widely adopted. The evolution of the understanding and praxis of leadership, authority, and government in religious life is continuous. It is not in itself an experiment which can be tried out for a certain num-ber of years and then be confirmed, modified, or dropped, although individual structures expressing it can be handled in this way. In itself the evolutitn is essential and consistent. It is, there-fore, from the viewpoint of the present moment in an evolving continuum that we can pick up the two questions we raised some pages back. Has the basic function of leadership, authority, and government in religious life changed? If it has, why? Ana to what? We have seen that the goals and values for which leadership, authority, and gov-ernment exist in religious iife go far back in history, emerging from the following of Christ in radic~il gospel living as it was first understood bythe desert fathers and mothers and the early mqnks. From at least the time of St. Benedict, these goals and values have included the promotion of individual and community growth towards the full maturity of Christ; th~ fostering of unity, peace, and mission at the service of the church; the encouragement of fidelity; the ensuring of forrhation; the provision of the necessi-ties for consecrated life, all in accord with the particular found-ing charism of the institute. It is evident from the survey of the sixty recently approved constitutions that these basic goals and values remain constant. The stated purpose and function of gov-ernment is always that the institute a~hieve the goal for which it exists in the church: a specific pu.blic witness to Christ and his gospel in unity, prayer, and growth in love and in the service of mission. As regards these purposes, there is little change. What has changed, from the evidence of quite a few texts, is something which is not directly within the competence of con-stitutions: the kind and extent of responsibility actually involved in undertaking the service of government today. Whereas, even into the 19th century, religious government was (and in principle still is) primarily a spiritual and ecclesial matter, for many insti-tutes of sisters today there are accretions which create a further and different kind of responsibility. A superior general who has March-April 1993 191 Linscott ¯ Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government been elected to see to the growth and mission of her sisters in service to the sick with Christ the healer may find herself by that very fact fostering that growth as president of a multimillion-dol-lar hospital corporation. The superior of an institute with an apos-tolate of education may well be ex officio a member of the boards of various colleges and universities. She will almost inevitably find herself ultimately responsible for the administration of homes for the aged sisters and for dealing with financial reports. The spread of an institute and the desire for hands-on government may call for wide travel, a knowledge of languages, and the capac-ity for inculturation. Both public relations and communication, with all their current technicalities, will claim attention. Clearly, responsibilities have to be delegated. However, under this kind of pressure, things may get treated from the point of view of the accretions instead of the essential. This substitutes administra-tion for religious government. It tends to depersonalize, to use authority for efficiency only, without the spiritual quality which should animate the government of religious. The accretions, which are many and demanding and which show no sign of dimin-ishing of their own accord, are the proper field for delegation and group work. To elect superiors and councilors or tdam mem-bers in view of the accretions instead of the capacity to serve the basic goals and values of the institute would be to build in a dis-tortion. Somehow, the different responsibilities have to be dis-tinguished and provided for in their own right. Do our structures com'espond to their purpose and function? This is a question that each institute has to answer for itself, because each one has its unique charism that determines the purpose, function, and structures of its government. Certain circumstances, however, have influenced structures and government in many institutes of sisters dedicated to works of the apostolate; there are reflections of them in the constitutions studied. It may be worth noting them, for they could still clog the wheels in some institutes. Among such circumstances would be: ¯ an institute's existence before canonical recognition when there was not a corpus of canons a.dapted to the needs of sisters and when, in consequence, individual traditions of government could range from the very firm to the very loose according to personalities and to the local circum-stahces-- such precanonical traditions may well have an influence still; ¯ the high degree of uniformity in provisions after 1917; 192 Review for Religion, s ¯ the tendency to authoritarianism and the stress on author-ity of status between the Code of 1917 and the renewal initiated hy Vatican II; ¯ the rapid change in structures and praxis that followed the special general chapters at the end of the 1960s; ¯ the impact of social, political, and psychological change brought about by major movements over the past thirty years: peace and justice, solidarity with the poor, femi-nism, rapid communication, even the recent collapse of communism; ¯ internal tensions regarding identity vis-a-vis the laity, lifestyle, mission, place in the church, raison d'etre; ¯ some confusion of the functions of consultation, consen-sus, and discernment with the functions proper to gov-ernment. SCRIS had a point in the early 1970s when it held that lead-ership and religious authority are not the same thing and that their respective relations to government are different. Time has brought out, however, that religious government does not impose a choice between the two. On the contrary, both are needed, although in different ways. Good religious government reflects not only the word of the gospel, but the Word himself, who leads as pastor and as servant precisely because he so evidently has authority. 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, or institutional promotion of for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be considered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. March-April 1993 193 JANICE McLAUGHLIN The Meaning of Evangelization Today evangelizing The Shona people of Africa have many names for God. My favorite is "Chipindikure"--The One Who Turns Things Upside Down. Chipindikure comes from the root word kupinduka, which means transformation or revolu-tion. This is what God is doing in the life of each of us and in our world. And this, I think, is what evangelization is all about; letting God's message--which is the most revolu-tionary message the world has ever known--letting that message transform us, turn us upside down, so that we in turn may transform society. Evangelization, then, is about change and about choice. I can say no to change. I can choose to stay in my little rut and refuse to be shaken up and turned upside down. But God does not give up that easily. Like St. Paul, God knocks us off our horse over and over again until we get the message. We have all had these moments of insight in our lives, these turning points, which open us to n~w possibilities. Let us look at some examples of what I mean from my experience--after which I hope you will look at examples from your own experience. After I entered Maryknoll in 1961, I became involved in the civil-rights movement and the antiwar movement. Janice McLaughlin MM spent 22 years in Africa. She recently completed her doctoral dissertation on "The Catholic Church and Zimbabwe's War of Liberation 1972-1980" at the University of Zimbabwe. She may be addressed at Community Office; Maryknoll Sisters; Maryknoll, New York 10545. 194 Review 3~br Religious I also worked with the "war on poverty" program in the small town of Ossining, New York, near Maryknoll. But I think that my eyes were really opened for the first time when I went to East Africa in 1969. Learning another language and living in another culture is perhaps a shortcut to transformation. It forced me to give up my old way of looking at things--my Pittsburgh, St. Lawrence O'Toole Parish, McLaughlin, United States way of looking at life, at God, at the world. It is a shock to learn that you do not have all the answers and that you are not even asking the right questions. The wonderful people of Kenya, and later the people of Zimbabwe and Mozambique, taught me that people are more important than things; that being is more important than doing; that God and relationships are at the heart of everything. In 1977 I went from Kenya to Zimbabwe, which was Southern Rhodesia at that time, and worked as the press secre-tary for the Justice and Peace Commission. I was detained and then deported for telling the truth about the war that was taking place there. Racial segregation and discrimination were govern-ment policy, as they had once been here in the United States. I saw that the war of liberation was an Exodus experience for the African people as they journeyed from slavery to freedom. I came to realize that this iourney goes on in each of our lives as we seek to free ourselves from whatever enslaves us. For some peo-ple it is drugs or alcohol or a history of physical or sexual abuse. For us religious it is often our fears, our inflexibility, and our selfishness. Later I worked with refugees from the war and saw that we are all refugees on a journey through life to our true home. The refugees showed me that, the less we carry on the journey, the easier it will be to reach our destination. In fact, life is a process of stripping us of all we cherish until God is all and everything for us. This is the mystery of death and resurrection which is at the heart of our faith--dying to self so that we may live in Christ. Thus refugees and displaced persons, political prisoners and freedom fighters, and the courageous men, women, and children of Africa who never give up hoping in the midst of so much destruction and death have evangelized me and have shown me that evangelization is incarnational and prophetic and is rooted in prayer. March-April 1993 195 McLaugblin. Evangelization Evangelization Is Incarnational Valentine, one of my students at a school for freedom fight-ers in Maputo, Mozambique, helped me see how incarnation works today. He told me how he had joined the liberation strug-gle after his graduation. "I thought I was better than the others because I had finished high school," he confessed. "I thought that I would be made ~ commander. But I was treated like everyone else." He said that his clothes became torn, that he had no soap for bathing, and little food. He began to think that he had made a mistake and that life was better under colonialism. "Then in my downtrodden position," he said, "I learned the beauty of the revolution. I learned that my suffering was to help others. My life now is to serve the people." Valentine was turned upside down, from being a conceited, selfish youth to becoming a person for others. "From my down-trodden position, I learned. ," he said. This is how God teaches all of us. When we are down and out; when we have lost what is precious to us; when we do not have all the answers; when we feel useless, lost, and alone: God reaches out and touches our pain, our suffering, our loss, turning our little daily deaths into new life. "She who loses her life will find it," God has promised. The happiest moments of my life were the times when I had the least, when, like Valentine, I was downtrodden and suffering with and for others. The three weeks I spent in solitary confine-ment in a Rhodesian prison, for instance, I had few material pos-sessions: a prison uniform, a lumpy bed, and lousy food. But this hardly mattered because the other prisoners reached out to me and welcomed me in their midst. They sang freedom songs at night and smuggled notes to me during the day. They even sent me food when they learned that I liked their African diet. I felt part of something bigger than myself. I was suffering for a cause, and the pain and fear no longer mattered because I was not alone. I was with the oppressed people, and God was there with us in our prison cells. I had this same experience of solidarity and closeness to God in the refugee camps deep in the forests of Mozambique. There I was the one who was weak and powerless. I did not know how to survive in the forest, so the children became my caretakers and guides. They would keep me company to cheer me up; they would teach me their language and share with me any special treats like sugarcane or maputi (a kind of popcorn). They were ministering 196 Review for Religious to me. I did not have to produce or perform, but merely to be there with them in their exile from home. This incarnational approach from within is very different from the balcony approach, where we stand outside and above, pointing fingers at what is wrong and telling others to change. Too often church people, including us religious, stand on our bal-conies criticizing and throwing stones at the world instead of immersing ourselves in the pain and suffering of the poor and oppressed, as Christ did. This immersion enables us to see the world from a new perspective. It is what turns us upside down. Evangelization Is Prophetic When we have been changed, then we are ready to change the world together with the victims. I remember an African sis-ter in Zimbabwe, Sister Marie Theresa Paulino, who explained to me how she became involved in assisting the freedom fighters during the war of liberation. "I thought of Jesus carrying his cross," she told me. "Everyone stood on the sidelines and watched. Only one woman had courage and came forward to wipe his face with her veil. I decided that I could not stand on the sidelines and watch my people suffering, but like Veronica I must have courage and do something to help." She was a nurse. She would disguise herself as a peasant woman, tie her medical instruments around her waist, and walk long distances to mountain caves where she would treat freedom fighters who had been wounded. This was a very risky thing to do. She could have been arrested and even killed if caught by the government authorities. Who knows what the church authorities would have done if they had known of this single sister's act of courage to wipe the face of her suffering people? Each of us is called to have this kind of courage, to wipe the faces of suffering people: the homeless in our streets, the drug addicts, the AIDS patients, the gangs in our inner cities, the sin-gle mothers, the abused and abandoned children, the new immi-grants. I have discovered in the months that I have been back in the United States that there are endless problems here needing to be solved. In fact, it seems tp me that the people of the United States are much more needy than the people I have known in Africa; people in this country of excess and abundance are in dan-ger of losing their souls. Marcb-Atrril 1993 197 McLaugblin ¯ Evangelization Prophetic action is needed to turn the values of this country upside down. We need more than a new president or a new congress or a balanced budget, though these might help. We need more than family values, though these too might help. If we want to save this country, save this planet, and save ourselves, we must return to the radical message of Christ in the gospels. What would the world look like if we truly walked in the footsteps of Christ? Do you think we would turn back Haitians fleeing the poverty and violence in their country? Would we exonerate the police-men who beat up Rodney King? Would we doubt Anita Hill? Would we bomb Iraq or any other so-called enemy? Would defense be our largest industry? Would we fail to sign environ-mental treaties at the Earth Summit? Would we allow thousands of Africans to die of starvation? Would we walk by the homeless in our streets? Would we allow violence and sex to dominate our television and movie screens? Would we let money rule our lives and rob our souls? Someone must stand up and say that t.he emperor has no clothes. Emperors, whether in the church or in society, do not like being reminded of their nakedness, and so we can expect to be condemned and criticized. Do we expect that we his servants should not suffer as Christ, our master, has suffered all these things for our sakes? Let me tell you of a friend of mine in Zimbabwe, Father Michael Lapsley. He is an Anglican priest from New Zealand who has spend all of his adult life condemning the sin of apartheid in South Africa. He was deported from South Africa and from Lesotho. Then two years ago in Harare he opened a package that had come to him from South Africa. It was a letter bomb. It blew off both his hands and destroyed one of his eyes. When I went to see him in the hospital a few days after the bombing, he had two bandaged stumps where his hands had been and a gaping hole that had held his eye. If it had been me, I would rather have been dead. But Michael was cheerful, and he said, "The Boers took my hands and my eye, but they left me my most powerful weapon, my tongue. And with my tongue I will continue to denounce apartheid until the day I die." This is what it means to evangelize the world, to live as Christ did and in so doing to change the world. 198 Reviev; for Religious Evangelization Is Rooted in Prayer We cannot hope to lead such radical lives without the sup-port of prayer. Prayer will give us the courage to take risks, the wisdom to expose the lies of our society, and the strength to join the victims. My understanding of prayer, too, been changed by my expe-rience in Africa. The African leader and philosopher Leopold Senghor has said, "Faith here [in Africa] is as essential to the soul as is bi'ead, rice, or honey to the body. Africans' gift to humankind is their ability to.perceive the supernatural as something really natural--so to speak." Creation spirituality, then, is nothing new to the people of Africa. It is their cul-ture and their way of life. They do not dis-tinguish between the sacred and the secukir. God is perceived as being tru.ly present everywhere and in all things. So they respect other human beings as the temples of God, and they respect the earth and all its creatures as God's dwelling place. African spirituality is all-embracing; there is nothing outside its scope. During Zimbabwe's war of lib-eration, for instance, the traditional religious leaders set down rules of conduct for the freedom fighters. VChile these spiritual men and women who are prophets, healers, bringers of rain, and mediums between the living and the dead were not able to prevent the war, they were able to humanize it by forbidding the needless shedding of blood and the destruction of wildlife and vegetation. African religion thus played an important role in introducing spir-itual norms and values into the freedom struggle. A recent article about prayer from South Africa's Institute for Contextual Theology points out the surprising fact that Jesus had not been teaching his disciples how to pray. They had to ask him. The article explains that Jesus wanted his followers to experience prayer as a need rather than a duty, and notes that there is no commandment in the Bible which says, "Thou shalt pray." It goes on to explain that prayer is like eating and sleeping. Unless there is something wrong with us, we will all eventually feel the need for food and for sleep. The same is true of prayer. How we pray will vary with each person and with our situation. Prayer will give us the courage to take risks, the wisdom to expose the lies of our society, and the strength to join the victims. March-April 1993 199 McLaughlin ¯ Evangelization Africa has taught me to be still and listen to God speaking through all creation and through the people and events I encounter each day. It has taught me to take time for silent pr.ayer, as well as to join in religious celebrations of the people. I have learned to trust the action of God in my life and in other people, rather than trying to do everything myself. Conclusion Life, then, is a journey towards God and with God. Evangelization involves becoming aware of this presence of God in our lives and then sharing this knowledge with others. I believe that this awareness grows when we immerse ourselves in the real-ity of the poor, whether in Zimbabwe, New York, or New South Wales. Their suffering and their faith shatter our complacency, forcing us to question all our preconceptions and prejudices, turn-ing us upside down. We can either become cynical, hopeless, and bitter, or we can face our own powerlessness and grow in faith, hope, and trust in God. Steve Biko, the South African leader who was tortured and died in prison, once said that comfort and security are incom-patible with leadership. I would add that they are incompatible with religious life. We will rarely be turned upside down in the comfort and security of our middle-class convents, spending all our time looking inward at our own spiritual growth. When we come down from our balconies and go out to oth-ers, especially the outcasts and the most needy, we will come alive. It is prophetic just to take the poor seriously in this society where wealth, possessions, and power mean so much. I should add that as women we are also among the poor and the oppressed because we have so little power in our society and in our church. Making the voices of the poor heard in our churches, homes, and offices and in the corridors of power throughout this land can make a difference. I firmly believe that we religious women can turn this society upside down. Let us do it! 200 Review for Religious Questions for reflection and sharing: i. Reflect on some of the turning points in your own life. How were you turned upside down? 2. What do you think needs to be turned upside down in your present situation? 3. What do you think needs to be turned upside down in this society? 4. What action will you take to make at least one of these changes? A Daughter's Monologue with Her Mother You are my child now. Now, you are my child. You may raise your brows at my leaving, or close your eyes on approach, wanting more nearly to turn toward the wall, to shut out the world long since set aside; one you no longer speak to. I will make room for your mood; your darkness, delight. You are my child now; who shall I name you ? You are my child now. There's no wanting in you but ¯ merits my care. You can wear soft hair in brhiding or turned in a bun. Neither will burnish my love nor undo it. Rest quietly, then, macushla. You can't disappoint me. Just who you are is my best expectation. You are my child now; I am the mother. Ann Maureen Gallagher IHM March-April 1993 201 MARIO I. AGUILAR Broken African Pots and a Mission Spirituality MwisSionary work in Africa has for years been associated ith lonely and courageous missionaries, single indi-viduals or very small communities of religious and lay people who have preached the gospel on the African continent in very diffi-cult circumstances. While the former facts are true in some way, in this article I want to look at the particular experience of a group of religious women and men working in Garba Tulla, Kenya, and their own sense of achievement and failure. Although this case is a very localized one, it opens the way to another understanding of missionary spirituality and, I would say, missionary work. I kvill focus, not on missionary strategies--that would constitute mate-rial for missiological studies--but on African pottery. I believe it can help to illustrate a spirituality for mission. In this article I assert that spiritual fulfillment, failure, and possible despair in missionary work are directly related to our own expectations coming from our own sense of achievement and self-understanding. The particular goals and expectations that missionaries arrive with permeate their sense of fulfillment and failurein their missionary work. What one person considers to be success and fulfillment can seem to be failure and reason for despair to somebody else. For this reason I suggest that the African way of making pottery could help us discover God's pres- Mario I. Aguilar SVD has taught Scripture and religious studies in Kenya and anthropology at the University of Vienna. His present address is: School of Oriental and African Studies; Department of Anthropology; Thornhaugh St. Russell Square; London WC1H 0XG; England. 202 Revie~ for Religious ence in different cultures--something I would consider the final goal in missionary work and in our own search for a spirituality of mission. On the other hand, there is this about African pottery: it involves making, breaking, and remaking pots. It is a constant process, one which never ends. Garba Tulla Parish: A Case Study The parish of the Good Shepherd (Parokia Tissitu Dansa) of Garba Tulla is located in the Isiolo deanery of the diocese of Meru, Eastern Kenya. The parish as such was created in 1987, after years of being an outstation of the Isiolo parish and then a so-called Catholic mission. By most people it is still considered the Garba Tulla Catholic Mission. Located in a semidesert area and in the middle of Garba Tulla town, it has a very short history as a so-called missionary presence among th~ Boorana people of the area. From the late 1970s, priests from the Isiolo parish (120 kilo-meters away) had gone to Garba Tulla, mainly on weekends, in order to celebrate the Eucharist with the Catholics who worked in the area. It cannot be denied that their missionary presence was oriented towards the conversion of the Muslim Boorana towards Christianity and specifically towards the Catholic Church.' In 1985 one priest and two brothers established their resi-dence for the first time at the Catholic Mission in Garba Tulla, but my case study begins in 1986, when a group of religious sisters joined the men religious who had been working in the area. At that time the missionary personnel working in Garba Tulla started considering themselves a team, a mission team of religious rather than a number of individuals working in the area. In a deanery where most of the priests come from diocesan backgrounds, this missionary team of religious constituted a novelty. Regarding a missionary strategy, the team went through stages of understanding their presence and work in the area. During the first stage, 1986-1987, the team moved towards being a Christian presence among the people, i3ut with the spiritual goal of fulfill-ment through the conversion of Muslims to the gospel. Their sense of spiritual fulfillment in mission came from the fact of their presence there and from the hopeful possibility that some Muslims would eventually believe in the gospel. New enterprises and new expectations, especially for a team Marcb-~lt~il 1993 203 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Each one of the religious on the team felt that his or her spiritual fulfillment depended on the implementation of a particular model of mission. which had just arrived in the area, provided a time of search for strategies and for a religious spirituality that stressed God's dia-logue with his people, but also stressed the need people have for Christ as the ultimate revelation of God. That was expressed in the creation of many projects of development and in efforts to form a praying community among the team, because of the lack of Christians from the Boorana people of Garba Tulla themselves. The team comprised seven people, who came from seven different countries--a nat-ural richness, one would say. Nevertheless, it created a deep crisis of purpose, because of the different understandings of mission work present among members of the team. By 1987 the leader of the team was changed under difficult circumstances, and a search for a new purpose began once again. There was a new sense of searching for fulfillment after the damage caused by the team's fail-ures of communication and understanding had somehow been repaired. (I believe that those scars will never be healed completely.) The spiritual failure felt by the team was ¯ explained as part of the problem of having a team with individuals of different nationalities and therefore with different models of mission. There were ethnocentric tones to the problem as well; people failed to understand one another's attitudes. Nevertheless, I would say that, by itself, the variety of spiritualities present in the team caused enough internal tensions for a complete breakdown in communication and cooperation. Each one of the religious on the team felt at one point or another that his or her spiritual fulfillment depended on the implementa-tion of a particular model of mission. New attempts to unite the team around a particular model of mission work have in reality also failed, even as new leaders in the team have moved to a second stage, dialogue with the Muslim community, and a third stage, the strengthening of the parish. Those two attempts provided a complete change from the above-mentioned first stage, which was concerned with the actual con-version of the Muslim community towards Christianity. This case could sound like a very familiar story among reli- 204 Review for Religious gious, but to me it posed many questions regarding spiritual ful-fillment, acceptance, failure, and even despair in missionary work. The result of that time of tension was a new beginning, a new search. Years later the team is still searching for answers. Years later different nationalities are still trying to understand what went wrong with those religious at that time, and the scars are still present. As a member of the team which followed the 1987 crisis, I asked myself many times if what actually went wrong was con-nected, not to mission strategies, but rather to a very limited understanding of a spirituality for mission. That mission team ran out of their spiritual resources as religious because they failed to accept that personal fulfillment also requires failures and even despair at certain times of our lives. It is in this sense that I pro-pose that African pottery provides a model that fits our need for spiritual fulfillment and the presence of God in our lives. Success and Failure in an African Pot In 1992 I had the wonderful opportunity to sit surrounded by potters at a village of the Nkhoma mountains in Malawi. The potters were women who belong to the Chewa people. I was acquainted with the art of pottery in my home country, Chile, and also as a religious I had explored the possibility of prayer involving the use of clay and pottery, with very limited results. But now I felt the need to relate a spirituality for mission, based on my experience in Kenya, to the feelings and events of those days spent under the sun in the mountains of Malawi. Among the Chewa people, women produce pottery while men weave mats. A group of women sit in front of a house, surrounded by their children. Usually one woman has learned the techniques of pottery from another village and teaches the others. The clay is prepared by being pounded in a mortar so as to eliminate impu-rities. Pottery making begins when the woman takes a lump of clay and proceeds to pick out of it the hard little pieces that are still present and would cause problems as the clay is molded. The complete process is simple and at the same time elaborate; skill comes only with practice. The more pots you make, the more skilled you become. The clay is pounded with the palms of both hands till it becomes like a flat plate. Then it is slapped at the sides, till the March-April 1993 205 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots A broken pot is never thrown away; it becomes an important part of the process of making new pots. actual form of a vessel begins to appear. This is done with round movements of the hands, with the clay in the air. The shoulders give a certain rhythm to this hard process. A lot of strength is required to shape the clay, and what looks like easy work---and fun, too, in a way--is really hard physical work. The potter's hands become hard and dirty. (A skillful potter can make six or seven new pots in a morning's work.) Finally the pot begins to take shape, and what was a piece of clay looks like a new creation. The whole activity of pottery making is witnessed by a group of the village com-munity. Small girls try their luck at pot-tery making. They mold smaller pieces of clay into small pots, their own contribu-tion to village life and a particular com-munity activity. Less-skilled women who are still learning the potter's art are helped regularly by those who have more experi-ence and skill. The whole activity becomes a community activity, in which individu-als are not ashamed of being helped in their process of pottery making. Individual women are encouraged by others with the phrases "Press harder, . Push the clay up," "Make sure both of your hands are molding the clay," and so forth. There is a constant concern for each other. At the proper moment the new, shaped piece of clay is placed on pieces of broken pots that have been spread out on the ground. Those pieces come from pots which broke while being fired or broke while being used for cooking on the family fire. Broken pots, therefore, are still useful for the community in their cre-ative activity. A broken pot is never thrown away; it becomes an important part of the process of making new pots. Broken pots symbolize the continuity of a particular village, where new pots could not be made and would not exist without the contribution made by those broken pots. The past of a people is symbolized by the broken pots, which become part of a present and provide con-tinuity for the future of a people who need to be fed in order to have a future. In the pottery process the potters constandy apply water to the 206 Review for Religious clay while they shape it. The broken pots and the water both con-tribute to the making of new pots. The clay placed on the broken pieces of pottery lies at arms' length in front of the potter as she sits spread-legged on the grtund. When one asks the women why they work this way, they simply say it l~as always been like this. For my part, I am reminded of the act of giving birth. Just in front of the womb, a new creation is b.eing shaped and brought to "life." The process is like giving birth, I could not help thinking how distant, by contrast, from the work of their hands first-world potters appear to be, while in the African villages there is a close union between the potter and her creation, the new pot, nourishment and new life for her own village and community. A piece of wood is used to shape the sides of the pot. The bottom of the pot is shaped with a knife. The inside is cleared of any extra superfluous clay, and the pot is left to dry in the sun-- except during October, when the pots are shaded from the very strong sun of that time of year. After the clay has dried some-what, the pot is smoothed with a stone and decorated and is then ready for firing. Mthough the potter may modify the traditional line-and-dot patterns of decoration, there is a tendency.towards a good deal of continuity. When a woman ig learning pottery, she is taught how the lines and dots are "supposed to be." The process of firing the pots, which takes place some days later, provides a very interesting sight. The pots are lined up and covered.with leaves and branches, Thes~ are then set on fire. The whole community sit~ around the fire and watches as a few women take care of it. There is~ a great sense of expectation as the proc.ess goes on. Some pots will break. Others will come through in good shape and will be ready ftr the final decorations made with some roots~ while the pots are still hot. The "paint" for the decorations (red and black) is provided by local roots which the commufiity also associates with initiation and maturation.' When I was present for the first time, only one pot out of ten broke during the firing process--considered a real success by the community. Usually more pots break. Following the firing of the pots, the whole community cele-brates the event with a meal. After all, the community itself will store and cook their food in those pots and will also generate some income when they sell some of the pots at the local market. March-April 199~ 207 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Not every region produces pots, for the right kind of soil is pres-ent only in the dry areas of the Nldaoma mountains. Wonderfully, the dry soil of arid mountains is the means of feeding these com-munities and thus sustaining life. Creating and Breaking Pots in Mission Work It seems to me that when one talks about potters and pottery, one assumes (as in Jeremiah 18:1-6) that God is the potter and we are those pots of clay that he is molding. What would happen if we consider ourselves the potters and that the clay symbolizes the cultures and peoples we are trying to evangelize, such as the Boorana of Garba Tulla, Kenya? When a mission community moves in and establishes itself, a particular group of people encounters another particular group of people. Each group has its own culture. The so-called "mission-aries" have the idea of forming a Christian community with the other group. Their effort can be compared to the making of pots, for that process, too, is culturally shaped, and people's expectations derive from tradition. Without excluding the possibility of lay people being mis-sionaries and therefore "makers of pots," I will explore these con-cepts with reference to Garba Tulla and its particular makers of pots and the particular missionary community in the parish of the Good Shepherd. The potters involved here came from different cultures. They all had experience of pottery making, and all of them recognized that it could be done only in a particular, culturally constructed way. Pottery making as the creation, subsistence, and growth of a Christian community required a certain experience and a certain risk. All those missionary religious had already experienced mis-. sionary work in other cultures and had brought with them whole bundles of assumed knowledge and expectations. Because of those past experiences, the process of learning pottery making in the Garba Tulla context was already shaped by their backgrounds. There were no teachers involved in this pottery making. Each one just did as he or she knew best. The clay had been prepared by the Italian missionaries who had lived among the Boorana before. When the new potters took over, there was no period of preparation, and the process of mak-ing the pot began immediately. The pot had to be shaped accord- 208 Review for Religious ing to the potters' expectations, and everyone's expectations were different. Although fulfillment, success, and failure can be assumed in the community of African women making pottery, there was no sense of one community of pot-ters among those missionaries. The making of pots was being done individually; different pot-tery techniques were being used. While it is true that a pot is a pot and not something else, the same word when used by different peo-ple evokes different images, shapes, and colors. And so, with-out some discussion and planning and some exchange and dialogue concerning the matter, there is no way to know somebody else's ideas about the making of pots-- or the making of a Christian community. While a pot is being made, much cooperation is needed. People offer each other valuable suggestions about the shape and consistency of a pot. The water needed for making the pots needs to be shared cooperatively. But for both potters and missioners, the process of firing a pot is the crucial moment of. fulfillment or failure. Without some discussion and planning and some exchange and dialogue concerning the matter, there is no way to know somebody else's ideas about the making of pots-- or the making of a Christian community. Towards a Spirituality of Broken Pots The pots need to be fired in order to be ready for use. In fir-ing, the makers of pots learn how successful their work has been. After the ashes are cleared, some of the pots will be found broken and later find themselves part of a new effort to make pottery. The time when the community witnesses the firing of pots is a very exciting time. A whole community effo]'t is being judged and evaluated. Our Western attitude looks almost exclusively at the result: if the pots that have broken amount to none or only a few, then the whole exercise has been a great success. If the bro-ken pots are numerous, then the whole community exercise is a disaster. March-April 1993 209 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots Even if all the pots break and there is none left, they still rejoice because they have exercised a community moment, they have strengthened their common effort to keep their community fed. The African attitude toward such evaluations is completely different, and it hassomething to contribute to a missionary spir-ituality. Very few times in their lives hive the potters seen no broken pots after the firing. Even when a great number of pots breaks, they rejoice in the sturdy few that will increase the num-ber of cooking pots or the income of their community. Even if all the pots break and there is none left, they still rejoice because theyhave exercised a community moment, they have s.trengthened .their common effort to keep their community fed. If the number of new pots is none, they still have the broken pots, which are needed for the making of new ones. With these thoughts in mind, I consider no missionary effort ever to be in vain; any attempt at community life and at preaching the gospel through that community life cannot be in vain. Even the¯ so-called "fhil-ure" of the religious missionary team in Garba Tulla at a particular time, has aided new attempts to proclaim the gospel among the Boorana peo-ple. Through the life of those reli-gious, broken pots have become new pots once again. New expectations have arisen, and new people have arrived. Once again some individuals have disagreed with one another, but new expec-tations l~ave been created. Some will become'broken pots, others goo.d pots, but they will all eventually be part of each other. If'one looks at success and fulfillment and at failure and frus-tration in mission work, one realizes that the fulfillment or frus-tration among religious does not come from the visible or measurable results, but from the attitude towards those events. The sense of expectation and purpose in a religious community is the guide to the true meaning of fulfillment or frustration in mis-sionary work. Of those religious who served in Garba Tulla dur-ing that time of "crisis," some would consider that period a failure because the objectives of the planned mission work were not real-ized. Others, instead, would see tl~at period as a fulfilling and 210 Review for "Religiom. gratifying one because they provided it the much-needed experi-ence of learning how to cooperate on an international religious team. Success and failure among religious men and women can-not be evaluated in a simple empirical way, as in the business world, but they coincide with our own attitude towards the whole process of preparation for that particular time in our lives and towards the spiritual fruits which can appear during that time and afterwards. Further Points for Reflection. The lessons for a spirituality for mission based on the process of molding and firing pottery can be summarized in the follow-ing points: ¯ The whole process calls for an openness to the Spirit so as to recognize the whole process as already a "success." ¯ We need to accept that we are always learning and that oth-ers are also learning. The whole process of going through a learn-ing period in our lives is also a success. Hopefully that process of learning will never end. ¯ Pottery cannot be properly made by one person; it has to be a community effort, because we all need others to help us. Religious doing missionary work also need others in order to bear fruit and make new beautiful pots. ¯ Different people have learned pottery from different teach-ers and designs from different regions and villages. The beauty of it lies in its diversity. The success in our process of learning pot-tery comes from the realization that a proper diversity brings beauty and opportunities for exchange and dialogue. When reli-gious come from different countries and different cultures, they also experience success if they are able to recognize and appreci-ate the beauty of their diversity. ¯ The pot of water that is shared by the potters is needed for the flow of moisture in the making of pots. That water is passed around when somebody realizes that somebody else is in need: the other person's pot is also my concern. Success in missionary work begins when one realizes that all persons, including even oneself, need water at one point or another. The fact of caring for one another's project is already a success in life. ¯ The broken pots become important because they symbolize the continuity of a group of people, of a community. They are March-April 1993 211 Aguilar ¯ Broken African Pots used in a new effort to make pots for the community, for the stor-ing and preparing of food for the life of the community. The bro-ken pots become more important than the good pots because the pots that turn out fine after firing will eventually be sold to mem-bers of another community. The broken pots provide continuity of life that the village community needs. Maybe a spirituality for mission could be called a spirituality of broken pots: the more pots we break, the more successful we are, for we have experienced the past and present community pulling together, and we have recognized the need for others if we are to be successful. A spirituality of broken pots would recognize the need to accept that we cannot fully control the firing pro-cess. Whatever we do, some pots may end up broken, and so there is the possibility of trying again. Other pots may turn out well and then, in one way or another, will help the community to serve other people, even other potters, and people in other villages. The broken pots retain their unique importance because they provide the foundation for a new making of pots and thus for the food and life of the community. I feel that a spirituality for mis-sion should be a spirituality of broken pots--and that a spiritual-ity of broken pots always creates success, as Jeremiah shows: "So I went down to the potter's house; and there he was, working at the wheel. And whenever the vessel he was making came out wrong, as happens with the clay handled by potters, he would start afresh and work it into another vessel, as potters do." Note 1 See M.I. Aguilar, "Nagaa: Centro de Encuentro con el Islam," Chile Misionero, 9 (1992), and "Dialogue with Boorana Religion: A Path of the Gospel in Garba Tulla, Eastern Kenya," The Seed (Nairobi), October 1992. Review for Religious MICHAEL D. MOGA A Spirituality of Aging In life we are confronted with many spiritualities and are frequently forced to make a choice among them. There is the spirituality dis6nctive of a diocesan priest and there are many spiritualities of religious life. The spirituality of a contemplative religious is quite different from that of a religious engaged in the active apostolate. The spiritual-ities offered by oriental religions differ from those of Western religions. The theme of this paper is simple: the spirituality for an older person is quite different from the spirituality for a younger person. As we grow older the Spirit of God leads us through certain approaches and principles that are distinctive to the particular period of life in which we find ourselves. Human life is constantly changing and we are chal-lenged to move with those changes. We move through the stages of childhood and maturity into old age which demand that we leave behind one way of living to face life in a new and different way. The adjustments are difficult and may take many years to accomplish. The change from maturity to old age challenges us once again to leave something behind and to adjust to a new situation of life. Like the passage from childhood to maturity this new change presents us with a difficult Michael D. Moga SJ has taught philosophy in various seminar-ies and colleges in Mindanao. His address is Xavier University; Cagayan de Oro City; Philippines. aging christ March-April 1993 213 Moga ¯ A Spirituality of Aging adjustment which will demand a great deal of effort and pain before it is fully accomplished. I find it strange that a rather long portion of time and edu-cation (as much as 40-45 years) can be set aside to prepare a per-son for adult life whereas little or no attention or time is devoted to planning for one's final phase of life (which can sometimes last as long as 25 or 30 years)! In our early training as religious we were presented with a certain spirituality that for the most part fitted the life of a young person. It emphasized generosity ("to give and not to count the cost"), high ideals (working for "the greater glory of God"), and commitment. This spirituality was exemplified in a saint like Francis Xavier who lived a life of generous commitment until his early death at 46. He did not live long enough to face the need to change his spirituality. A spirituality for an aging religious must, of necessity, be quite different. I suggest that John the Baptist, who said: "He must increase and I must decrease," would be a fine model. John saw that his disciples were leaving him and following Jesus. He sensed that his basic work was completed and his role in God's plan had been fulfilled. He accepted all of this. He did not try to hold on to his disciples nor did he need to continue his previous work of preparing for the Messiah. He stepped back and let Jesus pro-claim his message, trusting that God was working through Jesus and through others. In a spirit of trust he lived his statement: "He must increase and I must decrease." Aging religious find themselves in the situation of John the Baptist. As they grow older many things are taken from them. As they diminish in body, mind, and spirit their influence in the world around them is lessened, and they are called upon to find God in these losses. Instead of emphasizing generosity as they did as a young religious, they are called to accept these dimin-ishments and even to rejoice in them. The total commitment to apostolic work of the young religious is set aside. Instead of giv-ing themselves more fully to apostolic involvement, aging reli-gious are called to withdraw from such involvements. Above all they are called to trust, to believe that as they decrease, Jesus increases. They are called to trust that their diminishment is part of God's way of furthering the kingdom. A spirituality of aging can take many different forms. Let me present a few of them. 214 Review for Religious 1. The spirituality of an old person should include a serious preparation for death. Death is not simply something that happens to us. It is one of the most important actions of our lives, for in death we go back to God. Such an important movement of our lives should be given due attention and concern. Just as in our younger lives we took the choice of our careers very seriously, so is death a similar crucial moment which deserves to be treated with similar seriousness and to be prepared for. The period of aging has been given to us by God as a time of intense preparation for death. It would be a mistake to be so busy with our work and other affairs that we give no time, thought, or effort to this approaching event in our lives. We may want to die with our boots on but such an attitude may possibly manifest a lack of faith. We are, of course, called by God to do our share of the work of building the kingdom. But our faith affirms that we are called by God to pass beyond ~his world to live with him in an eternal kingdom. It would be wrong in our present lives to be so occupied with the "God of this world" that we ignore that "God of the future" and the life that he calls us to. One way that we prepare for death is to begin to put things aside. Since in death we will be forced to leave our involvements in this world, a preparation would be to step back from these involvements, to become less absorbed in our concern for the achievement of goals and the attainment of success. Nature aids such stepping back from involvements. For an aging person the world often becomes rather "tasteless." The process of aging may not only reduce the sensitivity of our taste buds but also diminish our hunger for the activities and concerns of the world around us. We can find ourselves not caring which basketball team is the champion this year, which songs are the most popular, or who is the most popular movie star. When we were young such things made a difference, but as we grow older we find ourselves losing touch with these "popular" concerns. The tendency to lose touch need not be conceived as a sad thing, a loss. It is clearly the way nature guides us to turn away from unimportant things and to focus our lives on what is more Aging religious find themselves in the situation of John the Baptist. March-April 1993 215 Moga ¯ ~1 Spirituality of Aging essential--on the death that is coming, on the God we are soon to meet. Thus as we prepare for death we are challenged to free ourselves from all that is unimportant in life. In our journey through life we easily let ourselves get caught up in concerns, possessions, and habitual ways of thinking and being. How won-derful it would be if the contemplation of death could make us truly "free" of all these petty things so that we might live for what is truly important. Preparing for ~something means that we focus on it. The preparation for death demands a positive focus on that meeting with God which is found in death. Preparing for death thus invites us to turn toward God and give ourselves directly to God. Older religious shbuld be freed from apostolic involvements precisely so that they might have more time for prayer, more time for God. Every year we prepare to meet God in our celebration of Advent. During Advent we join with the people of the Old Covenant in their "waiting for God." We also join with Mary as she waits for her child to be born. During Advent we Christians give our energies to "waiting," to living out our waiting in a full and complete way. The lives of aging religious can embody this spirit of Advent and be filled with a "waiting for God." 2. A challenge to accept. One major characteristic of a spiritu-ality of aging is its emphasis on a person's acceptance of dimin-ishment. As we grow older various things are taken from us. There is a basic lessening of energies as we grow older. Vision and hear-ing begin to deteriorate. Health fails as we encounter various ill-nesses and pains. Control over one

Issue 34.2 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; 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 Q 1975 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 mgney order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to p~rsons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor March 1975 Volume 34 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 and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard.; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Typical Constitutions Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., a specialist in canon law for religious, is a member of the Jesuit Community at St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. INTRODUCTION 1. Plan. The purpose of the present work i~ to facilitate the writing of constitutions of congregations of sisters. It is in fact a typical set of con-stitutions and consists of three parts: I. Spiritual, which is a topical list of spiritual matters for the articles of the first and purely spiritual part of the con-stitutions. Legal norms and details are excluded from this part. 11. Legal, the more important legal articles of congregations of sisters, and these are to make up the second part of the constitutions. III. Statutes, which are not part of the constitutions. These consist of the lesser legal norms to which are to be appended the enactments of general chapters and the ordinances of superiors general. The present work is baled primarily on "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," Review for Religious, 25 (1966), 361-437, also ob-tainable as a reprint from Review for Religious; secondarily on "Proper Juridical Articles of Constitutions," ibid., 27 (1968), 623-32; and lastly on "Constitutions without Canons," ibid., 452-512, which also contains a hand-book of the canons that apply to congregations of sisters, 477-508. 2. Two parts in constitutions. The essential principle of this plan is not that the constitutions are divided into two parts but that the first part is purely spiritual and therefore does not contain legal norms or details, which are con-fined to the second part and to the statutes. The reason for following this prin-ciple is my experience, observation, and judgment that legal norms and details necessarily dry up the spiritual articles of constitutions. The Holy See ap-proved the constitutions of Visitation Nuns, effective from February 2, 1971, 191 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 which are divided into two books, one spiritual, the other legal. The same ap-proval had been given in the past to the constitutions of some orders of nuns, in which the canonical norms were appended to but did not form part of the con-stitutions. A juridical norm is to be accurate, clear, and as brief as possible. There are to be no superfluous words; every word is to mean something perti-nent. The result is a dry utterance, and it is evident that details are dry. Law and details have their necessary and proper place in the religious life. They are to be observed but this does not mean that they are to obstruct or to be con-fused with the spiritual. Ecclesiae sanctae (no. 14) states in effect that less stable, less general, and more detailed norms should not be part of the con-stitutions. 3. Canons should not be included in the constitutions unless this is necessary or counseled for the sense of the particular article of the con-stitutions. The constitutions are the proper law of the institute; canons and other matters of common law are the universal law of the Church. There will undoubtedly be translations of the new canon law into at least the principal vernacular languages. An analytical index or handbook of the canons that apply to congregations of sisters can be used by all congregations, and the ex-cessive number of legal articles that have been in the constitutions of each con-gregation can thereby be eliminated. As stated above, there is such a handbook of canons for congregations of sisters in Review for Religious, 27 (1968), 477- 508. 4. First and spiritual part of the constitutions. Typical topics for this first section are listed below. This section should consist of the broad, fundamental, spiritual, religious, human, and social principles of the religious life. The style should be in keeping with the dignity of the matter, motivating, and inspiring. It is to be well written but is not to be merely attractive spiritual reading nor mere narration or information. It is to lead to action, as is the second part of the constitutions and the statutes; it is a rule of life and conduct, and it is in this most important aspect that the style of current experimental constitutions is defective (Review for Religious, 33 (1974), 378-9). This section is not to be a manual of spiritual theology; it gives the more general and fundamental motivation and spirituality of the Church and of the institute. The spiritual sec-tion does not free from but presumes and demands the constant prayerful study of Sacred Scripture, the teaching of the Church on spiritual, theology and the religious life, spiritual theology itself, and other sound spiritual words (ibid.). Obviously the spiritual section should be solid and not filled in with unreal or unsubstantial motivation or spirituality. Especially for this section, the follow-ing footnotes in the article, "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregat!ons," can be consulted. These contain a listing of other articles, particularly those of spiritual content, ,often found in chapters of constitutions in the past. These footnoteg are nos. 5, 16, 19, 22, 27-9, 32, 36, 40-1, 43-6, 71-2, 74, 90, 93, and 95. From this same article, the following articles should be in the first and spiritual section of the constitutions: 1-2, the general and special Typical Constitutions / 193 purpose; 82, 94-5, the definitions of the essential religious vows; and no. 93, the law of common life in relation to poverty. 5. Second and legal section of the constitutions. This is composed in greater part of the determinations of matters left undetermined in canon law and also of articles over and above canon law. By reason of canon 572, par. 1, no. 6, the vows must be received by the legitimate superior according to the constitutions. The constitutions therefore must determine who is the legitimate superior in this matter. Canon law says nothing on the age required for elected general officials nor for local superiors. The practice of the Holy See in ap-proving the constitutions of pontifical congregations commonly demanded thirty-five years of age for such officials and thirty for local superiors. These are consequently articles over and above canon law. The more important and broader legal articles are to be in this section, those of lesser moment and less general in the statutes. Headings are put at the beginning of many articles in these two sections that the reader may see at a glance and reflect on the topics to be in the second and juridical part of the constitutions and in the statutes and also to note the general difference of the topics in these two sections. These headings therefore do not have to be retained in the constitutions. The order of the matters or articles in none of the three sections will necessarily be the same in all congregations. However, it is recommended to follow the same order in this second section and in the statutes for facility of use. Other articles of like import may be added to any of the three sections. In the juridical part of the constitutions and in the statutes, more important additions should be put in the former, the less important, less general, less stable in the latter. This legal sec-tion and the statutes have especially been based on the three articles mentioned in no. 1 above. In the article, "Proper Juridical Articles of the Constitutions," the following explanatory footnotes can be ~sefully consulted: Nos. 2, 4, ad-mission to and dismissal from the postulancy; 3, prolongation of the postulan-cy; 5, admission to the noviceship; 8, dismissal of a novice; 9, prolongation of the noviceship; 10, admission to profession; 11, anticipation of renewal of tem-porary vows; 12, exclusion from profession; and 13-5, dismissal. Articles 86, 101-2 of this section may be omitted, and 58 transferred to the statutes. 6. Statutes, which are not part of the constitutions. It is to be emphasized that this section is not part of the constitutions. Therefore, it does not demand the approval of the Holy See nor of the local ordinaries in the case of diocesan congregations. Consequently, it may be changed by the institute itself, unless the matter is one of common law, as the custom book is now changed by the in-stitute. This section is to contain the norms that are less important, less general, less permanent, more procedural than .substantial, more office and job profiles and descriptions than norms on the religious life (Ecclesiae sanctae, no. 14). Articles 3, 10, 19, 21, 23-4, 29, 33, 41, 43, 88, and 95-6 of this section may be omitted. The enactments of general chapters and the ordinances of superiors general should be placed at the end of this section. For this reaspn it can be more efficient and economical to print this section as a separate and less expensive booklet. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume34, 1975/2 7. Bibliography. In addition to the articles mentioned in no. 1 above, the following questions and answers and articles in Review for Religious will be helpful: "Too Much Canon Law in Constitutions," 15 (1956), 220-1; "The Constitutions," 19 (1960), 323-67; "Differences in Constitutions of Sisters and Brothers," 26 (1967), 507-16; "Differences of Law between Pontifical and Diocesan Lay Congregations,"' 27 (1968), 289-307; "Omission of Canons from Constitutions," ibid, 1144; "Postconciliar Norms on the Revision of the Constitutions," ibid., 1145-7; "Votes Required for a Revision of the Constitutions," ibid., 752-7; "Canon Law for Religious after Vatican II," 31 (1972), 949-66; 32 (1973), 1273-87; 34 (1975), 50-70; "Revision of the Constitutions," 33 (1974), 376-85. 8. Exclusion of added notes. It had been my intention to add some ex-planatory notes, but I later felt that this would only encumber an article that was already very long. It is sufficient to note that the duration of the postulan-cy, noviceship, and temporary profession is that which 1 consider the best. Provincial superiors and officials may also be elected in the provincial chapter. Finally, the directress of novices and her assistant do not have to be designated for any determined duration of office. 9. Based on the practice of the Holy See. The legal section of the con-stitutions and the statutes have been presented with the practice of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in approving constitutions always in mind. However, at times I have proposed suggestions of my own, for example, in art. II, 31, 59, and 115 of the legal section and art. 60 of the statutes. 10. General chapter retained as now. I found the place and manner of presenting the general chapter difficult to decide. I finally concluded that the best place was at the end of the legal section of the constitutions, with the norms of common law retained as now. PART I. SPIRITUAL The spiritual section, as here given, is composed simply of a list of the headings that should be developed in it. One important reason for this plan is to give full possibility for the expression of the distinctive character of a religious institute, which cannot be readily actuated in the legal section. As stated in the introduction, this part should consist of the broad, fundamental, spiritual, religious, human, and social principles of the religious life. It should give the more general .and fundamental motivation and spirituality of the Church and of the institute. Other topics may be added but they should fall within the principles just given. I. Divine vocation. The invitation of the Holy Spirit is manifested in the interior illumination and inspiration of the personal, close, and especially the total love of our Lord for you. 1 Jn 4:9-11, 19; PC, no. 6. 2. Response. Your response was to accept a life of personal, close and es-pecially of total love for our Lord. Col 3:14; Rom 13:10; I Cot 13:!3; Eph 3: 17-8; LG, nn. 39-40, 44; GES, no. 24; PC, nos. 5, 11. Typical Constitutions 3. Baptismal consecration. Relation of this invitation, response, and acceptance by God to baptism, or baptismal consecration, as the sacrament of regeneration and initiation. PC, no. 5. 4. Spirit and charism of the founder or foundress. 5. Relation of Rule, constitutions, and all law for religious to this invitation-response or consecration. PC, no. 2; Review for Religious, 33 (1974), 381. 6. Invitation to perfection is to the perfection of love or better still to a love that is personal, close, and especially total of our Lord and of all mankind for Him. 7. Perfect love will be attained completely only in the eternal possession of God in the beatific vision. From this it follows that life on earth must be similarly supernatural and be lived with sufficient understanding and con-sciousness of the Indwelling of the Trinity, of sanctifying grace as the par-' ticipation in the divine nature, as adoption into the family of God, of the in-fused virtues, the predominance of the supernatural virtue of charity, of the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the illumination and inspiration of the Holy Spirit, and of the relation of these to the Mystical Body, the vine and the branches, and the sacraments. I Cor 3:16-7; Jn 14:23; 2 Pt 1:4; 1 .In 3:1; Rom 8:17; Gai 4:4-6; Eph 1:4-6; Rom 8:28-30. 8. Our Lord is the ideal. However, we do not so much imitate as live Him, by growing through love and in proportion to its degree into His way of think-ing, loving, and desiring, and thus in any circumstances doing what He would do. This is the source, the living, that Vatican II emphasized in its effect of witnessing to Christ. Phil 2:5. 9. The outstanding fact of the consciousness of our Lord was that He was the Son of God. Ours should be a like consciousness of being a daughter or son of the Father, the younger sister or brother of our Lord, and under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. This should be a result of the conviction of the divine adoption. 10. Difference from the lay life is in the means to the end. Mt 5:48; 1 Thes 4:3; Eph 1:4; I Pt 1:4-6; LG, no. 11, 39, 42. 11. The purpose of the essential means, the evangelical counsels, is to con-trol the principal obstacles to the perfect lore'of God. LG, no. 44-6; Letter of the Papal Secretary of State, July 13, 1952, Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest, 4, 96. (a) Chastity. 1 Cor 7:32-8; LG, n. 42; Pius XII, Courtois, The States of Perfection, nn. 505-505a. (b) Poverty. Mt 19:23 ff.; 13:22; Lk 12:34; 12:23. (c) Obedience. Rom 5:!9;.Phil 2:8. 12. Religious life is ecclesial. The religious life is ecclesial because it is part of the function of the Church to promote the intensely universal and total love of Christ, which is what religious are primarily to live, and this is what they are primarily mandated to live by ~he approval of the Church of their institute and its Rule and constitutions; Vatican II places the religious life in the Dogmatic 796 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 Constitution on the Church; canon law makes religious life a distinct class of persons in the Church, with juridical existence and distinctive rights and obligations; the Church in approving the apostolic nature and constitutions of an apostolic religious institute gives its members a mandate to go forth as its apostles; in the religious life should be found primarily the sanctity that is the note or guide to the true Church; the Church interprets authentically the evangelical counsels, regulates their practice, establishes states of perfection, approves Rules and constitutions, and guides and watches over religious in-stitutes that they may remain faithful to the spirit of their founders. LG, nos. 43-5. 13. Necessity of all three evangelical counsels. Leo XIII, Plus XI, Plus XII, Paul VI, Vatican II. Courtois, ibid., nos. 33, 130, 403; Bouscaren- O'Connor, ibid., 6, 427; LG, no. 44. 14. Mass, Eucharist. The Eucharist as the center of the life and day of the religious; counsel of due devotion to the Real Presence. 15. Liturgy. The liturgical spirit should be progressive according to the norms of the Church, markedly interior, adult, restrained rather than distinc-tively emotional, and not prominently characterized by a love of novelty and change. 16. Devotions. The spiritual life of a religious should not be mere devotionalism, but devotions and practices approved by the Church should be neither excluded nor discouraged. 17. Blessed Virgin. The institute and its constitutions should necessarily emphasize the Blessed Virgin Mary in her relation to our Lord~ redemption, the Church, and to the sanctification, community life, and apostolate of the members. 18. Sacred Scripture. The reading and study of Sacred Scripture should be encouraged primarily in relation to and for the spiritual life. 19. Prayer. The broad principles of prayer and its place in the religious life should be given. Liturgical prayer does not exclude personal prayer. There should be a prescription of at least a half hour of daily mental prayer. Lk 5:16; 6:12; 9:18; 11:1. 20. Community life. Its pui, poses are: strength and perseverance to live the religious consecration by living with others of the same consecration; help in the apostolate and professional aspect of life; to enable the religious to develop socially and to have a socially satisfactory life. Anything is to be avoided that would fragment the congregation or that would factually eliminate or lower community life. 21. Apostolate. The mission of the Church must be a continuation of that of our Lord, and that of a religious institute must be to be a part of the aposto-late or mission of the Church. The primary purpose of redemption was the com-munication of divine life, and thus the essential apostolate of a religious in-stitute is that its members be an instrument, even if remote, in the communica-tion, intensification, and retention of divine life. The work should also be such as to help the union of the religious with God. The apostolic works are com- Typical Constitutions / 1117 munity works, not, outside of a rare exception, to be merely an individual work. There should be a special love and dedication to work for the poor, the neglected, the handicapped, the unfortunate, and the disadvantaged. The religious life is not mere natural development nor an apostolate of mere social work and action (GES, no. 42). All secularization of life or work must be avoided. 22. Formation. The broad spiritual, educational, professional, human, and social aspects of formation should be given in this section. 23. Cloister, Silence. In some institutes more contact with seculars should be encouraged than in the past, but cloister should be observed and the house should never lose the atmosphere of a religious house. The members of a com-munity should have the assurance of reasonable privacy. Religious silence is an aid to prayer and to an interior life, not mere politeness. 24. Mortification. The tendency to self and sin within us demands morti-fication. This must always be voluntary but much more passive than active mortification. Not everything in the Christian life is positive but nothing is purely negative. Mortification, renunciation, abnegation have as their purpose an intensification in virtue, which is always lived personally in Christ, and es-pecially in the supernatural virtue of charity. 25. Ecumenical spirit. 26. Religious and the modern world. The relation of religious to the tem-poral world should be included and based on the Constitution on the Church in. the Modern World of Vatican II. 27. The broad principles on at least several of the following should be in this part of the constitutions: suitability of candidates, pre-entrance guidance, postulancy, noviceship, juniorate, religious habit, profession, the sacrament of penance, religious exercises, correspondence, suffrages for the dead, retirement and care of the aged, sick and infirm, government, general and provincial chapters, superior general, other superiors, councilors, treasurers, directresses of postulants, novices, and junior professed, provinces, regions, houses, the Rule, and the constitutions. PART II. LEGAL I. General purpose. The Sisters of. are a pontifical (diocesan) congregation whose general purpose is the response of a personal, close, and particularly total love of our Lord and of all men and women for Him in a supernatural life that is a filial love of the Father, an intimate participation in the divine life, and whose primary and universal norm is the person Christ, un-der the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. It is a life mandated and guided by the Church, and by the charism and spirit of their own congregation. These are supplemented by the laws of the Church and of their own congregation. The sisters profess .the simple vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience, which are an essential means to the attainment and intensification of this love. 2. Special purpose. (For example:) In their special purpose, the sisters, mandated by the Church as its apostles, are essentially to be an instrument of 198 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 God in the communication, preservation, and intensification of the same divine life in others. This they do through their life and work as Christian educators and nurses in hospitals. 3. Authorization necessary for a change in the special purpose or in the particular works. Without the permission of the Holy See the special purpose may not be changed, nor may works not included in it be added in a general and permanent manner. 4. Change in the habit. No permanent, substantial, or general change in the form or color of the habit may be made without the permission of the Holy See. 5. Right to admit to the postulancy. The right to admit an applicant to the postulancy belongs to the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior), who has also the right to dismiss her if she is judged unfit for the life of the congregation. A postulant has full liberty to leave the congregation. 6. Right to admit to the noviceship. The right to admit to the noviceship appertains to the superior general (higher superior) with the consent of her council. 7. Duration of the noviceship. The duration of the noviceship is two years. The added year is not required for the validity of profession, and the superior general with the advice of her council may dispense from it wholly or in part. 8. Dismissal of a novice. For any just reason a novice may be dismissed by the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher or provincial superior) with the advice of her council. 9. Prolongation of the noviceship. If the st~itability of a novice is doubtful, the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher superior) with the advice of her council may prolong the time of her noviceship but not beyond six months. 10. Religious profession. Upon completion of the noviceship and in the novitiate house, the novice shall make profession of simple vows or other com-mitment for three (two) years. At the end of this period the sister shall renew her vows for two (three) years. The superior general (provincial congregation: provincial or higher superior) may prolong the prescribed period of temporary profession but not beyond a year, in which case the sister must renew her tem-porary profession. OR: . . . the novice shall make profession of simple vows for one year. This profession is to be renewed annually until five full years of temporary vows are completed. The superior general . . . OR:. Upon the completion of the noviceship and in the novitiate house, the novice shall make profession of simple vows for three years or until the com-pletion of her twenty-first year, if a longer time is necessary to attain the age prescribed for perpetual profession. The superior general., may prolong the prescribed time of temporary profession, but not beyond a second term of three years, in which case the sister must renew her temporary profession. The right to admit to first profession, renewal and prolongation of tem-porary vows, and perpetual profession appertains to the superior general with Typical Constitutions / 199 the vote of her council. This vote shall be deliberative for the first temporary profession but only consultative for the renewal and prolongation of temporary vows and perpetual profession. (Provincial congregation:) The right to admit to first profession, prolonga-tion of temporary vows, and perpetual profession appertains to the superior general with the vote of her council. This vote shall be deliberative for the first temporary profession but only consultative for prolongation of temporary vows and perpetual profession. The provincial superior presents the requests for admission to the superior general, with the deliberative vote of her council for first profession and the consultative vote for prolongation of temporary vows and for perpetual profession. The right to admit to renewals of temporary vows appertains to ttie provincial superior w~th the consultative vote of her council. 11. For the validity of any profession, the following is necessary in addition to the other requisites stated in canons 572-3: that the profession be received by the superior general or a sister delegated by her. (Provincial, regional, and) Local superiors and their legitimate substitutes are delegated by the con-stitutions to receive all professions in their (provinces, regions, and) houses and with power also to subdelegate. The added period of two years is not necessary for the validity of the perpetual profession, and the superior general with the advice of her council may dispense from it wholly or in part. 12. The following is the formula of profession: 13. Obedience. The sisters are bound to obey by reason of the vow only when lawful superiors command expressly in virtue of holy obedience or in equivalent words. 14. Superiors shall rarely, prudently, and cautiously command in virtue of holy obedience and only for a grave reason. It is expedient that a formal precept be given in writing or at least in the presence of two witnesses. 15. Local superiors, especially of small houses, shall not give commands in virtue of holy obedience except in grave and urgent cases, and they should then immediately notify the superior general (provincial congregation: provincial superior). 16. The sisters are obliged by the virtue of obedience to fulfill the prescrip-tions of the constitutions, statutes, and other orders of superiors. 17. Supreme authority. Supreme internal authority is exercised ordinarily by the superior general assisted by her council and extraordinarily by the legitimately assembled general chapter. 18. Authority of the superior general. A serious reason and the deliberative vote of her council are required for the superior general (a higher or regional superior) to transfer or remove a superior or official before the expiration of a prescribed term of office. Unless otherwise specified, officials may be reap-pointed indefinitely. With the consent of her council, the superior general may prolong the term of office of (provincial, regional, and) local superiors when this is necessary. 200 / Review for Religious, l/olurne 34, 1975/2 19. The superior general has the right to transfer the sisters from one house to another and to assign their duties. 20. Provincial congregation. The congregation is divided into provinces. The original establishment and the total suppression of all existing provinces are reserved to the Holy See. All other establishment, modification, and sup-pression of provinces appertain to the superior general with the consent of her council and to the general chapter. Transfer to another province. Only the superior general with the advice of her council and ordinarily after consulting the interested, provincials may per-manently transfer a sister from one province to another. 21. The superior general shall prudently direct and supervise the ad-ministration of the temporal goods of the congregation and of each (province, region, and) house in accordance with the prescriptions of canon law, the con-stitutions, and statutes. 