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Issue 59.2 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Celibate .Chastity: A Symposium Religious Life Questions Witnessing Hispanic Catholic Report MARCH APRIL 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 2 Review for Religious helps people respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the charlsms of Catbollc consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis Univers!ty by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; "Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. 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Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ 0 ]LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Barbara J. Soete SSND James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC MARCH APRIL 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 2 con en s 118 131 139 c Oib te chastity: symposium Bowling Alone, Living Alone: Current Social Contexts for Living the Vows Mary Johnson SNDdeN couples the social context of community living with new possibilities for the meaning of the vows, particularly celibate chastity, so as to provide a radical gospel-based witness to countercultural values. Celibate Life Offers Insights Keith Clark OFMCap gives evidence that a celibate life well lived communicates to our culture a powerful message about the nature and meaning of sexuality, the unique nature of Christian marriage, and the motivation for the church's ministry. Discerning Our Celibate Way in Our Culture David L. Fleming SJ spells out some of the implications of discernment--making decisions with a lover's instinct--for living celibate chastity, which is defined as a way of loving. 148 156 What Is Religious Life's Purpose? Justin Taylor SM and Albert Dilanni SM question whether the basic purpose of religious life had been obscured long before Vatican II and still calls for clarity now. Must Hermits Work? Kenneth C. Russell provides insight into the place and value of work in the traditions of eremitical life in the Western church and draws some conclusions for today. Review for Religious 175 Mission: Not Do We Have One But Do I Live One? Rol~ert J. Murray OS~, emphasizes the need to live the valu'es reflected in mission statements for the health of the congregation. 180 188 The Easter Faith of Catherine of Siena Roland Calvert OSFS explains the paradox of Easter faith found not in Catherine's writings but in the activities of her life. Foucauld's Evolving Response tO God's Call Cathy Wright LSJ pictures the unfolding of the vocation of Charles de Foucauld and points to what it says to us about understanding our own vocations. 193 repor U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1999 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv, Eduardo C. Fernfindez SJ, and Ver6nica M~ndez RCD present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. 116 Prisms 209 Canonical Counsel: Location of the Novitiate 214 Book Reviews March-April 2000 116 ~e sometimes put more into preparing for a special event than we put into the actual celebration. We have been preparing during these past years to celebrate the new millennium--our efforts inspired by Pope John Paul II's Tertio Millennio Adveniente. Now that we have entered into the year 2000 we may find ourselves forgetful of the reason for our preparations. The bishops' conferences in many countries have identified various ways that priests, lay people, and religious may enter together into special celebrations that grace our liturgical year. Personally we are faced with the more day-to- day question: What are we doing to celebrate this jubilee year? First we need to recall for ourselves the obvious. What is this jubilee about? The heart of the jubilee year is our cherishing and rejoicing in the fact that the Word was made flesh, God became man, Jesus, Son of God and Son of Mary, was born two thousand years ago. And our world has never been the same. Each of us is called anew to our following of Jesus. How well do we know him? Despite the frequency with which we are exposed to the acronym WWJD, do we feel confident in acting out our response to the question "What would Jesus do?" The very title we proudly bear--Christian--suggests that others can expect to see in us a face of Christ, his action, his love, and his forgiveness. Perhaps, first of all, we need a renewed effort in this jubilee year to foster our friendship with Christ. As we search out the ways helpful to us for growing in our knowledge and love of Jesus (for example, spiritual reading, Bible study, prayer, Eucharist, volunteer service projects), we may find that Jesus' reference to the jubilee text in Isaiah 61 as he proclaims his own mission in Luke 4:18-19 can become our entrance into a way of celebration: Review for Religious The spirit of the Lord is upon me; therefore he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring glad tidings to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, recovery of sight to the blind, and release to prisoners, to announce a year of favor from the Lord. The context for such a mission for Jesus and so for us is "to be anointed," "to be sent." The biblical concept of jubilee involves, above all, a call from God. As we make attempts to find ways that we can celebrate, more than rushing to take on pious devotions or vol-unteer ministries, we need to listen to the call of God in our life. A litde more reflection time--listening time--is a pervading essential of a jubilee year. Jubilee and sabbath are intimately connected since jubilee is God's expansion of the sabbath rest. But rest in relation to God is not defined as inactivity; rather, sabbath centers us on taking time for our relationship with God, for enhancing that relationship. In a jubilee time we respond to God's initiative in our way of cele-brating rather than assume the initiative ourselves. Our behavior, then, would be like Jesus'--who describes himself as sent. For Jesus, the initiative is always God's. Our celebrating jubilee begins with our taking the time to be a listener, our being available to God's initiative, our making the effort to enhance our relationship with God. Just as jubilee is related to sabbath, so jubilee is also related to Sunday, the day of Jesus' resurrection. Jubilee celebrates a new begin-ning: drawing on new reserves of resources (for those who feel empty and poor), seeking new visions (for those who are blind or in the dark), enjoying new freedom (for those who suffer from feeling lim-ited and bound). The jubilee ideal for the Israelite people was spelled out in such concrete actions as returning land to original settlers, setting free the slave or servant, and letting the land lie fallow. Every action looked to a newness of life, a renewed beginning. Jesus assumed this dimension of the jubilee ideal as his mission and gave it divine meaning in his resurrection. We, the followers of Jesus and the recipients of his Spirit, continue to follow his example as we cel-ebrate jubilee: we listen to God, we follow God's lead, we imitate Jesus, we act like Christians. Maybe a jubilee year !s a time for us to confound G.K. Chesterton's witty and yet poignant judgment: "Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it has not been tried." Our celebration means that we determine to act like Christians, day in day out, all year long. Th~ world around us cer-tainly would be different. We would know a jubilee. David L. Fleming SJ 117 . March-April 2000 MARY JOHNSON Bowling Alone, Living Alone: Current Social Contexts for Living the Vows celibate chastity a symposium The meaning of the vows, sociologically speaking, is drawn from the human context in which they are lived. Sociologically speaking, their significance lies, not in interior inspiration and dedication, but in how they appear different from other ways of life and ways of liv-ing. Religious vows are liv~d in many social contexts. This discussion focuses on two of them, the societal and the communal. For the first, I shall turn to Robert D. Putnam's influential article "Bowling Alone: America's Declining Social Capital" (1995). For the second, I shall refer to the provocative talk given by Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM at the Wernersville symposium in 1998 and later published in Review for Religious (March-April 1999) and to relevant data from my recent study of women's institutes in the United States. Mary Johnson SNDdeN, an associate professor of sociology at Emmanuel College in Boston, participated in the symposium titled "Celibate Chastity: God's Invitation to Love in a Sexually Confused Culture" held 22-24 October 1999 at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. This and the next two articles come from that symposium. In this written version Mary Johnson has refocused her original presentation, developing and broadening the topic in the light of the subse-quent papers and discussions. Her address is Sociology Department; Emmanuel College; 400 The Fenway; Boston, Massachusetts 02115. Review for Religious Bowling Alone Harvard Professo~ Robert Putnam, in "Bowling Alone," draws a riveting picture of the result of the loosening of communal bonds across U.S. society in the last thirty years. A commentary on his research in the Chronicle of Higher Education (Heller, 1996) notes that "scores of iournalists have picked up on the implica-tions." Policy makers and government officials, too, have listened to him. Putnam has twice been invited to the White House for brainstorming sessions on the breakdown of American communi-ties. Currently he is writing a book on the subject, doing cross-national research, and participating in workshops that seek solutions to widespread civic disengagement. Putnam notes that "American social scientists of a neo- Tocquevillean bent have unearthed a wide range of empirical evi-dence that the quality of public life and the performance of social institutions (and not only in America) are indeed powerfully influ-enced by norms and networks of civic engagement." He says that these norms and networks are elements of the "social connected-ness" that constitutes the social scientific concept of "social cap-ital." He defines the concept thus: "Social capital refers to features of social organization such as networks, norms, and social trust that facilitate coordination and cooperation for mutual benefit." He continues: "For some reason, life is easier in a commu-nity blessed with a substantial stock of social capital. In the first place, networks of civic engagement foster sturdy norms of gen-eralized reciprocity and encourage the emergence of social trust. Such networks facilitate coordination and communication, amplify reputations, and thus allow dilemmas of collective action to be resolved. When economic and political negotiation is embedded in dense networks of social interaction, incentives for opportunism are reduced. At the same time, networks of civic engagement embody past success at collaboration, which can serve as a cul-tural template for future collaboration. Finally, dense networks of interaction probably broaden the participants' sense of self, devel-oping the T into the 'we.'" Putnam then provides a sweeping overview of the "declined" in social capital in the United States since the 1960s. He begins with politics. Putnam points out that, from the early 1960s to 1990, voter turnout has declined by a quarter in national elec-tions. Since 1973, attendance at town meetings has declined by a third. He states that decline is evident in studies of the numbers March-April 2000 Johnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone "attending a political rally or speech, serving on a committee of some local organization, and working for a political party." He comments on the loosening of bonds in nuclear and extended families and in neighborhoods. He continues by citing evidence of decline in religious involvement, labor union mem-bership, parent-teacher association involvement, and volunteer-ing in civic, fraternal, and women's organizations like the Red Cross, the Boy Scouts, the Shriners, the Jaycees, and the League of Women Voters. He states that, "after expanding steadily throughout most of [the 20th] century, many major civic organi-zations have experienced a sudden, substantial, and nearly simul-taneous decline in membership over the last decade or two." Putnam concludes this section of his article by referring to the metaphor in his title, which has become a symbol of the dis-integration of communal bonds in the society. He says: "The most whimsical yet discomfiting bit of evidence of social disengage-ment in contemporary America that I have discovered is this: More Americans are bowling today than ever before, but bowling in organized leagues has plummeted in the last decade or so. Between 1980 and 1993 the total number of bowlers in America increased by ten percent, while league bowling decreased by forty percent. The broader social, significance, however, lies in the social inter-action and even occasionally civic conversations over beer and pizza that solo bowlers forg6. Bowling teams illustrate yet another vanishing form of social capital." Putnam gives evidence of some countertrends: the rapid and dramatic rise in membership in certain groups like the Sierra Club, the National Organization for Women, and the American Association of Retired Persons. However, while the political clout of these organizations is considerable, the nature of involvement is vastly different from the organizations discussed previously. Putnam says: "For the vast majority of their members (Sierra, NOW, AARP, and so forth), the only act of membership consists of writing a check for dues or perhaps occasionally reading a newslet-ter. Their ties, in short, are to common symbols, common leaders, and perhaps common ideals, but not to one another. From the point of view of social connectedness, the Environmental Defense Fund and a bowling league are just not in the same category." Putnam identifies two other countertrends: the growth in non-profit organizations, and in support groups. But he argues that these do not fill the role that civic organizations do. He cites soci- Review for Religious ologist Robert Wuthnow's national, study of support groups: "Small groups may not be fostering community as effectively as many of their proponents would like. Some small groups merely provide occasions for individuals to focus on themselves in the presence,of others. The social contract binding members together asserts only the weakest of obligations. Come if you have time. Talk if you feel like it. Respect everyone's opinion. Never criticize. Leave qui-etly if you become dissatisfied. We can imagine that [these small groups] really substitute for families, neigh-borhoods, and broader community attach-ments that may demand lifelong commitments, when, in fact, they do not." Putnam has reflected on causes of and solutions to the breakdown of American communal life. He calls for reinventing community life, but, as an interview arti-cle in the Chronicle of Higher Education says, "the Internet will not do the trick. Nor will nostalgia for a vanishing America. 'Some people have interpreted what I have said as a nostalgic call to return to the 50s. That is not what I say.'" He continues: "It is not just social capital, period. It is social capital that cuts across the existing cleavages in American society. That is, it is not enough that we all start bowling again. There have to be bowling leagues in which people of different races are connecting with one another." He concludes his interview by asserting: "This is the single most important problem facing America. If we can solve this one, if we can get more people engaged in community life in contexts that respect American pluralism, many of our other problems--to begin with, our politics--will be different." Bowling teams illustrate yet another vanishing form of social capital. Beginning the Conversation Putnam's portrait of a society bowling alone has struck a deep chord in the national psyche of Americans. It has caused many to reflect on the fact that our democracy is dependent on a vibrant civic life held together by strong communal bonds. I would argue that Sister Doris Gottemoeller's article "Community Living: Beginning the Conversation" has had a similar effect. Her article has struck a deep chord in the religious psyche of Catholic sis-ters, causing many to ponder what community means to the way March-April 2000 12I Johnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone of life and mission of apostolic religious in this country. The com-munal bonds that Putnam studies appear weak in a variety of local institutions--family, neighborhood, civic organization, and the like. Both articles point us to a consideration of the quality of communal bonds in local communities of religious. The intent of Sister Doris's article is to "break the silence" about living in community. She believes that "community living may be the 'Achilles' heel' of contemporary apostolic religious life." She says, "Often the mere mention of the topic brings about an awkward silence, embarrassed dismissals, or defensive equivo-cations." She cites a number of reasons for the present silence about the discussion of community life and then raises six questions to begin the conversation: What are we talking about when we talk about community living? What is its theological basis? What can we say about a spirituality for community? What is the role of leadership in creating and sustaining community? What are some special challenges to living community life today? What can we do to renew our community life? I want to focus on the first question here since I believe that it is foundational to .further discussion. Without clear terminology, discussion can lose its way. Sister Doris offers this definition: "Community living is what happens when two or more people relate to one another in a significant, mutually beneficial, and ongoing way." She elaborates on what she means by each of these elements and then concludes that "we are tal~ng about good-faith efforts to live a principal value of religious life. With few excep-tions, it will include a common residence." Building the Structures I begin with Sister Doris's first question bechuse, while much of our rhetbric about ourselves refers to our life in community, I am not convinced that we have a commonly accepted definition. And our inability to arrive at such a definition has implications for ourselves and those who want to join us as sisters. A case in point: A front-page article in the Sunday New York Times (16 January 2000) discusses the efforts of the Sisters of Mercy of New York, New Jersey, and Brooklyn in using modern media tools (a Web site and an advertising campaign) to recruit a new generation of sisters. The article is illustrated with a graphic (recently sent to college campuses in poster form) that includes a catchy picture Revlew for Religious and caption. At the bottom are the words "Sisters of Mercy-- women religious who respond to God's call each day through ser-vice, prayer, and community life." This descriptive is similar to dozens of others used by con-gregations throughout the United States in recruitment efforts. My question now is: What do we mean when we promise new sis-ters community life, and what do they expect to receive when they come? Numbers of women interested in entering, and numbers of newer and not-so-new sisters as well, express a desire to live and pray and share household tasks and support for ministry with sis-ters under the same roof. That is their definition of "community." These women are neither statistically nor substantively insignifi-cant to the present and future of religious life. But it is clear that nowadays the definition of community is often being adapted to mean province life, congregational life, parish life, a circle of inti-mate friends, family members, prayer partners, support and prayer groups within congregations, coworkers, and national and inter-national groups. These broader (or narrower) definitions of com-munity are shared by other numbers of religious. This is a serious issue that has to be addressed. It is one more example of Putnam's finding that communal bonds that have united people to one another on the local level are disintegrating, even while new kinds of linkages are being established. This is not to say that people do not still espouse ideals. But, as Putnam found, they often do so in the abstract or at a distance, through periodic meet-ings, newsletters, or the Internet. But, we have to ask, is this level of engagement adequate to sustain a way of life and mission and to socialize the newer sisters, the majority of whom desire com-munal bonds within communities? This is also not to imply that the relationships with other groups are not important to and essen-tial for life and mission. But, as Putnam said about social con-nectedness, "the Environmental Defense Fund and a bowling league are just not in the same category." Similarly, a group of friends that meets quarterly, a prayer group that meets monthly, and a support group that meets weekly are just not in the same category as a community that lives under the same roof and inter-acts daily. Another question, whether the daily interaction of the community is life-giving, or death-dealing, is an important one, but a different one. Often the two questions are conflated, thus bringing conversation about community to a dead halt. ~larch-April 2000 Johnson * Bowling Alone, Living Alone The work of sharply defining and rebuilding community is essential to the mission and future of apostolic religious life in the United States and other nations where religious life struggles to free itself from the hegemonic hold of middle-class values. This effort is as radical as previous clear and unequivocal claims that the preferential option for the poor means the materially poor. Because many people were willing to work to prevent the word poor from being stretched to meaninglessness and the resultant loss of its prophetic power, we now have a new generation of young Catholics in the United States who claim, in a survey our research team recently conducted, that concern for the poor and the belief that God is present in a special way in the poor are essential dimensions of the Catholic faith (Dinges et al., p. 13). That work, of almost three decades ago, toward a clear and unequivocal def-inition of "the poor" has galvanized energy and commitment to the poor today, especially on the part of the young. In sociology there are dozens of uses for the term community. M1 members of the church, whether single or married, clergy or religious, find themselves embedded in all kinds of groups-fami-lies and parishes and prayer, work, neighborhood, ethnic, national, and international or global groups--which they sometimes describe as their "community." Those social networks will only increase and multiply in the years ahead as technology becomes even more sophisticated. The time seems to be right, especially in the midst of conversations about new forms of religious life, for a case to be made by those who believe that local community life with strong communal bonds is fundamental, not incidental, to apostolic religious life and its mission. This need becomes more acute in light of data given below, data I collected recently in my national study (funded by Lilly Endowment) of women's institutes in the United States. (The .publication of the data from the entire study is forthcoming.) Gathering data from apostolic, monastic, and evangelical orders, the survey was responded to by 70 percent of the women's institutes, institutes that represent 84 percent of the sisters in the United State~. The survey indicates that there are 18,052 com-munities (local houses). The vast majority are apostolic commu-nities. The unit of analysis here is the community, the local house. The table reads as follows: 49 percent of the religious houses in the United States have one sister residing in them, 20 percent of the houses have two sisters, and 9 percent have three sisters; 2 percent Review for Religious of the houses have more than 20 sisters residing in them. Community Size Percentage of houses Number of sisters 49 One 20 Two 9 Three 7 Four 4 Five 6 6-10 2 11-15 1 16-20 2 Over 20 Do these data surprise you? What explains them? How does your congregation compare? What has been lost and gained in this new configuration of houses? Surveying the sisters who entered religious life from 1966 to 1998--the post-Vatican II entrants, not a statistically or substan-tively insignificant generation--I asked the following questions. If you had your preference right now, with whom would you prefer to live? No one 8.8 percent An ecumenical group 0.7 percent An interfaith group 0.4 percent Married couple(s) 0.1 percent Single lay person(s) 0.9 percent Men and women religious 3.8 percent Sisters of my own institute 64.1 percent Children 0.2 percent Teens/young adults 0.1 percent Family members 0.3 percent Intercongregationally - 5.3 percent Combination of my sisters and one of the above 15.2 percent If you bad your preference right now, with how many sisters would you prefer to live? With none 11 percent With one other sister 14 percent With two other sisters 12 percent In a group of 4-7 sisters 45 percent In a group of 8-10 sisters 6 percent In a group of 11-15 sisters 2 percent In a group of 16-20 sisters 4 percent In a group of more than 20 sisters : 6 percent March-April 2000 ~obnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone Which of these data surprise you? What might explain these data? What further discussions do we need to have in light of these data? How do these issues of community relate to mission? What place does community hold in the life of apostolic congregations? Living in Community In light of Putnam's data, it seems that the creation of com-munal bonds is truly countercultural; that is, it goes against the prevailing value of social disconnectedness and weak, superficial, or nonexistent bonds among people and groups on the local level in the wider society. Countercultural living is one of the hallmarks of religious life. Can these issues be addressed in this light? One challenge to the conversation has to do with the social and communal contexts in which we live. The vows are not only lived within a wider society, marked by looser communal bonds and a religious life characterized by primarily monadic, dyadic, and triadic configurations. The vows are also lived against a hege-monic middle-class culture in which individualism, privatism, and materialism are cornerstones. Another challenge is the personal. Some sisters have had to move into various communal arrangements over the years because of ministry. But sometimes ministry concerns can serve to eclipse .any conversation about community. Some sisters have not been community builders or sustainers in the past. Can these issues be revisited again at this new moment? The challenge is compounded by the fact that many sisters holding key positions in the min-istries of leadership, formation work, vocation work, academia, pastoral work and counseling, national conference work, parish and diocesan work, congregational service, and so forth live alone. Can we be certain to include them in this conversation, even if we have sometimes avoided this issue altogether because they are our friends? Sometimes, when people do live with others, there seems to be a sense that, because of their work, the fewer persons living in the house, the better. Greater numbers of people are seen as deen-ergizing people for mission rather than energizing them. One hears gasps, even groans, when someone says that she lives with several sisters. Memories of the past rise up and seem to choke any attempt to talk about living with more than two other people, an arr.angement that might better accommodate needs of miriistry Review for Religious and hospitality, congregational responsibilities, household tasks, and the maintaining of "breathing room." Can we get to this level in the conversation? The inability to discuss some of these issues is all the more .troubling given the fact that the Catholic Church in the United States continues to grow. It now stands at 62 million people, the largest religious body in the nation, with 20 million of its members in their 20s and 30s. It is paradoxical that, as the church grows, the size of religious houses shrinks. At the same time, vocation and formation personnel continue to plead for more space for possible aspirants and newer sisters. Celibacy in Culture It is against the backdrop of these social and communal con-siderations that I present a brief overview of recent studies in human sexuality. The intended and unintended consequences of uncoupling the vows from community living (a phenomenon now several decades old) need, I' am convinced, to be analyzed regard-ing the mutual relationship each of the three vows has with com-munity. That is, how does celibacy shape community and community shape celibacy? How does poverty shape community and community shape poverty? And so forth. For the purposes of this symposium, we shall focus on celibacy. The studies in human sexuality point to new possibilities for the meaning of this vow: that, together with community, it can provide a radical gospel-based witness to countercultural values. Groups who live this vow well, sharing together the depth of a nongenitally expressed intimacy, give witness to one of the deep-est yearnings of this culture. The celibacy of a group gives proof to the whole society that its yearnings for intimacy can be ful-filled, that it is possible to love deeply and celibately and to do so together, without harsh lonliness. Celibate groups witness to the fact that the journey does not have to be made in isolation, that even this seemingly lonely vow is to be shared. Communities with strong communal bonds and deep celibate love witness also to a love that can cross the seemingly uncrossable social lines of gen-eration, race, and social class, to name just three. It is especially to the young that we must go with this news since they are the objects of so much manipulation about whom to love and how to love. Some of them say that because of this they are afraid to love. We, March-April 2000 127 - Johnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone whose public identities are so clearly tied to a unique way of liv-ing love, have a corporate responsibility to speak about what we have learned about love to a society paradoxically satiated by sex-ual excess and starved for intimacy. While no studies of human sexuality are perfect because of people's tendencies to overreport or underreport sexual practice, we can glean, from data collected in the following studies, some insights as to how to share the gift that has been given us. The first attempt at a systematic look at issues of human sex-uality was conducted by Alfred Kinsey. Considered a pioneer, Kinsey began his research in the 1930s, and his assertions stood for almost four decades. His work, however, was not without problems. He did not use a sample; he relied upon volunteers to serve as respondents, and so their responses were not representative of the population as a whole. In later years Masters and Johnson, too, used volunteers, involving their work in the same difficulty of being nongeneralizable. Nongeneralizable