22. The superior general may not appoint a vicar and delegate powers to her nor may she grant a sister active or passive voice or deprive her of it. 23. If it should ever seem necessary to remove the superior general from of-rice, the general council must submit the matter to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (diocesan: the ordinary of the residence of the superior general). If the superior general thinks it her duty to resign her of-fice outside the time of the sessions of any general chapter, she shall in writing make known her reasons to the same Congregation (diocesan: same ordinary). During the time of any general chapter, even if only of affairs, the superior general shall present her resignation and reasons to the chapter, which is com-petent to accept it, elect her successor and also other elective general officials. 24. Canonical visitation. The superior general shall make the visitation of the entire congregation at least every three years (at least once during her term of office). She shall see that the houses immediately subject to her are visited every year. The provincial superior shall make the visitation of all the houses of her province once a year, and the same frequency of visitation of a region shall be observed by the regional superior. Both may omit this visitation in the year of the visitation by the superior general. Should the higher or regional superior be lawfully prevented from making the visitation, another sister is to be delegated for this purpose. 25. The superior general may designate a visitor for an individual (province or) house or for a particular matter; (the provincial and regional superiors m~.y do the same for an indi~,idual house or a particular matter;) but to appoint a visitor for the entire congregation (in the case of a provincial or regional superior, for the ei~tire province or region), the consent of the perti-nent council must be obtained. The visitor must be a sister of perpetual vows. 26. The purpose of the visitation is to strengthen union and charity, to in-quire into the government and administration of the (province, region, and) house as also into the fulfillment of the obligations of the religious life; to cor-rect prevalent abuses, and to give occasion to each sister to speak freely on matters that concern her personal welfare or the general good. The (Provincial, Typical Constitutions / 201 regional, and) local superiors retain the usual exercise of their office during the visitation. 27. Councilors. The general council is composed of the four general coun-cilors. The superior general, although she presides and votes in the council, is not a member of the general council. She places all acts in her own name, even in matters that require the consent or advice of the council, since she alone possesses the authority to govern the congregation. 28. Although the superior general has the right of acting completely un-assisted except in matters reserved to higher authorities or that by law demand the consent or advice of the general council, yet she is earnestly counseled to seek the advice of her council also in other important matters. 29. The duty of the councilors is to give advice and assistance to the superior general in matters of government and administration, to cast a deliberative or consultative vote according to canon law, the constitutions and statutes, and to propose whatever they think is to the best interest of the con-gregation. 30. The councilors are bound to secrecy concerning all matters discussed in the sessions, as well as those confided to them by reason of their office. If a councilor violates this secrecy, she shall be admonished by the superior general. If she repeatedly violates it, she shall be corrected according to the gravity of her fault. 31. If a general councilor or elected general official dies, resigns, becomes incapable of fulfilling her duties regularly, or is deposed, the superior general with the consent of her council shall replace her by a sister having the requisite qualities, who shall hold office until the next general chapter. No general coun-cilor or official may resign her office or be removed except for a serious reason, accepted as such by the superior general with the consent of her council. 32. The assistant and vicar takes the place of the superior general when the latter is absent or when for any reason whatever is unable to exercise her office. 33. Although the superior general alone has the right to convoke the general council, when she is ill, absent, or otherwise impeded, the assistant con-venes and presides over the council. 34. When acting in her representative capacity, the assistant shall issue only such directions as are required for ordinary government and cannot be deferred; and then as far as possible she shall act according to the presumed will of the superior general. 35. At the death, resignation, or legitimate ~emovai from office of the superior general, the vicar shall assume the government of the congregation with full power and equal rights. She shall continue in this office until the elec-tion of the superior general at the next chapter, to be convoked according to art. 67. 36. In the absence or disability of the assistant, the councilor next in precedence and so on in succession shall act as the representative of the superior general. 37. Administration of temporal goods. Not only the congregation but also 202 / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/2 each (province and) house is capable of acquiring, possessing, and ad-ministering temporal property. 38. Provincialsuperior. Each province is governed by a provincial superior who like the superior general is a higher superior. The provincial superior is ap-pointed by the superior general with the consent of her council for a term of three years. She may be reappointed for a second but not for a third immediate term in the same province. She continues to govern the province until the arrival of her successor. 39. The primary duty of the provincial superior is to govern the whole province so as to promote the common and individual good. She must be an example of religious life, distinguished for her virtue and practical judgment, devoted to the interests of the sisters, loyal to the supreme authority in the con-gregation, and obedient to ecclesiastical directives. She is to be thoroughly convinced that on her administration depends the well-being of the province. 40. The provincial superior has the right: (a) To govern the whole.province in accordance with the constitutions and statutes, with the exception of matters reserved to higher authorities; (b) To give commands and make regulations in conformity with the con-stitutions and statutes; (c) To admit candidates to the postulancy; (d) To grant the sisters the necessary permissions for studies, travel, visits, and similar matters according to the established regulations; (e) To encourage and initiate good works. 41. It is the duty of the provincial superior: (a) To exercise supervision over the observance of the constitutions, statutes, and all obligations of the religious life; (b) To make the visitation of the houses in conformity with art. 24 and to submit a report of her visitation to the superior general; (c) To advise and direct local superiors in their activities; (d) To present, with her recommendations, matters submitted by local superiors that require recourse to the superior general; (e) To examine the financial statements of the houses and to make the financial reports of the province; (f) To examine the annual personnel and disciplinary reports of the local superiors and forward copies of these, along with her own report, to the superior general. 42. In extraordinary and difficult matters, the provincial superior should consult the superior general. If the urgency of the case makes this impossible, she should later inform the superior general of the matter. 43. The four (two) provincial councilors constitute the provincial council in the same way as was stated for the general council. One of the councilors shall be designated as assistant and vicar and shall take the place of the provincial superior when the latter is absent or otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of her offices, unless the superior general with the consent of her council has appointed another sister as acting provincial. In the event of the death or Typical Constitutions / 203 removal from office of the provincial superior, the vicar shall assume with full powers and equal rights the government of the province until the newly ap-pointed provincial assumes office or until the arrival of an acting provincial ap-pointed in the same way by the superior general. In other respects the assistant shall observe the norms established in art. 32-6. The provincial councilors, secretary, and treasurer are appointed on the recommendation of the provincial superior by the superior general with the consent of her council; they must be at least thirty years of age and of perpetual vows. The provincial secretary and treasurer may be councilors but not the provincial assistant. 44. The norms of statutes nos. 60-87 apply with due distinctions to the provincial council and councilors and the provincial secretary and treasurer. 45. Regions. Because of their distance from the motherhouse or other proportionate reasons, houses that cannot as yet be united into a province may be grouped into regions, which are not distinct moral persons. The establish-ment, change, and suppression of regions appertain to the superior general with the consent of her council. 46. Regions are governed by regional superiors who in almost all respects have the rights and duties of provincials. Their authority is delegated by the superior general but, unless an express restriction is made or is to be un-derstood from the nature of the matter, this delegation contains all the authority possessed by provincials. The regional superiors are consequently to be guided in general by the articles of the constitutions and statutes on provinces, the provincial superior, and the provincial officials. 47. By the law of the constitutions and for her lawful appointment as regional superior, a sister must possess the qualities required by common law for provincials. The articles of the constitutions on the manner of appointment, term of office, reappointment, removal from office, and relation of the provin-cial superior to the superior general all apply also to the regional superior. 48. The regional superior is assisted by two councilors and, if it seems necessary or opportune, by a secretary and treasurer, all appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council. These sisters must be professed of perpetual vows. One of the councilors shall be designated as regional assistant and vicar. With due distinctions, nos, 60-87 of the statutes, and art. 43 above apply to the regional council, councilors, and the regional secretary and treasurer. 49. Houses. For the erection of a house, the superior general must have the consent of her council and the written consent of the local ordinary. The con-sent of both is also necessary for the suppression of a house,, which likewise appertains to the superior general. (~Diocesan:) For the erection of a house, the superior general must have the consent of her council and the written consent of the local ordinary. The suppression of a house appertains to the local or-dinary after having consulted the superior general. The latter must have the consent of her council for requesting or agreeing to a suppression. 50. Local superiors. Every house, including the motherhouse, shall be 204 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 governed by a local superior, who is appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council for a term of three years. She may be appointed for a second but not immediately for a third term in the same house. The local superior must have completed her thirtieth year and be professed of perpetual vows. She continues to govern the house until the arrival of her successor. 51. The local superior possesses the authority that canon law, the con-stitutions, and the statutes assign to her and has the right to govern the house in all matters not reserved to higher authorities. 52. The superior shall devote herself with generosity and perseverance to the education and formation of the younger sisters, particularly those of tem-porary vows. 53. Directress of novices. The formation of the novices is entrusted to the directress of novices who must be professed of perpetual vows and at least thirty years of age. 54. Obligation, change, and interpretation of the constitutions and statutes. The (Rule), con~stitutions and statutes do not of themselves bind under sin but only under the penalty imposed for their infraction, unless the violation concerns the vows, or divine or ecclesiastical laws, arises from a sinful motive, or gives scandal. 55. Superiors are bound to admonish the sisters and to impose penances for violations of the constitutions and statute's. The sisters are obliged to accept the corrections and to perform the penances. 56. The superior general may interpret authentically also the statutes and the ordinances of the general chapter, but the Holy See alone can authentically interpret and change the constitutions. In a doubt about some particular point, the general chapter, as also the superior general with the advice of her council, may give a practical interpretation of the matter and the sisters are obliged to follow this interpretation. (Diocesan:) The superior general may interpret authentically also the statutes and the ordinances of the general chapter, but the constitutions may be neither authentically interpreted nor changed without the unanimous consent of the ordinaries of the dioceses in Which the congrega-tion has houses. In a doubt . . . 57. Changes in the constitutions may not be made without serious reasons. Any change must be first discussed in the general chapter, and if it obtains at least two-thirds of the votes, it shall be submitted to the Holy See (diocesan: local ordinaries) for a decision. 58. A complete copy of the constitutions shall be given to every sister at the beginning of the noviceship that she may study and earnestly strive to observe them. 59. Dispensation. No superior of the congregation, without an express con-cession from competent authority, may dispense from the laws of the Church or the decrees of the Holy See. 60. For a determined time and a proportionate reason, the superior general may dispense individual sisters, a house, province, region, or the entire con-gregation from a merely disciplinary article also of the constitutions. A provin- Typical Constitutions / 205 cial and a regional superior have the same power for their sisters, houses, province, or region, and a local superior for her sisters and house. The direc-tress of novices has the same power as a local superior but only with regard to the novices and the novitiate. 61. All superiors may dispense themselves in those matters in which they may lawfully dispense others. GENERAL CHAPTER 1. Convocation and members 62. The general chapter must be convoked as often as general elections are necessary. The ordinary convocation takes place every sixth (fifth, fourth) year at the expiration of the term of office of the superior general and on her death, resignation, or deposition. 63. (Pontifical:) To convoke the chapter for any reason other than those specified above, the permission of the Holy See is required in addition to the consent of the general council. (Diocesan:) To convoke the chapter for any reason other than those specified above, the superior general must have the consent of her council. 64. The chapter must be convoked by the superior general at least six (three, a year) months before the day fixed for its assembly. In the letter of convocation, the date and place of the chapter shall be designated, and the prayers to be said for the success of the chapter shall be prescribed. The place of the chapter shall be determined by the superior general with the consent of her council. 65. Before the convocation, the superior general must inform the ordinary of the diocese in which the chapter will convene of the date of the election of the superior general, that he may preside either personally or by delegate at this election. 66. The meeting of the chapter may be anticipated or deferred for an im-portant reason, but not more than three (six) months in either case. 67. In the event of the death, resignation, or deposition of the superior general, the chapter must be convoked by the vicar as soon as possible, so that the assembly of the chapter will not be postporied more than six (three, a year) months after the vacancy of the office. 68. The members of the chapter are: (a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f) (g) -- or (g) The superior general The four general councilors The secretary general The treasurer general Former superiors general The provincial superiors delegates elected by each province The regional superiors 206 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 The delegates elected by (the regions and) the sisters according to art. or (g) Forty (or other number) delegates elected by the sisters. 69. The superior general and elective general officials continue as members of the assembled chapter even though at the elections other sisters have succeeded them in office. 70. The superior general with the consent of her council may summon other sisters to assist in the clerical and similar work of the chapter. She may in the same manner invite such sisters and externs to present and discuss questions with the chapter. None of these are permitted to vote. 71. The chapter elects the superior general, general councilors, secretary general, treasurer general, and treats of the more important affairs that con-cern the entire congregation. 2. General norms to be observed in elections 72. The tellers elected for the general chapter must take an oath to perform their duty faithfully and to keep secret the proceedings of the chapter even after the elections are completed. All the capitulars are likewise bound to secrecy: The places of the tellers and secretary shall be near the president. 73. The tellers are to take care that the ballots are cast by each elector secretly, individually, and in order of precedence. The secretary draws up ac-curately the proceedings of the chapter, which shall be signed by the president, the tellers, and the secretary herself. These are to be preserved in the archives of the congregation. 74. Two-thirds of the capitulars must be present for the validity of the acts of the general (and provincial) chapter, but all must be convoked. 75. Even though a sister may have the right to vote in her own name under several titles, she may nevertheless cast but one vote. 76. The capitulars must be present in person at the election. No one may validly vote by letter or by proxy, lfa capitular in the house where the election is being held cannot be present at the election because of illness, her written vote sh"all be collected by the tellers in a sealed envelope. 77. If a capitular believes that she cannot attend the general (or provincial) chapter on account of sickness or for some other serious reason, she is to in-form the superior general (or provincial superior), who shall decide with the consent of her council whether the capitular should be excused and her sub-stitute summoned. 78. All the sisters, whether capitulars or not, are forbidden to procure votes directly or indirectly for themselves or others. Prudent consultation regarding the qualities of those eligible is permitted within the bounds of justice and charity. 79. Each of the electors shall write on her ballot the name of the sister for whom she votes, fold the ballot, and drop it in the ballot box placed before the president. 80. When all the ballots have been cast, the tellers shall first count the Typical Constitutions / 207 folded ballots in the presence of the president and the electors to ascertain whether the number of ballots corresponds to the number of electors. If the number of ballots exceeds the number of electors, the balloting is null and void. Otherwise they shall proceed to the inspection of the ballots. 81. The ballots are then opened and examined. They are read first by the senior teller, who in an audible voice shall make known the name on each ballot, then by the president and lastly by the junior teller. The votes must be recorded by the secretary. At the end of each balloting, the president must an-nounce the names of all sisters voted for and the number of votes given to each. 82. No sister may validly vote for herself. A vote is also null and void: (a) If given by one who is incapable of a human act or has by law been deprived of active voice; (b) If it is not given freely. Consequently a vote is invalid if an elector is forced directly or indirectly by grave fear or fraud to elect a specified sister or one or the other among several specified sisters; (c) If it is not secret, certain, absolute, and determined; (d) If it is blank or for an ineligible person. 83. Even if one or more votes are null and void, the election is valid provided the one elected received the number of valid votes required by the constitutions. 84. Unless otherwise prescribed for a particular election, all elections shall be decided by an absolute majority of secret votes, that is, a number which ex-ceeds half the number of valid votes cast; but if after two ballotings no one has received an absolute majority, a third and last balloting will be held, in which a relative majority decides. In an equality of votes among several candidates in this third balloting, the senior by first profession is elected; if the sisters made their first profession on the same day, the senior~by age is elected. This same norm shall resolve an equality of votes on the only, limiting, or decisive balloting of any election. 85. After the required number of votes has been obtained, the president shall declare the election legitimately made and announce the name of the sister elected. This proclamation of the newly elected superior general ter-minates the duties of the presiding local ordinary. 86. All sisters are obliged to accept any office to which they have been elected. 87. The ballots must be burned by the tellers after each session. 88. Ira sister elected as superior general or general official is not present at the chapter, she is to be summoned immediately; but the sessions of the chapter are suspended only in the former case. 89. The office of the superior general and of the elected general officials always terminates at the election of their successors. 3. Election of delegates 90. All sisters, including those of temporary vows or other commitment, have active voice in the election of delegates to the general (provincial) chapter. 208 / Review for Religious, l/olurne 34, 1975/2 Only sisters of perpetual vows, unless members of the chapter in virtue of any office, have passive voice. OR: Only sisters of perpetual vows have active and, unless members of the chapter in virtue of any office, also passive voice in the election of delegates to the general (provincial) chapter. 91. The superior general (provincial) shall publish a list accessible to all the electors, compiled with the consent of her council, of all the sisters of passive voice. 92. In each house on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the electors shall assemble under the direction of their local superior. Each shall elect by secret ballot forty (or other number) sisters. 93. The local superior shall collect all the ballots without inspecting them and enclose them with her own ballot in an envelope, which she shall seal in the presence of the electors. She shall write on this inner envelope, "Election of Delegates, house N . " and forward it immediately to the superior general (provincial). 94. As soon as possible after all the envelopes have been received, the superior general (provincial) and her council shall open the envelopes and count the votes of this first balloting. The secretary general (provincial) shall record the votes. All sisters who received an absolute majority are elected. A report of the first balloting containing a declaration of those elected, the number remaining to be elected in the second balloting, and a list of the sisters voted for and the number of votes each received will be published to all the houses as soon as possible. 95. A second voting with the same procedure will be held in all the houses on the day appointed by the superior general (provincial). A relative majority is decisive in this second balloting. The substitutes are in order the sisters who received the next highest number of votes after those elected in the second balloting. The superior general (provincial) shall immediately inform the con-gregation (province) of the complete results. OR: ,90. As 90 above. 91. The superior general (provincial) shall publish a list accessible to all the electors, compiled with the consent of her council, of all the sisters of passive voice divided into three groups as equal as possible in number according to precedence from first profession. 92. In each house on the day determined in the letter of convocation, the electors shall assemble under the direction of their local superior. Each shall elect by secret vote ten sisters from each group and a fourth ten from any or all groups and in any proportion. 93. As 93 above. 94. As soon as possible after all the envelopes have been received, the superior general (provincial) and her council shall open the envelopes and count the votes of this first balloting. The secretary general (provincial) shall record the votes. All sisters who received an absolute majority are elected. A Typical Constitutions / 209 report of the first balloting containing a declaration of those elected, the number remaining to be elected from each group in the second balloting, and a list of the sisters voted for and the number of votes each received will be published to all the houses as soon as possible. 95. A second voting with the same procedure will be held in all the houses on the day appointed by the superior general (provincial). A relative majority is decisive in this second balloting. The substitutes are in order the sisters of each group who received the next highest number of votes in the second balloting after those elected. The superior general (provincial) shall im-mediately inform the congregation (province) of the complete results. 96. (Provincial congregation) Houses immediately subject to the superior general elect two delegates, superiors or subjects, of perpetual vows who are - not members of the chapter in virtue of any office, to the general chapter. The voting is carried out and the votes forwarded to the superior general according to the norms of art. 92-5. 4. Provincial chapter a. Convocation and members 97. The provincial chapter is to be convened as often as a general chapter is to be held .and at least three (six, a year) months before the date of the assembly of the latter. The provincial superior is the president of the chapter, and its principal purpose is to elect the delegates to the general chapter. The provincial shall convoke the provincial chapter at a date sufficient for the proper prechapter preparation for both the provincial and general chapters. 98. The members of the chapter are: (a) The provincial superior (b) The four (two) provincial councilors (c) The provincial secretary (d) The provincial treasurer (e) The delegates as described in nn. 90-5 b. Sessions 99. The chapter shall immediately elect from among the capitulars by a relative majority of secret votes the two tellers and in the same way, in a dis-tinct balloting, the secretary of the chapter. The tellers for these elections shall be the two junior capitulars by first profession, and the secretary shall be the provincial secretary. 100. The chapter shall then elect by separate and secret ballotings and ac-cording to the norm of art. 84 two (three, four or more) delegates and two (three, four or more) substitutes to the general chapter. These must be sisters of perpetual vows. , 101. After these elections, the chapter shall deliberate on matters that con-cern the spiritual and temporal welfare of the province. The same procedure shall be followed in deliberations as in the general chapter. 210 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 102. Enactments of the provincial chapter have no force until they are ap-proved by the superior general with the consent of her council. They are then promulgated to the province by the provincial superior. 103. The chapter shall finally deliberate on the proposals to be made to the general chapter by the province. 104. The secretary shall draw up the complete proceedings of the chapter according to the norm of art. 73. One copy is to be sent immediately to the superior general, and a second copy is to be preserved in the archives of the province. The provincial superior shall immediately publish the elections to the province. 5. Preliminary sessions 105. The chapter immediately elects from among the capitulars by a relative majority of secret votes the two tellers and in the same way, in a dis-tinct balloting, the secretary 9f the chapter. The tellers for this preliminary election shall be the two capitulars youngest by first profession, and the secretary general shall be the secretary. 106. The chapter shall then elect by a relative majority of secret votes and on one ballot a committee of three capitulars who had no part in preparing or approving the reports of the superior general. This committee is to examine the reports thoroughly and give its observations to the chapter before the election of the superior general. 107. The superior general presents to the chapter two distinct and com-plete reports: one of the persons, religious life, and works; the other on the material and financial condition of the congregation since the last chapter. The financial report must have been prepared and also signed by the treasurer general. Copies of the reports should be distributed to the capitulars before the opening session. 6. Election of the superior general 108. The day before the election of the superior general shall be spent in retreat by the capitulars, and permission shall be requested for exposition of the Blessed Sacrament. 109. On the day of the election of the superior general, Mass shall be offered in the house where the chapter is held to invoke the blessing of God on the work of the chapter. If the rubrics permit, the Mass shall be the votive Mass of the Holy Spirit. 110. To be elected validly to the office of superior general, a sister must be professed of perpetual vows and have completed her thirty-fifth year. 111. The superior general is elected for six (five, four) years. She may be elected for a second but not for a third consecutive term, o i 12. The superior general is elected by an absolute majority of secret votes. If three ballotings fail to produce this majority, a fourth and last balloting shall be held. In this balloting the electors shall vote for one of the two sisters who Typical Constitutions / 211 had the highest number of votes in the third balloting, but these two sisters themselves shall not vote. If more than two would be eligible by reason of an equality of votes in the third balloting, the norm of art. 84 shall limit the can-didates to two. Of these two the sister who receives the greater number of votes in the fourth balloting is elected. (Diocesan congregation of women:) The local ordinary has full power to confirm or rescind the election of the superior general according to his conscience. 113. The president shall proclaim the newly elected superior general. This act terminates the duties of the presiding local ordinary. 7. Election of the general officials 114. After the election of the superior general and after she has taken the oath according to art. 72, the chapter under her presidency shall elect the four general councilors, the secretary general, and the treasurer general. These elec-tions are made by separate ballotings and according to the norm of art. 84. Immediately after the election of the four councilors, a distinct election for the assistant and vicar shall be held from among the four elected councilors. Or: The first councilor elected shall also be the assistant and vicar. 115. To be elected a general councilor or official a sister must have com-pleted her thirtieth year and have made perpetual profession. Any one of the councilors except the assistant may be elected as secretary general or treasurer general. These two officials should possess the special competence required for their offices. The superior general .may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. (Appointment articles) The secretary general and the treasurer general are not elected by the chapter but appointed (for a term of three years) by the superior general with the consent of her council. Both may be general coun-cilors but neither may be the general assistant. Both should possess the specialized competence required for their offices. The superior general may ap-point one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. The secretary general is not elected by the chapter but appointed (for a term of three years) by the superior general with the consent of her council. She may be a general councilor but not the general assistant. She should possess the specialized competence required for her office. The superior general may appoint one or more assistant secretaries and treasurers. 8. Chapter of affairs 116. After the elections the chapter shall treat of the more important af-fairs that concern the entire congregation. The enactments of the chapter may not be contrary to common law. or the constitutions. 117. Matters are decided by an absolute majority. I f the votes are equal, the presiding superior general has the right of deciding the matter. The voting is public. Any capitular has the right of requesting a secret vote on a particular matter. Such a request shall be put to the public vote of the chapter, lfthe ma- 212 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 jority favors the request, the voting on the particular matter shall be secret. Or: Matters are decided by an absolute majority of secret votes. If the votes are equal, the presiding superior general has the right of deciding the matter. 118. (The provincial chapters and) All professed sisters may submit written proposals to the general chapter. These must be forwarded to the superior general or her delegate at the prescribed time before the opening of the chapter. The capitulars retain the right of making proposals thereafter and during the sessions up to the definite time determined by the chapter, after which no proposals may be submitted. l l9. At a suitable time before the general chapter determined by the superior general, committees of three or more capitulars, appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council, shall arrange the proposals and prepare a report on each distinct proposal. These reports are to be com-pleted before the chapter opens. Every effort is to be made to have these com-mittees composed predominantly at least of capitulars. The superior general may permit that some or all of the committee members be elected by the secret vote of professed sisters or that they propose names for appointment. 120. The chapter is not obliged to deliberate on every matter proposed. It may simply exclude anything that appears useless or inopportune, or it may remit a matter to the study and decision of the superior general and her council after the close of the chapter. 121. The principal affairs are: (a) Suitable means of perfecting or restoring the living of the religious life (b) Proposals submitted to the chapter (c) Determination of the contribution that each house must make to the general treasury Or: Determination of the contribution that each house must make to the provincial treasury, and each province to the general treasury (d) Extraordinary expenditures which the superior general (provincial, regional), and local superiors may authorize or make alone, those that demand the advice or consent of their councils, and those for which local superiors must recur to the (provincial, regional superiors and either of these to the) superior general (e) Norms to be observed in addition to the prescriptions of the sacred canons in alienations, purchases, the assuming of obligations, and other matters of a financial nature (f) Determination of the dowry (g) Confirmation, modification, or abrogation of ordinances of previous general chapters (h) (In provincial congregations) Establishment of new provinces or the suppression of existing ones, the uniting of provinces, or the modification of their boundaries (i) Determination of more important matters for which the advice or con-sent of the general (provincial, regional) or local councils is necessary. 122. The enactments of the chapter remain in force permanently unless Typical Constitutions / 213 amended or abrogated by subsequent chapters. Or: The enactments of the chapter remain in force until the next chapter, in which they may be confirmed, modified, or abrogated. 123. The chapter may not be protracted beyond a reasonable length of time. The superior general shall publish the elections, ordinances, and other acts which the capitulars have determined should be published. STATUTES I. Classes in institute; rights and obligations. The members form one class of sisters subjec( to the one superior general and living under the same common norms. 2. Precedence. The following is the order of prec.edence in highly official and ceremonial matters (see full list in Review for Religious, 25 [1966], 365-8): 3. Titles. The superior general shall be called. The title of. shall be given to. The title of all other religious is Sister. The superior general alone at the expiration of her term of office shall retain the title of. and have the precedence stated in art. 2. 4. Religious habit. (For example:) The habit is of suitable black materi-al. 5. The veil of the professed sisters is of black material and light in weight. 6. The professed sisters wear a silver ring on the third finger of the left hand . . . 7. The sisters are permitted to wear white habits, veils, and cinctures while occupied in duties or in a climate that necessitates or counsels this dress. 8. Dowry. Postulants shall bring the dowry determined by the general chapter. The chapter may grant delegation in this matter to the superior general and her council. 9. The superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the consent of her council may remit wholly or in part the dowry of a candidate who lacks financial means. 10. A postulant dispensed from the dowry is obliged to establishone later if she receives any substantial gift or bequest. 11. After the first profession of a sister, the superior general (provincial congregation usually: provincial superior) with the consent of her council and that of the local ordinary must invest the dowry in safe, lawful, and profitable securities. ! 2. The dowries must be prudently and justly administered at the habitual residence of the superior general (provincial congregation usually: provincial superior). 13. Material entrance requirements. The superior general (provincial con-gregation: provincial or higher superior) with the consent (or advice, or no vote required) of her council shall determine the wardrobe and the sum to be paid for the expenses of the postulancy and noviceship. In particular cases and for just reasons, the superior general (provincial congregation: higher or provincial superior) has the right to dispense wholly or in part from this requirement. 214 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 14. A record shall be kept in a special register of all the property that the candidate brings with her to the postulancy, signed by the candidate and two sisters as witnesses. 15. The candidates, upon their admission to the postulancy, must sign a civilly valid document in which they declare that they will not seek compensa-tion for services given to the congregation before or after profession, whether they leave or are dismissed. This document is to be renewed at the time of perpetual profession. 16. Testimonials for admission. Before being admitted candidates must present these credentials: (a) Certificates of baptism and confirmation (b) A testimonial of good moral character from their pastor or another priest, unless the aspirant is already well known to the superior general (higher superior) (c) Certificates of good health, both physical and mental, from reliable professional sources (d) Other testimonials that the superior general (higher superior) may con-sider necessary or opportune. 17. Postulancy. The time prescribed for the postulancy is a year. For a just reason and with the advice of her council, the superior general (higher superior) may prolong or shorten this time but not beyond six months. 18. Every three months the directress shall give to the superior general (higher superior) and her council a report of the postulant's virtues, defects, and aptitude for the life of the congregation. 19. About three months before the beginning of the noviceship, the postulant shall in writing petition the superior general (higher superior) for ad-mission to the noviceship. 20. Before beginning the noviceship, the postulant shall make a retreat of. entire days. 21. Noviceship. As soon as possible, each province shall have its own novitiate. 22. The noviceship begins in the manner determined by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) The added year ends on the second anniversary of the inception of the noviceship, and on this day the temporary profession (or other commitment) may be licitly pronounced. 23. Three months before the end of the noviceship, the novices shall in writing request admission to the profession (or other commitment) from the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: provincial superior). 24. The novice shall be informed of her admission to vows so that in due time she may relinquish the administration of her property, dispose of its use and usufruct, and make a will, as prescribed in common law. 25. Before pronouncing her vows (or other commitment), the novice shall make a spiritual retreat of. entire days. 26. Profession of a novice in danger of death. Even though she has not com-pleted the time of her noviceship, a novice in danger of death may, for the con- Typical Constitutions / 215 solation of her soul, be admitted to profession by any superior, the directress of novices, or their delegates. The ordinary formula of profession is to be used if the condition of the novice permits, but without any determination of time. 27. By this profession the novice is granted a plenary indulgence in the form of a jubilee; the profession, however, has no canonical effect. If the novice should recover her health, her state will be the same as if she had made no profession. Therefore, if she perseveres, she must complete the full time of the noviceship and on its completion make a new profession, All of these prescrip-tions apply to other forms of commitment. 28. Religious profession. The written declaration of profession, whether temporary or perpetual, must be signed by the professed sister, the superior general or sister delegate who received the profession, and two other sisters as witnesses. This document shall be carefully preserved in the files of the con-gregation. 29. Three months before the expiration of each temporary profession, the sisters shall present a written petition to the superior general (provincial con-gregation frequently: provincial superior) to be admitted to the renewal of tem-porary vows or to perpetual profession. 30. When the time for which the vows were pronounced has expired, they must be renewed without delay. However, for a just reason, the superior general (provincial congregation frequently: higher or provincial superior) may permit the renewal of temporary vows to be anticipated, but not by more than a month. An anticipated renewal expires only on the day on which a non-anticipated renewal would have expired. Higher superiors.for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days. 3 I. Before perpetual profession, the sisters shall make a retreat of. entire days, and before renewal of temporary vows or commitment, a retreat of. day(s). Only the first profession must be made in the novitiate house. 32. Poverty. With the permission of the local superior, sisters may perform acts of proprietorship required by civil law. If such an act includes alienation of property or concerns an important matter, this permission is reserved to the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superiors) unless the case is urgent, when it may be given by the local superior. 33. Penance. All superiors are to strive to have confessors readily available before Communion. 34. Religious exercises. The sisters shall daily recite in common Lauds (and) Vespers (and) Compline of the Divine Office. 35. Every day the sisters shall spend a half hour in mental prayer. They shall individually prepare the matter of the prayer beforehand. 36. They shall make the particular and gen'eral examen of conscience at noon and at nigl~t. Privately and at a convenient time during the day, they shall recite five decades of the rosary and devote at least fifteen minutes to spiritual reading. 216 / Review for Religious, IZolume 34, 1975/2 37. The sisters shall accustom themselves to visit the Blessed Sacrament frequently. 38. Annually the sisters shall make a retreat of. full days. They shall observe a day of monthly recollection, which ordinarily is to be the o. Sunday of the month. 39. The sisters shall make a public devotional renewal of their vows and commitment on . . . They should renew their vows frequently in private, par-ticularly at Mass, and on the day of monthly recollection. The formula of this renewal is . 40. Superiors shall grant another suitable time to sisters who are prevented from performing the prescribed spiritual duties at the ordinary time. 41. Mortification and penance. In the practice of corporal mortification and penances of a private nature, the sisters are to be guided solely by the con-fessor; for those that are public they must have the permission of the superior. 42. Enclosure. The parts of the house subject to enclosure are the dor-mitories of the sisters, their cells, the infirmary, in a word, all places destined by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) for the ex-c| usive use of the sisters. 43. If the chaplain or other priests live in a house of the sisters, their apartments shall if p~ssible have a separate entrance and be separated from the part of the house occupied by the sisters. 44. The sisters shall observe the prescribed norms and usages on leaving the house. 45. Sisters living outside a convent of the congregation for study are obliged, if possible, to live in a religious house. 46. Correspondence. The correspondence of the sisters is subject to the authority of superiors, and of the junior professed, novices, and postulants also to their directresses. 47. Silence. Religious silence shall be observed according to the prescribed norms and usage of the congregation. 48. "~postolate. The sisters in hospitals shall be guided by religious and ethical principles in their professional activities. In a doubt they shall consult religious or ecclesiastical authority. 49. Care of the sick. Spiritual aid shall be promptly given to the sick. They may ask for the confessor they prefer and are to be given the opportunity of receiving Holy Communion frequently and even daily during their illness. 50. Suffrages for the dead. At the death of a professed religious or novice, the local superior shall immediately inform the superior general (provincial) and the close relatives of the deceased. The superior general (provincial) shall promptly send a notification to all the houses (of the province). 51. Departure and dismissal. The superior general (higher superior) with the advice of her council, for just and reasonable motives, may exclude a religious from renewing temporary vows (or other commitment) or from mak-ing profession of perpetual vows, also because of physical or psychological ill-ness. Religious who have made profession of temporary vows (or other corn- Typical Constitutions / 217 mitment) may freely leave the congregation when the term of the vows has ex-pired. 52. For the dismissal of a sister of perpetual vows, serious external reasons are required, together with incorrigibility, after attempts at correction have been pre~viously made without success, so that in the judgment of the superior general and her council there is no hope of amendment. The efforts at correc-tion shall include not only the admonitions but also a change of employment, transfer to another house, and other suitable means, if judged expedient for a reform of conduct. 53. If by the consent of the council expressed in secret ballot the sister has been found incorrigible and her dismissal approved, the superior general shall transmit the whole matter, with all the relevant acts and documents to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes (diocesan con-gregation: ordinary of the diocese where the religious house to which the sister is assigned is situated): (Added article in diocesan congregation:) The sister has the right to appeal to the Holy See against the decree of dismissal, and if she makes this appeal within ten days from the date on which she was informed of her dismissal, the decree of dismissal has no juridical effect while the recourse is pending. 54. In an automatic dismissal according to canon 646, it is sufficient that the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the advice of her council make a written declaration of the fact, but she is to take care that the collected proofs of the fact are preserved in the files of the congrega-tion. 55. In the case of~rave external scandal or of very serious imminent injury to the community, any professed sister may be immediately sent back to secular life by the superior general (provincial congregation: higher superior) with the consent of her council or even, if there is danger in delay and time does not permit recourse to the superior general (higher superior), by the local superior with the consent of her council and that of the local ordinary. The sister must immediately put off the religious habit. The local ordinary or the superior general (higher superior), if she is present, must without delay submit the matter to the judgment of the Holy See. 56. A sister who has been canonically dismissed is by that very fact freed from all her religious vows. 57. Superior general. The residence of the superior general shall be at the motherhouse and may not be permanently transferred without the consent of the general council and the permission of the Holy See (diocesan: permission of the ordinary of the present and proposed places of residence). 58. With the deliberative vote of her council, the superior general may place certain houses and works under her immediate authority and may also transfer these to a province. 59. The office of the superior general is incompatible with that of local superior, even in the motherhouse, or with that of any other official. '60. General council. The councilors should live at the motherhouse, but in a 218 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 case of necessity two of them, with the exception of the assistant, may live else~,here, provided they can attend the meetings of the council, to which they must always be summoned. The councilors should not be burdened with any employment that might prevent them from fulfilling properly their duties as councilors. Or: At least one councilor, ordinarily the general assistant, must live at the motherhouse. The other general councilors must be assigned to houses from which they can attend the meetings of the council, to which they must always be summoned . . . 61. An ordinary session of the council shall be held every month, but the superior general may convoke the council as often as important affairs are to be discussed. The council may not deliberate unless the president and at least two councilors are present. 62. At the beginning of the session the miiautes of the precedit~g meeting as recorded by the secretary general shall be read. When approved they shall be signed by the superior general and the secretary. 63. The superior general shall then place before the councilors the matters for discussion. When a subject has been stated and appropriate explanatigns given, she shall allow the councilors to speak and shall take care to obtain'the opinion of each. The councilors shall express their opinions with becoming respect, simplicity, and sincerity. 64. When the consent of the councilors is required, the voting must be by secret ballot. The decisions of the council are to be made by an absolute ma-jority. In an equality of votes, the superior general may decide the matter. 65. A full council is necessary for appointments to office. If a councilor cannot be present and the appointment cannot be deferred, a sister of perpetual vows shall be chosen by the councilors as substitute. 66. The superior general may summon sisters who are not councilors for in-formation or advice, but such sisters are never permitted to vote. All who thus attend sessions of the council are 9bliged to secrecy. 67. The superior general must have the deliberative vote of her council in the following cases: (a) Condonation in whole or in part of the dowry (b) Investment of the dowry (c) Determination of the expenses of the postulancy and noviceship (d) Admission to the noviceship and first profession (e) Establishment or transfer of a novitiate (f) Imposition of a formal precept of obedience on the entire congregation, a province, or a house (g) Dismissal of a professed of temporary or perpetual vows and the send-ing of a professed religious immediately back to secular life (h) Convocation of an extraordinary general chapter; designation of the place of the general chapter; inviting of externs and sisters who are not capitulars to the chapter; excusing of a capitular and the summoning of her substitute; compiling of list or groups for the election of delegates; appoint-ment of committees for proposals to the general chapter; and approval of enactments of provincial chapters Typical Constitutions (i) Transfer of the permanent residence of the superior general or of a provincial superior (j) Appointment of a visitor for the entire congregation (k).Choice of a substitute for an absent general councilor (1) Acceptance of the resignation, removal, or deposition of a general coun-cilor or official, and appointment of a successor in these cases (m) Appointment, prolongation of term, transfer, and removal of (provin-cial, regional, and) local superiors, their councilors, secretaries, and treasurers; of a directress or assistant directress of novices, of junior professed, of postulants; instructress of tertians, supervisors of schools and studies, prin-cipals of schools, and administrators of hospitals (n) Placing of houses and works under the immediate authority of the superior general and transferring of them to provinces ¯ (o) Transfer or removal of a superior or official before the expiration of a prescribed term (p) Approval of the accounts of the treasurer general (q) Imposition of an extraordinary tax, investment of money, alienation of ¯ property, contracting of debts and obligations, making of contracts in the name of the congregation, extraordinary expenses, and other matters of a financial nature according to the norms of canon law and the ordinances of the general chapter (r) Establishment, change, and suppression of provinces, regions, and erec-tion and suppression of houses (s) Uniting of the offices of Iota1 superior and local treasurer (t) All matters remitted to the deliberative vote by the general chapter (u) Determination of matters that require the consent or advice of the (provincial, regional, and) local councils. 68. The superior general must have the consultative vote of her council in the following cases: (a) Abbreviation of the added period of the postulancy, noviceship, and temporary vows or other commitment (b) Prolongation of and dismissal from the noviceship (c) Admission to renewal of temporary vows, their prolongation, admission to perpetual profession, and exclusion from renewal of temporary profession and from perpetual profession (d) Declaration of fact for the.automatic dismissal of a professed sister (e) Transfer of a sister from one province to another (f) Approval of the reports of the superior general to the general chapter (g) A practical interpretation of a doubtful point of the constitutions (h) All matters remitted to the consultative vote by the general chapter. 69. Secretary general. It is the duty of the secretary general to assist the superior general with the official correspondence of the congregation. She shall be present at all meetings of the general council and record the minutes of the sessions. She is obliged to secrecy in all that refers to her office. 70. She shall be in charge of the general archives and of all documents relating to the history and administration of the congregation. No document 220 / Review for Religious, l~olume 34, 1975/2 shall be taken from the archives except in conformity with the established regulations. 7 I. The secretary shall compile the annals of the congregation. Every year she shall receive from the local superiors an accurate record of the principal events of their houses. Or: The secretary shall compile the annals of the con-gregation. Every year she shall receive from the provincial (and regional) superiors an accurate record of the principal events of the provinces (regions), and houses. 72. The secretary shall be attentive to all legislation and decrees of the Holy See and to diocesan regulations and civil enactments that affect the congrega-tion, and shall keep the superior general and her council informed on all such matters. 73. The preceding articles apply with due distinctions to (provincial, regional, and) local secretaries. 74. Treasurers. The administration of the temporal goods is entrusted to the general (provincial, regional) and local treasurers under the direction of the respective superiors and the supervision of their councils. The treasurers are obliged to secrecy in all that appertains to their office. 75. The superior general may appoint as many assistants as necessary to the general and local treasurers (general treasurer, and the provincial and regional superior may do the same for provincial, regional, and local treasurers). 76. Treasurer general. The treasurer general manages the financial affairs connected with the general funds. Every six months she must give an account of her administration to the superior general and her council. If everything is found in order, the superior general and the council shall approve her ad-ministration by signing the statement. 77. The treasurer general must see that the (provincial, regional, and) local superiors send a report of their administration to the motherhouse every six months. She shall examine these reports to obtain an exact insight into the financial state of the congregation and its parts and shall give the general coun-cil an accurate account of her examination. 78. Provincial and regional treasurers. The provincial (and regional) treasurer(s) is (are) appointed by the superior general with the consent of her council. Neither the provincial superior nor the assistant provincial may be provincial treasurer. The two preceding articles must be observed also by the provincial (and regional) treasurer with regard to the provincial superior (and the regional superior), her council (their councils), and the local houses. 79. Local treasurers. In each house there shall be a local treasurer, who is appointed by the superior general (provincial) with the consent of her council. Although it is preferable to separate the office of local superior from that of local treasurer, the superior general (provincial), with the same vote of her council, may combine them if this is necessary. 80. The local treasurer shall render a monthly account of her administra-tion to the local superior and her council, who shall examine and approve it ac- Typical Constitutions / 221 cording to the norm of art. 76. Every six months each house shall send an ac-curate financial statement to the superior general (provincial). 81. Administration of temporal goods. Each province must contribute to the general and each house to the provincial (or regional) treasury the sum determined by the general chapter. The superior general with the consent of her council may, when necessary, impose an extraordinary tax on all or some of the provinces and houses or authorize a provincial or regional superior to impose such a tax. 82. Houses or works whose financial responsibility appertains to ecclesiastical or lay administrators and in which the income consists of salaries paid for the sisters shall remit to the general treasury that part of the surplus established by the general chapter. 83. The treasurers validly incur expenses and perform juridical acts of or-dinary administration within the limits of their office. 84. Stocks, bonds, securities, and similar papers shall be placed in a secure safe or safe-deposit box, and the treasurer shall keep an exact record of all such deposits and withdrawals. 85. Each house must maintain an inventory of all property owned by the community. The inventory must be renewed annually for adjustment and depreciation. One copy is to be retained in the house (and another in the provincial or regional house) and one in the files of the treasurer general. An inventory is to be maintained in the same manner for all property owned by (the province and) the congregation. 86. The investment of money should not be made except on the authoriza-tion of the superior general (higher superior) with the consent of her council and ordinarily with the advice of a honest and competent financier. 87. Besides the ordinary expenses, each (province, region, and) house may expend only the sum determined by the general chapter. For other extraor-dinary expenses recourse must be made to the superior general (higher or regional superiors). 88. Provinces. In each house there shall be a provincial house so organized that the proper performance of all provincial duties may be assured. 89. Provincial councilors, secretary, and treasurer. The provincial coun-cilors shall individually submit an annual report to the superior general on the spiritual and temporal state of the province. 90. The provincial superior shall assemble her council once a month; ex-traordinary sessions shall be called when necessary or opportune. 91. The provincial superior must have the deliberative vote of her council for the following acts: (a) Condonation in whole or in part of the dowry (b) Investment of the dowry (c) Determination of the expenses of the postulancy and novicesliip (d) Admission to the noviceship (e) Imposition of a formal precept of obedience on the whole province or an entire house 222 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 (f) Sending a professed religious immediately back to secular life (g) Designation of the place of the provincial chapter, inviting of externs and sisters who are not capitulars to this chapter, excusing of a capitular and summoning of her substitute, compiling of lists or groups for the election of delegates, and the appointment of committees on proposals to the general or provincial chapter (h) Appointment of a visitor for the entire province (i) AppointmenL transfer, and removal of local councilors and treasurers, the assistant directress, of novices, the directress of postulants, principals of ~chools, and the uniting of the offices of local superior and local treasurer (j) Removal or transfer of an official before the expiration of a prescribed term (k) Choice of a substitute for an absent provincial councilor (1) Approval of the accounts of the provincial treasurer (m) Investment of money, alienation of property, contracting of debts and obligations, the making of contracts in the name of the province, extraordinary expenses, and other matters of a financial nature according to the norms of canon law and the ordinances of the general chapter (n) Other matters according to the enactments of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council (o) The determination of matters that require the consent or advice of local councils. 92. The provincial superior must have the deliberative vote of her council for the following requests to the superior general: (a) Erection and transfer of a novitiate and erection and suppression of houses (b) Admission to first profession (c) Dismissal of a professed of temporary or perpetual vows (d) The appointment, proposal of names, removal, deposition, and replace-ment of provincial councilors and officials, local superiors, directress of novices, of junior professed, instructress of tertians, supervisors of schools and studies, and administrators of hospitals (e) The imposition of an extraordinary tax (f) Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council. 93. The provincial superior must have the consultative vote of her council for the following acts or requests to the superior general: (a) To assign the duties of the sisters and to transfer them from one house to another within the province (b) Abbreviation and prolongation of the postulancy, the noviceship, and temporary vows or other commitment (c) Dismissal from the noviceship (d) Admission to renewal of temporary vows (e) Admission to perpetual profession and exclusion from renewal of tem-porary vows a~nd from perpetual profession Typical Constitutions / 223 (f) Declaration of fact for the automatic dismissal of a professed sister (g) Other matters according to the ordinances of the general chapter or of the superior general with the consent of her council. 94. Regions. The regional councilors shall individually submit an annual report to the superior general on the spiritual and temporal state of the region. 95. Houses. At least., sisters must be assigned to a house and adequate provision made for their spiritual assistance. 96. Local superiors. A sister who has been in office for six (twelve) successive years may not again be appointed local superior in any house before the lapse of a (two, three) year(s), except in a case of serious necessity. 97. The local superior shall send a written report once a year to the superior general (provincial) on the spiritual and temporal state of her community. 98. Local officials. In every formal house there shall be two councilors. One is to be designated as assistant and vicar. In smaller houses there is one coun-cilor. The councilors must be sisters of perpetual vows. The local councilors shall write individually to the superior general (provincial) once a year on the spiritual and temporal state of the house. 99. In the absence of the local superior, the assistant shall preside and replace her in whatever is necessary for the ordinary management of the house. 100. The local superior shall convoke her council every month or oftener, if necessary. The norms on the general council, with due distinctions, apply to the local council. Local councilors have only a consultative vote except in the ex-traordinary case mentioned in art. 55 and in matters for which the general chapter or the superior general (or provincial superior), with the consent of her council, has decreed that the vote must be deliberative. 101. The following are the subjects to be discussed by the superior and her council: the fulfillment of the obligations of the religious life and the religious spirit of the community, the occupations of the sisters, the material and finan-cial condition of the house, the work of the school or institution, and the means to be used to encourage works of zeal and to correct deficiencies. 102. Directress of novices. If the number of novices or any other good reason renders it expedient, a sister shall be given as assistant to the directress. The assistant shall be under the immediate authority of the directress in all matters pertaining to the government of the novitiate. She must possess the necessary and suitable qualifications for the office. 103. The directress and her assistant are appointed for three years. Both must be free from all other offices and duties that might interfere with the care and government of the novices. 104. The directress shall grant all ordinary permissions and dispensations to the novices. 105. Every three months the directress must present to the superior general (provincial superior, regional superior) a report on the vocation, character, conduct, progress in.religious life, aptitude,'and state of health of each novice. Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C. Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C., is a faculty member in the Department of Religion; lona College; New Rochelle, New York 10801. "You can't take it with you" is an oft-cited maxim from the treasures of pop-ular wisdom, intended to temper the Faustian spirit within man by the reminder that death will separate him from all possessions, honors, and ac-complishments. The maxim applies not only to our inability to carry possessions beyond the doors of death. It speaks also to our daily experience: it is impossible to hold onto the joys whi,ch life provides. It is like the proverbial efforts of a child trying to capture soap bubbles. Rather than simply delighting in their multi-colored beauty, (he child tries to capture them and, in so doing, destroys them. So it is with pleasure: the attempt to capture the beautiful ex-perience destroys it. The attempt-to-own generates dissatisfaction, disappoint-ment, worry, jealousy, suspicion, envy, and a host of internal cancers, all of which crowd out the simple faculties of enjoyment. Possessiveness, the Enemy of True Delight This suggests an important principle: the enemy of true delight is possessiveness. He who would experience the beauty of God's world, the joys of full human life, must learn to enjoy beauty, love, achievement without try-ing, without wanting, to possess them. This approach--symbolized by open-handed arms, extended to touch without holding--is not easily learned, and yet it is necessary if one hopes to taste fully the joy which life bestows, erratically but prodigally, on those who have discerned her ways. The truly wise person is one who, for example, delights in the excitement of achievement, who knows well the joys of friendship,, who has developed an appreciation for the arts, but 224 Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows / 225 who resists the tendency to possess them. This person knows that, because life is generous, there is no reason to cling to one particular object, person, or ex-perience. There will always be others. The possessive person, on the other hand, bent upon having certain selected experiences, fails to notice and thus enjoy the offerings of a bountiful world. This person has not learned a key truth about human life: the beautiful things in life "happen" and cannot be made to occur or to remain. The effort to force their occurrence, which in-evitably fails, only introduces disappointment and frustration, pain and anger. A new insight into religious life can be gained when it is approached in this context. The three vows, which have been considered descriptive of the religious life, are concerned with three drives within the human spirit which are particularly susceptible to the possessive tendency. It is the thesis of this paper that religious life, as it has been traditionally structured, places a person in a life style which should reduce the pressures leading to possessiveness in each of these areas. Accordingly, each vow involves both a promise to observe a par-ticular life style, as well as a pledge to seek the freedom from possessiveness which that life style is intended to inculcate. In this article, we shall consider separately these three human drives, noting both healthy (nonpossessive) and unhealthy (possessive) forms of each, showing how the religious life style should foster the former. The Vow of Obedience Essential to healthy personality is the sense of fulfillment which one feels when, with body and mind, through ingenuity and hard struggle, one over-comes the forces of disintegration and creates order, beauty and happiness. To know that one has created, has made one's mark upon the world, has con-tributed to the progress of society, is a deeply felt human need. For one who has known this self-affirmation which follows successful creative efforts, work is not drudgery but is an invitation to self-fulfillment. But we often find the possessive tendency present here, adulterating the healthy creative drive, transforming it into a force which is debilitating. The valuable drive to create can give way all too easily to a pathetic search for success and recognition and, then, the energy which should be directed toward creative activity is channeled into frantic efforts to attain or retain positions of prestige. The person who is possessive about success will avoid any under-taking unless there is a guarantee of succeeding. He will pare his life down to a few "safe" activities in which he knows he can succeed, activities in which there is no competition. When he has found something which affords him some recognition, he will jealously protect that position, resenting any newcomers who might replace him. He studiously will avoid challenge. Such are not the ways of the creative person. He, too, enjoys the taste of success and delights in the recognition which accompanies achievement. But he knows that too much concern with success is destructive, distracting,, and futile; therefore he refuses to expend excessive energies in vain efforts to main-tain positions of real or imagined importance. He knows when and how to let 226 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 go of past success: he willingly relinquishes a position when others better qualified are available. He knows when and how to accept a new challenge, even when--especially when--there is no assurance as to the outcome. Such a life is filled with challenge and struggle, and the excitement of knowing that one is attempting the "impossible." It is difficult to be such a person. It is in this context that we might consider the vow of obedience. By the vow of obedience, a religious not only promises to observe the traditions and customs of a congregation but pledges as well the intention to overcome as far as is possible the tendency to be possessive with respect to creative endeavors, the tendency to idolize success, prestige, or power. The religious life style, in which authority is defined in terms of service to the community, where ap-pointments to positions of authority are for relatively short periods of time, where~ one's "standard of living" does not depend upon the positions held--such a life style establishes a milieu which should reduce the tendency to idolize position. The life of religious community should free its members from many of the pressures which are experienced by others in a world where com-petition is the game plan and where concern for livelihood itself forces many to engage, however reluctantly, in a scramble for positions, and a subsequent campaign to eliminate all contenders, once an office is acquired. Unfortunately, there are religious who never take advantage of this freedom which the structure of their life facilitates but who allow possessiveness to color all their activities. There is no automatic relation between the religious life style and true detachment. Many are the religious who carve for themselves niches in life from which they cannot be moved; many are the religious who place great store in the most foolish of honors and distinctions and who jealously resent anyone interested in the same; many are the religious who are fearful of innovation and innovators and allow this fear to paralyze their lives; many are the religious who never experience the sense of power~and of joy which come from struggle against, and success over, difficult odds. Insecurity is not easily overcome. But the point remains that the com-munal life style can facilitate, and is intended to facilitate, a detachment from the vitiating need to achieve success or prestige. Once freed, the creative drive can be a source of happiness, joy, and growth. The Vow of Chastity Little need be said of the important role which the drive toward human relationship can play in the development of mature personality. Love has the ability to shatter, even if only temporarily, the consciousness which walls a per-son off into an isolated, self-absorbed space. Suddenly, or gradually, the ex-perience of giving and receiving love introduces one into a new understanding of life and one's relation to it; it allows one to dispense with unneeded, counter-productive defenses; and it encourages one to "unpretzel" himself, to allow himself to touch and to be touched by powers beyond the self. For many, love is the first experience, the first taste, of that "other life," that other "self," which is within ("the kingdom of God is within you"), waiting to erupt into and Non-possessiveness and the Religious Vows / 227 gladden the lives of every person. "God is love" is the way the Christian writers spoke of the sacred, and for many, perhaps most, love relations will remain the door by which they can understand and enter into the Godly perception. Because the experience of love is redemptive, a person understandably wishes to prevent it from being destroyed, diminished, or infringed upon. Unfor-tunately, this healthy wish to protect something important can, and does, easily degenerate into counterproductive efforts to possess and to demand love, which can never be possessed or demanded. And, thus, the salvific drive towards relationship is transformed into a destructive passion. The possessive person mistakenly believes that exclusivity is a prerequisite to deep, "real" love, and thus he reaches out only to those few people from whom he expects near total response. He wants undivided attention from those he loves. In his desire to keep the loved one for himself, he cuts the other off from every outside relationship, interest, and involvement, foolishly thinking that he can be all things to that person. He even views the interests and ac-tivities of the other, when these are not held and enjoyed together, as rivals to be eliminated from the field. And in a similar way, he limits his own world. Cut off thus from the sources of growth, they both die of malnutrition. That is, if they are not first destroyed by the suspicion and jealousy which inevitably plague such possessive relationships. Clinging love, so different from simple love, is a cancer which leaves its host blinded or distraught. How different is the non-possessive person! He fears the human tendency to suffocate loved ones, and therefore he is pleased when the other develops new, outside relationships and interests, knowing that they are the sources of life and growth. He fears as well his tendency to suffocate himself. He knows it is important that he never stop growing in love, that he not cease to meet and commune with the different people life brings into his world. Without denying the special importance of long-standing friendships and loves, the non-possessive person values the opportunities to commune with many people in a lifetime. As he grows in maturity, he finds that it becomes progressively easier for him to let down his defenses, to give and elicit trust and spontaneity in others, to communicate as a person to a person. In other words, he grows in the ability to love. A clarification may be necessary here: at first, the suggestions in this sec-tion might seem to reject the possibility or value of permanent relationships, especially marriage. But a call for non-possessive love should not be confused with an advocacy for that non-responsible form of love which is delighted to be freed from any kind of commitment. In every friendship and romance one takes upon himself responsibilities to the other which perdure even after that mysterious, uncontrollable attraction we call love has passed on. Which is to say that the relationship of friendship or marriage is more than simply a form of intimate intercommunion. In view of this analysis, the vow of chastity might be seen as follows: by the vow of chastity a religious promises not only to live a chaste, unmarried life, but pledges as well his or her intention to eradicate the strong, "natural" 22a / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/2 propensity toward possessive love and to overcome the "natural" propensity to restrict love and care to a few people over whom he or she can claim an ex-clusive priority. Celibacy is a call to be constantly open to relationship, to be ready to befriend any person met with a non-demanding love. Far from a pledge to live in isolation from human love, the vow of celibacy asks of those so vowed that they strive to love deeply without making claims upon others. Especially it would ask them to fuse this freedom with a concern for the lonely, the unattractive, the fearful. Because the religious neither takes a spouse nor parents children, he or she avoids the temptation to center all one's love and care upon a few people, and the temptation to regard spouse and children as people over whom one has a right to demand love. By opting to live a com-munity life, the religious places himself or herself in a milieu where both the joys and responsibilities of multirelationship are encouraged and facilitated. Thus the celibate life style is a structure which should aid the development of an enlarged and non-destructive approach to the world of intimacy. These comments are not intended to suggest that the celibate form of life automatically engenders this freedom so necessary if one is to know fully the joy of love. Many are the religious who faithfully observe the restrictions of celibate life, but who never attain its spirit: whose relationships with friends or students or colleagues are characterized by ownership, exclusivity, jealousy, and all the concomitant signs of possessiveness. Many are the religious who never find througl~ their celibate life the freedom to enter easily int6 warm, redemptive relationships, who never realize in their lives the truth of the maxim that religious are called to parent thousands. In summary: the vow of chastity has traditionally been presented in terms of sacrifice, a sacrifice which was valued because human relationships were thought to interfere unnecessarily with the search for God or the demands of the apostolate. There is, of course, truth in this argument: as we have seen, love can give birth to a possessiveness which does interfere with a person's service to God and neighbor. The vow might better be supported by a spirituality which differentiates between possessive and non-possessive relationships, which knows that love can be both the source of salvation and the source of destruc-tion. The celibate life, then, is valued, not because it involves renunciation but because it can be a step towai'd the ability to love without that possessiveness which weakens or destroys the consciousness which we call love. The Vow of Poverty Repeatedly in Christian hist6ry, there arose the temptation to embrace Manicheism: to see the world and its joys as the creation of an evil spirit and as traps for the human soul. Against this heresy, orthodox Christian theology has insisted that the God who created man's spirit also created the material world, and that, as the author of Genesis insists, He saw it, and found it to be good. Orthodox spirituality teaches the Christian that he can discover the God of the Gospels reflected in His creation: through the beauty of the world, through the joys which it brings, one meets and touches the sacred. Sensitivity to the beauty Non-pissessiveness and the Religious Vows / 229 of life is'a drive, an important ,one, by which a person can taste and see the goodness of God. The joys of life help man to venture outside his narrow self-world, to discover h~s at-homeness w~th that which is beyond, to understand the truth that one is but a branch whose fulfillment depends upon maintaining unity with the Vine. He who islinsensitive to beauty, whose mind cannot be moved by the complex-powerful-fragile world is indeed a poor man, dis-possessed of a key which can fr~e him from the prison of alienation and from the illusion of i,n, dividualism. ,~s the Christian learns daily when gathered around the Lord s Table, God [is to be found in His world, in the common bread and wine¯ But enjoyment of the world and its pleasures easily parents a possessiveness toward things which is neither healthy nor redemptive. The possessive per-sonality begins to amass, or Idesires to amass, large stores of material belongings, assuming that ownership of things is a prerequisite to enjoying them, is a means of holding onto joy. No sooner ts the beauttful encountered than the possessive person begm,s planmng ways to hold onto the source ofthat pleasure in order to insure that it can be repeated. But experience teaches that this effort to prolong-by-possessing fails¯ It succeeds only in introducing worry, jealousy, and dissatisfaction. This concern for, this worry about, owning becomes so ~mportant that the original goal of enjoyment ~s overwhelmed and forgotten. Time is spent collecting, protecting, preserving, insuringmand these become substitutes for enjoymetlt. In one's desire to hold onto a particular joy, one fads to notice, and therefor~ to respond to, the ~nnumerable joys which prodigal world offers PossessiTe people, people who desire to own a lot, are often people who enjoy very httle. The non-possessive person, precisely because his attentions and energies are not being channeled into the attainment or protection of a few chosen ob-jects of importance, is one who ~an find delight in the most unexpected places, I who is regularly surprised by joy. He understands that the person who wishes to know the joys of this life mus~ resist the ever-present, self-defeating tendency to force their attentions¯ He m!ust learn to touch without holding. Traditionally, the vow of poverty has been understood in terms of sacrifice, a "giving up" of the material world, whose pleasures are sirens to the spirit, diversions from the work of the Master¯ A more balanced, ~ncarnat~onal spirituality would teach Christians to be wary, not of pleasure itself, but of the spirit of possessiveness toward~ pleasure and the world which affords these joys. Such a spirituality woul~l teach Christians that in pleasure they ex-perience the salvific presence of the Creator, and that such appreciationsmfar from being destructive--can be invaluable aids to the spiritual life¯ This spirituality would also maintain that the attractions of the material world can be dangerous, not because they themselves are spiritually injurious, but because they do tend to excite the possessive tendency within a person. Enjoy-ment easily gives way to covetousness, worry, jealousy, frustration, all of which destroy integrity and distract from values. It is this spirit of possessiveness--the need to own, the fear of losing, the desire for more--which is injurious to the life of grace and which must be overcome¯ 230 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/2 The vow of poverty might be approached in this context: by the vow of poverty, a religious promises not only to live communal life according to the constitutions and customs of his or her congregation, but pledges as well the in-tention to overcome as far as is possible the possessive tendency toward the good things, the pleasures of this world. Communal life, where material resources are shared and where individual worry about present or future needs is considerably reduced, is a structure which should make non-possessiveness toward material things a more easily attained goal. By eliminating many of the pressures of finance which accompany a more individualistic way of life, the common life facilitates the development of that freedom from possessiveness which is essential if one is to live life fully and enjoy properly the things which life provides. This is not to suggest that there exists some automatic relation between observing the requirements of a communal life and achieving a proper interac-tion with material things. Many are the religious who faithfully observe every detail of their communal obligations but who never attain a spirit of freedom from worry and possessiveness about "things," who never come to realize that "freedomrs just another word for nothing left to lose." Many are the religious for whom the life of communal sharing represents deprivation, rather than a door to fuller experience. Nor should one deduce from this approach to pover-ty that there is no sacrifice or renunciation involved in the life of communal sharing. Within most people there is something of the Lucifer who would rather be master in hell than serve in heaven. The desire to possess, to make certain things one's own, is a strong drive, and is controlled only with con-siderable effort and denial. But the point remains: the goal of the vow of pover-ty is not a renunciation of all pleasure, but the purification of one's ability to experience and enjoy God's world. Summary and Conclusion In summary, the three vows reflect three aspects of a central spiritual goal: to experience fully human life without seeking to "possess" its joys. While vowing to observe particular sets of obligations, the religious pledges as well the intention to lead a life characterized by freedom from possessiveness--to attempt a life in which the joys of intimate relationships with people, ap-preciative interaction with things, and genuine rejoicing in successful endeavors do not deteriorate into a jealous demand for attention and affection, into a constant search for things to own, into an idolatrous quest for prestige. These are the ideals of religious life. And, to this writer, the extent to which religious have been successful in realizing these ideals is impressive: Even in times when the spirituality was quite different from that articulated in this article, the writer met many religious men and women who exhibited that joy in life which follows upon a non-possessive stance. Loving and caring in their relationships; appreciative and sensitive to the simplest of pleasures; ready to respond to the challenge with a spirit which so often spelled victory--these describe well the lives Of Non-possessiveness and the Religious l/ows / 231 countless religious men and women. It would seem, then, to this writer, that religious life works. His judgment is favorable because he realizes how power-ful is the possessive tendency within the human spirit, and what a marvelous thing it is to see it mastered. His judgment is favorable because he realizes how difficult it is to learn that "obvious" truth about human life: that "you can't take 'it' with you." The Modern Religious Community and Its Government Sister Mary A lice Butts Sister Mary Alice of the Congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal is a member of the Department of Political Science of St. Francis Xavier University, Sydney Campus; her address is: Holy Angels Convent; P.O. Box 1384; Sydney, Nova Scotia BIP 6K3; Canada. The study of political philosophy involves, for anyone who takes on the exer-cise, a study of the term "community." In the process of such a study, it is not difficult to find some similarities between "community" as it relates to the political scene and the same word as it is used to designate particular religious groups. In the following pages I shall attempt to draw some lessons from political philosophy and then apply those lessons to the community life of religious. I want, first of all, to examine the senses in which the word "community" is used. Then I shall try to apply these findings to "religious communit.y" and specifically to the modern religious community. Finally, I shall look at a few aspects of the methods of governing a modern religious community. Community in Political Thought From the very dawn of the writings of political philosophy, there was a recognition of the fact that ~ human is created as a social being, that he or she can live a complete life only in association with other human beings. Aristotle and the Greeks in general taught that human life could be lived most fully in a small community where every citizen knew every other and each played his part "in ruling and being ruled." All through the history of political theory we recognize the inevitable conflict which must arise between the individual, on the one hand, and the group on the other. Even in philosophy itself, we speak of the whole as composed of heterogeneous parts. The smallest organisms contain 232 The Modern Religious Community and Its Government / 233 cells which strain to go off on their own and we need never be surprised if clusters of human beings living in communities will be less compact, since they are larger and looser. St. Thomas Aquinas and Medieval philosophers in general addressed themselves to the problem of the whole and the parts; that is, to the realization that individual members of any community may be for greater integration or for greater separateness simply because of their individual temperaments. The ones who are for greater integration seek security first; those for greater separateness may be simply moved by a spirit of adventure. For others, the side they choose may depend partly on the theory they hold regarding the nature of the group itself. These ask the question: Is the community a means of supplementing what the individual can do for himself or is it an organic body with a life of its own, in some sense beyond the life of the individual member? This is the question which is posed for the students of political theory. Just to illustrate how one pursues this problem, let us consider a few lines from a text in political thought describing the te~ichings of nineteenth century liberal theorists. The text reads: In the language of Emmanuel Kant, a community is a "Kingdom of Ends." A political problem . . . is a problem in human relations, to be solved with a mutual recognition of rights and obligations, with self-restraint on both sides. Within such a relationship, issues and disagreements will evidently be perennial. ¯. The liberal presumption is that their solution can be found by discussion, by interchange of proposals, adjustment, compromise, always on the assumption that both sides recognize rights and perform obligations in good faith. And the institutions of such a community are thought of as primarily providing the means by which discussion can end in a meeting of minds that reduces coercion to an unavoidable'minimum. They exert authority, but it is a kind of loose-fitting authority which is only rarely burdensome and on the whole is largely self-applied by the people concerned? Religious Community Is More than Political Co~mmunity The above