work can, however, provide important insights on other levels. Sociologist Lillian Rubin, in the United States in the late 1980s, interviewed a thou-sand people between the ages of thirteen and forty-eight about their sexual practices. One significant finding was that sexual activ-ity begins early among today's teens and that teen sexual practices are similar to those of adults. The National Health and Social Life Survey (NHSLS) of the 1990s was the first national scientific study of sexual practices. Rather than enlisting volunteers, it used probability sampling to find its respondents. A thumbnail sketch of some of the findings follows. First, there has been and increase in the level of pre-marital sex, especially among women. Over 95 percent of U.S. men and women getting married ~oday have been sexually active before marriage. One in five women have reported being forced to perform sexual acts against their will. The perpetrator was often known by the women; sometimes it was someone they loved, including their own husbands. On the other hand, only 3 percent of men reported that they had forced women to perform sexual acts. The researchers, struck by the gender gap, hypothesized' that the gap was due not only to underreporting by the men but also to their failure to recognize their behavior as coercive. The survey also found that 2.8 percent of men and 1.4 percent of women identified themselves as gay, lesbian, or bisexual. This Review for Religious stands in contradiction to the Kinsey report of 1948, wherein 10 percent of the population was estimated to be homosexual. Groups challenged the NHSLS findings, arguing that the percentages are too small. The research team responded by saying that, although larger percentages of gays, lesbians, and bisexuals are found in urban areas and in other enclaves in the United States, the survey findings reflect national, not local or regional, reality. The researchers analyzed their data according to religion and level of education. The Catholic data here indicate that the median number of sex partners since age eighteen was three. Thirteen percent of the Catholics had no sex part-ners in the previous year, 72 percent had one sex partner, 13 percent had 2 to 4 sex partners, and 3 percent had 5 or more sex partners. Which of the above findings surprise you? Which do not? How can discus-sions about sexuality improve our rela-tionship with and commitment to all of the people of God? Beyond these questions, it seems to me that further discussion on living the vows in community might be helped by the following questions: ¯ In light of the studies on human sexu-ality, how do we talk about celibacy and how do we support celibacy? ¯ What kind of norms and structures are in place in those communities which exhibit strong communal bonds? ¯ In those communities, how are the following values manifest: personal and communal prayer? celebration and mealtimes? ecological sensi-tivity? hospitality? concern for social justice and the poor? a sim-ple lifestyle? loving support? trust and joy? concern for the ministry and apostolic call of each sister~ fidelity to the call of the wider congregation and to the people of God? ¯ What are the forces, besides ministry or mission, that have pushed some people to live alone or live with their best friend? ¯ How can we resolve issues about community of the past so that we can move toward envision.ing community for the present and future? ¯ How can we unite our efforts to build strong commu-nities and to learn how to live together with the efforts of other groups, especially couples and families, who are also trying to How can discussions about sexuality improve our relationship with and commitment to all of the people of God? 129 March-April 2000 Johnson ¯ Bowling Alone, Living Alone r learn how to live together, to resolve conflicts peacefully, and to enjoy life together? ¯ How can we unite our efforts to balance ministry and community with the efforts of so many in the soci-ety who yearn for a healthier balance of work and family life? These conversations may not be easy becatise they will require crossing a major, though subtle, divide between those who see liv-ing in community as essential and those who see it as incidental. By not engaging in these conversations, however, we uninten-tionally contribute to negative effects on recruitment, retention, and mission. In the midst of wide-ranging and sometimes obfus-cating discussions on new forms of religious life, the voices of those who are committed to the radical gospel-values contained in the vowed apostolic life as it is lived in community have been eerily silent. Perhaps the time has come for many more sisters to break the taboo. References Dinges, William, Dean R. Hoge, Mary Johnson, and Juan L. Gonzalez Jr. "A Faith Loosely Held: The Institutional Allegiance of Young Catholics." Commonweal, 17 July 1998, 13-18. Gotternoeller, Doris, RSM. "Community Living: Beginning the Conversation." Review for Religious 58, no. 2 (March-April 1999): 137-149. Heller, Scott. "Harvard Professor Examines America's Fading Sense of Community." Chronicle of Higher Education, 1 March 1996, A10. Putnam, Robert D. "Bowling Alone: America's Declining Social Capital." Journal of Democracy 6, no. 1 (January 1995): 65-78. Many foreign missionaries depend upon people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363. Review for Religious KEITH CLARK Celibate Life Offers Insights poerhaps the most countercultural statement that will come ut of this conference is its title. This may be the only gath-ering that states boldly that we live in a "sexually confused cul-ture." My experience of the past twenty years suggests that an ever increasing number of people with backgrounds in an ever widen-ing array of disciplines have attempted to pronounce the last word in just about all areas of human sexuality. We sit here and suggest that our culture is sexually confused. Audacious! I have no "last word" to offer on the topic. The most recent word I have spoken to myself is this: I want to write to the Holy Father and ask him to change the discipline of mandatory celibacy as a prerequisite for presbyteral ordination in the Roman Church. My reason is this: The witness of a celibate life well lived is thor-oughly obscured in our society, in our church, by the assumption on the part of most that those who are committed to a celibate life have made the commitment reluctantly in order to achieve the status of ordination. Since ordination does not have that much status in the eyes of most people, there is little impetus to con-sider seriously either a celibate lifestyle or ordination. The thou-sands of women and men religious who are committed to a celibate life are somehow lumped with those who are assumed to be reluc-tant celibates for the sake of some other pursuit. Keith Clark OFMCap presented this paper at a symposium titled "Celibate Chastity: God's Invitation to Love in a Sexually Confused Culture," held in October 1999 at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. His address is St. Lawrence Friary; 301 Church Street; Mount Calvary, Wisconsin 53057. March-April 2000 Clark ¯ Celibate Life Offers Insights I would make my request of the Holy Father not because I think celibacy has no relevance to our culture, but rather so that the celibate life well lived will better communicate to our culture what our culture so desperately needs to understand. A celibate life well lived can communicate to our culture a powerful message about the nature and meaning of human sexu-ality, the unique nature of Christian marriage, and the motivation for the church's ministry. In order to live a celibate life well, a priest or religious must engage in prayer and ministry in a way that fosters that life. These are the points I intend to develop. The Nature and Meaning of Human Sexuality To understand the nature of human sexuality, we have to go beyond exclusive concentration on the study of genetic markers, synapses in the brain, and the other fascinations of scientific explo-ration in order to understand how human beings are moved to come together in a sexual encounter and commitment. My experience suggests that I am sexual on three levels. First, I know myself to be sexual on the biological level. I have a biolog-ical sexual apparatus which works. It is entirely instinctual. And ir works no matter how I understand or misunderstand it. My bio-logical sexual apparatus is clearly designed to bring me together with a female member of my species for the purpose of making other human beings. (See the Nova series program The Miracle of Life.) The impetus I receive from my biological level to come together with another human being is pleasure. Genital sexual activity is pleasurable. I identify this impetus as my biological sex-ual urge. It can be, and is, the subject of scientific inquiry. I know myself to be sexual on the biopsychological level. In most instances, this is experienced as being sexual in an emotional way. It is that amazing level of the human being which allows one's body to affect one's psyche, and one's psyche to affect one's body. The blush in the cheeks in response to embarrassment in one's psyche is possible because of our biopsychological makeup: In terms of my sexuality, the biopsychological level is that in me which allows some things to have sexual significance for me and which, therefore, stir my biological sexual apparatus. This is the seat of romantic interest. This level of sexuality is both instinc-tual and learned. I am born with the capacity to recognize some things as having sexual significance, and I learn some things that Review for Religious have sexual significance for me. I learn these things, not because somebody sits me down and talks to me, but because of the "minute displays of emotion" (Erik Erikson) which I pick up from my sur-roundings. What has sexual significance varies from one culture to another. (See the movie Walkabout.) The impetus I receive from my biopsychological level to come together with other human beings is emotional fascination. Romantic sexual activity is exciting. I iden-tify this impetus as my biopsychological sexual drive. It can be, and is, the subject of scientific inquiry, especially today, since this level includes one's sexual orientation. Most discussions of human sexuality stop after genital sexual urges and romantic sexual drives have been spoken about. These are the levels we humans share with the higher forms of animal life. Whatever else is said about human sexuality is frequently thought to be the in the realm of religionists and ethicists, taking the form of advice and instruction on how to ride the beast which has been described in considering the biological and biopsychological levels. But, even in the higher forms of animal life, there is another level: the level of sexual need. In the animal world, the sexual need is that the species continue. This sexual need instinctually regulates or moderates the activity of the urges and drives. The biological urges and the biopsychological drives of male dogs are activated only when the need of the species can be met, when there is in the vicinity a female dog in heat. It is filling this sexual need that gives meaning to all the sexual activity. At the level of sexual need, we human beings differ from the higher forms of animal life in two ways. First, we are spiritual beings, and our personal needs are not entirely subjugated to the needs of the species. We have also a personal sexual need, that is, our need for intimacy with other human beings. Second, in human beings the sexual need for the species and the personal sexual need for intimacy do not instinctually moderate our sexual urges and drives. Because we are persons (spiritual), we have an intellect and will. We must moderate our sexual urges and drives by insight and freedom, or they will not be moderated. Because the activity of our biological urges and our biopsy-chological drives is not instinctually moderated, human beings can engage in genital and romantic pursuits without any reference to the personal need for intimacy or the need of the species to con-tinue. Thus, people have invented contraception and abortion, which divorce sexual activity from the need of the species, and March-April 2000 Clark ¯ Celibate Life Offers Insights have invented free love and sexual promiscuity as well, which divorce sexual activity from the personal need for intimacy. The gratification of people's sexual urges and drives is accepted as ade-quate meaning for sexuality. "If it feels good, do it." Urges and drives impel people to behave in ways that will fill their sense of need. If the gratification of their sexual urges and drives alone brought sexual fulfillment, ours would be the most sexually fulfilled culture in the world. In fact, human sexual activ-ity can find its meaning only in the filling of the human sexual need for intimacy. Intimacy is the "simultaneous fusing and coun-terpointing of personalities" (Erikson). It is spirit touching spirit. It is allowed to arise in human life through the dynamics of self-awareness, self-disclosure, and listening in prayer. Among the ways those dynamics can be expressed are genital and romantic pur-suits. But, among married, single, and celibate people, intimacy can arise without genital and romantic pursuits. A celibate life well lived reveals this meaning of human sexu-ality. Celibacy is not merely abstinence from genital and romantic pursuits; that by itself will not lead to personal sexual fulfillment in intimacy. A celibate life well lived is the pursuit of intimacy, sex-ual fulfillment, in ways which do not include romantic and geni-tal pursuits. It is a way of loving people, not because I am urged or driven to do so because they have sexual significance to me, but because they are deserving of love whether they appeal to me or not. The celibate man or woman stands as a support to spouses in their pursuit of intimacy, whether at the moment the spouses are romantically driven or genitally urged or not. The celibate woman or man stands as a support to all people in their pursuit of con-nectedness with other human beings for reasons quite distinct from their attractiveness to us. The Unique Nature of Christian Marriage Although a celibate commitment is most often spoken of as a distinct contrast to married life, the two states of life are intimately related within the believing Christian community. The marriage of Christians is different from the way other people marry. Christian marriage is a sacrament because it is a vis-ible sign of what cannot be seen. Christian marriage is not merely a response to the genital and romantic feelings the spouses have for each other. The commitment of spouses to each other is a com- Review for Religious mitment to be there for each other for life, no matter what. It is a sign of how fully Christ has taken us all to himself. A celibate commitment is not a sacrament: it points to some-thing that can be seen, but might not be recognized for what it is. The celibate commitment points to what is unique in the com-mitment of Christian married couples. The committed celibate within the believing community asks all people to recognize the unique basis for Christian marriage. The Motivation of the Church's Ministry in the World A committed celibate life is a lifestyle, not a ministry. That lifestyle, however, points to that which is the basis of all church ministry. The church's ministry is caring for one another within the community and taking care of our world. It is based on the min-istry of Jesus, who said, "I have come, not to be served, but to serve." Church ministry to its members and to the rest of the world is not based on the driven components of human love, nor is it merely philanthropy called for by the needs people have. It is based on Jesus' commandment to love one another as he loved us. Again, the committed celibate life points to something that can be seen (the ministry), but might not be recognized for what it is. There is, accordingly, an argument from "fittingness" to be made for a celibate commitment in the ordained ministers who preside at our Eucharists and who order the church's ministry. A church might well want to select those who will lead and order our ministry from the ranks of those who say by their lifestyle, and not just their words and actions, that ministry is about loving people for reasons other than their attractiveness to us. Prayer and Ministry, the Sources of Strength for Celibate Living The great fear ] hear from young people is that a committed celibate life would be a lonely life, while marriage is a life filled with intimacy. I think that, in general, human lives are neither lonely nor intimate. Life has lonely moments and intimate moments. Married people stand ready to enter fully and vulnera-bly life's intimate moments, and to find God there concretely. Celibate people stand ready to enter fully and vulnerably life's lonely moments, and to find God there concretely. March-April 2000 . !36- ! Clark * Celibate Life Offers Insights Let me share with you my entering a lonely moment and find-ing God concretely. I was sitting in my office in Milwaukee, prepar-ing a continuing-education report for the provincial council. I began to daydream: I was before that council, not to give a report, but to receive a new assignment. I was being congratulated on my performance in the job I was leaving, and then the provincial asked me what job I would like to do next. I said, "I really don't care. But please, gentlemen, give me a job I can do well that will have some significance in your eyes." The daydream faded, and I sat at my desk pondering what I had heard myself say to the provinci.al council. I was not pleased with what I recognized. What I had said seemed rather mean and cheap. I wondered if the approval of others might be what moti-vated much of my behavior, or all of it! I could feel myself blush at this bit of self-awareness. I was surprised at myself, and I was having a difficult time accepting myself as I now knew myself to be. I felt very fragile. But I stayed with this line of thought and emo-tion, and seemed to reach an even greater depth, where I inwardly smiled sheepishly while disclosing to God who and how I was. At that depth I realized that God was not surprised at my motiva-tion. God had known it all along. It was news only to me! And I realized that God was not having a difficult time accepting me. God had for years accepted me as I was. There was a knock at my office door. I said, "Come in." It was Jeannie, supposedly my secretary, but really the one who runs the office. She was incredibly efficient and competent. I looked at her and, for the first time, wondered whether she sometimes felt as fragile as I did. If she did, I was much more open to accept-ing her that way. I was able to connect with her more intimately than I could have before. It was as if, with the mask of my own self-sufficiency stripped away, I could see beyond the efficiency (and self-sufficiency?) of another and get a glimpse of the perhaps fragile human being who lived there. It is not only this kind of self-awareness, self-disclosure, and listening in prayer that can bring a person to a moment of intimacy with God; so can ministry. Committed celibate persons can have as many moments of intimacy in their life as any married or single people can. There remains, however, a crack in the sidewalk that celibate people might trip on. I learned about this while visiting a couple to give them a chance to talk about a Capuchin they knew and loved who Review for Religious had suddenlY left the community with the intention to marry a young woman from town. As we were preparing to have a drink at their kitchen table, Don said, "I think you and my wife ought to go sit on the porch swing and talk for a while." So we did. Mary and I had talked for a short while about Ralph's departure when she said suddenly, "You don't belong to anybody, Keith Clark, and you never should! Ralph used to belong to all of us, but now he belongs to Jennifer." I thought often about Mary's observation, and I realized that the human desire to belong uniquely to another human being is a desire which will not be fulfilled in my life. About me no one will ever say "my husband" or "my father." And even if they say "my priest" or "my Capuchin," it does not ring true. I will never belong uniquely to any human being. And this is a void where I might fall. I need to fill ~hat void by developing my sense of belong-ing uniquely to God. I find I do this most readily in ministry. I learned a lesson from the full-sized red Hawthorne bicycle that my father gave me right after World War II ended. The bicycle was too large for me. My legs were too short for my feet to reach the pedals. My father put wooden blocks on both sides of the pedals, which allowed me to reach them. Even at the young age of six or seven, I knew that to have a new bicycle was very exceptional. The "war effort" had taken most of the steel available in the nation, and production of peacetime products like bicycles was just getting underway. I knew, too, that I was uniquely the object of my father's love. He did not buy other people a bicycle; other fathers in the neigh-borhood were not buying bicycles for their children. This gift from my father was unique. It took a few lessons from my father to get me up and pedal-ing. He would run alongside me, holding on to the back of the bicycle seat until I had gotten up enough speed to keep the bicy-cle from falling over. Eventually I mastered it. The bicycle stood up well to my use and occasional abuse of it. It lasted well into my newspaper-carrier days, when we added a large basket over the front wheel. I have thought of that red bike often. It taught me a lesson about gifts and how they are to be used and enjoyed. If I had let A committed celibate life is a lifestyle, not a ministry. 137 March-April 2000 Clark ¯ Celibate Life Offers Imigbts I used to think that God gave me gifts so I could do things for other people. that bicycle stand on the front porch to be admired but not used, I do not think I would have made my father very happy. If I had waited until I had a paper route before I used it, I think my father would have been disappointed. Even telling him over and over how much I loved the bicycle and how grateful I was would, I am sure, not have been enough to please him. He gave me the bicy-cle to use and to enjoy. It was a long time before I understood that the gifts I receive from God are much like the bicycle I received from my father. I used to think that God gave me gifts so I could do things for other people. I missed the fact that my gifts are unique and that they are a sign of God's unique love for me. For a long time I was afraid to enjoy using them. Now I allow myself to enjoy using my gifts. I can listen to people and can understand a lot of what they tell me. Sometimes I can even say the needed word, the right word, in response to them. It is a gift from God. Sometimes a seminary student coming to me for spiritual direction feels much better after we have talked. When he leaves my office, I realize that I was able to hear and understand him because of the skills and talents God has given me through my life's experiences. I know that no one else could have done for that student exactly what I did. Some people could have done more than I did; oth-ers could have done something different but equally helpful. But no one could have done just what I did. I sit back and enjoy what I have just done. Then I tell God, "Thank you," knowing I am loved uniquely. Culture and Counterculture These things could be more easily understood and more inte-grally and effectively practiced if we lived in a world of real mean-ing. Until such time as our culture moves into that real world, we continue to live our lives of celibate commitment as a "value radi-ation center" (Van Kaam) so that the values of the real world do not become completely obscured by the understandings and practices of the less-than-real world in which we and others unavoidably continue to live. Review for Religious DAVID L. FLEMING Discerning Our Celibate Way in Our Culture In this third presentation of the 1999 Wernersville symposium, want to gather together the themes of the two previous pre-sentations and then point out the work ahead of us. The topic I have been given has three clear parts, from the words contempo-rary culture, celibates, and discern. Our two previous presentations have clarified our understanding of the first two terms, culture and celibates. Let me highlight several points. Mary Johnson SNDdeN has given us a snapshot picture of our culture and its attitude toward chastity. She began by pointing out difficulties in making an assessment. We, along with other peo-ple, may be overly impressed by flurries of sound-bite judgments proffered by the media or by generalizations stated by pulpit ora-tors. "All college-age students do . " "In our country everyone. ¯." Trying to go beyond impressions towards what we call factual information, we find some security in statistics and in popular polls. But, even with a carefully constructed statistical study, there remains the difficulty of overreporting or underreporting, espe-cially if the issue is a delicate one, such as sexuality and sexual behavior. For example, when reporting sexual mores, it seems that men tend to exaggerate their sexual knowledge or activity because of a macho stance, and that women tend to be reticent about sex-ual activity because of fear, shame, or a sense of propriety. Johnson stressed that there have been three significant statis-tical studies Of sexuality and sexual behavior in the United States: David L. Fleming SJ is editor of this journal. March-dlrri12000 . Fleming ¯ Discerning Our Celibate Way the Kinsey studies in the 1950s, a much smaller but somewhat more sophisticated study at the beginning of the 1990s, and the apparently best-balanced report from the mid 1990s. From these reports we learn something about behavior patterns in our times. When certain reported behaviors surprise or shock our own sense of morality and that of our church, we must be careful that our first response is not to deny the evidence. Once we take note of that caution, what might we observe about the value and living of celibate chastity as reported in our contemporary culture? In the current U.S. culture, we have widespread evidence that sexual activity is no longer considered to be restricted to marriage. Because of the easy avail~ibility of contraceptive pills and condoms, sexual activity is no longer tied to the possibility of pregnancy; rather, it is considered just one more among desirable and plea-surable human activities. A more frightening result of this atti-tude equating sexual activity with recreational pleasure is the easy and frequent acceptance of abortion. We are not surprised that in the reporting of behaviors we note a true gender gap. Men readily report that the woman is a consensual partner, whereas women indicate that they feel pres-sured or coerced by the male. Statistics, then, provide evidence of a gender gap, especially in reading the other sex's behavior signals. In our culture there is a great deal of confusion around the terms intimacy and sexuality. Often the two are identified. But sex-uality can be acted out with little sense of intimacy. Intimacy, on the other hand, does not need to be expressed sexually. Young peo-ple, especially, are looking for intimacy and use sexuality as its mistaken route. Studies give evidence of this behavior pattern. What does celibacy or celibate chastity mean to people in our U.S. culture? It is evident that the celibate vocation is not esteemed or looked upon as a kind of ideal. Rather, in our times, it more readily signifies, especially for large numbers of young adults, sexual dysfunction or pedophiliac tendencies or stunted personality growth. We must be aware, then, that our contem-porary culture has little regard for chastity or celibacy. Its sign value has to be significantly rethought and expressed anew in order to be seen and understood for what it is and what we who live it want it to be. In his turn, Keith Clark OFMCap presented a contemporary picture of the meaning and living of chastity and celibacy. Chastity is the pursuit of consistent behaviors--for marriage, one set of Review for Religious behaviors, and for those professing celibate chastity, another set of behaviors. We need to look at the sexual makeup of the animal species, acknowledge the commonalities we have as human beings, and then carefully pay attention to how we humans go beyond the reproductive drive and mating seasons common to the animal species. We realize our human need for insight into sexual behav-ior and for our exercise of freedom in regard to it. Once again we note that there is the human need for intimacy and that this is not identical with genital activity. Clark stated clearly his notion of celibacy. "A celibate life well lived is the pursuit of intimacy, sexual fulfillment, in ways which do not include romantic and genital pur-suits." Celibacy as a Christian vocation means that we pursue a way of loving people, not because we are so urged or driven, but because people are deserv-ing of love. They are children of God. Both presentations stressed the importance of "norms" for appropriate behaviors in living celibate chastity in a community or group lifestyle. Cultures as large as an ethnic group and as small as a particular religious congregation have developed their own parameters for acceptable behaviors in connection with the affectio~is. These cultures get expressed in norms that guide the consistent behavior of group members. Members of a group have a responsibility to observe the norms expected of participants. We who live celibate lives as members of a priestly order or as members of a religious congregation need to have norms that are agreed as guides for the behavior expected of the whole group. After looking at our contemporary culture with the help of Johnson and getting, with Clark's guidance, a sense of a con-temporary expression of lived celibate chastity, we focus now on the word discern, which is meant to be the connective between the two terms. How do we discern the living of celibate chastity in our culture? What is it to discern? I believe that celibacy, properly under-stood, has a necessary connection with the ability to discern. Celibacy or celibate chastity understood in a Christian manner is a way of loving, a way of relating to others. It is not enough to Members of a group have a responsibility to observe the norms expected of participants. March~April 2000 Fleming ¯ Discerning Our Celibate Way say that celibacy means not being married or that to be chaste means just not engaging in or enjoying sexual activity. It is not enough to equate celibacy with a certain ritual purity. To limit our chastity ideal to these kinds of description fixes us in a pagan or pre-Christian understanding. Sad to say, many older explanations about the vow of chastity, and some contemporary ones too, could well have been written by a good pagan. Celibacy cannot be ade-quately defined in terms of what it is not or what it lacks. Celibacy is understood and lived in terms of what it is and does. Celibate chastity describes a way of loving, loving the way that Jesus loved. Because celibacy is a way of loving, there is a true sense that we are always growing in our life of loving celibately. We cannot lose our chastity; we never "had" it so that we could lose it. We are always growing into being a chaste lover, a lover like Christ. We grow in our loving chastely, or we find ourself becoming less of a chaste lover. We make choices of behaviors that enhance our life-direction (which is meant to be a growing more and more to love as Jesus loves), or we find ourself slipping (all too humanly, through selfishness or focus on self) into more and more limited ways of loving. We do not need to be a loving person to make a decision. Individualism rampant in U.S. culture is the seedbed of a lot of decision making. Even in religious life we sometimes hear glowing reports about the new growth in our understanding of the vow of obedience based on human decision making. We say that we have moved from a kind of infantile dependence to a relationship where authority's only role is to support the individual's decision. Yet, if we understood how obedience and chastity are intertwined, and that discernment is not possible where love is not involved, then we might not be so self-satisfied with our own share in the indi-vidualistic decision making often observable in religious life. Evaluated from a religious point of view, personal decision making is not deserving of praise if love of God has had no play in it. Discernment and obedience can be understood and practiced only by one who loves. Perhaps questions about authority/obedience are more about the love quality of religious life than about respon-sible decision making. When people make decisions about sexual activity, they can decide to use this person for their pleasure. They can decide that treating someone in this sex-object way is what pleases them. What they want to do and what feels good decides their choices in this Review for Religious typical American individualistic stance. People live as though they are the center of their world, and this stance acts as the foundation of their choices. In order to discern, however, we need to be a loving person, one who lives in an expansive (always open to other people's inter-ests) world. People who are caught up in an individualistic way of thinking and acting are incapable of making a discernment. Why? Because discernment is a sensitive listening to God speaking to us through interior movements, that is, feelings and inspirations. Discernment is a lover's instinct. Probably most of us have had the expe-rience of this kind of interior commu-nication between ourself and a close friend. No words are spoken, but a lot gets communicated. When persons are dear to us, we know what pleases them and what annoys them. We listen, not to any externally spoken words, but to the person, and we can respond instinctively--if we are people who love. ls this kind of sensitivity, so familiar to us in our human loves, possible between God and ourself?. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, it has always been recog-nized that discernment is a gifting of God. St. Paul identifies dis-cernment as a special gift to members of the Christian community through Christ's sending of the Spirit. A number of holy men and women have shared their insights into the gift of discernment, how to pray for it, how to grow as a discerning person, and how to make a decision-making process a true discernment. St. Ignatius Loyola especially is renowned for the practical application of dis-cernment procedures for an understanding of What spirit is mov-ing us and for a method of coming to a decision through such a discernment of spirits. Discernment is about making practical life-dealing decisions not just with prayerful prudence, but with our will attuned to the will of God our Father. We are trying to love the way Jesus loved. Jesus prayed a lot; he prayed in order to deepen his relationship with God and so to express his love. The dialogue of prayer is a dialogue of love. Prayer is not discernment, but without prayer there is no discernment. Why? Because discernment is a grace given to a lover. VCe see it clearly in Jesus. Discernment marks Jesus' choices. In the crisis moment in Gethsemane, Jesus in agony Discernment remains always a gift, a growing in a lover's sensitivity. 143- Marcia-April 2000 Fleming ¯ Discerning Our Celibate Way pours out his prayer and in love can say, "Not my will, but yours be done." One who loves has a sense of, a feel for, what pleases the one who is loved. To be a discerning person means that we must be a free person: free of self-will, free of prejudice, free of being locked into doing what is expected (to be accepted, to save face, and so on). We see this freedom in Jesus. Discernment remains always a gift, a growing in a lover's sensitivity, just as Jesus grew in his sen-sitivity to his Father's will up to the end: "Into your hands, I com-mend my spirit." In other words, we never just "have" discernment, as it were, as our possession. We need always to acknowledge dis-cernment as a dynamic grace or gift. As Jesus' special gifting of the Spirit to us, his followers, discernment is always to be rever-enced, esteemed, and lived in our choices. Discernment affects our living of celibate chastity on three levels: (1) the body or the physical, being at home with our sexual makeup; (2) the soul or the psychological, being at home with our affections; and (3) the spirit or the spiritual, being at home with God. Let me develop each of these levels. 1. As people who are trying to love as Jesus loves, we need to love our own incarnation, that is, we must love our own bodili-ness. Acceptance of our sexuality helps us to be like Jesus. For Jesus was sexual and celibate and a man who loved. Jesus is so much at home with his body that he keeps it with him forever. And that is his promise of resurrection for us. To be at home with our body, then, is a Christian attitude to grow in and to deepen. We make the choice to love the body that God gave us. In our culture we know how much we try to run from or deny the failings connected with bodiliness, for example, the whole process of aging. With a cul-ture that wallows in sexuality, especially its genital aspects, we may think that our countercultural stance should be to run from or deny our own sexuality in order to bd the good celibate. But our Christian viewpoint sees sexuality and the way it shapes our relat-ing and our loving, all our life long, as a gift of God to us. Living in gratitude for God's gift, we find that being at home with our own body is the only way for us to love as Jesus loves. 2. We celibates must also be at home with our affectivity. There is no such thing as loving in the abstract; we love the flesh-and- blood people that come into our lives. To love in general is not to love at all. Yet, when we try to love the people that God brings into our life, we find difficulties with the way they dress, the way they talk, even the way they sexually attract us or not. I have always Review for Religious admired the healthy quality of the bawdiness found in Chaucer or in Shakespeare as representative of the peoples of their times. We--especially people vowed to chastity--need to laugh at our affective responses sometimes so embarrassing to us and so little under our control. We may even be surprised at a sexual response we feel in prayer or even at communion time. This is the moment to recall that we are God's creation, enfleshed, with all its humor, distress, and bedazzlement. We thank him for being the ones in whom he delights. We need to give over anew the whole of our life to God and so not let our discerning focus get distracted on self. Always we as celibates--a unit of body, soul, and spirit--need to own and not to deny our affections. We must be in touch with how affective or not we are naturally, from family upbringing, community customs, and ethnic culture. Whatever the limits of what we have inherited, we--growing by the grace of our celibate calling as sensitive lovers--gradually learn how to make various appropriate adaptations. Does Jesus ever seem frozen in the face of others' affective love, whether expressed by Mary Magdalen or by the beloved disciple? Think of John lean-ing on Jesus' chest at the Last Supper or of Mary Magdalen's fierce bearhug in the resurrection garden scene. Growing always in a lover's sensitivity is especially to be valued by a vowed celibate who desires to relate affectively to all. Married couples teach each other how to make love all their lives long. We as celibates must keep our eyes on Jesus in order to keep growing in our way of loving. Our prayer should lead us deeply into the Gospels so that Jesus keeps teaching us how to love. Our being affective people, or not, affects our ministry. In fact, there is little exaggeration in saying that ministry without. affectivity is useless in terms of evangelization. We may be able to do "good things," but for what.purpose if we do not touch peo-ple with love from a God who is Love? 3. We Catholics are fortunate because we understand that God loves us in affective ways. Our Scriptures, our sacraments, our prayers speak out God's way of loving us in the most tender of human expressions. Even more, God loves us in intimate ways. This good news we bear in our very persons as loving celibates: We as celibates must keep our eyes on Jesus in order to keep growing in our way of loving. March-April 2000 Fleming * Discerning Our Celibate Way God wants to be intimate with us. Our spiritual life is a life of love, intimate love with God. Two examples from Scripture bring this fact home to us. I am indebted to the late Father Carroll Stuhmueller CP for his long-time insistence on the meaning of the Hebrew word rahamin. In the Old Testament, especially in the prophetic writings, God is often described in English translation as merciful, tender-hearted, or compassionate. These words attempt to signify the meaning of rabamin. The Hebrew word seems best understood in this way: the feeling that a mother has for the child in, and of, her womb. God wants us to know that the relationship he has to each of us is like the feeling a mother has for the child of her womb. What is this feeling? Is it pity or mercy? No, it is one of pride and 10ve for the child of the womb. That is how God feels towards us. God loves us and takes pride in us. We cannot deny the intimacy of this Hebrew word. That kind of intimacy God claims towards us. We celibates are meant to find a home in this love. In a more theological way I would like to reflect upon the word covenant. Perhaps we are familiar with the covenants of Middle Eastern people of whom the Israelites were a part. A covenant is an agreement between two parties (usually unequal), and the expectation involves certain ways of acting toward each. Covenant is a central theme of the relationship between God and his chosen people. The biblical covenant that God established was marked according to the Semitic cultural tradition by the ritual of killing an animal and sprinkling its blood upon the altar (rep-resenting God) and upon the Israelite p.eople. The blood was a symbol of life, not death; the sprinkling of blood on the altar and on the people signified the familial union. The action said: We share the same blood. When Jesus on the night before he died wanted to establish a new covenant, he retained the same symbol: blood. But it is his own blood that Jesus gives, his flesh for our food and his blood for our drink. This blood is life-giving and makes us who feed on his Body and his Blood belong to the same bloodline as God. Jesus could not make it any clearer that we truly are brothers and sisters to one another; we share the same blood, Jesus' blood, the blood of the Son of God. We call upon Jesus truly as our brother, and together with him we call God Abba-Father. The reality of this new covenant is an intimacy of unity, Jesus God bringing us into the very life of the Trinity. As celibates, day after day in our Review for Religious Eucharist we come forward with hands stretched our to receive and to be taken in by the most intimate love of God, a God embracing us into the divine life of love. What distinguishes us who are called to a life of celibate chastity? We are called to a special way of loving. When we celi-bates are truly at home with our bodies (with our sexuality), with our affections (with our soul), and with our spirit (God's Spirit, now ours), we are free to be the discerning people who, in a sex-ually confused culture, live God's invitation to celibate chastity peacefully, happily, and apostolically. The Silence That Is Not Silence at All Unobtrusive as dawn, the lake balances perfectly between East and West. An early hiker rounds the corner, headset clamped on. Juncoes tsk tsk and give way. Starlings catcall. Merganser, all white hood, skims a straight arrow line, alights with a velvet swoosh pursues prey through clear water soundless. Lichen stained alders circle the shore, haloed with smudges of alizarin catkins. Aments upon aments. A Lent retreatant, I come for the annual fast from stimulation, rededicate to silence or at least to the diminishment of stimulants. Make way for tumult. Here are the Big Ego geese. Indignant honking, they want to be noticed. Chest beating, a squall of identity. Hannah J. Main-van der Karnp March-April 2000 147 --- JUSTIN TAYLOR AND ALBERT DIIANNI What Is Religious Life's Purpose? For thirty-five years since Vatican Council II, we have constantly ?asked questions about identity: What does it mean to be a religious, a monk, a Dominican, a Jesuit, a Marist? It might then seem superfluous to ask about the purpose of religious life. But it is our conviction that pre-cisely this question must receive a more adequate answer before we can come to proper conclusions about how to structure our religious life and truly renew its spirit. The main goal of religious life is to place God at the center of our lives. That is the meaning of religious consecration, and it is best symbolized in the vow of chastity, in which we make a gift of our very hearts to God. Religious consecration is all about the service and worship of God, about affective and effective love of God for God's sake. Religious life is a way of being with ¯ God that takes the form of a gift and an act of worship. It evokes the image of St. Francis lying prostrate on the ground throughout the night calling out repeatedly, "My God and my all,." In other words, religious life needs to Justin Taylor SM, a Marist priest from New Zealand who resides at the Ecole Biblique in Jerusalem, does teaching and writing on biblical topics and on spirituality. Albert DiIanni SM wrote for us in 1993 and 1996; his address is Marist Vocation Office; 27 Isabella Street; Boston, Massachusetts 02116. Review for Religious be religious, and this means that it must be theocentric. Religion can be about many things, but first and foremost, as Hegel said, "religion is about God." This may seem to go without saying. But we are saying it and stressing it because we all tend to substitute something else for the love of God. Nothing else will do, not even love of neighbor. The question we ask is: Have we not, long before Vatican II and after it as well, tended to substitute--for a focus on the glory and love of God--either a personal ascetical spirituality or a social morality? We grant, of course, that both morality and asceticism find their place in religion, but we maintain, too, that religion cannot be totally or even primarily reduced to them. Could it be that this tendency to substitute something for religion--whether it be self-improvement or the improvement of other individuals, society, and the world--is what underlies the malaise we currently perceive in religious life? We stress that this problem does not arise out of Vatican II. It already existed before Vatican II and may have caused what the council had to say about religious life to be misunderstood. It is a problem that lies deeper than the distinction between traditional-ists and so-called "change-oriented" religious. Both of these groups, as we shall see, may have given way to the very same error. In her recent book The Fire in These Ashes, Joan Chittister insists that the sole purpose of religious life is "only to seek God" (p. 45). She writes: "We have too often been seduced., by other explanations for religious life, all of them valuable and all of them true to a certain degree. We have sought to be 'relevant.' We have set out to be 'incarnational.' . We have given ourselves untiringly to the 'option for the poor.' We have devoted our-selves to 'the transformation of social structures.' We have evan-gelized and renewed and revised and reformed until we dropped from exhaustion. And all of those commitments are good and necessary and worthy of attention. But, through it all, one thing and one thing only can sustain religious life, can nourish reli-gious life, can justify religious life: The religious must be the person who first and foremost, always and forever, in whatever circumstance, seeks God and God alone, seeks God and God alone in all of this confusion, in all of this uncertainty and, what-ever the situation, seeks God--and God alone." She concludes: "Otherwise, religious life is just one more social institution to be succeeded by social institutions after it, rather than centers March-April 2000 149 Taylor and Dilanni ¯ Reli~ous Life's Purpose of contemplation where, we can hope, the mind of God can touch the mind of humanity" (p. 47). "A center of contemplation where the mind of God can touch the mind of humanity"--is this not a beautiful definition of reli-gious life? For Joan Chittister, contemplation of God is the pri-mary center and focus of religious life. But she is not thinking of a selfish, isolated sort of contemplation cut off from society or the world. Rather, for her, contemplation of God has an effect upon the mind of humanity, changes it and urges it to become engaged in the task of approximating the kingdom of God on earth in works of peace and justice, especially in favor of the poor and the marginalized. This call to contemplation, which is now being stressed by many authors, indicates that the crisis of religious life is deeper than people think. It is rooted in a crisis of faith. By this we mean that there has been a change not only in the depth and intensity of our faith, but also in its actual content. And this is hardly new. It has been present in the church for a long time, as attested by Henri Bremond in his Histoire litteraire du sentiment religieux en France, a magisterial eleven-volume study of mysticism in France in the 17th century. Bremond did not write with a view to commenting on religious life in the 20th century, but his volumes are full of relevant insights. Bremond (an ex-Jesuit turned diocesan) keeps coming back to one particular issue: Why, throughout the period of which he writes, was the Jesuit mainstream in France especially, antimystical? Why, with the notable exception of Louis Lallemant and his school, did the Jesuits begin to focus their spirituality more and more away from God and more and more toward the human? In the course of his writing, Bremond suggests some more or less peripheral reasons, but in the end he expresses a suspicion that the Jesuits, even in the 17th century, were intuitively sensing a crisis of faith. They were sniffing the presence of an incipient atheism in their contemporaries and perhaps in their own hearts. They were beginning to fear, at least subconsciously, that the pure love of God as the chief reason for a devout life was not going to motivate people of their time and place much longer. This, suggests Bremond, is the reason why they felt the need to recommend prayer not so much as adoration and thanksgiving before God, but especially as a means of growth in virtue, a means to inoral and ascetical self-improvement, a way to ensure one's personal eternal salvation. Review for Religious It is clear that this crisis of faith is not restricted to the Society of Jesus in the time of which Bremond writes. The same crisis has continued in a perhaps even stronger fashion in the 20th century. Both before and after Vatican II, religious have tended to recom-mend religious life to the world--and perhaps to themselves--in terms of what it could "do for" themselves or for others. Religious life was considered legitimate and desirable because it was useful, however that usefulness might be conceived, whether in terms of a surer way for the individual to attain tleaven or in terms of a service to society. Both of these stances, however, place religion and religious life on a less-than- full theocentric plane. Viewed in this way, the crisis of faith did not begin in the post-Vatican II era. It was in full swing well before the 1960s, but at that time social and ecclesial structures and a gen-eral feeling of success (at something) kept people going. Once those supports were taken away or seri-ously weakened, its real proportions were revealed. It has been said that, before Vatican II, religious used to "skip the world" and focus too heavily on our individual other-worldly salvation. This is a legitimate criticism if properly understood. To the extent that there was overemphasis on our individ-ual otherworldly salvation, religious life was already ¯ anthropocentric or egocentric, and not theocentric. For a program of self-improvement, even in view of obtaining eternal life, is not specifically Christian, but broadly Stoic. The concentration on obtaining eternal life even became obsessive for a number of people, and priests in confessionals encountered peo-ple so absorbed in themselves and their salvation that they became paralyzed by scrupulosity. For this and for other reasons, an under-standable dissatisfaction set in with regard to a form of devout life whose focal point was one's own perfection. Unfortunately, however, the remedy that was often prescribed compounded the ailment. In line with the self-improvement ten-dencies, the constitutions of many religious congregations before Vatican II propounded a twofold goal for religious life: saving one's own soul and saving the souls of others. After Vatican II, the notion of salvation was expanded beyond an eschatological salvation to include also, and at times almost exclusively, the liberation of peo-ples or the social betterment of humankind. Neither of these This call to contemplation indicates that the crisis of religious life is deeper than people think. I51-- March-April 2000 Taylor and Dilanni ¯ Religious Life's Purpose focuses, however, whether on personal improvement and salva-tion or on social liberation, is properly religious in the sense of having to with the worship and love of God. Neither of them makes God the pivotal center of our lives. If this is true, where should we seek the remedy? If there has been a shift in our faith in this century and before, what then should be the content of our faith? We believe that the religious hunger is ultimately the hunger for transcendence or, more con-cretely, the hunger for God. It is a hunger which, in fact, is often felt most keenly by the poor. The world points to something beyond the world: its Author. Our first response to the world must be gratitude toward the author of that world--paying homage to God. Religious are called to be involved totally with God, to be bridges to others to enable them, not to negate this world, but to transcend it and reach God. The world is extremely important-- the Word became incarnate for the sake of the world--but in itself it is still not enough for us, us of the restless heart. In whatever manner we decide to refashion religious life, we must not lose this central insight, which is at the heart of the religious quest. The "kingdom of God" promoted by the Jesus of the synoptic Gospels certainly demands an effort on our part to improve the world, but it also involves a transcending of the world, and this transcen-dence will consist, as always, in union with God. In fact, without such a reference to the Transcendent, it is questionable whether an urgency to improve the world has sufficient meaning. Again, with Joan Chittister, "The religious must be the person who., seeks God, and God alone" and--we could add, with Vita consecrata (§3, §20)--helps other members of the church in their search for God. It is in this latter task of spurring others on to transcendence that some form of identifying religious garb has its importance. St. Thomas Aquinas asks why religious congregations are called "religious." Our reflections thus far have perhaps prepared us to understand and receive his answer: "Religion is the virtue by which we perform the service and worship of God. Hence, reli-gious are so called because they dedicate themselves totally to the service of God, as if offering God a whole-burnt sacrifice" (Summa theologiae, 2a-2ae, q. 186, a. 1). Here Thomas speaks of a "virtue of religion," a kind of habit. This habit of mind, heart, and action has to be part and parcel of every genuine approach to God, for it is basically about awe in the presence of the "tremendous and fas-cinating mystery." "This tremendous lover" is what Francis Review for Religious Thompson called Christ, and the adjective is striking. It refers to a lover who fills us not with fear but with awe. Our response to God is one of wonder, adoration, and gratitude in the face of a Love that bends down to us, a love that is gratuitous and that we did not merit. What makes religious life distinct from other forms of Christian life (granted that there is no complete cut-off, but many a gradation) is that it is a way of life which is organized and centered on the.service and worship and love of God and which would make no sense on any other terms. From a worldly point of view, it might even be called a useless life; it is worthless except to the eyes of faith. We believe, with Vita consecrata, that chastity is at the heart of the matter. Chastity is the baseline of religious consecration, not primarily a way of being freed for ministry, although it is also that. Through it we consecrate to God our hearts and our sexual-ity, our capacity to love and be loved, and our capacity for repro-ducing ourselves and so assuring a sort of afterlife. It is therefore the point at which the service and the love of God meet in the center of the consecrated person. Religion, as a virtue, is not the same as charity, so that serving and worshiping God are not specifically the same as loving God. But the two are very close, and both are needed. Without love, religion quickly becomes fanaticism; without awe before God, love can be too facile and presumptuous. In the golden age of French spirituality in the first half of the 17th century, the great masters differ a little on where they place the emphasis, St. Francis de Sales placing it on love and Pierre de B~rulle on religion. In any case, they agree that religious life is essentially theocentric. St. Thomas's "whole-burnt sacrifice" strikes the note of throwing all of oneself into a life given to God in a fire of generosity. Abandoning calculation and self-service, a person stakes all on the single-hearted quest of God, and God alone. That is a goal in the pursuit of which a life is well lived and the world well lost. The above remarks raise at least two questions about love of God which require some discussion. We are speaking of a "pure love of God." But is it possible to love God selflessly, for God alone, and not for ourselves? Not in the sense that I could leave myself totally out of any act of the will: whatever I will, I will also as my own good. But it is possible in the sense that there can be a degree of selfless love in an act of the will, and that this selfless love can grow in future acts. In praying I make all sorts of different March~April 2000 Taylor and Dilanni ¯ Religtous'ous L~Life's Purpose "acts," including petition for myself and others. But what makes prayer (any prayer) true prayer, and love of God true love, is that overriding everything else is the love of God for God's sake, the willing of God's good, and the ultimate submission of my will to God's. And that is "pure love." Note that this is not something rare and extraordinary. Selfless love is part of every authentic human love. It is part of the Lord's Prayer, where we say: "Hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done." In any genuine human love, I will love the beloved without thinking of my own good and even, at times, to my apparent detriment. M1 lovers would deny the name of "love" to a mere desire to get their own satisfaction. In every true love there is selfless devotion toward the beloved, that is, "pure love," some-where. And selfless devotion, it seems, has always been the touch-stone of a religious life properly lived. The second question concerns the relation between the two commandments of love of God and love of neighbor. Above we wrote that not even love of the neighbor can be substituted for love of God. Love of the neighbor does not replace love of God; it does not even, strictly speaking, express love of God. God is to be loved for God's sake. On the other hand, love of the neighbor is the acid test of the genuineness of our love of God. St. John's for-mulation could not be bettered: "Those who say, 'I love God,' and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen cannot love God whom they have not seen" (1 Jn 4:20 NRSV). To remove all excuse for illusion on this topic, the Letter of James (2:15-16 NRSV) affirms th~it a mere sentiment of goodwill is not enough: "If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace, keep warm, and eat your fill,' and yet you do not supply them their bodily needs, what is the good of that?" If love of the neighbor is not a substitute for love of God, the reverse is also true. Loving God does not give us an excuse for not loving our brothers and sisters, really and concretely. Christians are called to live for the glory of God and not pri-marily for their own good, not even for their own salvation here or in eternity. The emphasis has to be on the primacy of the love of God. The truth is, however, that the more genuinely we love God, the deeper and more effective will be our love of neighbor, especially the poor and the unloved. The great lovers of God--that is to say, the saints--have been those who have done. most in the Review for Religious way of love and service of their brothers and sisters. There is no risk that following the call to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind will distract us from serving others or from working for justice in the world. Rather, when we go to God, we find One who loves justice and who is on the side of the poor and the weak. This God demands that we too pursue justice and come to the aid of the needy. In loving God we go outside of ourselves in a radical way. We encounter the transcendent Being who loves the created world and invites us to become active within it. There is no competition between the two commandments of love, but rather reciprocity. If love of the neigh-bor is the acid test of love of God, love of God overflows into love of neigh-bor and makes it truly love. For jus-tice without love may quickly become tyranny, while mere "humanitarian-ism" may become bureaucratic, offi-cious, and quite unloving. On the other hand, love of God makes love of neighbor tenderhearted, generous, and selfless. For, in our living communion with God, we discover that God loves us all