Issue 15.2 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; MARCH ]5', 1956 VOLUME XV NUMBER 2 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME XV FEBRUARY, 1956 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS MOTHER CORNELIA CONNELLY--Mother Mary Eleanor, S.H.C.J.57 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE-~--Bernard Leeming, S.J .6.9. SUMMER SESSIONS . 90 SISTERS' RETREATS--II--Thomas Dubay, S.M .9.1. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 9. Entrance Fee for Postulants and Novices . 97 10. Residen~ Chaplain as Confessor . 98 11. Legal Protection Against Remuneration for Services . . . 99 12, Correspondence with the Vicar Also Exempt .100 13. Washing of Purificators, Palls, and Corporals ., . .: . . . :. 101 14. New Rubrics for Little Office of the B.V.M .1.0.1 15. Sending Letters to Superior General .102 16. The Meaning of a Plus Book . 102 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 103 CATHOLIC ALMANAC, 1956 . 112 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1956. Vol. XV, No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter, 2anuary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ell~d, S.3., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Henry Willmerlng, S.3. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Copyright,'1956, by Reoieto for Religious. Permission is hereby granted for quo-tations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the ahthor Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a .copy. Printed in U. S. A~ Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. The Myst:ici m of Obedience Bernard keeming, S.J. ALL great things are simple. God is great and God is simple. If we are united with God's will, we are uiaited with God,. because God's will is" God. And if we are united with God, we are united with F~ither, Son, and Holy Ghost; for the Trinity is simple also. Obedience is a great thing and obedience is simple. "If you love me, ke~p my commandments" (John 14: 15). If you wish to be perfect, just~ do as y~u are told. "He that keepeth my commandments, is he th~at loveth me, and he that loveth me, ~hall be loved of my Father, and I will love him and will manifest myself to him" (John 14:2.1). In obedience we truly receive a revelation of Christ. St. Teresa gives several rexamples Qf what she thought sim-plicity or ":innocenc'e" in obediende. At Avila, she, says, "One thing I remember, which is this: once'in the refectory we had cucumbers given us'for our portions, and to me a very small one, "rotten within. Pretending not to l£e aware of. thi), I called a sister, one of the most able and sensible in the h'ouse, and, to try her'obedi-, ?nce, told her to go and plant it in a .little garden we had. She asked me Whether it was to be planted endways or sideways. I told her sideways, She went and planted it, without thinking that it could not possibly fail to die. The. fact that she was acting under obedi-ence made her natural reason blind, so that she believed that what she did was perfectly right" i( Foundations, ed. Lewis, p. 6). And, probably at Toledo or Mailagon, she narrates: "To a prioress came a nun, and showed her a very large worm, saying, 'Look how beautiful it is!' The prioress in jest replied 'Then go and eat it,' She went and fried it. The Cook asked her why she fried a worm, and she answered, 'To eat ;it,' and would have done so. Thus thro,ugh a great carelessness of that prioress that nun might have done herself much barni" (ibid., p. 161)." For my own part, fear I wonder if the two nuns in question were quite so simple as St, _Teresa imagined they were! However, not to delay on planting cucumbers or frying worms, there are four considerations we make about obedience which show that there is a great mystery in it, and a great reality' Of union with God. , 69 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious 1. Our Saviour's obedience to His Father reveals to us some-thing of the eternal relations of the Blessed Trinity. 2. Through obedience we attain union with Christ and with His Father in the Holy Ghost. 3. Our Saviour's obedience sums up the mystery of the Re-demption of mankind. 4. Through obedience likewise we "cooperate with Christ, in a true sense make one with Christ, in His redeeming and saving mlSslon. CHRIST'S OBEDIENCE AND THE BLESSED TRINITY Nothing is dearer in the Gospels than that Christ is one with the Father in understanding, willir~g, accomplishing, and in very being. Christ's teaching was at once His own, and yet in a sense, not His own but the Father's: "My doctrine is not mine, but His who sent me" (John 7:16), that is, the teaching is not Christ's alone, but'equally the Father's: it is not' Christ's as separated from God. "He who sent me is true, and the things I have heard of Him, these same I speak in the world . I do nothing of m;fself, but as the Father has taught me, these things I speak" (John 8:26, 28). Even the Father does not judge alone: "Neither doth the Father judge any man, but hath given all judgment to the Son" (John 5:22); and yet the Father does judge with the Son: "Arid if I do judge, my judgment is true: because I am not alone,but I and the .Father that sent me" (John 8:16). Hence it is that acceptance of Christ is acceptance of the Father: "He that believeth in me, doth not believe in me, but in him that sent me . I have not spoken of myself; but the Father who sent me, he gave me com-mandment what I should say and what I should speak" (John 12: 44, 49). Incidentally, the same is true of the Hol~ Ghost: He, too, "shall not speak of himself: but what things soever be shall hear, he Shall speak . . . he shall glorify me, because he shall receive of mine" (John 16:13). Only the Father has knowledge without origin; the Sod and the Holy Ghost bare the same identical knowledge, but from the Father. In the same way, Christ says that He did not come to do His own will, but the will of Him who sent Him. None can doubt that Christ's will was for the salvdtion of men: "I am~ the good shepherd. The good shepherd giveth his life for his sheep . . . therefore doth the Father love me, because I lay down my life 7O March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE that I may tak~ it again" (dohn 10:il, 17). And yet He says: "I came down from heaven not to do my own w, ill, but the will of Him that sent me" (3ohn 6:38 andcf, v. 30). The heart of Christ is not more compassionate nor more tender than the heart of His Father: "For God so loved the world, as to give His only begotten Son: that whosoever believeth in him,' may not perish, but may have life everlasting" (John 3:16). The will of the Father and the will of the Son for the salvation of the world is the same, "for God sent not his "Son into the world, to judge the world, but that the world might be saved by, him" (John 3:17). This unity of will is touchingly manifest.on the death of Lazarus. Jesus had wept, "and the Jews said, "Behold bow be loved him." And when the stone was removed, lifting up his eyes, He said: "Father, I give thanks that thou hast heard me. And I know that thou hearest me always; but because of the people who stand about I have said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me." Then He cal.led the dead man out of the tomb. He knew His Father's will was to do what He wished. They willed the same, and Christ's human will was perfectly in accord with His Father's divine will. Christ's power is the same as His Father's. "The Son cannot do anything of Himself, but what he seeth the Father doing: for what things so ever he doth, these the Son Mso doth in like man-ner. For as the Father raiseth up the dead and giveth life: so also the Son giveth life to whom he will" (John 5:20). "If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not" (John 10:37). The works, of course, referred pri'marily to the miracles: stilling the storm, feeding the five thousand, giving sight to the blind man, raising Lazarus from the dead;, but they include all that Christ did. "Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me? The words that I speak to you, I speak not of myself. But the Father who abideth in ,me, he doth His own works" (John 14:10). But the unity of power is most clearly showia when Christ speaks of protecting His sheep: He knows His sheep and they follow Him and He will give them life everlasting. "No man shall pluck them out of my hand." Whence this absolute confi-dence that no created power can steal away His sheep? "No one can snatch them out of the hand of my Father. I and the Father are one" (John 10:29, 30). His power is the same as His Father's All that Christ'has is given. Him by the Father; and the Father holds nothing back from the Son, not even His own life. His dis- 7.1 BERNARD LEEMING Review /:or Religious ciples wh~ weke,faithful to Him were given Him by His Father: "Thine they were, and to me thou gavest them" (John 17:6). deed, all the Father has, is the Son's: "All my things are thine, and thine are mine" (John 17:1Q). "The Father loveth the Son, and he hath given all things into his hand;' (John 3:35). And . before the washing of the feet, perhaps surprisingly~ St. John tells us: "Knowing that the Father had given him all things into 'his hands, and that he cache from God and goeth to God: he "riseth Trom sup-per, and layeth aside his garments, and having .taken a ,towel, girded himself'" and put the water into a basin and began to wa~sh ¯ ,the feet of the disciples (John 13:3 ff.). His knowledge that all He had was of the Father is perhaps the very reason why He wished to inculcate humility; since the Father kept back nothing from Him, He in turn wished to give His service and to show that such humble service is a reflection of the very life of God. But the Father gives even His own life: "As the F'ather hath life in himself, so be bath given to the Son also to have life in himself" (John 5:26). "The living Father has sent me and I live by the Father" (John 6:58). "Philip, he that seeth me, seeth the Father also. How sayeth thou, Shew us the Father? Do you not believe that I am in the Father and the Father in me?" (John 14:9, 10.) Hence it is that Christ is the Utterance of God (John 1:1), the Image of God (II Cor. 4:4), the Radiance of God's splendour and the very expression of His being (Heb. 1;3), the Light of God (John 1:9), the Way to God: "No man cometh to the Father but by me" (John 14:6). Yet in spite of this perfect equality, the Son is sent by His Father, and receives commands from His Father. "Do you say of him whom the Father. hath sanctified and sent into the world: Thou blasphemest, because I said, I am the Son of God?" (John 10:36.) "Thou hast sent me into the world" (John 17:18). After the conversation with the Samaritan woman at the well, the apostles urged Him to eat: "But he said to them: I have meat to eat; which you know not. The disciples therefore 'said one to an-other: Hath any man brought him to eat? Jesus said to them: M_y meat is to do the will of him that sent me, that~I may perfect his work"' (John 4:32-35). His very life, His sustenance and strength consisted in d, oing His Father's will and work. The Father even commands Him; at the very end of the discourse about the Good Shepherd, our Lbrd said: "This commandment have I re- March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE ceived bf my father," (John 10:18), and the commandmbnt ap-pears to be that He should be the Good Shepherd, who lays down His life for His sheep. Just before going, to Gethsemani, He said: "But that the world may know that I love the Father, and as the Father hath given me commandment, so do I: Arise let us go hence" (John 14:31). And Of his whole sojourn in the. world, at the end He said: "I have glorified thee on the earth; I have finished the work which thou gav, est me.to do" (John 7:4). Now, of course, the giving of a command can only be because Christ is man; and. yet the commandment, like the sending, reflects the eternal relation between Father and Son. It is the Son who is sent, not the Father: not sent as a servant by a master, nor even as a king might be sent to war by advisers and counsellors; but sent somewhat as a flower is sent forth by a .plant. The temporafl sending, with its resultant presenc,e in a different way--f.6r Christ as God is present everywhere, but as man only in Palestine--re-flects the eternal relation of origin from the Father (St. Thomas, Summa, 1, Q. 43,-a.1). The Father could not be sent, because He is Father; and, although all that He has is the Son's, neverthe- .less that "all He has" and even the divine being is the Son's, al-ways with the relationship of originating from the Father. As of the sending, so too of 'the obedience. That too arises naturally from the eternal relationsh'ip between Father and Son; for as the 'Son originates from the Father in very being, so too do all His thinking and His willing. What our Lord wanted was what or-iginated in the Father, and He could not want anything whatever' which did not originate in the Father. Thus His obedience reflects his eternal relationship to ,the Father and is a manifestation to us of that. mysterious unity of being and nature which yet admits distinctive of persons. Through our Lord's unity with God by obedience in his incarnate life, we are led on to know his unitY with God in His divine life. , OUR OBEDIENCE AND OUR SHARE IN THE LIFE OF GOD Very often obedience is thought of as a matter of our owrl effort, something we must do, and do with striving and resolution. We must, indeed; nevertheless, obedience is a gift of God. As the Father gave all things to His Son," even t6 having absolutely the same will, so, too, if we are to have absolutely the same will as our Father and as Christ, we must receive it of the Father, through the Son, and in the Holy Ghost. For to have the same will "as God 73 BERNARD LEEMING Reoiew for Religious means that we become sharers in God's nature, as Christ our Lord truly was God and showed it by doing the works of His Father, -while yet remaining a distinct person. There was unity of nature, ot: doing and accomplishing: they willed absolutely the same and tl~is willing the same reflected the unity of being which was theirs. So too our, coming to bare the same will as God can only arise from a unity of being. God's will" IS Himself: He does not change, to-day wanting one thing, tomorrow another; but from all eternity He is His will; and, 'though in time His will is accomplished in different acts, those acts only reflect the will that was unchanging from eternity and conform the changing to the Eternal. "The Father who abidetb in me, He dotb the works" can become true of us, likewise, but only because of the gift of God of Himself, the gift of His abiding in us. And that God should abide in us, surely that is His free gift to us, which no effort of our own could at-tain and no prayer of ours--apart from His desire told to us-- could aspire to ask. God is God and man is man, but His surpass-ing gift is that we should truly become sharers in the divine nature (II Peter 1:4) and hence sharers in His divine will, sent forth from Him as Son and Holy Ghost are sen,t forth, yet completely and utterly one with Him always. This is one of the greatest gifts that God gives us in our vo-cation as religious, to enable us~ to share in that complete self-giv-ing which is the life of the Blessed Trinity, to be enabled to give to Him our last self-possession, our own will and judgment, and by giving it to Him, to receive it back from Him glorious, and divinized,.part even of Himself. "And the glory which thou hast given me, I have given to them; that they may be one, as we also are one: I in them, and thou in me; that they may be made perfect in one" ~Jobn 17:23). "To leave the world and give up exterior pos-sessions," says St. Gregory, "is possibly easy to some; but for a man to give up himself, to immolate what is most precious to him by.surrendering his entire liberty is a much more arduous task; to forsake what one has is a small thing: to forsake what one is, that is the supreme gift" (Horn. 32, MPL 76 col. 1233). And it isthe supreme gift, because it most reflects the life of the Blessed Trinity. Our obedience is grounded upon faith. Military obedience-- aport from the subjective motive of individuals--is based upon practical necessity and utility: someone must decide, and there is not. time to explain the reasons for the decision to each soldieL Without obedience, there would be confusion and defeat. Never- 74 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE theless, military obedience has its limits. Of certain soldiers who refused to obey it was said that "they were to~ intelligent to get themselves killed just to prove that some general was a fool." That is one reason why General M~ntgomery in his book on generalship declares that "it is part of the art of command to inspire and main-tain confidence in the soldiers, and why in his battles he explained a great deal of his plans to the soldiers. But religious obedience has a different basis. It is true that obedience does make for efficient work, for order, for unity. But this is not the reason ultimately why religious obey. We obey because we belieoe, believe that it is God who speaks to us in the person of our superior, and that, consequently, when we do the superior's will, we do God's will and hence are united to God. In this sense, obedience is not a means to an end; it is an end in itself; for by faith we believe that in uniting ourselves to the superior's will we unite ourselves to God's own will, and unity with God is not a means to anything else. This, naturally, supposes that we obey from love of God, git)ir~q ourselves to God in obedience; and thus the utility of doing what we are told to do does not enter in; whatever the effect of what we do, here and now by obeying I am united to God; and, in the absolutely ultimate result, the effect must be good, no matter what the immediate effects. Obedience is like faith. Often, though we know it is fully reasonable to believe, the obscurity of faith comes home to us: hoto can it be that Christ is present beneath the appearances of a wafer? How can a good God permit so many evils? Neverthless, this ob-scurity does not shake our faith, though it may afflict the imagina-tion and the power of reasoning. We know that He is King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and that His dwelling is in unapproach-able light; no human eye has ever seen Him or can ever see Him (I Tim. 6:16). We know that "my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor your ways my ways: for as the heavens are ex-alted above the earth, so are my ways exalted above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts" (Isaias 4:8, 9). Nothing could shake our faith, because it is God whom we believe. Now, similarly, our obedience like our faith involves obscurity. How could God be represented by one so ignorant, prejudiced, and unlikable? How could God ratify so stupid a policy, one based on complete ignor-ance of the conditions? How can God permit this situation to con-tinue, when His own interests are at stake? Such obscurities may indeed trouble our imaginations and even our powers of reasoning; 5 'BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religio-s nevertheless they cannot shake the deep conviction that in obeying this superior, in this policy, in this mariner of proceeding, I am obeying God Himself; I am doing His will, arid notthe ignorant, stupid, or prejudiced will of any creature. My obedience rests on the faith that believes God does act thro,ugh creatures, that He is immanent to creatures and-not afar off. St. Margaret Mary had revelations from our Lord, revelations approved by the Church afterwards; and yet our Lord said to her that she should prefer th'e will of her superiors to a'fly command of His. W~e' look with ey,es of faith, not upon a weak creature, but upon the infinitely holy and infinitely wise God of all consolation, who acts in and through the creature. Blessed Claude de la Colombi~re once wrote: "A Superior may 'govern badly, but it is impossible that G~d should not govern you well by means of him. My dear Sister, let that be your deepest conviction. For if you do not', base yourself firmly on this prin-ciply, you are losing your time in religion: for your whole life is nothing but obedience, arid this obedience.is meritless unless offered to God in the person whom He has put in place of Himself. A:nd we certainly do not turn our gaze on God when we undertak'e to judge, examine and above all to condemn what is commanded us. When it is the Holy Ghost who possesses us, He inspires us with the simplicity of a child who finds everything good and everything reasonable; or. if you prefer, with a divine prudence which discov-ers God in everything,' and recogmzes Him in. all those who rep-resent Him, even in those who are poorest in virtue and in natural and supernatural qualities." (Oeut;res, VII, 109-10, 1853 ed.) = ,In those words Blessed Claude expressed part of the gift of obedience: the inspiration of the Holy Ghost to make us simple, to give us supernatural prudence to see God truly in superiors. St. Catherine of Siena, in her delightful Dialogue ot~ Obedience (trans-lated by Algar Thorold). insists greatly on faith being the means of obedience and teaches likewise that we may progress in obedi-ence. God speaks and says to her: "Now I wish thee to see and know this most excellent virtue in that humble and immaculate Lamb, and the source whence it proceeds. What caused the great obedience of the Word? The love which He had for My honour and your salvatiofi. Whence proceeded this love? From the clear vision with which His soul saw the divine essence and the eternal Trinity, thus always looking on Me, the eternal G6d. His fidelity obtained this vision for Him, and most perfectly, ~ which vision you 76 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE imperfectly enjoy by th~ light,of holy faith" (Ch. 135). And thig vision both comes through obedience and fosters obedience. "Does the weight of obedience," she asks, "cause the obedient man pain? No, for he has trampled on his own will and does not care to ex-amine or, judge the will of his superior, for with the light of faith he sees My will !in him, believing truly that My clemency causes him to dommand according to the needs of his subject's sal-vation" (Ch. 140). "Obedience gives a !ight in the soul, which shows whether she is faithful to Me and her order and superior, in which light of holy faith she forgets hersel£; for by the obedience which she has ac-quired through the light of faith, she shows that her will is dead' to its own feeling, and seeks the advantage of others and not her own. Just as the disobedient man who examines the will, of his superior, may ju.dge~it according to his own low opinion and dark-ened knowled~ge instead of judging his own perverse will which' gives him death, the truly obedient man, illumined by faith, judge's ~the will of his superior to be good, and therefore does not examine it, but inclines his bead and nourishes his soul with the odour of true and holy obedience. And this virtue increases in the soul in proportion to the shinin~.l of the light of fhith, with which the soul knows herself, and Me, whom she loves, and humbles her-self; and the more she loves Me and humbles herself, the more obedient she becomes, for, obedience, and her sister patience prove whether the soul is in truth Clothed with the nuptial garment of charity, which is necessary to enter into eternal life" (Cb. 44). St. Teresa of Avila also declares that obedience is something like a treasure in a mine, Which can only be. dug out gradually and progressively. Speaking of the treasure of complete union with God, she says: "Bellevue me, then there is no better way of finding this treasure than that of toiling and digging so as to draw it forth from the mine of obedience; for the more we dig the more we shall find, and the more we ,subject ourselves to men, having no other will but that of those who are over us, the more we shall master our will so as to conform it to the will of God:' (Foundations, Ch. 5).,~ St. Ignatius of ~oyola puts three degrees of obedience: the first, when wi actually do what we are c6mmanded; the second, when wedo it willingly; and the third, when we submt.t our understandL ing to the superior's and come to have the,lsame judgment as bis: Now these are not necessarily stages through iwhich we hi~ve to pass, 77 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious though indeed they.may be kinds of stages through which we pass; but they clearly indicate divisions into which obedience may fall. It is possible to do what we are ordered but to rebel interiorly, or even to grumble and complain and yet carry out the order. It is possible also to cajole a superior into agreement with what we want. This is indeed a certain kind of obedience. Then there_is willingness ,in obedience: to do the thing promptly, perseveringly, and putting our best efforts into it to make it suc'ceed. But the highest degree is' had when we agree with the superior's mind and have the same view and ~outlook on the thing aS he has. It is clear that this last most closely approaches to the obedience of'Christ to His Father: His docffine, was not His own, but His Father's. He judges with the Father; He does not speak of Himself, but as the Father gives Him to speak; and He is the very word of the Father, the expression of the Father, the very mind of the Father: He and His Father are one. If the superior represents God for us, then no lower standard than our Lord's obedience to His Father can content us. How is it possible to be united in mind with a superior who is stupid," unwise, and imprudent in his commands? Christ could obey His Father absolutely because His Father was absolute truth; absolute wisdom; but how can we conform our minds to one who is by no means absolute truth or wisdom? The answer is that where the superior commands, we unite our wills and minds with his exactly insofar as he commands, not necessarily insofar as his command is designed to attain a particu-lar purpose. The purpose of the command is not part of the com-mand. For instance, a provincial superior may order a local superior to be indulgent, or to be severe, with a particular s, ubject. The local superior may on natural' grounds be convinced that i.ndulgence, or severity, is injurious to the subject, that the provincial superior is mistaken in his estimate of the method required. It is here, partly, that the mystery enters; for the theory of obedience holds that the judgment about success or failure is irrelevant: who can tell what, in God's eyes, is success or failure? The order must be obeyed, and in the spirit, with trust in God's over-riding providence: He will bless the obedience, although we cannot see how. For me, I see Christ in the command and that is enough. What does it matter, in the last analysis, about the "success" or "failure" of the policy? God must look to that; and I can leave it to Him, doir~g so the ¯ more trustfully the less I see how He can draw good out of it. 78 March, 1956 THE ~MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE How do we progress in obedience~? Ver~y gener1a1 y at the be, ginning of our religigus life obedience on theI whole is not difficult; there may be strange customs, repugnances to be overcome in ac-commodating ourselves to different points of the Rule. But on the whole, obedience is likely to be taken more or less for granted as part of the religious regime. Nevertheless, sooner or later trials are likely to arise. A superior may not understand us, ol may dis-approve of us; and then obedience can be a very arid affair indeed. There is small comfort in it; and, if one takes literally the superior for God, one is inclined to imagine that a superior's disapproval means God's disapproval. This is not, of'course, strictly irue; for a superior is not judge of our spiritual state, but takes the place of God in telling us what to do. Nevertheless, a superior's disapproval may be a searing trial, especially for some characters; and it is then that one must walk by blind faith, hoping against hope, as it were, that God will bring all right, possessing our soul in patience and bending our minds and wills as best we can. This may be only a purifying trial: to wean us from our purely natural obedience, to prevent us thinking obedience is within our own natural power. Then we can only be faithful, be patient, andtrust God: believing still that He is acting in the superior. But, if we are faithful, the light will surely break through: there can come a certain sense of reverence for God, even in this superior: a sense that we are really held captive by God, and so a certain peace in obeying which is not upset by surges of feeling, whether of depression or of irritation or of rebellion. God is there in spit~ of everything; and somehow fears begin to vanish: in sick-ness or in.health, in success or failure: "For I know whom I have believed, and I am certain that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him, against that day" (II Tim. 1:12). Our trans-formation into Christ proceeds; and His obedience begins to seem a reality to us, and self-will, self-settlement, self-judgment begin to fade away. The memory, the imagination, and even the reason-ing powers may play tricks; but the calm conviction remains that it is good for me to cleave to the Lord, and that at the head of my book it is written that I should do Thy Will, O God. And here it may be well to return to another aspect of Christ's obedience; an aspect which shows how obedience made Him our °saving Victim, and how obedience will unite us to Him in a u~nion truly trarisforming. , 79 BERNARD LEEMING Reoiew for Religio'us CHRIST'S OBEDIENCE AND.THE REDEMPTION OF MANKIND Our Saviour's obedience was neither negative nor passive; He did not merely abstain from forbidden things, nor-did He, as it were, merely wait on events and allow Himself to be governed' by them. It w, as not the case that He came to endure death, and in consequence merely waited for the Jews to come and kill ,Him. On the contrary, His obedience was positive and active. 'He knew in-deed the inevitable end, but He knew that end was to come only as'a consequence of His active obedience to His Father's command to be the Good Sh.epherd. He journeyed from Nazareth to Caphar-nauru through Galilee, up to Cesarea Philippi, nearer Damascus than Jerusalem, and to Bethsaida, and through Sar;aaria, and to Jericho and Jerusalem, probably more than once. Pharisees were attracted to him from every town of Galilee, Judea, and Jerusalem (Luke 5:17). He gathered twelve apostles and seventy-two d~isciples and instructed them. He ,taught the people in the synagogues, in the tqwns, in the fields, on the mountain sides, by the lake sides, His energy and His force, the power he had, roused the fear of thd chief priests and the Jews, and they said: "Do you" see that we preva, il nothing? behold the whole world is gone after him" (John 12:19). He rebuked their hypocrisy fiercely and fearlessly. He drove the buyers and sellers from the temple, "and the disciples remembered that it was written 'The zeal of thy house hath eaten meoUP' " (John 2:17). The Jews put spies to report His words, and to lay traps for Him (Luke 20:19-20). "This command 'have I received'frdm my F'athe~," a command to spread the truth and the charit,y of His Father, even if in ful-filling that command He was to provoke the enmi'ty of the wicked and to draw down death unto Himself. About ,this obedience of Christ, St. Thomas puts the objection: ,"The will of God is not for the death Of ,men, even of sinners, but rather for their life, as Ezechiel ~ays:'I will not the death ofthe sinner but tl~at he should b~ converted and live. Much less then could it have been thd will of God the Father that the most perfect of .all men should be sub-jected to death." And ~he answers: "Although the will of God is 'not for the death of any man, nevertheless God-wills the virtue by which a. man bravely endures death and from charity exposes him-self to the peril of death. And in this.sense was the will of God for the death of Christ, in as much as Christ incurred the risk of death from charity and bravely endured death" (Contra Gentiles, 4, 55, ad 15). "As the Father has given me commandment, so 80 (¢larch, 1956 THE MYSTIC.ISM OF ~)BEDIENCE do I." Christ incurred the risk of death-not by passivity,' but by an activity which provoked opposition, by an actiVity which upset the whole of 3udaea and Palestine. Thus our Lord's obedience was vibrant with energy and was most complete.ly in accord with the mind and intentions and desire of His Father. He and the Father were one, in very being, though not in person; and when the Son became man among men there was One who gave to the most loving God the rndst energetic and loving service and praise, and gave it not on.ly for God's sake, but. for man's sake. It was by His obedience that Christ redeemed the world: "for as by the disobedience of one man," says St. Paul, "th~ many were made sinners; so also by the obedience of one, the many shall be made just" (Rom. 5:19). Surely a great mystery, that the destiny of us all should be so linked with the obedience or dis-obedience of two men: a mystery reflected in minor degree by the mysterious fact that we are all to some degree dependent upon one another in so many ways. It was because of obedience that Christ received the name Jesus. St. Paul tells us" that God in his fore-knowledge of the obedience unto death had given Him the name above all names (Phil. 2:8, 9).; and the angel ordered St.Joseph "and thou shalt call Hi~ name Jesus, ~for He shall save his people from their sins" (Matt. 1:21). Because He was obedient unto death, therefore He has that name above all names: Jesus the obedi-ent, Jesus the Saviour. And because of that same obedience He is a priest forever. Our redemption was accomplished by the sacrifice of Christ, pr.ecisely because that sacrifice was an expression of the 'most ab-solute submission of the will of the Incarnate Son of God to the will of God. St. paul puts it in chapter ten of his letter to the Hebrews: "For it is impossible that the blood of bulls and goats should take away sin. Hence he saith When entering into the world: Sacrifice and offering thou hast not desired. But thou hast pierced ~ars for me (a body thou hast prepared for ine). In holocausts and sin-offerings thou hast taken no pleasure: Then I said: Behold I am come (In the volume so it is written of me) To do, O God, thy will. In virtue of this 'will' we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus once for all" (Heb. 10:4 ff., Boylan's, transla-tion in the Westminster versiorl). The line quoted by St. Paul from Ps. 39: "thou has pierced ears for me" is given thus in the Hebrew and in the Douay: but St. Paul probably quoted from the Septuagint. The piercing of ears 81 BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religiod's means the power of listening to God and hence of obeying Him. We find the same usage in English. Children are told by their mothers, "You will not listen to me"--you will not accept my advice nor do what I want; and children in turn think it wrong "not to listen .to me muther." What pleased God in Christ was the complete acceptance of His divine will: the highest offering to God is the offering of the whole b~ing to do His will; and, because it was a divine Person who made that offering with the uttermost perfec-tion as a man on earth, and made it for our sakes, to fulfill God's will that we might be .sanctified, we therefore all receive the power of being made holy through the sacrifice of Christ. There is yet another m~stery in this obedience of Christ: al-though He was God's own Son and knew perfectly His Father's will and loved that will, nevertheless He feels repugnance in the actual carrying of it into effect. One might perhaps imagine that' one so infinitely holy as our Lord would be so lifted up that there would be no feeling of recoil or repugnance from whatever His loving Father willed. Yet we know it was not so. When He was riding to Jerusalem just before the last Passover, certain Gr.eeks wanted to see Him, and He spoke of the underlying mystery of His life and death: "Unless the grain of wheat falling into the ground die, itself remaineth alone. But if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it, and he that hateth his life in this world, keepeth it unto life eternal" and then, mys-teriously, "Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I sa.y? Father, save me from this hour. But for this cause I came unto this hour" (John 12:27). How can He pray His Father to save Him from the pain and suffering and death, when it was precisely to endure them that He came? And yet, His very soul is distressed; it is an anticipation of the agony in the garden, when He "began to fear and t6 13e heavy, and he said to them, 'My soul is sorrowful even unto death' . . . and he fell flat on the ground; and he prayed, that.if it might be, the hour might'pass from him. !~nd he sayeth, Abba, Father, all things ar~ possible, to thee: remove this c~halice from me; but. not what I will, but what thou wilt" (Mark 14:33-35). What His Father willed was not to be fulfilled directly between Him and His Father, but through people like Judas, Annas, Caiphas, Pilate, the Jewish mob, and the Roman soldiers; and it means not only physical suffering but denial of justice, denial of a fair bear-ing'of what He had to say, and. to say not so much for Himself 82 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE but for His Father, for God; 'it meant acceptance of that humanly mysterious providence of God which_ permits so much evil. Our Lord was a real man, with all a man's feeling, instincts, natural reactions: His divinity did not derogate in the least fro'm the full-ness of His humanity. Consequently, He experienced the ifistinc-. tive recoil of the feelings against pain and against death; further, even His natural reason and intellectual choice judged that death and rejection were hateful and in themselves to be avoided, and so His prayer was "if it be possible; let this chalice pass." St: Thomas tells us that our Lord prayed so to show us the reality of His human nature and to show that it is permissible, according merely to natural impulses to wish what God does not wish ("ut ostenderet quod homini iicet secundum naturalem affectum aliquid velle quod Deus non vult," Summa, 3, (~.21,a.2). Nevertheless the absolute choice; when all is conside.re.d, goes out straight to God's will, however repugnant to instincts and feeling and merely natural judgment (Summa, 3, Q. 18,a.6), and is in a sense the more united to God's will, because with His human will He ap-proves the instinctive reluctance of human 'nature, is glad to find it hard; and thus He can make the offering .of submission most truly as a man and with the fullness of His manhood. Not, in-deed, that these natural recoils against the horrors of the Passion in any way divided Christ in Himself, or lessened His glorious ac- ¯ ceptance of His Father's will, or blurred in any way the clearness of His vision--as fears and hopes and emotions do in us; never-theless, He felt the difficulties, even mental, just as acutely and more acutely than we could do, just as He could suffer physical pain as we do, and feel it more acutely. St. Paul spea.ks of Christ's obedience in a,way in which per-haps we might hesitate to do; he says: "Christ during his earthly life, offered prayer and entreaty to the God who could .save him from death, not without a piercing cry, not without tears; yet with. such piety as won him a hearing. Son of God though be was, he learned obedience in the school of suffering, and now, his full achievement reached, he wins eternal salvation for all those who render obedience to him" (Heb. 5:7-9, Knox tr.). St. Thomas, in his commentary on this text, makes this ob-jection: "To learn things, presupposes that one is ignorant of them. But Christ from all eternity~ being God, and even a's man from the first instant of His conception knew everything and had the fullness of knowledge. Consequently, since He knew every- 83 BERNARD LEEMING ~ Reoieto for Religious thing, how can it be said that He learned ,things?" . St." Thom, as answers': "There is a double kind of knowledge, the first being simple awhreness of the truth, and in this sense~Christ was ignorant of nothing. But there is also the knowledge begotten of experience, and according to this Paul says 'He learned from what He suffered [or in the school of experience]',' that is by actu-ally °experiencing. And the Apostle speaks thus because he who learns anything must willingly put himself in a position to learn it. Now Christ willingly took to Himself our weakness; and hence Paul says 'he learned obedience,' that is, how hard it is to obey, becauseoHe obeyed in most onerous and difficult matters, even to the death of the cross. And here he shows how difficult it is to attain the good of obedience. Because they who have not experi-enced obedience and have not learned it in difficult matters, believe that to obey is very easy. But in'fact to grasp what obedience really is, one has to learn to obey in difficult affairs, and he who has'not learned by'obedience to be subject, never knows how to command well and be a superior. Christ, therefore, although from eternity he knew by simple awareness what obedience was, nevertheless learned by experience obedience from what He suffered, that is, in. actual difficulties, through suffering and death" (Cornmentartl in Hebrews, ad loc.). But there is yet a greater myster~ here. The prayers of Christ, His tears, His entreaty to God who could save Him from death, these are not merely individual: they are His as head of the body, as forming one with us. He prays, entreats, weeps, ~uffers .for us and with us. S~. Gregory~Nazianzus says that w.hen Christ prayed upon the cross: "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me?'" He spoke in the person of all mankind; and adds that this text about learning obedience must be understood in the same way: ':Having taken the nature of a slave, He condescends to enter fully into the life of His fellow-slaves and of slaves generally; and assumes a form different from His own, bearin'g the whole of me and all that I am within Himself, in order that in Himself. He may melt away my lower self, as fire the wax and the sun the morning mists, in order that I, through fusion with Him, may take in exthangeall that is His. Hence in very deed does He honour obedience and make trial of it in suffering. For the mere intention was not enough, just as it is not enough for us, unless we 'carry it out in act. For the act is the proof of the intention. Nor would it be far wrong to" understand that. He experienced our obedience and measured all 84 March, 1956 '~. THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE human things by, His own sufferings, and did so because of ,His affection and love for men: so that He.can estimate our experiences by His own, and reckon by suffering and weakness how much to demand of us and how much to yield to ,our infirmity" (Oratio Theologica 1, n.6; Migne Patres Graeci, 36, col. 109, 112). It was not He alone who was saved from death, but,the whole Of mankin~l who are united to Him, for whom He prayed, for whom He obeyed, "and offered His sacrifice. St. Leo says that the cross was the altar on ~vhich "through that saving victim the of-fering of the whole of ,human nature was a, ccomplished" (Sermo c.3; M.P.L. 54, 324). He ,bears "the whole of me and"all that I am within Himself" and offers His obedience for me to make up for my failures, to transfuse my dull and murky obedience with the radiance of His infinitely glorious obedience; and to* do the same for the, whole of mankind, becoming "hostiam. puram, hostian~ sanctam, bostiam immaculatam'" a sacrifice wholly sincere, holy, immaculate, and hence utterly acceptable to God for all of us. OUR OBEDIENCE AND OUR UNION WITH CHRIST THE SAVIOUR Our Lord is very explicit that "I am the way, the truth and the life. No man cometh to the Father, but by me." .It is only Christ who sends the iSpirit of God (John 16:7) and even the Spirit of God "receiveth of Christ's and shows it to us (John 16 : 15). "And because you are sons God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts'" (Gal. 4:9). "God has sent his only begotten Son into the world that we may live by him" (I John 4:9). There is no way in which we can go to God except in. Christ. There is no right manner of praying which neglects the Incariaate Word, or so tries to dispense with images or use of the imagination 'that-it passes over Jesus of Nazareth. There is no true mysticism save that Which is based upon faith in Jesus Christ. Now our Lord greatly commends obediencd to us. "Whoever shall do "the will of my Father, 'that is in heaven, he is my brother, and sister, and mother" (Matt 12:50). Even His own dear~other was dear to Him most of all because she "heard the word of God" and kept it (Luke 9:28). "Fie that bath my commandments and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me. And he that loveth me shall be lox)ed of my Father: and I will love Jaim': and will manifest myself to him." Our Lord could not make us a greater promise than to be~loved of His-FatheL to be Ioved.by Him, and to receive a manifestation, a re;celation of our Lord" Himself. BERNARD LEEMING Review [or Religious Based~upon these promises, to our Lord, the saints most strongly commend obedience to us'. St. Teresa says: "I believe that since Satan sees there is no road that leads more quickly to the highest perfection than this of obedience, he suggests many difficulties under the colour of some good, and makes it distasteful: let people look well into it, and they will see plainly that I am telling the truth. Wherein lies the highest perfection? It is clear that it does not lie in interior delights, not in great raptures, not in visions, not in the spirit of prophecy, but in the conformity of our will to the will of God, so that there shall be nothing we know He wills that we do not will ourselves with our whole will, and accept the bitter as joyfully as the sweet, knowing it to be His Majesty's will" (Fodndations, ch. 5). The reason for this statement, that our, union with God is in ~vill rather than in any perceptions that belong to our intellectual fac.ulties, seems to be this: anything that we know, we know accord-ing to our o.wn mind; the object known comes into our mind and necessarily to some extent takes on the shape of our mind, and hence shares in the limitations of our mind. The mind assimilates to itself the object known, and in so doing limits the obje'ct in some way. Consequently, we can only know God by means of comparisons, indirectly: in this life we cannot see God directly as He is, because be is too great for our minds to take in. -But the will is different from the intellect in that it does not ~bape the object by drawing the object into itself, but ,rather goes out to the object as it is in itself; the will therefore does not limit the object by its own limitations as the mind do~s. It follows from this, tb_at, although we cannot know God, in this life, exactly as He is, nevertheless we can love God Himself exactly as He is, be-cause our minds can get to God truly ~nd hence our wills can go out to God insofar as He is truly represented in oflr minds, and not insofar as the mind obscures God by imperfect, indirect knowl-edge. I can love a person, even though I do not knov¢ him thor-ougbly: I can know him enough to love him, and it is he himself that I love, and not my own imperfect conception of him. Hence, in this life our union with God is primarily a uni6n of will, although since man is one whole, that union of will reacts upon the intellect and upon all the powers of the soul, and bell~s to greater perception and awareness. One cannot be united to God in will without somehow coming to be aware of that~ fusion of wills and thus coming into almost direct contact with God Him- 86 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE self. St. Catherine of Siena was told that "the truly obedient man , always retains the desire of submission, and that this desire is like an inward refrain of music" (quoted by Marmion from the Dialogue~ on Obedience : Christ the Ideal of the Monk, p. 262). In this way, obedience is really a form of contemplation, simple, easy, and effective; and not wearisome to the bead. "This is what I am or-dered to do. It is God's will for me. I do it. That is God. That is all." Nor is this hindered if our obedience is very active, even if in obedience we must use initiative and ingenuity and resource. It is then that the very powers of the mind are given to God, wl~at intelligence we may have, what force of character, what gift of imagination, even what magnetism we may have to attract others. These are given to God, through the hands of the human beings who represent Him, and used gladly as we are directed~ because there is great security in using all our gifts as the mind of God, represented by a human superior, directs. Nothing could be m6re mistaken than to take the comparisons 9ften used by the saints, of a d~ad body, or an old man's staff, and apply them beyond their real application. They are not used to indicate complete passivity, but to indicate that we make no resistance to being moved from this house to the other, from this post to the other, or, even, that we are content if obedience makes no use of our talents at all. They in-dicate that we are completely dead and nothing but a walking stick as regards our own peculiar ideas when they clash with the su-perior's. Perhaps if the saints bad known of bose pipes, with a strong and full pressure of water in them, they might have used the comparison of a hose pipe which could be turned in this direc-tion or that, made to'give a heavy stream of water or a narrow jet, according as the bands holding it directed. The comparisons mean that the force and power which God may- bare given us is placed utterly in the control of the superior, as representing God; and that by faith we believe that the only good result will come from the union of that force and powe.r with the will of God as interpreted to us by His representative. . Here, too, enters what is called blind obedience. Now to inter-pret blind obedience as unintelligent, stupid obedience would be itself unintelligent and stupid. The more intelligent people are the more they must use their intelligence in order to obey well. The blindness only comes in after all due representations bare been made --and it is part of the duty of obedience to make reasonable repre- BERNARD LEEMING Review for Religious sentations, even to make them forcibly on .occasion-- and the su-perior orders us to do something with which our natural reason does not agree, for which we cannot see the reasons or the reason-ableiaess. It is then that we must be carried by an impulse of the will, blind to natural reasons, desirous only of conforming the understanding to the mind of the superior. And mtich can be done in this way: to close our mental ears to contrary reasonings, to look at it from the superior's side, and to make ourselves well af-fected to our superior. We cannot, of course, assent contrary to the known truth; but often the truth about the wisdom of a course of action can be perceived differently according to the antecedent state of mind in which we train ourselves, and according to the way we allow our minds toact. If we have opened our minds to the reve-lation of 6ur Lord beneath the deficiencies of the human agent, then it is easier to see God's will in what may naturally only look like ignorance, prejudice, favouritisrri, or vanity, So often it happens that lack of the spirit of obedience leads to narrow and restricted views. Obedience can and does take the ,long view. God's providence works oddly. Perhaps God sometimes 'wishes a poor superior, an incompetent superior, in order to use them as a lesson for subjects, or perhaps one special subject, a lesson to teach them what to do, and ~hat not to do, when they themselves are superiors! And to oppose that superior, to magnify his defects, to allow feelings to become ruffled, or depression to take possession of the 'spirit--this is Clearly to oppose God Himself, contrary to what we have promised Him." Perhaps God wants a certain 'work to fail, and to fai.1 precisely through our most obedient efforts and strivings, in order'to obtain some greater good of which we cannot be aware. In this sense, it is perfectly true that obedience, although. its proper fruit may seem to be to perfect the will, :nevertheless also perfects the understanding: it gives the understanding length and breadth and depth, conforming it to the infinite wisdom and knowl-edge of God. Often only in retrospect are we able to see that it was not only virtuous to obey, but was very wise, also. "Because you are conscious within yourselves," says St. Ig-natius of Loyola, "that you have undergone this yoke of obedi-ence for the love of God, to the end that you might, in following the Superior's will, more assuredly follow the divine, will; doubt not, but that the mgst faithful charity of our Lord continually directs you and .leads you in the right Way" by the hands of those whom He gives you for Superiors.''~ 88 March, 1956 THE MYSTICISM OF OBEDIENCE This yoke of obedience: it can indeed bear heavily, it ban chafe and sometimes cut, and force us to go on and on dragging a weari-some burden. Christ Hirhself'felt the burden, and even prayed that it might be lifted from Him. And yet to Him, His Father's charity was faithful, most faithful; and even through the hands of Annas and Caiphas, of Judas and of Pilate, that faithful charity of His Father led Christ in that right way that led to our salvation. Christ obeyed for me. Christ }rusted His father for me. Christ loved me and delivered Himself for met delivered Himself for me not only that my sins migh}: be forgiven, that grace might come to me, but als'o that to me might come the honour of sharing His obedience with Him, of offering the noblest part of me to His Father with His offering, even of making myself one with His self-giving for the redemption~ of mankind. Nothing so unites us to Christ as Obedience;. for perfect obedi-ence gives to Him our liberty, our memory, and our very under-standing. What more" have we that we can give? And this giving is the most perfect charity: if you love me,. keep my commandments. Yet we give them in such simple, often almost commonplace, ways: doing what we are told, be it great or small, be it important or un: important, be it hard or easy. Nevertheless, if we do gi.ve our whole selves to Him in this simplicity of obedience, be sure that His most faithful charity does stay~ with us. Gradually He ta.kes us all: our remnants of self-contentment, our rags of pride, our dirtiness of devious self-seeking; of all these and suchlike His faithful charity gradually strips us: a pain at once and yet a joy, He is meek and humble of heart, even in His purifying of us to make us more fit to share with Him in His unutterably pure sacrifice to God. ,,He fills us with His own love of His Father. He gives us sometimes to feel something of that. joy with which He went to His Father. He allows us sometimes to see that His saving work goes on, even thrbugh me, even through me: but yet not through me, only through Him, and I spoil it, and yet He does not let me Spoil it quite, because it is truly He who obeys in me, and His obeying is of infinite love, even God's own love, The mystery of obedience: it is the mystery °of Christ; the mystery of the Blessed Trinity, in whom all is one, even to the blessedness qf giving of the WhOle and yet" receiving, of the Whole". And yet, it is quite simple: "If you love me, keep my command-_ ments. BERNARD LEEMING To conclude, then: ! 1. Obedience is a good in itself, and not for any utilitarian purpose, because obedience in itself unites me to God; and unity with God is an end in itself. 2. Obedience reflects the unity of Christ with His Father and reflects the divine life in Him. So it does likewise in me. 3. It is through obedience, as such, and not through human advantages secured by obedience, that Christ redeemed us. It is through obedience that we share His redeeming mission, share His power to save souls. 4. Progress in obedience means progress in union with Christ and means, too, greater accomplishment in our redemptive union with Him. With Christ we are co-workers in redemption; but that co-working (s, first and middle and last, union in His obedience. 5. Conkequently, let us pray for opportunities of obedience: that we may do each task because God commands it, that we may find our love and our life in doing His will. If the commands are simple, thank God; if they are difficult--perhaps removal from an office, perhaps subordination to an uncongenial senior--thank God more, for what else" are we for but to obey? SUMMER SESSIONS The Institute for Religious at College Misericordia, Dallas, Pennsylvania (a three-year summer course of twelve days in canon law and ascetical theology for siste.rs), will be held this year August 20-31. This is the first year in the triennial course. The'course in canon law is given by the Reverend 3osepb F. Gallen, S.2'., that in ascetical theology by the Reverend Daniel 2. M. Callahan, S.2., both of Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. The registration is restricted to higher superiors, their councilors, general and provincial officials, mistresses of novices, and those in similar positions. Applications are to be addressed to the Reverend doseph F. Gallen, S.2., Woodstock College, Woodstock, Md. Gonzaga University offers three summer institutes for religious women only. These institutes were inspired by the recent emphasis on the religious formation of sisters. The topics and dates for the institutes are: moral direction for others~ dune 19-30; understanding human nature, 2'uly 2-13; personal holiness, 2.uly 16-27. Gonzaga also offers two institutes for priests only; one on sacred eloquence, the other on-the psychology of the adolescent. For further information write to the Reverend Leo 2". Robinson, S.3., Gonzaga University, Spokane 2, Washington. 90 Sist:ers' Ret:reat:s--I I Thomad Dubay, S.M. APPROACH TO SUB3ECT MATTER |N this second article on our sisters' retreat survey, we will discuss I the retreat master's approach to his subject matter. The first of the questions asked the sisters dealt with the technique the re-treat master uses in setting forth his tea.ching. We can convey what is here meant~ in no better way than by, reproducing the question just as it was asked.To avoid needless repetition, we will indicate the sisters' choices together with the statement of the survey question. Which of the following emphases in meditation exposes do you usually prefer? __many quotations from Sacred Scripture . 27 4.0%) __intellectual explanation of doctrine, principles, etc .115 16.9 %) __emotional approach (stress on beautiful images, language, etc.) .o . :'. . 4 .6%) ____combination of first and second . 195 (28.6%) ¯ __combination of first and third . 16 (2.3%) __combination of Second and third . 28 (4.1%) __mixture of all three . 297 (43~.5%) Further comment: (space p.rovided) From this data several conclusions seem unavoidable: 1. Almost none of the sisters (.6%) want stress placed on the emotions alone. 2. The group of sisters who want any notable stress placed on the emotions is decidedly small (7%). This conclusion is reached by combining categories 3, 5, and 6. 3. The vast majority (91.3%) want emphasis placed on solid intellectual content whatever the combination of emphases might be. This con, clusion is obtained by combining groups 2, 4, 5, and 7. 4. A large minority (45.5%) prefer no emotional appeal mixed in with the intellectual. This can be seen by uniting the results from categories 2 and 4. 5. The frequent use~of Sacred Scripture follows the intellectual approach in popularity among the sisters. The comments of the sisters on this problem are both interest-ing and enlightening. All three, but the emotional element ought to be relatively small. If the intellectual explanation is ignored, women's piety tends to becom~ soft, enervated, spineless. A thought-provoking, solid presentation with enough of the emotional to make it spiritually palatable appears best to me. 91 THOMAS DUBAY Reuieu~ for Religious I believe that principles for religious life should be based on .Holy Scripture. It is only too late that one finds the beauty and worthwhile passages in Holy Scripture. Personally, I have, found myself living in close union with God by just one passage studied in the New Testament at meditation or spiritual reading. Let's have intellectual explanation. If the priest has the ability to express his ideas well so much the better. The use of Scriptu.re must be an overflow from the medi-tative life of the speaker. There has been too much emphasis on' the emotional approach, so why not get meditation on a solid basis for a change? Intellectual and emotional--I don't mean sentimental. God made things t0 be beautiful. Why not~ talk about those beautiful things? A balanced mixture with no excess in any one. Flowery language annoys more than appeals, I think, Father; however, a correct, flfient style helps much--language from the heart to the heart--without being dramatic or emotional. Mixture of all. A retreat group made up of different personalities, characters, men~ talkies, etc. needs meditation exposds that will to a certain extent reach all. Beautiful thoughts stay in the memory much longer than cold cut and dry ones. Women love beautiful things, why not give them to us? I dislike retreat masters who key their meditations to the emotions. Probably they do this because they have been led to think women prefer this. I do not find the e~otional approach "stands up" under the r~alistic test of a year in the religlous life, Exposition of the Sacred Scriptures appeals to me as most fruitful for meditation. (Texts on Public Life of Christ.) Some emotion has its place, undoubtedly, but I think to be effective it requires the most complete sincerity on the part of the retreat master--otherwise it only makes one uncomfortable. Some emotional stress helps, but I resent having my emotions obviously played upon. Besides, the emotional effect is most iikely to wear off. I would like to add emotional approach in the original meaning of appeal to the emotions or affections, not sentimentality, but with much intellectual and doctrinal support. Never emotional. ,Meditation becomes more fruitful, more satisfying as knowledge, of the Scriptures and doctrine increases. Quotation from Scriptures is fine IF that quotation is explained. Content thoroughly intellectual. Manner of presentation depending on the indi-vidual's broad reading, conversations, and own conviction and realization (we need some variety here!). Structure stemming from Scripture. All three. ~owever, oratory (?), (shouting, whispering, and dramatic pauses) can be omitted in ALL exposes. God forbid! (emotional approach) It is amazing how all three sprinkled in can provide the "oil" for my own "ma-chinery"-- in other wolds, "the Holy Ghost can work through all three approaches to fit the individual--don't limit the approach and.keep 'em happy! and thinking. 92 March, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS "---II IX view of the sisters' observations just given and the numerical data previously noted, it appears that retreat masters should attempt to tailor their techniques accor~ling to the conclusions we have al-ready indicated. AMOUNT OF THEOLOGY We approach now a much-bandied-about question in the circles of sister formation interests: theology. Here we shall view the problem from the vantage point of retreat content, which, of course, touches upon in-service sister f6rmation. The amount of theology desirable in a retreat and the degree in which the sisters un'derstand it were the objects of two questions, the first of which follows: Do you think that the amount of theology ordinarily presented in retreat meditations is __ekcessive '.2__~too little __about right Further comment :__ A notable majority, 486 (72.6 %), of the sisters are well sails-fled with the amount of theology they ordinarily receive in their rdreats, although a sizeable minority, 171 (25.6%), decidedly think they hear too little. A v~ry small gr0ui~, 12 (1.8%), feel that too much theology is presented. The pres~ent writer has the impression from reading the many replies that the more completely educated sisters tend in greater ,.numbers to want more theology in their retreats, whil'e those with less formal training tend in greater nu~nbers to feel satisfied with the status quo. These tendencies are not, however, universal, for there are sister-teachers in college who are satisfied with retreat theology as it stands and some domestic sisters who desire more. The sisters offered the following comments on' their answers: Representative of those who think the theology is excessive: Excessive because of mixed groups of domestic sisters, etc.; otherwise it would be about right. Sisters who think the theology too little: ' Too much "dry" repetition of elementary data on the fundamentals., Religious should be mature and treated as such. o ¯ The more the better. We need it for .our teaching preparations. I have found it of great advantage when theology was much presented, since I only had an elementary education. Superiors should be advised to give books of theology to read to their sisters, if the confessor appr6ves of it, when a sister desires .it. ' 93 THOMAS DUBAY Revieu~ for Religious \ Many sisters are starved for real spiritual meat which can be satisfied only through theology. For many of the sisters retreat time is the only time they get a chance to get some theology. I don't think xve can get too much! Much too little. In some God is hardly mentioned except as author" of this or that law. And the Holy Ghost not so much as heard of. "Religious who think the amount of theology about right: Some tend to overdo it, but I think it appears excessive only if the retreat master uses too many abstract technical terms. I like points of theology brought out since I never studied it as such. Although it is not too little, there could be more as a number of us have the oc-casion to use it daily, Depends on retreat master. I find retreat masters about right; too little usually. Also depends on individual. It differs from a great deal to too little. Perhaps it could be more in most cases. I am satisfied with just the Personality of Christ according to Gospels. Retreat days ought not be a course in theology. If necessary, this should be taken care of otherwise. Some give more, others less, so that on the whole I'd say it evens up about right. As far as I am concerned, a deep theological retreat would be out of place. The mental training of our sisters is too varied to admit of excessive technicality in meditations. Sound, simple explanation of dogma is always welcome. Rather excess than defect. Sisters need solid dogmatic principles always. Do much harm a,mong those taught if they lack principles. Sometimes it is very excessive, but usually about right. However, they often presuppose more theological knowledge on our part than many of us actually possess. For our younger sisters who have had many courses in theology, it may be about right. For our older people and those who because of the work they do, do not continue.their education, it is probably excessive, except where the retreat master takes the trouble to clearly explain his points. Distinguish: amount of theology usually presented--O.K.; skill in bringing out theological implications, e.g., in a meditation on the Passion, without getting dry and classroomish--tbis is rarer. Too much, I believe, would dishearten the less intellectual; too little would make it impossible to form a foundation for the convictions necessary in living a spir-itual life. In coming toa satisfactory conclusion on this whole problem of theology it seems that the retreat m~ister must keep two cardinal points in mind: the sisters' background and his own treatment. March, 1956 SISTERS' RETREAT'S--II Both of these points are so relative that no possible suggestion to be adopted by all retreat masters can be given here. What is excessive for one community (or for one group of. sisters within it) may be too little for a second and about right for a third. Likewise, the same theology in the mouth of one priest may be excessive; in that of another, too little. To adjust the first relative element the retreat master might conduct a careful investigation of the sisters to whom he is going to give his retreat. He could write the provincial superior requesting information on the education and works of the sisters making the retreat and then adapt his methodology accordingly. An appraisal of the second element (the priest's treatment of theology) could be effected by. a simple, one-page questionnaire given by the retreat master to the sisters after his retreats. He could ask whether he had given enough theology, whether his e~planation was simple and clear, and any other question that might contribute to greater efficiency. This information would not benefit the sisters who furnished it, but it could be most helpful in subsequent retreats given by the retreat m~ister. /SISTERS' UNDERSTANDING OF THEOLOGY The sisters were next asked if they thought that the theology that was presented in their retreats was understood. Do you think that the sisters can understand the theology that is presented at least fairly well? __.most of them "do __some do __few do Further comment:__ The breakdown of the answers to this .query is percentage-wise quite close to that of the preceding question. The presence of too many diverse factors, however, prevents us from asserting that this correlation is really significant. For example, on this question some of the sisters answered in an unexpected way. These few indicated that the amount of theology discussed in retreats is too little and then in the present question chose the response ""some do" rather than "most do." Of the sisters ans.wering this question, 517 (76.2%) "think that most understand the theology, 153 (22.5%) that only some grasp it, and 9 (1.3%) that few sisters understand it. For this question it does not seem necessary to divide the sisters' further comments into categories, for their meaning is clear enough as they stand. 95 THOMAS DUBAY I'm not anything when it comes to brain power, but 1 can say. that I understood everything I've heard so far. Most sisters with high school or. colleg'e education can understand. Sisters with elementary education who have grown old with hard manual labor in homes or seminaries cannot. All in my community understand what is presented,, and most do it better than "fairly well.'