and that for this reason we must love others and strive to bring peace and justice into the world. What is.the upshot of all this? What does it mean in practical terms? If all this is true, it may mean that the ongoing renewal of religious life needs to be reviewed. It may mean that we must go back to the drawing board and ask ourselves whether we have made changes on the basis of an inadequate notion of the purpose of religious life. It may mean that, while many good things have occurred in terms of a structural renewal of our lives, the spiri-tual renewal is yet to begin--one that may cause us to take a sec-ond look at those structures. Our structures of prayer, our living of the vows, and our community life must be fashioned so that, primarily, they foster our love for God. To achieve this we must grapple with this question: .Are we perhaps in need of a shift in our faith, one that moves away from the many forms of anthro-pocentrism of the last few centuries, and centers religious life more directly on the pure love of God? Chastity is the point at which the service and the love of God meet in the center of the consecrated person. March-April 2000 KENNETH C. RUSSELL Must Hermits Work? Maust hermits work to earn their living? Must they leave side their regime of silence and prayer to earn money, even though this is a Catch-22 situation, with solitude calling them away from society and work drawing them back into it? By taking a job, manufacturing a product, or providing a service, they trou-ble themselves with any number of people so as to have enough income to get away from people and indulge their own hermit's desire to be alone and untroubled. Are they not then better off depending on some form of fixed income, on the largess of the religious congregations to which they may belong, or on the charity of the faithful? It would seem so. But is this kind of dependence legitimate? What does the his-tory of the eremitical life in the Western church say about this? How do the principal texts on the solitary life deal with the eco-nomic, psychological, and spiritual aspects of work? What features remain constant in the tradition? What shifts take place? In this brief overview, which makes no claim to be complete, we begin with the teachings of the pioneers in the Egyptian desert as these are recorded in the alphabetical collection of Sayings of the Desert Fathers and in John Cassian's Institutions and Conferences. We then turn our attention to a few representative medieval texts, primarily from the 12th century, a period marked by a widespread revival of the eremitical life. Kenneth C. Russell last wrote for us in November-December 1998. His address remains 40 Landry Street, Apt. 1505; Vanier, Ontario; t~6~ K1L 8K4 Canada. Review for Religious The Sayings of the Desert Fathers Although the classical picture of the hermits in the Egyptian desert as hardscrabble peasants used to a tough life has been chal-lenged of late, it seems clear that, whatever the truth about their social status and educational background, they earned their keep by the work of their hands. The Sayings tell us that the solitaries plaited ropes (Sayings 184, 39), made baskets (105, 1) and hired themselves out as laborers to bring in the harvest (82, 47; 191, 2).' At least one monk strung necklaces of small dried peas to pay for his food. We are told that Abba Serinus spent his time harvest-ing, sewing, and weaving (191, 2). The monks worked because they had to. They did not share the conviction of the excessively spiritual groups of the time that considered work to be below the dignity of those called to per-petual prayer. Several stories seem to satirize the "angelic" atti-tude of these Messalians, as they were called. One concerns Abba John the Dwarf, a prominent desert figure, who in his youth announced to his brother his intention of living a carefree life of ceaseless prayer like the angels who do no work. After a week he was back knocking on his brother's door, hungry and begging to be let in. When this brother, in no hurry to admit him, got around to answering the door, he told young John: "You are a man and you must once again work in order to eat" (73, 2). The same point is driven home in the story of a monk who, while visiting a small eremitical community, sees the brothers working hard and cautions their leader, Abba Silvanus, not to seek "the food which perishes" (John 6:27). Silvanus allows him to spend the day reading, but does not summon him to dinner. When the hungry monk asks why he was not called, the elder answers: "Because you are a spiritual man and do not need that kind of food. We, being carnal, want to eat, and that is why we work" (187, 5). In these words of practical economy, it is obvious that work not only feeds the monk but keeps him grounded in the real-ity of the world and human nature. The Egyptian hermits lived apart from society, but they were not disconnected from the larger world. A brother was advised by Abba Poemen to do some manual labor "so as to be able to give alms" (148, 69). This readiness "to work for charity's sake" (87, 4) also set the Egyptian monks apart from the Messalians or Euchites, who regarded themselves as the most fitting recipients of any handouts. March-April 2000, Russell * Must Hermits In one story some Euchite monks answer Abba Lucius's query about what kind of work they do by announcing, rather smugly it seems, that they do not touch manuhl labor, but obey Paul's instruc-tion to pray without ceasing. Lucius asks how perpetual their prayer can really be if they must interrupt it to eat or sleep. For his part he demonstrates that work and prayer are not incompatible and shows how his charity toward the poor fills the gaps in his own prayer schedule. "When I have spent the whole day working and praying, making thirteen pieces of money more or less, I put two pieces of money outside the door and I pay for my food with the rest of the money. He who takes the two pieces of money prays for me when I am eating and when I am sleeping" (102, 1).2 But work that enables a monk to support himself and make a contribution to the well-being of others can also prove a distraction. What is supposed to support the spiritual life can become an end in itself (64, 10). It can assume an importance it does not deserve (44, 1 I). This is surely why Abba Silvanus threatens to leave his little community when his disciples and some other brothers move the fence to enlarge the garden (188, 8). This story also implies that at some point work becomes a guarantee of security, which challenges the hermit's dependence on divine providence. Abba Serinus, who worked at a number of tasks, avoided this trap by insisting that "in all these employments, if the hand of God had not sustained me, I should not have been fed" (191, 2). In the same vein, Silvanus is confident that as long as he does his part God will provide (188, 9). Given the tendency of work to become a goal in itself, it is not surprising that when a monk asks Abba Biare what he must do to be saved, the elder advises him to reduce his appetite, dwell in his cell, and reduce his quota of manual work (37, 1). Any kind of work can upset a hermit's life if it assumes too great a place in it. But certain kinds of work were regarded as essentially distracting. Agriculture per se was considered an exte-riorizing activity that draws a monk's attention away from God. Even the gardening that is mentioned in the Sayings was suspect. It was, at best, on the borderline of the acceptable. When Abba Silvanus had to water the garden his disciple usually cared for, he hid his face lest the sight of the trees should distract him (187, 4). Underlying what we have seen so far concerning the eremit-ical understanding of work is the conviction that a monk should pay his own way and contribute to some extent to the welfare of oth-ers. But neither of these obligations demands that all monks must Review for Relig4ous work. Some monks, surely, had the means to sustain their life with-out daily labor. A number of these could probably count on the support of their relatives and friends. Would this modest support not give them more time to pray and meditate? Is there not a mod-icum of good sense even in the extremist position of the Messalians? Why is work itself so important? We must note, first of all, that living on any form of income other than daily labor is explicitly rejected in the Sayings. A monk who is disturbed by the haggling involved in selling his wares asks one of the senior monks whether he may give up work if he finds another means to survive. The elder replies: "Even if you do have what you need by other means, do not give up your manual work" (168, 1). The monk is instructed, in fact, to work as hard as he can. The "word" given here is exemplified in the story of Abba Achilles, who edifies his visitors when they discover that he has been working and meditating all night. "From yesterday evening till now, I have woven twenty mea-sures, although I do not need it; but it is for fear God should be angry and accuse me, saying, 'Why did you not work when you could have done so?' That is why I give myself to this labor and do as much as I can" (25, 5). The Sayings generally do not emphasize the noneconomic value of manual labor. They do, however, present work as a basic element of a hermit's life. When Abba Poemen holds up one of the elders as an example, he observes that "in Abba Pambo we see three bodily activities: abstinence from food until the evening every day, silence, and much manual work" (158, 150). When Poemen lays out the basics of the eremitical life for an inquirer, he begins by saying that "living in your cell clearly means manual work" (160, 168). We know then that, according to the Sayings, work is an asceti-cal activity linked with meditation which should not be set aside even if other means of support are available. It seems clear, how-ever, that manual labor was so tightly tied to economic survival in the experience of most Egyptian solitaries that they felt no need to reflect in depth on the role it played in their lives. It was simply a fundamental but unobtrusive activity of their uncomplicated regime. To get a deeper insight into the role that work plays in Any kind of work can upset a hermit's life if it assumes too great a place in it. 159 March-April 2000 R~ssell * Must Her~nits Work? the eremitical life, we must turn to the elaborations on life in the desert which John Cassian offers us in his Institutions and Conferences. --- 160 Cassian's Institutions and Conferences The presence of Messalians (Syriac for "those who pray" but do not work) is more strongly felt in John Cassian's writings than in the Sayings. The need for daily work seems, therefore, to be less the plain, indisputable fact of life it is in the Sayings and more a deliberate option. Cassian takes Paul the Apostle as the exemplar of work. If Paul, who had the right to live off his mission, worked, how can monks refrain from doing so? Paul worked, Cassian notes, not for the sake of introducing some healthy variety into his life, but to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow even though he might have lived off his savings or from offerings received from others (Institutions 10.8; p. 270).3 Since Cassian uses Paul's injunction to the Thessalonians to work with their hands and to be at peace (1 Th 4:11), it is clear that he sees manual labor as an antidote to distraction (10.7; p. 269). Work concentrates the mind and shuts out external noise. It lifts the individual above the turmoil of the emotions. This is so important to John Cassian that he connects a story illustrating this point to St. Anthony himself. Anthony, we are told, was challenge'd by a brother who argued that his own life was superior to the discipline of the desert. He lived near his rel-atives, benefited from their support, and so was able to give all his time to prayer and reading. Anthony countered his claim to be free of care by showing that he was, in fact, emotionally tied to the economic ups and downs of his supporters. Anthony goes on to say that "this most lukewarm condition [is] depriving you of the fruit of your own hands and the just reward of your labor" (Conferences 24.11.3; p. 833).4 Once again Paul's example is put forward as the ideal. It is his example, Anthony maintains, which compels monks to work. Indeed, were it not for Paul's example, Anthony argues, he and his fellow monks would take the easy route and live off the alms of their relatives. Anthony goes on to chide the healthy monk for living off alms that should by right go to the weak. He then makes an astounding statement which radically opposes the notion that, while others must work, monks are exempt from labor because Review for Religious they pray. He insists, on the contrary, that everyone else in the world relies on the compassion of others, "with the sole exception of the race of monks which, in accordance with the Apostle' s precept, lives by the daily toil of its hands" (Conf24.12.3; p. 834). Anthony reminds us that, according to tradition, the monk gives alms, he does not receive them. In Anthony's opinion, authentic solitaries do not live off their relatives or near them. On the contrary, they flee society and live outside civilization's jurisdiction in the wastelands beyond the fer-tile Nile valley. This withdrawal not only shelters them from the hubbub of village life, but makes farming--the kind of work with which most Egyptian monks were probably familiar--impractical. Cassian regards farming as an unsuitable activity for a monk for several reasons. First, it draws the mind away from the focus on God which should be the monk's principal concern. Second, the fatigue brought on by hard work in the fields drains away the energy a monk needs for his spiritual pursuits (Conf 24.12.4; p. 835).s The third reason, however, is the most important. Not only is farm labor hard, it is also periodic; as a con-sequence, a monk who does this work is at loose ends for long periods of time. Cassian makes this last point evident in the story of some farming monks who grew restless whenever they visited the hermit colony of Skete. They literally could not sit still. Cassian says that they had not learned how to quiet their inner being because they worked outdoors and their thoughts were scattered everywhere by their bodily activity (Conf24.4; p. 828). For John Cassian, therefore; work is primarily associated with the spiritual goal of the monk. The hermit works because work provides the best conditions for prayer. The monk does certain kinds of work because certain tasks can be done day and night, day in and day out, without undue fatigue and without requiring a great deal of attention. The uncomplicated procedures associated with rope making and the like help him to pray. They keep the monk alert and centered so that he is able to resist both sleep and the listlessness and distractedness typical of acedia (Inst 2.12; p. 210). The example of Abba Paul, who had no economic reason to do handwork, shows just how essential Cassian thought manual labor actually was. Abba Paul's basic needs were met by the garden he Authentic solitaries do not live off their relatives or near them. March-April 2000 R~ssell ¯ M~t Hermits Work? tended and the palm trees near by. It seems, in fact, that his idyl-lic little oasis was so far out in the desert that the hermit had no way of getting his wares to market. Nevertheless, he collected palm branches and set himself a daily quota of weaving. At the end of the year he gathered the baskets he had made into a great pile and burned them. Then he started all over again. Abba Paul did not work to feed himself or to provide for the poor. So what was the point of his manual labor? Cassian says that his example proves that a monk can neither stay put nor achieve perfection without manual labor. Abba Paul worked solely to purify his heart, to keep his thoughts on course, to persevere in his cell, and thus to overcome acedia (Inst 10.24; pp. 274-275). In other words, he worked because it steadied and grounded him. The handwork with which he occupied himself night and day while praying centered him in a way that the gardening he did to support his life could not. Work serves prayer as long as it remains a subordinate ele-ment in the monastic regime. But, once a monk begins to think of himself as a "hard worker," he is in danger of feeding his human ambition by measuring his own worth in terms of the profit he makes or the tasks he performs. The monk, in effect, imports the world's notion of success into the desert. Once work itself becomes the goal, it usurps the priority that belongs properly to prayer. This is vividly illustrated in Cassian's tale of an elder who comes upon one of these superachievers wearing himself out try-ing to break up a stubborn boulder. The exhausted hermit thinks he is doing "good work," but the senior monk sees that a demon is urging him on (Confg.6.1-3; pp. 333-334). The point is clear: work that does not serve prayer can turn even the sorry resources of the desert into vehicles of human ambition. Jerome's Letter to Rusticus Before we leave the earliest teaching on the place of work in the eremitical life, we should take note of the list of possible tasks St. Jerome lays out in his letter to Rusticus,a young man on the brink of a monastic vocation.6 Although he counsels Rusticus not to live with his mother, and does mention at one point that by working he will be able to pay for his food, practical necessity is not the principal reason Jerome gives for working. It is primarily a matter of keeping busy and thereby holding the devil at bay. Review for Religious Some of the jobs which Jerome recommends are the familiar crafts of the Egyptian desert: weaving baskets and tending a small garden plot. To these Jerome adds the cultivation and grafting of fruit trees, beekeeping, the weaving of fishing nets, and, signifi-cantly, bookcopying. The copying of manuscripts was, to a great extent, a physical task like the other jobs mentioned. The parchment had to be pre-pared, inks mixed, pens cut, the pages lined, the text written out, and, finally, the manuscript bound. But there was an intellectual dimension to this activity. Jerome mentions that copying texts feeds the mind. He then goes on to remember his own brief stay in the desert when he fought off temptation by working hard to learn Hebrew. We have here, I think, the seeds of a conception of "work" quite different from that of the tradition of the Egyptian desert. We have moved out of the world of small peasant farmers into the cul- ¯ tivated world of the Roman gentleman. Although, while in the desert, Jerome may have earned his keep by some simple hand-work, it is clear that his real work was studying and writing. The same may be said, to some extent, of Cassian. From this time on we see a certain tension between the idea of work as a physical, money-earning activity and work as an intellectual activity for the betterment of the individual. Should someone who can do the higher work lay it aside to do a less spiritual and less humane task for the sake of earning money? Must a hermit work? Are the eremitical life and work in the sweat and blood, money-earning sense of the word compatible? The old question subtly reemerges between the lines, as it were, when Jerome, a man of scholarly inclination, lists the kinds of work suitable for a solitary. Grimlaic's Rule for Solitaries The 9th-10th-century Regula Solitariorum, by Grimlaic, rep-resents a literary dividing line between the Egyptian tradition's insistence that hermits must work to earn their living and the belief that solitaries have the right to turn to others for support.7 After noting the spiritual value of work as a means to. avoid idleness, Grimlaic summons up the example of St. Paul and the Fathers to insist that solitaries must work to support themselves and to help those in need. Indeed, he says that the greater part of the day should March-April 2000 Russell * Must Hermits Work? A hermit's food, drink, and clothing are paid for either by his personal labor or by the offerings of the faithful. be given to "holy work." He has in mind some task which can be performed mechanically while reading or praying.(Regula 39; 629). Grimlaic retells Cassian's story ofAbba Paul, who lived too far out in the desert to make the manufacture of baskets and ropes practical, but who nevertheless set himself a quota of manual work every day. He also borrows from the same source the story of the superspiritual nonworldng monk who was brought down to earth by Abba Silvanus's failure to call him to dinner (39; 630). He further emphasizes the importance of manual labor by laying out the Benedictine schedule of work and accept-ing the principle that, if poverty demands it, more time should be given to labor (40; 631).8 Obviously, there had always been elderly or infirm hermits who were unable to imitate the example of St. Paul "and the holy fathers" which Grimlaic so strongly emphasizes. Nonetheless, it seems to me significant that Grimlaic should undermine his argument by noting that Augustine maintains that the occasions on which Paul himself depended on alms demon-strate that those who are unable to do manual labor may receive their sustenance from others (39; 630). Grimlaic states this principle and then backs away from its implications. He insists that solitaries should work with their own hands even if they have some other means of support (39; 630). The idea that it might be legitimate for solitaries to rely on oth-ers for their keep recurs, however, immediately after Grimlaic defends the importance of work in passages borrowed ~rom Cassian and Benedict. It is no longer an exception to an almost inviolate rule. He simply states that a hermit's food, drink, and clothing are paid for either by his personal labor or by the offerings of the faith-ful (41; 631). He notes that he has demonstrated that it is legiti-mate for solitaries to live off alms. The argument isbased on more than Christian charity toward the needy. Hermits are compared to the priests and levites of the Old Testament, who received tithes so that they might be free to minister to the Lord without the distraction of earthly preoccu-pations (41; 631-632). The Christian clergy, like the ministers of Review for Religious the Old Testament, have nothing of their own, but merely admin-istrate and distribute what they receive from the people. The assimilation of solitaries to the clergy, which was becom-ing more a reality as monasteries were clericalized, is complete in Grimlaic's quotation from a rule for canons in which monks and hermits are said to rightly receive material support from the church because they have followed the evangelical counsel to renounce wealth (41; 632). Without this support they would have to shift their focus from God to the business of securing the necessities of life. But what of the traditional obligation of hermits to help the poor? The Regula Solitariorum deals with this issue by comparing hermits to the apostles in the Jerusalem church. The apostles them-selves owned nothing, but acted as channels through which each of the faithful received what he or she needed. Solitaries are to have the same detachment toward material things and to see to it that the poor share in the offerings which come their way (41; 632). What has happened to the concept of work in this transition from a reference to the fact that the fathers earned their living by the work of their hands to the declaration that hermits have the right to live off alms? The Regula Solitariorum is not saying that hermits need not work, but rather that they need not earn their living by the work they do. The profitability of work is not the sine qua non of the eremitical life. When the Egyptian abbas talked about work, they were refer-ring to an activity by which they avoided idleness and earned money. In the works which follow the Regula Solitariorum, the financial benefits of work will fade into the background. There will be a strong tendency to value work solely as a means to escape the boredom idleness brings on. A Camaldolese Rule for Hermits The shift in what is meant by "work" is evident in a 12th- 13th-century rule for hermits which plays a part in the history of the Camaldolese.9 It is interesting that, when the customary warn-ing against idleness is given and the hermit is told to combat this by "doing some work," the works suggested are actually spiritual and penitential practices (34; 297). When the rule does refer to manualia exercitia, the emphasis is on when manual labor may not be done (35; 298). March-April 2000 155 Russell ¯ Must Hermits Work? The kinds of work mentioned--gathering wood, gardening, collecting straw--are to be done in groups of three or more (36; 298). What the rule seems to have in mind when it talks of work (the noise of which must not disturb the quiet of the hermitage) is the maintenance necessary to keep the hermit colony functioning. There seems to be no notion of profitability whatsoever. Indeed, the emphasis on the recitation of the Psalter indicates the influence of Cluny (37; 298). Liturgical prayer has become the monk's real work. A hermit is simply too busy and too often weak-ened by fasting to work. During Lent, for example, some work (aliquid; manualia quaedam) is scheduled for only two afternoons a week (35; 298). Guigo I's Carthusian Customary The "customary" (or custom book) of what Would later be called the Grande Chartreuse, written by Guigo I, shows that bookcopying was to the Carthusians what weaving and braiding had been to the Egyptian solitaries, that is, the perfect activity for the hermit's cell. Guigo I notes, therefore, that anyone who is capable is taught to do this work (222)'.~° The production of manuscripts seemed particularly apt to these priest-hermits because it was a way for them to preach the word silently (224). The profit motive is not mentioned, but surely the produc-tion of a commodity that was in demand supplemented the support the inner circle of monks received from the outer ring of conversi, who did the manual labor that today we call blue-collar work. Guigo's complaints about the cost of running the place suggest that the community was on a tight budget (210). However, if there was anything left over after expenses had been met, it was Jaot given to the poor directly but sent to the neighboring village for distribution. In this way the Carthusians made it unprofitable for the poor to trek to their door (210). .I.t/k/ Peter the Venerable's Letter to Gislebertus Not all hermits and recluses shared the Carthusians' deter-mination to keep people at a distance. Some of them surrendered to the inclination to escape the monotony of their life by turning outward. Their effort to lighten the burden of their solitary rou-tine by a bit of pastoral counseling may seem prudent to us, but in Review for Religious fact it made the return to solitude all the harder. It had another damaging consequence: it brought them more money than they needed. The extra, of course, was said to be for the poor, but watching the coins pile up could easily lead to avarice or turn the hermit into a local benefactor. It is not surprising, there.fore, that Peter the Venerable, the great abbot of Cluny, advises Gislebertus, a monk of his who has recently become a recluse, to make sure that there is no extra cash in his cell. He insists that Gislebertus not become a distribution center of offerings to the poor. If someone in authority tells him that he must perform this function, the abbot uses his authority to veto the plan. It makes no sense to Peter that someone who has been freed from the worry of meeting his own needs should be entangled in concerns about the needs of others (35).~ Since we are told that his monastery provided Gislebertus with food, clothing, and his hermitage, it is clear that he did not have to earn his living (35). When Peter, therefore, proposes some sort of manual labor, he is suggesting a means of refreshing the'mind and exercising the body. He is recommending manual labor as a relief from the hard work of reading, prayer, and meditation (38). ¯ For Peter, as for Guigo I, the best work for a hei'mit is book-copying. He too is enthusiastic about its pastoral benefits (39). But, if a hermit cannot do this work because his eyes are bad or because it gives him a headache, or if he simply wants to have something more than just bookcopying to do, Peter recommends that he make coinbs, needle cases, small wine flasks, and the like. He even mentions that, if a swamp is nearby, the recluse may imi-tate the ancient monks and make baskets (39). At this point, it seems to me, the text veers toward the romantic. Work has become a hobby, purely a means of avoiding idleness. The task which Cassian said the Egyptian