~ I don't know how other sisters feel about it, but I like it. I think perhaps most of the priests think we have had more theology than we really have had. I certainly feel the sisters would be capable of receiving more if it were given. Before retreat begins we are able rather accurately to predict the outline of the con-ferences, if not .the matti~r of each conference. No challenge! ,. Very poor foundation in theology obtained in thee novitiate. Since most sisters either have a college education or are receiving it, they can under-stand considerably more than is usually offered, i believe. The fact that they might not [understand] would seem to indicate a further need for it. Too often I feel that the retreats are directed prima,rily to the teachers and the others find it difficult to follow ot:' gain much from it. Most' of them do, but not all like it. There is a certain type of nun who likes simple retreats. I do not believe it is a case of sisters failing to understand theology, but a case of retreat masters failing to present theology. Sisters have often gone through retreats without deriving much practical help. All sisters do not have a high inte!ligence and need more explaining. Much depends On the master's ability to make theological truths clear and mean-ingful, A retreat master should conduct the retreat on as high a theological, philosophical,. ascetical, and even mystical a plane as he is able. He should give sisters exactly the same substantial content as he would give to other priests. He need have no fear that they will not be able to understand and live what he himself understands and lives. He should deliver his message however without scholarly verbiage, Latinisms, and all the other .trappings~which' serve to impress rather than to clarify. Through no fault of 'their own, sisters do not have the information to cgpe with this. It is a great m'istake however--and sad to say a common one--to confound a sister's lack of technical theological learning with a lack of intelligence. It is the priest's task to make the technical comprehensible to the non-theologian. This of course demands much more unde~rstanding than does a presentation in the language of the manu'als. Most retreat masters present a very thin spiritual gruel by comparison with what they could give if they. had greater respect for the potentialities of the sisters. ~ The suggestions appended to our discussion of the immediately preceding question would appear to apply to this present problem with equal validity. 96 ( .uesHons and Answers [The following answ,ers are given by°Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.d., professor of canon law at Woodsiock College, W, oodstock, Maryland.] tI,t 9 ' Ih our concjrecjatlon of :sis ers here is a fee c~harcjed for the expenses of the postulancy and noviceshipI. Recently a novice had to have an op-eratlon for append|c,tls. Are tile expenses of th,s operat,on included ~n the fee, or are her parents obl,cjed to pay them? As permitted by can. 570~ § 1, and found at least frequently in all types of religious institutes', the constitutions of nuns and sisters ordinarily d~mand that the ca!ndidate brin~ prescribed clothing and personal effects with her to the postulancy and pay an established sum for the expenses ofthe" Ipostulancy and noviceship. The ex-penses for which payment mawr be demanded are only the ordinary and common expenses of food and clothing. The cost of the medi-cines and similar personal necessities that are usually required may be included under food. The I . ~ordmg of the canon does not permit an exaction for lodging nor for the cost of formation. Much less does it permit that the sum be~ established also for the profit of the institute, as if the,subject wer,e a student of an academy or college. The spirit of the canon is rather that nothing should be demanded if such a polic3r is a practical conform to this spirit at least readiness to grant necessary di Extraordinary expenses, e. g., serious illness, are not inciucJ The institute may rightfully that such expenses be borne b3 cases can readily and frequent'~ dent or inconsiderate to urge possibility~ Superiors should and do the extent of a prompt and cheerful pensationL whether whole or partial. those of :a surgical operation or of a '.d in this fee for ordir~ary expenses. demand, as in the present question, the subject or her parents. However, ~" occur in which it would be impru-his right: If the postulant or novice leaves or is dismissed, the insti}ute is entitled to payment of ex-p~ nses only for the time spe~nt in'the institute. 'Some aspects of the practice should be studied for possible re-vision. The list of things thalt the candidate is to bring with 'her should ,not be so massive as to]dismay a~ay-girl. Perhaps this is male ignorance, but it does not seem efficient to have each candidate bring such objects as towels, sheets, blankets, napkins, and silverware. I should think that uniformity of size and quality would be desir-" QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~iew for Religious able in such objects, that the institute could purchase them at a lower price, and that it would be more efficient to increase the fee somewhat. Despite any ancient authority that may be cited for this and similar.practices, I cannot see how personalized silverware contributes to speed in setting up a large refectory and much less to the supposed simplicity and humility of the religious life. Although extraneous to the present question, I would hold the same for a train on the religious habit, which appears to me to be neither simple nor humble and to be at least dubious in the field of hygiene. The customary practice of requiring that parents continue to supply during .the postulancy and noviceship things such as soap and toothpaste and articles of clothing that have been exhausted or worn out is the deceptive economy of money saved, but with un-noted spirit, ual depreciatiofi. The practice does not manifest a gen-erous spirit on the part of the institute and is not apt to engender a spirit of devotion and loyalty in the subject. It may also be the primaryreason why so many professed secure necessities from ex-terns. The psychology of religious infancy can be more lasting and tenacious than that of human infancy, and the usual correlative of stinginess of superiors is stubborn infidelity of subjects to. the ob-ligations of the vow and the laws on poverty. It is evidently con-trary to the quasi-contract of profession for an institute to exact payment from parents for expenses incurred after profession. Free gifts may be accepted. Expenses for food and clothing should not be charged for any period in which the postulants and novices are 'fully applied to the external works of the institute, e. g., as full-time teachers or nurses. It is conservative to state that few parents of religious are wealthy. Many have exhausted their financial capability in giving a son or daughter a high school education. They have sac-rificed any return on a child's earnings by the entrance into religion. Further exactions should not be imposed on them without at least careful and considerate thought. Finally, it is always to be remem-bered that it is extravagance, not~generosity, that is incompatible with religious poverty. ~0 Is it true that a resident chaplain should never hear ÷he confessions of ~'he sisters of the convent of which he is chaplain'? A chaplain as such is not the ordinary, extrhordinary, nor a sup-plementary confessor of the community. He may be appqinted as such. I believe that many would agree with me .in the statement that it is better not to appoint him as the ordinary" or extraordinary 98 March, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS c~nfessor of the c6mmunity. Anything alSproaching authority, mere friendship, and frequent soc"la 1a1n d b u s'iness contacts can be harmful to the greater efficacy of confeIs s. ion. It is therefore bettek not to ap-point a priest such as a chapla~in or one teaching in the school' with the sisters as their ordinary or extraordinary confessor. Since the confession will be the choice of the individual sister, no such reason exists against his appointment as the special ordinary of a sister or as a supplementary confessor of the convent of which he is,chap-lain. In the latter case he is evidently obliged in virtue of this ap-pointment to hear the confession of any sister 6f the convent who approaches him for confession when there is a just reason and for as long as the just reason continues. There is no question that he will be willing to hear'the confession of a sister in danger of death¯ Inasmuch as he possesses confessioIial jurisdiction for women, he can be both an occasional and a confessor of seriously sick sisters¯ As such he is obviously not to usurp the duty of the ordinary confessor of the community, but he should be willing to hear the confessions of sisters who reasonably request him to do so. He cannot be un-mindful of charity, and his study of moral theology and can6n law should have convinced him that cases of real spiritual necessity occur in all states of life. Furthermore, the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments has emphasized the principle with regard to the members of any type of community: ". what is especial, ly important, that they should have the opportunity to make a confession also shortly before the time of Communion . . . where frequent and daily Com-munion is in vogue, frequent and daily opportunity for sacramental confession, as far as that is possible, must also be afforded¯"' (Bous-caren, Canon Laco Digest, II, 210.) The Sacred Congregation could not have been unaware of the fact that the only priest who is cus-tomarily present in a house of lay religious daily, especially immedi-ately before Mass, is the resident chaplain or the priest who says the daily Mass. II We are a diocesan concjregation. Sometime in the past we had a particular sister who left; if she had not left, we would have tried to dis-miss her. She was a most difficult and peculiar subject. On leavlncj, she threatened to sue us for the work she had done in the concjrecjation. How could we have protected ourselves.'! Relig'ious progression contains two elements, the taking o;f the vows and a quasi-contract between the subject and the institute. One of the elements of this quasi-contract is that the religious gives 99 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERff Review for Religious over all her. labor to the institute. For. this reason can. 580, § 2, logically declares that anything given to a religious for his work belongs to the institute~ With equal logic can. 643, § 1, declares that a professed religious who leaves or is dismissed may not seek com-pensation for services rendered to the institute. This Canon is in-serted in constitutions approved by the Holy See. It is also under-stood that the same dedication of services applies to postulants and novices. The Holy See in approving constltut~ons adds a provision to can. 643 § 1. This provision enacts'that aspirants on their admis-sion to the postulancy must signa civilly valid document in which they dechlre that they will not demand any remuneration for serv-ices given in .the institute if they leave or are dismissed. The Holy. See of late has also been requiring that this declaration be renewed at the time of perpet[~al profession. It is understood that this pro-vision applies also to the postulancy and noviceship and is to be so wprded. To avoid any future difficulty, "such a provision should be made, even if it is not prescribed in the constitutions. The reason for the renewed declaration prescribed at the time of perpetual pro-fession is to make certain that the declaration will be made at a legal age, since .perpetual~ profession cannot be validly made until the day after the twenty-first birthday (c. 573). -12 Is correspondence'with the vicar for religious exempt from the in~pec-tion of superiors? Canon 611 exempts from inspection correspondence °with the local ordinaries to whom the religious is subject in matters in which the religious is subject to the ordinaries. It is probable that this same exemption extends to corresigondence with the priest delegated by l;h.e local ordinary to take care of the affairs of a igarticular community or of some or all communities of the diocese, since in fact such a priest i's handling the matters that appertain to the ordinary. It can be objected that the canon does not say, "to the local ordinary or his delegate," and fi superior could licitly deny that the exemption is proved.' However, it would be the part of prudence at least' not to subject such mail to any inspection. Religious ~bould be instructed not to be quick td write to the Holy See, the cardinal protector, " the apostoli~'deleg~ite; or the local ordinary, or his delegate. Such letters derriand a serious m~itter that cannot be resolved by recourse to one's own religious, suPeriors. °External authorities and dignitaries'should. 100 March, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS n6t,be annoyed by, needless a'nd extraneous correspondence; and do-mestic grievances, especially if purely personfil' or subjective, are to be confined by the family walls. How many "washings must alprlest do of the puHficators, palls, and corporals? Purifactors, palls, and cor~orals~ used in the sacrifice of the Mass are to be washed by. a cleric in major orders ,before being laundered by lay persons. The water of thls first w, ashing is to be poured into the sacrarium. The cleric in m~jor orders is obliged to only one ritual .washing; he may'do three if l~e wisbes to do so. The first washing may not be done even by rehglous women without an indult from the Holy See. The local ordinaries in mission countries have the power of granting such perm~ssmn to religious women. Cf. c. 1306, § 2; Cori3nata, Institutiones Iu~is Canonici, II, n. 887, 2*; J. O'Con-nell, The Celebration of Mas's, 256; Collins, The Church Edi[ice and Its AppOintments, 219-2~: Britt, Church Linens, 32; Murphy, The Sacristan's Manual, 12-13; Winslow, A Cornrnentarg on the Apostolic Faculties, 61. " Does the general ~decree on ~he simplification of the rubrics apply to the Lfffle Office of the ELV.M.? The decree of the Sacred [Congregation of Rites is confined to the rubrics of the Divine Office, and Mass, but from analogy the norms on the beginning and ~nd of the hours nSay be licitly used in both the choral and indivi~tual recitation of the Little Office of the B. V. M. The following, is a summary of the ~.ertinent parts of the decree. In beginnin~ both the pub(ic and private recitation c~f the canoni-cal hours, the Our Father, Hail Mary, and Apostles' Cr~ed are omitted; and the hours begin~ absolutely as follows: Matins from Domine, labia mea aperies; Cc~mpline from Iube, dorone benedicere; all others from Deus, tn adtut~orturn. In both public and private recitation, the canonical hours end as follov~s: Prime with Dom~mus nos benedicat; Complin~ with Benedicat et custodiat; all others,including Matins if recited pri-vately, with Fideliurn anirnae.~ The office ends after Compline with the recitation of the ,custo-mary antiphon of the B. V-. M., which is said here only, and Divinum auxiliurn. The indult and indulgences granted for the recit'ation of QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Sacrosanctae are attached to this same final antiphon 6f the B, V, M. Cf.~ M.'Noir0t, L'Arni du C!erg~, August, 1955, 512, note 2. 15 I wished to send a letter ,÷o ~he superior general, and I believed there was a serious reason why'th~ sehdincj of this letter should hive remained completely unknown to the local superior. How c,oulc~ I have accomplished this without violating our regulations? Correspohden~e with-higher superiors is exempt in virtue of c. 611. Exemption means the right to send and receive determined let-ters without permission, to receive them u~aopened, to send them uninspected, and probably the right to send and receive ttSem com-pletely unknown to the superior. Therefore, a superior is not to open sfich letters; and they are to be sealed before being presented to a s'uperior. The probable right o.f sending and receiving them com-pletely unknown to the superior is founded on the wording of c. 611, which states that exempt letters .are subject to n6 inspection. Article 180 of the Normae of 1901 aflir;ned that th~se letter~ were free of any inspection. It can be argued, at least with probability, that they would be subject to some inspection if they had to be presented to or received by the superior. Ordinarily there will be no special reasons against transmitting these letters sealed through the local superior. However, it should be possible to obtain a stamp unknown'to,the.superior; e." g., by having some stamps in the custody of the local.assistant or another religious. If a subject cannot so ob-tain a ~tam. p and wishes to send an exempt letter free of all inspec-tion,° he may obtain a stamp from other sources. He is to avoid all disedification in such.an act. It is not necessary to go to the ex-treme of having the porter separate all exempted envelopes and hand them immediately to the individual religious. ~16~ Our constifutlons state that the reading at table is to be from a pious book. What is the meaning of a pious book? This article of the constitutions is based, on article 182 of th~ Normae of 1901, which specified that the reading was to be from "some 16ious book." This does not demand that. the .reading be always from~ a ~spiritual book; the interpretatior~.is that the reading should be spiritual or useful. Therefore," the reading mgy be also from su{h book~ as" ecclesiastical histories, histories of'religious in-stitutes, e~clesiastical biog~aphies,'etc.,, and, also from instructive and hppropridte secular works. Cf. Battandie'r, Guide Canonique, n. 303. 102 90o! Reviews [All material for this department should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College. West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST AS THE BASIC PRINCIPLE OF SPIRITUAL,LIFE. By F~iedr[ch Jurcjensmeler. Translafed by Harrier G. Sfrauss. Pp. 379. Sheed and Ward, New York. 1954. $5.00. If ever there was a work of love; it is Father Jurgensmeier's The Mystical Bod~l of Christ. This is flue not ~nly of its subject matter but also of its authorship" an4 translation. The author, rector of the Archiepisocpal Seminary of Paderborn from 1938 to 1946 and martyr of necessary overwork, wrote only this one book, spending years on it and seemingly integrating his whole life, thought, and reading in it. The translator, Harriet G. Strauss, a convert, worked intermittently for five years under 'the direction of Provost Heinrich Seidler of Dresden putting the book into English. The first part of the book. is a comprehensive synthesis df Pauline "texts concerning the Mystical Body, a synthesis which both leads "the reader to the conclusion that the living union with Christ in the MysticalBody is the core of St. Paul's message and makes him anx-ious to read through the Epistles of St. Pa'ul to discover for himself ,their.wealth ~of meaning~ This section is followed' by a difficult dogmatic_ exposition demonstrating that whether one traces the dogmatic path leading from man to God or the one leading from ¯ God through grace to man, one nevertheless ends up at the same place, union with Christ in the Mystical Body. Thus the Mystical Body dogma, because of its central and fundamental position in dogmatic theology, ,is also the basic prificiple for the ascetical life. The last and most rewarding part of the book shows how the Mystical Body doctrine, 'as the fundamental principle of the as-cetical life, not only balances the roles of grace and human effort in" asceticism, but centers attention on Christ rather than on peripheral matters. It does this because it clearly-shows union with Christ as the center and source of all spiritual life; because it focuses atten-tion on the'sacraments as forces integrating us into the structure of the~Mystical Body of Christ and uniting us more closely with Him; because it regulates private devotion and'the liturgy,: and co-ordinates them into .the sacrificial action of Christ the High Priest;- because without neglecting the moral virtues it emphasizes the the- 103 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Retigiou~ ological as uniting with Christ, because it reveals suffering as the finest living of Christ's life and charity as the chief duty in one united with Christ; because it spotlights the fact that each one of us, no matter how insignificant, has a unique and important personal work to accomplish' in Christ's Mystical Body. ° If there are three strata of knowledge in theology, the topmost for the experts, the middle for eager students, and the lowermost for the average Catholic, then Father 3urgensmeier's work would be on the second level sinc,e it demands concentration and study. The translator-edftor is to be lauded for her work in bringing this book into conformity with Pius XII's~M~stici Corporis, but sh~ has not succeeded in all respects. For example, Father Jurgensmeier's errors concerning the extent of and conditions for incorporation in the Mystical Body, though removed in mor.e evident passages, still persist in less noti.ceable ones. Nor are the quotations from M~stici Corporis always apt in selection and textual integration. Father Jurgensmeier himself has complicated the task of the translator by using the same terms in two senses, sdmetimes within the same sen-tence, wiihout warning the reader. Further, in praiseworthily en-deavoring to clarify the meaning of that special mystical identifica- 'tion with \Christ, he has ambiguously described it as a personal character. But these,qualifications, though meant as a warning of caution too the reader, are not intended as derogatory to this magnificent work. Rather it should be considered, as Archbishop Cushing notes in the Foreword, o"a spiritual masterpiece" which can be reread and reread always with g~eater profit. DAVID d. HASSEL, S.J. I AM A DAUGHTER OF THE CHURCH. A Practical Synthesis of Car-mellfe Splrifuality. Volume II. By P. Marie-Eucjane, O.C.D. Trans-la÷e~: l by SMer M. Verda Clare,: C.S.C. Pp. 667. Fides Publishers, Chicacjo 10, Illinois. 19SS. $6.75. In 1953 Fides Publishers produced the first part of a synthesis of the teachings of St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross (with examples from the life of the Little Flower) under the title 1 Want to See God. The present work brings to a close this bril-liant and compendious study, explaining as it does the; soul's prog-ress from the beginning of supernatural contemplation in the fourth" of the Teresan.mansions to ~the~ ultimate union °with God in the seventh, .104 March, "1956 ." BOOK REVIEWS Anyone interested in the various stages of supernatural and mystical prayer will find this work of great assistance. The author's genius for synthesis--abundant quotations woven together "with commentary into an orderly development--is evident as he treats in turn supernatural recollection and the prayer of quiet, contem-plative dryness, the dark night of sense, union of the will, the dark night of the spirit, and, finally, transforming union of the soul with God in perfect love. His deft reconciling of apparent divergences in the doctrines of St. Teresa and St. John of the Cross is especially notable. Two short sections of the book stand out significantly for souls whose vocation is to be apostles in the modern world, whether or not God has raised them to the higher mansions. The first is Chap-ter X of Part IV, "The Mystery of the Church" (pp. 186-201). Upon reaching a state of union of the will with God (fifth man-sion), Teresa says that the soul is seized with an intense concern for the salvation of other souls. Its eyes are opened to thee.mission it must fulfill in' the Mystical Body. This is what Fath'er Marie- Eugene terms the soul's "~iscovery of the Church." At this point, tvhaetnio, nh eto s kbeet cehffeesc atend e bxyc e~lltehnet usnuimtimnga royf oafll t mhee dni vtoin Ce hprliasnt, oinf sthale-. Mystical Body--a program which dominated' St. Paul's thinking, and which he called the mystery. In Chapter IX of Part V, "The Saint in the Whole Christ" (pp. 606-62), the author b.egins by stressing the exalted and im-perious demands the lov~ of God makes on the soul raised to the sixth and seventh mansions to help in saving other souls. Then in a section'which is almost wholly original, though strictly in har-mony with Teresan spirituality, Father Marie;Eugene discusses the place of contemplation in the lives of modern apostles. It is this section of the book which, he says in the introduction, "he was tempted toe expand. What he has written is most valuable; we may hope that he is able to develop his ideas in their fullness in a future work., Among other sections which may attract special interest., are those on extraordin.ary.favor~ (pp. 243-97), which a.mounts to,a concise treatise on the~subject, and the. lengthy explanation of the dark night of the spirit (pp. 300-506): The publisher .has rendered a distinct .service to American read-ers by presenting these books in English, The typography is well chosen (save, I would say, for the title page and table of contents). 105. BOOK REVIEWS Review [or Religious A handy summary of Teresan spirituality, according to, the char-acteristics of the seven mansions, is printed inside the front cover. The inclusion of a combined index for both volumes would have enhanced the book's value even more. A final word of congratulation must be reserved for the trans-lator, who has produced as smoo.th and' forceful a translation as if the work had been written originally in English. May she turn her hand to other works where less skilled translators" fail to tread! --THEODORE W. WALTERS, TRUE MORALITY AND ITS COUNTERFEITS.' A Critical Analysis of Ex-is÷en÷ialisfic E÷hics. By Diefrlch yon Hildebrand wi÷h Alice Jourdaln. Pp. 179. David McKay Co., Inc., New York. 195S. $3.00. This book, after a brief introduction in which the author clearly states his object and method, contains nine chapters dealing mostly with "circumstance ethics." An appendix, "Allocution du St. P~re d la Fdd~ration. Mondiale des deunessbs "F~minines Catboliques'" (April, 1952) forms the conclusion. As far as can be seen, the book is the work of Von Hildebrand alone. We have ~here a vigor-ous attack both on "situa~tion or circumstances ethics" as well as on "sin m~rsticism." The former, already analyzed and condemned by the Pope in the allocution above referred to, is subjected to a ldnger analysis here. The results are the same--a ringing condem-nation of "situation ethics." The author grants the complexity ~of the individual moral situation, details the pertinent f~ctors'at play therein, but insists with the Pope upon the primacy of universal moral laws. Th~ exaggerations, even the unchristianity, of "~itu-ation ethics" is shown.- The final chapter is a positive statement of Christian ethics. Of more interest and originality, perhaps, are the parts which deal with "sin mysticism," a phrase taken from the German the-ologian, K. Rahner, S.d. This is a.kind of lived .application of some of the principles of "situa~tion ethics" manifested especially in liter-ature. It con'sists in the exaltation'of the tragic~ sinner over the self-righteous, mediocre, or merely conyentionally moral man. Von Hildebrand fi, nds traces of this tendency, in varying~ degress~ in' Catholic writers like Mauriac, Greene, Gertriad~ yon Le Fort and others. Since these Catholic authors~ are read by our students on the college level, at least, teachers of literature will want to read the indictment. Von Hildebrand is certainly not unsympathetic 1.06 March, 1956 ' " BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS towards these writers; he admits~ what he considers the truth they contain, recalls several necessary dtstlnctlons from Catholic ethics, but, in the end, is driven to condemn this tendency in them. --JAMES d. DOYLE, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS )kVE MARIA PRESS, Notre Dame, Indiana. Spirituality for: Postulate, NoOitiate, SchoIasticate, l~y Jar~es F. McElhone, C.S.C., is a book on the spiritual life written ex-plicitly fo~ beginners. It !is not a complete treatise on the religious life but alms to lay a solid foundation for such a life. It fills a need long felt by directors of young religious. Pp. 196. $3.00. THE B'RUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, WiSconsin. Helps and Hindrances to Perfection, by Thomas J. Higgins, S.J., is a sequel to the author's Perfection Is.for You. The readers for whom it is intended'are all ~he members of the Mystical Body of Christ, for each is bound to tend toward perfection. All can find in these pages help and inspiration. Houses where closed lay re-treats are conducted would do well to add both these volumes to the r~treatants library: .Pp. 258.$4.50. CARMELITE THIRD ORDER PRESS, 6415 Woodlawn Ave., Chicago 37, Ill. Mary and the Saints of Carmel, By-Reverend Valentine L. Boyle, O.Carm. This is a book of meditations on the feasts of our Lady and the saints of the Carmelite Order. Each meditation con-sists of a hundred-word biographical sketch, a one-sentence appli-cation, and the prayer of the-saint from the Carmelite missal. It is profusely illustrated in black and white. Pp. 185. $1.50. Carmel--Mary's Own. A History of the Carmelite Order. Part I. The Elian Origin o? Carmel. Pp. 64, 25c. Part II. The Golden Age of Car~el. Pp. 70. 25c. Part III. Carmel in Modern Times. Pp. 68. 25c. CLONMORE AND REYNOLDS, LTD., 29 Kildare St., Dublin. The Spiritual Teacl~ing of Venerable Francis Libermann. By Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. Founders of religious orders and con-gregations receive many. special graces from God to enable them to guide wisely in the paths of perfection those ,whom God gives them as followers. That is why the writings of. such founders are esteemed and treasured. The Venerable Francis Libermann, founder. 107 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review for Religious of the Congregations of the Holy 'Ghost and the Immaculate Heart of Mary, left his followers many valuable documents. Father Kelly has put these in the framework of a treatise on the spiritual life and so has made the wise counsels of the founder of his congrega-tion available to a wider circle of readers. Pp. 201. 13/-. DAUGHTERS OF SAINT PAUL, Old Lake Shore Road, Derby," N. Y. In The Daily Gospel we bare a harmonization of the four G~s-pels due essentially to Father Szczepanski, S.J. A portion of the Gospel is presented for each day of the year. Each selection is fol-lowed by a pertinent quotation from the fathers of the Church and a reflection. The reflections were compiled by John E. Robaldo, S.S.P. The text of the Gospels is the Confraternity version. Keep this book hand~; on your desk and nourish your soul with the Words of Life. Pp. 495. Paper $3.00. Cloth $4.00. Bible Stories for Children. Written and illustrated by the Daughters of' St. Paul. The book contains twenty-six stories from the Old Testament and fifty from the New. Each story is illus-trated with a full page attractive picture in four colors. Pp. 165. Soft cover $1.75. Cloth $3.00. St. Paul Catechism of Christian Doctrine. Prepared and illus-trated by the Daughters of St. Paul. There are six books in the set, one for each grade from one to six. They are richly illustrated in four colors. "Each lesson is divided into three parts: Catechism, Sacred Scripture, and Liturgy. Single copies retail for from 30 to 60 cents. DESCLEE COMPANY, INC., 280 Broadway, New York 7. A Short Histoql of Philosophg. By F. J. Thonnard, A.A. Translated by Edward A. Maziarz, C.PP.S. This is an excellent philosophical presentation of the major trends, schools, and leaders of Western philosophic thought. The intrinsic connection between the presuppositions, basic principles, and doctrines of the major philosohers is emphasized and their thought is briefly evaluated in" the light of Thomistic principles. The. work has excellent bibli-ographies and a valuable doctrinal table. This Efiglish translation, though faulty, will be welcome. Pp. 1074. $6.50. DOYLE AND FINEGAN, Collegeville, Minnesota. The-Simplilication of the Rubrics. Text of the Decree toitb Commentar~.1. By Annibale Bugnini, C.M. Translated by Leonard J. Doyle.~ Father Bugnini's commentary is by far the best that 108 March, 1956 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS has appeared so far and will do much to give a better understanding of the new rubrics. Pp. 131. $1.50. Order for Office and Mass, 1956. This is an English Ordo written for those who say the Divine Office in Engllsb. Pp. 115. $1.25. FELICIAN SISTERS, 600 Doat .St., Buffalo, N. Y. Magnigcat. A Centennial Record of the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Felix. The appearance of this book announces the happy completion of a century of growth and progress of the Felician sisters. All religious will find this book both interesting and in-spiring. To learn what others have done and are doing for the love of God is an external grace which stimulates to greater and more generous efforts in the following of Christ. It is a .valuable his-torical do.cument that every Catholic library should have. Pp. 155. GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Religio Religiosi. By Aidan Cardinal Gasquet, O.S.B. Though published in England in 1923, this little volume is not very well known in this country; and it should be better known. If all who have to face the problem of a choice of a state in life 'would read this book, vocations to the religious life would be multiplied. Pp. 120. $2.50. True Christmas Spirit. By Reverend Edward J. Sutfin. Here is a °book on the Christmas liturgy written at the request of edu-cators to assist them in teaching liturgy to children. It draws on the treasury of world literature and custom. Religious devoted to teaching will find this book most helpful. Pp. 154. $3,00. The Help of His Grace. The Storg of a Benedictine Sister. By Sister Jean Marie, O.S.B. This booklet is a new addition to vo-cational literature. Girls who wish to decide whether they have a vocation to the Benedictine way of life will find it most helpful. Pp. 108. $.50. ~ B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. The Names of Christ. By Louis of Leon, O.S.A. Translated by Edward J. Schuster. The author of this book was a professor of the University of Salamanca and a contemporary of St. Teresa of Avila and of St. John of the Cross. His spiritual doctrine is well summed up in the present volume. It is the sixth in the Cross .and Crown Series of Spirituality. Pp. 315. $4.75. The Church Teaches. Documents of the Church in English 109 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Reoiew [or Religious Translation. By the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Mar~;s, Kansas. The gratifying growth of the departments of religion in our-Catholic colleges and universities makes bool~s like the pres.ent volume a necessity. The argument from tradition will always be a major argument in all religious questions. Hence the necessity of translating the documents enshrining this tradition into English, since a knowledge of Latin and Greek can no longer be presupposed in tb~ students of religion. This book is a "must" for teachers of "rel'igion. Pp. 400. $5.75. :" Introduction to the Philosoph~t of Animate Nature. By Henry J. Koren, C.S.Sp. Teachers of philosophy will welcome this ne~i addition to Catholic texts on rational psychology. There is more 'than enough material for a three-hour one-semester course. An ap-pendix .contain~ a list of review questions and suggested readings. Pp. 341. $4.75. An Introduction to the Science of Metapbgsics. By Henry J. Koren, C.S.Sp. This clear, understandable, and orderly textbook, giving the traditional Thomistic doctrine of being, is divided into two parts: being in general (,its nature, its transcendental properties and its limitation), and finite being (its nature and multiplication, its categories, and its causes). For a three-hour one-semester course some selection of material will be necessary. Pp. 341. $4.75. THI~ NI~WMAN IaRI~SS, Westminster, .Ma'ryland. An Hour with Jesus. Meditations for Religious. By Abbe Gaston Courtois. Translated by 'Sister Helen Madeleine, S.N.D. Religious women whose work is education will find enlightenment, encouragement, and many practical, suggestions in this volume. Used as an aid for meditation, the book should do much to advance its users in. the art of mental prayer. Pp. 161. $3.00. :'"Cleanse mg Heart. Meditations on .the Sunda~t Gospels. By Vincerit P. McCorry, S.J. Readers of America will be familiar with Father McCorry's liturgical column "The Word." They will be pleased that one year's offerings have been given a more permanent form in the present volume. Pp. 179. $2.75. Graceful Living. A Course in the Appreciation of the Sacra-ments. By John Fearon, O.P. This is a book on the theology of the sacraments written in a popular vein to catch the interest of the ordinary Catholic and so help him to a fuller Catholic life. It was a selection of the Spiritual Book Associates. Pp. 160. $2.50. Leauen of Holiness. Conferences for Religious. By Reverend 110 March, 1956 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Charles Hugo Doyle. Those who have read Father Doyle's first book of conferences for religious, In Pursuit of Perfection, will find in this volume the same freshness of style and vigor of presentation. Pp. 242. $3.50. Meditations Before Mass. By Romano Guardini. Translated by Elinor C. Briefs. Despite the title, this is not a book of medi-tations. It is rather a collection of conferences given originally before Mass to enable the congregation to enter fully into the divine action. Its purpose is to teach a greater appreciation of and participation in the holy sacrifice. Pp. 203'. $3.00. THE PRIORY PRESS, Asbury Road, Dubuque, Iowa. Beginnings: Genesis and Modern Science. By Charles Hauret. Translated and adapted from the 4th French edition by E. P. Em-mans, O.P. and S.S.Prolyta. There can be no conflict between faith and science since God is the author of both. Yet there may be ap-parent conflict. Father Hauret, a scientist in his own right, squarely faces the problems posed by the account of creation in the first three chapters of Genesis and the findings of modern science. If you teach religion, this is a book you should read. You will learn much about the Sacred Scriptures as well as about modern science, and you will be in a position to give satisfactory answers to modern doubters. Pp. 304. $3.25. SAINT CHARLES SEMINARY, 209 Flagg Place, Staten Island 4, N. Y. Father to the Immigrants. dohn Baptist Scalabrini, Bishop of Piacenza. By Icilio Felici. Translated by Carol della Chiesa. On June 1, 1905, John Baptist Scalabrini, Bishop of Piacenza died a holy death. He was a remarkable man, and his memory is honored particularly for his heroic labors in behalf of Italian immigrants in both Americas. He came to their aid by founding the Society of St. Raphael, a lay organization, to alleviate their material wants; by founding a society of missionary priests, now popularly known as the Scalabrinian fathers, to care for their spiritual needs; by starting a congregation of sisters to care for the orphaned and the sick among them. It. was be who came to" the rescue of the Mis-sionary Zelatrices of the Sacred Heart, when it seemed that they must disband, and interested them in work for immigrants. It was he too who urged Mother Cabrini to choose America rather than the Orient for bet field of labors. This is the first full-length bi-ography in English of this saintly bishop, a milestone on the way to his beatification. Pp. 248. $3.00. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS SAINT PAUL PUBLICATIONS, 2187 Victory Blvd., Staten Island 14, N. Y. The Perennial Order by Martin Versfeld is a book on Catholic philosophy which is not a textbook. It will be read with interest and profit even by those who have had the usual courses in philo-sophy, for it deals with many topics not mentioned in the conven-tional courses. It is an apostolic book in the sense that it is written also for non-Catholics. It should do much to answer many an in-tellectual difficulty of the sincere inquirer and so prepare the way for conversion. Pp. 250. $3.00. SHEED AND WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3. Su)ift Victory. Essays on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit. By Walter Farrell, O.P. and Dominic Hughes, O.P. It is perhaps no exaggeration to say that most Catholics know so little of the gifts of the Hoiy Ghost that they cannot even name them all. The reason possibly is that they are not something to strive for, but something freely granted to those who love God. Every Catholic should know more about these treasures which are his. Pp. 211. $3.25. In Soft Garments. A Collection of Oxford Conferences. By Ronatd A. Knox. This collection was first published in 1942. The present reprint is in response to popular demand. Pp. 214. $3.00. TEMPLEGATE, Springfield, Illinois. Loue of Our Neighbor. Edited by Albert Ple, O.P. Translated by Donald Attwater and R. F. Trevett. This book is the report of a symposium on charity in which this virtue was dealt with from many angles. Part one deals with charity and Revelation. Part two treats of the theology of this virtue. Part three has such chapters as "A Philosophy of Relation to Others," "Psychoanalysis and Love of One's Neighbors," "Love of Our Neighbor and the Economics of Giving." Part four consists of an outline of what a complete treatise on the love of our neighbor must be if it is ever to be written. Pp. 182. $3.95. CATHOLIC ALMANAC, 1956 The 1956 National Catholic Almanac, a very valuable reference book, is now available at the St. Anthony Guild Press, 508 Marshall St., Paterson, New Jersey. Cloth, $2.50; paper, $2.00. OUR CONTRIBUTORS MOTHER MARY ELEANOR teaches at Rosemont College, Rosemont, Penn-sylvania. BERNARD LEEMING is a professor of theology at Heythrop College, Oxon, England. THOMAS DUBAY teaches theology and homiletics at Marist College, Washington, D. C. 112 InJ:orma!:ion [or Subscribers BUSINESS OFFICE ADDRESS: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas. SEND ALL RENEWALS AND SUBSCRIPTIONS TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas. NOTICES OF EXPIRATION have been mailed to all sub-scribers whose subscriptions expired with Jan., 1956. We hope that those who have not yet done so may find it convenient to renew at an early date. When renewing please return the postal-card notice sent to you. It is of great assistance to us in making prompt and ac-curate identification of renewals. EARLY RENEWAL of subscriptions enables us to prepare our ~-~.mailing list for tl~ next issue and avoids delays incurred by later additional mailings. 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Issue 34.6 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Revtew ]or Rehgtous is edited by faculty members of the School of Diwnlty of St Louis Umverslty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Budding, 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 ~) 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years (for airmail delivery, add $5.00 per year). 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 Jot Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor November 1975 Volume 34 Number 6 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 and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen. S.J.: St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Unmarriageable for God's Sake Peter G. van Breemen, S.J. Father van Breemen studied nuclear physics in Amsterdam, Holland, and in Rochester, N.Y. He was novice-master in his home province (Netherlands), has a broad experience in Working with priests and religious as spiritual director and lecturer both here and abroad, and is presently in charge of the combined Flemish (Belgian)-Dutch novitiate. His present address is Priorijdreef 21; 1160 Brussels, Belgium. The Old Testament often speaks of virginity, but always the reference is to the virginity of the people as a whole; e.g., Jeremiah says, "I build you once more; ¯ you shall be ri~buiit, virgin of Israel" (3, 1-4), and again, "Come home, virgin of Israel, come home to these towns of yours" (31, 21). In Isaiah we find the same concept: the chosen people as a whole is the virgin bride of Yahweh: Like a young man marrying a virgin so will the one who built you wed you, and as the bridegroom rejoices in his bride, ,so will your God rejoice in you (62, 5). For now your creator will be your husband, his name, Yahweh. Sabaoth; your redeemer will be the Holy One.of Israel, he is called the God of the whole earth (54, 5). We can make the general statement that in the Old Testament virginity is never lived in a personal way. On the contrary, lJersonal virginity is far removed from the mind of an Israelite. Fertiliiy was a blessing, and the com-mandment of Genesis (1, 28) "Be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth" was very sacred to the Jews. This article is a chapter from Father van Breemen's forthcoming book, Called by Name, scheduled to be published by Dimension Books, Denville, N.J., in January, 1976. 839 a40 / Review for Religious, ~'olume 34, 1975/6 The natural longing for posterity found in all people, but especially in more primitive people, was deepened to a far greater degree for the Israelite by,the fact that the messiah had been promised as one of his race. To the Jews, therefore, the role of father and mother became sacred in a heightened ~ense. They had many sayings which illustrated their convictions in this matter; e.g., "Who does not marry is like a person who sheds blood," or ". is like a murderer!" A person who did not marry had the power of life within him but did not transmit it. Even as lateas prophetic times Jeremiah's celibacy was a shock. The most striking example of this sacredness of parenthood is found in the Book of Judges (11, 30-40), where we read the story of the daughter of Jephthah, who was to die for a mistaken and unlawful interpretation of a vow made by her father. She accepts her death submissively, but for the young girl, even worse than the death itself to which she is condemned is the fact that she must die without having been fruitful. "Grant me one request," she pleads, "Let me be free for two months. I shall go and wander in the mountains, and with my companions bewail by virginity." The whole longing of the Israelite for children is heard in that plea, as it is also in the words of Rachel: "Give me children or I shall die" (Gen 30, i). It is only in the New Testament that personal celibacy becomes a factor in human life. This is most probably connected with the incarnation and demonstrates that only an incarnate God can enable us to live as celibates, since it is the person of Jesus Christ who is at the heart.of celibacy. Virginity can be realized only because of Christ and with Him since it is only a con-tinuous focusing on Him .which enables us to persevere in purity of heart and flesh without becoming turned in on ourselves. Matthew lists three categories of eunuchs: There are eunuchs'born that way from their mother's womb, there are eunuchs made sot by men and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can (19, 12). Because "eunuch" is such a horrible word, it is a very humbling experience to dwell upon the reality of this mystery. A eunuch is one who is incapable of human marriage. The very starkness of the phrase is in .one way the highlight of all considerations of the mystery of celibacy. "Eunuch" sounds so much like "freak," an incomplete person, one somehow lacking an essential that con-stitutes him human. It intensifies the harshness of the truth which the word "virgin" softens somewhat. On the surface, to "make myself unmarriageable" seems to imply that I should make myself as unattractive as possible so that no one will be interested even in looking at me. But that would be a shallow and exterior approaqh to being unmarriageable. A more valid understanding of the mystery of celibacy would be this: a woman, very much in love with her hus-band, would have eyes for no other man. In this sense, she is no longer marriageable for any other man. She is bound and committed to this one alone--freely, happily. The real mystery of consecrated celibacy lies. in the reason for it, expressed by Christ in the words "for the sake of the kingdom of Unmarriageable for God's Sake / 841 heaven." The kingdom is where God truly reigns,~where the will of God is fulfilled entirely; in other words, where God is fully God. In the history of salvation the kingdom of God so far has been fully realized only in Jesus Christ and in His mother Mary. In the person of Jesus, God's Will was totally accomplished; He is the kingdom of God enfleshed. From His time onward, celibacy for the kingdom of heaven is possible because now it can find inspira-tion and impetus from contemplation .of the kingdom as shaped in Jesus Christ. This is another way saying that Jesus Himself is at the heart of New Testamental celibacy. In its final analysis, celibacy means being captured by Christ. He is our life (Col 3, 4), fascinating us so completely that eventually we become un-marriageable, In its deepest sense, this is what celibacy means. It is not on the basis of pros and cons that one undertakes freely to live one's entire life in celibacy, nor is it just a state of being unmarried; rather, it is existentially be-ing incapable of marriage. When Jesus says there are eunuchs that have made themselves thus for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, He is pointing out that true celibacy is achieved not in a single leap, but by a process of slow growth. The Rule of Taiz6 says, "This work of Christ .in' you demands infinite patience." When a person takes first or even final vows, usually he is not yet unmarriageable. What he expresses in his vow is a two-fold covenant: he professes publicly for everyone to know that he recognizes as an ideal for himself the state of being unmarriageable for the sake of the kingdom of heaven; and he promises that he will put forth every effort to achieve this goal. He will not try to preserve himself marriageable as long as possible; on the contrary, he will try seriously, honestly to make himself unmarriageable. It is a long, .sometimes difficult road to become unmarriageable for the sake of the kingdom, It can take years, even decades, to. progress far on this narrow way of being fascinated by Jesus Christ, but by his vow the religious promises to advance as quickly as he can. He will not procrastinate~ This is his ideal, and he will run to meet it. Only when the point of really being unmarriageable has been reached has celibacy become fully mature. In a book written for priests, La Peur ou la Foi, Maurice Bellet has observed: Suppose one morning a priests reads in his newspaper that the Pope has changed his mind on the En-cyclical Sacerdotalis celibatus; from now on celibacy will be optional for priests. If that priest at this point has to make up his mind what he is going to do--make use of the new opening for marriage or remain celibate--th~ mere fact that he has to deliberate indicates that he is not yet existentially un-marriageable. Thus far, he is only juridically unmarriageable. Genuine celibacy goes so much deeper than a law because it is the interiorization of the goal of that law. The content of celibacy is eminently positive. It involves not just being un-married, but being fascinated by another--Christ--to such a degree that marriage is no longer possible. Celibacy does not mean that on~ has lost something, but rather that the celibate has found Someone. In essence, celibacy is love which can no longer wait; that is what makes it fruitful. There 842 / Review for Religious," Volume 34, 1975/6 is another dimension, at once ecclesial and eschatological, which enhances the value of celibacy and helps to prevent it from becoming myopic or introspec-tive. The celibate stands as an enduring witness that all Christians are pledged to a new order of grace, the fullness of which is that kingdom where no one will be given in marriage. He thus becomes by his celibacy a prophetic voice, recalling to all men that there are ultimate values not wholly attainable in our present life, and that it is only at our journey's end that we shall experience the fullness of God's giving. En route, there is only one thing necessary: God's love as revealed in Christ. Celibacy is a pilgrimage, a tremendous adventure. Along this way we meet magnificent people who have really become unmarriageable because of God. Unhappily, we also meet some who in their celibacy have not come to complete fulfillment, but have become bogged down along the road. Negative Celibacy There is a danger, of course, a risk involved in celibacy because there we lack the incentives provided by marriage and the care of a family. This means that celibacy can lead to a coldness of heart, a lack of affection, possibly even to laziness. The only radical remedy against this danger is to focus all our attention on the heart and inspiration of celibacy, for unless it is based on deep attraction for the person of Christ, celibacy can be irresponsible. In this lies its real challenge. It would be unrealistic to ignore the fact that the celibate life in-volves a genuine deprivation, something which we miss because we are celibates. 'Jesus answered the man who wanted to follow Him wherever He went: "Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head" (Lk 9, 58). So, no home of His own for the Son of Man, no home of his own for the celibate! One who follows Christ in the celibate why has no conjug~d ties--no husband or wife or children--and he m'isses the warmth these can" provide and the appeal they can make on him. This is the negative element in celibacy. There is also a positive element: viz., the fascination which Christ has for this person, the dedication to the apostolate or to contemplative life, the commitment to the kingdom of God, the being available for the people of God. In every celibate life boththe positive and the negative elements are always present, but in varying degrees, and in this lies the differing quality of celibacy. We call that a negative celibacy when the negative element predominates even though .there is, of course, some minor positiveelement present. The first im-pression this type of celibacy gives is a kind of frustration, .a deprivation; something is missing. We speak about a positive celibacy when--the negative element being present to a certain degree--the over-all impression is that of a wholesome life at once fulfilled and appealing. It is the celibacy in which negative elements prevail which presents the greatest difficulty, yet its problems are not ineradicable. There is always possi-ble a genuine conversion which will transmute the negative, making it genuinely positive. This conversion may require that the religious relinquish some things in or.der to find Christ and to contemplate Him more deeply so Unmarriageable for God's Sake / 043 that he may fill the emptiness. Perhaps there is .some foreign element blocking Christ's way in the life of negative celibacy, and until this is removed, the joy of.positive celibacy remains elusive. It is important that there be a genuine transformation of this negative celibacy into a positive one, a transformation that is truly worth the price it exacts. There is a second way to cope with negative celibacy: to seek dispensation from the vows and then to leave in order to search for happiness elsewhere. Apart from these two radical ways to overcome negative celibacy, there are also two forms of compromise open. In these methods of temporizing the celibate does not break his promise by giving up his vows, nor does he take the radical measure to make his celibacy really positive, but he seeks the in-between solutions of either sublimation or compensation. In sublimation the gap which is there and which is predominant is filled up with important human values. In themselves,~of course, these human values were not the reason why the religious chose celibacy, but having more or less failed in the option he did choose, he tries to make the best of the situation by sublimating it into human values which in themselves are good: work, relations with others, influential positions, broad culture, wide interests. The pain of not being able to'marry, of not being father or mother, is assuaged to some extent by these other values. People attempting this sublimation work very hard; they frequently carryoalmost a double load, and others may marvel at their efficiency and their energy. Outwardly, their life seems anything but a failure. And yet, deep down, :this celibacy is a failure because it was never in-tended for this excessive work-load. Or such a person may seek out many social contacts and relationships, many friends, Or it may be a devotion to study or a drive for power which preempts his attention. In all this, the reac-tion is a sublimation of tlae real core of celibacy. The other type of compromise for coping with negative celibacy without ~ibandoning it completely or transforming it into the positive is compensation, basically the same substitution of a lesser value for the real one, but here the human values used to fill the gap are no longer important ones, but rather of a lower species: insipid literature, curiosity, shallow hobbies. Neither of these ways out of negative celibacy--sublimation or compen-sation- is a sufficiently radical solution to the problem. The only effective way to combat negative celibacy is to grow into positive celibacy, that is to strengthen the positive element by means of a deeper, more intent focusing on the kingdom of heaven incarnate in Jesus. True Celibacy Since the deepest root and inspiration of true celibacy is the person of Christ, the people of God also play an important role in celibacy, and this in two ways: dedication to the kingdom of heaven always means dedication to the body of Christ as formed by the .people; and celibacy needs the support of the people of God and, even more pointedly, the support of the community. Celibacy is not constituted by turning away from the people; rather it is con- 844 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 stituted by the fact that through the celibate God turns Himself towards the people. A celibate is not divided, torn between Christ and the people. He lets his affection for the people coincide as completely as pos.~sible with Christ's love for them because he is taken up in this covenant relation between God and His people. Thus, a person who gives himself to Christ gives himself to the Christ who offered Himself for everybody; therefore, genuine dedication to Christ is always dedication to all whom we encounter. In fact, celibacy always implies ,the call to devote oneself to the~ neighbor with Christ's own love. If we really give ourselves to Christ, He will enlarge our hearts so that we can em-brace many and live truly fruitful lives. This dedication to Christ, however, is lived in the darkness of faith and the longing of hope, and often the fruitfulness of our lives is not apparent. We commit ourselvesto Christ, but we have never seen Him. We have to live with a certainty that has no basis in this visible world; there is no hand to hold. The man whodives thus is brave and mature: no one who has seen this or who has tried it hims~elf will deny that. A celibate life is a courageous life, one that has a kind of poverty about it because it offers nothing tangible to which I can cling. I can never grasp God. Sociologically, the poverty of celibacy is often looked upon as something to be pitied. This can be a grace to be.exploitedmone that the celibate would betray if he sought to create an impression of heroism before the people. Instead of trying to elevate celibacy to a pedestal, let him live it as one of the poor of Yahweh: You have seduced me, Yahweh, and 1 have let myself be' seduced: you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughing-.stock, everybody's butt (Jer 20., 7). In some of our recent theologizing it is possible that we cross the narrow line between giving reasons for the hope that is within us and giving proof for the validity, of our way of life. Underlying this is the sometimes barely acknowledged desire to make ourselves important to .ourselveS. Nor should the celibate claim that his celibacy makes him completely available to the people, because such a claim would be too pretentious, giving him an honor which he does not deserve. Celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven does not need anything outside itself to justify it. In itself it is a ser-vice, provided that it is lived to the full. The ultimate service I render is not that I have more time, that I am more free for people, but that I have pledged as my most constant ideal openness to God and the public testimony of the reality of God in my life. Celibacy is not to be admired by the people. All that is important is that I should.be captured by Christ and spread the news 0f His love. It is enough that religious be a "light to the world~" a beacon to travelers, not so much something for people to admire, as a light for them to see the direction in which they are to go. The very simplicity in which we live our celibacy can in itself be a sign which silently and humbly promotes the reality of God. This is the greatest service we can render to people by our celibacy--to show them that God is so real that He can truly fill a human heart and can Unmarriageable for God's Sake /,,845 bring a human life to fulfillment. Cardinal Suhard says: "To be a witness does not consist in engaging in propaganda nor even in stirring up people, but in be-ing a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one's life would not make sense if God did not. exist." There is a final way in which other people enter into our celibacy: for a truly celibate life we need the support of others. A cold community which affectively isolates a celibate can do great harm to the growth of positive celibacy in its members. We can never come to God completely by ourselves; we need the inspiration and affection of our fellowmen. It is not that we should claim that support or demand it; that is a most sure way of ruining it. But we should be able to hope for it. And we certainly should be poor and humble enough to be receptive to it when it is freely and purely given. This means that the people in the parish are partly responsible for the celibacy of their priests, and members of a religious community have mutually promised to be respon-sible for one another's celibacy. We are to be living signs of God's love. Celibacy would be a mere caricature of the gospel if it did not make visible God's love in the human community: "See how they love one another!" Commitment in a Changing World Sisters Margaret Farley and Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M. This article represents the proceedings of a seminar sponsored by the Sisters of Mercy on the topic indicated in the title. The proceedings were edited for publication by Sisters Margaret and Doris. Sister Doris resides at the Generalate of the Sisters of Mercy; I0000 Kentsdale Drive; P.O. Box 34446; West Bethesda, MD 20034. Introduction For many years now religious have been accustomed to hearing that one in three marriages ends in divorce, so that we are no longer startled by that bit of information. More recently, however, we have also observed that the number of dispensations from religious vows now exceeds the number of religious professions, and, in some regions, laicizations outnumber ordinations. Furthermore, in today's professional world several career changes are ex-pected in one professional lifetime. In such a context of flux and imper-manence, can a commitment made for a lifetime have any relevance or viability? It was to explore this question that the Sisters of Mercy undertook a study pr6ject on "permanency in commitment." Religious communities have not been exempt from the currents of change: the reluctance of younger members to commit themselves for life, the waning of vitality in the commit-ment of some older members, and the increased number of dispensations from religious vows all testify to a new interpretation of "permanence" as a value. It can certainly not be concluded that the challenge to permanency in cofia-mitment springs from a lack of generosity. Rather, in many cases it appears to be the result of new insights into the developmental character of the human person, into the dynamism of change in all areas of life, and into the inter-relationship of all aspects of human life, sothat change in one area necessitates an adjustment in another. Nor, on the other hand, can it be concluded that the situation has so changed in the last generation that a case can no longer be 846 Commitment in a Changing World made today for lifetime fidelity to commitments. The lives of untold thousands testify to commitments freely'entered into and fruitfully lived out in ever-unfolding contexts. The purpose of the study reported here, therefore, was to bring together the new insights of contemporary research and reflection and the lived reality of contemporary experience in order to illuminate various practical questions. The immediate context of the study was commitment in religious life, since the project was inaugurated by a religious community, but it was felt that the reflections would have a wider applicability. An investigation such as this must necessarily be multi-disciplinary: the sociologist, the psychologist, the philosopher, and the theologian have all reflected on human experience from a particular vantage point. Many fine ar-ticles have been published in recent years on the phenomenon of change and of non-commitment; but 'all of them necessarily examine the issue from the author's individual perspective. Accordingly, in the fall of 1973, the Sisters of Mercy invited a number of participants to engage in a dialogue which would attempt to bridge the gaps between various disciplines and to widen the con-text of contemporary discussion. The dialogue which ensued was not intended to come up. with "answers" nor to bear fruit in a consensus which would be unanimously endorsed only because it represented the least common denominator of the discussion, but rather to enrich the collective understand-ing of the participants and to furnish a context for future reflection and; perhaps, decision-making. The participants in the study all entered enthusiastically into the dialogue and contributed a rich variety of intellectual viewpoints and life experiences. A brief introduction to the. members of the study group follows: Sidney Callahan: columnist in the National Catholic Reporter; author; lecturer. Thomas Clarke, S.J.: theologian; author; staff person at the Gonzaga Center for Spirituality, Monroe, New York. Norita Cooney; R.S.M.: assistant professor of sociology, College of St. Mary's, Omaha, Nebraska; Director of the Office for Pastoral Development, Archdiocese of Omaha. Margaret, Farley, R.S:M.: associate professor of ethics, Yale Divinity School. Jean Flannelly, S.C.: clinical psychologist; instructor at Cathedral College, Douglaston, New York; active i9 personnel servi6es for the Sisters of Charity. Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M.: General Councilor of Sisters of Mercy; member of the Planning Committee for this study. John Haughey, S.J.: associate editor of ,,lmerica," adjunct professor of theology, Fordham University; author. ~ Theresa Kan¢, R.S.M.: Provincial Administrator ot: Sisters of Mercy, Province of New York; member of the Planning Committee for this study. Ellen Marie Keane, R.S.H.M.: .professor of philosophy at Marymount College, Tarrytown, New York. Mary Evangeline McSloy, R.S.M.t staff associate at St. Clotilde's parish in Chicago; formerly Executive Secretary of the Sister Formation Conference; member of the Planning Committee for this study. Miriam Sharpe, R.S.M.: Provincial Councilor of Sisters of Mercy, Province of Providence. Richard Westley: chairman of the Graduate Department of Philosophy, Loyola Univer-sity, Chicago. a4a / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 In the initial phase of this study project, the participants all undertook to read a selection of articles pertinent to the topic, as a kind of basic orientation to the: discussion. Therefore, the bibliographical references included should be seen as integral to the report, rather than as merely an appendage. In several of these articles can be found more extended statements of some of the par-ticipants~. Furthermore, anyone who reads these references will be led to other sources which will further enlarge the parameters of his or her reflection. In the second phase of the study, which provides the basis for this article, the participants gathered at Mount Mercy, Dobbs Ferry, New York, for a weekend which was described as a "think tank/retreat" experience--an oppor-tunity for free-flowing, uninterrupted dialogue on the topic of "permanency in commitment." The sessions were taped, and this report is an: attempt to distill from the hundreds of pages of transcript a sampling of the opinions expressed: The comments chosen have been rearranged and/or paraphrased .in order to allow~ for, a greater economy of words, but the dialogue format has been preserved in order to convey the liveliness and immediacy of the exchange. The reader,must also be aware that not everyone agreed with every opinion ex, pressed, nor did every comment represent a carefully-reasoned-out position. Rather; some remarks were more in the nature of trial balloons, insights and fragments which were intended to stimulate further responses from the :com-panions in the discussion. Early in the dialogue the participants recognized that there is a degree of artificiality about isolating the element of permanency from commitment. It was,generally felt that.the nature of commitment itself was at issue, ,and that permanency merely designated one quality or aspect of it. Thus it was felt tha~t if the nature of commitment itself was explored, the place of "permanency" in our understanding of it would be clarified. Accordingly, much of what follows is a shared reflection on commitment itself, with the element of temporality as a recurring motif."Commitment," as this was generally understood and used by the group, referred to an interpersonal promise, rather than to a pledge to some ideal or abstract entity. It was used to refer to promises made to God (for example, through baptism orthe profeSsion of Vows in religious, life) or to another person (as in marriage or family or friendship). A strict dichotomy was not intended here: thus, promises made to God have their human expres-sion and commitment to persons has a God-ward dimension. The term "com-mitment," therefore, was used both for the fundamental option and for other interpersonal involvements. When the focus is more specific, the statement is qualified in some way to indicate the proper context in which it should be read_. The following pages, l~hen, are the record of a dialogue, arranged in such a way as to encourage the reader to enter into the flow of ideas and to challenge and qualify and enlarge upon them. As every discussion does, this one" flowed freely and occasionally rambled down some p,retty tangential paths. But in retrospe6t the group's reflections seem to fall under four headings: the challenge to commitment; commitment and human life; commitment and time; and the institutionalization of commitment. Commitment in a Changing World ! !!49 I. "The Challenge to Commitment~ Commitment is challenged today ~'rom many sides and o~ man)~ grounds. The following are a sampling of some ~f the objections which the participants observed. It should be noted that these alleged difficulties spring from both theoretical and existential ~considerat'ions. Some comments in this section deal with the waning of commitments once made, rather than with the reluctance to make them. ~ - E~,en our getting together to talk about commitment might be a sign that the concept is threadbare! ' -What I bear people saying today is that to promise to love someone forever . is to lock,-one's feelings into rigidity or into duty, and thus to destroy them. They are willing to say something like, "I do love you, but it's irrelevant~to think about whether I'll love you tomorrow. In fact, ~I won't be able to love you as well now if you make me think about tomorrow. What moves me to say I love you today may not move me tomorrow." -That's right. Sartre is known as the philosopher of commitment, and his whole point is not that we shouldn't be committed, but that we should be °~uthentic in our commitment. We shouldn't be hypocritical~ that is, we shouldn't say, "I love you and I'll, love you forever," and then when we stop loving, continueoto pretend that we do. The thing to do is to say, "1 love you now, and I'll be faithful to that now and take each day as it comes.:' -It seems to me, though, that there are a lot of perversions in the name of authenticity and honesty! In any kind of relationship you're going to have to go through some very dry, dead times., there can be just total periods of deadness in every living°~relationship. ~ -What I think is interesting, then, is how long do you let something be? .How long can you hope that the deadness is going to revive? That's the key thing. Even though.spring follows winter, if you had a winter that went on for twen-ty years, I'd begin to wonder. The point is, how much suffering and how much deadness can there be in a living relationship? -Or,.what if the deadness turns into something really destructive? We're all familiar, too, with the joylessness of some "committed" peoplewthe teeth-gritted, fist-clenched determination to "stick it out!" -We need creative ways to deal with genuine ~nguish. creative ways to live ~ the winter of~ commitment as well as the summer. It is not necessarily hypocritical to~ sustain a commitment through anguish it may be an authentic experience. -Anguish in commitment is one thing, but what about sheer indifference? The absence of any feeling at all is much harder to interpret than suffering. At .least the latter is a sign of some kind of lifel- -I wonder if some of the situations you describe, of the feeling of deadness or the absence of a relationship that had been vital, may not be experiences of , what the mystics used to call the "dark night.'°' Underneath the present pain . is.the conviction that it's still all right, and that somehow or other I'm being 850 / Review for Religious, I"olume 34, 1975/6 weaned off of one level of relationship, and after I go through this thing, this inertia or deadness, it's going to come out all right, But part of the commit-ment is to kind of "hang in there" when the fruits of the love are no longer tangiblemprecisely out of love--and out of the realization that the relationship is going to be deeper at the end. But 9ne of the cultural obstruc-tions we face is that we want to live in a constant positive feeling, a kind of constant ecstacy, a resurrection experience without the crucifixion. But that is just not a realisti~ expectation, given the human condition. -Another reason that people are constantly disappointed is because of the way that they define love. If they define it in the context of growth, of somehow meeting each Other's needs for happiness, joy, and affection, then that's a very limited context. Because then, if their needs aren't fulfilled, they conclude that love is no longer there. And they go on to redefine the relationship: they say, "I was infatuated with that person," even though they had said previously that they loved him. And then they start hunting for another relationship that will fulfill their needs, so that somehow love is not defined in the context of "forever with one person," but in the context of moving from one to another to another and growing as they .move. -That's an illustration of the concept of "Protean man, popularized by Robert Lifton. In this theory, modern man is like the mythical god Proteus, ,, who constantly changed shapes in order to conceal his identity. In its modern application it means that man constantly changes from one commitment to another without any continuity: every relationship is necessarily short-lived and without effect on what followsl If that is an accurate description of man, the human person, then any discussion of permanency in commitment is irrelevant. The only thing Protean man is permanently committed to is non-commitment! -Such a person is a perpetual wanderer. Kierkegaard uses the symbol of a butterfly moving from one experience to another, never investing itself-~-just kind of tasting and moving on. -The Protean-man image does give a picture, though; of many people who ex-perience themselves as. fragmented, without a sufficiently.clear self-identity to make an enduring and deeply-felt commitment. To talk about commit-ment to people who are devoid of self-confidence or of a firm self-concept is to raise an issue which isn't even a real option for them. -There is a diversity in contemporary experience, though, and I wonder if people don't resist making commitments for very different reasons--but reasons which come together in ways that may be interesting, especially for psychologists. I would identify two challenges to commitment, that from idealism and that from despair. The first is the situation of those who enter-tain a larger hope for humanity than human commitments seem to provide. , They are saying that only commitment i~ holding them back from a grander human adventure; it's reducing their f~eedom. 'But on the other hand, and perhaps even hidden in the first position somehow, is the challenge to com-mitment from contemporary~despair, articulated perhaps in behaviorism. In Commitment in a Changing Worm / 851 this view all talk of commitment is naive: human persons are not really capable of that much. Or our aspirations are necessarily limited because of what we see in society and in the surrounding culture. -To add to what you've said, there is another kind of pseudo-idealism that is promulgated in all sorts of ways. For example, the daily "soap opera" presents a picture of romantic love in which the most important thing seems to be to respond to each new lover that comes along lest one limit one's fulfillment; It would be impossible not to be conditioned by a daily.diet of that sort of thing. It's really akin to the quest for personal fulfillment above all else that is presented in more sophisticated ways by many, forms of the media and popular entertainment. -To change the topic somewhat, the difficulty which some people experience with commitment in midlife may really be due to an over-commitment in youth. In the idealism of adolescehce some people seem to over-extend themselves and then have a kind of"energy crisis" later. But this is endemic to the human condition. When the slowdown occurs, you sort of re-negotiate your priorities and plan how you will use your remaining energies. -Yes, when people are leaving commitments, are they in fact withdrawing from over-commitments? Have they over-subscribed their selfhood in a com-mitment which is too tied-in with a cultural formulation? If they have over-invested their personhood in a fixed notion of what their commitment was supposed to be, according to .what their church taught them or their culture taught them or their parents taught them, then withdrawal from that com-mitment is no great loss. -The situation we~described earlier, of a lack of self-identity or self-worth, may also lead to over-commitment. In other words, if I find it all a shambles inside, I'll put on a religious habit or awedding ring and at least I'll know a little bit of who I am. Then I'll be discernible as Sister or Mrs. or Father. II. Commitment and Human Life Havihg dwelt at length on the difficulty of making commitments and of preserving their vitality, the discussion moved to a description of commitment itself and of the role it plays or can play in human life and development. This portion of the dialogue presupposed some basic assumptions about human nature and human capacities, assumptions which were merely hinted at without being explored. -I wonder if the whole question of whether or not commitment is possible, or wise, isn't a meaningless question.After all, people make commitments, and they want to make them. It may be a problem to know what to do about them when they are made, but in fact people do make them all the time. Even those who refuse in principle to make any commitments make a kind of commitment to non-commitment. -I doubt that it's as simple as that. There are persons who are in some sense non-committed. If I were to try to characterize such a person I think I would Review for Religious, l,'olume 34, 1975/6 say that he or she goes through the same stages that a committed person goes through, only the non-committed person goes through these stages with a series of people. The committed person.goes through these stages with one person. We could, of course, say that the non-committed person goes through a series of commitments, but that nonetheless he or she is not a "committed person." -You mean that in the stages of, say, "highs and lows" or~"light and darkness" the uncommitted person attempts to re-experience the highs with another .person? -Yes, something like that. This is what I would want to say is a picture of a non-committed person. -:But you draw your picture assuming that it is better to be committed than non-committed in this way, Isn't that precisely the question we're asking? What is wrong with moving from one commitment to another? Isn't it possi-ble that we are .even called from one commitment to another? Isn't holding on to only one commitment stifling or narrowing or--especially if the one commitment proves destructive--isn't it a mistake to hold to it simply for the sake of holding to it? -I thi'nk we're going to go a~'ound in circles on that question unless we try to see what there is about our experience of human life that makes us want to make a commitment, that makes us even need to make commitments, and that makes us think that there is something good about living a commitment out to the end. For example, doesn't it have something to do with our ex-perience of being fragmented, of wanting to love with our whole heart and mind and strength and knowing that we are not yet whole? People say today that commitment 'makes love into a duty, and thereby undermines it. I don't think that that is so~ There are loves that awaken in us, that makeus yearn to be fait~hful forever. We have an inkling that it won't just "happen" that we will be'faithful, it won't just "turn out" that we will be faithful without our making some choices about that. That's why we make promises to love. We want to give our word to the one we love. We want to gather up our whole life, our future, and place it all in affirmation 0fwhat we love. It's a question of whether our freedom is powerful enough to stretch into the future. I cer-tainly can't wind it up like a clock and then let it go! I can't just choose to love forever and then it's all settled: "I will love forever." So I commit myself, I give my pledge, my word, my promise. "To commit" means "to send with," to place somewhere, to entrust, to dwell. I give or send my word, and in so doing I entrust myself in a way to the other. Now my word calls to me from within the other. I have given the one I love a kind of claim over my love.,It is no longer a question of my simply being faithful to or consistent with, my own resolution. It is a question of my being faithful to the other in whom I dwell by my word. When my inclinations to love falter, there is the ongoing call to me from the other. -Could I add that this all makes sense because I continue to want to love, even though I. recognize my own weakness? It is not a matter of love now being Commitment in a Changing World / 053 reduced only to duty. I want to love, though the feelings and emotions that made loving easy at one time have receded for now. Kierkegaard says something like, "Duty then comes as an old friend," helping me to do what it is I most deeply want to do though cannot do without the call to faithfulness which is grounded in my having given my word. -I wonder if we could say that commitment is necessary in human lif~ not in spite of the fact that we are weak and fragmented and sinful, but because of that. If we were in paradise, commitment would be unnecessary. I remember in some recent discussions on commitment being struck by the image of ourselves as mountain climbers. Commitment is like the process of getting in your stake up higher so that you can pull yourself up. Ideally perhaps we could just walk up the mountain, but in reality we are not the kind of people who can walk up mountains. -That's an interesting idea, to think of commitment in relation to our sin-fulness. On the one hand, I think the desire to be whole in relation to the one we love--whether God or a human person--is a sign of what is good in human persons, a sign of what is true about our being, Commitment, then, if it helps to hold us in fidelity, in truthful love, serves to make us whole and to continue in relation to another. On the other hand, there is something about our desire to be whole or to be satisfied, or even to be fully alive, that is a sign of the evil, the woundedness, in us. For our desires are insatiable, and they can pull us or press us to fidelity or to fickleness. Because we are never satisfied, we can be drawn offcourse on the mountain. Without the stake, to use your image, we can try this way and that up the slope, but gradually simply lose our grip, neither dwelling happily.~ in .one place nor climbing to another. -We don't~have to talk about that just in terms of sin, although that's clearly part of our experience. Wherever there is any person with a fallible will, with shakeable freedom, it makes sense for that person to give her word. As you said a minute ago, that's yielding to someone a claim, and we do that in situations where we think we might need to be claimed, The whole point of giving one's word is to Strengthen the one who gives it, and to assure the one who receives it, and to have a way of integrating one's self and expressing one's self and one's love. When God gives His word to us, however, it's not because He has a shakeable will, but because we need assurance. It's very important for us to receive His word, to know the incredible truth that He yields to us a claim even on His love. -We know our own love as embattled, in a sense, and there are built into human life counterforces to love. We know our weakness, and we cannot guarantee our fidelity, but we want to try to build in supports against the tendency to infidelity which we recognize in ourselves. We go beyond where we are, perhaps, (like the mountain climber throwing his stake) and express and affirm what we want to be though we know we are not yet. Sometimes the fact that we give our word in the pres~ence of others also increases the chance that we will love against adversity. 864 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 -Yes, and the fear of death through commitment (since we may find that it sours or grows cold), is perhaps importantly counterbalanced by a recognition that there is another kind of death which non-commitment can entail. If there is a danger that passion (devotion, power of feeling) will die in the process of commitment, so al~o is there danger that without commitment passion will be wasted, diffused in a superficial search for an intimacy that cannot.always be had in commitment, but can never be had without it. -You make commitment sound so good that I worry about persons' wanting to make a commitment and sort of going around looking for something to commit themselves to. I agree with what you are saying, but it presupposes a kind of prior call to commitment. That is, we can't just decide we'regoing to commit ourselves and then pick something or someone to commit ourselves to. No, I think commitment at the level you are talking about makes sense only if we experience ourselves awakened in love for someone who seems worthy of our commitment, whose loveableness calls to our love and our freedom. -Yes, and as we said earlier, that is part of the problem of commitment now. Persons despair of their finding anything worthy of their commitment. Everything, in a way, depends on the revelation of persons to persons of their beauty and ioveableness. That's why it makes sense to me that everything, in a deeper way, depends on God's revelation of His beauty and loveableness. -And on His revelation that unconditional love and commitment and fidelity are possible because He loves us with a faithful and unconditional love. And perhaps on His revelation, too, that we are somehow enabled by His gift, His grace, to respond to Him and to one another with fidelity in unconditional love. -This is perhaps neither here nor the.re, but it just occurred to me that if we were todo a study of great committed people, we might find that at least one ingredient in their lives was an awareness of something beautiful, of someone beautiful. Maybe we would find that ingredient in tension with a kind of restlessness, too. There may be a combination of feeling very gifted es-pecially through love and of being haunted by a restlessness which has something to do with feeling capable of doing something because of being loved and because of loving. The participants recognized that a great deal more needs to be said about the nature of human persons, human love and commitment. Everyone wanted to underline the importance of some kind of call to commitment, of commit-ment as a response, but of commitment as a process, a way, rather than an achievement or an end. Concern was expressed to clarify commitment as not just a means to one's own wholeness, but as a means to be wholly for another. A need was expressed to address further the difficulties,in making a commit-ment and in keeping a commitment, and to address these in as concrete a way as possible. A caution was introduced because of the failure thus far to dis-tinguish different kinds and degrees of commitment. Distinctions were offered Commitment in a Changing World / 855 in terms of conditional and unconditional, temporary and permanent, relative and absolute, instrumental and core commitments. The task of personal dis-cernment as well as fidelity regarding priority of commitments was noted. At this point, however, the discussion shifted to more explicit questions of com-mitment and time, of commitment lived through a lifetime. III. Commitment and Time A recurring theme throughout the discussions was the experience of time in human commitments. Again and again participants struggled with both con-crete examples of change in commitment and love, and with theoretical inter-pretations of human time and duration. Even a theology of time seemed to become important in considering issues of Christian commitment. -We spoke in the beginning of the problem of time and change within com-mitment. If I change (which I inevitably do), how can I pledge myself to re-main the same in my love for another? How can I even say I will continue to perform the deeds of love? What if new circumstances make that.iml~ossible? Or what if the one I love changes? Am I ever justified in changing my com-mitment, even in breaking it? I for one would like to focus on just these questions for awhile. -Yes, what about the current theory that commitments made by me when I was young are no longer binding when I become mature? I'm not the same person I was, and so I can no longer be held to what an earlier self pledged. -Is our understanding of the personal self at stake here? If so, I hold for some kind of continuity of the self, some kind of continuing self-identity. I think I am the same person I was as a childmeven though I am obviously also profoundly different. I am, therefore, responsible in the present for com-mitments I made in the past. -Always responsible, do you think? Or even if always responsible, always still obligated? -I think we need to be more concrete here. Surely it can be the case that even .though I am in some sense the same person throughout my lifetime, yet I can undergo sufficient change (or the situation can change drastically) so that, for example,~ I am unable to complete my commitment without clear destructiveness to others or to myself to an extent that outweighs whatever is to be gained by completing it. Or surely I can change so that my way of ex-pressing my committed love needs to be modified. It doesn't seem to me the most important question is whether or not a change in commitment is ever justified. It obviously can be justified if, for example, it becomes impossible to keep a commitment, or if a prior commitment conflicts with keeping this commitment, or if this commitment deepens into a commitment which fulfills it but is beyond ~. ,, -I agree with you, but you realize you are on what ethicists might call a slippery slope. While it is true that changes in commitment can be called for, we are also inclined to do a lot of rationalizing in that regard. I'm not 856 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 suggesting we should keep all commitments just because of fear of that. I'm only adding a note of caution. -We obviously can't delineate here exact descriptions of justified commitment-changes or unjustified commitment-changes. In fact, that might distort the whole question. It is important for us, though, to affirm that a person can in good faith discern a call to change.commitment. That change can be accounted for in terms of fidelity, not infidelity~ There is a kind of fundamental obligation which each person has to discern in con-science what is the way of fidelity. And that is never an easy task. On the other hand, it is important for us to affirm that every difficulty experienced in commitment (even terrible suffering at times) does not signify either a need for change or a justification of change. -Before we go further into the question of difficulties in keeping com-mitments, could we say something more about the beginnings of com-mitment? When, for example, do we know that we are capable of making profound commitments? Whether commitments remain binding, and whether they prove to be fruitful, depends to a great extent on our capacity for making them wisely and well in the first place. -I' don't think we always kno~ when a commitment actually begins. Its begin-ning doesn't always coincide with an explicit making of a promise or a vow. Sometimes we experience commitment as something that has taken place in us before we become aware of it at a conscious level. I may one day discover, for example (perhaps on a day when I see you in great need of my help), that indeed I have given you my heart in friendship; and I can now choose to ratify the commitment I find I have already made. -We certainly would want to note that commitment does not always begin with its external legal or ceremonial declaration; The latter is surely impor-tant, but we all know of commitments made long before their public celebra-tion and of commitments which are finally made long after their public form has been sealed. -If we look at the kind of maturity needed to make lifelong commitments, it is clear that certain healthy psychological levels of maturity are neededmand perhaps even faith levels of maturity. Yet I can't help resisting some of the present insistence on psychological, health as a basis for all commitment. While affirming it, I want to add that if the role of commitment is as we suggested earlier--namely, to help us to become whole in relation to another--then it cannot have full maturity or wholeness as its prerequisite. If I find commitment necessary for maturation (as does Eric Erikson, for example, in his presentation of the stages of human development), then it is clear that it cannot wait upon full maturity for its making. -That point must be made (with your same caution) in regard to Christian commitment as well. It probably bears pondering that Jesus declared, "I am not called to come to the healthy, but to those who are sick." And then there is Paul's reminder, "Who of you are well-born?" Though again I say this with the usual qualificati0.ns. Commitment in a Changing World / 857 -We might put ~the question this way: What kind of person makes a com-mitment? A strong person or a weak person? A person who is integrated or a person who is aware of fragmentation? I suspect our answer must grasp both alternatives. A person who makes a commitment wisely and well is one who is at home with himself or herself, who experiences' self-worth, etc. But perhaps also such a person experiences some uneasiness, some distress, some fragmentation. This relates to what we said before of the yearning of love to become whole, to deal with fragmentation. ,~ -We keep saying that commitment is a way of becoming whole, a way of growing in love. Clearly something more has to be seen in that regard, because we certainly have not in the past emphasized this aspect of commit-ment. The language of "states" of life, for example, was almost in opposi-tion to it. Now, it seems to me, we are trying to acknowledge that commit-ment (for example, in religious lifeor in marriage) does not mean that a love is once and for all sealed in union with the one loved. -Let me say something.here. I know people who think their first marriage is a 'trial run,' and then they enter a second and a third. Finally it dawns on them that it is marriage that is the problem; it's not the other person that's the problem. When I say marriage is the problem I don't mean here what some would mean--namely, that marriage undermines relationships, and'so forth. No, I mean that marriage is the way to relation, but if it isn't understood that way; it is no wonder that it doesn't work for many. If.t can put it this way, there is in marriage what many of you would understand as a kind of novitiate in selflessness. But that's only the beginning. -Yes, that's something of what I'm trying to say. Commitment is not the end of a story, but in a very real way the beginning (or at least an extremely im-portant point of impetus and direction along the way), We make com-mitments so that we may learn to love, grow in"love,,.There may be nothing more beautiful in all creation than a courageous love, but it is not born whole. The vows which have been characteristic of religious life or marriage, then, are ways of coming to love, means.for expanding one's mind and heart in order to grow into a great and wise love:. -But what assures that commitment will indeed lead that way? We simply must not pass over toolightly the very real problems that We saw earlier and that are being raised with sharpness and great credibility today. What if love finally is always unfaithful? What if the object of love finally always proves disappointing? What if commitment sours at least as often as it liberates? What if we who are created as always changing truly cannot bear the non-changing of commitment? -Wait a minute. Let me just say something about your last question. I think it is a pure and simple myth to say that our need for change can only be answered on a model of changing from one commitment to another (or remaining uncommitted, as I guess we described it before). In fact,.the ex-ample of this that we have had--Lifton's Protean mannis a perfect example of an experience of not changing. Let me explain what I mean. Protean man, 1~58 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 ~presumably, finds in each commitment he makes an inevitable ceiling--on his desires, his interest, his belief. Every time he engages himself in some project or in some love he comes to an end in an experience of inertia, dis-illusionment, lack of life. This proves intolerable--for it is indeed an ex-perience of the stopping of process and change in his life. To be free of this, he moves to yet another project or person. But notice that through this mov-ing from one thing to another he finally ends in cynicism, sadness, and a sense of the absurd. That hardly sounds like an overall experience of a living process! The truth is that within himself there is no process. Moving fran-tically from one thing to an6ther looks like life-process, but it never touches him inwardly; within himself he does not change. Nothing really is happen-ing inside. The possibility of something really new coming intoobeing, of real change in the heart of the self, may only occur in the process which commit-ment entails. Does that make any sense? -It may make more sense if you can say something more positive about what this process within commitment is. -Maybe we have to say something about the fabric of time which in a way forms the inner structure of commitment. In a way commitment," as everyone asserts, transcends time. It does have an element of the non-temporal-- or the eternal, if you will, or the non-changing (if that category is important to you).This is especially clear in a permanent commitment. -Isn't that what we mean when we say "forever?" We intend it as a way of transcending time rather than as a time statement~ We're saying, it seems to me, that "I will not let the 'conditions of time or the circumstances at the level of duration erode that which I now say about myself to you," -Yes, but let me quickly add that there is also in commitment, even and perhaps especially in permanent commitment, an element that is wholly tem-poral- that is, a reality that is stretched out and changing in time. Now this is to say that something is on the one hand. eternal about commitment, and something is on the other hand changing. Or better, something about the whole reality of the commitment radically changes. It might help to talk about it in terms of stepping into a relationship with the other. When I make a commitment to another person, I step into a new relationship with him or her. This relati6nship is qualified radically as "forever." I have given my word, and thus myself, in a way that is forever. Yet I, on my sideof the rela-tion, will change, and the one who rec(ives my word, on the other side of the relation, will also change through time. This means that the relation, too, will change: It does not, however, change into non-relation. It is qualified in new ways--for example, by a growth in intimacy. Certain aspects of the relation may emerge and others recede. One might almost draw an analogy between virtue in an individual person and virtue in a relationship. In both realities there is development, and we need a language to describe the growth of thee reality of relation as well as the growth of the reality of an individual person. Perhaps the virtue of a relationship is intimacy. -That makes a lot of sense. Your picture of commitment gets to the on- Commitment in a Changing World / 859 tological. I am now in relation to someone. I could never go back to the self that I was before the commitment except by saying that I now formally step out of the realm of being which has been created by the commitment. Even then I do not go back to that self, for I am forever in some way qualified by having made the commitment. It is my self that really changes, yet remains myself. ~ -Yes. Could I try to say it again? When I make a commitment a new reality begins--the reality of relation to another. Then it is this relation that remains, but moves through time, changing, hopefully growing. It is not a reality separate from myself, nor an appendage to myself. It is myself in relation. As it grows, so do I become new, again and again, yet more fully and wholly what ,I already, am. -Could we add that aspects of growth and change include dimensions of the total personality--imagination, memory, feeling? -Now we are in a position to look at the negatives in commitment. If it in-volves life-process, then the diminishments experienced within it must have the possibility of being taken up into that process. We surely experience, for example, our commitments being choked of their life, or distracted from their life, or overwhelmed in some way. W( know what it means to have barriers grow up in the commitment-relation. In one sense, we must learn a kind of creativity in the liying out of commitment. If it is a way, then we must learn what it means to go along that way. So we must learn creative ways to deal with what chokes us, what irritates us, what renders us helpless. Too little time and attention have been given to learning such things. Perhaps this is because we did not see clearly enough that commitment is a way that must be gone along. -There is something else that arises in the process of commitment, and which is experienced as negative. I've been thinking a long time about this because I've watched so many people go through it. I've experienced it myself in small ways, too, and I think there are clues to be gotten which will tell us how to deal with it. I'm not talking about the exlSerie.nce of being angered or frustrated, and so forth. The only way I can describe it is in terms of being "unhitched" from commitment. It's like driving along in a cart with a horse drawing it, and then the hors~ becomes loose, unhitched, and off it goes on its glorious way, leaving you sitt~ing there. It's like the world going on, or the community going on, and you are left simply sitting there. But in this in-stance it is your life that is somehow sepa.r_ated from you. Perhaps it could also be described as an experience of a.vacuum. Nothing is happening, nothing changes. The lid is on the future, so that it closes in on you. The past is somehow cut off from you and left behind only to.be stared at from a dis-tance. All sense of really living is gone. You become an observer of your life, only able to watch yourself doing what you.do, not able to enter into your own life as a participant. As soon as we back off and only watch ourselves living our lives, it is all over, .unless we discover how to enter into it again. In a sense what must be done is more than "renewing commitment." It is rather 860 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 like jumping out of the cart and running after the horse. All 1 can do is use these figures of speech to describe this experience. It is the experience I have '-heard countless persons describe as "something missing." There must be ways to redeem even such time, to make it fruitful in the life-process which is our commitment-relation. Once again, however, we have not yet done much to help one another to find such ways. -Is.all of this to say that it is not possible to truly keep a commitment (if it is a commitment to love) unless we learn the ways of nurturing its life, of freeing our own life and love within and through it? Commitment is a way to love and freedom, but the present task is to chart more clearly the yet shadowed way which it is. I suppose we have said from the beginning in our discussions together that the way is constituted somehow by both light and darkness. It is, as others have said, the darkness which raises the question of fidelity--fidelity which is not just gritting one's teeth and remaining con-stant, but which continues to believe in the light once seen andto watch and to wait and in some sense to serve that light even though we are not at times ourselves able to see it. Some discussion ensued as to how commitment may have the power to un-leash in us the springs of love and action. Attention was given to the role of forgiveness in the life-process of commitment. Finally, however, the .par-ticipants turned to a set of questions which had arisen from time to time throughout the sessions. These questions centered on communal dimensions of commitment, the implications of commitment for society at large, and the ex-istential, concrete framework for commitment. IV. The Institutionalization of Commitment When a commitment is made, it takes life in space and time, a given historical setting and era, within a framework provided by the free decision of the participants, community relationships, society and culture at large. Therefore, when we talk about a commitment to love God or another person, we have to deal with certain structures to which we commit ourselves as well. In this portion of their discussion the participants considered specific, issues regarding membership requirements for religious communities, structural changes and their implications for a community's understanding of its bwn commitment, and so forth. This led to a consideration of underlying questions of priority in commitments, implementation of commitments, and Church regulation of religious life and of marriage. A continuing focus was on the in-carnati0nal dimension of commitment. -A lot of what we,have said so.far applies most clearly to a commitment to love--to love God and to love another person or persons. But there is a whole area which"is just as problematic today as the fundamental commit-ment to love. That's the area of the structures we commit ourselves to--the structures which are, in a w.ay, part and parcel of our commitment to love because they are the concrete forms of living and acting that we commit Commitment in a Changing World ourselves to as an expression of love and as a means to love. Now, for exam-ple, I know many young religious today who have no problem with knowing themselves called to and responding in an unconditional commitment to God. But they have a lot of problems with the structures they find that com-mitment tied to in, for example, a given religious community. I'm just think-ing of some that I have lived with. They understand their permanent com- ~.mitment very differently from the way I understood it (and perhaps the way I understand it now). They see that the only absolute commitment they make is to God, and if they perceive that God calls them beyond their present religious community, then they must leave it (though I'm not saying that they're planning on doing that--only that it remains open as a possibility). -Well, in a sense there can be no denying the validity of that view. It is only God who can call us to absolute love and commitment. All other com-mitments are (or at least in a Christian view should be) relative to a commit-ment to God. The .problem is in discerning what "relative" means here. It means, of course, "related to." It means that the whole raison d'etre for them is their prior commitment to God. But it can also mean that the com-mitment'to God is in some way essentially expressed in these other com-mitments. It surely means, when we are talking about commitment to love other persons, that those commitments (at least to love, if not to live in cer-tain patterns of life expressive of that love) are forever--just as our commit-ment for God is forever. -There are many Sides to this question, and they are all in some sense perplex-ing. We can't on the one hand keep moving through life saying our commit-ment is to God and never really give ourselves to anyone else or never really yield our love for God to .concrete enduring patterns of life which express that love. On the other hand, our commitment to God cannot reify itself in a narroffly defined, immediate context which we refuse to see can and sometimes must be modified in order to be faithful to God. -The question is perplexing in the concrete, but at least what we have said thus far about priority of commitments, the relation of one commitment to another, etc., seems fairly clear to me in theory. -But concretely, we have to take account of the testimony of persons who are anguished now in their discernment of what is fidelity and what is infidelity. We mentioned those who perceive their call from God in a way that makes them necessarily chafe against certain patterns of life and activity which their community may still think are important. But there are also persons who feel that the religious community to Which they committed themselves has changed so much that they can no longer in conscience remain faithful within it. And then there is the problem of the dissonance not only between individual and community but between community and Church. We all know of the tension often felt now by communities within the Church who wish to see their fidelity to God in terms of fidelity to the Church, and yet who find a strange disparity at times between the two. If we didn't take any of these~ seriously--if tlie pattern of our commitments was not seen by us as a62 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/6 im, portantly interwoven--we could opt for whatever we wanted at any time. But we obviously, both in marriage and in religious life, are offered the task by the Spirit today of finding the ways of fidelity within a whole pattern of relationships, ~all of which are held in our relation to,God. -I want to say that this kind of tension, even the experience of being "regulated," can work both ways. If everybody got up every morning and defined marriage or religious life in their own way, there would be chaos. Or more importantly, there would be total isolation. We can neither ignore our tradition, our interrelationships, our call, ultimately, to communion with all persons, nor distort it by mindless submission to what was intended as a point of interpersonal discernment and response. -You know, it might help to look at this for a moment as if we were discern-ing for ourselves, within the Church, what God is calling us to. After all, there is a sense in which we can do what we want within the Church. Groups of persons can discern themselves called in many different ways, and as long as these ways are authentic ways of living the Christian life they are free to embrace them, and to embrace them communally. The issue of canonical recognition is not necessarily a central issue--certainly not for everyone in the Church. If I want to live in poverty or chastity or obedience for three years and three years only, I can do it, and the Church doesn't say aye or nay. If I want to live celibacy but not poverty (in the usual sense), I can do it, and again the Church will neither command me nor forbid me. But it is ex-tremely important, it seems to me, to add that that does not rule out the possibility that some persons within the Church (myself included) will still want to gather up their whole future in a permanent commitment, and to make that commitment in terms of a life of poverty and celibacy and obedience within community. It is important that those who are called to that continue to find a way to celebrate it within the Church. Other forms of life may also need to be celebrated within the Church, but to be open to new ways need not (in fact, surely should not) mean to close off present ways. -Yes, I can affirm that and add that, within this context, there still remain practical decisions for each community of persons such as you describe. For example, the ever recurring questions of whether a community should have associate members or temporary members or married members are questions that simply involve practical decisions (based on discernment in prayer, of course) for a community. -You mean that a community, for example, must discern for itself in terms of its understanding of its call from God and the individual ways in which its members are called to participate in that communal call--must discern whether it is to have an associate membership or a third order or some other departure from present practice? -Yes, why not? There is plenty of precedent for that kind of thing, and room for many variations on a theme. Different cultural contexts, different com-munal ministries, and many other factors will all make a difference in a corn, munity's discernment of such things. There is no one law written in heaven Commitment in a Changing Worm / 863 about them to which all must conform. But it is important that a community take seriously a truly communal discernment and decision in this regard. Or even if a community postpones decisions on some of these kinds of questions, it is important for it to know why it postpones them. -If we agree that structures must follow on life experience, perhaps this is the time in history to reflect on the experience we now have of members who would prefer a status other than that conferred by "final vows"; that is, they want to renew their vows every three years or so in an "ongoing com-mitment." If we would re-structure our communities to include a core group and a transient group, we would eliminate some of the necessity for dispen-sations with their negative connotations. Maybe this is the Spirit directing these young people and somehow we as a church have to respond to them. -I think I agree in principle, but somehow I'm wondering wherewe are as a "core group" right now. There is the real question of where we are right now: is there strength at the center, so that the core could truly enliven the whole structure? I mean I can only think of a half dozen people that I really think are the core. By the core group I do not mean people who are going to stay in religious life; I am talking about those who are alive enough to share life in some way. This is not a pessimistic view, it's just saying that right now we are in a phase where it may be necessary to get ourselves together first. On the other hand, maybe extending membership to.associates may be a way of getting ourselves together. -I worry, though, about 'the traditional problems of first and second class citizens. You have to have a tremendous inner peace and sense of who you are and what you are about to avoid those kinds of difficulties. -As a matter of fact, it has been a policy in our religious community since 1971 thatwe would permit women who wished to do so to associate themselves with us in a kind of informal membership. The thought was that if we permitted this to develop spontaneously :for a few years, we would ac-cumulate enough data to enable us to structure something which would be mutually supportive and realistic. However, after more than two years we did a survey and found out that the total number of such applicants was almost zero. So should we go out and recruit them? How do you strike a middle ground between permitting something to emerge and institutionaliz-ing it prematurely? -One way traditionally has b~en to find ways to share the religious com-munity's gifts, to share life with others through retreats, courses in 'spiriiuality, days of prayer, collaboration in ministry, etc. In this way sodalities and third orders have originated, informally at first, and then more formally. The spirit of the religious community and its characteristic spirituality is shared with a larger circle of people who may then desire a kind of membership or more formal association. -You mentioned the characteristic spirituality of a religious community . There is some talk today about the blurring of distinctions between various communities and between celibates and non-celibates, clerics and non- 064 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 clerics, so that conceivably institutional distinctions could be wiped out. On the one hand, the elimination or relativization of distinctions emphasizes the basic Unity of Christians; on the other hand, the individual groups emphasize the rich diversity of gifts and graces. I think this is a situation ~where we should proceed somewhat pragmatically, not rushing to reduceall religious communities to one group, but rather asking ourselves what is congruous .with the unity and diversity of the gospel. Religious communities are distinct in this, at least, that their members have freely joined them, rather than be-ing born into them, and this deliberate choice is a kind of witness. -Yes~, we have to ask ourselves, what do we experience ourselves being called to, individually and as a community? What we designate as the "essentials" and the "accidentals" of our commitment should be a reflection of that call. And the fact that religious life was institutionalized in the form of certain es-sentials and accidentals tells us that, at least in the past and apparently to some extent today, people feel themselves called in terms of certain specific graces; for example, they are called to a life of celibacy or to evangelical poverty or to,live in community in Christ's name. -Another aspect of the institutionalization of commitments and their public expression is its value to society itself. We sense that somehow there is some damage to the objective order when a commitment is betrayed. Somehow . the fabric of s~ociety, of the whole body--be it the body politic or the Body of Christ--is strengthened or weakened by our fidelity to, or our betrayal of, commitment. The climate of mutual trust is strengthened or weakened. -Many people find their ability to remain faithful enhanced or threatened by the presence or absence of community support. Ongoing commitment in-volves continuous re-election, re-commitment, re-selection, and all of those . with whom and to whom we have committed ourselves figure in this process. Maybe the parable of the seed falling on good ground and on rocky ground, and so forth, is helpful here. For example, it seems to me not impossible that oa community could be bad ground. It could be the cause of the death of someone's commitment within him; if the community demanded too much from him or distracted him in some way, it could choke the commitment. Or the community COuld be just a dry wasteland. ~On the positive side, the community could be very fertile .soil indeed. If I were to describe the kind of support that I would expect or appreciate on a day-to-day level, I wouldn't look for high points such as the discussion we've been having these days. What~ I would look for in the members of my com-munity would be a kind of resonance, a sense that they were in sympathy with what I was doing, and supported, the .efforts I was ~making. I want to share a, common understanding with the members of my community about such things as who we are as a community, and why we are together, even though it isn't necessary to articulate it very .often. -But besides furnishing one another that basic affirmation, there also has to be an openness to the new, a willingness to challenge one another to reach for greater heights of generosity. I guess religious have to call one another to Commitment in a Changing World faith, as well as calling other members of the Christian community. -Perhaps our concept of ministry has to be re-thought or re-integrated into the Christian synthesis in terms of a call to faith. We have described commit-ment in terms of "radicality" and the committed person in terms of "marginality" vis-a-vis certain cultural norms which are often uncritically accepteduthese terms suggest a kind of presence, a~ very challenging and a personal presence. It isn't so much a question of the apostolate being done, but of understanding and living fully the kind of lives we are called, to and sharing that. Flowing out of that will be specific kinds of service: the healing ministry, teaching, or whatever. -Yes, there is a correlation between the diversity of commitment and diversity in ministry. Sometimes the stance of love is to stand alone, to be in protest; sometimes the stance is to .be a mediator, or to be co-opted in some way. Even while we're allowing for individual insights and calls within Ch°ristian service, there's such a thing as the total stance of the community. Sotit still seems important to me that we have the reference points of some specifications of commitment. Whatever the stance is, whatever it is that we're about, however we try to blend our lives together, it has something to do with being poor, something to do with celibate fLiendship, something to do with abandoning ourselves in union with the obedience of Jesus Christ which .at least implies listening to something beyond ourselves. Further reflections of the participants concerned the relationship of com-mitment and ministry and the necessity of a genuine interiority in apostolic service. Throughout the discussion there was a sense that the multitude of commitments which an individual, makes must be integrated in their inward reality and their outward expression. Toward a Conclusion As with every good discussion, the participants ended with a touch of reluc-tance: there was a sense of incompleteness, a desire to explore further paths only noted in passing, to qualify assertions that were perhaps too confident or too hesitant, and to raise new questions which might expand, the, horizons of understanding. Hence the discussion eludes neat summarization and does not provide ready solutions or conclusions. Some.threads did recur again and again, however, and it may be helpful to recall them here. First of all, promising is a persistent phenomenon. Despite all of the dif-ficulties attendant on making a commitment today and of living it out faithfully in an ever-changing context, people are still making them. Hence, the need to commit oneself to another seems to spring from some deep human need and instinct, something deeper than a merely cultural basis would ex-plain. Moreover, the participants in this discussion shared among themselves a strong "commitment to commitment": while they were not unmindful of the risks and hazards of commitment, they all affirmed its possibility and value in human life. Furthermore, they affirmed that interpersonal commitment must a66 / Review for. Religious, !/olume 34, 1975/6 be understood as the beginning of a relationship, a relationship that can be ex-pected to unfold gradually, in response to new circumstances. Such an evolv-ing relationship may well include periods of darkness and dryness which must be integrated into the whole dynamism of growth. As commitments move through time, there are tensions inherent in their continued existence, tensions between continuity and change, fragmentation and unity, spontaneity and pattern, contract and gift. In the face of our~per-sonai experience of fragmentation and conflict, we experience simultaneously the inability and the need to pledge our word. The framework which society and community furnish for our commitments may be experienced at one time as supportive and at another as restrictive. We may feel drawn by an invitation or bound by a legal agreement. Furthermore, our ability to commit ourselves deeply and without reserve is intimately linked to our own sense of self-identity and self-worth. The context of commitment is also integral to its nature: our promises must be incarnated in space and time. While structures follow life, they can also be supportive of life. That is, commitments should only~be formalized or institutionalized if they are genuine and viable, but then the framework which community ~and society provide must support them. Although structures are relative, the process of changing them should be a thoughtful and prayerful one. There is no virtue in either changing structures or in leaving them un-changed; what is important is their congruity to gospel, to the needs of our day, and to our fallible human resources. Where do we go from here?'The really basic questions~in life have a way of reasserting themselves again and again under new guises, and requiring fresh attention. Perhaps this is because the only entirely satisfactory response to such life-questions is the personal one, made in the context of one,s own relationships of family, community, and society, Each of us must question the possibility and value of a lifetime commitment in his or her own iife~: can I live a fully human and a fully Christiah life without it? BIBLIOGRAPHY Beha, Marie, O.S.C. "Paradoxes of Commitment," Sisters Today, 46 (August-September, 1974), ¯pp. I-9. Burrell, David, C.S.C. "A Fresh Look at 'Perpetual Commitment,' "Sisters Today, 41 (April, 1970), pp. 457-461. ~ Clarke, Thomas E., S.J. "Jesuit Commitment--Fraternal Covenant?" Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, II1 (June, 1971),'pp. 70-102. ~. "The Crisis of Permanent Consecration," Sisters Today, 41 (August-September, 1969), pp. 1-15. __. New Pentecost or New Passion? The Direction of Religious Life Today. New York: Paulist Press, 1973. Coville, Walter J. "The Psychological Development of Tentative Commitment to the Priesthood and the Religious'~ Life," Seminary Department Relevant Report. National Catholic Educational Association (June, 1972). Commitment in ,a Changing World / 867 Farley, Margaret A., R.S.M. A Study in the Ethics of Commitment within the Context of Theories of Human Love and Temporality. Unpublished Ph.D. Dissertation. Yale Univer-sity, 1973. Haughey, John C., S.J: "Another Perspective on Religious Commitment," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 111 (June, 1971), pp. 103-119: Keniston, Kenneth. The Uncommitted. New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, 1960. Lifton, Robert Jay. "Protean Man." The Religious Situation 1969. Edited by Donald R. Cutler. Boston: Beacon Press, 1969. Marcel, Gabriel. Creative Fidelity. New York: Farrar, Straus, & Giroux, 1964. __. Being and Having, New York: Harper Torchbooks, 1965. Murphyr David M., ed. Seminary Newsletter, Supplement No. 3. National Catholic Educational Association (November, 1973). Orsy, Ladislas M., S.J. "Religious Vocation: Permanent or Temporary?" Sisters Today, 40 (February, 1969), pp. 347-349. Toffler, Alvin. Future Shock. New York: Random House, 1970. Van Kaam, Adrian, C.S.Sp. "'Life of the Vows: Commitment to a Lasting Life Style." Envoy, V (September, 1968), pp. 125-131. Westley, Richard J. "Fidelity and the Self," Sisters Today, 45 (April, 1973), pp: 482-489. __. "On Permanent Commitment," Ame~'ica (May 24, 1969). __. "The Will to Promise," Humanitas, VIII (February, 1972), p. 9-20. (N.B.: This entire issue of Humanitas is devoted to articles on "Commitment and Human Development.") Space Fora Rose: Spiritual Ecology Sister Mary Seraphim, P.C.P.A. Sister Mary Seraphim is a Poor Clare of Perpetual Adoration and resides in the Sancta Clara Monastery; 4200 Market Ave., N.; Canton, OH 44714. "Time, then, is but the space for a rose to open to fullness." What is this element, time, which surrounds, sustains, measures and secures our existence? We cannot escape it under pain of death but we can never possess it securely. Money does not buy it nor can poverty prevent it. We love it but fume against its restraints. We are meant to transcend it but can only do so by fully integra.ting ourselves into it. Time is our most basic need if we are to be. We are born into time, :grow in its unfolding moments, die When our allotted span has been consumed. It is such a pervasive "given" that we take it for granted. God designed time as the cradle and matrix for His marvelously conceived creature: man. God does not need time to exist but He willed that humankind should need it. For man to exist as God dreamed him to be, he had to have time. There was a moment when he began to be--but he was not com-plete in that first moment. H.appily God does not expect him to be. For man is intended to delight God and His angels by coming to fullness in successive stages. Step by ~tep, we are to grow and develop. We could not do this without time. We could do it without clocks, perhaps, but not without the successive stages of change which time is. Kicking Against the Crib Somehow, somewhere, many of us have begun to harbor a rebellion against time, At least, I have, I began to see time as an uncontrollable tyrant which ruled me, drove me or caged me. I rebelled against it but, of course, quite uselessly. I could neither speed it up nor slow it down. Like a child in 868 Space for a Rose / a69 frustrated rage, I kicked against the very thing which should have been my security and source of hope. I failed to see time for what it really is: the shelter my Father has provided for me until I can~bear exposure to eternity. A sister-psychologist once gave a descriptive definition of time as that which allows things to happen bit by bit, Unless there existed the restraining and apportioning hand of time, everything would happen all at once.t I have enough difficulty trying to cope with troubles one by one. To have to face them all at one time? No thank you! Stop .Kicking and Look Gradually I began to wonder if it would be good to take a long and thoughtful look at this phenomenon known as time. Since it pervades my whole life as necessarily as the air I 'breathe, it seemed to merit some con-sideration. "I'll do it as soon as I have time," I decided. But come to think of it, time, like the poor, we always have with us! It was not that I had no time but that I was unwilling to use the time I had for that purpose. Revelation the first; I always have time. What am I doing with it? When I began to consider time,' I grew to be immensely grateful to my Father for this wondrous girl, Without it, I could not be me for I am a person who is always in the process of becoming. Like a rose~ I~need space to unfold; to happen. Fullness of being is not mine all at once or as asure possession. It is a gift Iam trying to grow into with each new second that is granted to me. Life is being continually re-given. And that, not from a distant heaven but by the Spirit of the Lord hovering, brooding over me. Indeed~ with each new breath I draw, this gift rises up from a wellspring inside me. It is the Spirit who breathes in me, who continues to hold me in being. And I take all this for granted ! What if all my being were given to me at once? Like the angels. Whatever I did I would do with my whole self--but only once. There would be no second doing, no future in which to try again, and, hopefully, do better: There would not be any hope! Instead my Father has allowed that I come to be bit by bit. I grow slow!y to maturity, making mistakes but learning as I go along.All the while I am sheltered, protected by the framework of time which keeps things~from closing in on me. Events happen at a pace and rhythm I am familiar with. Even when things seem to be coming at me too fast, I am called:to meet them only mo- ~ment by moment. It is when I .misuse my ability to mentally transcend time that I get into difficulties, Here and Only Now When I begin to picture future events (usually only possible ones) in the present mo.ment, I begin to get panicky. But if I am honest, I must admit that this not being truly reasonable. My Father may, or may not, have planned this imagined calamity as part of my future. But obviously He has not planned it as part of my present. He has grace for me to.handle the present events and that 870 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 is all He is asking of me. When the future becomes the present, it will bring with it all: its attendant graces. If I persist in projecting myself mentally into a non-existent future, I shall indeed have trouble--but not necessarily the kind that sanctifies. More likely, it will bethe type to foster neurosis! The same rule applies if I choose to live over a past that is no more. A child lives in wonder and contentment largely because he lives very much in the present. A small child has very little past to remember and an almost completely unknown future to contemplate. His horizons are limited to today--and, he is for the most part, happy. Do you recall those idyllic days of childhood when days were very long and a week a duration of unimaginable length? To wake in the morning was a thrilling moment (at least it was for me) with the gift of a whole day before me. What would happen that day I could hardly guess but I looked forward to finding out. As the years went by, the luster dimmed and I began to carry accumulated memories and worries into my new day. I began to darken the dawn by projecting storm clouds of anxiety onto the horizon. Joy and wonder went out of my life to a large degree. But Jesus said, "Unless you become as little children." Does that mean He wants us to live each new day as if it were the only one I have--as indeed it is? Yesterday is simply that--yesterday. Tomorrow--that never comes, as the wise man truly said. Here I am with today, just today. It will unfold minute by minute and along with it so shall I. The strong bulwark of time is here to insure that it shall not move faster or slower than I am designed for. There may be grave problems to be met along this unreeling road but they shall not fill every second--unless I allow them. There shall be many tiny islands of pleasure, comfort, joy to be met with too. I can limit the black times to their respective moments by simply letting them go when their time is past. About Pain . I read an account of an incident at Lourdes which has ever since remained an inspiration to me. A pilgrim--a priest, I believe--saw a little boy in one of the invalid stretchers. The child was in such a pitiful condition that the pilgrim was deeply moved and inquired gently how he could stand so much pain. The boy looked up with a bright smile and answered serenely, "It is not hard for I can stand today's pain. I don't have yesterday's anymore and tomorrow's is not here." For all those who have to cope with pain (and who of us does not?) these are words of ageless wisdom. Many have written of the problem of pain or more accurately of the mystery of pain. These theological and psychological studies are very helpful insofar as they provide us with a partial insight into the why and wherefore of suffering in our lives. We all find things easier to bear when they have meaning. But when it comes down to the actual bearing of pain day after day, nothing is more practical than the simple rule of "one day at a time." This may not sound very profound but it is effective wisdom. No matter what kind of pain we have, mental, physical or moral, we can cope with it most effec- Space for a Rose tively when we accept and live with it only moment by moment. For those peo-ple whose pain offers no proximate solution, the temptation to be overwhelmed by it is very real. Especially if it is a combination of physical and mental torments, as it usually is. We can lighten the burden for ourselves and others if we keep our eyes fixed on the God who doles out our life and breath one second at a time. In the same measure He supplies us with His grace, not only to bear but to embrace the pain in our lives. Unpolluted Time We should not pollute the gift of time with a compulsive attitude of rush and of works which absolutely must be done now. Time is the atmosphere of our souls. We must strive to keep it pure. This depends much more on our in-ner attitudes than on the circumstances around us. We don't always have con-trol over outside events but we can exercise control over our attitudes towards them. If you find yourself, as I often discover myself, unconsciously pushing time in order to get to the next event; the next assignment; the next problem, then something needs a bit of adjustment. We are missing the present moment toward which we pressed so eagerly yesterday. And in missing this moment we are missing the God who is waiting for us right now. We think we will find Him next time we are in church, or we will find Him tomorrow, and so we press on, hurry past Him and then wonder why He seems so absent from our lives. He is not absent; we are! Our lives are only a shell of half-lived moments and we are poor; poor and empty. This is not, however, the poverty of spirit which Jesus praised. If we realized how needy we are, we would receive the gift of each moment with grateful wonder and would not dare to abuse it by seeking another time or place. The phrase "spiritual ecology" comes to mind. We can create a beautiful environment for our spirit if we settle down and listen to the message of our beating heart. One beat at a time--not all of them at once (hopefully) and we are living healthily. We breathe in our needed amount of air .this minute and continue to live. Should not this tranquil rhythm permeate our spiritual living also? We have a luxurious amount of time--enough to last our whole lives! But we need to deepen our appreciation of it. Instead of bemoaning the limits it necessarily sets to our activiti,es, even our most spiritual ones, we should joyfully accept the room it makes for all of them. One half-hour is not a very long time for prayer but it can be most rich if each of its thirty complete minutes is cherished in their presence. Our God comes to us only in time. He Loves Time In Jesus' life, we see Him functioning with beautiful tranquillity within the framework of time. He appreciates it; He respects it. He waits patiently for the "hour" which His Father has appointed for Him. Jesus does not try to an-ticipate the time the Father has decreed. He awaits it with composure and uses to their full all the intervening hours and moments in His life. There is an ira- 872 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 portant task to be accomplished but Jesus sees that it is meant to be fulfilled by living and loving fully each successive, day. He moves in wide spaces of freedom; so gracious and spacious we think Him touched by eternity. But He found, eternity in the present moment. So can we. God does not do all He wants to do in us as soon as we ask. He has a definite "hour" in mind for us. He comes to meet us at special times in our lives which we cannot anticipate. We may only humbly await them. Sometimes His hour is one of special revelation of HimSelf--or of ourselves. It may be the hour of crushing trial or of joyous unexpected fulfillment. One hour surely awaits all of us, the most decisive one of our lives--our last. We shall scarcely be alive to these extraordinary hours of grace unless we have heard and heeded His word, "My time is at hand," in each ordinary hour of our lives. To develop a healthy spiritual e~ology is not complicated but it requires self-discipline. Our wandering, rushing mind and body must be slowed down, We must deliberately cloister our spirits in the gentle haven of right now. Then we shall walk in wonder and awe before a world most rich and beautiful. Time to See. and B~ If I rush into our enclosed garden determined to get a brisk walk in before 1 do more important things, I shall never see the garden. It shall remain "enclosed" also to me. But if I step out into the sunshine, reveling in the full five minutes my Father has given me, I shall walk with gratitude and wide-open eyes. I shall see the white butterflies with one black spot on each wing dance over the pink zinnias. I shall be able to laugh at the bumblebee who gets snapped at by the snapdragon it was so cautiously opening for nectar. And when these precious five minutes have elapsed I shall be refreshed and alive both physically and spiritually. My Father knows that a rose needs space to unfold, even a wild rose. How good of Him to provide me this room in His mansion of many dimensions, As I write these lines, the cicadas have momentarily stopped singing in the heat. Only the white butterflies are ecstatically circling each other among the blue petunias. It is very quiet., and very good in this moment. The New Law Versus The Gospel Jerome Murphy-O'Connor, O.P. Father Murphy-O'Connor is Professor of'New Testament at the Ecole Biblique de J~rusalem, P.O.B. 178, Jerusalem, Israel. By bringing the prescriptions regarding religious in the New Code of Canon Law to the attention of those who will have to li~e under them Father Kevin O'Rourke has rendered an immensely valuable service.~ Without his ad-mirably objective translations and summaries, the dialogue which should be an integral characteristic of the Christian community would be difficult, if not - impossible. His own evaluation rightly gives credit to the new spirit which animates the revision of this part of the Code, and his censure of the revisors' refusal to accept input from religious is well merited. However, his observation that "A new law can be well designed and constructed, but unless the people think it is 'their' law, it will not be observed as well as if they had some hand in its formulation''2 needs to be taken further. Dissatisfaction can be generated by failure to observe democratic procedures, but a more profound and lasting resentment is awakened when laws do not correspond to the self-understanding of the people they govern. Hence, the need to penetrate behind the statements of the New Code to the theology .of religious life that they embody, It is imperative that the revisors' assumptions regarding the nature of religious life be brought out into the open and subjected to searching debate, because once the New Code is promulgated it will inevitably tend to impose its vision of religious life. Despite the principle of subsidiarity which gives great latitude to particular institutes, it would be ~"The New Law for Religious: Principles, Content, Evaluation," Review for Religious 34 (1975) 23-49. =Art. cit., p. 49. 873 874 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 dangerously naive.to assume that the~e will not be pressures to make the con-stitutions of individual congregations conform to the "spirit" of the New Code. Should the revisors' vision of religious life be defective it will frustrate the work of renewal that has begun with so much pain and heart-searching. The advances that have been made will be gradually nullified, and the ground-work will have been laid for a repetition of the crisis that rocked religious con-gregations in the recent years. This danger, in my opinion, is not theoretical but very real. Despite their evident good intentions, the revisors assume an inadequate concept of religious life which has done untold damage in the past. In making this criticism I base myself on the truth that the religious life is but a particular manifestation of the Christian life. In consequence, it must faithfully reflect the pattern of Christian life laid down in the New Testament, and no theology of religious life can be considered adequate unless it successfully integrates 'all the insights of the New Testament. This point has been made explicitly by Vatican II: "Since the fundamental norm of the religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the gospel, such is to be regarded by all communities as their supreme law" (Perfectae Caritatis, n. 2). When judged against this standard the revisors' understanding of religious life not only fails to reach the ideal proposed by the gospel but on occasion contradicts it. The Definition of Consecrated Life As given by Father O'Rourke, the first canon reads as follows: Life consecrated through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a stable form of life, by which the faithful, following Christ more closely, are dedicated totally to God loved above all, so that by a new and special title they are ordered to the honor of God, to the salvation of the world, and to the building up of the (~hurch, seek the perfection of charity in the service of the kingdom of God, and become clear signs in the Church foretelling heavenly glory. Which form of living in institutes of perfection, constituted under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and canonically erected by the competent authority of the Church the faithful freely accept, who through vows or other sacred bonds, profess to observe according to the particular law of these institutes the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and ~ obedience, and who are united to the mystery of the Church in a special way by charity, to which the counsels lead. The elements I have italicized in this definition call for comment. (a) "Following Christ more closely (they) are dedicated totally to God." Since this canon has the form of a definition, these phrases can only mean that by definition religious follow Christ more closely and are, by definition, totally dedicated. They cannot be interpreted as meaning that religious should follow Christ more closely and should be completely dedicated to God. The canon, therefore, states that religious are better Christians than other believers. A view that makes sense only in virtue of the assumption that the form of life chosen by religious is of itself superior to that of other Christians. The revisors, therefore, revert to the concept of religious life as a state of perfec-tion, a concept that was deliberately abandoned by Vatican II. Dedication to The New Law Versus the Gospel / 875 God manifested in the following of Christ is exclusively a question of charity, and has no intrinsic relationship to any particular pattern of life. To imitate Christ means to love as He did, and the degree of perfection reached in such imitation is conditioned only by the quality of love that is actually displayed. (b) "United to the mystery of the Church in a special manner by charity. '° Charity is specifically mentioned here, but the meaning of the phrase is anything but clear, because charity has a unifying effect only between persons. In the strict sense one cannot be united through love to an institution. If the revisors intended to speak of the bond of charity which should obtain between the members of the Church they could have expressed themselves much less ambiguously. It may well be, however, that the vagueness was deliberate, and that the phrase was intended to be suggestive rather than meaningful. In the light of the previous paragraph the purpose can only be to insinuate that religious occupy a special place in the Church. Yet the second canon insists that religious do not pertain to the hierarchical structure of the Church. Hence, while affirming that religious belong to the laity, the revisors make a distinction between two groups of laity and, incredibly, the basis of the distinc-tion is claimed to be charity. By definition, therefore, religious are more perfect in charity than other members of the Church. Since this is manifestly untrue in terms of actual loving, one can only conclude that the revisors operated on the assumption that religious are more perfect in virtue of their state. This, the most natural interpretation, ~is confirmed by the fact that the charity in question is that "to which the counsels lead." (c) "The evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience." Because all the other meaningful elements in the definition apply equally to all Christians, it is clear that the revisors' understanding of religious life is based on the concept of the "evangelical counsels" which, according to the third canon, "are founded in the teaching and example of Christ." They suppose that some Christians are called to a higher level of practice than others, and that the acceptance of this option is a matter of free choice. Were this assump-tion correct it would certainly constitute a secure basis for the distinction that the revisors make between two groups of laity, but the fact is that it is in flat contradiction with the teaching of the New Testament. There is a formal consensus among scholars of all confessions that the New Testament does not discriminate between different types of Christians. It makes no provision for an "elite" because the divine demand is addressed equally to all, and the fundamental condition for the reception of baptism is the acceptance of this demand in its totality: All are imperatively summoned to the perfection of charity, and all are guilty to the extent that they fail to manifest the love which animated Christ. The so-called "counsels" are not offered to some. They are binding upon all. More specifically, there is nothing in the teaching of Jesus that can be con-strued as an exhortation to renounce material good or marriage.The poor are blessed, not because they are poor, but because the messianic era has arrived in 876 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/6 which their poverty will be relieved. The central thrust of the incident involving the Rich Young Man concerns faith, and the exhortation to sell all that he possessed pertains to his specific psychological state. The same condition for following Jesus is not imposed on the fishermen disciples. The statement con-cerning those who make themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven is' directed towards married persons, and deals with celibacy only to the extent that it concerns the celibacy forced on a sincere married Christian by the obligation to remain open in love to a spouse that has abandoned the marriage? All this is but the current coin of serious exegesis, and it is incredi-ble( given the emphasis on Scripture in Vatican II).that the revisors did not de-mand competent advice before declaring that "the profession of the evangelical, counsels" entailed "the renunciation of certain values which are to be undoubtedly esteemed" .(canon 4), I intend to return to the revisors' understanding of the vows, but enough has been said at this point to show that the revisors are completely mistaken in their comprehehsion of the so-called "evangelical counsels." Since this is the key~element in the definition and the basis of their assumptions concerning the state of perfection, it is evident that the whole definition is erroneous. In itself this is sufficient to compromise all that is said subsequently. Community It will be noted that community plays virtually no role in the above defini-tion. The function of the institute of perfection to which a religious belongs is to specify the precise conditions of the vows of lboverty~ chastity, and obedience. It has nothing to do with growth in love, with the salvation of the world, or with the building up of the Church. These duties all belong to the members taken as individuals, as the plural verbs indicate. The justification for this limitation appearsin Part II of the New Code where it becomes evi-dent that the above definition is intended to apply not only to religioUs com-munities but also to hermits and to secular institutes which are not bound to the common life. There is no doubt that both hermits and members of secular institutes lead consecrated lives, but there is no justification for the watering down of religious life that the revisors' quest for a common denominator necessarily involves. The community dimension of religious life' is pushed into the background with the result that the theology of religious life is completely distorted. By deciding to make the status of the individual the basis of the New Code the revisors have consecrated an individualism which is in radical con-tradiction with the teaching and example of Christ. If the fundamental status of believers is that of members of the Body of Christ how can they be treated as if they were autonomous entities? The revisors, of course, will reply that they consider individuals not in themselves but as belonging to various institutes of perfection. This is simply untrue in the case of the hermit whose only relationship is with a superior. 3For detailed justificfition of these statements, cf. my study What is Religious Life?, Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1973. The New Law Versus the Gospel / 877 Much could be said about this point. The assumption of the revisors is that the hermit can cut him or herself off entirely from the world. It would be ex-tremely difficult, if not impossible, to find any justification for this mod+ of life in the New Testament, and historically no hermit who achieved sanctity was ever totally separated from the world. People came to them with their problems and to learn the secrets of prayer with the result that they were in fact involved with a community. The member of a secular institute belongs officially to an institute of perfection, but the New Code glosses over the ambiguity of the ,word '.'belonging." The members "belong" to the institute in the sense of a legal relationship, but such a relationship can be real or ptlrely formal. A real relationship necessarily involves presence, because it is constituted by the reciprocity in need and response. For sincere Christians the most imperative needs are those about them, because they recognize that the situation in which they find themselves is God-given. Providence, therefore, imposes limits on the universality of charity. Both St. Augustine (De Doct: Christ., I, ch. 28) and St. Thomas Aquinas (II-II, q. 26, a. 6) were conscious of the need to prevent charity evaporating. The precept of charity towards all men"could be taken so literally that no one would be lo~;ed properly. Hence, with the immense com-monsense that is the characteristic of saints, Augustine said, "All men are to be loved equally, but since you cannot be useful to all, it is strongly advised that you concentrate on those who fortuitously are closest to you by reason of time, place, or any other circumstance." It is impossible to love all men, unless charity is understood as a vague theoretical attitude of openness, i.e., when be-ing prepared to love is equated with actual loving. The reality of charity is ac-curately defined by Augustine in terms of utility which implies service. Those to whom service is to be rendered are those whom God has placed in .our path through the providential circumstances of time and place. Jesus commanded "Love your neighbor as yourselt" (Mt 22, 39 and parallels), and all the texts which imply the universality of love are to be interpreted as prohibitions of dis-crimination. Hence, the community to which a Christian really belongs is con-stituted by those who are the actual fabric of his or her daily existence. No legal affiliation can break this fundamental evangelical bond, or be substituted for it. The members of secular institutes working alone belong less to the institute khan to their apostolic environment. Their commitment to intensifying the Christianity of that environment may differ in degree from that of the average layperson, but it is essentially the same. One has only to read the Sermon on the Mount to realize the extent to which every believer is obligated to be the ferment of love, And that love in. order to be real demands the reciprocity of sharing. To the extent that the members of secular institutes depend on their apostolic environment for physical and affective sustenance, and in turn con-tribute on both these levels, the vows of poverty and chastity become real. But this ~haring is only an intensification of the spiritual and corporal works of mercy to which all Christifins are obliged. Therefore, the community to which ~178 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/6 the isolated member of a secular institute really belongs is the local parish or subdivision thereof. In the light of the gospel his or her relationshp to the in-stitute is no different than his or her relationship to the family. Both exercise a formative.influence which served as the foundation for lasting affective bonds, but the reality which manifests the call of God in the present moment is the apostolic environment. To give priority to the institute is to fall back into a merely formal relationship which is equivalent to the sterile legalism that Jesus and Paul condemned so severely. The situation is very different in the case of institutes of common life, because the community in which the members live is distinct from the apostolic environment in which they work. In other words, the community to which they are legally affiliated is the community to which they really belong. That community is the primary context in which the call of God is heard, because according to the order of charity, on which Augustine and Thomas in-sist, those with whom one lives have the first claim on one's love. The needs of those outside the community (i.e, the local community which is the only place that the institute becomes real) must take second place to the needs of the members. The situation is reversed in the case of a member of a secular in-stitute, because those who are legally affiliated to the institute are remote whereas those who constitute the apostolic environment are immediately pres-ent. ~. Legalism can obfuscate this difference, and lawyers may believe that it is not important, but for those who take the gospel seriously it is crucial, because the seed of the Word can take root only in the soil of reality. There is a real distinction between those who consecrate themselves to the service of God as members of a community and those who as individuals consecrate themselves to that same service within the potential community constituted by an apostolic environment. A common denominator can be sought in the idea of "consecration," as the revisors have in fact done, but the value of such a com-mon denominator is precisely what needs to be questioned. There are criteria more important than sterile intellectual neatness or the convenience of lawyers. To ignore reality for the sake of superficial classification is to in-troduce, ambiguities which can have disastrous consequences for the self-understanding of those who have to live under the New Code. This is manifest in the definition of consecrated life adopted by the revisors. It applies much more accurately to hermits and the members of secular institutes than it does to those who belong to institutes of common life. The inevitable consequence is to make community appear as something secondary. It functions as a legal point.,of reference rather than as the basic Christian reality designed to render a unique service both to the Church and to the world.4 4It should also be pointed out that the revisors' understanding of secular institutes depends entirely on the above-criticized concept of "a state of perfection." l f, according to Title I11 of Part il, the members of such institutes "lead their temporal life as the rest of the faithful" all that dis-tinguishes them from the rest of the laity is "the practice of the evangelical counsels." This conclu- The New Law Versus the Gospel / 879 The Difference between Institutes of Perfection The diminution of the importance of community appears even more clearly in Part II of the New Code. The first preliminary canon (n. 91) states, "These institutes follow Christ more closely either~"by prayer, by active works which benefit mankind, or by communicating with people in the world," and Father O'Rourke has correctly observed that the purpose of this canon is to found the distinction between various types of institutes on the type of apostolate carried on by each one? It is perfectly obvious that different institutes in fact do different things, but the way in i,which the revisors deal with this aspect leads to the conclusion that they considered such activities the raison d'~,tre of these institutes. Not only is this assumption in tension with the concept of a state of perfection adopted elsewhere, but it represents a complete misunderstanding of the nature of any Christian community. The revisors neglect the fact that there are two specifically different types of community. For convenience they can be termed the action-community and the being-cornmunity.6 An action-community is one whose raison d'etre is the performance of a series of related actions. It is brought into existence for that purpose. Thus, an army exists in order to execute a plan of defense or attack; a business company exists in order to produce and sell a product. The goal desired in each case is beyond the capacity of an individual, so a number band together to extend the power and scope of their activity. A being-community, on the other hand, is composed of those who come together in order to be or become something as individuals. The purpose of a fitness-club is that the members be fit and healthy. The importance of this distinction is that it permits us to see that the posi-tion of the individual varies considerably according to the type of community to which he. belongs. In the action-community'the individual is for the com-munity, and takes second place to the action which represents the common good of that community. In a business company the individual executive or worker is much less important than the product, and his or her value is judged exclusively in terms of the product. Any sort of damage to the product will result in dismissal. Built into the structure of an action-c6mmunity is the sion is confirmed by the history of the secular institute movement. Th~eir struggle to gain recogni-tion within the Church was based on the assumed relation between the vows and a state of perfec-tion. It was felt that a special value was attached to a lift th(ough profession of the vows, and that the acquisition Of this value conferred a staths that the rest of the laity did not possess. Social recognition of this status was desired as a reinforcement of the members' conviction that what they were doing was worthwhile, in the light ofthe gospel there can be no dispute as~to how this quest for status and recognition should be judged. Love is the only authentically Christian title to status. ~Art. cir., p. 42. ~For a more developed exposition of this distinction, see ch. 2 of the study mentioned in note 3 above. ~180 / Review for Religious, IZolume 34, 1975/6 assumption that a number of ihdividuals will be losers. They can forfeit their lives in an army or be wiped out economically by taxes--and this is rightly taken for granted. In a being-community, however, the community is for the individual, because the raison d'etre of such a community is to provide the individual with stimulus and opportunity. This is perfectly evident in the example of a fitness club. Since its goal is that all the members interiorize the ideal of optimum fitness, it follows that such a club has no common-good distinct from the achievement of the individual. The success or failure of the club. is judged in function of the success or failure of the individual. To which category of community does the Christian community belong? In the light of the New Testament there can be no hesitation. It is a being-community, for its raison d'etre is to make it possible for its members to follow Christ, and thereby to prolong His mission incarnationally by demo.nstrating the double reconciliation (with God and.other human beings, cf. Eph 2, 14-16) that He came to accomplish. In order to be truly Christian, therefore, each community of believers must reflect this basic characteristic. Of its very nature it exists to provide the opportunity of authentic Christian ex-istence for all its members. But such existence is fundamentally a sharing; itis not something that each individual possesses absolutely. This is evident in the Johannine allegory of the vine and the branches (Jn 15, 1-11), but the most,for-mal affirmation comes from St. Paul, "As many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. for you are all one person in Christ Jesus" (Gal 3, 27-28; cf. Col 3, 10-11). Believers are different from non-Christians because they exist in union, whereas the existence of the latter is characterized by divisions. The mission of the Church to transform the world involves breaking down the barriers of hostility and suspicion that divide humanity. In order to ach!eve this it must first show that such divisive tendencies no longer exist within itself. It must show itself to the world as a profoundly reconciled com-munity. Only within the context of such reconciliation are 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 29.1 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDI.TORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Eilard. S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~wEw vog l~uG~ous; Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9xo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Provirice Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright (~) 1970 by RZVzEw' FOR RELIOIOUS at 428 East Preston Str~:t; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class posta[~e paid at Baltimore, Maryland and ai addiuonal mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Suhscsiption U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, "$9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two yean. Orders should indicate whether they ah: for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to RFvu~w FOR RI~LIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions; wl~re ~ccom-padded by a remittance, should be sent to Rgv~zw ~OR RELIGIOUS; P. O. ~X 671; Baltimo~, Ma~land 21203. Chang~ of addr~, bu~ co~es~nd~ce, and ord~s not a~ ompa~ed a remittance should be g~Ltotous ; 428 East ~eston Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts, ~itofial cor- ~s~ndence, and ~oks for r~iew should sent to REVIEW FOR gELIOIOUS; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~uri 63103. Qu~fions for answering should ~ the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JANUARY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 1 REVIEW FOR Volume 29 1970 EDITORIAL OFFIG'E 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is indexed in the Catholic Peri-odical Index land in Book Re-view Index. Microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS i8 available from University Mi-crofilms; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. GEORGE WILSON, S.J. Community. and Loneliness Not another article on communityl Haven't we all heard enough on that subject to last us through our next ten general chapters? Perhaps. But I hope the reader will excuse me if I muse a bit out loud on some questions in this area which I feel we have neglected in spite of the deluge of analyses, anathemas, and recipes to which we have been treated in recent years. The reflections which follow will have only the merest semblance of any order. I make no apology for this. It happens to represent for me the state of the issues, which recurrently bob to the surface of my consciousness like the flotsam from a variety of experiences with religious men and women over the past six years. It strikes me, incidentally, that flotsam may be a particularly apt word inasmuch as some of these experiences involved rather disastrous shipwrecks. We might make a good beginning by taking eight giant steps backwards to a typical religious community in the year 1962. (We now know that such a thing never existed, of course; beneath the surface each com-munity was really very different. In those idyllic days, however, we might very well have lived under such an illusion.) We heard about the Council---the typical first reaction was "I wonder why?"