Issue 51.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1992. ; fo,r relig i ous Christian Heritages and ContemP0ra~ Living SEPTEMBER-O~OBER 1992 ~ t VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 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 Washington, 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 offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez sJ Sefin Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents spiritual growth 646 Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness William G. Thompson SJ explores by means of three personal examples the relationship between being holy and being devel-oped spiritually. 659 Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Robert P. Malohey CM proposes that listening becomes a basic Christian stance for a healthy and practical spirituality. 675 Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth John Wickham SJ mixes traditional language and new approaches to explain the major movements from the discerning and affirmation of the self to ultimate union with the Lord. religious life 691 Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition David F. O'Connor ST reviews the history of how traumatic changes in religious life have preceded new forms of dedication and vitality. 707 Religious Life in the Puebla Document Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ emphasizes the directions of religious life in Latin America given official support in the Puebla docu-ment. 716 721 A Collaborative Retirement Convent Kathleen Steinkamp RSM details the process by which two reli-gious communities established a residential care facility for their retired members. living spiritually Reinventing the Sabbath Dennis Hamm SJ presents a refreshing review of the meaning of 642 R~view for Religious 733 736 sabbath rest and its importance for the survival of our faith. Priesthood, Listening, and the Music Bishop Paul A. Zipfel instructs Dominican ordinands to reverence the gift of orders they will be receiving. A Diligent Compassion Theresa Mancuso relives both the pain of grief on the occasion of her mother's death and the long process of being reconciled with that loss. 743 754 praying Becoming Contemplative Here or There Marie Beha OSC traces out four strands of monastic contemplative discipline to give outsiders a close look at some fibers that go into a contemplative life. An Imaginative Look at Mary Jeffrey B. Symynkywicz focuses his imagined prayer or his prayer-ful imagination on how he sees Mary fitting into today's world. life directions 762 A Journey of Transformation Together Lorelle E. Elcock OP describes the steps of the process of trans-forming three Dominican congregations of women into a new unity. 770 Celibacy as Possibility Marie McCarthy SP explores a celibacy that is concerned about possibilities for life, for generativity, and for transformation. 644 782 789 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Communicating an Indult of Departure Book Reviews September-October 1992 643 prisms ~hat does a laywoman in Brooklyn have in common with a professor in Central America gunned down for his beliefs, with an auxiliary bishop in St. Louis known for his pastoral-liturgical style, and with a member of a religious community facing the prospect of no new members? In addition to being people who have struggled to live authentic Christian lives, each of these men and women has articles in this issue of Review for Religious. They join their voices with a treasurer of a reli-gious community, with a cloistered contemplative sister, and with spiritual directors, theologians, and administra-tors from Canada, Rome, and the United States to exam-ine a whole spectrum of issues of interest to the contemporary church. These women and men--and, over the years, many others like them--have written about their religious expe-riences in these pages. As they share their personal insights and practical observations about living their faith, our readers around the world benefit from their reflections. Review for Religious has been a valuable resource because of the rich diversity of topics it treats and because of the wide range of perspectives it presents. Have you ever wondered how such articles come to be published? One of the best-kept secrets about this pub-lication is that the editors seldom solicit articles for a par-titular: issue. Over the years a steady flow of unsolicited manuscripts has provided a substantial backlog of articles. The editors simply select, edit, and group the articles. We are constantly amazed at what comes across our desks. Each year the editors consider 250 to 300 articles. From these we select between 90 and 100 for publication. 644 Review for Religious After the editors have chosen the articles they wish to publish, their time is consumed by the process of careful copy editing, proofreading, and preparing the articles for press. The continued vitality of this journal depends on the contri-butions from our readers. Articles that appear in Review are writ-ten, for the most part, by nonprofessional writers--people just like you. That's right. People just like the one who is reading these words at this moment. But this should not come as a surprise. Some two thousand years ago a tax collector and a tent maker did not look on themselves as writers, but today we still draw inspi-ration from the words they penned. Moses and Jeremiah found words worth recording even though one stuttered and the other felt inexperienced. Many of us feel equally inhibited. Few people consider themselves writers. None of the members of the Review staff, if truth be known, prepared themselves for careers in writing or publishing. Yet each of us discovers that, at some point in our lives, we have something to say. We may, how-ever, have difficulties convincing ourselves of that fact. But consider the words found in the Book of Deuteronomy: "The word is very near to you, it is in your mouth and in your heart." The words we discover within our hearts often merit a wider audience. Have you come to a fresh understanding of prayer during a recent retreat or as you talk with other people who pray? Review for Religious would like to invite you to share your experiences and insights. Has the community or parish you live in developed a program or a new method of interacting that others could profit from hearing about? Review could make that possible. If some-thing strikes you as original or valuable, chances are someone else will benefit from hearing that idea. May we invite you to consider becoming a writer? Should you feel that you have the materials for an article that meets the mission statement printed on the back cover of this issue, con-sider putting it on paper. Review will be delighted to send you a set of writers' guidelines. These guidelines clearly describe how to prepare and submit an article for publication in this journal. Review and its many readers want to hear your ideas. And we will be grateful to you for the courage and hard work you will invest in expressing them. Michael Harter SJ September-October 1992 645 WILLIAM G. THOMPSON spiritual growth Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness For several years I have been articulating for myself and my classes a working model of the inner world represented by the terms spirituality, spiritual development, and holi-ness. In this article I offer some insights I have had as I wondered about how these terms are related. How is spir-ituality related to the human sciences, especially devel-opmental psychology? Is spiritual development the same as what psychologists call human development? How is holiness related to psychological wholeness? I will begin with three examples, move to a more technical exploration of the terms, and return to reflect on the examples in the light of that exploration. Rachel, an adolescent with cerebral palsy, is so severely delayed in her human development that she cannot attend the regular religious-education classes or the liturgies in her parish. Every two weeks she gathers with five other similarly retarded adolescents and six adult sponsors for sessions in special religious education, symbolic catech-esis for the mentally retarded. Joan, who has been her sponsor and friend in this gathering for five years, is con-vinced that despite her developmental retardation Rachel is a very holy young woman. William G. Thompson sJ specializes in the New Testament for adult spirituality and pastoral ministry. He has a doctorate in Scripture from the Pontifical Biblical Institute and serves as asso-ciate professor in Loyola University's Institute of Pastoral Studies, Chicago. His most recent book is Matthew's Story: Good News for Uncertain Times (Paulist, 1989). His address is Ignatius House; 1331 W. Albion Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60626. 646 Review for Religious Katie Klein was born in Germany but came to the United States at the end of World War I. When I was a child, she came to our home two days a week to do laundry and clean our house, as she did for two other families. I came to know and love Katie. She lived a simple, structured, apparently rigid and unimaginative, but also very meaningful life. She went to Mass every morning before work, and she spent at least an hour after work reciting traditional prayers at home. I believe that Katie was a very holy woman even though she seemed never to outgrow the simple piety that had given meaning to her younger years. Before her death in 1950, no personal crisis or public event occurred to chal-lenge her way of living a life that appeared to be pleasing to God. During Vatican Council II, I was pursuing doctoral studies at the Biblical Institute in Rome. Day by day I interiorized the drama of the council as I received reports about its progress from a fellow Jesuit who attended the sessions. I soon sensed that the vision of the church in the modern world that was being shaped in the council's debates was tearing down the world of meaning I had put together for myself over the fifteen years of my Jesuit formation and education. I somehow knew that a long and subtle search for a new world of meaning was beginning. Had the Vatican Council not called us Roman Catholics to let our paradigms shift and leap to a different horizon of meaning, I might still be wear-ing the traditional Jesuit cassock and living the style of priest-hood for which I was so well trained. Spirituality Before Vatican II, spirituality as it refers to lived experience was an almost exclusively Roman Catholic term. But it has taken on a much broader meaning with the council's invitation to a new awareness of, dialogue with, and appreciation of other Christian denominations and of non-Christian religions. In recent years we have been speaking of spirituality as found in various Protestant traditions and in the various traditions of Judaism, as well as in Hinduism, Islam, and Buddhism. Vatican II also called us to a new dialogue with the human sciences, especially with the fields of psychology, sociology, and anthropology, in which spirituality refers to the human spirit apart from religion. Some even speak about the spirituality of antireligious movements such as secular feminism and atheistic Marxism. September-October 1992 647 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness Spirituality has become a broad, inclusive term that is no longer confined to or defined by religion. It seems now to name a human reality which is difficult to define but whose patterns can be verified in quite different religions and movements. It is no longer limited to the so-called "interior life" of those (mostly priests and religious) who "strive for perfection" through a life of prayer and virtue beyond that of the "ordinary" believer. Spirituality now focuses on the human spirit of believers and non-believers, on their lives as a whole, that is, on the physical and emotional, the intellectual and social, the political and cultural, the secular and religious dimensions of their lives.1 In recent years academic courses and publications in spiritu-ality have multiplied in response to the broad and deep interest among professionals in ministry and among academics in semi-naries and universities. How then are we to define spirituality? Sandra Schneiders provides the best definition that I have found: "Spirituality is the experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one perceives.''2 According to this definition, (1) spirituality names our progressive, consciously pursued movement toward personal integration; (2) such integration happens when we transcend ourselves rather than center on ourselves and our own self-actualization; and (3) such self-transcendence takes place within the horizon of how we imag-ine, think, and feel about what is ultimate in human life and moves us toward it. For Christians our ultimate concern is God revealed in Jesus Christ and experienced through the gift of the Holy Spirit and within the life of the church. But a spirituality may or may not include God or Jesus Christ, may or may not be explicitly reli-gious. Clear boundaries between the secular and the sacred, between believers and nonbelievers, are notoriously difficult to determine. But twelve-step spirituality has taught us that for reli-gious persons reliance on their "Higher Power" may mean reliance on God, while for nonreligious persons it may mean reliance on their support groups. However, our definition of spirituality does not extend to those persons who organize, orient, and orches-trate their lives in dysfunctional or narcissistic ways according to addictive patterns such as alcoholism or self-centered eroticism. Self-transcendence moves us out of compulsive, addictive, obses-sive patterns of behavior toward more healthy relationships with 648 Review for Religious other persons, with ourselves, and with a transcendent Other, however we imagine and name that Other. At the heart of spirituality, then, lies self-transcendence? The philosophical meaning of spirituality is that capacity for self-tran-scendence through knowledge and love which characterizes humans as persons. We human beings actual-ize this philosophical spirituality within the net-works and patterns of our relationships with others. We seek meaning and are found by meaning as we interact with each other indi-vidually and in communities; and we seek truth and are found by truth in these interactions. A religious spirituality affirms that the proper and highest realization of our human capacity for self-transcendence is to be found in our personal relationship with God. Spirituality in this religious sense has as its ultimate concern our individual and communal believing in, hoping for, and loving God. Religious traditions that imagine and understand God as a person who relates reciprocally with individuals and communi-ties on earth have a religious spirituality. The religions of Islam and Hinduism, of Judaism and Christianity, all see our human spirit as responding to, dependent upon, related to, and account-able to a transcendent Other named God. These religions include images, symbols, metaphors, stories, laws, and rituals through which people encounter God and are encountered by God. In Christian spirituality God's Spirit within but other than our human spirit, within but other than the community of believ-ers, actualizes our capacity for self-transcendence by relating us in and through Jesus Christ to others, to our world, and to God. Our spirituality is at work when we implicitly or explicitly imag-ine- think and feel about, make choices and decisions about-- our everyday lives within the ultimate horizon of our relationship to a personal God in and through Jesus Christ and as empow-ered by God's Spirit. We Christians seek to interpret our indi-vidual and collective human experience as centered in Jesus Christ, guided by the Holy Spirit, and oriented to God. Our spirituality is incarnational and trinitarian. God initiates the personal relationship in and through Christ by the power of the Spirit; our spirituality, individual and collec-tive, reflects how we respond to God's initiative as we face the At the heart of spirituality lies self-transcendence. Septentber- October 1992 649 T~_~pson . Spirituality and Holiness, challenges of everyday life within our specific historical and cul-rural environment. Our spirituality is the sum of our responses to what we perceive as the inner call of God. It has to do with our vocation, that is, with the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for life that is part of the purposes that God has for our lives in the world. It has to do with the activities by which we are being created by God and create with God, by which we are governed by God and govern our world with God, by which we are being redeemed by God and participate in God's work of redemption in our concrete his-torical situation. At its core, Christian spirituality concerns how we live in part-nership with the action of God in our lives, whatever its pattern. It focuses on how God actively guides our evolving universe, including God's personal interactions with individuals and com-munities. It acknowledges that our human lives are created by God and destined to return to God. It is concerned with how we are aware of and respond to God and how we transcend ourselves to relate more deeply with others and with our world. As we shall see, this call to self-transcendence may also, but need not, include development, that is, movement in the direction of more devel-oped patterns for finding truth and meaning in our lives.4 Returning to our examples: Rachel, although developmentally retarded, transcends herself by responding to Joan's invitation to friendship, the human experience that most closely resembles faith. She is instinctively present to the other adolescents in the praying group, and she senses that the adult sponsors truly want to be totally present to her. Responding more often with smiles and gestures than with words, Rachel lives close to her feelings and does not hide them from others. She has no problem loving the others and wanting to be loved, even though her movement toward personal integration is slow and retarded. Katie Klein transcended herself by serving our family and other families as laundress and cleaning lady and by being devoted to God at daily Eucharist and in her nightly prayers at home. Her faithful devotion to God and her dedicated service of others dis-closed her ultimate concern; she lived cheerfully and peacefully within the horizon of that concern. Her movement toward per-son] l integration seemed not to include changing how she found meaning in her life. I was called to transcend myself by engaging the events of 650 Review for Religious Vatican II, letting them interact with and begin to tear down the world of meaning constructed over the long years of my Jesuit formation and education. From 1963 to 1968, I was invited to let all that the council meant slowly change how I understood myself as a Jesuit priest, as well as let its vision shape in me images of what my life and work would be as a biblical scholar in the post- Vatican II Roman Catholic Church. I experienced this process as an invitation not simply to move but to leap to a new and broader world of meaning and as a challenge to come to a different under-standing of myself in that world. Spiritual Development Human development is the lifelong process of growing, of changing in many different ways. We humans sometimes change to survive or at least to find meaning in our lives. Sometimes we choose new ways to realize our dreams and attain our goals. At other times we learn better skills and gain more expertise while remaining in the same relationships to others and to our work that give meaning to our lives. We are invited to grow and develop, however, when events so shatter the ways in which we have found meaning and been found by meaning that we inust move toward shaping new patterns that will be more adequate to our changed inner and outer environment. Our journey through life may sometimes take us to new vis-tas of knowing, to deeper realms of trusting, to ever widen.ing circles of belonging, to more creative and effective acting. As we develop, we are enabled to embrace a wider world, to acknowledge a more adequate truth, to live in a more inclusive community, and to enter more deeply into the mystery of human existence. A relatively young discipline, the psychology of human devel-opment was born in response to our modern culture, in which, expecting to live longer lives, we become fascinated by what the extended journey entails. We also sense that, as we near the end of the twentieth century, the global village we call our world is dramatically changing. We need and want to know how we indi-viduals and our families and communities are to navigate such hazardous times. Erik Erikson and Jean Piaget are considered the fathers of developmental psychology. For Erikson, the father of psychoso-cial theories, development is h series of tasks based both on bio- Septe,nber- October 1992 651 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness logical development and on how we interact consciously and unconsciously with other persons, with secular and religious insti-tutions, and with all that makes up our culture. Erikson names a sequence of eight tasks: trust vs. mistrust, autonomy vs. shame and doubt, initiative vs. guilt, industry vs. inferiority, identity vs. role confusion, intimacy vs. isolation, generativity vs. stagnation, integrity vs. despair. We never complete any of these lifelong tasks, but, as we move through our lives, one task more than the others may call for special energy and attention. For example, the elderly continue to work at the tasks of trust vs. mistrust and generativity vs. stagnation even as they are called to the final task, integrity vs. despair,s Jean Piaget, the father of structural-developmental theories, focused on the structures of human thought and reasoning. He recognized that infants, children, and adolescents come to know reality differently. He developed an understanding, of cognitive development in which a stage is an integrated pattern of opera-tional structures that at a given time constitute the person's thought processes. Piaget called his stages preoperational, concretely oper-ational, early formal operational, and formal operational. Development from one stage to another involves the transforma-tion of these cognitive structures in the direction of greater inter-nal differentiation, complexity, flexibility, and stability.6 Erikson's tasks, with their focus on what meaning we find in our lives, are related to the seasons of our lives, to our youth and adolescence and to our early, middle, and late adulthood. Piaget's structural stages, with their concern for bow we find and are found by meaning, are not so related to chronological age or social envi-ronment. As children we may have begun to develop formal oper-ational structures in which our experience of others is concrete, literal, and immediate. We may have created strong stereotypes of others, shown little empathy for those with whom we are not familiar, and developed a strong but simple sense of right and wrong based on regulations, law and order, and reward and pun-ishment. Since this structure is not age related, we may live all the seasons of our lives and address all the psychosocial tasks without moving toward the next structural stage of human development. We may continue to use existing structures as long as they work, that is, until our inner and outer worlds become so much more complex that we can no longer find and be found by meaning within those structures and patterns. 652 Review for Religious When we experience life as more complex than we have known it, we may be invited to move toward the next stage of human development, toward the next task (Erikson) or toward the next structure for finding meaning (Piaget). Crises, marker events, unfulfilled hopes, changes in significant relationships can create an inner climate of confusion, doubt, and conflict that invites us into transition. Rome during Vatican II was such an inner and outer environment. If we choose to respond to the invi-tation, we begin to separate from the images that have given mean-ing to our lives and then to float in between the old and the new so that we may gradually reintegrate our lives around more ade-quate images of how we are to know, feel, value, love, and act. As we change, we may feel weak, vulnerable, and out of control because we have begun to experience our lives as more chaotic than orderly. Nevertheless, we are drawn to risk moving or being moved toward more developed patterns so that we may live and act more effectively in our increasingly complex world. Transitions in human development are those more or less extended periods in which we gradually develop more internal complexity, more sub-tle differentiation, greater flexibility, and stronger inner stability. This is the place to ask how human development with its stages and transitions relates to spiritual development. We have seen that spirituality has as its concern how over time we integrate our lives in the direction not of isolation and self-absorption but of greater self-transcendence toward the ultimate value as we per-ceive it. According to Daniel Helminiak, spiritual development is the same as human development but with four characteristics that make it spiritual: (1) an intrinsic principle of authentic self-transcendence, (2) the openness of the person to such self-tran-scendence, (3) the integrity or wholeness of the person in question, and (4) an adult capacity for self-criticism and responsibility for oneself.7 Spiritual development, like spirituality, is a general human phenomenon that may or may not be religious. It is more prop-erly studied in the human sciences than in theology, particularly in developmental psychologies with a philosophical perspective. Spiritual development can be called religious when in our search for meaning we acknowledge a personal God to whom we are related and with whom we can realize our deepest capacity for self-transcendence. Christian spiritual development understands that relationship as the gift of God's Spirit actualizing our capac- Septentber-October 1992 653 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness ity for self-transcendence and relating us to God in Jesus Christ within the Christian community of believers. We Christians believe that God is present and active in the events that change our inner climate, that Jesus Christ invites us into transition and enables us to respond to the invitation, and that God's Spirit com-panions us as we separate from outworn images and learn to float in between, waiting patiently for new, more life-giving images to emerge. Spiritual development can also be described as our moving into deeper and more comprehensive love. Love is Jesus' only command and the standard of perfection in the Christian tradi-tion. 8 Developmental psychology considers this same movement from self-centeredness to self-transcendence its criterion for human development. Although Christians understand spiritual growth as involving more than psychological development, both the Christian tradition and developmental psychology have the same vision of human maturity, that is, movement toward greater autonomy for the sake of more authentically mutual and intimate relationships. Insights from developmental psychology can enrich our understanding of and help us grow into more mature rela-tionships with others, with ourselves, with the cosmos, and with God. Holiness With this understanding of spirituality and spiritual devel-opment, we now ask what it means to be holy and whether holi-ness is the same as wholeness. I agree with Daniel Helminiak that holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship? A person can be holy at any stage of spiritual devel-opment; a neurotic person can be holy; a developmentally dis-abled or retarded person can be holy. Holiness has nothing to do with psychological wholeness, but everything to do with the qual-ity of our relationships to God and others, to ourselves and our world, whatever the pattern of those relationships. Holiness has to do with generosity, surrender, intensity, openness, and depth according to our capacity to possess and exercise these qualities. Holiness concerns our authenticity before God, others, ourselves, and our world, how we walk in these relationships, how we do God's will, how we remain close to God and others, how we live 654 Review for Religious in harmony with God, others, and ourselves, how we cooperate with the call and grace of God in our lives. Holiness concerns how well we respond to God's call to self-transcendence and enter into meaningful relationships with oth-ers and with all that makes up our environment. God's call may or may not include an invitation to move toward the next stage of human development, that is, toward more complex patterns for finding and being found by meaning. What counts is how open we are to God, how well we listen for God, and how well we respond to God in and through the relationships that make up our everyday lives. God calls us to holiness within our concrete histori-cal and cultural situation, whether we are developmentally retarded, as is Rachel; or we live with simple patterns for finding meaning, as did Katie; or we are invited to " move to the next stage of spiritual devel-opment, as I was invited. Our vocation--that is, the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for our life that is part of the purposes that God has for our life in the world--may include an invitation to develop new, more complex patterns for making meaning, but it may not. Holiness cannot be identified with psychological wholeness or correlated with spiritual development. A less developed person may be holy, while a more developed person may not. As we pass through the stages of spiritual development, we may become more psychologically mature, but whether or not we also grow in holi-ness depends on the quality of our response to the call of God in our lives. Holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship. Conclusion Now we return to our cases. Rachel cannot manage in the usual parish groups of adolescents because she moves at a much slower pace than normal in her spiritual development. She has moved through the stages of grasping reality by exploring every-thing in sight (sensory-motor thinking), of imagining the outside Septentber-October 1992 655 Thompson ¯ Spirituali~ and Holiness " world to fit her inside world (symbolic thinking), and of identi-fying with what she learns (intuitive thinking). But her retardation makes her as yet incapable of thinking beyond what actually is to what is possible (formal operational thinking). Her adult friend Joan and the other adult sponsors are convinced that Rachel is holy and growing in holiness even though developmentally retarded. Rachel receives her vocation from God through Joan and the other adolescents and adults at their biweekly sessions in symbolic catechesis. She responds to those around her and to God with the capacity she has to symbolize and imagine, to know and be known, to love and be loved. Joan senses that almost imperceptibly Rachel is growing more open, more generous, and more authentic in responding to this call of God. Her holiness depends on the quality of her response to others and to God, not on the stage of her spiritual development,l° Katie Klein lived a regular, structured, apparently unimagi-native, but meaningful life. Her experience of others and of God was concrete, literal, and immediate. And she had a 'strong but simple sense of right and wrong. She moved through the tasks of adult life (Erikson) with early formal operational structures of thought (Piaget). Although capable of further development, Katie found those patterns adequate for finding and being found by meaning in her inner and outer world. Generously serving others and being faithful to daily Mass and devotional prayers, Katie became a very holy woman even though her life situation, God in her life, never invited her to move beyond an uncomplicated pat-tern of spiritual development. Within that pattern Katie responded more and more generously to God and walked more and more faithfully with God to become as holy a person as anyone I have known. In how well she loved and served our family, in how deeply she trusted God as she approached death, we knew that Katie's was a rich, solid, strong partnership with God. During my doctoral studies, the events of Vatican II invited me to develop spiritually by letting conventional patterns for find-ing meaning in my Jesuit life be shattered so that more adequate, more individuated, more autonomous structures might be shaped. As I interacted with the environment of the council, God called me to an experience of brokenness so that I might become more whole psychologically, more mature spiritually. Reality became chaotic compared with what I had known in my years of Jesuit formation. Challenged to change, feeling vulnerable, I risked 656 Review for Religious moving toward more complex patterns for making meaning in my life. God called me into this transition so that I might more effectively live and work in the world envisioned by the council. As I struggled through this developmental transition, whether or not I was also becoming holy depended not on the transition but on how well I was listening to and how generously I was responding to the call of God in that experience. Rachel was developmentally retarded, but l~oly; Katie was never called into transition, and she was holy. God invited me to move from the conventional world of meaning I had constructed in my Jesuit formation toward a more individual stage of spiritual develop-ment. Does that mean I was also becoming more holy? Not nec-essarily! We cannot measure holiness, neither our own nor other people's; only God knows the quality of that response to God. We can remember, however, and we must, that holiness concerns how well we live in partnership with God, not how far we have advanced through the stages of spiritual development. Notes ~ Sandra M. Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 681-683; Joann Wolski Conn, Spirituality and Personal Maturity (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 13-29. 2 Schneiders, "Spirituality," p. 684. 3 Sandra M. Schneiders, "Theology and Spirituality: Strangers, Rivals, or Partners," Horizons 13 (1986): 266; Wolski Conn, Spirituality, pp. 29- 30. 4 For further discussion see Katherine Marie Dyckman and L. Patrick Carroll, Inviting the Mystic, Supporting the Prophet (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 79; Benedict J. Groeschel, Spiritual Passages (New York: Crossroad, 1988), p. 4; James W. Fowler, Becoming Adult, Becoming Christian (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 71-76; James W. Fowler, Weaving the New Creation (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), p. 31. s For another approach to psychosocial development, see Daniel J. Levinson, The Seasons of a Man's Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1978); Anita Spencer, Seasons (New York: Paulist, 1982). 6 For a description of contemporary structuralists (Lawrence Kohlberg, Carol Gilligan, James Fowler, Robert Kegan), see James W. Fowler, Stages of Faith: The Psychology of Human Development and the Quest for Meaning (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1981), pp. 37-116; Fowler, Becoming Adult, pp. 37-47. 7 Daniel A. Helminiak, Spiritual Development (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1987), pp. 29-42. September-October 1992 657 8 Joann Wolski Corm and Walter E. Corm, "Christian Spiritual Growth and Developmental Psychology," The Way Supplement 69 (1990): 3-13. 9 Helminiak, Spiritual Development, pp. 143-158. ~0 For an excellent treatment of the mentally retarded, see Mary Therese Harrington, A Place for All: Mental Retardation, Catechesis, and Liturgy (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). The Chess Game It seems you never give up needling away at my defenses. You come to me ready to play a game of chess where you are the seasoned player, and L the fumbling novice. Sometimes you move all at once your strategically placed artillery, leaving me helpless soon after the confrontation has begun. On other occasions you will move, with well-&ought-out expertise, your black knight too near the weakest part of my citadel. You know from past maneuvers I tend to abandon the safety of my ramparts in my hasty efforts to capture him. In the process I give you the liberty to rush into my undefended heart, capturing, as a victory prize, any false god who resides there. When you play, you are never content with a pawn or queen of mine. You want them all! Richard Heatley FSC 658 Review for Religious ROBERT E MALONEY Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear. Isaiah YO:4-Y manuals on the spiritual life, and even in the classics? One searches in vain for a chapter on listening in the writings of St. Benedict or St. Ignatius or even in the writings of very practical, concretely oriented saints like Francis de Sales and Vincent de Paul. One comes up empty too in Luis de Granada and Rodriguez and in later widely used treatises on spirituality like Tanquerey. Listening, of course, enters these writings implicitly under many headings. But if one considers listening the foundation for spirituality, one might have expected it to stand out in greater relief. This article proposes some reflections on listening as the foundation of spirituality. It will examine, in a preliminary way: (1) listening in the New Testament; (2) listening as the foundation for all spirituality; (3) some echoes of the theme in the history of spirituality; (4) the contrast between an implicit and an explicit theme; (5) some ramifications today. Christian listening begins, of course, with the Old Testament, R6bert P. Maloney CM writes from Rome, where he serves as a mem-ber of the general administration of the Vincentian Fathers and Brothers. His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. September-October 1992 659 Maloney ¯ Listening where listening plays a vital role, especially in the Deuteronomic and prophetic traditions. Yahweh often complains that, when he speaks, his people "do not listen." Conversely, the prophets are preeminent listeners; they hear what Yahweh has to say and then speak in his name. "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening," says the boy Samuel as he begins his prophetic career. Listening recurs again and again in the New Testament, where a study of Johannine literature, for instance, would reveal listening as the key to eter-nal life. "Whoever is of God listens to every word God speaks. The reason you do not hear is that you are not of God . If someone is true to my word he shall never see death" On 8:47, 51). Listening in Luke's Gospel In Luke's Gospel the listening theme is quite explicit. For Luke, as for the entire New Testament, God takes the initiative through his word, which breaks into the world as good news call-ing for human attention and response. Mary the model listener. As with almost all the important themes in Lukan theology, the listening theme is introduced in the infancy narratives. These narratives provide a summary of the theology that Luke will weave through his Gospel. The listening theme is among the most prominent Lukan motifs (parenthetically, one might add that in Luke's Gospel another theme is at work in many of the listening stories; contrary to the expected cultural patterns of the writer's time, a woman is the model listener presented to the reader). Mary is evangelized in Luke's first two chapters. She is the first to hear the good news. She is the ideal disciple, the model for all believers. Mary listens reflectively to Gabriel, who announces the good news of God's presence and tells her of the extraordinary child whom she is to bear; to Elizabeth, who proclaims her blessed among women because she has believed that the word of the Lord would be fulfilled in he~; to shepherds, who tell her and others the message which has been revealed to them about the child, the good news that a Savior is born; to Simeon, who proclaims a song of praise for the salvation that has come to all nations and a prophecy that ominously forebodes the cross; to Anna, who praises God in Mary's presence and keeps speaking to all who are ready to hear; to Jesus himself, who tells her about his relationship with his heavenly Father, which must take precedence over everything. 660 Review for Religious Luke pictures Mary as listening to the Angel Gabriel with wonderment, questioning what it might mean, deciding to act on it, and afterwards meditating on the mystery of God's ways, reflecting on them in her heart. The theme of listening later in Luke's Gospel. Luke uses three brief stories to illustrate this theme of listening discipleship, namely, that those who listen to the word of God and act on it are the true followers of Jesus. (1) His mother and brothers came to be with him, but they could not reach him because of the crowd. He was told, "Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you." He told them in reply, "My mother and my brothers are those who listen to the word of God and act upon it" (8:19-21). In this story Luke changes the Markan emphasis (cf. Mk 3:31- 35) radically. While Mark depreciates the role of Jesus' mother and relatives, Luke extols it, echoing his first two chapters and show-ing that Mary is the ideal disciple, who listens to God's word and acts on it. (2) On their journey Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him to her home. She had a sis-ter named Mary, who seated herself atthe Lord's feet and listened to his words. Martha, who was busy with all the details of hospitality, came to him and said, "Lord are you not concerned that my sister has left me to do the household tasks all alone? Tell her to help me." The Lord in reply said to her: "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and upset about many things; one thing only is required. Mary has chosen the better portion and she shall not be deprived of it" (10:38-42). Even though Jesus' statement about the one thing necessary has been subject to innumerable interpretations, there is little doubt about the point of this story in the context of Luke's Gospel. Mary has chosen the better part because she is sitting at Jesus's feet and listening to his words, just as any true disciple does. While there are many other themes in the story (such as the role of women and the role of the home-church in early Christianity, which is reinforced here through a Lukan addition), Luke empha-sizes the basis of discipleship: listening to the word of God. That is the better part (see Lk 8:4-21). (3) While he was saying this a woman from the crowd called out "Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that September- October 1992 661 Maloney ¯ Listening nursed you! . Rather," he replied, "blest are they who lis-ten to the word of God and keep it." This passage interrupts, rather puzzlingly, a series of contro-versies that Jesus is involved in during the journey to Jerusalem. But Luke inserts it to clarify the meaning of discipleship once more: real happiness does not lie in physical closeness to Jesus, nor in blood relationship with him, but in listening to the word of God and acting on it. Listening as the Basis for Spirituality All spirituality revolves around self-transcendence. As a work-ing definition for spirituality, we might use one proposed by Sandra Schneiders: "The experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one per-ceives." l For Christians spirituality involves "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Rm 13:14), "giving away one's life rather than saving it up" (Mk 8:35, Mt 16:25, Lk 9:24, Jn 12:25), and other phrases that imply self-transcendence. The self is not obliterated through self-transcendence; rather, it becomes fully actualized.2 That is the Christian paradox: in giving oneself, one finds one's true self. In that sense authentic love of God, of the neighbor, and of self come together. Authors put this in different ways. For Bernard Lonergan self-transcendence occurs in the radical drive of the human spirit, which yearns for meaning, truth, value, and love. Authenticity, then, "results from long-sustained exercise of attentiveness, intel-ligence, reasonableness, responsibility.''3 For Karl Rahner the human person is the event of the absolute self-communication of God. In his foundational works Rahner describes the human per-son as essentially a listener, one who is always awaiting a possible word of revelation. Only in Jesus, the self-communication of God, is the human person ultimately fulfilled. At the core of the his-torical human person is a gnawing hunger for the other, for abso-lute Value. A particular spirituality is a way in which this longing for the absolute is expressed.4 But this inner yearning for truth and love, this "reaching out," as Henri Nouwen expresses it, can only be satisfied by a word from without--spoken or enfleshed--that reveals what true 662 Review for Religious humanity really is. In the human person the fundamental dispo-sition for receiving that word or Word is listening. It is worth notirig here that Genesis, the wisdom books, and the Johannine tradition all seize on the concept of the Word as the way in which God initiates and breaks into human history. The creating word bears within it its own immediate response: "Let there be light, and there was light." But the word spoken to the human person, who in God's image and likeness rules with free-dom over all creation, must be listened to and responded to freely. Of course, listening here is used in the broadest sense. It includes seeing, hearing, sensing, feeling, perceiving. "Attentiveness" might serve as the term for the various ways in which the human person is ready to grasp what comes from with-out. Listening in this sense is the indispensable precondition for self-transcendence. Without it the word that comes from without goes unheard, the truth that draws the human mind to a vision beyond itself goes unperceived, the love that seeks to capture the heart goes unrequited. Is this why the saints have so stressed the importance of lis-tening in prayer? ls this why obedience has played such an influ-ential role in the tradition of religious communities? Is this why the seeking of counsel has always been regarded as one of the signs of true wisdom? Is this why the Word made flesh and the word of God in the Scriptures are at the center of all Christian spiritual-ity? Is this why the reading of the Scriptures in the liturgy and communion with the Word himself in his self-giving, sacrificial love are "the source and summit" of genuine Christian living? Listening in Vincent de Paul One can find echoes of the listening theme in many tradi-tions. Ignatian discernment, which has exerted such a forceful influence on the countless people who have made the Spiritual Exercises since the sixteenth century, is a means of listening atten-tively to what God is saying and allowing God's word to work conversion within us. Francis de Sales, whose Introduction to the Devout Life has been read by millions since its first publication in 1609, spoke of the need to "be devoted to the word of God whether you hear it in familiar conversation with spiritual friends or in sermons." He urged his readers, "Always listen to it with attention."5 September-October 1992 663 Maloney ¯ Listening Here, however, I will focus briefly on another seventeenth-century figure, Vincent de Paul, whose writings are less well known, but whose charism has influenced enormous numbers of men and women, not only in the two communities he founded (the Vincentians and the Daughters of Charity), but in other com-munities that have sprung up under his inspiration, and also in the hundreds of thousands of Ladies of Charity and St. Vincent de Paul Society members throughout the world. The central place of listening in spirituality is not explicit in the conferences and writings of St. Vincent. But the spirituality he proposes includes several key themes in which the importance of listening is evident. Humility the Foundation of Evangelical Perfection Vincent calls humility "the foundation of all evangelical per-fection and the core of the spiritual life.''6 For him truly humble people see everything as gift. The humble recognize that God is seeking to enter their lives again and again so that he may speak to them. They are alert, they listen for God's word, they are eager to receive God's saving love. The humble know that the truth which sets them free comes from without: through God's word, through the cries of the poor, through the church, through the community in which they live. There is probably no theme that St. Vincent emphasized more. He described humility as the origin of all the good that we do.7 He told the Daughters of Charity: "If you establish your-selves in it, what will happen? You will make this company a par-adise, and people will rightly say that it is a group of the happiest people on earth . ,,8 Humility and listening are closely allied in that listening is the basic attitude of those who know that fullness of life, salvation, wisdom, truth, and love come from without. Brother Robineau, Vincent's secretary, whose reflections about the saint have just been published, notes that this attitude was especially evident in Vincent's conversations with the poor, with whom he would sit and converse with great friendliness and humility.9 St. Vincent loved to call the poor the real "lords and mas-ters" ,0 in the church. It is they especially who must be listened to and obeyed. In the reign of God, the world of faith, they are the kings and queens; we are the servants. Recognizing the special 664 Review for Religious place of the poor in the new order established by Jesus, Vincent was eager not only that his followers would serve and evangelize the poor, but also that they would hear God speaking in those they served or, as we would put it today, that they would allow themselves to be evangelized.1~ Reading Sacred Scripture St. Vincent was convinced that the word of God never fails. It is like "a house built upon rock.''~2 He therefore begins each chapter of his rule and many individual paragraphs with a citation from Scripture. He asks the members of the Congregation of the Mission to read a chapter of the New Testament every day. He wants them to listen to the word of God and to make it the foun-dation of all they do: "Let each of us accept the truth of the fol-lowing statement and try to make it our most fundamental principle: Christ's teaching will never let us down, while worldly wisdom always will." ~3 Abelly, Vincent's first biographer, notes, in a colorful passage, how devoted the saint was to listening to the word of God: "He seemed to suck meaning from passages of the Scriptures as a baby sucks milk from its mother, and he extracted the core and sub-stance from the Scriptures so as to be strengthened and have his soul nourished by them--and he did this in such a way that in all his words and actions he appeared to be filled with Jesus Christ.''~4 "Obeying" Everyone The word "obedience" (ob + audire = to listen thoroughly) is related etymologically to the word "listen" (audire). For St. Vincent the role of obedience in community was clearly very important. But he also extended obedience beyond its usual mean-ing, that all are to obey the legitimate commands of superiors. Using a broadened notion of obedience, he encouraged his fol-lowers to listen to and obey everyone, so that they might hear more fully what God is saying and act on it: Our obedience ought not limit itself only to those who have the right to command us, but ought to strive to move beyond that . Let us therefore consider everyone as our superior and so place ourselves beneath them and, even more, beneath the least of them, outdoing them in defer-ence, agreeableness, and service.Is September-October 1992 665 Maloney ¯ Listening~ Obedience moreover, is not the duty of subjects alone, but of superiors too. In fact, superiors should be the first to obey, by listening to the members well and by seeking counsel: "There would be nothing more beautiful in the world, my daughter, than the Company of the Daughters of Charity if. obedience flour-ished everywhere, with the sister servant the first to obey, to seek counsel, and to submit herself." 16 An Implicit Theme vs. an Explicit One It is clear that listening plays a significant, even if unaccented, role in each of the themes described above. The importance of lis-tening is not, therefore, a "forgotten truth" (to use Karl Rahner's phrase) in the writings of Ignatius Loyola, or Francis de Sales, or Vincent de Paul, or in the overall spiritual tradition; neither, however, is it a central one. Therein lie two dangers. First, truths that remain secondary or merely implicit run the risk of being underemphasized or distorted. For example, reading a chapter of the word of God daily can degenerate into fulfilling an obligation or studying a text unless listening attentively retains its preeminent place. Likewise, the practice of humility, when distorted, can result in subservience to the voices without and deafness to the voices within, where God also speaks. In such a cir-cumstance, "humility" might mask lack of courage in speaking up, deficient self-confidence, or a negative self-image. A distorted emphasis on obedience can cause subjects to listen exclusively to superiors, no matter what other voices might say, even voices that conscience demands that we listen to. Conversely, it could cause a superior to insist loudly that he only has to "listen" to the advice of others, .not follow it (whereas in such instances he may usu-ally listen to almost no one but himself). But when listening retains a place at the center, the danger of distortion is lessened. Reading the word of God, practicing humility, and obeying are seen as means for hearing what God is saying. The accent remains on attentiveness. Second, when the importance of listening is underempha-sized, there is a subtle tendency to focus on particular practices to the detriment of others or to be attentive to certain voices while disregarding others. For instance, a member of a community might pray mightily, seeking to discern what God is saying, but pay little attention to what a superior or spiritual director who 666 Review for Religious knows the person well is trying to say. He or she may listen "tran-scendentally" or "vertically," so to speak, but show little concern for listening "horizontally." Along similar lines, a superior might be very confident that, because of the grace of his office, God lets him know what his will is, while other persons, by the grace of their office, are desperately trying to signify to the same supe-rior that God is saying something quite different. The simple truth is that we must listen to many voices since God speaks to us in many ways. Some of these ways are obviously privileged, but none has an exclusive hold on the truth. Some Ramifications In his wonderful book on community, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: The first service that one owes to others in the community consists in listening to them. Just as love of God begins by listening to his Word, so the beginning of love for the brethren is learning to listen to them. It is because of God's love for us that he not only gives us his Word but also lends us his ear. So it is his work that we do for our brother when we learn to listen to him. Christians, especially ministers, so often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others, that this is the one ser-vice they have to render. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking. Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking where they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either, he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life. 17 If listening is so crucial to healthy spirituality, then how might members of communities grow in it, both as individuals and in common? Listening as Individuals From reflection on the church's long spiritual tradition, one might glean a number of qualities that characterize good listen-ers. Here I will touch briefly on four, which seem to me crucial for better listening. The first indispensable quality for good listening is humiliW. September- October 1992 667 It is "the foundation of all evangelical perfection, the core of the spiritual life," as Vincent de Paul put it.is Humble people sense their incompleteness, their need for God and other human per-sons. So they listen. Humility acknowledges that everything is gift; it sees clearly that all good things come from God. St. Vincent writes to a priest of the Mission: "Because we recognize that this abundant grace comes from God, a.grace which he keeps on giving only to the humble who realize that all the good done through them comes from God, I beg him with all my heart to give you more and more the spirit of humility." t9 But consciousness of one's incompleteness has a further dimension. It is not only "vertical," so to speak, but "horizontal"; we depend not only on God direcdy, but on God's creation around us. Truth, then, comes from listening not only to God himself, but to other human persons, through whom God's presence and words are mediated to us. The hunger for truth and love that lie at the heart of the mystery of the human person is satisfied only from without. We are inherently social, living within a complex network of relationships with individuals and with society. It is only when what is heard is pondered that its full mean-ing is revealed. The second quality necessary for better listening, then, is prayerful reflectiveness. While at times one can hear God speak even in a noisy crowd, it is often only in silence that one hears the deepest voices, that one plumbs the depth of meaning. The Psalmist urges us: "Be still and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). The Gospels, particularly Luke's, attest that Jesus turns to his Father again and again in prayer to listen to him and to seek his will. Prayer is then surely one of the privileged ways of lis-tening. But it must always be validated by life. One who listens to "what God is telling me" in prayer, but who pays little heed to what others are saying in daily life, is surely suspect. Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also (and often first of all) in the people around us. Because prayer is a meeting with God himself, what we say in prayer is much less important than what God says to us. When there is too much emphasis on what we say or do during prayer, it can easily become a "good work," an "achievement," a "speech," rather than a "grace," a "gift," a "gratuitous word" from God. 668 Review for Religious Naturally, prayer, like all human activities, involves structures, personal discipline, persevering effort. But the emphasis must always be on the presence of the personal God, to whose word we must listen attentively as he speaks to us the good news of his love for us and for others. In an era when there is much noise, where the media, if we so choose, speak to us all day long, one must surely ask: Are we able to distinguish the voice of God among the many voices that are speaking? Is God's word able to say "new things" to us? Are we still capable of wonder? As may be evident to the reader, the word wonder has an etymological kinship, through German, with wound. Is the word of God able to wound us, to pen-etrate the membrane that seals us off, that encloses us within ourselves? Can it break into our consciousness and change us? The third necessary quality is respect for the words of human persons. It is here perhaps that the tradition was weakest. It did emphasize humility. It Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also in the people around us. did accent the need to hear what God is saying and to discern his will. But it rarely focused explicitly, in the context of spirituality, on the central place of listening to other people. Many contemporary documents put great emphasis on the dignity of human persons and on the importance of hearing the cries that come from their hearts. Vatican II's Gaudium et Spes and the encyclical Redemptor Hominis see the human person as the center of creation,z° Centesimus Annus puts it strikingly: "Today the church's social doctrine focuses especially on man . ,,2~ Respect for human persons acknowledges that God lives in them and that he reveals himself in and through them. It acknowl-edges that words of life come from the lowly as well as the pow-erful. In fact, St. Vincent became gradually convinced that "the poor have the true religion" and that we must be evangelized by them.22 Many of the recently published texts of Brother Louis Robineau, which relate his pe,rsonal experience of Vincent de Paul, attest to the saint's deep, respect for persons of all types. September-October 1992 669 Maloney ¯ Listening Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authentic communities. Robineau notes how well Vincent listened to them: poor and rich, lay and clerical, peasant and royal.23 In this context, the process of questioning persons that is involved in the quest for truth takes on a new light. When there is deep respect for all human persons, questioning involves a genuine search for enlightenment, rather than being, in some hidden way, refutation or accusation. Questioning is a tool for delving deeper, for unpeeling layers of meaning, for knowing the other person bet-ter, for digging toward the core of the truth. As we attempt to develop increasing respect for human persons, surely we must ask some challenging questions. Are we really able to hear the cries of the poor, of the most oppressed: the women and chil-dren, who are often the poorest members of society; those discriminated against because of race, color, nationality, religion; the AIDS victims, who are often shunned by their families and by the physically healthy; those on the "edges of life," the helpless infants and the helpless aged, who are unable to speak for themselves? Are we able to hear the counsel given to us by others: by spiritual directors, by members of our own com-munities, by the documents of the church and our own religious congregations? Are we sensitive to the contributions that come from other sources of human wisdom (like economics, sociology, the audiovisual media, the massive data now available in com-puterized form) that often speak concretely about the needs of the poor, that can help us find and combat the causes of poverty or that can assist us in the new evangelization called for by the church? Are we alert, "listening," to the "signs of the times": the increasing gap between the rich and the poor and the repeated call for justice made by the church; the movement toward unity within global society, which is now accompanied by an opposite movement toward separatism and nationalism; the growth of the church in the southern hemisphere, which contrasts with its diminishment in many places in the northern hemisphere. The fourth quality needed is attentiveness, one of the most important signs of respect for the human person. It is the first step in all evangelization, the prerequisite for serving Christ in the poor. It is only when the servant is attentive to the needs of the master (in this case, the poor person) that he really knows what to 670 Review for Religious bring him. It is only when the evangelizer is alert to the needs of the listener that she is able to communicate genuinely good news. Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authen-tic communities. If community members do not pay close atten-tion to the opinions and needs of those they live with, each person becomes isolated even if still physically present to others. Those living in community must therefore continually seek renewed ways of listening to each other and of sharing their prayer, their apostolic experience, their struggles in community, their successes and failures, their joys and sorrows. Attentiveness is also of the greatest importance as one seeks counsel. Robineau relates how often St. Vincent asked others their' opinion about matters at hand, "even the least in the house." He often heard him say that "four eyes are better than two, and six better than four.''24 Robineau relates an interesting incident in this regard: One day he did me the honor of telling me that it was nec-essary to make it our practice, when consulting someone about some matter, always to recount everything that would be to the advantage of the opposing party without omitting anything, just as if it were the opposing party itself that was there to give its reasons and defend itself, and that it was thus that consultations should be carried out.zs Listening in Community Meetings, along with consultations and questionnaires of var-ious sorts, are among the primary means of listening in commu-nity. Like most realities, meetings are "for better or for worse." Almost all of us have experienced some that we find very fruitful and others that we would be happy to forget about. To put it in another way, meetings can be a time of grace or a time when sin threatens grace. Communities, like individuals, can become caught up in them-selves. A healthy self-concern can gradually slip into an unhealthy self-preoccupation. Outgoing zeal can be replaced by self-cen-tered security seeking. Communities can be rescued from this state, in a way analogous to that of individuals, only through cor-porate humility,26 a communal effort to listen to God and com-munal attentiveness to the words of others. September-October 1992 671 Maloney ¯ Listening Meetings can be a time when sin threatens grace. When there is no listening, they create strife and division. They disrupt rather than unify. They deepen the darkness rather than focus the light. Among the signs that sin is at work in meetings is fighting. When participants do not listen, there is inevitable strife, bad feelings, disillusionment, bitterness. Such meetings result in fleeing. The group backs away from major decisions, especially those that demand some conversion; it refuses to listen to the prophets; it seeks refuge in the status quo. A further consequence is fractur-ing. When participants do not listen, badly divided splinter groups form; the "important" conversations take place in the corridors rather than in the meeting hall; politics, in the worst sense, takes the place of discernment. Meetings can be an opportunity for grace. They provide us with a wonderful opportunity for listening and discernment. They enable communities to work toward decisions together, as a com-munity. In order for this to happen, those who meet must be com-mitted to sharing their common heritage, creating a climate of freedom for discussion, and planning courageously for the future. In meetings where God is at work, we recall our heritage in order to renew it. We listen to and retell "our story." We recount and rehear the deeds of the Lord in our history. We celebrate our gratitude in the Eucharist and let thanksgiving fill our hearts, for we have heard the wonderful works of the Lord. We share com-munal prayer and reflection because the faith of others strength-ens us. The atmosphere will be grace-filled if all are eager to listen to each other. If all arrive without hardened positions and preju-dices, convinced that the group must seek the truth together, then the groundwork for the emergence of truth has already been laid. The content, no matter how concrete or seemingly pedes-trian, will be grace-filled if all hear the word of God together, listen to each other's reflections on that word, and make deci-sions on that basis. The decisions of a listening community will flow from its heritage while developing the heritage in the light of contemporary circumstances.27 Meetings play an important role within God's providence. God provides for the growth of communities through wise deci-sions that govern their future, especially the training of the young, the ongoing formation of all members, and care for the aging. But such decisions can be made only if the members of the com- 672 Review for Religious munity are willing to listen to the data that describes its present situation and projects its future needs. Communal decision mak-ing, based on realistic projections, is one of the ways in which providence operates in community life. Failure to listen to the data--difficult though it may sometimes be to "hear" it honestly-- results in calamitous "blindness" and "deafness." The listening individual and the listening community will surely grow, for listening is the foundation of all spirituality. To the listener come truth, wisdom, the assurance of being loved. To those who fail to listen comes increasing isolation. Jesus, like the prophets, knew that listening made demands and consequently was often lacking. He lamented its absence: "Sluggish indeed is this people's heart. They have scarcely heard with their ears, they have firmly closed their eyes; otherwise they might see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and under-stand with their hearts, and turn back to me, and I should heal them" (Mt 13:15). He also rejoiced in its presence: "But . . . blessed are your ears because they hear" (Mt 13:16). In recent years many congregations have attempted to assist individuals, local communities, and assemblies to listen better, In workshops much effort has been put into fostering practical lis-tening skills. But are there ways in which communities, particu-larly during initial formation, can better communicate the importance of listening as foundational for growth? If listening is the foundation of all spirituality, as this article has tried to show, then it is crucial for personal growth and for the vitality of all communities. Notes ~ Sandra Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 684. 2 See Ga 2:19-21: "I have been crucified with Christ, and the life I live now is not my own: Christ is living in me. Of course, I still live my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." The Greek text identifies Jesus as the self-giving one. It also makes it clear that self-transcendence does not wipe out true human-ity, but fulfills it. 3 Bernard Lonergan, A Third Collection, ed. Frederick Crowe (New York: Paulist, 1985), p. 9. 4 See K. Rahner, Grundkurs des Glaubens (Freiburg: Herder, 1984), pp. 35f, 42f. Septewtber-October 1992 673 Maloney ¯ Listening s Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans. John K. Ryan (New York: Doubleday, 1972), pp. 107 and 108. 6 Common Rules H, 7. 7 SV IX, 674; see Common Rules H, 7. 8 SV X, 439. 9 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racontdpar son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.I.L., 1991), §46 and §54. 10 See SVIX, 119; X, 332. 1~ See Evangelii Nuntiandi, §15. 12 Common Rules H, 1. ,3 Ibid. 14 Abelly, Book III, 72-73. ~s SV XI, 69. ~6SV IX, 526. ~7 D. Bonhoeffer, Life Together (London: SCM Press, 1954), p. 75. ~Common Rules H, 7. 19 SV I, 182. 20 Gaudium et Spes, §§9, 12, and 22; Redemptor Hominis, passim. 21 Centesimus Annus, ~54. 22 SV XII, 171. 23 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racont? par son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.LL., 1991), especially §§71-83. 24 Ibid, §52. 25 Ibid, §118. 26 Vincent de Paul repeatedly emphasized the need for corporate humility if the congregations he founded were to grow. See SV II, 233: "I think the spirit of the Mission must be to seek its greatness in lowli-ness and its reputation in the love of its abjection." 27 In his essays on spirituality, Karl Rahner distinguishes between "material" and "formal" imitation of Christ. In material imitation, one seeks to do the concrete things that Jesus did, ignoring the extent to which everything he did was influenced by his social context. In formal imitation, one seeks to find the core meaning of what Jesus said or did and apply it within the changed social context. 674 Review for Religious JOHN WICKHAM Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth Both in coming to understand our own spiritual develop-ment and (should we be engaged in spiritual direction) in reflecting on where a directee of ours may presently be moving, a sense of the various kinds of transition that often occur can be a great help. I assume here that spiritual growth (changes, new data) are to be expected, are even to be sought. Quite a number of transitions are possible. One can move, for example, from a life of mortal sin to a life of sanctifying grace, from a rather legalistic reliance on external rules to a life of per-sonal choices; or, at the other end of the spectrum, one can move from a devout life to a life of advanced mystical prayer. But two other transitions deserve, I think, special attention today. The two developments I have in mind are often at issue in the Spiritual Exercises ofSt. Ignatiushone of them in the First and Second Weeks taken as a whole, and the other in the unit formed by the Third and Fourth Weeks. In his active spirituality St. Ignatius may be said to have reshaped the "Three Ways" (purgative, illuminative, unitive) into two spiritual transitions, each of which reveals both a negative and a positive side. This essay will attempt to describe and study these two major movements that occur in many dedicated lives. After each of them has been clarified, their relationship and especially their differ-ences will require comment. John Wickham sJ is director of the Ignatian Centre of Spirituality, which prepares and accredits directors. His address is 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec H4B 2A7; Canada. Septentber-October 1992 675 The First Transition Assuming, as St. Ignatius does at the start of his First Week Rules for Discernment, that we are in touch with persons living a good Christian life, striving to get free of sinful ways and to grow into closer union with God, then this first important tran-sition may be seen to move from relying mainly on getting emo-tional satisfaction to discerning spiritual consolations received from the Lord and felt in the heart. This formulation makes a contrast between emotions and feelings (or felt knowing). Emotions in this usage refer to per-sonal responses to objects in the external world around us (through our five senses) and to interpersonal events in our social setting. There is nothing wrong, of course, with emotional expe-riences. Emotions are often the main stuff of human life. In their endless varieties they fill most of our daily hours. We wake up in one mood and at night perhaps we drift off to sleep in the grip of another. Between times we may be surprised by shifts and changes of emotion or brood over a lingering mystery of emotional confusion. Persons without emotional reactions are hard to bear. We might wonder if they suffer from some disorder. But perhaps their emotions are not warm and pleasant but of the cold, off-putting kind. Whatever their nature, we can be sure that our emotional responses provide the real texture of human life. In themselves they are part and parcel of God's creation. And like other creatures they may be put to good use or they may get us into trouble. Returning to the formula given above, what needs emphasis at this point is the habit of relying too much on emotional satisfac-tions. When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. We can become stuck right there. Without realizing the fact, we may be expect-ing God to deliver emotional satisfaction to us and we get angry when God fails to do so. We pray, in effect, a self-centered prayer, "my will be done on earth--not Thine!" While nothing is wrong with emotions in themselves, we can put too much stock in them. Let us be honest, many of us do so a good part of the time. We come to rely almost entirely on our own emotional states. If they are satisfying, "God is good!" If not, "God has rejected me!"--or we imagine things are going wrong. 676 Revie'w for Religious One of the major troubles of social life is to have others inflict their moods on us--because they tend to interpret the nature of reality in terms of current emotions. "The emotion that grips me now tells me who I am and what the world is doing to me." Even if we can avoid inflicting our emo-tional state on others, we still often experience the world in accord with our emotional state at the moment. As the poet Pope tells us, "All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye"--and the world looks rosy through rose-colored glasses. Our emotions easily become a lens that colors our world--for the time they last. This is often how we are as we begin our spiritual journey. There is nothing very surprising about it. And so a well-known stage of purification consists in getting free of emotional demands. First comes the step of noticing our emotional reactions, of naming them as they occur, and of refusing to identify our being with their con-tinuance. In order to become liberated from their insistent claim upon us, we learn to do small penances. In the past there has often been a danger of coming to despise our own emotions--an undesirable side-effect when struggling to gain freedom by willpower alone from these emotional claims. ~Without further treatment of that point, I merely note here the need to avoid puritanical efforts in this transition. We are dealing with spiritual growth, which is always initiated and brought about by divine grace. We do, of course, need to cooperate with such graces, and small penitential acts are forms of cooperation. But our highly emotive personal responses are right and true in themselves. Even if emotional self-denial is necessary for a cer-tain time, we will need to return to our emotions just as soon as we can get free of their tyranny. Then they may become, not only right and true, but beautiful and even holy. Emotional self-denial is only a temporary ploy within a larger movement of growth, not the main aim of the spiritual life. An egotistical tendency (if it is present) to invest our sense of self mainly in our emotional satisfactions needs to be purified during the First Week exercises. That is, of course, a rather sub-jective way of approaching the areas of sinfulness that call for purification, but it seems appropriate here because I am focus- When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. September-October 1992 677 ,Wick~ ham ¯ Key Transitions,, ing on interior transitions. The Rules for Discernment them-selves lay heavy stress on the desolations to be expected in a per-son striving to move forward, and on the need to persevere in that intention despite the losses of emotional satisfaction that may be experienced. Spiritual Feeling In the more positive phases of the continuing transition, spir-itual consolations arising from moments of union with Jesus the Lord may make their presence felt as one enters the Second Week of the Exercises. It is assumed at this point that exercitants have already heard the call of Christ to follow him and have responded (with varying degrees of enthusiasm) to that summons. And dur-ing the contemplations of the public life that follow, each one must learn how to discern true from false consolations. An elementary principle to be noted here is that consolations of the Lord are not to be identified as "feeling good" and deso-lations as "feeling bad." Many today use the term "feeling" in a general sense that includes (or mainly denotes) what I have described above as emotions. That is a defensible usage, but in this essay I wish to separate the term "feelings" from the term "emo-tions" as already defined. I want to cast light on the rather dif-ferent movements we may experience at a deeper, more interior level of our being. In other words, I wish to define feeling (an enduring state) and feelings (momentary events or "touches") as personal responses that occur at our spiritual center in the core of our being, and not primarily in our social world. Humans may be said to enjoy a double-leveled awareness, one with outer and inner dimensions. In this discussion I am using emotions to refer to responses at the outer level, and feeling to refer to responses at the inner level. Quite correctly, it should be insisted that outer and inner lev-els are continually interacting together. Whena sudden event moves us wholly, it is often true that emotions and feelings are impossible to distinguish. Tears start from our eyes, our heart is fully engaged, we cry out with joy or sorrow, we even experience sensations in our body (waves of heat or cold, tingling of the spine, pressures in hands or feet, a burning forehead, and so on). Similar points may be made about calmer experiences as well. 678 Review for Religious In fact, it is normal for human beings to "sense" a two-way intercourse between outer and inner events, between what occurs in the social world and simultaneously in the interior feeling. Our reflective capacity, which is not merely mental but also passion-ate, is precisely what makes our awareness human. Our con-sciousness is multidimensional. While we know and feel, we also know we are knowing and feeling. And when we respond emo-tionally, we are aware at the same time of various intuitions under-lying our most emphatic emotions. Even when we "forget our self" in some activity or other, that welcome effect is considered unusual--an exception to the rule, and never total. Besides, an egotistical self-awareness is not the only kind of selfhood we may experience. We may be full of self-doubt, for example, or eagerness, or mistrust, or calm happiness, and so on. The Inner Self All the same, what is transpiring in this first transition is pre-cisely a development of interior selfhood. As certain modes of dominance by the outer self are overcome, we receive a new growth of inner self---a very important transition in anyone's life. Today we may take it for granted that the "self" we are talk-ing about, no matter how much trouble it may get us into, is a positive value in its own right, not to be identified with mere self-ishness or false egotism. Only fairly recently did this new assump-tion gain acceptance. For example, in The Imitation of Christ the term "self" was rarely used except in a pejorative sense, and it followed that one's main goal was to get free of it as much as possible. That view continued to be the dominant one until only a few decades ago. The shift that has taken place so recently has brought with it a new sense of the human subject, of selfhood as a valuable reality-- however much it may need to be discovered, owned, purified, and developed. A much stronger awareness of the "inner-self"--at least as a potential reality--has arisen among many members of our secu-lar culture today. Often we know it first for negative reasons: we are hurt, we feel misunderstood, we are unable to communicate our special desires or intentions, we are judged wrongly or become unsure of what we really meant. It causes a great deal of confusion, September-October 1992 679 anger, resentment, and so on. But at some point or other it may dawn on us that, despite the urgent need we may be feeling for much more growth and clarity, our inner self is a reality, valu-able in and for its own simple being. We may begin to experi-ence our own goodness as a fact. It need not, and cannot, be earned or proven. It is just "given." Through faith I may know that my personal existence is received from God who does not choose to make me without lov-ing me. My selfhood is real and my unique being is loved--even holy. That realization is such a remarkable event in anyone's life that it calls for prolonged attention and care during the earlier stages of spiritual growth. Since I assume that the above reality is widely recognized and appreciated today, I wish to focus now upon the kind of transition involved in its realization. An individual coming through that key transition begins to experience things in a personal way that may be called heartfelt. They are spiritual feelings and illuminations in the inner self. These consolations (or desolations) differ noticeably in qual-ity from emotions experienced in the outer, social world. And the transition from relying mainly on emotions to rel~ing mainly upon spiritual consolations (feeling) is a very significant "moment" in one's development. Not a False but a True Self This transition has been the main aim of novitiate programs ii~ recent centuries, although in most cases the novitiate was directed toward the positive adoption of each congregation's way of life. In other words, a single spiritual "style" or mode of oper-ation was proposed for every novice to imitate and put into prac-tice, and what needed to be sacrificed in order to obtain this goal was the ordinary tendency to demand emotional satisfactions for oneself. The self in question was taken to be wholly "selfish" and needed to be "offered up." Today a single spiritual lifestyle imposed on everyone alike has been replaced by "the charism of the founder/foundress" in a way that leaves room for the unique selfhood of each member to receive recognition and approval. As a result, the sense of self in question had to be clarified. The false self, which needs to be purified, is one that demands 680 Revievo for Religious emotional satisfactions and is upset when these are not forth-coming. But the true self, to be realized through penance and pa.tient striving against desolations, is received as a gift from God and recognized in consolations consisting of spiritual feeling and preconceptual knowing (experiences of sentir). A special way of following Christ, modeled in each congre-gation by the founder/foundress, will enable new members to undergo a radical purification of their conscious (or outer) self in the process of identifying their center of being in their heart's core. Members of vowed congregations who were trained in the older system have likely gone through an adjustment of this sort during recent decades. Each one will need to say how he or she has made the required adaptation, if indeed it has taken place, and what precisely was involved. But in general it may be said with some confidence that this first transition, which is of primary importance in spiritual growth, has been clarified as the emergence of an inner self united with the Lord in discipleship. What prevents its growth is usually the habit of expecting or relying upon emotional satisfactions, a habit which must be changed if the desired transition is to take place. Once it has been changed, and soon after the new inner self has grown accustomed to spiritual consolations, a reintegration of the'whole person with her or his emotional responses should then commence. This process will involve the formation of new social habits on the basis of the inner self so recently received from the Lord as a true actuation of one's potential being. The Second Transition An expectation of further growth should not disappear from our purview for too long after the first transition has been com-pleted. True enough, a directee who begins to enjoy true spiritual consolations does require considerable time (perhaps several years) to integrate them and create a new way of life on the basis of the inner self they bring alive. But the moment will inevitably come when remembering past graces will no longer suffice. As soon as signs of this new need begin to appear, the director (if not the directee) ought to recognize them. Such signs may point to the onset of a second, rather different transition. What might signs of this new sort be like? In general, con-solations of "the Second Week type" curiously do not seem to Septentber-October 1992 681 Wickbam ¯ Key Transitions operate "as well as" ones of an earlier stage. In different contexts, we should notice, St. Ignatius employs the same word, "consola-tion," in somewhat different senses. In the First Week, for exam-ple, which deals with persons who seek to be more and more purified from their sins, the ferm simply means experiences lead-ing to closer union with God. But in the Second Week it means experiences of persons bound in close discipleship to the Lord; because these apparent consolations may come from God or from the enemy, they need to be examined much more carefully. It is my contention here that the term is further varied in the Third and Fourth Weeks: if it gains in nuance by moving from the purgative to the illuminative way, we should not be surprised that it varies again in moving to the unitive way. It is usually rather puzzling to find that "what used to make me happy no longer does so." Naturally enough, we normally expect things to continue as they were. But the fact of the matter is that we may change so significantly (because of Our authentic spiritual growth) that what used to console us does not console us any more. Former ways, including ways of praying, that we had first discovered with some difficulty and later came to enjoy with a sense of real progress now seem to leave us cold. They no longer satisfy our hearts, but instead cause a certain malaise or uneasiness. It can be quite disconcerting. What can have gone wrong? At first we may fasten on various explanations: we are not trying hard enough; we have grown com-placent and lack humility; we should return to our former graces with renewed enthusiasm, and so on. But try as we will, the loss of taste, the lack of any real sense of meaning and .value in our usual way of life, continues to bother us. Of course, many different factors may be relevant in the case of each person. But I want to introduce the possibility of a new kind of transition as an important consideration in many cases. If indeed the divine Spirit is moving us to a new stage of growth, then we are obliged to give it some attention. Unitive Experiences Since what I will be describing his to do with the unitive way, let me begin by insisting that this traditional stage of spiritual development is not exceptional, not meant for only a very few persons, and not regularly accompanied by unusual mystical phe- 682 Review for Religious nomena. Unitive graces are an ordinary occurrence in most devout lives, just as are those of the illuminative and purgative ways. (Besides, concretely speaking, even after one has discerned unitive experiences, he or she is not usually separated for very long from renewed moments of purification and illumination. Perhaps one should stress the fact that occasional unitive graces do not mean one is "firmly established" in the unitive way--what-ever that may mean.) It is my conviction that the Third and Fourth Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises cannot be reduced to a "confirmation of Second Week graces." That may be legitimate in many cases, but the limitation ought to be spelled out rather than turned into a general rule. Let me be explicit: a limitation of Third and Fourth Week graces occurs quite legitimately when the individual person has for the first time received graces belonging to the first transition or when a notable deepening of that transition has been granted. In other words, the person's "inner self" has been realized or deep-ened in graces of union with Christ--and this is quite new for this individual. In that case (and it is a very important develop-ment) the Third and Fourth Weeks are likely to consist mainly of graces that confirm the key event that has so recently transformed the person involved. The Passion of Jesus may be shared in many different ways-- even by the same people at different times. I may cling to the cross in a sort of desperation if I am in serious danger of falling into mortal sin. Or during a crisis of decision making or of self-doubt I may dwell in the Garden of Gethsemane. Alternatively, I might find my personal illness or injuries transformed by a new way of sharing in the sufferings of Christ. Or I could accept obsta-cles thrown across my path, get free of resentments that have long bothered me, or deal more creatively with insults and humil-iations that come my way by prayerfully participating in what the Lord endured in his Passion out of love for me. This list could be much extended, but I simply wish to illus-trate here the wide variety of possible experiences we may find. At least a mention may be made of special graces of union with the Passion, such as we may read about in St. Juliana or other spiri-tual writers. Some of these may be clarified in what follows, but my main concern is to speak about Third Week (and Fourth Week) graces in a way that might enable ordinary Christians seek- September-October 1992 683 ~ickham ¯ Key Transitions ing a closer union with the Lord to recognize the possible mean-ing of unitive experiences that may also have been given to them. When the Passion of Christ "confirms" the first transition in the experience of a given directee, then that person's union with the Lord (so recently received or deepened) may be clarified and strengthened through worldly rejections and insults, even when these are taken in prayer to the limit situations of betrayal, impris-onment, violence, condemnation, and death. In other words, one's interior meaning and value as a person created and saved by the Lord and called to his service will become much more surely "known" in consolations received when contemplating the Passion. The Resurrection contemplations, in similar fashion, may confirm the previous grace more positively through experiences of a new way of life operating out of spiritual feelings received in the depths of the inner self. Those "Second Week" consolations may become clarified and strengthened through experiences of union with the risen Lord. Such graces received during the Fourth Week are to be discerned, unless I am mistaken, as confirming the Second Week graces already obtained by the directee. Limiting the Last Two Weeks In short, in these cases (only), confirmation of the Election in the Passion and Resurrection contemplations may be taken as appropriate during the Third and Fourth Weeks. This means that the central grace of the Spiritual Exercises is seen to be one of inti-mate personal union with Jesus (most fully revealed in the Election). What I have called the "first transition" may be rec-ognized as the main event for the individual person one is direct-ing-- even during the last two Weeks. So frequently is this the case today that many directors tend to consider it the only true goal of the Third and Fourth Weeks. But if that is so, then their notion of the unitive way has become dangerously foreshortened. For all practical purposes, it has been subordinated to the purgative and illuminative ways. But if the unitive way is truly a normal dimension in the growth of every devout Christian (as I believe it to be), then its omission from the Spiritual Exercises would be a limitation that raises serious questions. And to restrict unitive graces to a few exceptional persons would, in my opinion, be equally damaging. There is secular evidence to give us pause today. When 684 Review fbr Religious Maslow began to publish his findings on "peak experiences," he was under the impression that only a small number of persons had undergone this type of interior opening. But further research by himself and others produced widespread testimonies to simi-lar events. Eventually he reached the conviction that peak expe-riences of one kind or another are universal, although ignored or repressed by a hardy few. While his concept of "peak experiences" is ambiguous and may refer to quite a wide range of phenomena, his evidence cannot be restricted to what I have named the first transition. What I would like to call the second transition, then, would always assume the previous acquisition of first-transition graces. For example, if we suppose that a directee before making the Spiritual Exercises has already received profound graces of the Second Week type, what would likely occur during the first two Weeks? Usually one would expect the directee to receive confir-matory graces during those meditations and contemplations. But I would add that such prayer experiences might also be prepara-tory to more advanced graces possibly to be offered during Weeks Three and Four. If a director is not open to this possibility, then the fore-shortening of the Exercises, already mentioned, becomes all too likely. And if the more advanced graces of the second transition are actually given, such a director would not know what to make of them. The directee's experiences might easily be misunder-stood and the director could fall into false discernments. I believe that this has in fact occurred far too often. Challenges to a Good Way of Life The reality of spiritual growth reveals how frequendy believ-ers find that God