--so we prayed for the gentle rain of the Spirit. We prayed for the success of the Council more or less as we would have prayed for a Eucharistic congress. We prayed for rain and we were treated to a ty-phoon. And not least in the area of what we came to call "community." We might even have to remind our-selves now that the word "community" was hardly ever heard before the Council. And certainly if we used it at all, it was not with all the psychological baggage with which it is currently burdened. In those ÷ + George Wilson, $.J., teaches theol-ogy at Woodstock College in Wood-stock, Md. 21163. VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. George Wilson, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS days we might have spoken of "common life"--but that was such a different thing. I hope I will be for-given the whimsical reflection that in those days "com-mon life" was frequently used to engineer the rigidity which precisely destroys all life, whereas today our more likely mistake is to invoke "community" in order to perpetrate all the most bizarre diversities which haven't the foggiest connection with the people with ¯ whom we live. Lest this latter remark be misconstrued, let me .hasten to add that it is not in any way a plea for more togetherness. I suppose at this point I am just suggesting that we abandon the futile gesture of trying to baptize the many sensible, good, and apostolic things done by religious with the tag "community." If indeed they are sensible, good, and apostolically profitable, they will remain so even without the tag, as long as the religious lives up to his or her basic commitment to the group. At any rate, I think we would all admit that "com-munity" has taken on new burdens in the renewal years. The new factor consists in the conscious emphasis on personal enrichment of the life of the individual through the intimate sharing of life with similarly dedi-cated persons. This is not to suggest that religious life in previous decades did not bring rich personal satis-faction to the lives of many wonderful and wonder-fully human beings. It is one of the cruel illusions of some of our fiery reformers to think that they dis-covered the category of the personal--cruel to others because it seems to cast a shadow over the accomplish-ment of their great lives of service, but even more cruel to the reformers themselves because, being, an illusion, it prevents them from seeing precisely the beauty of lives lived for years at a steady, if less ro-matically intense, warmth. One is tempted to think of beams and motes and so forth. Be that as it may, the difference between then and today is not, I would submit, that between coldness and warmth, but rather between a then in which the warm personal successes and the cold impersonal failures were just lived, and a today, in; which they are consciously sought after (warm personal relationships) or consciously and ruthlessly knocked down (the merely functional, computerized, impersonal civilities). People were always warm (some) and cold (some) and they still are today (some of e~ch). Wheat and cockle and all that. It is just that we religious have as a group grown more reflective about how it happens; we have evolved a new set of forms which define and give contemporary expression to warmth and coldness (and we .are evolving even newer forms at a dizzy pace); and we are more consciously searching out the ways to increase the successes and minimize the failures in the process. All of which is good. Religious communities not only should be places in which the full development of human personal potential for life and love and happiness takes place, they should also be evidently such. Signs which don't communicate are worse than anomalies: they have the fateful chameleon capacity to become counter-signs. Let it be proclaimed once and for all: a man or woman giving his or her life to Christ in a religious society should find there the ac-ceptance and warmth and affection which any hu-man being has a right to look for in his commitment to any other person or group of persons. Unfortunately this still does not get us out of the woods. I say unfortunately, because I am afraid that many religious feel that the mere affirmation is enough by itself to answer all difficulties. To draw a bold caricature which probably never happened, I ~aave the recurring fantasy of a contemporary religious say-ing: "A religious community should be an intimate group of people who are in love with one another. I don't feel that way about any of the eight people I live with and I certainly know non~ of them feels that way about me. So this isn't a community, and I'm get-ting out of this farce." Put in such a starkly simplistic form, some of the ambiguities which lurk within our thinking about community are thrown into a new light and some finer honing of our questions is called for. What degree of intimacy can a person realistically hope for with eight people selected more or less at random by somebody who won't be living with them? Yes, the community should supply warmth and personal sup-pol: t--but just who is the community when I say that? Does the community commit itself to being my only source of deep personal relationships and human ful-fillment? Need it always and in every instance even be the primary source? Is it possible that by failing to face these questions we have created a thought pattern in which the individual religious is unwittingly taught to have entirely unrealistic expectations and then when these cannot be met he or she is compelled to seek their fulfillment elsewhere? It has been observed in the case of marriage that our current high divorce rate can be directly attributed to the fact that modern man's ex-pectations from marriage are, contrary to a superficial view, actually much higher than in the past; would the increasing rate of departures from religious life be say-ing the same thing about our expectations concerning it? I would not pretend to answer all of these difficult questions in the space of a brief article. But perhaps we + 4. + Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 5 + ÷ ÷ George Wilson, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 may move the dialogue along a bit by examining a couple of areas: (l) the people with whom I should expect to find "community" when I commit myself to Christ in a religious group, and (2) one of the false understandings of community under which we may have been unwittingly operating. First, to the people. The operating principle of many religious today would seem to be that I should be able to attain to deep intimacy with all the members of my local community or else it is all a sham. I will leave aside the question which the older religious, often quite legitimately, is frequently heard to ask, namely, what in the name of all that's holy do they mean by "deep intimacy"? My presumption for the moment is that the people in question are attempting to point to something real of which they have already had some experiential taste and which they do expect to find in religious life, however halting they may be in articulat-ing what they mean by it. In other words, I can also sympathize with their common response of "if you don't even sense what I'm talking about, that's even sadder than the fact that we don't have it here." At this point the meaning of "deep intimacy" is not my con-cern. But leaving it descriptively for the moment at the level of a vague but real experience whose presence or lack can be grasped by any sensitive human being, my question is rather: With whom should I reasonably expect to achieve it? There is a "tradition" (of very recent vintage, I sus-pect) which would be shocked that the question is even raised, since sell-evidently this kind of relationship has to be achieved with one's local community. To which my question in return would be: is it all that self-evident? I ought to find a~ceptance and warmth and affection in the community of people to whom I have committed myself, but does this lead me realistically to expect a relationship of deep intimacy with the eight members of my local community? At about this point in the dialogue it is not unlikely that someone will be thinking: "But just look at the community of our first foundersl They had this kind of deep relationship, but we've lost it." The comparison is frequently made and I would like to suggest that it masks a fateful equivocation. To use the word "com-munity" to describe a handful of people who freely and individually sought each other out through a proc-ess of long personal contact and testing, and then to make this a model for one's expectations when one is assigned to a random collection of eight individuals out of a 500-man (or 35,000-man) congregation to which I commit mysel/-~this is surely courting intellectual con- fusion and psychological disaster. The founding group had a sense of community and generally very intimate relationships. (Would one seem too cynical if one were to suggest that we have probably romanticized even the latter element? A sober reading of our early histories would suggest that for all their vision and charisma our founders generally had to be very hard-headed, down-to-earth wrestlers in order to. survive the fierce opposition which their vision generated.) The fact that they had both these elements in one integrated, lived way should not make us forget that they are two different things. Perhaps a parallel drawn from a related area may be of some assistance here. The movement known as the Teams of Our Lady (or by its original French title, Equipes-Notre Dame) consists of married couples who are established into communities of six couples each. It is important to note that the couples do not as a rule choose the other couples with whom they will de-velop as a team; the leadership of the movement usually gathers them on the basis of factors such as geographical proximity and so forth. The goal of the team is to help one another grow in holiness, which involves assisting each couple to find the ways to express love in the various situations into which their marriage and family life call them. The forms and practices of the spiritual life vary from couple to couple. The role of the other couples in the team is to foster the individual couple's unique growth, not to dictate a particular recipe for conjugal sanctity. The point of the parallel is that the testimony of the couples in the movement reveals that they have discovered experientially the distinction be-tween a successful team and what they call a "cozy team." A given team which is functioning well may gradually develop also into a cozy group; the couples and their children may begin to socialize apart from the explicit team structure, they may begin to gravitate to-ward other team couples in deep friendship. Or they may not. The point is that couples find that this factor is not essential to the success of a team. Teams can reach great depths of spiritual sharing and mutual assistance and growth without a great deal of socializ-ing or what one might call camaraderie. Indeed there are teams whose rating on the latter scale is very high but in which nothing of significance with regard to the goal of the movement is happening. It will be instantly objected that the supposed paral-lel is fallacious because of course these couples already have their primary needs for intimacy satisfied else-where, prior to entry into a team. The objection has some merit; certainly the parallel limps. On the other hand, it would be a bit cavalier to dismiss it out of + 4, VOLUME 29, 1970 4. 4. 4. George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 hand simply on those grounds. We must face the fact that when we admit the inadequacies of the parallel we are not thereby justified in ignoring the facets in which it does touch home in spite of its hobbling gait. Nor--more importantly--may we thereby surrepti-. tiously insert the assumption that the religious must of course find his or her admitted needs for intimacy satis-fied within the local cgmmunity. Despite the weak-nesses of the parallel I submit that this notion remains at this point in the case exactly that, just an assump-tion. What are we to say of its value? It occurs to me that we might make a better assessment of it if we pose some specific situations for ourselves. Suppose that a given sister or brother or priest, were to discover that he or she finds it much more pleasant to be with, say, a member of the lay faculty or some parishioner or fellow nurse than with members of the local community. A deep and rich friendship has evolved through sharing important experiences together. There may be several such relationships. The religious may honestly face the fact that he shares a deeper level of friendship with people beyond the community than with those inside ~t. Should this be a disturbing discovery? Should it lead to the conclusion that this religious group ~is only a hollow facade and that honesty dictates a resignation from the group? My own personal answer would have to be negative. If I might take a stab at describing the stages of the re-cent development of community life styles, I would suggest that it has proceeded along the following lines: (1) the "lived" stage mentioned above. There were de facto some rich friendships in religious communities. There was also an explicit doctrine which inculcated fear of any human warmth. The healthy were always able to put this doctrine in psychological brackets and go on about the business of living, which is to say, trying to be human. The less healthy were more crippled by the tradition or, as a perhaps harsher judgment would have it, allowed themselves to be crippled by it. At this stage relationships outside the community were the ultimate no-no. (2) The explicit doctrine was gradually battered down by the new openness to in-sights from the human sciences, if it did not simply crumble from the weight of its own unreality. Friend-ship, warmth, openness became values to be consciously striven after. Rather ironically we rediscovered that fusty old English word "Thou~' (as .in "I-hyphen- Thou"; but never in hymns, pleasel) and eyeball-to-eyeball became the image of the day. But this was all to be within the community--it is no accident that our word "pagan" has as one of its earliest meanings simply "an outsider." And although the explicit doctrine of suspicion of friendship was finished, an unwritten tradition had evolved very quickly, according to which the community where friendship had to be discovered was the local community. In the meantime a third step was taking place, one which deserves a separate paragraph because it repre-sents the present for many religious. Having been con-sciously opened to the value of the human, they discovered that it existed outside the religious group as well. They inevitably began to experience the rise of friendships with persons outside the group. In some communities the explicit tradition quickly adjusted to this new fact by seeing it as a natural consequence of openness to personal relationship and accepted it as a good thing; in others the notion has had a more bumpy ride. For all, the -~ituation became more tense when father or brother or sister found that there were many more inviting people outside than in. The new tradition has created an intolerable bind for many. They are being told in effect (1) that every human being needs some deeply fulfilling human re-lationships, (2) that these should not be fostered out-side the community, or at least (3) that even if outside relationships are acceptable one should be able to reach that same level of intimacy with those religious with whom one happens to live as a result of the need for a teacher of remedial reading---a placement deter-mined by someone who in all probability will not be sharing the local community situation. At this juncture I am not. sure whether I have more .to fear from my. friends than my attackers. I can imagine one group hailing me because I have shown that they were right all along, that all this deep relationship business was exaggerated and all we really have to do to have .community is to be civil. (Sometimes things get so bad in dealing with this mentality that one is almost tempted to agree and settle for that, but civility seems to be one of those things you cannot have all by itself; either we aie going forward to love and warmth or else we are soon back in the cold jungle.) A group .on the opposite side is saying: "Of course that's not what he means. What he's clearly shown is that the only solution is to let everyone choose his or her own local group. Then we' can reduplicate the intimacy of our founding fathers." A third group is made up of the poor harried school,supervisors and provincials, and they are probably muttering in the corner that I have leveled another juvenile a.ttack against that old straw man, the im-personal bureaucratic sturcture, when they have had ÷ 4. ÷ ÷ ÷ 4. George Wilson, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]0 their insides torn out trying to respect the personal needs of individuals in the face of important com-munity commitments. Which means it is time for fixing our position. I am not going back on my stand affirming the importance of warm and deep human relationships for all human beings and therefore for all religious. Nor on the other hand am I convinced that a group of people which has a job to do can simply let its members form all its subgroups on the basis of free association untram-meled by the facts of broader common commitments. And I have the greatest sympathy for those in the com-munity who have the difficult task of reconciling per-sons, pegs, and holes; their service, far from being mere bureaucracy, is generally one of the most excruciatingly personal ones in the whole community. No, our solution lies neither in shrinking back from personal relationships nor in totally free association. I would suggest that the sources for an answer are in two places: in the broader pool of the larger religious community and in the open personal concourse of religious with the outside world they serve. A religious need not feel especially troubled on discovering that there are no close personal friends among those with whom he or she happens to live, provided that some-where in the larger religious group there are those with whom such a relationship exists. And the com-munity should foster the normal means by which such relationships can flourish and grow: the chance to choose vacation partners, freedom to visit and recreate to-gether without the other members of each one's local community feeling slighted, trips within reason (proportioned by the same responsible norms which two lay friends might have to use in making such a decision, such as available funds, other commitments, and so forth). Beyond the incarnated friendships of those in different local communities warm relationships with other men and women outside the community should be expected to arise, be fostered when they do, and be given the normal modes of expression which suit such relationships (if sister has to be home by midnight on a particular occasion, it is not because she is sister but because she is an adult human being with a responsibil-ity to perform as an adult the next morning--and that is something she should be free to discover for her-self by trial and, alas, error). In this way we can ease the impossible demand which has been placed on the local community by the tradition of unreasonable ex-pectations. We will of course still have to be open to growth in the depth of our relationships in the local community. We will have to be on our guard lest the needs of more withdrawn members of the local group go unattended. But paradoxically, it is just possible that we may be better able to meet these basic demands of love on the local scene if we do not expect that scene to fulfill all our human personality needs. All of this might become more acceptable doctrine if we were to examine the normal patterns of mature and healthy individuals-in-community. It is quite natural for the mature adult in our society to func-tion within a wide diversity of social circles simul-taneously, to have his own needs met and to meet the needs of others in a variety of ways and on different levels. This is true even of that most intimate of com-munities constituted by the one-to-one relationship of marriage. The husband lives on one level with his wife, on another in his field of occupation, on still another with a few very close male friends (with whom his wife may or may not be on such close terms), on another with more casual social acquaintances; he may even have a select group with whom his only contact may be a weekly game of handball. The wife's circles will be analogous; in some instances they may range more broadly than his, as for example in the parish or neighborhood. At times their circles will coincide, at times not. They will strive to enlarge the areas they share (which may not necessarily mean that they do the things together; they learn to enrich each other by sharing what they have done separately). But one thing is sure: they know that if they demand even of this re-lationship that it satisfy all their personal needs for intimacy, it will become involuted and shrivel up and die. It is true of the couple; it is true of the family on a different level; and it is true of the individuals in a given local religious community. If we are supposing, then, that a particular religious will not have any really close friend within the group with whom he or she must share years of human life and work, are we not exposing the religious to a frightening risk of loneliness? This very real question brings us to the second area in which it was suggested that we might clarify our thinking, namely, a false understanding of community which may unwittingly be causing a lot of unhealthy departures from religious life. Actually it is really a false understanding of loneli-ness rather than immediately one of community which is at issue; but on a given level these are really correla-tive notions, and our understanding of the meaning of loneliness has its impact on our expectations from com-munity life. The issue was brought home most force-fully to me in a response by Thomas Merton to an ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 ]! George Wilson, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ']2 interviewer's question, as reported in Motive for Octo-ber,. 1967. The interviewer touched on the issue of celibacy and solitude; and Merton's answer read in part: I think I can say I have experienced levels of loneliness that most people do not allow themselves consciously to admit. From a certain point of view I can say bluntly that to exist as a man without relating to one particular woman-and-person who is "my love," is quite simply a kind of death. But I have enough experience of human love to realize, too, that even within the best of relationships between man and woman this loneliness and death are also terribly present. There are mo-ments in human love in which loneliness is completely tran-scended, but these are brief and deceptive, and they can point 9nly to the further and more difficult place where, ultimately, two lonely and helpless persons elect to save one another from absurdity by being absurd together--and for life (pp. 36-7). This explicitation of the fact that there is a certain kind of loneliness experienced within the most intimate of unions and even in its peak moments can be of in-valuable assistance in clarifying our expectations from religious life in community. Whether we consciously admit it to ourselves or not, we.do tend to interpret the meaning and value of various human experiences by comparing them with expectations from other ways of life. This is a perfectly human process, for man is, after all, a prudential being. But the worth of the process depends on the realism with which we view the two situations. It is my convic-tion that a number of religious have made the decision to leave, religious life on the unhealthy basis of a judgment that the loneliness of religious life would be assuaged by the relationships available in lay, and particularly married, life. It is important to be dear 0n what is being asserted here. It should be evident that there is no criticism of these people intended, and certainly not a condemnation. Nor is there any at-tempt to dispute their assessment that indeed for them life with this particular religious group had become intolerable due to the type of loneliness they actually experienced. What is at issue is the use of a principle according to which religious life itself would involve a loneliness that is unique to it and would therefore be ".solved" by departure from it. This is, I believe, an unreal assumption and any decision based on it is un-healthy because unreal. Clark,Moustakas has written a precious gem of a book .which .should be required reading for all religious in formation. Entitled simply Loneliness (Prentice-Hall ';Spectrum". :paperback), the brief work makes a valuable contribution to our discussion from two points of view. Moustakas first alerts us to the fact that the one word "loneliness" can actually cover two distinct reali-ties. One consists in the experiencing of my fundamental human uniqueness, separateness, and inalienable re-sponsibility for myself and my decisions, and actions. No one can stand in my shoes, no one can do "my thing." This quality of genuinely human experience, which Moustakas .calls existential loneliness, is quite simply a part of being human: Loneliness is as much organic to human existence as the blood is to the heart.~ It is a dimension of human life whether existential, sociologidal, or psychological; whatever its deriva-tives or forms, whatever its history, it is a reality of life. Its fear, evasion, denial, !and the accompanying attempts to escape 'the experience of being lonely will forever isolate the person from his own existerlce, will' afflict and separate him from his own resources so thht there is no development, no creative emergence, no growth in awareness, perceptiveness, sensitivity. If the individual does not exercise his loneliness, one signifi-cant capacity and dimension of being hum~in remains unde-veloped, denied (pp2 When we allow ,ourselves to experience this reality in all its dimensions; we discover that is, is a gomplex phenomenon which includes both the painful acknowl-edgment of our igclination to evade responsibili.ty by leaning on someone else as well as the exhilarating discovery of the Ipower of our deepest self and its capacify for respo.hsible accomplishment.-This kind of loneliness, which belongs to every adult's life, has to be distinguished from ~inottier reality which is call'dd by the same name but is really the anxious fear. of being left alone. Moustakas calls this latter loneliness anxiety: Loneliness anxiety results from a fundamental breach be-tween what one island what one pretends to be, a basic alienation between man and man and between man and his nature (p. 24). Modern man is ;plagued with the vague, diffuse fear of loneliness. He goesI to endless measures, takes devious and circuitous pathways] to avoid facing the experience of being lonely. Perhaps the !loneliness of a" meaningless existence, the absence of values, convictions, beliefs, and fear of isolation are the most terribl~ kind of loneliness anxiety (pp. 26-7). The fact that. twqt.very different realities can go by the same name g~ves r, lse to the question: When a religious laments the loneliness of the religious group and de-cides to resolve ~he tension by separating from the community, tehic~ lcind oI loneliness is he or she at-tempting to resolve? Please note that I am not trying to answer the ques-tion in any particular case. It may very well be that the .individual may have wakened to the very valid realiza-tion 'that life in this particular group does involve such a measure of pretense, superficiality, and meaningless Loneliness VOLUME 29, 1970 George Wilson, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 forms that he or she is in danger o~ total self-estrange-ment. When there is the concomitant realization that the individual is impotent to do anything about this destructive communal pattern, it may be the better part of valor to shake the dust of this group from one's shoes. (What one in such a case makes of his personal commitment to serve God as a celibate-- which need not be in this community--is a broader question whid~ would take us beyond the scope of this article.) On the other hand, there is the possibility that a person may be unwittingly seeking to evade the existential loneliness which he just happens to be ex-periencing more painfully now than at previous stages of his growth; and this would of course be an impossible quest. This kind of loneliness is just part and parcel of being human; and no change from one community to another, even if the latter is the community of marriage, will change that fact. It might seem that all of this leaves us with a de-pressing prospect: we are going to be lonely come what may. Here Moustakas' second contribution opens vistas unsuspected by the togetherness generation, for he re-minds us of the positive value of the experience of loneliness. Loneliness is a condition of existence which leads to deeper perception, greater awareness and sensitivity, and insights into one's own being. New images, symbols, and ideas spring from the lonely path. The man living his life, accepting all signifi-cant dimensions of human existence is often a tragic man but he is a man who loves life dearly. And out of the pain or loss, the bitter ecstasy of brief knowing and having, comes the glory of a single moment and the creation of a song for joy. In creative loneliness there is an element of separation, of being utterly alone, but there is also a strange kind of related-ness-- to nature and to other persons and through these ex-periences, a relatedness to life itself, to inspiration, wisdom, beauty, simplicity, value. A sense of isolation and solitude is experienced, but a relatedness to the universe is maintained. Only through fundamental relatedness can the individual de-velop his own identity. The individual's loneliness is an ex-perience in growing which leads to differentiation of self. The person's identity comes into relief as he breathes his own spirit into everything he touches, as he relates significantly and openly with others and with the universe. Without any deep and growing roots in the soil of loneli-ness, the individual moves in accordance with external signals. He does not know his place in the world, his position, where he is or who he is. He has lost touch with his own nature, his own spontaneity (p. 50). Paradoxically it is only in the creative experience of our aloneness that we can come to realize the gift which we alone can bring in relatedness to those we love. It is true that only the love of another opens us up to the acceptance of our own worth (a point which must be emphasized to complete the picture, necessarily limited by Moustakas' perspective); but it remains true that the actual experiencing of our unique worth is our own act, one which inevitably isolates us even from the lover who stands outside en-couraging us to seize our own goodness and value, to create our true self: In actualizing one's self, one's aspirations, ideals, and inter-ests, it is often necessary to retreat from the world. One must have strength enough to withstand the temptations which arise when one is completely alone. This does not mean becoming uprooted or alienated. It means accej~ting the existential na-ture of man's loneliness and seeing Its value in the creation of being, in the emergence of self-identity, and in a more fundamental, genuine life. Cast in this light, loneliness be-comes an illuminating experience and it leads to greater heights (p. 50). The Christian should be the first to recognize the deep truth in this phenomenological description. Is it not simply another of the myriad rich forms in which the paschal mystery presents itself? All genuine life is life-through-death. In proclaiming His way Christ was also disclosing the inmost law of human life. The freedom of vocation is not the freedom to evade this law, but the freedom to choose where we will experience it. We may be alone within a religious group or alone alongside a marriage partner or simply alone in the midst of the human crowd. But alone we shall be. Whether this death of aloneness becomes the resurrec-tion of love and relationship is the real issue. That will depend in any case on our willingness to accept the loneliness and in the acceptance to be raised beyond ourselves: Loneliness is as much a reality of life as night and rain and thunder, and it can be lived creativ~ely, as any other experience. So I say, let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness there is also sensitivity, and where there is sensitivity, there is awareness and recognition and promise. Being lonely and being relatedare dimensions of an organic whole, both necessary to the growth of individuality and to the deepening value and enrichment of friendship. Let there be loneliness, for where there is loneliness, there also is love, and where there is suffering, there also is joy (p. 103). We all need acceptance and warmth and intimacy. Our religious group should at least make it possible for us to achieve it or else it is not a community at all, much less a Christian one. But the group can no more supply for the painful task of passing through the loneliness of self-acceptance, which is the price of self-transcendence, than could any marriage partner. That cup, and that privilege, is ours. Except that by an awesome mystery Christ has also made it His. + 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 ]5 GERALD~A. McCOOL, S.J. Commitment to One's Institute: A Contemporary Q estion Gerald McCool, S.J., is visiting asso-ciate professor of philosophy at Bos-ton College; Chest-nut Hill, Massa-cusetts 02167. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 The* question whether his institute as it concretely exists retains its right to bind his conscience is no longer a rhetorical one in the mind of many a religious subject. Directors of conscience who have been con-fronted with this question by religious of diverse ages in many different congregations are aware of this fact. They are also aware of their own increasing difficulty in finding satisfactory answers to the problems posed to them by religious concerning the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment to a concrete religious institute which even perpetual vows entail today. The origin of these problems is in part sociological. In-stitutes have changed radically in the past few years, and the rate of change has been uneven. Different groups in the same congregation look on the Church, the world, and religious institutes quite differently and entertain what seem at times irreconcilably diverse hopes for their future. Communal agreement is hard come by, and the unity in life and work which in the past contributed to a religious' sense of peace and se-curity no longer manifests itself on the empirical level. Naturally directors of conscience are not ignorant of the efforts being made by almost every institute to reach agreement on their basic religious and apostolic goals. They have learned during the past few years the im- * This article is a revision of a paper presented at the Seventh Biennial Institute in Pastoral Psychology, held at Fordham Uni-versity, June 16-20, 1969. In its present form it is focused more sharply on the current problem of commitment to one's own institute. The original paper, entitled "The Conscience of the Religious Subject," will appear in the forthcoming volume, Con-science: Its Freedom and Limitations ed. William G. Bier, S.J. (New York: Fordham University, 1970). portance of urging patience and charity on religious of all ages and persuasions. As defection rates increase, however, and morale problems become more grave, even in institutes which are going through the process of renewal, directors are becoming painfully conscious that much more is needed than exhortations to faith and supernatural hope in the future. Too many religious are beginning to question the assumption which under-lies such exhortations--the connection between God's personal call to them and their commitment to their institute. A genuine doubt 'is ~growing in their mind as to whether total commitment to their institute in the traditional sense is the more perfect form of Christian life today. Some may ask indeed whether the form of life led in their institute as it is, or promises to be in the immediate future, represents a truly moral way of living. These questions, of course, have been raised in the past. They recur at every period of trouble, re-newal, and reform in the Church and in religious life.1 That they should recur again today is in itself a cause for neither surprise nor disturbance. What is troubling, however, is the discovery on the part of religious and their directors that trenchant answers to them are so difficult to find. The New Situation in Religious Lile This inability to find a clear and persuasive answer to the contemporary difficulties concerning a religious' commitment to his institute does not come from simple failure of nerve, unimaginitive rigidity, or impatience at the rate of change, although these factors are opera-tive in the present crisis in religious life. It is rather the resultant vector of two forces whose interplay has still to be examined with sufficient care and penetra-tion: (1) the effect of institutional change on a subject's commitment to his institute in a period of open ended ecclesial evolution and (2) the powerful impact upon religious life of the theological pluralism which now exists, and will in all likelihood continue to exist, within the contemporary Church. The interplay of these two forces has created a new situation in religious life in which it is no longer possible for the individual re-ligious subject or his director to determine the nature, value, and obligation of his commitment to his in-stitute and to his fellow religious through a simple x St. Thomas replied to d~fficulties of this sort in his Summa contra Gentiles, III, 130-8. Suarez produced a similar defense at the time of the Counter-Reformation; see William Humphrey, Fran-cisco Suarez: The Religious State. A Digest o] the Doctrine Con-tained in His Treatise "De statu religionis'" (London: Burns and Oates, 1884). Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 ]7 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 application to his individual situation of the theology of the religious life which carried religious safely through the early years of the post-Vatican renewal.2 The existential development of religious life and the rapid evolution of theology have confronted the individual religious with a problem of conscience with which they cannot cope alone. The individual religious and his director require the aid of theologians and the help of their own institutes. And they will receive that help only if firstly institutes and theologians together accept the fact that the early post-Vatican period is over and that a new religious and theological situation is in existence now, and if secondly the institutes, with the careful help of theologians, make clear and definite decisions about their life and work based on an in-telligent commitment to a theology of the religious life which they accept. In the early years of post-Vatican renewal, the director of conscience found in the post-conciliar theology of the religious life a clear grounding of the supernatural value of the life of the counsels and an exposition of the relation of institutional structure to personal vocation. With their help he was able to work out a ~ For the influence of process thought on Catholic philosophy, see Leslie Dewart, The Future o] Belie] (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966) and the stimulating and provocative article of Eugene Fonti-helle, "Religious Truth in a Relational and Processive World," Cross Currents, v. 18 (1967), pp. 283-315. Its influence upon highly respected theologians can be seen in three important articles which appeared recently: Wilhelm Kasper, "Geschichtlichkeit der Dogmen," Stimmen tier Zeit, v. 179 (1967), pp. 401-16; Avery Dulles, "Dogma as an Ecumenical Problem," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), 397- 416; and George Vass, "On the Historical Structure of Christian Truth," Heythrop Journal, v. 9 (1968). For the newer approach in moral theology which will affect religious life, see George Curran, Christian Morality Today (Notre Dame: Fides, 1966) and Absolutes in Moral Theology (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). The Catholic theologian whose name is closely associated with the new theology of hope, esehatology, and earthly realities strongly influenced by the independent Marxist philosopher, Ernst Bloch, is Johannes B. Metz; see his Theology o] the World (New York: Herder and Her-der, 1967). These books and articles are simply a random sample of recent publications by serious and influential writers. There is no doubt that we are in a period of rapid and profound theological development. We must realize, however, that the process epistemol-ogy and metaphysics which are winning increasing favor with serious Catholic theologians does not simply call into question the philosophical grounding of the traditional Christian wisdom spir-ituality associated with the names of Augustine, Bonaventure, and Thomas, which underlies so many classics of the spiritual life; it also challenges the epistemological and metaphysical foundations of some of the most influential post-Vatican theology of the religious life, notably that of Karl Rahner. Ignorance of ~his fact can cause woe to an unwary retreat director, especially in communities of younger religious. It can also be a source of trouble for congrega-tions which are rewriting their constitutions. satisfactory understanding of the mutual obligations of subject and institute with which he could handle per-sonal problems of commitment in congregations as they then existed. This theology also enabled him to cope with the personal problems of the early post-conciliar years when many congregations dragged their feet in implementing the Vatican II reforms. It proved a rea-sonably satisfactory instrument for solving the prob-lems of individual religious in the later and more dif-ficult period of communal involvement in renewal in which community division with its consequent fear and hostility became a problem for many institutes. If we simply review the history of those stages in the evolution of religious life we may be able to see why the re-ligious and his director were able to deal with the question of religious commitment as an individual prob-lem then and why it is that today they are no longer able to do so. Post-Vatican Theology: Nature and Value o] Reli-gious Life Post-conciliar theology defended the value of the counsels as an integral part of the Church's eschatologi-cal witness and indicated the role which religious in-stitutions play as visible signs of her holiness,s In doing so it clarified the reasons which justify the renunciation of fundamental human goods through the three vows. It also explained the ecdesial basis for the authorita-tive specification of the religious life in institutes in which a life of rule is lived under the direction of re-ligious superiors. Religious belong to what Karl Rahner has called the charismatic element in the Church. Their conviction that God has called them to follow Christ in the re-ligious life is based on a non-formal process of in-ference which Saint Ignatius has called the discern-ment of spirits. Their decision to follow the divine invitation is freely taken. "Its motive is growth in the service of God and their neighbor and in the intimate union with God which Christian writers from patristic times have called holiness. The renunciation of earthly goods which the vows entail is justified because it is the manifestation of the Church's eschatological faith and hope. Through this renunciation religious institutes give living public witness to the Church's certitude that life's significance does not rest exclusively on the encounter with God in the use of His creation but on the lived 8See Karl Rahner, Theological Investigations, v. 3 (Baltimore: Helicon), pp. 58-104 and SchriIten zur Theologie:. v. 7 (Einsiedeln: Benziger, 1966), pp. 404-79. See also Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spirit (Washington: Corpus Books, 1968). ÷ ÷ ÷ Con~mltraent VOLUME 29, 1970 19 4, Gerald A. McCooi, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0 hope of an encounter beyond the limits of space and time.4 A religious community in the visible Church is a response to a common charismatic call in which its members participate and which is the supernatural bond of their union. Since that call is given in the Church as a summons to give stable social witness to her holiness and hope, communal life of the counsels acquires visible form in the diverse religious institutes. Thus the interior charism unique to each institute finds the external expression through which it can be thema-tized and communicated; and the interior bond of charity which binds its members to God, to the Church, and to each other receives verbal expression in its con-stitutions.~ Consequently religious vows are not taken in vacuo. They are always taken in a specific institute whose constitutions thematize the charismatic vocation to which each religious commits himself. Through her approval of the constitutions the visible Church commits her-self to the religious as authentic witnesses of her life and hope. On the basis of this theological justification of the nature and value of the religious life, the religious sub-ject at the beginning o[ the post-Vatican renewal was able to set down some general principles for the forma-tion o[ his conscience in relation to his commitment to his institute and to the legitimate demands on him which followed from it. (1) His decision to follow the religious life is morally justified through its public eschatological witness and through its service to God in the life of His Church. Its nature is distorted and its moral value compromised if it degenerates into an irresponsible flight from par-ticipation in the world through fear or dislike of God's creation. From the theology of the free person in the Church it follows that an individual call to manifest her sanctity through the public witness of the counsels should come in every generation to a number of generous Christians. Not only may Christians be religious, some of them should be. (2) Although the constitutions of a religious institute are not identified with its common charismatic call, its inner spirit, and its internal bond of charity, the con-stitutions cannot be separated from them either--a fact * Rahner, Schrilten, v. 7, pp. 404-34. r We notice here the strong similarity between the relation established by Rahner in his spiritual theology between institutional structure and charismatic call and the relation established by St. Ignatius between religious rule and the interior law of charity in the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. which Saint Ignatius saw most dearly. The constitutions of an institute are not purely juridical regulations with little or no relation to its interior spirit. They are the medium through which the religious vows can specify and maintain a perduring commitment to a common way of life. Consequently, superiors, in fidelity to God and to the Church, have an obligation to see that they are observed. For, if a way of life is allowed to grow up within an institute which is at variance with the specific manifestation of the. Church's holiness which it has been called to manifest, that institute has lost the supernatural justification for its existence. Thus com-plete freedom to follow individual decisions cannot be permitted to a subject in a religious institute. A Christian called to religious life is called to accept a limitation on his freedom through obedience to his institute and its superiors. ($) Furthermore, since he shares in a common charismatic call which is incorporated in a specific in-stitute, indications of the divine will should ordinarily come to him through his institute and its superiors. Although there can be legitimate conflict at times, it is hard to reconcile a religious vocation with the convic-tion that the subject must make every important decision on his own responsibility and that the moral authority of a religious superior is restricted to his right to offer counsel. As one religious order recently expressed it: "A man who, time after time, is unable to obey with good consdence, should take thought regarding some other path of life in which he can serve God with greater tranquility." 6 The theology of the religious life which flourished after the Council not only gave the religious subject a dearer picture of the nature and value of the religious life than he had previously possessed; it also provided him with the principles through which a number of the problems arising from the conflict between obedi-ence and his moral conscience could find an answer. A proper understanding of the theology of the religious life made it clear not only that the constitutions of an insitute specified the obligation of the subject but that they also specified and restricted the legitimate authority of his superior. Superiors may rule only in accordance with the constitutions; and, in an institute whose reason for existence is to manifest the Church's sanctity and supernatural hope, they must rule religiously. Through his vows the subject has acquired a claim upon the conscience of his superior. For he has received a per-sonal call from God to a life of individual witness and Society of Jesus, Documents of the Thirty.First General Congre-gation (Woodstock, Md.: Woodstock College, 1967), p. 55. 4. Commitment VOLUME. 29, 1970 21 + 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS service within a specific community. Not all of the de-mands which God makes on him can be determined by following uncritically in a quasi-automatic way the gen-eral orders of superiors. A number must be determined in-dividually by the discernment of spirits. Since the subject's vocation has been entrusted to his institute, he has the right to the personal direction and understanding of his superior in his efforts to discover God's personal will for him. The superior in turn has the inescapable obligation to provide it, and to provide it as a religious superior and not as the director of a secular enterprise. Further-more, a religious institute is a community of free in-dividuals within a visible Church to which they have a definite responsibility. God will inspire them through thoughts and desires to move their institute to greater service to His Mystical Body. As they are bound to communicate these thoughts and desires to their superiors, superiors, because of their responsibility to their institute and to the Church, are bound to listen to their subjects and to consult them individually and collectively. The "Relectant'" Stage oI Post-Vatican Renewal In the period immediately after Vatican II these principles were not the commonplaces they have long since become. Older religious can still recall the thrill of their discovery through personal reading or through the conferences of retreat masters. Government at that time often left much to be desired in many a religious institute. Superiors, who were at times quite ignorant of the theology of the religious life, ruled impersonally and on occasion gave the impression of a political mode of action which did not show the proper regard for the rights of the subject and the true interests of the universal Church. The problems of conscience which this mode of government created for intelligent, sensitive, and far-seeing religious are too well known to call for repetition here3 Nonetheless the informed religious subject or his di-rector felt that they could chart a reasonably clear course of action through which a subject could fulfill his personal call to genuine Christian life and activity in true commitment to his institute. Most of .the problems of that time, after all, were simply the result of a subject's living in an institute whose life and government were not in accord with the approved theology of the religious life. Subjects who were equipped to do so would work for the reform of their 7 For a well documented and frank account of these problems, see Robert W. Gleason, The Restless Religiou~ (Dayton: Pflaum, 1968). institutes through personal action. Others, while wait-ing [or the coming reform of their institute, could fre-quently solve their problems by using the principles of traditional moral theology concerning the reaction of a subject to an unjust command. Difficult as this period was psychologically, it was not a period in which the religious subject necessarily felt discouragement about the ability of the approved theology of the religious life to solve his present problems and bring about the eventual renewal of his institute. The Period o[ Rapid Evolution and Renewal After this initial period of hesitation and resistance, religious institutes entered into the general movement of renewal and reform to which each congregation was asked to contribute through a revision of its consti-tutions. As it proceeded, that task proved more diffi-cult than most religious anticipated that it would be. It was at that period that the beginnings of the present question of the commitment of the religious to his institute began to manifest itself. Once a movement of evolution and reform gets under way, commitment to the existing constitutions of an institute becomes provisional. It is---or was--assumed that in their re-vised form they will be a more exact expression of the present charismatic call which God is now addressing to the institute. Yet, since the constitutions specify the common commitment of the subjects to the insti-tute and to each other, their sudden mobility, after a long period of stability, has affected the bond of union in the evolving communities. Problems now arise in the conscience of the religious concerning his relation to his community and his fellow religious which were not there before. When the post-Vatican reform began it was rather generally agreed that the period of communal discern-ment of spirits would reach its consummation in a renewed institute to whose revised constitutions the individual subjects could commit themselves with peace of soul. But in a changing world and in a changing Church, who can say when the period of evolution will come to an even relative rest? And now that we are learning to think of God and His revelation in terms of process and event rather than of substance and stable judgment, can we any longer feel that stable constitu-tions are any longer desirable or even possible? Does not that make any set of constitutions provisory and relative? Furthermore, discernment of spirits is not an automatic process whose success is guaranteed. It is a delicate work of grace. Human resistance, weakness, and obtuseness can prevent it or delay it until the 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 4" "4" Gerald A. McCool, S.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "~4 kairos, the providential time allowed by God, has passed. Religious, both subjects and superiors, who are con-cerned with changes in the life and work of their institute know very well that the movement of renewal, like every human movement, is not the outcome of a simple impulse of the Holy Spirit but the resultant vec-tor of multiple and complicated forces. Secular ideas and desires are in the heart of every man. Worldliness and spiritual blindness will make their contribution to the movement too. That is why the process is called the discernment of spirits, and that is why, like every discernment of spirits, it is a risky business. In the process of discernment of spirits whose term is still undefined, an ambiguous situation is created concerning the very nature of the life to which the mem-bers of the institute have given their vowed commit-ment. If the present constitutions are to undergo revision, perhaps indefinitely, what is the subject's com-mitment to them in their actual form? If the institute should take a wrong turn or miss its kairos, what will be his commitment to the constitutions in the future? It would appear that the religious subject is invited to enter upon an indefinite process of judging his institute in its fidelity to the call of grace and that his individual judgment will have a radical effect upon his commit-ment. It is not surprising, therefore, that uncertainty about their future commitment to their institute has begun to trouble the consciences of many religious and that divergent hopes and fears concerning the form of its future life and work make them perplexed over the attitude which they are called to take in relation to their superiors and fellow subjects. At a time when the future of his institute is undefined, when should a superior or a fellow subject be deferred to as a religious who is exercising under grace his authentic call as a prophetic leader and when must he be resolutely and uncompromisingly opposed as a traitor to the institute? In what does loyal commitment to one's institute con-sist at the present time? What is charity, and what is selfish cowardly silence for the sake of peace and per-sonal survival? These are the difficult questions which the director of conscience is asked to solve time after time. The task of aiding the religious subject to discern the movement of the Spirit from the distorting influences of human infidelity, complacency, and weakness has been complicated by the rapid evolution of theology in the post-conciliar Church. The theology of the Church, of revelation, of grace and nature, has been the subject of considerable, and sometimes turbulent, debate dur-ing the past few years. The consequence has been a renewed discussion concerning the nature of Christian holiness, the force and duration of the vows, and the value of the witness of the counsels in their tradi-tional institutional form. This lively discussion cannot fail to call into question the fundamental understand-ing of the religious life which is taken for granted by many sets of constitutions. More may be involved than simple adaptation and renewal. Perhaps radical and total revision may be called for in the light of a newer theological understanding of the religious life. Should that be the case, what then becomes the status of loyal commitment to the constitutions of one's holy founder? Nevertheless, working on the principles of classical post-Vatican theology, the director of conscience felt until fairly recently that he was in a position to guide a religious toward the solution of his problems about commitment to a divided and changing institute. Since the Church had invited religious institutes to reform their constitutions, it was a safe assumption that many of them were no longer adequate expressions of the community's charismatic call. Furthermore, since com-munal discussion on various levels was the recom-mended means, there were good prima facie grounds for the assumption that the interplay of different points of view would be the means employed by the Holy Spirit to manifest the form of life and work to which the institute should now commit itself. Classical post-Vati-can theology also gave the reason why this process could be expected to lead to radical changes in some insti-tutes, s The type of religious life suited to monastic-contemplative communities is very different from that demanded by an active-apostolic group. The order and form of life and prayer, the religious virtues re-quired of subjects, the relationship between subject and superior differ widely in these two types of institutes. In the past this essential difference was not sufficiently appreciated, and active congregations, especially of women, received a set of constitutions which were not suited to their active life. In such groups we could an-ticipate great changes. Likewise we would expect that at a period in which the secular institute is coming into its own some institutes or groups within existing institutes would be moved by the Holy Spirit to adopt this form of life for their active apostolate. Church historians during the post-Vatican period of renewal reminded religious and their directors that ~ Orsy, op. cit., pp. ÷ 4- 4. ¢o~t VOLUME 29, 1970 25 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS movements of renewal and reform within religious groups were often the result of the work of charismatic leaders. And often the prophetic action of such leaders led to dissension and ultimate division in their own institutes. The work of the Spirit can be accomplished through bitter disagreement and ultimate division of groups which were once united. This was true of the divisions among the Franciscans and the Carmelites. It was true in the United States when the Paulists seceded from the Redemptorists to form a new congregation. On the basis of these historical and theological con-siderations, which are quite familiar to anyone who has even a general acquaintance with the post-conciliar literature, directors of conscience were able to derive a number of principles to handle problems of religious commitment in divided and evolving institutes. These prindples, which worked successfully and still retain a good deal of their validity, can be summed up as fol-lows. (I) Since it is not inconceivable that the interplay of conflicting hopes and fears which divide an institute may be destined by God to lead either to a painful but providentially destined division or to a dearer under-standing of the future form of life to which a united institute can commit itself, the individual religious sub-ject cannot deny in an a priori way that in the same congregation commitment to the institute and corre-spondence to their special grace may reveal itself in dif-ferent subjects through fundamentally different orienta-tions. Whatever may be the consequence which God ultimately intends, these diverse hopes and fears can be a faithful answer to a charismatic call which, for the moment, remains a common one. If they should lead to an ultimate division, the new institutes will be re-lated to each other through their origin in grace. They will be filial or sister institutes. (2) Therefore the individual religious subjects who find themselves in such an evolving situation are still united by the bond of fraternal charity and justice. Each is still called upon to contribute in the measure of his ability to the clarification of the future options which are emerging now. (3) Meanwhile the subject remains under the obedi-ence of the institute through whose constitutions his vocation is specified at the present time. Its rule, its superiors, and his fellow subjects retain the claim on him conceded to them by his vows. Since its mem-bers are being led to their future vocation through their present institute, ways of acting or of withdrawal from common activity which violate the justice and charity he owes them are not permitted to him. The New Situation in Religious LiIe Today, however, the director of conscience is begin-ning to wonder if it is safe for him to handle individual difficulties about religious commitment on the basis of these general principles. In the first place they are based on the theology of the religious life which is associated with the Constitution on the Church and the Decree on the Renewal o] the Religious Li]e for which he could once assume general acceptance among religious. In terms of that theology religious life is justified on the basis of its witness to the sanctity and eschatological hope of the visible Church. In the second place they rested on the assumption that unless there was striking evidence to the contrary each institute was passing through its providential kairos and was being led by God to its providential renewal or division. In the third place they took for granted that, unless clear evidence to the contrary existed, each religious could be assumed to have given a stable commitment to his institute and to his fellow religious, the nature and extent of which was given accurate expression through the constitutions. On the basis of that commitment, a supernatural bond existed among the members of the congregation. They were a family, a society within the Church with all the rights and expectations which membership within such a family entailed. It is becoming increasingly difficult for the religious subject or his director to make these assumptions as confidently as he did in the past; and if they cannot be made, the whole context within which problems dealing with religious commitment must be solved has been changed. There are many reasons for their present difficulty. To begin with, it is no secret that the movement of renewal is not going well. The defection figures are becoming alarming. Many religious, rightly or wrongly, seem to have reached the conclusion that in the movement of reform their institute has missed its kairos. Either it has failed to yield in time to the move-ment of the Spirit or it has yielded too much to the spirit of the world. In any event, these religious have decided that the form of life and work prescribed by their institute is no longer the way in which they can do the most for God. Other religious have withdrawn interiorly and made no secret of their withdrawal. Even though they remain within .the institute, they are alien-ated from it and leave their fellow religious uncertain about the depth, extent, and duration of their com-mitment to it. The longer the present unhappy stage of renewal continues with its increasing number of ÷ ÷ ÷ ~omm~ment VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ + 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS defections and interior withdrawals, the greater will be the uncertainty of the religious subject concerning the commitment of his fellow subjects and even of his su-periors. And, if he can no longer be certain that their actions are proceeding from commitment to the insti-tute. how should be behave toward them? Should he continue to deal with them in all simplicity as fellow religious? Or should he be prudent and follow the ordinary rules of political morality? Furthermore this disturbing ambiguity concerning his fellow religious' commitment to the institute does not come simply from ignorance of the judgment which they have made, perhaps definitively, about its [actual state. It also comes from uncertainty about the norm which they are using to measure its spiritual health and prospects for the future. Increasing theological di-versity, legitimate enough and even necessary within the larger body of the Church, is beginning to lead to di-versity among the members of the same institute con-cerning the nature and end of the religious life, the virtues which should characterize religious, the hope to which they witness, and the extent and duration of the commitment which they make to the community and consequently to each other through the three vows. That such diversity exists today among the mem-bers of religious groups is clear enough to anyone who has been engaged in the work of religious renewal. Often it lies beneath the surface, dividing religious who are not yet fully conscious of the depth and extent of their division. It shows itself, however, in retreats, in discussions, and in reflections about the formation of religious when different conclusions flow from dif-fering presuppositions which should be analyzed and clarified. Consequently, for many a religious subject his in-stitute has become a very unstable community. He has the uneasy feeling that its constitutions in their present form, even after their revision, and the style of life and work which its superiors prescribe or permit, through uncertainty, expediency, or a genuine desire to "paper over differences" for the sake of peace, no longer ac-curately express the nature, extent, and duration of the commitment which many of his fellow religious are making in reality to his institute in its actual, concrete form. Yet the commitment of his fellow religious creates the bond which makes the institute a living reality. Its duration makes the community a stable family; the depth, extent, and primacy which it occupies in a religious' life determines the depth and breadth of his association with his community and the priority which that association holds among the other commitments, professional and social, in his life. A notable change in the commitment of a significant number of individ-ual religious cannot fail to modify the nature of their institute. Thus, after a certain limit, ambiguity about the object, depth, and duration of its subjects' present commitment places the real nature of their institute in doubt. This doubt in turn creates a second doubt in the mind of the individual subject about his own obli-gation to the organization as it presently exists in the real order, and this doubt cannot fail to afl~ect his own commitment. Obviously this is an escalating process which, ultimately, can lead to a major change in an institute or even to its destruction. This agonizing doubt about the real nature of his institute today as a result of the change in the commit-ment of his fellow religious is the new problem of commitment which is troubling the peace and under-mining the vocation of many religious who weathered the storms of the earlier periods of renewal quite success-fully. This time, however, neither he nor his director can solve the problem by themselves with the resources which they now possess. The nub of the problem is a doubt which the religious cannot resolve himself. Since he cannot read hearts, he must be able to as-sume with reasonable probability that the vows as they are specified in his institute accurately express a genuine and stable union of minds and wills among its subjects. If he cannot make that assumption, he does not know what it is to which he has pledged him-self through his commitment to his community. Neither does he know what communal support, natural and supernatural, he may expect in return. Need to Eliminate Ambiguity To eliminate this ambiguity, or at least to reduce it to the proportions which are compatible with the existence of a viable religious community, existing in-stitutes, especially the larger ones, will have to confront more clearly, and perhaps more courageously than they have done so far, its two major sources: the uncertain relation between their constitutions and the genuine commitment of their subjects and the unanalyzed re-lation between their constitutions and the theology of the religious life on which they rest. Some institutes will be asked to examine more honestly their present state. Does their religious life as it is actually lived conform to the ideal which their institute proclaims? Prolonged compromise and delay of genuine renewal, even for apostolic and economic reasons, inevitably lead to ambiguity concerning the real commitment re-quired of a subject in the institute and can easily lead 4- 4- 4" Commitment VOLUME 29, 1970 29 4. 4. 4. Gerald A. McCool, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today to discouraged alienation among the young and generous. Other communities are being asked to ex-amine more carefully whether they are called to lead a contemplative or active-apostolic life. Although they are different vocations, both are viable. Is it not possible that in some institutes a division into separate groups following each of these vocations might be a healthy, and perhaps a necessary thing?9 Theological Pluralism and the Constitutions Because of the increasing theological diversity which is already affecting the Church of the present and which will mark the Church of the future even more pro-foundly, it will be necessary for each institute to clarify the theological suppositions which justify its basic choice of life and work. The development of philosophy and theology within the Church, the ihfluence of process philosophy and theology upon Catholic understanding of ecclesiastical structures and the formulation of doctrine, the impact of a newer understanding of the relation of grace and nature, of eschatology and earthly values upon Catholic understanding of the spiritual life have had their effect on religious' attitudes toward prayer, penance, action, contemplation, and service of the Church. That there is a diversity on many of these topics and that such diversity will continue is a fact that we must accept. That there will be and should be a much greater range of free opinions in the Church of the future is a position which most theologians accept today. And if such diversity means, as it seems it does, diverse understandings of the nature and value of re-ligious life, this is a fact which we must accept and whose implications we must analyze. When diverse theological opinions become free in the Church the right to live one's life in the light of them must be respected. If they are solid enough to base the commitment of a total life, the legitimacy of a religious institute based on them can hardly be denied. If, on the other hand, the solidity of opposed theological opinions remains strong enough to ground the commitment of a total Christian life, the legiti-macy of a religious institute grounded on them cannot be questioned either. Thus we may find in all likeli-hood that there will be in the Catholic Church re-ligious living accordingly to theologically diverse under-standings of the religious life. What would not make sense, however, is that they should be endeavoring to do so in the same institute. For it is difficult to under-o For a provocative discussion of this point, see Felix Cardegna, "Future Forms of Religious Life," Catholic Mind, v. 66, (1968), pp. 9-13. stand how constitutions embodying one fundamental conception of the religious life could thematize a com-mitment to an opposed one. Such constitutions would be simply a juridical form concealing basic differences. They could not be the vital expression of communal witness and spiritual unity. Consequently religious congregations, especially the larger ones which have the resources to do so, must examine very soon the theological presuppositions which lie at the basis of their constitutions. Do their con-stitutions express a conception of the religious life which is still viable and to which they wish to give the witness of their lives? I[ not, then they must change the constitutions, even though they express the dearest thought of the holy founder. If so, then they must spell out their fundamental theological position.s, even though there may be other opposed positions which are now free within the Church. If this is done, the individual subject will have a chance to see what it is to which the institute commits itself and to judge whether or not he wishes to make the same commitment. Retreat directors will have a better chance to help individual religious in their endeavor to find the will of God and novice masters will be in a better position to give solid answers to the reasonable questions of the young. This will not be an easy task. It will take openness, skill, and the employment of the best theological talent which a congregation has at its disposal. Its urgency, however, is becoming more apparent every day and we may anticipate that before long the general chapters and congregations of the larger congregations will be obliged to address themselves to it. 4. 4. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 SISTER M. TERESANTA RYS, C.S.F.N Recreation, and Relaxation in Religious Life ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta writes from Marian Heights; 1428 Mon-roe Turnpike; Mon-roe, Connecticut 06468. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Psalmist says: "Have leisure and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). Recreation and relaxation presuppose leisure time. The term leisure will be used repeatedly in this paper and hence must be defined. The concept of leisure cannot be expressed in simple synonymous terms. To do so would be to risk misinterpretation. The explanation of the con-cept will form the introduction to this paper. Leisure, it must be clearly understood, is a mental and spiritual attitude--it is not simply the result of external fac-tors, it is not the inevitable result of spare time, a holiday, a weekend, or a vacation. It is, in the first place, an attitude of the mind, a condition of the soul, and as such is utterly contrary to the ideal of "worker" in each and every one of the three as-pects under which it was analysed: work as activity, as toil, as a social function. Leisure is a form of silence, of that silence which is a pre-requisite to the apprehension of reality: only the silent hear, and those who do not remain silent do not hear.leisure is a receptive attitude of mind, a contemplative attitude, and it is not only the occasion but also the capacity for steeping one-sell in the whole of creation. - Leisure is not the attitude o[ mind o[ those who actively intervene, but o[ those who are open to everything? From the outset it can be seen that leisure is meant to lead us to God. This is not to imply that time, activities, and negative aspects as off-duty time and non-work activi-ties are not related to leisure.2 But these are not of its essence. Regarding the elements of time and activity, ". 1Josef Pieper, Leisure the Basis ol C, ulture, trans, by Alexander Dru (New York: New American Library, 1963), pp. 40-1. a See Roll B. Meyersohn, "Americans Off Duty," in Free Time: Challenge o] Later Maturity, ed. Wilma Donahue and others (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan, 1958), pp. 45-6. leisure is unobligated time which can be spent in any way one wishes. It is supposed to be refreshing, diverting, and enriching, and what set of activities provides for such qualities is to be a matter of personal taste." s Philosophers, spiritual writers, and psychologists throughout the ages have acknowledged the predomi-nance of the divine motive in leisure, but at the same time they have emphasized the physical benefits as well. Plato, for instance, says: But the Gods, taking pity on mankind, born to work, laid down the succession of recurring feasts to restore them from their fatigue, and gave them the Muses, and Apollo their leader, and Dionysus, as companions in their feasts, so that nourish-ing themselves in festive companionship with the Gods, they should again stand upright an~erect.' One author paraphrased Thomas Aquinas' position on leisure by stating that the man who reasons and contem-plates "must occasionally relax the tension of reason by resting the soul. This rest of the soul is a form of pleasure.''5 Currently, Father Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., notes that man is a composite being--body, soul, mind, emotions. These work as a unity. Just as a body has need of refreshment, the emotions and mind need it, too. This refreshment they get from recreation.6 Because the world in which we live places so much value on work and activity, many persons, including religious, determine the worth of an individual by how much and how well she produces. Whatever is done must have a utilitarian purpose or it is worthless. The individual be-comes a functionary. This, in spite of the fact expressed by Alexander Reid Martin: So the poets and philosophers for thousands of years have agreed upon the supreme importance of leisure. But modern man apparently cannot avail himself of this blessing. With more leisure time available, there is a lessening capacity to en-joy it and to use it creatively and constructively. Modern man finds that he cannot relax to order.7 As religious who are pressed for time, zealous to do all we can to further God's glory through our various apostolates, we must beware of the fallacy of overwork. Throughout the Christian centuries we have become imbued with the idea that work is noble and good, and that it is through work that we will help achieve our sal-vation. Many of us have, as stated, accepted the fallacy of 8 Ibid., p. 48. ' Plato as cited by Pieper, Leisure, p. 19. ~ e Father Emmanuel, O.C.D., "The Need of Relaxation," Spiritual LiIe, v. 7 (1961), p. 222. ~ See Kevin O'Rourke, O.P., "Recreation in the Religious Life," Acta Records (Chicago: Acta Foundation, 1964). 7Alexander R. Martin, "The Fear of Relaxation and Leisure," American Journal o] Psychoanalysis, v. I1 (1951), p. 45. 4" VOLUME 29, 1970 + + 4. Siste~ Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the worth of an individual based on her ability to work. We have allowed ourselves to believe that unless we are occupied, we are wasting our time, we are allowing our-selves to be idle, and idleness is a breeding ground for the devil's wiles. Even our recreations have taken on a functionary air--the knitting to be done, the stockings to be darned, the papers to be corrected--all, so that we wouldn't waste timel Sixty years ago, Bishop John L. Spalding noted: We are too busy, we do too much. And the temper our rest-less activity creates makes us incapable of leisure, which is the end of work. The man is worth, not what his work is worth, but what his leisure is worth. By his work he gains a livelihood, but his leisure is given him that he may learn how to live, that he may acquire a taste for the best things, may acquaint himself with what is truest and most beautiful in literature and art, in science and religion, may find himself, not chiefly in the nar-row circles of his private interests, but in the wide world of noble thought and generous emotion? (emphasis added) There are some people who feel that leisure must be justified, for example, we relax or take recreation in order to work more efficiently or in order to restore our strength and energy. This is to revert to pragmatism. Joseph Pieper, a philosopher of our day, notes that how-ever much a person may restore health and energy through leisure, this is not primary, because leisure, like contem-plation, is of a higher order than the active life, and this order cannot be reversed. No one who looks to leisure simply to restore physical, mental, or spiritual powers, will ever enjoy the real fruits of it. He states: The point and justification of leisure are not that the func-tionary should function faultlessly and without a breakdown, but that the functionary should continue to be a man --and that means that-he should not be absorbed in the clear-cut milieu of his strictly limited function; the point is also that he should retain the faculty of grasping the world as a whole and realizing his full potentialities as an entity meant to reach wholeness? The philosopher elaborates this point and states that celebration is the soul of leisure and that since it is so, the justification and possibility of leisure is the same as that of celebration of a festival--and that basis is divine worship.1° The history of religions concurs in this judge-ment: whether in the days of Greece and Rome or in the Christian era, the "day of rest" was a day reserved for divine worship. This time was withdrawn from any specif-ically utilitarian ends: Separated from the sphere of divine worship, the cult o| the s Bishop John L. Spalding, "Work and Leisure," Spiritual Lile, v. 10 (1964), p. 78. ~ Pieper, Leisure, p. 44. lo See ibid., p. 56. divine, and from the power it radiates, leisure is as impossible as the celebration of a feast. Cut off from the worship of the divine, leisure becomes laziness and work inhuman. The vacancy left by absence of worship is filled by mere kill-ing of time and by boredom, which is related to inability to enjoy leisure; for one can only be bored if the spiritual power to be leisurely has been lost.~ Fear of Relaxation Before proceeding to the practical application of the above stated principles, it may be well to examine more specifically why religious tend to have what amounts to a fear of relaxation and recreation, why they tend to be so utilitarian in their outlooks. Many pre-Vatican II constitutions, in the chapters deal-ing with recreation, did stress the importance of partici-pation. Many encouraged religious to occupy themselves with handiwork, which supposedly gave them a sense of satisfaction in contributing to the common good even dur-ing hours of recreation (as though their conversations, their interest in fellow religious were not a form of contributing to the common good). One may ask how a person could give undivided attention to another when she was busy darning or embroidering? Father Kevin O'Rourke notes that individual religious must contrib-ute to community recreation--it is a time of giving our-selves to others and hence an obligation in charity,x2 Although the Vatican Council did not say a great deal about the recreation of religious as such, it did note in the Decree on the Ministry and Life o[ Priests that they should "readily and joyfully gather together for recreation." 13 And Pope Paul, in Ecctesiae sanctae, ex-plaining Per[ectae caritatis, notes that with regard to the order of the day: "Religious. should also have some periods to themselves and be able to enjoy suitable recrea-tion." 14 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that our novitiate training, the customs of communities, and the consti-tutions have taken their toll regarding attitudes toward recreation and relaxation. Because of these influences, many religious experience guilt feelings regarding the use of leisure: When we are not busy, we feel guilty. We are torn between hours spent efficiently organizing our lives and the minutes we set aside to waste. For many regard recreation as a waste of time ÷ and have devised ways of relaxing while washing the car or en- + 4. u Ibid., p. 59. ~ O'Rourke, "Recreation." ~ Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents o! Fatican H (New York: Guild Press, 1966), p. 551. "Paul VI, ~tpostolic Letter Ecclesiae Sanctae (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1966), p. 34. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1~70 35 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS gaging in strenuous exercise. Indeed we are still men who lead lives of quiet desperation. Perhaps I should feel guilty not because I have done too little but because I have tried to do too much. Unlike the poet, I have been so busy that I have lost my playful sense of wonder. I have forgotten to accept myself as I am and have been driven to exhaustion by futile strivings to be someone else. That is why I cannotpray, forprayer involves, a turning of my whole being toward the Lord~(emphas|s added). Some people can rest and relax on holidays and during rest periods set aside for this purpose, only when they are told to do so. They cannot permit themselves to stop, bu~ rely 'on outside authority--they are victims of a com-pulsive, authoritative regime, which can be either inner or outer or both. "In any case, a system of bargaining develops. Work and play become part of a reward and punishment philosophy. Rest is something that has to be earned. All of this smacks of a philosophy dominated by a God of vengeance Of the Old Testament and not of the God of mercy of the New Testament." 10 Some individuals relax only when they have some physical illness, because then they feel justified. The problem of retirement is closely allied to this. Some persons refuse to give up, because they feel they are letting the community down. When they are all but forced to retire, there may follow a rapid disintegration of the whole personality--organic, emotional, intellectual, and moral, because the person's phil6sophy of life prohibited true, healthy relaxation and the creative use of leisure time.17 To return to generalities, there always exists the dan-ger of allowing the sister's work to dominate her life; this isespecially true when she likes the work she is engaged in. Everything is controlled by the task to be performed--even when she recreates, she does so in order to function more effectively, and recreation otherwise becomes meaningless (as does prayer, incidentally). Be-fore long, her specialty pervades every aspect of her life, and she becomes enslaved to one view. Such a sister must take care to place work in its prdper perspective in the totality of her religious life. Work may lead us to God, but it may also distract us from Him. To maintain this proper perspective, prayer and meditation are essential,is Those who tend to be busybodies would also do well to recall a study made by E. D. Hutchinson on the bio-graphical data of many creative minds--poets, authors, composers, and so forth. He found . that the experience of sudden creative insight never oc- ~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 114-5. Martin, Fear of Relaxation, pp. 43-4. See ibid., p. 44. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 116-7. curred during the peak of mental effort, but always during a period of relaxation . in general, Hutchinson f,o, und that following a long period of what he calls "obsessional preoccu-pation with a problem, during which nothing was accomplished and there was considerable frustration, the creative thinker relinquished the problem completely. After he had relinquished this compulsive preoccupation for a period of weeks or months, the whole answer would come to him out of the blue. Hutch-inson calls this period of relaxation the period of renunciation of the problem.~ Scripture supports this contention: "The wisdom of the scribe cometh by his time of leisure; and he that is less in action, shall receive wisdom" (Sir 38:25). The pejorative significance of the inability to be leisurely and to relax is also impressed on the person's inability to rest, even in sleep. Some people feel they always have full command of their senses, which causes tension. When sleep is related to this compulsive feeling of having to be alert, it surely cannot be a means of re-laxation. It may also be pointed out that the fear of relaxation is typical of people who are unwilling to depend on others for anything--their independence becomes compulsive, and it is sometimes paraded as the virtue of self-reliance or .individuality. Such compulsive independence is indi-cative of self-distrust, actually, and of the inability to truly relax because of the imminence of intense emo-tional conflicts,a0 Those who feel that they must always be busy in some "useful" activity are the ones who subscribe to the idea expressed in the saying: "Satan finds mischief for idle hands to do." The idea of keeping busy to keep out of trouble expresses it similarly. This attitude shows itself in the person's inability to play and to ~,ork in a leisurely way. Again, those who are dependent upon a fixed routine or schedule indicate the presence of internal conflicts. The routine is self-imposed and they either comply or defy it, but they are not free. Hence, they. are unable to truly relax and use leisure time creatively. To them, leisure is always freedom [torn something, not freedom [or something.21 Such persons put themselves into straigh~ jackets and do not want to be free, to act on their own, because in doing so, they set inner conflicts into motion. Leisureliness in Work Binding ourselves to work is binding ourselves to a utilitarian process in which our needs are satisfied. Our whole lives are consumed by this process. We must ask ~Martin, Fear o[ Relaxation, p. 44. ~See ibid., p. 46. ~See ibid., p. 48. 4. + 4. Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 + 4. 4. Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~8 and answer the question: What causes a person to be so bound, and how can she free herself? Joseph Pieper an-swers: . to be tied to the process of work may be ultimately due to inner impoverishment of the individual: in this context everyone whose life is completely filled by his work (in the special sense of the word work) is a proletarian because his life has shrunk inwardly, and contracted, with the result that he can no longer act significantly outside his work and perhaps can no longer conceive of such a thing~ (emphasis added). And now, what can be done about the problem? Much, of course, depends upon the willingness of the individual to admit to herself that she is so addicted, to whatever de-gree. Without this admission, there can be no cure. Once this is made, the individual must enlarge the range of interests she has. She must learn to make leisureliness a part of her life and not limit herself only to work-related interests. But "the provision for an external opportunity for leisure is not enough; it can only be fruitful if the man himself is capable of leisure, and can, as we say, 'Occupy his leisure' or. 'work his leisure'." ua Of course, it does little good to tell a person, or for a person to tell herself, that she must not have guilt feelings or fear of relaxation. There must take place concrete efforts at relaxation and recreation--the way to develop a sense of leisure is to be leisurely. Initially, the guilt feelings will remain and may, indeed, occasion more guilt and fear. But it is only in repeated efforts and with the encouragement of someone who appreciates the value of recreation ". that I can hopefully come to appreciate the need for worthwhile recreation to sustain the religious values upon which I have grounded my life." ~4 When one is able to recreate well, one is able to pray and work well. A well-balanced, mature personality will be the conse-quence. Finally, "when the individual is able to say and to feel that convention, schedule or routine is his slave, then the compulsive needs to defy, comply, or rebel do not arise, and healthy relaxation and leisure become possible." :5 Prayer and Education Throughout this paper thus far, it has been stated that leisure is a spiritual attitude, that leisure is of a higher sphere than activity, that leisure is justified by divine worship, and that prayer is necessary to maintain a proper balance between work and leisure. It would seem from this that leisure is closely related to our prayer life. Per- Pieper, Leisure, pp. 50-1. Ibid., pp. 54-5. Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. 117. Martin, Fear o/Relaxation, p. 48. haps as religious we ought to delve more deeply into this aspect of leisure. "Prayer requires leisure, and it ought to become our leisure." ~0 Again, this presupposes that we know what leisure is. Here especially we should note that neither prayer nor leisure are utilitarian. Both prayer and leisure are those times when we need not try, but simply be hu-man, as perfectly human as possible.27 During these times we can simply be ourselves, and not be striving to be someone else, or to be striving to measure up to some goal. Forcing artificial prayers into our minds is not praying in a leisurely way. We must learn to allow the Holy Spirit to pray in us as He wills. Prayer affords us with the opportunity to get rid of preoccupations. Simply going over the day or some plans, while keeping in mind that these are for the Lord, consti-tutes prayer, and is an excellent means of banishing pre-occupations. Preoccupation with work, recall, leads to compulsive action and an inability to be leisurely; by the same token, it leads to an inability to pray: "Activism and its roots are as much in a lack of leisure as a lack of prayer." ~s Accepting prayer as leisure will help us to relieve our daily tensions; but this can be only if we do not regard leisure and prayer as a duty or as a means of relieving ten-sion. By just praying or recreating, we ease tension. And, of course, this will redound to the benefit of the commu-nity in which we live. Carrying the idea of prayer as leisure a step further, we can see a relationship between a Mass and a commu-nity recreation well celebrated. For in the Mass there is a dialogue between God and His people. There is commu-nication. Now, recreation to be really recreative must involve communication, too: "It is not stretching a point to see community recreation as the extension and fruit of the festive dialogue of the Mass; in itself it has something of the nature of a ritual and might indeed be considered a sacramental for community." .oa So, if we personalize the community recreation, if we "celebrate" it in a leisurely way, we are preparing ourselves for a personalized celebra-tion of Mass. It was noted that the task of education is to help in-dividuals to an awareness and appreciation of what is best in our culture, because in doing so, we are aiding them in acting more perfectly human. Some authors question -~ David B. Burrell, C.S.C., "Prayer as Leisure," Sisters Today, v. 37 (1965-6), p. 410. ~See the re[erences first given in notes 1, 15, 26. = Burrell, "Prayer as Leisure," p. 413. n Aloysius Mehr, O.S.C., "Community Exercises in Religious Life," REvmw for RE~.lcloos, v. 21 (1962), p. 337. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leisure VOLUME 29, 1970 39 Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS whether we should classify any aspect of leisure, recre-ation, or relaxation as "better" or of a higher type. This is not intended. What is meant is simply that, because appreciating such things as art, music, drama, and litera-ture involves the use of our more perfect faculties, they are of a higher class than those involving the use of less perfect faculties. Nor is it intended to imply that either use of leisure time is to automatically be exclusive of the other at all times. Once. again, leisure time should be spent so as to add to one's total personality--but let us not forget that this includes, most importantly, our spiritual and intellectual stature: "Leisure time, profitably employed, should bring every Sister to a consciousness of the reality of God, whether it be through listening to beautiful music, look-ing at an art object, or reading a literary work that ex-plores the depths of the human heart." a0 The type of education that an individual receives will affect her attitudes toward leisure. Consequently, it ought to be our endeavor to give our Sisters a very liberal educa-tion, both formal and informal. Certainly, in today's world, we need specialists in the field of education. But those chosen as such must be careful lest their specialty become their all-consuming interest. And those not chosen to specialize in a given subject, must avoid the error of not being interested in a given field--be it music, art, literature, or whatever--because then they would fail to enrich themselves. Communities must be sure to provide sufficient opportunities for their members to develop their potentialities and interests, lest these be allowed to atrophy. If the sisters have sufficient leisure time and adequate opportunities, more of them should become more original and creative. They will con-seqfently become more perfectly developed as whole persons. The typ~ of education our sisters receive ".must offer them access to the wealth of thinking and specula-tion, to the arts and sciences, that lie at the basis of the best in our culture . The goal of education should not be so much to teach as to offer the opportunity to ex-perience growth of the total personality, including, of course, exercise of the mind and the aesthetic skills." 31 Only then can we justly expect them to make good use of their time, both on the job and off it. And we shall be acting to prevent many problems which inevitably arise =Sister Marian, I.H.M.~ "Leisure Time: A Spiritual Asset or Liability," REVIEW FOE KEL~CIOUS, V. 20 (1961), p. 365. =George Soule, "Free Time--Man's New Resource," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. 75-6. in later years when persons have not learned how to act leisurely. We must be honest and admit that many sisters look upon leisure, recreation, and relaxation as an escape from.the toils of the day or from the monotonous exist-ence some may have to endure for various reasons. And so, it would seem, they quite naturally turn to the ever increasing viewing of television, listening to "light" music, or reading pseudosophisticated reading material found in some current magazines, all of which require little mental exertion. Education plays an important role in aiding sisters to become selective in the type of activi-ties chosen for use in their leisure. Otherwise, the sister ". will never become the educated, cultured woman her profession as educator on any academic level demands; much less will she furn out to be the mature religious woman who can say without any reservation, 'I live, yet it is not I who live, but Christ who lives in me'." as Some may object, stating that they have not been thus educated or trained. The community may then choose to conduct workshops for this purpose, using their own sisters whose profession has trained them to be knowledge-able in the various fine arts. Sisters themselves could con. verse with these professionals and learn to be selective. Not liking to read, listen to good music, or view art is not really reason enough not to engage in these activities. Sisters must learn that they can acquire a taste for them. Granted, this is not easy; it depends upon the willingness of the individual and her repeated efforts. The cultivation of an interest in the arts is as much her responsibility as the understanding and skill she is required to have in her profession. I[ there is a separation between the cultured professional and the zealous religious, the inevitable resuh is a divided personality.33 Finally: Religious women must be women of discernment. They must come to see and be convinced that compartmentalization of their minds interferes with their raison d'~tre--that of trans-forming themselves into souls owned by Christ and changed into Him. Their recognition of the genuine values inherent in the good use of leisure time, will, in reality, bring them closer and closer day by day to an adherence to the truth, and to the One who is Truth Itself.** Once again, this is not to imply that physical activities ÷ are never to be used, nor that leisure is not ever meant for ÷ simpler types of relaxation. These are needed, too, be-cause they fortify both mind and body by not making difficult demands on either. ILei~re, Sister Marian, "Leisure Time," p. 365. See ibid., pp. 370-1. Ibid. VOLUME 2% 1970 41 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Play Under the general heading of "play" we can develop many ideas. ]?or example, our work may become play-- when we aquire a relaxed attitude toward it as opposed to compulsive preoccupation: "Enjoyment comes from doing the best I can without the anxious feeling that I must do everything or be dubbed a failure. The fact that I reserve time for living the inactivity of recreation gives me the presence and peace of mind I need to respond fully to the moments." 36 The Sacred Scriptures have repeated incidents of play: God created the sea, with all its schools of fish and many ships, "to make sport of it" (Ps 103:25-6); exegetes of the Bible apply the passage from Proverbs 8:27-31 describing an observer of creation to Mary who "was delighted every day, playing before him at all times, playing in the world: and my delights were to be with the children of men"; and, of course, there is the famous incident of David playing and dancing before the ark of the covenant (1 Chr 15:29). Perhaps we should take the example, lest we take our work too seriously and it make us its slave and we become proud and self-sufficient. We must be serious about our work to a point--but, then, we must find enjoyment in it.3n Because play involves successes and failures, it helps a person to adjust to these in the more serious business of li[e. Because it teaches the person to "rub elbows" or socialize, play teaches teamplay: The experience and training received in good play are indis-pensable to the well-adjusted individual . Play is training in ajpplication and concentration, and it is training, in socializa-aon. ;. There is no better means o[ turning interest away from self and such unhealthy things as phantasy and self-centeredness toward the objective world of-things and people than absorption in play . Play. is an indispensable train-ing in the serious work oF lifeY The primitive drive of aggression in an individual adult is satisfied for a part in work and education. But not all excess energy and aggression can thus be diverted. Another outlet is found in play. Besides providing such an outlet, play teaches us to overcome dislikes and hatreds which may otherwise develop to unreasonableness. Unless excess aggresiveness and energy are released in some beneficial manner, it will produce mischief and mental illness.3S The discussion on play quite naturally brir~gs to mind a~Envoy, v. 5 (1968), pp. I13. so Mehr, "Community Exercises," p. 338. S~Arthur Timme, "The Significance of Play and Recreation in Civilized Life," Mental Hygiene, v. 18 (1934), p. 54. ~ See ibid., pp. 54-6. other, more active forms of recreation and relaxation. It should be understood that active leisure applies to all. Some would tend to limit it to chronologically young persons. Perhaps a bit of an explanation would be useful, especially when we recall that Alexander Reid Martin warned that unless a person learns to use leisure properly, she may experience a rapid disintegration of her person-ality once leisure is more or less forced upon her. Actually, it is unfair to label an individual by age, be-cause it deprives her of equality. Thus labeled, a sister is judged, not by her personal qualities or lack or them, but by what is expected of her because of her particular age. George H. Soule notes that no one has yet exactly pin-pointed the essence of aging, either physiologically or psychologically, but that most experts agree that the differences within an age group are far greater than differ-ences between age groups.3~ To be arbitrarily placed in a group often leads to a person's reacting as expected, and this in turn influences the deterioration spoken of, at whatever age level. Generally speaking, however, youth can and does find opportunities for recreation and relaxation. There re-mains the danger of being overzealous and overambitious and of acquiring a sense of responsibility that they must take on added burdens as the congregation's median age rises. Of this, the young must beware--they, too, must develop leisureliness, which will not allow them to be-come preoccupied in any endeavor. The ability to be leisurely and to be able to recreate ourselves should be grasped by middle age, because . by this time most of us have reached a plateau in our jobs or professions. This is not to suggest that, t~or the specially qualified or generally ambitious, there are not further peaks to be climbed. But for the generality of us, I think, we have probably attained the peak of our job or career, and it is time to relax. We can still do our da),'s work, honesdy and competently. But we can also start thinking of our souls. By thinking of our souls I am not speaking purely in a religious sense, though I would not for a moment discount the importance of that. I am thinking rather of a reexamination of ourselves as individuals and of our lives up to this pointwto what extent we have found meaning and to what extent we have failed to find meaning, and then to realize quite soberly that this comparative leisure we have earned may stretch on for us for perhaps another quarter of a century.'° Normally, because an individual has achieved her work goals by middle age, she also derives most satisfactions from it during these years. Thes~ satisfactions she usually shares with the community, and the community should be a~ Soule, "Free Time," p. 62. 4°Clark Tibbits, "Preface," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, pp. xi-xii. ÷ 4- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 43 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS an in~entive for the individual to advance herself even more.41 But once again the sister should beware of be-coming too engrossed in her work and her own personal satisfactions, because this. will narrow her other interests. Then, when she later becomes less efficient and no longer gets such satisfactions, she will have little to go back on: "We are told that people stranded without interest goals, who seem to have no rationale of existence, often become frustrated and lapse into physical or mental illness." 42 This applies to any age group, but since satisfactions are greatest in middle age, perhaps this is the most dangerous age in regard to the fallacy of overwork and underplay. The so-called senior members of the community should not, by any means, be excluded from active leisure-time activities. It is most important that these sisters be kept active and creative, since their physical ability to work is limited, as is their sphere of interests. The community must make special provision for an organized leisure-time program for these members above all. It would be well if they had some professionally trained sisters to accomplish this. More and more colleges are providing courses in recreation leadership, because of the demand in society for such individuals. Surely, it would be to the community's advantage to have such trained personnel. These same sisters could conduct workshops for the local homes and offer suggestions as to how recreation periods could be more relaxing and more beneficial: "Sound rec-reation programs may promote good will, tolerance and understanding, and may improve societal relationships, all of which are significant to the maximum develgpment of personality." 4a Concerning the use of leisure time by all age groups, we find that all activities fall into one or more of the following categories: social and cultural advancement, creative expression, entertainment, recreation, personal development, fostering life, creative maintenance, and classification and ordering.44 These groups of activities bring about certain desired effects: diversion, which counters self-center~dness; expression, which reverses feel-ings of frustration; the struggle ]or survival, useful against regression; creativeness, a method of liberating thwarted instincts; membership, which combats feelings of iso-lation and lonesomeness; participation, to maintain a ,1 Nels Anderson, Work and Leisure (New York: Free Press, 1961), p. 180. '~ Ibid., p. 257. *a Raymond A. Snyder and Alexander Scott, Pro/essional Prepara-tion in Health, Physical Education, and Recreation (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1954), p. 5. ~See Maurice E. Linden, "Preparation for the Leisure of Later Maturity," in Free Time: Challenge to Later Maturity, p. 89. sense of self-esteem; social acceptableness, to help main-tain a good self-image; recognition, which counteracts embitterment; meaningfulness, to aid in establishing the true value of nature and life; contemplation, which con-tributes to effective judgmental functioning; sharing, to aid in improving a person's opinion of herself; and simple enjoyment of living.4~ The achievement of the above mentioned effects, certainly, will contribute to a more perfect personality. All of them result from the proper use of leisure activities. All o£ them can be achieved by any individual who de-sires to do so. But some may ask for more concrete exam-ples of how to acquire these abstract values. There are any number of ways, of course, and each way must be suited to the individual, who must consider her own physical and psychological needs. In selecting recrea-tional activities, the sister should always keep in mind that which will give her the most satisfaction at a given time. The activity in which she can best create, achieve, find beauty, fellowship, and relaxation, is of more lasting value than one which yields only one or two satisfac-tions. 46 Following is a list of activities which might be engaged in by sisters. The list is only suggestive, and not all-inclu-sive. It is offered merely to aid sisters in selecting activi-ties to make their leisure time more profitable. Active games and sports: Dodge bail, relays, softball, basketball, bowling, volleyball, rope jumping, bicycle riding, swimming, ice skating, and calisthenics. Social activities: Card games, barbecues, parties for special occasions, puzzles, dancing, and various table games (scrabble, parchesi, monopoly). Music: A cappella choirs, action songs, community singing, instrument playing, composing music, listening groups, music appreciation courses, music study groups, and music instruction. Arts and crafts: Drawing, carving of various kinds (soap, wood, and so forth), needlework, painting, paper craft, and sewing. Drama: Theatre attendance, charades, choral speech, creative dramatization, and song impersonations. Nature and outing activities: Excursions or trips to art museums and to places of religious or historic interest; flower arrangement; gardening; and nature study, col-lection, and identification. Literary, languages, and related activities: Creative writing, lectures, reading, mental games, radio and tele- ~ Ibid., pp. 89-92. ~See George D. Butler, Introduction to Community Recreation, 4th ed. (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1967), p. 240. This book is highly recommended to anyone interested in recreation leadership. Leisure VOLUME 2% 1970 45 ÷ ÷ ÷ vision programs° and study groups in literature or lan-guage. Seroice activities: Directing glee club, orchestra, dra-matic groups, assistance in organizing holiday celebra-tions, and assistance in public relations programs. The preceding list should at least indicate the wide diversity of activities which bring satisfaction and re-laxation to various individuals.4; If there is a recreation leader, she should be sure to consider differences in age, interest, skills, place available, time, size of the group, and the funds necessary and available.4s Having a recrea-tion leader, whether on a local, regional, or provincial level, would surely enhance the recreation program. It would be more organized and more e~cient and con-sequently more beneficial to those involved. Special mention must be made of vacations as a form of leisure. Recently, communities have increased the length of vacation periods and have relaxed regulations governing the way vacations are to be spent. Actually, nothing in canon law regarding religious specifies that a religious must have a vacation, but it seems that some kind of vacation is a normal requisite for an individual. It is doubtful that visits to one's family and relatives should be counted as a vacation, because these are often marked by strenuous activity and loss of sleep, so they are not physically relaxing. Even if they provide relax-ation, they can hardly be considered a religious vacation: "A vacation for religious should serve the purpose of intensifying the community spirit.'° 49 A vacation should be taken in a place away from the regular religious houses, where sisters could get together to rest, play games, and get to know one another: "In relaxation and recreation the religious see one another in a new light, and often discover remarkably fine qual-ities that they never knew existed. In my opinion there is nothing like a good community vacation for fostering a good community spirit." 50 It is recognized by superiors and sisters that all of this is true and good, but obstacles, especially financial ones, will always remain. Nonethe-less, everything possible should be done to carry out a vacation program. Regarding the idea of individual religious saving gifts or offerings to pay for the vacation, it would seem con-trary to present canon law which states that gifts received by an individual become the property of the institute. Even if the religious asks permission, the asking of per- Sister Teresanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 See ibid., pp. 253-8. See ibid., pp. 264-72. Questions on Religious LiIe (St. Marys, Kansas: R~wEw FOR R~.mious, 1964), p. '112. Ibid., p. 113. missions usually pertains to what the religious needs, not what she desires. It the community permits sisters to make trips and visit their families, the community should pay the expenses. The community ought not insist upon or condone a policy of those who get the money, get the trips:51 Common life also requires that, generally spe.aking, equal opportunities be given to members of a commumty. Hence a superior could allow the members of his community to make a pious pilgrimage provided that he supplied the necessary ex-pense money for such members of his community as do not have relatives or friends who are willing to pay for them.~ However, as witnesses of the poverty of Christ, religious themselves should not desire unduly long and expensive vacations, for poor persons are unable to take such vacations. For Senior Sisters The final part of this paper will be devoted to the area of leisure, recreation, and relaxation for senior sisters. Of course, what has already been stated applies to all sisters, seniors included. But it cannot be denied that these sisters need and deserve special treatment; hence, aspects of leisure which pertain specifically to them will be treated separately. The senior sister as a member of society has, like most others, leaned on her role as worker. All other roles-- friend, citizen, adviser--revolved around her worker role in life. When she retires, she must learn to use her time and place her values differently, because new relation-ships to persons and things develop. "If mental and physical deterioration are to be avoided, new interests and new goals must be found, or old interests and aspira-tions rediscovered . The recreation program offers a fruitful means of satisfying activity for them." 53 As with everyone else, however, the primary responsi-bility for appropriate use of leisure rests with the sister herself. There are some recommendations that will help her to benefit from her new-found role. As suggested by Dr. Maurice E. Linden, these are: (I) Continue to develop your resources. Contrary to popu-lar opinion, the human m~nd continues to develop its capacity well into the seventh and eighth decades. (2) Increase your social effectiveness. Because older people have fewer human drives to contend with, they can channel their energy, thus becoming more socially effective. (3) Enjoy your wisdom. It can be a great source of gratifica-tion now, formerly denied because of inexperience. ¯ t See ibid., pp. 64-5. ~ Ibid., p. 63. ~Arthur Williams, Recreation in the Senior Years (New York: National Recreation Association Press, 1962), p. 18. VOLUME 2% 1970 + ÷ ÷ Siste~ Te~esanta REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 (4) Advance the tenets of human progress. The experience of the older mind gives it the capacity to diStinguish the good from the bad, thus enabling the community to preserve values built up over a period of time. (5) Externalize your interest. As a result of many successes in life, the older person should have the ability to be less selb centered an.d more interested in other people. (6) Place your value in quality. Again as a result of experi-ence, the older mind is capable of seeing the intrinsic value in both persons and things, and those formerly considered insig-nificant now are appreciated. (7) Don't be a spendthrift of time. Maturity enables a per-son to appreciate the value of time and aids her in spending it profitably. (8) Make your human relationships durable, It is a quality of a mature person to be unswerving in devotion to persons and to principles. (9) Don't capitalize on dependency. It is a responsibility of the young to care for the old; but well-adjusted older persons prefer to be as independent as they are capable.of being. (10) Exercise judicious independence. It is unwise to with-draw from the currents of daily life and thus deny the young people the benefit of accumulated experience and knowledge ~" These are just some suggestions that senior sisters may find helpful. It would seem that they are striving to ad-just to their situation. The communities must do all that is possible to aid these sisters, through the establishment of an effective program for the use of leisure. As men-tioned, more than in other groups, there is a definite need for trained personnel for this program. There is a need for a varied program, suited to the individual sister: "Diversity is the keynote of the per-manently successful program." 55 The program should be so planned as to include every sister. And every sister should be encouraged to participate, guarding against the tendency to just sit and watch. But her participation must be voluntary. Only in this way will her real abilities shine forth, and only in this way will she give vent to self-expression. Above all, if the program for the aging sisters is to be successful, it should be designed to improve community living. Those charged with developing the program must have confidence in the senior sisters and must be cognizant that ". older people can learn new skills, but., they learn more slowly and need to engage in recreational activities at their own pace." 56 Dr. Carol Lucas con-ducted a pilot program of study at Columbia University and authored a book in which a recreation program for ~ Linden, "Prep

Issue 20.6 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; Carl ]. P]ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 plan of all liturgical worship: 1) the service is begun with a reading; 2) after the reading follows singing; 3) and the service is ended with a prayer. Among the early Christians all prayer services and devotions were carried out accord-ing to this basic plan, and since the third 6r fourth cen-tury this has been the ruling principle of all liturgical services.-" Such a plan is not merely arbitrary, nor is an accidental or aesthetic arrangement of elements. Ac-cording to Father Jungmann: ¯. it is in character with the essential nature of the Christian plan of redemption. Our salvation, typified by the divine word which we receive in the reading, comes from God. It descends from heaven to earth and stirs within the hearts of the faithful the echo of song. Thereupon the prayers and petitions of the Christian community are gathered up and brought back to God on high by the priest. There is something dramatic about this arrangement; through it we actually come to realize what is meant in saying that the liturgy is the public worship of the Church? This structure--reading, song, prayer--is filled out ac-cording to basic themes central to Christian revelation. In the Christian message of salvation and the prayer of the Church, certain themes appear as focal, around which all other truths are centered and from which they receive their meaning.' One of these themes centers on the love and kindness God shows His people. Freely, out of love, He created man; freely and out of even greater love He has worked out man's salvation. Such generous and unmerited good-ness demands a response of love and thanksgiving. Grati-tude is thus ~een as a fundamental attitude of man, and more so of a Catholic: "O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good" (Ps 135:1). It is this scriptural theme of God's love calling forth our grateful response that runs through the proposed Thanksgiving Day "bible vigil." Perhaps a fuller explanation will be helpful. Reading God's plan of salvation is effected and manifested to us by His Word, and according to Scripture this redemptive plan is realized gradually. Somehow man's redemption was to be achieved through Israel, the Lord's chosen peo- -"J. A. Jungmann, s.J., Liturgical Worship (New York: Pustet, 1941), p. 67. Father Jungmann devotes most of this book to a dis-qussion of the basic liturgical groundplan. See also Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame' Press, 1955). ~ Jungmann, op. cit., p. 80. * For a fuller treatment of the structure and themes of Christian revelation see Johannes Hofinger, S.J., The Art o] Teaching Chris-tian Doctrine (Notre Dalne: University of Notre Dame Press, 1957) and Mary Perkins Ryan, Key to the Psalms (Chicago: Fides, 1957). Most useful for constructing "bible vigils" is Reading the Word ol God by Lawrence Dannemiller, S.S. (Baltimore: Helicon, 1960). pie. After centuries of intimate relations with Yahweh, this nation brought forth a:Savior; from this race the Word Himself took flesh. And when in the fulness of time God became man, He suffered, died and rose from the dead that men might die with Him to sin and .rise with Him to forgiveness and grace. His redemptive activity continues on through the centuries in His new people, the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church. Finally, He is to come again bringing the divine plan to its fulfillment in the new and eternal Jerusalem. The .plan itself is one; likewise the revelation of the plan is unified in the unique Word of God. The Old Testament, then, is not just a collection of interesting and sometimes edifying stories, but the gradual manifestation of God's plan for our sal-vation. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is also our Father in heaven. He is the one Lord of History, as the Church teaches us in the. liturgy of the Easter Vigil: "O God, we behold your ancient wonders shining even to our own time. For that which the power of your right hand did for one people in freeing them from Egyptian bondage you accomplish now for the salvation of all men by the waters of rebirth." Throughout the Old Testa-ment run basic themes "about God and man's relationship to Him. Although the stories vary,~ the basic relationships do not. Central to the religion o-f the Israelites was the belief that their God, Yahweh, moved by love alone, not-by any merit on their part, had called them, chosen .them out from among the nations, to be .His people_. "You shall be My people, and I will be your~ God" (Ez 36:26). The initiative was wholly on His~part. This call, given initially to Abraham, found its highest expression through Moses in the Exodus, the focal point of Jewish religious history. Their God saved them from slavery, destroyed their pur-suers, and leading them through the desert, formed and purified them into a nation, His chosen people, and fi-nally brought them to the promised.land. The initiative was all His. He perpetuated His call in a covenant with His people, a promise.eternally binding, freely offered out of love. This covenant was prepared for and initiated in the first act of creative love. It became more definitive in the Garden, then with Noah, later with Abraham, and finally with Moses. From then on, it was renewed ritually each yegr by the Hebrew people. Such a covenant renewal ceremony is found, in the book of Nehemiah, 9: 1-55. This then will be the first selection to be read. It is a prayerful remembrance of God's initia-tive in. forming and saving His people, a remembrance of His covenant, His love. After a short period for silent, prayerful reflection on the first reading, a selection from the New Testament is ÷ ÷ ÷ Thanksgiving Da~ Service VOLUME 20, 1961 399 Carl ]. P~ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS read. It indicates the continuation of God!s plan and its culmination in Christ. In Nehemiah the ritual renewal of the covenant-between Yahweh and His people is re-corded in which' the fundamental beliefs of Israel's reli-gion were proclaimed to the assembled nation. These same ideas are fundamental to our belief, for, as we saw, God's salvific plan continues into our era and culminates in Christ. What went before Christ was not accidental to God's plan, and hence, not accidental to our own reli-gious education and worship. Rather it was a preliminary stage, preparatory to the coming of the great High Priest and His priestly people. In Him all history finds its mean-ing. This is the substance of what is expressed in the second selection, taken from Paul's letter to the Ephe-sians. For what God did for His chosen people through Abra-ham, Moses, and the prophets, He continues now in a more perfect manner for us, the new Israel, through Christ. The Jews wer6 set apart by Yahweh, a chosen nation; we are adopted as His sons, made members of His eternal Son, temples of His Spirit. The Jews He led out of Egyptian slavery; He frees us from the power of Satan. The manna of old is replaced by "bread from heaven," and the vague prophecies of the Old Law have given away to the full revelation of the Word. And in-stead of a promised land "flowing with milk and honey," we look forward to-the eternal banquet, where "eye has not seen, nor ear heard . " Such is the great love of our Father in heaven for us His new people. "He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in Christ Jesus, the surpassing richness of his grace" (Eph 2:8). Song Filled with the realization of the goodness of our Father, of His love for us sinful creatures, we sing out in gratitude, making use of Hig own revealed words, Psalm 135. Joined together in a worshipping community we re-spond to His word, which has just taken vital form through 'its proclamation in our midst. We sing now, the new Israel, an ancient Jewish hymn of thanks. And as it recalls Yahweh'S great deeds for His ~oeople, we make the words our own, singing our thanks for His even more wonderful deeds toward us. Our song of gratitude is rooted in faith, faith in the Word we have just heard. This faith is our response to God's call and covenant; it, is our total, personal commitment to our Father, a total giving of self to God in return for His gifts. As with Abraham and the Israelites, this faith is the fundamental virtue of our Christian life. God calls, elects, chooses. To him whom He chooses, He freely offers His graces, eve~ ! Himself. Our response is faith, belief in what He says, but also belief in Him, personal dedication to Him, flow-ing over into gratitude, confidence and joy? Prayer Our gratitude now takes the form of prayer. We exer-cise our priestly role, proper to us who share the priest-hood of Christ by our baptism and confirmation. And we enumerate with gratitude the gifts of the new covenant. God's plan of salvation, begun in the Jewish nation, cli-maxing in the Incarnation and Redemption of Jesus Christ, continues on to us through the Mystical Christ, the Church. It is only by pertaining to this Body of Christ that the saving action of God reaches us through Christ our Lord. Through membership in the new people of God we are in personal contact with our Redeemer. His word is proclaimed in our midst, His grace is shared with us in our personal encounters with Him in His sacra-ments. Through our union with Him we are enabled to offer our Father a suitable thank-offering, the Mass. And through our ever increasing share in His life we have al-ready a ~beginning of that glory which awaits us with Him in heaven. And all of this, prefigured in Yahweh's rela-tionships with His chosen people, is a completely free gift of our Father. United, then, in one worshipping commu-nity, we offer our thanks to our Father in our united prayer. Finally, after a moment of silent prayer following our vocal prayer, the priest gathers up our grateful expres-sions and offers them to God for us. Christ's mediatorship is continued through His ordained priests. They stand between us and God, not as barriers, but as the normal means by which God comes to us and we reach up to God. Through the priest His Word is proclaimed and finds living reality; through the priest Christ allows us to come directly in contact with Him in the sacraments--a per-sonal encounter between us and our Savior. And through the priest Christ offers our prayers to the Father. Hence the service ends with the priest's prayer as our representa-tive. The particular prayer chosen dates from the year 215 A.D. and was composed by Hippolytus of Rome as a sample that migh~ be used in the first Mass of a newly consecrated bishop. It is one of the earliest extant formu-laries for the Prayer of Thanksgiving, or Eucharistic Prayer, now more commonly called the Canon of the Mass. The text has been somewhat adapted for use in this "bible vigil"; the words of consecration, for example have been omitted, as have other references to sacrifice. What remains is a beautiful prayer of thanksgiving for God's ~ For,a further treatment of faith as a personal response to God, see Jean Mouroux, I Believe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959). + 4- 4- Thanksgiving Day Se~vi~e VOLUME 20, 1961 401 Cad 1. Pleiler, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 402 redemptive work through the llfe, death, and resurrection of His Son, Christ Jesus, our Lord. Such, then, is the suggested biblical-liturgical service. Its structure leads to an appreciation of the meaning and purpose of public worship, while its content manifests an essential theme of Christian life an.d revelation. In 'this case, the theme is suited to Thanksgiving Day, Similar "bible vigils" can be worked out for almost any occasion and allow for much variety within the basic group plan of reading, song, prayer. For example, a homily may be preached after the reading(s). And although the Psalms~. are admirably suited to such services, any hymn that fits the theme may be substituted. The priestly prayers of the Mass (Collect, Secret, Preface, Postcommunion) are a rich source of acceptable prayers, as is the Raccolta. And the service may be concluded with Benediction or some other suitable rite. For example, a service constructed on the theme of Baptism might fittingly be concluded with blessing and sprinkling with holy water. So much for the explanation of the ser.vice. The text follows in full, with hymns added at the beginning: and end to round out the basic structure. If used in full, it should take about twenty minutes; verses of the Psalms may be omitted to reduce the time. ENTRANCE HYMN: [stand] Psalm 22" (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse): HIS GOODNESS SHALL FOLLOW ME ALWAYS, TO THE END OF MY DAYS. My shepherd is the Lord; there is nothing I shall want. FreSh and green are the pastures where he gives me repose. Near restful waters he leads me, to revive my drooping spirit. [Antiphon] He guides me along the right path; he is true to his name. If I should walk in the valley of darkness no evil would I fear. You are there with your Crook and your staff; with these you give me Comfort. [Antiphon] You have prepared a banquet for me in the sight of my foes. My head you have anointed" with oil; my cup is overflowing. [AntiPhon] OThe text of the three psalms used in the service is taken from Joseph Gelincau, S.J., Twenty-Four Psalms and a Canticle (Toledo: Gregorian Institute of America, 1955) with permission of the pub-lishers~ Surely goodness and kindness shall follow me all the, days of my life. In the Lord's own house shall' I dwell for ever and ever. [An[iphon] To the Father and Son give glory, give glory to the Spirit. To God who is, who was, ,:and who will be forever and ever. [Antiphon] ' ¯ GOD'S GIFTS IN PREPARATION: [sit] Nehemiah 9: 1-15, 32.' ~ '~ ¯ Then, ~n the twenty-fourth day of this same month~ the men of Israel met together, fasting, and with sack-cloth about them, and sprinkled with dust, ~nd the whole breed of Israel severed itself from all contact with alien, folk. :. This was the prayer offered by the Levi.tes . Up, friends, .and bless the Lord, your God, as blessed he musE be from the beginning to the end of timel.,Blessed be thy. glorious name, O Lords that is beyond all blessing, and all praise! Heaven is of thy fashioning, and the heaven o~ heavens, and all the hosts t.hat dw~ell there, earth and sea~, and all that earth and sea hold; to all these thou givest the life they have; none so high in heayen but must pay thee worship. It was thou,-Lord God, that didst make' choice of Abram, and beckon ~him away from Chaldea, from the City of Fire. And now~ thou. wouldst call~ him Abraham; a loyal servant thou. did~st find him, and didst make a covenant with him, promising that his race should inherit the lands of .Chanaanite and Hethite, Amorrhite and Pherezite, Jebusite, and Gergesite. That promise, in thy faithfulness, thou didst make good, Thou hadst an eye for the affliction our fathers suffered in Egypt, an ear for their cry of distress at the Red Sea; the pride~of Pharao and Pharao's court and all his people, had not passed unregarded; there were porte.nts, an£ cnarvels, and thy name won renown, as it has w~on renown this day: Thou didst part ~the,w~ters.at their coming, so that' they crossed the sea dry-shod, didst hurl their pursuers into the depths of it, so that they sank like a stone be-neath the rushing waves. Thou thyself didst lead thy people on their journey, hidden by day in a pillar of cloud, by night in a pillar of fire, to light the path they must tread. There, on mount Sinai, thou didst keep tryst with them; thy voice came from heaven to teach them thy just decrees, thy abiding law with all its observance.s, all its wholesome bidding. There thou didst reveal to them ~ From the Old Testament, volume i, in the translation of Mo~: ~ignor Ronald Knox, Copyright 1948, Sheed and Ward, Inc, New York. , ,, + Thanksgiving Day Service VOLUME'20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷" Carl 1. Ptei~er, $.], REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 404 how thy sabbath should be kept holy; law and observance and award thou, through Moses, didst hand down to them. When they were hungry, thou didst give them bread from heaven; when they were thirsty, thou didst bring water out of the rock; and for the goal of their journey didst beckon them on to take possession of this same land, which thou hadst sworn .to give them . To thee, then, we turn, who art our God, to thee, the great, the strong, the terrible God, who didst not forget thy covenant, or the mercy thou hast promised. A MOMENT OF SILENT PRAYER [kneel] GOD'S GIFTS IN FULFILLMENT: [sit] Ephesians 1:3-14; 2:4-10.8 Blessed be that God, that Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us, in Christ, with every spiritual blessing, higher than heaven itself. He has chosen us out, in Christ, before the foundation of the wbrld, to be saints, to be blameless in his sight, for love of him; mark-ing us out beforehand (so his will decreed) to be his adopted children through Jes~us Christ. Thus he would manifest the splendor of that ggace by which he has taken us into his favor in the person of his beloved Son. It is in him and through his blood' that we enjoy redemption, the forgiveness of our sins. So rich is God's grace, that has overflowed upon' us in a full stream of wisdom and~ discernment, to make known to us the hidden purpose of his will. It was his loving design, centered in Christ, to give history its fulfillment by resuming everything in him, all that is in heaven, all that is on earth, summed up in him. In him it was our 10t to be called, singleff out before-hand to suit his purpose, (for it is he who is at work every-where, carrying out the designs of his will); we were to manifest his glory, we who were the first to set our hope in Christ; in. him you too were called, when you listened to the preaching of the truth, that gospel which is your salvation. In him you too learned to believe, and had the seal set on your faith by the promised gift of the Holy Spirit; a pledge of the inheritance which is ours, tO re-deem it for us and to bring us into possession of it, and so manifest God's glory . How rich Godis in mercy, with what an excess of love he lok, ed usI Our sins had made dead men of us, and he, in'giving life to Christ, gave life to us too; it is his grace that has saved you; raised us up too, enthroned us too above the heavens, in Christ Jesus. He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in~ Chri'st Jesus, the surpassing richhess of his grace. Yes, it was grace that saved you, with faith for its instrumen.t; it s From the New Testament in the translation of Monsignor Ron-aid Knox, Copyright 1944, Sheed and Ward, Inc., New York. '/ did not come from yourselves, it wa~ God's gift, not from any action of yours, or there would be room for pride. No, we are his design; God has created us'-in Christ Jesus, pledged to 'such good actions as he has prepared befor~- hand, to be the employment of ~3ur lives. OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN SONG: [stand] Psahn 135 (All sing the following refrain after each phrase of the cantor): FOR HIS' GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END O give thanks to the, Lord for he is go~d, FOR HIS GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END. Give thanks to the God of gods . Give thanks to the Lord ,of lords . Who alone has wrought marveilous works . whose wisdom it was made the skies,. who, spread the earth on :the seas, . It was he that made ~the great lights,. the sun to rule in the day . the moon and the stars in the night,. The first-born of the Egyptians he smote . brought Israel out from their midst . arm outstretched, with power in his hand . He divided the Red Sea in two . made Israel pass through the midst,. flung Pharaoh and his ~orce in the sea,. Through the desert his people he led . Nations in their greatness he struck . Kings in their splendour he slew . He let Israel inherit their land . On his servants their land he bestowed,. He remembered us in our distress . And he snatched us away from our foes,. He gives food to all living things . To the God of heaven give thanks . OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN PRAYER: [kneel] ~lifford Howell, s.J.~ Priest: O Lord God, we thank you. People: ~O LORD GOD, WE THANK YOU. Pr: We thank you *°that our Lord Jesus Christ still lives on in His Church. ~ The text of the people's prayer is qubt¢d with pei'mission of the publisher from the leaflet by Clifford H6well, S.J., You are Christ's Body (St. Louis: Pio Decimo Press, 1949), p. 3. ÷ Thanksgiving DWy Service VOLUME 20, 1961 4o~. 4, 4, + Carl 1. P]eif~r," $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 Pe:,.WE THANK YOU * .,THAT THROUGH HIS CHURCH *' HE CONTINUES HIS ACTIV-ITIES AMONG MEN. Pr: We thank You * that when the C[aurch teaches * it is Christ who teaches. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WHEN THE CHURCH SACRIFICES * IT IS CHRIST WHO SACRIFICES. Pri We thank You Christ ~vho doe~ all these things * through the Church, His Mystical Body. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT~WE HAVE BEEN MADE MEMBERS * OF THIS MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST. Pr: We thank You * that as members of this Body * we can worship You through Christ our Head * in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WE MAY OBTAIN ALL GRACES * FROM YOUR HOLY SACRA-MENTS. Pr: We thank You * that through Your Church we may attain to Eternal Life. Pe: O LORD GOD, WE THA.NK YOU~ * TO YOU BE PRAISE IN YOUR CHURCH * AND IN JESUS CHRIST * FOR EVER AND EVER. * AMEN. A MOMENT OF SILEN~ T PRAYER. OUR PRAYERFUL RESPONSE OFFERED TO GOD THROUGH THE PRIEST: [stand] Hippolytus oI Rome?° Priest: The Lord be with you. P~eople: AND WITH YOU ALSO. Priest: Lift up your':h~arts. People: WE HAVE. LIFTEI~ THEM UP TO THE LORD. Priest: Let us give thanks to the Lord. People: IT IS RIGHT AND JUST. Priest: We give thanks to You, O God, "through Your be-loved servant, Jesus Christ, whom You have sent dtoe eums eirn a tnhde smee lsassetn tgimere° so fto Y boeu or ucro usanvsieol.r Haned i sre- Your Word, inseparable from You; thrqugh Him You have made all things and in Him You are well pleased. You did send Him from heaven into, the womb of the Virgin; carried in her womb He was made flesh and was manifested as Your Son; being born of the Holy Ghost and,. of the Virgin. FulfilIing,your Will and acquiring for You a holyl people He stretched out His hands in suffering in~ lo The full text of this thanksgiving prayer can be found in J. A Jungmann, s.J., Public Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957j~] pp. 92-3.if' order that He might free from suffering those who believed in Him . He was handed over to volun-tary suffering to rob death of its power, to break the bonds of the devil, to tread hell underfoot, to give light to the just, to set up a boundary stone and an-nounce the resurrection . Remembering there-fore His death and resurrection., we thank You that You have considered us worthy to stand before You and to serve You. And we pray that You will send down the Holy Spirit on Your Church. Be-cause You gather all together in unity, we pray that You will grant the fulness of the Holy Spirit to all the saints., that their faith may be strengthened in truth, and that we may praise and glorify You through Your servant Jesus Christ, through whom honor and glory be unto You, O Father, with Your Son and the Holy Spirit in Your Holy Church both now and for ever and ever. People: AMEN. CONCLUDING HYMN: [stand] Psalm 99 (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse.): ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA Cry out with joy to the Lord, all the earth. Serve the Lord with gladness. Come before him, singing for joy. [Antiphon] Know that he, the Lord, is God. He made us, we belong to him, we are his people, the sheep Of his flock. [Antiphon] Go within his gates, giving thanks. Enter his courts with songs of praise. Give thanks to him and bless his name. [Antiphon] Indeed, how good is the Lord, eternal his merciful love; he is faithful from age to age. [Antiphon] Give glory to the Father AJmighty, to 'his Son, Jesus Christ, the Lord, to the Spirit who dwells in our heartsY [Antiphon] n For further information on "bible vigils" see "Organizing a Bible Vigil," by Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., in Worship, February, 4. 1960, pp. 144-48 and the article by the present writer, "Popular 4. Devotions--a New Look!" to be published soon in Homiletic and Pastoral Review. Examples of such vigils can also be found in Wor-ship, January and March, 1959; March, 1960; January, 1961. Tiuml~giving Day Serv~e VOLUME 20, 1961~ 407 RICHARD M. MCKEON, S.J. ' Human Relations in Religion ÷ ÷ ÷ Richard M. McKeon, $.J., is the director of the Institute for In-dustrial Relations at Le Moyne College, Syracuse $, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 408 The title of this article may seem strange to many. Cer-tainly a great deal has been written about the human factor as applied to the religious and the priestly life. But we wonder if there has ever been a systematic study of human relations in religion similar to the hundreds which are being made in the field of industry. Before me .is book, Human Relations in Management, numbering over 750 pages. Subject to correction, I doubt if there is a similar book concerning human relations in religious management. The following are some of the topics treated in the book: the human factor in industry, the philosophy management, conditions of effective leadership, motiva-tion and increased productivity, work group behavior, basic psychological factors in communication, the psy-chology of participation, dealing with resistance to change, empathy--management's greatest need. If great accent is being placed on human relations "as a systematic, develop-ing body of knowledge devoted to explaining the behavior of industrial man," should there not be a similar body knowledge based on the best findings of the behavioral sciences to explain the human relations factor.in religious and priests? The history of industrial relations shows how the human element was sorely neglected up to the start of the twenti-eth century. That was why in 1891 Leo XIII issued his famous encyclical letter On the Condition of the Working Class. Up to World War II there were some noted ad-vances in this field, as the Hawthorne Studies and the im-petus prompted by the passage of the National Labor Relations Act show. But from 1945 to the present the study and application of human relations in industry has been phenomenal. With these thoughts in mind I shall make comment on an article, "The Human Relations of a Foreman," pub-lished in the Monthly Letter of the Royal Bank of Canada for May, 1961. By applying some of the topics to the re-ligious and priestly life, the need for further exploration will be evident. "Why is the supply of men of supervisory capacity so thin?" Why have so many superiors in religion been lacking in the qualities which make for good administra-tion? Many answers will be given and I have listened to them for over forty years. Some will point out men who have been advanced with no worthwhile achievement behind them--merely because they were sources of no trouble. Is there also a chance that,administrative pro-motion in religion is connected with nepotism and cliques? It is true, of course, that the principles and rules of re-ligious life will sustain su~cient order in a community even under a poor administrator; the vow of obedience is the great foundation here. But in this article let us set aside the supernatural side and try to view human re-lations in the light of modern industry. Let us begin by remarking that just as a foreman in a factory needs "poise, wisdom, suppleness of mind, courage, and energy, besides the know-how of his technical special-ity," so also are these qualities to be hoped for in a su-perior. A superior is called upon to be an executive. Do the current methods of selecting a superior prove that he possesses executive talent for this or that particular position? Take, for instance, the priest who has charge of the ma-terial things in a seminary or a religious house where the teachers and students number one hundred or more, As far as shelter, food, and material services are concerned, such an institution is like a hotel. While custom, tradition, and discipline will keep things going, it is evident that such a priest would do a far better job if he had a course in hotel management. We all know the grand rush for our priests and religious to go on for higher studies in order that Catholic intellectual life be improved. This is to be commended. But is it not logical also to send those in charge of the ordinary living conditions of religious and priests to special studies to improve such conditions? Such training should result in better economical operation as well as in better living conditions. Have you ever tried to dry yourself with the moisture-proof towels found in certain communities? "Good human relations is people getting along well to-gether." It is not enough to rely on the religious or the priestly garb to command proper respect. Respect should b'e won by "intelligence, administrative competence, and the power to make men follow him~ because of personal attributes." All evidence of playing a policeman's role mnst be avoided. + + + Human Relations VO~-UME 20, 1961 409 4. o÷ R. M~ McKeon, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 Every religious and priest is a person; the superior must show a. sincere interest in each one; he must give him a sense of really belonging to the team--the institution under the superior's charge. The superior's chair must not be turned into a throne; around it there should be an atmosphere empty of fear but rich with sympathetic un-derstanding. "The best company to work for, and the company that gets the best work done, is the company with a strong company-group feeling." There are and will be divided religious communities; they are not pleasant places to live in.,How can such a situation be remedied? One answer is by superiors "who obtain the collaboration of people in their work-groups through loyalty and liking and coopera-tion." A superior will assign a subject a task; the subject will obey. But it is certain that the job will be better clone if the superior has excited enthusiasm, initiative, loyalty. "However.tall a man may stand in the hierarchy of management, he is not a successful executive unless he un-derstands the points of view and the problems of the rank and file of his workers." This statement is equally true of the religious superior. Unless his interest is sincere and sympathetic, subjects may do their work; but human na, ture being what it is, we wonder how good the work will be. ~A superior must prove himself superior; otherwise his authority is bound to suffer. It is necessary to strengthen that authority by personal performance and demonstrated ability, Good managers ask their workers for counsel and help. They know, that fine ideas are often buried in the mind waiting for the right tapping. The post-war growth of suggestion systems is proof that industry values the min'd of subordinates. It gives courteous hearing to such ideaS; it allows workers to take part in decisions. By such action workers feel that their jobs are important and that they share in responsibility. A few words abou~ discipline. In his own development, a manager should learn to obey. "But discipline is more than blind obedience. The word itself comes from ,the same root as the word 'disciple,' and a disciple is one who follows the teachings and the example of a respected leader." A good manager will have discipline because he is fair in the allotment of work and in the handling of grievances and because he inspires. He is not worried about "losing face" by appearing too human. In a crisis he will be forceful but friendly. The same things will be true of a good superior in reli-gion. Moreover, in his case there is the supreme examplel of Christ in His handling of His disciples to drive home many a lesson applicable to religious life. Christ con7 demned, sin; He had love and mercy for the sinner. "Probably foremost among the techniques of handling men is .the building of morale through praise and en-couragement. Commendation by a superior is of great consequence. It breeds loyalty and it inspires the worker to follow "through." Religious and priests are human and will remain so till their dying breath. Human nature likes encouragement especially when skies are dark. Religious and priests are also humble; when just praise from su-periors is lacking, they will console themselves by remem-bering the words of our Lord: ~'Even so you also, when you have done everything that was commanded you; say 'We are unprofitable,servants; we have done what it _was our du_ty to do.' " But praise justly won for doing one's duty weli means a. great deal in religious life. It does boost morale and it .strengthens self-confidence. It makes~a man willing to as-sume more difficult work. Moreover, when a superior gives credit to his community on the occasion of his in-stitution receiving public praise, he will build up initia-tive and a mutual sense of responsibility. I believe that the words of Peter F. Drucker, an. expert in management matters, should be applied to a religious superior. He writes: "Who is a manager can be defined only by a man's function and by the contribution he is expected to make. And the function which distinguishes the manager above all others is his educational one. The one contribution he is ~uniquely expected to make is'to give others vision and ability to perform:It is vision and moral responsibility that, in the last analysis, define the manager." In the previously mentioned textbook, Human R~la-tions in Management, over one hundred pages are de-voted to communication. I am willing to wager that no treatise on the religious life has a quarter amount of'this topic developed as it should be. If successful communica-tion is necessary for the functioning of industry, it should be equally, true for the religious life. Effective communication can build up a stronger com-munity spirit. How embarrassing it has been for religious and priests to be among lay people and hear, for ex-ample; that a new building will be built on the campus about which they have heard nothing. XVhen special work is assigned, it is,well for superiors to give the subject all information possible or refer him to one. who can help him. When information is passed through several superiors, measures should be'.taken to keep the original information intact. If the lower superiors are not able to explain clearly the.orders and policies of the "top brass," confusion will be more confounded among the rank and file. Communication is a two-way street. A good superior will listen to his subjects. Many have excellent brains + ÷ + Human Relations VOLUM.E 20, 196,1 ÷ ÷ 4. R. M. McKe~n~ $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 and are trained in special fields. To pose as all-knowing and not to recognize the interest and contribution of such subjects for the common good is a fatal error. As.I was writing this article, the new president of the college called a special meeting of the community to in-form them about plans for three proposed buildings and for the future development of the entire campus. Three members of the architect's firm spent over two hours ex-plaining intimate aspects of the plans and answering ques-tions. Then followed an informal discussion for another h6ur. As a result, the entire community has a greater in-terest. The president said very little outside of thanking the architects; but he was responsible for this excellent,job of communication. "Sound administration is the sum total of mature imagination, mature perception, mature judgment, and mature humanism." It is well to remember that maturity is not a matter of years of service but of mental develop-ment. It calls for self-discipline manifested by regularity in work habits, exactness in execution, and alertness; More-over "healthy self-criticism and continued willingness to learn are among the important attributes of the foreman" --and likewise for the religious superior. One purpose of this article is to call attention to the great number of books and magazines dealing with the human aspects of industry. In them will be found a wealth of material which can be applied to the religious and priestly life. It is also true that we of the Church, if prop-erly trained, can give to industry the constructive princi-ples of our Christian heritage: the Sermon on the Mount, for example; can be developed into a powerful treatise in industrial relations. What holds for leadership in industry is also true in religion. "Leadership means to initiate, to instruct, to guide, to take responsibility, to be out in front . The joy of leadership and the thrill of being in charge of a group of people does not consist in doing a terrific iob yourself, but in spending your last ounce of energy and encouragement to see the group crack through to success." There have been magnificent leaders in the priesthood and religious life as history testifies. But certainly the Church would make better progress in these critical times if our leaders were well vbrsed in human relations within their respective groups. If the development of human nature studies in industry can be of help to the Church, let us be humble and sincere in translating the best things into the priestly and religious life. SISTER MARTHA MARY, c.s.J. The, Wisdom of Praise Why is p?aise such a welcome sound in our ears? Is it be- Cause we are so egotistic or is it rather that we, as social beings, have such a deep need for the approval of others? St. Thomas remarks that dependence on others is typical of the rational creature. Security in the companionship of our family and associates is our first and most enduring need as a human being. No amount of food, entertain-ment, or suhshine will take th~ place of this ingredient of life. Every li¢ing person needs to know that he is loved and appreciated; and if such recognition is not forthcoming, life loses much of its meaning. He feels that he is'maimed in some interior and frightening way, for deep in his heart everyone agrees with the poet's words: "No man is an is-land." It is interesting to note that our Lord praised people without any hesitation. He praised the widow for her in-significant contribution in the, temple, Mary Magdalene for loving much, the centurion for his faith. What glow-ing words He had for St. John the Baptist, a supposed rivalI1 Sometimes He made these remarks in the presence of the person praised; sometimes not. What is important is that we know our Lord did communicate to others who were with Him the conviction that He appreciated them. He did it by words of praise in many recorded instances. True, He warned against flattery, but that was something quite different, the antithesis of praise--false praise. Jesus Christ was always the enemy of hyp.ocrisy; He was always on the side of truth because He is truth. The qnly true praise is truth. Thus flattery is ruled out from the start. How could it have any meaning when it has no basis in truth? Praise is based on real accomplishment or at least the capacity for ~ Lk 21 : 2-4; 7 : 44--~0; 7 : 9; 7 : 26-28. Sister Martha Mary, C.S.J., teaches religion and English at St. Jos-eph Academy, 1015 South Monroe Avenue, Green Bay; ,Wisconsin. VOLUME 20, 1961 41.~ 4. 4. Sister Martha Mar~ REVIEW ~:OR RELIGIOUS 414 this achievement; flattery is an appeal to another's vanity. Praise flows from principle; flattery comes from policy. Praise is genuine; flattery, is counterfeit. Yet, just as no one rejects all currency because he knows that counterfeit money is in circulation,, so no one would wisely reject all praise simply because flattery does exist. Praise is a great goo~ because it is the straightforward recognition of the cooperation of another with the grace of God. Every worthwhile deed a person accomplishes is brought to fruition under the grace of God without whom no one can do the ~lightest thing. This awareness of the good in others is made tangible by words of praise and by the pleasant relationship which these words set up. Praise be-comes the externalization of the empathy within the heart. It is a combination of joy, gladness, and great-heartedness. It is the visible expression of love and admiration. It is the positive keeping of the eighth commandment which is so closely connected with the great commandment. The Christian is so busy bearing true, glowing, enthusiastic witness to the neighbor that he chnnot bear false witness. To praise, then, is to be virtuous. But is praise not t~o be considered_ dangerous to hu-mility? Will it not be aft inducement to pride? Will it not draw us away from God and focus our attention on self? St. Thomas allays our fears on this point. He says that praise can be a very good thing, and this for several rea-sons. Rightfulpraise is iri reality the praise of God through whose power the good ~eeds have been performed. Sec-ondly, the praise of good may stimulate others to emulate these good acts. Finally, prhise is a means by which one can come to recognize good qualities in himself, the talents which God has entrusted to him. Once recognized, these talents can be developed and the person possessing them can thank God in all humility for the many gifts he has received. How could he be grateful if he did not know what God had given? Awareness brings gratitude. In these words, St. Thomas points out that praise is a means to an end; it i's not to be sought as an end in itself.2 God is the end, but praise is a very powerful stimulant to approach Him more quickly. The theological viewpoint receives strong support from psychologists who agree that vanity, conceit and other un-desirable qu.aliti~s flourish widely where recognitiofi is not given, for they serve as modes of self-defense when a per-son's sense of personal worth is or is thought .to be under attack. Humility flourishes best in an atmosphere of loving approval, and the normal means for making known this approval is praise. Regarding this, Sister Annette spoke at some length to religious superiors at the 1959 Institute of Spirituality: ¯ Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 132, a. 2. All that you have to do to demonstrate that there really is no incompatibility between humility and a sense of personal' worth is to work very hard and consistently for a while at giv-ing your Sisters a sense of personal worth. Show your appreci-ation, of ~hat they are. doifig. Give. them praise whenever, p.os-s~ ble . And you will see more evidences of genuine humility than you did before this principle of psychology was applied so assiduously in your hguse. You see, it is the secure S~ster, the Sister who feels that she counts for something with her superior and with her community, who can afford to be humble. She is not continually being called upon to defend herself . A sense of p.ersonal worth is not only ~ao detriment to the virtue of hu-mility but it is also a natural help to. the .acquisition of humility.8 Father Nuttin notes that individual, actions tend to be repeated in .proportion to the success achieved: ~Experimental data about the way human personality de-velops from past experience show that normal forms of be-havi'our and the dyndmic forces which lie behind them, tend,to develop according to the success achieved; that is to say, forms of behaviour which lead to a satisfactory result are maintained by theoorganism, whilst the kinds of behaviour~ that end in fail-ure or a comparatively unsatisfactory result are increasingly eliminated.' If such is the case, ignoring good actiom, or worse yet, condemning them, may be a p6sitive deterrent to the praiseworthy development of another; Whether we wish to be or not, we constitute someone else's env~ironment. Now the question can be asked: Who should praise? Theologians and psychologists agr~ee that"~ tO produce its most desirable effects, praise must be given'by those who matter to us. Father Lord, in perhaps his greatest pamph-let, In Praise of Praise, comments thus: I should be quick to praise and eager to approve those who are connected with me by blood and kinship. The nearer the re-lati. onship, the more spontaneous and generous should-be my praise. I should gladly praise those who in the slightest .way depend on me. Their dependence extends to a real need for a state-ment that I like them and their work. I should be quick to notice and point out the good work of associates. Assoctation can easily turn out to be less the'occasion for friendship than for rivalry. That is tragic. Men and women thrive under the approval of those who work at their side. I am wise if I.praise those who are or could be my rivals. I may be sure the praise given to them is not stolen from me. Indeed, if I were to play a calculating and selfish game, I can remember that when I praise a rival and speak well of work that parallels my own, I am displaying my own generosity of soul.8 ~ Sister Mary Annette, C.S.J., "Environmental Factors Conditioning Personal Development," in Proceedings oI the 1959 Sisters' Institute o] Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: Uni-versity of Notre Dame Press, 1960); pp. 105-06. ¯ ' Joseph Nuttin, Psychoanalysis and Personality (New.York: Sheed and Ward, 1953), p. 185. ~ Daniel A Lord, S.J., In Praise o[ Praise (St.Louis: Queen's Work, 1953), pp. 47-8. + ÷ + VOLUME "20, 1961 415 $ist~ Ma~tha Ma~y REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 416 It is a known fact that many persons in the United States, even religious, go to 'a psychiatrist to have selbconfidence restored. How has it been lost? Might not a steady diet of apreciation have helped to prevent such personality starv-ation? The duty to praise is far'reaching indeed. It includes family, superiors, associates, everyone--in varying degrees. But for those in a pgsition of authority, the duty is more pressing because the results are more telling. What about religious superiors? Where praise exists, there is a smooth-running, happy community. Where recognition is never given, the virtue of the subjects is tested to the extremes; duty is made very difficult. A much-lo~ed superior general used to say to her subjects: "Do this, Sister dear, with the grace of God and your own smartness." She made her subjects feel that the cooperation they gave to God was tremendous and that they were great persons. They left her presence feeling that they could conquer the world for Christ. Deep in their hearts they felt, too, that perhaps their cooperation had been somewhat defective in the past, but that such a thing would never happen again. Such attitude of mind is healthy. Just the opposite is the de-flation felt when one has been told how inconsequential" one,s achievements and capabilities are. There is no to de better, just a dead feeling that one's clay feet match the rest of one's anatomy. There is always', the danger too, that since religious regard superiors the special representatives of God in their lives, unguarded and thoughtless remarks may be taken very seriously. The commitment of a religious demands excellence performance because what is done for Christ should be' perfection itself. However, a superior who takes the ex-cellent performance of her subjects for granted, does not establish a happy community feeling. The mere fact she provides a well-balanced diet for them, comfortable sleeping quarters, and the proper medicine for them when~ they are sick, does not compensate for a lack of confidence' and trust. Sisters value such comments as: "You did that well, Sister"; "I heard Dr~ Jones comment on your "The talk you gave at assembly was splendid"; "That apple pie tasted just like my mother's." When~ such remarks are made, the small talk of religious becomes, big talk because it makes each member feel that she is necessary person in her religious family, Does this mean that the praise must be all on the side the superior? Should the subject praise the superior? Ob-viously, since praise which is true praise is merely aspect of 19ve, the subject ought to show her appreciationl! for her superior. Too often this manifestation of regard classified as "polishing the apple" or "getting a stand-Yet, in religious communities no one ever aoes anyt alone. Subjects must back their superiors, not just from a sense of duty but in a happy manifestation of esprit de corps. This is best done when appreciation is shown on both sides; therefore, subjects ought not to fear to tell their superiors that a job has beefi well done, that they ap-preciate kindnesses. On the whole, superiors receive less praise than they should. They need kind words to counter-balance the worry and responsibility they have to shoulder. Superiors do a better job when they feel the warmth of subjects' love and admiration. When is the best time to praise a person? Obviously there is no pat answer for this; still it seems that praise should be given as soon as possible after achievement as it is a powerful tonic for relieving the fatigue concomitant with difficult work. It should be given, also in the tedium of steady progress toward distant goals, and it should be given at the moment of failure when discouragement may overwhelm one. In fact, there is no time unsuitable for praise; yet, it is of least value when it is prefaced by un-kind remarks simply because there is little likelihood that it will be believed. Praise, then, we may conclude, is a powerful incentive to virtue when it comes from one who matters to us, when it concerns a good action in an aspect of life which is im-portant to us, and when it is rightly timed. Praise is pre-cious and abundantly at hand. Then why is there so little of it in circulation? Observation will furnish the answer. Praise cannot thrive where there is selfishness, thoughtless-ness, and jealousy, It does not spring from misinterpreted moral principles. Praise is choked in the worldliness of our product-conscious age. All our superlatives have been cheapened in advertisements of such things as cars, beer, patent medicine, soap, and toothpaste. The people who invented these things have usually never been heard of. It seems that only diseases are named for their discoverers. Since the product has taken precedence over the person, we praise the product and ignore the person who devised it. This subtle and damaging form of worldliness can not only creep into religious communities but even thrive un-der the protection of ill-applied moral principles. The extent of the damage which results is almost impossible to gauge. This is true because very few people in the world have enough self-confidence to compensate for not receiving it from others. In our age, most people, rather than tending to pride, seem to be on the opposite side. They tend to be too afraid, infantile, immature, or in a Thomistic sense, pusillanimous. We are more like the man in the parable of the talents who buried his one talent. It is an odd, Jansenistic notion, I suppose, that makes many of us afraid to encourage others for fear we will make them ÷ ÷ Prate VOLUME 201 1961 proud. This is least likely to happen in our age. Rather we seem to need true encouragement to help us along the way.~ The need that is most basic,to our spirit is the need to be loved. We cannot live normally without it, It is being loved by others that gives us our sense of personal worth. Why should we hesitate to let this love shine through our words? Granted that praise does good to others. Does it help the one who bestows it? Yes. Praise dilates the heart. It fills us with love. It makes us outgoing. It makes us want to live life, not just to undergo it. Hearts that sing with praise are far removed from the dry rot of egotism. St. Thomas in explaining why God demands our praise and worship for Himself, underlines the fact that we are the ones who are benefited~ not God. Praise opens us up to God so that we can make contact with the divine. An analogous thing happens when we praise our neighbor. We praise God when we praise what He has made. Thus true praise finds its beginning in the worship of God. °Charles A. Curran, "Some Basic Factors in the Formation of Feminine Character and Spirituality," in Proceedings o! the 1959 Sisters" Institute o[ Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1960), pp. 59-60. 4- Sister Martha Mary REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 418 FATHER AIDAN, C.P. The Examination of Conscience Cemeteries are not, I suppose, places to which we would willingly go to 'pass our time. It is true that the grave-zligger in Hamlet sang at his grave-making, but theh 'custom hath made it in hima property of easiness"; less frequent visitors find light-heartedness the least of their emotions. If the churchyard is well=kept, colorful, and dive with flowers; the contrast between what it looks like ~nd what it serves' as is themore marked; if on the other ,Land it is neglected and untended, theatmosphere of g'en;., eral mournfulness and melancholy befitting the place is dl the more enhanced. No doubt Gray's "Elegy" has done .nuch to contribute to this association of ideas, but the ,~ensive sadness he found in his churchyard is a feeling =ommon to nearly all. I wonder whether a religious about to make his examen ¯ f conscience ever finds himself oppressed by much the ame sensation. Here we are---daily invited to 'attend and :arefully inspect the tombs of our buried ~hopes, our luickly perished good resolutions, our infant virtues; to emember carefully all the ills and diseases that did them o swiftly to death, and thereby to guard more effectively ,gainst the future attacks which we know to be inevitable. 1~o return again and again to the scede of so many defeats, o behold repeatedly evidences of such .feeble efforts--it an be a depressing pilgrimage, so depressing that th6 de- ,otion essential to any pilgrimage quickly evaporates,and ve fall into a routine performance of a task which ought o be, must be, fulfilled: And: tlien, perhaps, our resolutions, like everything me-hanical, begin to wear down. We become less convinced ,f the utility of the practice;, after all, we know ourselves ~retty welt by flow, so wliavis the point of this cons'~ant elf-analysis? Our duties keep us busy, our day is a full ohm, ,nlooked-for circumstances rob us of our precioffs~ mo-aenis; they surely can not be squandered on so profitless ÷ ÷ ÷ Father Aidan, C.P., teaches English at. St. Gabriel's College, Blythe Hall, Orraskirk, Lancs., England. VOLUME 20, 1961 419 Father Aidan, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 420 and dispiriting an employment. It can well be treated more cursorily, shortened, even omitted altogether. We are amazed to read what great store has been set on the examen by spiritual writers-~quite reputable ones, too~ and we can only feel that they are given to pious exaggera-tion. Yet for all our specious reasoning, the examen is an es-sential feature in our spiritual life, Perhaps it is not merely our practice of it, but our attitude towards it that stands in need of re-orientation. Perhaps we should remember more firmly that it represents not a solo effort with our-selves as judge and jury, plaintiff and defendant, but a joint partnership between ourselves and Christ. After all, the dead we mourn in our own little cemetery were also once His. He is concerned about all those abortive efforts, those frustrated failures, those sadly neglected promises. The sorry wreckage we contemplate so ruefully is not merely the ruin of our own hopes; it is also the thwarting of His loving desires for us. If we remember His presence,~ His concern in what we do, then perhaps we shall not find it too heart-breaking or too strength-sapping a task. When we look out of a window at a view beyond, we, are really lo~king at two things. We see the window itself,I and through it we see the landscape. Our gaze, it is true,,, is focused on the view, and we are aware of the windowl only secondarily, in a vague sort of way. Further, the more magnificent and appealing the view, the less conscious we are ot~ the intervening glass. There is a certain analogy here with our examen. Our souls should be like clear glass, through Which can be seen the magnificent spectacle of God. Too often, however, that unclouded pane becomes speckled and spotted with dust and dirt, so that it steadily grows opaque. It is to removing the source of that dirt that our examen is directed, so that~ we may look beyond to the splendor of divine brightness, Obviously, to clean merely for the sake of cleaning, like a fussy house-proud housewife, is a soulless occupation. The window is cleaned so that it may be seen through-~ that the beholder may gaze in full enjoyment at the beauty beyond. And when we are once convinced that the view is really worth looking at, surely we labor more eagerly at the window cleaning. In other words, when we attend to keeping clean the window of our soul, we must have our gaze steadily focused on the sight of our Divine Lord beyond. We should not rest in a sterile contemplation of our own limitations-- that way lies discouragement--but should compare them, at once with the unlimited virtues in the Sacred Heart Of Christ. He can, and He will, help us to remove those limitations, if we sincerely will to allow Him to do it. The sincere will to let Him have His way--perhaps i.t, ~as been the lack of this that has made our examens in the past so tedious, so disheartening, so~ fruitless. So easy to allow a gush of self-pity to drown the good resolution; so easy to stand idle, paralyzed with dismay, at the revela-tion of our utter weakness; so e~igy to forget our Divine Partner in the examen, that "combined. operation" that is nothing less than the accomplishment, together with Him, af the redemption He has died to bring, us. This should be remembered even if our examen ,has lacked more than sincere good will, and has been only a perfunctory formality--a mere lip-service without any ,eart-searching.: A few pet imperfections hurriedly re-clewed, their number estimated vaguely if at all, some nechanical acts~of sorrbw and petition, and we rise hastily _o get on with the real business of the dayRsomething for which we can see some positiveresult and tangibl~.fruit Of :ffort. Never a substitute for sincerity; formality has, llere ~. fossilizing effect; every subsequent examen only serves _o add a further stratum in the soul and renders future ~clamation more and more remote. Yet if with us works Dne for whom no obstacle exists, save only in our own tardened wills, we can not doubt the outcome. ~ There can be no excuse of "parvity of matter"~in our .elf-analysis. We are never likely to run short of raw ma, erial.'Our vows, our duties, the virtues we should practice, ,ur attitude to and our contacts with our neighbor--all ,r0vide us with food enough for reflection, and after re, iection, action. If it seems otherwise, then we know with ertainty that we are deceiving ourselves. Five loaves and wo fishes seemed at first a scanty meal for a few men; yet, _~lessed by our Divine Lord, they provided ample nourish- ,-tent for five thousand--and still there were left twelve ~askets of fragments. If we complacently survey our soul :nd can see little therein to engage our attention for long, ;'e need the blessing of Christ upon our efforts to detect ,ur infidelities; then we shall be kept busy indeed. Our poverty, for instance--what can we check on there? .~o great breach, perhaps, but are there no ,lesser infideli-ies? A practical distrust of Providence, for example; else ;,hy do we so often hoard up so much for such~remote ontingencies? How about our spirit of detachment? Why 11 those knick-knacks and bric-a-brac that so drearily ollect the dust in our rooms? They would be at home no loubt in a drawing room, but in a religious cell?. "But, ,f course, I should willingly give them up if the superior sked me for them." And how likely is that? Superiors rave surely more sense than to ask their subjects for lbums-of photographs, tawdry little souvenirs, showy ittle gewgaws, or even that battered copy of the New I'estament, guarded so jealously since profession day-- or its sentimental value only. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ Or, as superiors, have we put purposes before persons; The purpose we have in mind, that is, before the .persons we should have in mind, those under us whom we are responsible to bring closer to Christ. Have we neglected to give them what we might have done well to give them, with the excuse that necessary retrenchments must be made in order to meet the expenses of some pet project of ours? Has there been an over-cautious pruning of certain preliminary expenses, which in the long run will impair the success of the complete scheme as a whole? We must be poor after the manner of Christ. The key: note of His way of living was simplicity. He did not create artificial needs; He did not hanker after what conduced' merely to comfort. He 'accepted what was given, when it was .given, and did not repine; He slept how, when, and Where He could, and was content; born in another man',, stable, He was buried in another man's tomb. All through His life, His indifference about means shines out: "Do no~ fret~ over your life"; "Be not solicitous, therefore.,' He showed practically His self-aband0nment to the provi: dential.care of His heavenly Father. Analysis of our practice of obedience is another useful mine of self-information. Perhaps our faith here has bei come imperceptibly weaker over the years; we are more conscious of the ,human limitations of the superior ~than we are of the fact that he represents Christ for us. (Yet suppose our Lord had seen the cross merely as a painful instrument of an ignominious death?) Would we not go freely and willingly to Christ to discuss our ideas, plans, suggestions-not trying to catch Him at an off-moment of distraction or when we know He is in a "good mood;!' or when we have paved the way for a successful issue b careless hints? Would we not abide by His decision, after discussion, He gave judgment against our petition~ so obviously to us the best for all concerned? If He were to order us tosome employment which we felt would only expose us to almost certain failure, with all its consequem mortification, we would surely not ~'twist and turn frenzied efforts at evasion. He needs our efforts to do Hi., work about as much :as the sun needs a candle to light thb world; but He does look 'for our good will. Or as superiors, remembering that the sole purpose ot the authority we hold from Christ is to bring those ~ndel us nearer to Him, have we really tried to understand sym pathetically the capabilities and limitations of those dis ciples of His? "Splendid isolation, may be all very well a~ a political slogan; it should be far from the mind of superior. The crown of thorns round the brow is probab!: inevitable; but no prickly thickets round the heart shouR render access difficult and even impossible. Man is, cording to Shakespeare, "dressed in a little brief autho~l ity," and should not play "such fantastic :tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep:" The donkey that bore our Lord into Jerusalem had his moment of triumph, felt the garments under his feet, saw the palm branches being waved as he passed, heard the hosannas and shouts of joy; but he would have been an ass indeed to assume that it was for him that the people were rejoicing. The manner in which we obey provides a wide field for examination. "Prompt, blind, and cheerful" is cer-tainly a high enough ideal. We need to ~be on our guard against any "delaying tactics" ("He may think better of it in a day or so") and against any disinclination to carry out what our own intelligence does not dommend. And if the Lord loves a cheerful giver, how much more is He pleased by. a hearty, willing obedience? Yet~how much disobedi-ence may be dignified by the name of manly self-assertion; and how often may pusillanimity usurp, the title of obedi-ence? We must obey as Christ obeyed. Had He not been obedient "unto death, even the death of the cross," we should not have been redeemed at all. He saw the will of His Father in everything that" befell Him, and "the things that are pleasing to Him.I' do always." Authority, even when vested in unworthy holders of office, whether malicious like Caiphas or weak like Pilate, always re-ceived from Him its due recognition, without servility or consideration of human motives. He knew that even such as these "would have no authority, unless it were given from above"; and since from above it.had been given, He submitted to itowith obedience and dignity. Yet even He, Son of God as He was, had to "learn obedience by the things He suffered." ¯ Our third vow, chastity, is perl~aps, best considered under its~ aspect of love, since serious failure here will not require examination, being self-evident. It is possible to allow our very pursuit of purity to blind us to its wider implications. If we. do not find in ourselves anything con-trary to our vow, we should thank God: "I could not other-wise be continent, except God gave. it." Yet are we in-tolerant and censorious of the peccadilloes of others? The "heart of iron for chastity" must not preclude the "heart of flesh for charity"; for "chastity-without charity shall be chained in hell." A mortal sin again~st charity.will kill the soul no less effectively than a mortal sin against chas-tity. Purity means that we long to love only God and for His sake all others. If self-complacent purity should lead to bitter, wounding remarks and unkind lack of considera-tion, we are completely missing the end of the sacrifice entailed by the vow; we might well ask: "To what purpose was this waste?" Again, it is surely only an incomplete view to confine ÷ ÷, ÷ Ex~mi~tlon o Comci~nce VOLUME 20, 1961 423 ÷ ÷ ÷ our warfare against "the flesh" to sexual temptations alone, Perhaps we may not indeed have offended here; but if faith wanes dim, and love waxes cold, there is the danger of the law of compensation creeping upon us unawares. We may tend to grow self-indulgent in smaller matters: to prolong our sleep unnecessarily, to be fussy over what we have to eat and drink, to be fastidious and finical about what we are given to wear, to show a marked disinclina-tion for work that is boring, disturbs our ease, or does not suit us. Purity should not preoccupy us so much that freedom from its grosser infringements blinds us,to the necessity of mortifying our senses--also "the flesh"--our taste, touch, ease, vanity. Nor should our natural propensity for friendship lead us to exclusiveness or to the loss of the spirit of prayer. Our human affections must not be put down, but put straight; they must not be kept under, but kept under con-trol. Controlled affection can be made to serve Christ's purposes; uncontrolled, our inclinations court disaster. What of Christ? His love was not jealous, mean, or petty; but magnanimous, and universal in its sweep. He did not shrink from self-denial in showing His love; He did not fear running the risk of others failing Him, as others did, like Judas,, Pilate, and the unknown "rich young man." All-embracing in its scope (although He too had His "special friends": John, Martha, Mary), His love went out to beggar and well-to-do, Pharisee and publican, virtuous and vicious. He showed no antipathy, no con-tempt towards any one of His creatures; there was nothing forced or spurious about His love, which was the perfect flowering of the all-holy purity of the Man-God. Our examen is, after all, the mirror we hold up to na-ture; a poor weak human nature,.no doubt, but one that all the more on that.account needs the mirror to reflect faithfully all its deficiencies. If we undertake this work more sincerely, more generously, in partnership with Christ, perhaps we shall find what we thought to be stumbling-blocks transformed by Him into ~stepping stones. Our examen will no longer have the dismal charac-ter of a solitary.visit to a desolate cemetery, but the hopeful quality of a pilgrimage with a Friend eager to help us. We may still discover dry bones aplenty on the face of the plain, but if faithfully we do our part, even of them also it may be said "I will give you spirit and you shall live." ~ Father A/dan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS MARTIN A. STILLMOCK; C.SS.R. Two Century Masterpiece "Of all my spiritual works, I should call this' one the best." These are the words spoken by St. Alphdnsus Maria de Ligouri on July 24, 1760, about his book, The True S~ouse ol Jesus Christ. When we consider that of the ope hundred eleven books and pamphlets written by the saint sixty-four ar6 ascetical works, this statement commands attention. The book in question could hardly be given higher praise. To understand why St. Alphonstis made this' remarl~- able utterance, it will' be well to consider the background of this book. As a founder of a religi6us congregation of missionary priests, as a popular and skilled retreat ~aster, and later as a bishop, St. Alpho. nsus was deeply concerned that llis priests and all priests should be learned and holy. To help priests in the field of learning he wrote his famous Mm:al Theology. To help prie,sts in their spiritual life he wrote his well known Selva which treats of the dignity and duties of the priest. All Christians know that there is no salvation for the world except through Jesus Christ. Now the ordinary channel of the world's salvation is the priesthood whic.h Christ instituted. Hence it was that Alphonsus loved so much to preach to priests and seminarians. And hence also it was that he wrote for them. He knew that the sanctification of one priest could mean the saving of thousands of souls that perhaps otherwise would not be saved. Alphonsus know he could put weapons into the hands of priests: weapons of theological learning, sermon material, ~naterial for retreats, missions, novenas. He could give them food for spiritual thought by combing spiritual writers, especially the fathers of the Church, and presenting their writings and ideas in a popular and interesting way. He could point out to priests the road to sanctity and the ways and means to attain holiness. All these weapons as well as many more St. Alphonsus, following Catholic tra-dition, put into the hands of pastors and missionaries for converting the world to Jesus Christ. But to insure success, he thought it necessary to supplement these weapons by Martin A. Stillmock, C.Ss:R., is engaged in parish work at St. A1- phonsus Church, 1118 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 6, Mis-souri. ~OLUME 20, 1961 425 ÷ M. A. Stillmock, C.$s.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the prayers of all those who are consecrated to God by religious profession: In every day and age it has been difficult for people to understand the n~cessity and value of the contem-plative life. To mauy it seems a pious waste of time. The problem is that many of these people understand little or nothing of the communion of saints, even though they may believe in it as they profess in the Apostles' Creed. Consequently, they do not understand or even -begin to realize the value of intercessory prayer or suppli-cation. Why God created such an institution as the cloister and why He calls religious to lead lives of penance and pr.ayer is beyond them. But the saints understand the value of these" things; and Alphonsus, from long experience in working for the most. abandoned souls, realized fully how much priests and missionaries need the help of prayers for success in their priestly and missionary work. Whenever Alphonsus had a difficult mission before him, or when he knew strong resistance would be forthcoming from the great enemy of souls, he recommended himself to the prayers of ~:eligious who spend their lives in the presence of God. Alphonsus himself had founded an order of contem-pla'tive nuns, the Redemptoristines. For him they were the second branch of his apostolic congregation, the Redemptorists, While the missionaries were on the front battling [or souls whd were often deep in the clutches of the devil, these nuns raised their minds to "heave/i, like Moses on the mountain, and by 'their prayers and pen-ances obtained the victory. . It was thoughts such as these which impelled A1- phonsus to write The True'Spouse of Jesus Christ. In the volume he says to the religious souls for whom he is writing: You should be :useful to all, especially by yqur prayers. A!l the spouses of our Lord should be zealous for His honor. He Himself said to St. Teresa: "Now that you are My spouse, you must work with zeal for My glory." Indeed, if the souls so ~logely united to Jesus do not take His interests to heart, who will do so? Our Lord has promised to hear anyone who prays to Him. In your prayers, then, at your communions, during the visit to the Blessed Sacrament, recommend to God all poor sinners, infidels, heretics~ and those Who live without God. And Alphonsus goes.on to say: Our Lord Himself asks this of His. special servants. He said to a venerable nun one day: "Help me by your prayers to save souls"; and to St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi: "See, My daughter, how Christians are in the hands of the evil onel If My elect did not deliver them by their prayers, they would become the prey of that monster." This prompted the counsel which she gave to her religious: "My dear sisters, God has withdrawn, us from the world to save our own' souls, of course, but also that we may satisfy His mercy by interceding for sinners. We shall have to account for the loss of many souls if we neglect to recommend them to God." For this reason she never let an hour of the day go by without prayir[g /0r sinners. Another servant of our Lord did penance for forty years and applied it all to the salvation of souls in need of divine grace. Oh, how many sinners there are who owe their conversion not so much to the sermon of the preacher as to the prayers of some holy re-ligiousl It was revealed to a celebrated orator that the conversions apparently worked by him were not attributable to his elo-quence but to the prayers of the lay brother who sat at th~ foot of the pulpit. Pray then for sinners, and pray also for priests that they may work with true zeal for the salvation of souls. But if religious are to be powerful intercessors with our Lord, it can be only on condition that they be His true spouses. Therefore, just as he did for priests, A1- phonsus treats at length of the duties of religious women. While reading this book, weshould keep in mind that in the eighteenth century many abuses had crept into the cloister. The spirit-of the times breathed laxity, tepidity, and worldliness. A1phonsus was not one to use half meas-ures, and in many instances his language is strong. But his one big purpose is to preach holiness. He does this by pointing out what virtues should be specially practiced, and he prescribes, the means for wiping qut abuses. It may be thought that St. Alphonsus wrote Thk True Spouse solely for cloistered or contemplative nuns. He certainly had° thegn in :mind, but not exclusively. In his preface the saint himself tells us: This work, as appe.ars from the title, is intended particularly for nuns. However, only a small part of it is directed exclusively to them; the remainder, but especially what regards the ob-servance of the vows of religion, regular discipline, and the per-fection of the religious state, is equally suitedto religious of all congregations; and what regards the Christian virtues will be found highly useful even for seculars. What is to be found in The True Spouse? Practically every facet of the spiritual life is treated, The saint starts off his work by treating of the merits of virgins who have consecrated themselves to God. He goes on to state the advantages of the religious state and how religious should belong wholly to God. He speaks of the desire religious should have for perfection and then warns that imper-fect religious are exposed tb danger. The necessity of combating self love is treated. After treating of interior mortifications, the saint goes on to speak of exterior mortification of the appetite, of the senses of hearing and touch, and of the eyes. The book also contains a long treatise on poverty, its perfection, its degrees and practice, the detachment it involves from relatives and other persons. Closely allied to poverty is humility; the saint here discusses its ad-wmtages, the nature of humility of the intellect, heart, and will, and patience in bearifig contempt. ÷ ÷ ÷ Two Century Masterpiece VOLUME 20, 1961 4. M. d. Stillmo¢l¢, C.Ss.R. There is a beautiful chapter on fraternal charity, fol-lowed by one on patience, a virtue that leads to resig-nation to the will of God. Then follows a treatment of mental prayer, its necessity as well as its practice. From there the saint points out the importance and necessity of silence, solitude, and the presence of God. The topic of spiritual reading forms a chapter in itself. The True Spouse contains a long treatment on the frequentation of the sacraments of confession and com-munion. Under confession the saint has a consoling and practical treatise on scruples: what they are, how they are hurtful, their remedy and a practical application. Prayer and purity of intention form two more chapters. A work of this type would not be complete for St~ Alphonsus unless he devoted some space, to the Holy Mother of God. First, Alphonsus contends that no true servant of Mary can be lost; then he goes on to show who are to be considered true servants of Mary. Following the chapter on devotion to Mary is one on the love of Christ, the obligation of a religious to iove Him, and the means of acquiring this love. The saint concludes his work with particular admoni-tions for superiors, novice mistresses, and so on. In the last chapter he gives a rule of life for the religious who desires to become a saint. This includes the treatment of such things as the Divine Office, hearing of Mass, exami-nation of conscience, necessity of banishing melancholy, recreation. The True Spouse even has an appendix con-taining such considerations as a summary of the virtues which the religious who wishes to become a saint should practice, spiritual maxims for religious, and aspirations of love for Christ. Very few books written almost exclusively for religious women handle such a wide and practical range of treat-ment. As one German translator of The True Spouse observes: This book, written as it is with great fo~'ce and piety, contains the.q.uintessence of ascetic theology and is a practical ex-posmon of the virtues of the religious life. I have no hesitation in saying that the reader will find in it all that has been written by ancient and modern writers on the subject of spirituality. It sums up a multitude of books and gives all that the holy author has developed at greater length in other writings on the same matters. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 428 MARCEL MARCOTTE; S.J. Health and Holiness Father, it seems that for the majority of priests, a person suffering from neurosis is condemmed to stand in one spot marking time with no chance of advancing in the spiritual life. I take it that you are not of that opinion, and 1 am so glad. Your opinion confirms my own per-sonal experience and that ol others who have confided in me. When a person is unbalanced in some way, one at once thinks that there has been some frustration in the past of his emotional needs. In most cases this is true. But do not certain neuroses grow worse because of a conflict be-tween the profound need of God which we experience on the one hand and, on the other, the behavior we are led to persist in, sometimes, under the influence o[ the guidance we receive? It seems to me that the more aspir-ing and straightforward a soul is, the more woeful can be certain mistakes in spiritual direction. I think that there is a tendency among religious and priests to make too little of the needs of the soul. Spiritual writers teach clearly that in order to reach God, the soul must proceed by a series of purifications suited to its spiritual progress. But how many spiritual advisors grasp that when the time comes? They seem to think that this was written more for initiates in the spiritual life. But I think that such ideas could be carried over with great profit into many ordinary .lives. Don't you agree? IfI we sidestep debating certain merely incidental ele-ments in this letter so as to throw into relief its main point, the question it asks can be put thus: Does our sanctification depend on our psychological balance as well as, in some degree, on our bodily health and the sound condition of our nerves? Pascal, who was all his life a _very sick and anxiety-haunted man, declared that "ill, ness impairs the judgement and the senses . " "If great 1:This article is translated with permission from Relations, March, . 1961, pp. 64-66. The translation is by George Courtright. 4. 4. 4. Marcel Marcotte, S.J., teaches at the ColI~ge Sainte Marie, 1180 rue Bleury, Montreal 2, Canada. VOLUME 20, 1961 Mar~e! Mav¢otte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 430 illness," he says plainly, "visibly alters them, I have no doubt at all that minor illnesses have a proportionate fect." This opinion, dictated by the personal experience of a man of genius who was, also, in his own way, a kind of saint, ought doubtless to be kept in mind. How-ever, recent discoverie~ in psychology together with the teaching of experience and certain data of theology lead us to qualify it. Does our relationship with God really depend upon our physical and psychological formation, which, while in us, is, for all that, not us? Are we to be marked in ad-vance for sanctity or for spiritual mediocrity by reason of our temperament, i the condition of our endocrine glands, certain accidents of education, or traumas ex-perienced in the course of life which definitively open or close to us the approaches"to Christian perfect~ion? "The will of God," says St.Paul, "is ,that' you become saints." But is this divine will concerned only with people who have perfectly healthy and well-balanced bodies and minds? Does sanctity reser~b!e some sort of royal feast to which only a small number of chosen guests--great lords and noble ladies with impressive names--are to be in-vited, while the great mass of the faithful must be satis-fied with the crumbs of the banquet? This would be .a surprising and rather scandalous thing. God, in His giving, remains free, but when once He has granted, in baptism, the first, essential gift ("if you knew the gift of Godl" Jesus said to the Samaritan woman), then that spring of living water, which has just penetrated by grac~ into the Christian soul, must inexhaustibly "gush from his breast into eternal life." For the gift of God is nothing else but God Himself, from whom life pours out, diffuses itself, and irresistibly increases in the Christian so as to make him achieve his full height, his complete stature in Christ. S~ill, we must yield to the evidence: Not all Christians are saints--far from it--for indeed if God's gift is to produce its fruit of sanctity in the soul, the Christian must cooperate freely with the ~ace that is offered him. But the usual effects of original sin make this free co-operation very difficult for the normal Christian. Besides this, in many instances, the exercise of freedom is en-cumbered by" special difficulties which render infinitely more unpredictable the conformity of our acts in life to moral standards and the higher dem~inds of sanctity. "It is hard to practice Christian virtue," Alexis Carrel says, "when one suffers from a glandular deficiency." Edu-cators, judges,-moralists, and spiritual directors realize today how important a role the body plays in the origin and development of certain 'kinds of moral, social, and spiritual weaknesses. Chrtesian dualism no longer has currency; we have learned to, recognize ;and admit the. reciprocal influence of the body and the soul~ on .the physical and mental health of human beings. Psycho-somatic medicine, for its 'part, is ready to take into ac-count complications on the physical and bodily level arising from the psychic; why should not .Catholic moral-ity and spiritual teaching,, in turn, take into account the, repercussion of sick organs and nerves upon the interior, psychic life? "Man," says Pascal again, '~is neither angel nor beast, and ill luck would have it that he who would play the angel plays the beast."-" Furthermore, physical health: is not alohe concerned here. Depth psychology has shown (doubtless to the. point;, of sa.t.iety) that the evolution of a religious and moral personality, is linked to the dynhmic'drives of ifiapulses and tendencies of instinct, and emotion which we carry along with us from earliest infancy to adult life. Ac-cording as the liquidation of ce.rtain psychi~ conflicts has been more or less successful, habit~ and moral or spirit-ual attitudes assume very different characters. In certain instances, repression and sublimation will facilitate ,the practice of virtue and thai.pursuit'of sanctity; in others, they will make virtue and holiness, at least in appearance, very difficult or even altogether impossible. Therefore, in the quest for God, the-Christian must not only adapt himself to his nature as he finds it, but, in ad-dition, undergo to a degree very difficult to estimate the inbuilt necessities springing from the past. Why seek to deny it? There are ill-favored creatures who, so far from being naturally equipped to live a truly spiritual life, are not even fit to live a life in accordance with common morality. They will never be so thoroughly good as they might otherwise be simply for lack of discipline and con-tr61 aiid will drag along through weakness after weakness t6'~the end of their lives. Their sense of judgement is warped, their wills debilitated: how can they aspire to personal holiness? Yet, is sanctification to be made de-pendent on the chance that on~ has or has not a healthy hormone balance, or that one is blest in one's psycho-logical makeup or has been guccessfully educated? Some-times, it takes so little (a thyroid'deficiency, the awkward or rough meddling of a teacher) to change the course of one's life. "If Cleopatra's nose had been shorter . " Is the longing of a Christian for sanctity to be similarly sub-ject to accident, to that "grain of sand in the ureter" which, according to Pascal, upset the, Whole map of Europe? To avoid so scandalous a notion, we must first take care to have a right idea of the meaning of sanctification. We must not'confuse it with the attainment of purely human perfection or even~ with the moral perfection Health and Holiness VOLUME 201 1961 43! ÷ ÷ ÷ Marcel Marcotte, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 432 which makes saints so attractive. In essence, sanctification is the act by which God divinizes man. This action occurs in the spiritual order, an order the harmonies of which are not necessarily echoed in the outward behavior and visible appearance of the man God has sanctified. In re-lation to this action, one's psychological makeup is of no importance. Whether a man be endowed with a nature favorable to the acquiring of virtue or is a neurotic ob-sessed by the flesh or by guilt or scruples, it is enough for him to say "Yes" to God, to cling to Him in his soul of souls, beyond all temptation, all childish fear, in order to be swathed in divine grace and himself made divine. On this point, Saint Francis de Sales says: It is beyond question true that our souls ordinarily take on something of the traits and tone of our bodily lower nature . A body weakened and distracted by much pain cannot but in-hibit the vigor and spontaneity of the soul in its performances. But nothing of this is in anyway prejudicial to the spiritual actions of the soul. As pleasing to God as such actions can be when done among all tlie pleasures of the world, they are even more so when done with greater trouble and pain . We must not be unjust to ourselves and demand more of our-selves than we can do. When our bodies and our health give us trouble, we must, at such a time, expect of the soul only acts of submission and resignation and that holy union of ou~' wills with the good pleasure of God, which is formed in the highest reaches of the soul. As for our outward actions, we must direct and perform them as best we can and be conr tent therewith, though our hearts mislike it and the going be slow and heavy. Nevertheless, the fac( remains that sanctity, in the usual sense of the word, requires certain conditions, which are not given to everyone. For example, an idiot finds himself, as such, incapable of that renunciation of sin and of that assent to grace which are essential ,in the spiritual life. Just as a certain healthiness of the nervous system is needed before the moral consciousness can un-fold, So, too, in the order of sanctity, a certain psychologi-cal healthiness is necessary before that love, thanks to which one renounces sin in order to give oneself utterly to God, can unfold. In what does this healthiness consist, without which sanctity becomes impossible~not that sanctity which exists in the hidden mystery, of the sou! but the sanctity we find in the faces, in the words and the actions of those whom we call saints? There are certain characteristics, certain somatic and psychological qualifications which are necessary so that the fruit Of divine grace .may grow and show itself in the form of Christian virtues: for ex-ample, mildness, temperance, purity, brotherly love. If there are serious deficiencies in one's makeup, the soul will struggle vainly to remain faithful; all its efforts, at least in appearance, will remain useless. True, in the eyes of God, "who searches the reins and the heart," all these struggles, endlessly abandoned and endlessly lost, will have contributed to the sanctification of the soul. But for the bystander, and often for the soul itself, hypnotized by its own weakness, this mystei~ious but real sanctifica-tion will never be verified. It will not even be verifiable. It may even happen that priests and experienced spiritual directors will fail to recognize the value and the merit of these hard-fought spiritual battles which always end in a checkmate. But such a lack of understanding--wit-ness the lives of the saints---often forms a part of the means God uses for the spiritual progress of souls. It is a kind of night added to that night in which souls struggle only to make the darkness darker and faith more meri-torious. Yet, the darker the night, the nearer, the more lovely the stars. "Close your eyes, and you will seel ." God has a way all His own of dealing with the emptiness surrounding the soul. It is at the moment when He ap-pears to be forevermore far away that He is often closest. "If you had already found Me," God says to Pascal, "you would not look for Me." The important thing, then, is the search for God, the effort, as the accepted phrase is, toward sanctity while trying evermore in one's life to accept the divine will, even when that will rules that we make our way toward God stumblingly, foundering in the earth like plough-oxen, we who were made to fly high in the heavens like eagles. There are two kinds of saints, says Father Beirnaert. There are the saints with ill-favored and difficult personalities, that mass of people ridden with anxiety, aggressiveness, and love of the body, all those who bear the intolerable weight of having been born as they were, those whose blighted hearts will al-ways be nothing but a knot of snakes, unlucky because they were born with repulsive faces, or because they have never been able to identify themselves with a father. They are those who, unlike St. Francis, will never in their lives charm a bird or pet a wolf of Gubbio; those who sin and will sin again; who will grieve till the day they die, not because they lost their temper a little but because they keep on committing the same filthy, unmentionable action. They are that vast crowd whose sanctity will never shine out in this world through their personalities, who will rise up only on the last day to glitter, finally, in eternity. They are saints without the honor of the name. At their side are the saints blest with attractive personalities, the pure, strong, sweet saints, the model saints, the canonized saints and the saints fit to be canonized, saints with hearts as free and wide as the seasho~'e; saints whose being, like a per-fectly tuned harp, forever sings out the glory of God; wonderful saints, who encourage the advances of grace and in whom we touch a grace-transfigured nature--the recognized, the cele-brated, the great saints, who trail a shining splendor through history. Both kinds of saints are brothers. Those saints whose per- 4- 4- 4- l;ealth and Holiness VOLUME 20, 1961 sonalities are haunted by m'onsters and those in whom angels dwell have the same basic experience, and they speak Of God and of themselves in the same words. They are of the same bourn, the same world; a world where the only grief is to find oneseff so unworthy of God, and the only happinesg is to be loved by Him and to try to give Him love for love. For us, here below, they are different. Before God, they are alike. And we shall see this in the day of the Lord Jesus (Etudes, t. 266, pp. 63-64). Once more, pure holiness can and sometimes must adapt itself to certain bodily and psychological states which will give their stamp to the outward aspect and ac, tions of a Christian, without, for all that, compromising his inner adherence to the divine will and, therefore, without hurting the life of charity in him. "In the evening of'life," says St. John of the Cross, "we shall be judged~on our love." For each and all of us, it is simply a question of love and, therefore, of choosing, according to the meas-ure of freedom that has been given us, between good and bad, between the perfect and the imperfect. In propor-tion to this, God Himself comes to meet us so as to share His life more intimately with us, before finally, bringing us into His beatitude. ÷ ÷ .÷ Marcel Marcotte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 434 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M., ' ' The ,Superior's Predept and God S Will One of the first pro~ositions a.tyro meets in a religious novitiate ,is one to the~effect that a '~superior's directive is "an expression of God's wilV' for .him': If'a religious wishes to know what God' desires of him,~ he need only listen to;accept, and execute the~precepts of his superior. Unfortunately, this early lesson'-'is subject to ambiguity and confusion. And more unfortunately, it can happen that the novice may embrace for life an incorrect interpre-tation of the~,ambiguity or he may simply, practice reli-gious obedience in a pekdffring cloud ofmisunderstand-ing. Does a superior "manifest,God's will" to a subject? If. he does, what does the expression mean? If he does not, ought we to modify our instruction°on this facet of obe-dience? Before attempting an immediate answer to" these, ques-tions, I should like to ask the reader to consider'a philo-sophical and theological antecedent; namely, the problem of how a man can conform his will to the divine will. A conference or retreat master ,can easily advise his listeners to conform their wills to the will of God, but to what ex-tent this conformity is possible and how itls to be achieved is not at all so simple as might appear on the surface. And-, yet a mature and accurate understanding of religious obe-dience would seem to require that we delve beneath the surface and discover~ what-precisely~ we are doing when we obey. For the attainment of this understanding we can follow no better guide than St. Thomas Aquinas. To tinderstand the Angelic Doctbr's doctrine on the precise °fiaanner in which a man is bound to conform his will to the divine will, we must, as Thomas does, dis-tinguish betweeh what may be called a material and a formal conformity.1 In an act of willifig we notice that there are two elements involved: the thing willed and the 1 Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10~, c. ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M., is spiritual director at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay,. S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 436 motive for willing it. Willing an act of kindness, for ex-ample, implies first of all, the sundry components of the benign deed, and, secondly, the motive or reason for willing that deed. The activity willed (here, the kind deed) is called the material element, while the motive or the reason~why (for example, love for God) is the formal element. It can happen that even when they will opposite real-ities two created wills can be good provided their- motives are good. St. Thomas uses the example of ttie execution of a thief. The judge wills his death, whereas the thief's wife does not will it. The wills are opposed as regards the material element, the fact of the executiori; but they can both be good provided the judge wills the death for a good reason (thecommon welfare) and the wife opposes that death for some evil consequent on it (for example, harm to her family). Because the judge has care for a more universal good, the community, and the wife for a less universal one, her family, both can will opposites and yet be good as long as their reasons are worthy. The° reader will understand that we .are not suggesting that any action at all may become morally good merely by the presence of a good motive. A man may not stem five dollars in order to buy his wife an anniversary gift. We are simply stating that two wills can at times be opposed regarding one action and yet both be willing rightly. We are now in a position to apply this principle to our problem of conformity to God's will. As St. Thomas points out, God as the Maker and Governor of the whole universe knows and wills .whatever He wills under the aspect of the universal good, which is His very goodness. A created will, on the other hand, knows some particular good and sometimes wills it for some reason that is good on a particular scale but not good from the point of view of, the more universal. For example, the avoidance of a spanking is a good from the particular or limited aspect of a child's physical well being, but itsoadministration may be better from the universal and wider aspect of his whole welfare and that of the family. In orde~ for a man to Will well some particular good he must refer it somehow, to the universal good; that is, to God. This referral, this motivation to the last end is the formal element in willing and must be present in a volitional act in order for that act to be rightly ordered. A man, therefore, conforms0his will to the divine will when he refers all that he does to God, since God Himself refers all to His own glory. This is a formal conformity and must always be present in a human act. A man, how-ever, need not and cannot always materially conform his will to the divine will as regards particular acts. It is sufficient that those particular acts be good in themselves and be referred to God, for in so acting man is operating as God wants him to operate~ even though God may not actually will this or that particular act. Hence, a material conformity to the divine will is ,not always required or even possible. Why do we say that a material Conformity to God's will is not always required or even possible? The reason is simple~ We often do not know what God wills as re-gards particular acts. We surely know that He wills us to do all for His sake, but that is a formal conformity, the ordering of all to Him. On.the other hand,.we~frequently do not know whether He .prefers.us to do on~ thing rather than another. I know He wants me'to tell-the truth when I am rightly questioned, but I do not know with certitude whether in ten minutes I should still be writing or visit-ing the BlesSed Sacrament. I know He wants me to obey canon law and my religious rule/but I may not know whe!her He really desires that I make~ tfii.s or that ex-cepaon to them. What ought I to do in these cases? I shbuld use my reason, follow the principles~of.sound ~asceticai theolggy, and exercise the virtue of supernatural prudence. God undoubtedly wiils that I do these latter, but the fact re-mains that once I have made my decision there may or may~ not be a material confOrmity between my will and His. Such,' however, is quite a Satisfactory situation pro-vided that what I do is good and is ordered to Him. In other words, material .conformity may' be lacking, but formal conformity may not. , ~pp!ication to Religious Obediencei: Can we, then, say that a religious Superior manifests tile will of God when he gives' a directive to his subjects? Surely, if the superior merely reiterates a precept of the natural or divine laws, he is indicating the divine will, but he is hardly manifesting it. ,That will is usually al-ready manifested to the subject, 'remotely by human tea, son or supernatural revelation, and proximately by in-struction he has received. As regards other matters (and they are commonly practical on~s) the superior cannot be said tO manifest the divine intention for the obvious rea-son that he does not know what the divine intention' is. If Father Superior tells Father Jones to suspend convert instruction classes during the summer, he is not neces, sarily manifesting God's will to Father Jones. Short of a private revelation Father Superior cannot know with certitude whether God really desires that suspension or not. All he can °do is.Use his experience, reason, and supernatural prudence in coming to a,decision and then hope he is doing what God wants. When Mother Pro-vincial assigns Sister Alice to teaching rather than to ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 437 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS nursing, Mother is not necessarily declaring the divine mind, because God may actually know that Sister Alice is better fitted to be a'nurse. I would say, then, that, simply speakin.g, a religious superior does not manifest God's will when he issues a command. In an improper sense, however, the superior may be said to manifest God's willAn his precept insofar as God wishes the subject to carry~ out what His representative has commanded. While it is true-that the fulfillment of this command is willed by God, yet the command itself does not properly manifest'anything but the superior's intention. I think it would be re.ore correct to say that by his precept a superior gives his subject the opportunity to do God's will, that is, to obey. It would seem wise, therefore, not to use this.expr~ession in an improper sense because it is misleading and confusi.ng. There-is no mani-festation of what we may call the content of God's will. By his obedience, then,, a religious conforms his will formally to the divine will when he orders his obedience to the divine glory through the virtue of charity. There is, secondly, a material conformity insofar as God wills this precept to, be carried out. There may or may not be, thirdly, a material conformity as regards the content of the precept. The reader will notice that our whole position on the superior's inability to manifest with certitude the con-tent of the ~livine will rests on his ignorance of that will. Hgw can~we establish that ignorance? Really, it needs no establishing because it is obvious on a moment's" reflec-tion. St. Thomas himself saw no difficulty about the matter. "Although we cai~not know a proper end, we can know the ultimate end from whom issues all the goodness found in proximate ends, so t.hat we may direct all we do to God, who made all things for Himself."z "The just on earth, whose will clings to the divine goodness, and yet do not so perfectly contemplate it (as the blessed do) that they clearly see the ordering ofoevery actiop to it, are conformed to the divine will as regards thos_e things whose character th~ey perceive . ,,s The Saint's last remark is most clear: "In particulars we do not know what God wills, and a~s regards.these we are not bound to conform our will to the divine will.''4 ~ St. Thomas readily admits our ignorance of the divine will in many details of human life, the proximate ends as he calls them. We need. only apply his thought to reli-gious obedience and _we have the basis on which our above explanation rests. But can a superior because of his sharing in the divine 1 Sententiae, d. 48, q. l, a. 3, ad 6; see also article 4. De veritate, q. 23, a. 8, c. Summa thkologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10, ad I. ruling authority somehow claim to set forth what we have called the content of the divine will? I think not. No man, be he superior, equal, or inferior, can rightly claim to manifest the mind of God unless God in some way re-veals His mind and ratifies, the claim. God's mind is God and~He is unsearchable. Hence, if a mere man may be said to make known God's mind or His will, that man must have some divine-assurance that such is the case. Does the religious superior have this assurance when he directs his subordinates in the observance of their vows and constitutions? The teaching Church, the Roman~ Pontiff and the bishops in union with him, certainly enjoy this assurance when they intend tobind in their authentic teaching (See Mt 16: 16"19; 18: 18; Lk 10: 16; Jn 20:21).~But does a re-ligious superior as such share in these divine commissions in any way that would permit him to claim that he, too, reflects the .divine will in 'his decisions? We ~may note, first of all, that on the one hand a religious superior, qua : talis, does not possess any special teaching authority in : the Church. On the other, Plus XII made it clear that the i ruling power of ~'eligious superiors is,;a participation in the divinely received ruling power of the Supreme Pontiff ~ himself. Speaking to.the superiors general of orders and .~ to other religious superiors, the Holy Father remarked -" thgt "you have been appointed tO a certain participation " in Our apostolic office," and then enlarged his thought: "Thus in this,.part of Our office, most beloved sons, delegating to you some of Our supreme jurisdiction, either directly by the code of canon law or by your insti-tutes and their rules approved by Us, and setting the foundations of your power which is called 'dominative,' We have assumed you as sharers in Our supreme office. Hence, it is that We are .very much concerned that you exercise your authority according to Our mind and that of the Church.'5 Does this participation in the apostolic governing power give a religious superior some capability to manifest God's will? To answer this last question we must distinguish be tween a mere ruling power and a teaching pbwer. Even the Church herself~, does not claim infallibility in as, pects of her universal laws unconnected with doctrine, and therefore, she does not claim in them to bg represent-ing what we have been terming the content of the divine mind. In setting twenty-four years as the minimum age for the reception of the priesthood even the Holy See would not'claim that it knows the content of the divine mind on that question. While God may conceivably prefer some other age limitation, yet it is His will that 6 Translated from L'osservatore romano, February 12, 1958, p. I. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior'$ Precepg VOLUME 20, 1961 439 ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 440 bishops obey the Church's actual determination of twenty-four years. If the hierarchy itself, divinely endowed with a right to govern men to eternal life, cannot at times be sure that its laws express exactly the divine preference, it can come as a surprise to no one that we deny any such certainly to a religious superior who merely participates in the Church's ruling authority on a delegated basis. When a provincial superior of religious men appoints a priest to the mission band or when a local superior of religious women directs a sister to wax the floors on Saturday morning, it is not objectively sure that the priest is best suited for mission work or that the sister ought not rather be doing background reading in her teaching field. Yet it remains true that both the priest and the sister may be sure that God wills them to give missions and wax the floors respectively. While the two superiors may not6 have manifested the content'of the divine will, both of them have issued directives that God, as a matter of fact, wants implemented by two religious who have received two specific precepts. Even though the religious superior does rule through a participation in a divinely-given governing authority, he has nonetheless received no divine assurance that his commands are always going to conform to the objective truth of things. The subject, then, sees God in his supe-rior not in the sense that the superior's word must be taken as God's own word, but only in the sense that the superior's command is .given by one who has God's authority to give it. The distinction is important. On the one hand it obviates the untenable conclusion that a re-ligious superior is immune from error in his decisions as superior, and on the other it preserves the necessary postulate that a superior's precept is given on no mere human basis. In view of what we have said one could hardly miss the conclusion that a religious superior ought to weigh carefully the directives he gives. Even though it would be unreasonable to expect him to be objectively right in each of his decisions, yet he should make every effort consonant with the gravity of the matter.to be objectively right. Because he rules with a divinely authorized delega-tion, he should take care that his directives be as closely in accord with the divine intentions as possible. Reli-gious government by whim, directives issued by worldly prudence, commands based on favoritism, prejudice, or misinformation are wholly unbecoming in men and women who rule in such wise that their precepts some-e Our use of the word "may" indicates naturally enough that the two superiors may, as a matter of fact, be indicating the content of the divine will. "May not" suggests also "may." how flow from a divine authorizati+n. Traits of the good superior, then, most assuredly include supernatural pru-dence, a personal selflessness, and a willingness to take and follow counsel. We must note correlatively~that what we have said in this article does not absolve a subject from a perfect obedience to his superior. The fact that God may not "agree" that the decision contained in a particular com-mand is the wisest of all choices does not mean that the subject does well in refusing an obedience of execution, will, and intellect (the last, insofar as it is possible). In other words, our discussion is meant to clarify, not to damage the perfection of our obedience. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 44! R. F. SMITH, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S.], REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS In this article those documents will be summarized wliich appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis during June and July, 1961. All page references in the article will be to the 1961 Acta (v. 53). A New Encyclical On May 15, 1961 (pp. 401-64), Pope John XXIII is-sued a new encyclical, Mater et Magistra (Mother and Teacher), to commemorate the seventieth anniversary of Pope Leo XIII's encyclical on social matters, Rerum Novarum. In the introduction to his encyclical, the Pope observed that just as Christ, though primarily interested in the spiritual welfare of men, was also concerned with their material welfare, so also the Church takes care of the spiritual good of men without neglecting their ma-terial, economic, and cultural needs. Passing to the first of the four parts into which the encyclical is divided, His Holiness sketched the evils of the economic and social situation of the nineteenth cen-tury, evils which occasioned Rerum Novarum. The Holy Father then listed the chief principles of Catholic social doctrine as laid down by Leo XIII and as afterwards en-larged and amplified by Pius XI and Pius XII. In the second part of Mater et Magistra, the Vicar of Christ took up and developed certain points of the teach-ing found in Leo XIII's document. While the economic order/ he pointed out, is the. creation of the personal initiative of private citizens, still the State must see to it that economic development benefits all the citizens. This, however, must be done in accordance with the principle of subsidiarity enunciated by Pius XI in Quadragesimo Anno, a principle which protects the personal initiative of individual persons. In this connection the Pontiff con-sidered the matter of modern economic and social plan-ning which involves public authorities in matters as crucial as the care of health or the controlling of pro-fessional careers: Such planning, he remarked, brings many advantages and satisfies many personal rights;, how-ever, it also makes juridical control of hurfian relations more detailed and creates an atmosphere which makes initiative and responsibility difficult. Hence, such plan-ning should be realized in such a way as to draw from it all its advantages and to remove or restrain its disadvan-tages. ¯ .," Pope John then turned to consider the question of "the remuneration to be given to workers. ~AI1 workers, he af-firmed, should be given a wage that:allows them to live a truly human, life and to face with dignity their family responsibilities. Other factors;~.however; must alsb be considered: the worker's effective contribution to produc-tion, the economic state of the enterprise, ~he require-ments of the common good,both of the country and of the entire world~ " The economic'wealth of a people,., the Pontiff went on to say, must not be judged merely.by, its total aggregate wealth, bht also by its efficacious distributidn~throughout the entire populace. One of the most desirable ways of achieving this distribution~ is to permit th~ w6~kers to participate in the ownership of the enterprise. One last necessity for a just economic system was,underscored by the P6pe'when he obseiwe6that~if the structure of an economic system is suEh~that it compromises human dig-nity by systeinatically removing a" sense of-responsibility and of initiative in the 'worker, then .the system is un-just, even though through it riches are accumulated and distributed according to the rules of justice and equity. Hence the continuing importance today of artisan and co-operative enterprises. And in large enterprises, workers should have an active part, the enterprise becoming a real community with relations between employer and employee marked by mutual appreciation, understand-ing, and co-operation and by a mutual,grasp, of,:th~ en-terprise not,merely as a source of income but,,as the ful-fillment of a duty and°the rendering of a service.:~Workers, he.said, should not be reduced to being merely execu'tors of work, entirely passive in regard to decisions that regu-late their activity. Here the Pope stressed the desirability of associations of workers and the need that the influence of workers'should be extended beyond the limits of~their individual productive units. The Holy Father turned next to the matter of. private property, observing that the modern growth of the dis-~- tinction between the ownership of capital and the man: agement of the larger economic entities, the increase of social insurance and security, and the greater confidence in income and rights from, labor,rather'than from capital ÷ ÷ ÷ Roman, Documen~ VOLUME ;'0, ÷ ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 444 do not diminish the natural right of private ownership. This right, he said, is fouflded on the priority of individ-ual human beings as compared with society,,is necessary for free and personal initiative in the economic field, and prevents the stifling of freedom. Not only must the right to private property be recognized; equally neces-sary is the recognition of the natural right of its effective distribution among all social classes; added to this must be the acknowledgement that a social function is intrinsi-call~ linked with the right, of private property, for the goods of the earth have been destined by God for the worthy support of. all human beings. In the third part of the encyclical, Pope John took up a consideration of new socio-economic problems that face the modern world. First among these is the extensive exo-dus of farm populations to urban centers. While many reasons lie behind this exodus, the Pope pointed out that among these reasons is the fact that the farm sector lags behind other sectors, in productivity of labor and in living standards. Hence public authorities should see that essential services (education, roads, utilities, and so forth) in the country are suitably developed. Improved produc-tion methods and selective agriculture should be encour-aged. In the assessment of taxes, it should be remembered that in ,farming returns come slowly and are exposed to greater risks; the same considerations should lead to a special credit policy for farmers. Social security and in-surance systems should not give farmers allowances sub-stantially lower than those granted to industrial and other' sectors; there should be an effective system to protect farm prices. At the same time, rural workers should keep in mind the rights and interests of other types of workers as well as those of the common good. They should con-ceive their work both as a vocation and as a mission, as a call ~from God and as a contribution to human civili-zation, The Holy Father next took up the matter of relations between developed and underdeveloped countries. Hu-man solidarity as. well as the doctrine of the Mystical Body forbids that political communities with abundant resources remain indifferent tO the misery and hunger of underdeveloped-areas. Countries with an excess of consumer goods, especially farm products,, should give emergency, aid to the indigent and needy of other coun-tries. This, however, should be ,accompanied by scientific, technical, and financial help to remove the causes of *underde~elopment. In the execution of this aid, social progress should grow simultaneously With economic progress, the native characteristics of the country should be respected, and political interestedness--another name [or colonialism--should be avoided. In giving such aid, it should always be remembered that technology, economic development, and material well-being are and must re-main secondary to spii~itual values. At this point the Pontiff showed how the entrance of the Church into a country has always restilted in social and econbfiaic better-ment. With regard to the problem of the increase in popula-tion and the sufficiency of mea'ns of sustenance, the Vicar of Chi'ist remarked that in a view of the world as a whole there does°not seem tobe at least for the moment and the near future a great difficulty. In any.case ~here is no need for solutions such as birth control which offend the moral order established by God. Even in individual countries and regions where there is an actual dispib'- portion between population arid means of sustenance, such means can not be used. The true solution is to be found only in economic development and in social prog-ress brought about in a moral atmosphere. "A provident God," he stated, "grants sufficient means to the human race to solve in dignified fashion even .the many and del-icate problems attendant upon the transmission of life." The last of the problems to be considered by the Pope was that of world co-operation. All problems of any importance, he began, present today supranational and often world dimensions. Hence the different political -communities can not solve such problems on their own and by themselves; accordingly there is a need for mutual °understanding; such understanding, however, is pre-vented today because of the mistrust and fear among nations. This mistrust exists because some political leaders do not recognize the existence of a moral order that is based or/ God. And without God, c6ncluded the Pontiff, science and technology are powerless to con-struct a civilization. In the fourth and last part of the encyclical, the Pope insisted that whatever technical and economic progress there may be, there will be neither justice nor peace in the world until men return to a sense of their dignity as creatures and sons-of God. This is why the Church is a herald of a way of life that is ever modern. From .her doctrine of the sacred dignity of the individual, she has drawn a social teaching that takes into consideration the realities of human nature, the various dimensions of the temporal order, and the characteristics of contem-porary society. This social teaching, he said, is an integral part of the Christian conception of li~[e and should be known, spread, and put into observance by all Catholics. The executibn of this doctrine will be the work especially of the laity whom, in the concluding sections of the en-cyclical, the Pontiff urges to remain close to. the doctrine of Christ and His Church. ÷ 4- 4- Roman Documents VOLUME 20, 1961 445 R. F. Smith~ S,]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU, S 446 Miscellaneous° Documents O~a July 22, 1960 (pp. 3~1-43)~ Pope John" issued an apostoli~ constitution dstablishing an exarchate foi: Ukranians of the Byzantine Ri~e living in .France. The see of the exarch will be in Pari~ and~he will be a ~uffr~igan of the archbishop of Paris; the power of the exarch will be exercised cumulatively with that of the loc'al ordinaries of France. On the sameday (pp. 343-44) a similar exarch-ate was estabhshed for those of the Armeman Rxte hwng in France. On April 23, 1961 (pp. 314-18), Hi~ Holines~ spoke to members of various Oriental rites, exl~ressing his admiration for the grandeu~ of Eastern Christianity and the hope that it will find'in the Pope "the sweetness of David and the wisdom of Solomon." On Pentecost, May 21, 1961 (pp. 358-62), His Holiness delivered an al-locution after he had consecrated fourteen mi.ssionary bishops from Africa, America, and Asia. He told his listeners tha t the. riew bishops w.ere the flowers of the new churches of Africa and Asia,~urged the new bishops to study the cultures and histories of their peoples and to work and firay that these be~b'enefited by the redemotion, and re'~all'ed the centenary of the dea'th of Bish~)p de Mazenod, founder of the Oblates 9f Mar~ Immaculate, one o~ the gre.at nanies in the modern renaissance of mission.activity. On November 24, 1960 (pp. 346-'50), the Holy Father'issued an apostolic c6nstitution establishing the hi.erarchy in Vietnam- with a division into three ecclesiastical provinces. On May 27, 1961 (p. 388.),. the Sacred .Cong~egation'bf Rites issued a declaration according to _which a ferial of the fourth class i~ never to be commemorated in a festive or votive Mass,. even though it be a conventual,, one. Accordingly~the f611owing numbers of the new code of rubrics are to ~be modified to read: N.-26. All ferials not mentioned in Nos. 23-25 are ferials of the fourth class; these ar~never commemorated. N.-289_. [At the beginning] On all'ferials of the fourth clasS . there may be said without a commemoration of the ferial. N. 299. [Second part] On bther ferials the Mass of the pre-cedin~ Sunday is said unless the rubrics provide otherwise. On May q l, 1961, the Feast of the Ascension (pp. 289- 95), Pope John XXIII solemnly canonized Blessed Mary Bertilla Boscardin'(1888-1922), virgin, of the School Sisters of St. Dorothy, Daughters of the Sacred Hearts. Her feast day is to be kept on October-22. In the hom.ily after the canonization, the Holy Father pointed out that the new saint is a l~sson to the~great and wise of this world, for she achieved greatness through humility and ,heroism through hidden sacrifice. He also stated that her sanctity was founded on her family where she learned the secret of constancy, on her catechism which taught her true wisdom, and on her religious vocation which allowed her to give herself entirely to God and to her neighbor. On April 26, 1961 (pp. 381-85), the Sacred Congregation of Rites affirmed the heroic virtue ol~ the venerable Servant of God, Leonard Murialdo (1828-1900), professed priest and founder of the Pious Society of St. Joseph. On'the same day (pp. 385-88), the congregation also affirmed the heroic virtue o1: the venerable Servant of God, Gertrude Comensoli (1847-1903), ~oundress of the Sacramentine Sisters. ~ On April 21, 1961 (pp. 308-14), the Holy Father ad-dressed the First National Italian Congress for Ecclesiasti-cal Vocations. He laid great stress on the influence of priests on vocations, the importance of seminaries for the developing of the human and Christian virtues of future priests, and the need to labor with discretion and zeal for the increase of vocations. On M~rch 25, 1,961 (pp. 371-80), the Sacred Congregation of Religious issued an instruction and statutes to govern extern sisters of monasteries of nun