disallows their apparently excellent form of commitment to the divine service. "The rug is pulled out from under their feet," we could say. Let us assume, for the sake of argument here, that the way of life of a given directee is truly unselfish and generous. It has been discerned carefully under direction, and has in fact become fruitful in its apostolic outreach. Is it possible that God might call the individual to surrender, or move away from, this entirely good way of life? Not only is it possible, it ftequendy takes place. A car accident, a heart attack, a financial loss, or social changes intervene to make September-October 1992 685 IVickbam ¯ Key Transitions our chosen course no longer viable. From many (limited) points of view, this makes no sense at all. But the point of view that mat-ters is the divine one--where we are called to believe and trust without knowing why, without making our own merely "common sense views" the final criterion in our discernment. This is what must have challenged Mary, the Mother of Jesus, on that first Holy Saturday. To her way of thinking, what could have been better than the life and teaching of Jesus? And yet its rejection in Israel was permitted by the divine mystery. Mary had to accept that baffling course of events, painful as it was in the extreme, without any "human" understanding of its value. We might say that God asked her to endure a spiritual death in her own heart corresponding exactly with the actual death of her Son. If this line of thought is pushed a little further, of course, we may perceive that the Passion and Death of Jesus was itself most acutely a spiritual death for our Lord himself. Had he not set his heart upon the conversion of Israel whom he desired to gather under his wings as a hen gathers her chicks? But they would not have it so. Instead, he was compelled to accept the rejection of his teachings, and of himself with them, at the hands of those in Israel who were in positions of wealth, prestige, and power. Only a few remained his followers. Jesus embraced this destiny out of love for all his people (including the very ones who were bent on his destruction). Not only did he accept the loss of what he had hoped to gain, but he did so with generosity of spirit. And so the Father raised him to a new role in the course of our history, a role that brought him into direct relation with every nation on earth. That spiritual death, which he so fully accepted, led to a new form of spiritual life for every people--even for ourselves. This, of course, is the pattern set for all of us by our Lord in his paschal mystery. But it should be obvious that we do not reach the fuller modes of participation all at once. Only gradually over many years do the devout followers of Jesus find the path to a more complete union with the Lord in the mystery of divine pur-pose. This does not mean that what we presently do will certainly be taken away during our course of active life (that remains a mystery of the future). It means only that, if we do move forward in union with the Lord, our basic attitude toward what we do and who we are will likely be tested in a more radical way. Even so, 686 Re~ie~ for Religious those who know us externally may not even notice the changes occurring deep within us. But somehow, through threats of illness, accidents, or altered situations that touch each one of us deeply, experiences like those that came upon our Lady and the other disciples of our Lord-- experiences, that is, of a spiritual death corresponding to the actual death embraced by Jesus out of love--will need to be encountered. And if we are graced by the divine love, we may pass through that "radicalization of the paschal mystery" so as to enter into a new kind of life in God--or at least into momentary tastes of it. This is what I mean by unitive graces. The Root of the Matter The term "radicalization" refers to the removal of more deeply rooted barriers to union with the Lord. Negative events similar to the ones mentioned above may occur in our lives, of course, without becoming the occasion of unitive graces. What is assumed here is that advanced graces of purification from sin have already been received, and that graces of intimate discipleship have also been conferred which have enabled well-discerned com-mitments to service of the Lord's kingdom in this world. It is only some years after a first transition has been made that certain neg-ative events may trigger an experience of lost selfhood or lost capacity for going on--even though outwardly one still goes throughthe motions that resemble a normal life. But why is it necessary to "die" to our good interior self in order to "live" in the heights of the spirit? Whatever answers we attempt will necessarily dwell within the mystery of divine union. Does our chosen way of life in its underpinnings somehow tend to place a barrier between ourselves and God? If so, why should that be? Does our most intimate sense of true selfhood always to some degree (because it remains unfinished) hinder us in our encoun-ters with God? Does our entry into utter transcendence always call for a further surrender--and yet never actually deny the validity of our individual and communal being? (These are far from being new questions--they belong to a well-worn tradition.) Sometimes our experiences of union seem to emphasize a oneness that obliterates awareness of distinct selfhood or to bring about a newness of love-identity in the Other that makes us eas- September-October 1992 687 ily forget our usual human longing for recognition as individuals. True. But these passing tastes and their remembered glories refer to unitive graces which at first can stun us with their breakthrough "difference." By this I mean that the experiential qualities tend to capture too much attention at first--they are new to us, very fulfilling, and so ~ometimes a bit extravagant. Nonetheless, the substantial reality of a grace, once given, is never taken away by the Lord even though the experiential aspects are temporary. We remember the experiences, but we are still inwardly changed and even "put together" differently by the substantial character of those gifts. The Way of the Cross In the specific case of unitive graces, however, a prior expe-rience of spiritual death points to another factor. There is no way to Easter, as we know, that does not pass through Calvary. In the terms already used above, this means that radical experiences of union with the risen Lord in the "heights of the spirit" are not possible for us until we have undergone a spiritual death "in the depths of the soul." P~erhaps this factor can be clarified by saying that we are not ready for unitive graces (of the Fourth Week type of consolation) until we have experienced the loss of interior consolations previ-ously given us (Second Week spiritual feelings and illuminations). In terms of selfhood, we might say that we must die (not to any false self, but) to the good "inner self" given to us in the first transition. Only the loss of that very g~od gift can prepare us to receive a "higher self," spiritually communicated to us by the risen Christ in this second transition. In consequence, the two transitions I have been describing are related in the Spiritual Exercises--and beyond them. The "spiritual death" that essentially prepares for the second transition is the experiential loss precisely of the grace already received in the first transition. There can be no second transition, then, if the first has not previously occurred. We should note that the "second kind of humility" is cer-tainly meant for use in the Election. The "third kind of humility," on the other hand, is intended to enable directees--should they actually receive that grace--to move forward into the second tran-sition after their full acceptance of the first. 688 Review for Religious Concretely, of course, this conceptual clarity is muddied by many variations in practice: both transitions may be combined or crossmated, along with backward and forward movements, fre-quent delays and regressions, sudden spurts and more sudden withdrawals--endless "visions and revisions," as Eliot puts it. The actual circumstances do not often present ready-made examples for our mental laboratory. MI the same, our awareness of the "crucial" contrast between the second transition and the first may prove helpful. If the approach taken here is even approximately correct, then we may be assisted in discerning the special qualities of second-transition experiences, especially in their earlier phases (of the Third Week sort). And this may enable us to avoid false strictures on our own or others' responses to these movements of grace. Qualities of the New Life The first transition, then, moves an individual from relying mainly on emotional satisfactions to receiving spiritual consola-tions in the inner self. The sedond transition may be said to move one from a well-accepted habit of interior union with the Lord and a way of life based upon it to a new life received directly from the risen Christ and enabling experiences of a higher self. It remains to suggest various qualities of the higher life that is enabled by unitive graces. First of all, although one's ordinary life, of course, continues, along with it (and not only behind it but also "in among" it) there is known to be a divine presence-- ever so delicate and respectful of one's freedom. That factor may grow more powerful at certain times, but often it remains gentle, although unmistakable. Another feature is a "higher" movement of the Spirit--rather unlike the heartwarming and compelling graces of the first tran-sition (which are usually "deep" and "interior" in quality). It is the awareness of divine mystery operating everywhere, bringing about God's will despite all evidence to the contrary; it is a dis-position to wait for God to reveal the divine will, to expect this and not to be surprised when it comes. It means not to speak until words are given, not to act until one "knows" how the Lord desires to act in the community. These few features may be taken as examples of the higher life (often seen in the lives of the saints). In general, that nothing Septentber-October 1992 689 should prevent God from loving others through my life becomes the central desire of my existence, the main reason for continu-ing to live. It need not, on the other hand, mean that the interior expe-riences of the inner self do not return and are not customary in one who has received unitive graces. It is just that one can no longer identify oneself with them. They are available at times and should be exercised. But they may also be taken away, and one is ready now to let them go. All this is possible because the risen Lord has made his divine presence felt by uplifting one to the level of his own activities in the church, in each person, and in every part of the world. Burning Bush Afire burns outside my bedroom window, October-red euonymus its name. As I look down The blood-red leaves leap up Vivid as living rivulets of flame. Transfixed, ! stand, New-wakened in the early autumn dawn. Then, barefoot, kneel, Obedient, Although no voice is heard. What angel calls me - silent? "Here I am!" I almost cry, Drawn by this shock of unconsuming fire To listen, stricken as Moses, For some name, some quickening word. Therese Lynch csJ 690 Revie'w fbr Religious DAVID E O'CONNOR Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition As we try to read the "signs of the times" and prepare for an unknown future, we should not forget the lessons of the past. We should take note of the cultural, theologi-cal, ecclesial, ideological, and generational influences that have moved our personal and collective lives as religious in certain directions. And we should be alert to the factual changes, adjustments, adaptations, and developments which seem to indicate some of the shapes and forms that religious life may be taking as we approach the third mil-lennium. religious life Recalling the Lessons of History Recent historical scholarship has opened our eyes to the uneven history of religious life--a history filled with crises and chaos, with high points and low? Interestingly, there have been relatively short periods of time when the church and religious life appeared to enjoy some institu-tional tranquillity and stability. More than once the whole concept of religious life seemed doomed to extinction by events out of control. Religious in North America, especially during the first part of the twentieth century preceding the Second Vatican David O'Connor ST teaches at the Washington Theological Union. He is the author of Witness and Service: Questions about Religious Life Today (Paulist Press, 1990). His address is 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Septetttber-October 1992 691 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Council, found themselves in one of those rare stable periods in the church. It was a time when the highest leadership in the Roman Catholic Church, beginning in the late nineteenth century and ending only in the middle of the twentieth, had chosen a defensive and protective position, effectively withdrawing from a changing and modern world which, in fact, was often hostile to it. The Catholic Church centralized itself at the Vatican to a degree unknown until then. Within this same period of time, the Catholic Church in the United States developed and flourished.2 American Catholics were, for the most part, an immigrant population that experi-enced the hostility of the WASP (white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant) culture. While retaining a fierce loyalty to Rome, they tried to prove they were loyal Americans as well. For them the Roman Catholic Church appeared to be the model of stability and the rock of certitude. Although the worldwide Catholic Church of this period seemed intransigent, it was, in fact, still recovering from the buf-feting of social and historical changes that had rocked it at the end of the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth. Following the French Revolution, religious life and many other institutions of the church seemed to be in their death throes. Yet, by the beginning of the twentieth century, it was clear that the church and religious life had recovered their vitality and were experi-encing unprecedented growth. In the 150 years preceding Vatican II, religious life had more than recovered from previous losses. Statistically, its number of members peaked in 1965.3 The post-Vatican II period, through which we are presently living, has been one of immense social and cultural changes. The council fathers thrust the church into the modern world, and fall-out from this movement of the Spirit in the church has occa-sioned a difficult time of transition for all, especially religious in the Western world. The rnove from a church-imposed inflexibil-ity and rigidity of the pre-Vatican II period to a church-initiated reform of religious life in the post-Vatican II period brought about an upheaval that was radical and spectacular in its magni-tude and complexity.4 No one could have imagined the depth and breadth of these changes. Indeed, we are still too close to events to make a true assessment. We will have to leave that to a future generation. Presently, it is still difficult to read the signs of the times because they are so ambiguous. Yet one of the clear lessons 692 Review for Religious of history is that drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. God does speak to us through history. One of the more important lessons of history is that, while religious life appears to be perennial, individual religious insti-tutes are not. Dedication, consecra-tion, and commitment to Jesus and his people are evident in the lives of groups and individuals throughout the history of the church, but the forms these have taken and their specific expression in individual groups, communities, monasteries, and institutes does change. Institutes are like people--they are born, they grow, they live their lives, and even-tually they die.s V~hile monastic groups can sur-vive with a minimum of members, and even decrease to a handful of people in one or two monasteries, apostolic institutes cannot. Apostolic groups frequently respond to spe-cific needs at certain times and in particular places in the life of the church. Once they have achieved their purposes, they tend to fade away or find new life through adaptation and change. In any case, an apostolic group requires many members to fulfill its corpo-rate role and purpose. The institutional life of these religious, all things considered, is much shorter and more tenuous than that of monastic groups. However, some forms of religious life have had the ability to be revitalized over and over again through reform, adaptation, and new expressions. One need only consider the Rule of St. Benedict, which has been adjusted to multiple forms of monastic and quasimonastic life. While individual monasteries or groups of them fade away, new ones are established in other places and times. Each institute has its own life to live. Not a few have seemed to be dying out or even were suppressed, as was the Drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. September-October 1992 693 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Society of Jesus in 1773, only to be given new life and experi-ence spectacular growth. Nevertheless, breakdown and death are probably inevitable for every religious institute. Some may have a very short life and others may live for an unusually long time, just as individual per-sons do. Calamities and misfortunes overtake certain groups. It might be combinations of political and economic or social and religious events which occasion their breakdown and demise. Often these events have nothing to do with the interior vitality of the group. For example, .when pestilence decimated the Western world in the fourteenth century, the mendicant orders were espe-cially ravaged when many members generously ministered to the sick and dying; some orders lost half their membership.6 Time also takes its toll. The life and death of individual com-munities frequently have nothing to do with the spiritual vitality of the members. Often, in fact,'it appears that in periods of decline the membership display many virtues and signs of dedication. Their corporate life has simply come to an end. As death crowns their collective life, other dedicated people often rise up to meet the new challenges confronting the church. Contemporary Influences on Western Religious Life Cultural Factors. The church does not exist in a cultural vacuum, but in the world as it is. We are, at present, living through a period of exceptionally rapid and revolutionary cultural change in an increasingly technological society. Our Western culture has had an immense influence on the attitudes of our people toward freedom, authority, obedience, sexuality, intimacy, and affectiv-ity. Periods of rapid social change promote personal and institu-tional instability and make it extremely difficult for people, especially the young and inexperienced, to make any permanent and unconditional commitment as expected in marriage, the priesthood, or religious life. The high incidence of divorce and remarriage and the many departures from the clergy and reli-gious life coupled with a corresponding drop in vocations dur-ing the last two and a half decades manifest this unfortunate social fact. The postconciliar years also chanced to coincide with "a kind of cultural revolution which led to a break with tradition, a crisis of authority, and indifference toward questions of faith, great 69¢ Review for Religious uncertainty about moral values, and a crisis in the realm of ethics.''7 The whole world seemed caught up in a series of extraor-dinary social and cultural changes. These enormous cultural shifts and their concomitant crisis of meaning forced even the religious who did not leave their communities during these years to change their lives in such a radical way that their communities are now different from the ones they originally entered decades ago.8 The American cultural values of personalism and personal fulfillment, freedom and self-determination, pluralism, democratic self-crit-icism, and egalitarianism and an emphasis on productivity and success have frequently clashed with an older and more rigid reli-gious life.9 In the period before Vatican II, religious life became part of the Catholic ethos and was carried along by its own cogency. It was largely insulated from the broader currents of American cul-ture. This situation, however, could not continue--certainly not for many members who left it after the reforms called for by the council began to take effect,j° Moreover, Catholics are no longer social outsiders in the U.S. culture; they have joined the nation's insiders.II Because of its outsider mentality, the Catholic Church had built its own vast school system, its own hospitals, newspapers, and fraternal and professional societies parallel with everything that was found among the WASP insiders. Large numbers of Catholic men and women joined religious life. It was a natural way for many to obtain an education and take their place in the Catholic society of that time. Now that Catholics are social insid-ers, they are no longer attracted to serve only in church institu-tions, for many options are available to them in the larger society and in the church.12 Also, the present-day phenomenon of the prolongation of adolescence into the early twenties and the consequent delayed adulthood of many young people in our culture is a sociological fact.13 Large numbers of young adults remain dependent upon others and do not assume full responsibility for themselves until, perhaps, they are forced by circumstances to do so later in life. This has had a direct effect upon the vocational and formational problems facing religious communities. The perceptions of young people concerning religious life today are quite different from those of their elders.14 The younger the person, the less he or she perceives religious life as dynamic and effective, and the less attractive it is to him or her. Moreover, Septentber-October 1992 695 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction because the positive perception women religious have of them-selves is not shared in the same degree by those outside religious life, it does not bode well for the replacement of present mem-bership. 15 Most significantly, because of the changed perceptions regarding the value of a celibate lifestyle on the part of so many people in our culture, the continuance of a celibate religious life, as we know it, is highly problematic with regard to the availabil-ity of potential candidates. There are very few people open to considering such a lifestyle, in the opinion of professional observers.16 Therefore, to state that religious life is countercultural in our present society is to assert an all-too-obvious fact. Theological and Ecclesial Factors. Pope John Paul II expressed his own grave concern about the drop in religious vocations when he sent a letter to the bishops of the United States on 3 April 1983. A pontifical commission was established to investigate the matter--dubbed the Quinn Commission because Archbishop John R. Quinn, of San Francisco, was appointed the pontifical dele-gate. 17 This commission made its lengthy report to the pontiff in October 1986 and a shorter one to the U.S. bishops in November 1986.18 The report did affirm many positive developments sucla as the rediscovery of the charisms of many institutes, the deepening of authentic spirituality, a new appreciation of apostolic religious life, a new awareness of the uniqueness of each individual reli-gious, the promotion of a greater participation in the decision-making processes of the institute, a new appreciation of the universality of the church's mission, a growing awareness of the feminine, the development of new constitutions, and new signs of hope through older and more mature vocations.19 It did note, however, that the universal call to holiness of all members of the church made at Vatican II in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (§§ 39-42) affected religious and those who were contemplating entering religious life. This affir-mation of a common vocation to live a full Christian life was inserted in the conciliar document before its treatment of reli-gious life. It effectively undercut the popular misconception that the call to holiness lay primarily in religious life and in the priest-hood, or that one needed to enter them to pursue holiness seri-ously. A clear call to holiness was being made to (and heard by) 696 Review for Religious those in the married and the single life and not just to those liv-ing the celibacy of the religious life and the priesthood. Second, religious women and men took to their hearts the council documents' emphasis on social justice, which expanded upon the social teachings of the Gospel and the popes. This emphasis was reinforced by the personal experience of religious when they encountered social evil and injustice in their efforts to live and preach the Gospel. This experience, however, seemed to some to place apostolic religious in a theological bind between two apparently contrary church expectations: that they live "apart from the world" while they live and minister with an "option for the poor" in a modern world filled with social injustice. Third, the council'g reaffirmation of the need for the lay peo-ple to serve and to minister--to evangelize--in response to their baptismal call had an effect on religious. They became aware of the apostolic call made to all the faithful. The identity of religious can become clouded in periods of theological and ecclesial change. Their sense of direction and their morale are affected. Some religious now see themselves more as lay people. They react negatively to any restriction they per-ceive

Frank Yannacone, July 22, 2013 ; Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. ; The following is an oral history interview with Frank Yannacone. The interview was conducted on July 22, 2013, by Lorrie Rands. Frank discusses his memories of life on 25th Street. ; 75p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Frank Yannacone Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 22 July 2013 Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Frank Yannacone Interviewed by Lorrie Rands 22 July 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library 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 Business at the Crossroads - Ogden City is a project to collect oral histories related to changes in the Ogden business district since World War II. From the 1870s to World War II, Ogden was a major railroad town, with nine rail systems. With both east-west and north-south rail lines, business and commercial houses flourished as Ogden became a shipping and commerce hub. After World War II, the railroad business declined. Some government agencies and businesses related to the defense industry continued to gravitate to Ogden after the war—including the Internal Revenue Regional Center, the Marquardt Corporation, Boeing Corporation, Volvo-White Truck Corporation, Morton-Thiokol, and several other smaller operations. However, the economy became more service oriented, with small businesses developing that appealed to changing demographics, including the growing Hispanic population. ____________________________________ 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 Special Collections 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: Yannacone, Frank, an oral history by Lorrie Rands, 22 July 2013 , WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, Special Collections, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Frank Yannacone July 22, 2013 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Frank Yannacone. The interview was conducted on July 22, 2013, by Lorrie Rands. Frank discusses his memories of life on 25th Street. LR: Okay it's July 22, 2013. We are in the home of Mr. Frank Yannacone doing an oral history about 25th street and his memories of the buildings and the his memories of the life on that street. So Mr. Yannacone thank you so much for letting us be in your home today. I'm sorry, I'm Lorrie Rands doing the interview, Melissa Johnson is here with me as well as your daughter in law. FY: Marva LR: Marva? FY: Well Yannacone LR: Yannacone, well of course. I told you when I walked in my blonde is showing. MY: That's okay LR: I'm having my day. So Mr. Yannacone I would love for you just to start—go ahead and start at the Broom Hotel and make your way up and down the street. FY: Okay the Broom Hotel. I remember it in the 1950s, it was in kind of a state of disrepair. When it was built it was supposed to have been the best between Denver and San Francisco—of course I heard the same claim for the Hotel Utah when that was built. But anyhow going west was, as I recall, Ross and Jack's Restaurant, which at that time it had a nice art deco façade and a lot of neon. The story was that Ross and Jack had a café and they got into some 1 disagreement so they put a wall down the middle and had Ross's Café and Jack's Café. It went on like that for many years and then they decided maybe that was pretty stupid so they took the wall out and put the nice façade and it was Ross and Jack's Café instead of Ross's Café and Jack's Café. Early history says that Jack Dempsey washed dishes there before he became a big time boxer. I just heard that, I don't know. Next I believe was Morris Men Shop, which was a men's Habersasher, but he was also a clearing house for Basque sheep herders. They'd come in from Elko, check—if they needed a job or looking for someone or mail drop, he was the clearing house for the Basques. Next I think that little bar on Kiesel and across the street where the Federal Building is now, on Kiesel, there was a little café, little diner. Next was Hemingway and Moser had a cigar factory there at least for a while. I can remember standing in the street watching them roll cigars and their brand had something to do with a blue whale or a blue point or something nautical. Next was Ogden Blue, a new business, just a little hole in the wall and now what, 60 years later they're still around and thriving I guess. There are a lot of assorted shops, restaurants, bars, I don't remember the rest of the block, but I remember a Hotel which was on Grant, still there. Next door was the Friendly Tavern, and Saturday nights my wife and I would go to hear the Salvation Army band play about 7:00 every Saturday night. Had a little brass band, I don't know 5/6 members and Sally's would go hit all the bars with their tambourines, collecting change. Starting in that block you had a lot of little restaurants and bars, a lot of Japanese. The whore houses were upstairs still 2 operating. I guess they operated until I don't know, close to 1960 and they— when they closed them up of course all that upstairs room turned into housing in the door to the upstairs started appearing little notices that upstairs was a private dwelling, no trespassing and as I recall there was a shooting down there. Some drunk insisted that it was a whore house and wouldn't take no for an answer and I think he got gunned down, that's my memory. I can't say for certainty, but for some reason it's in my mind. There was a little Japanese restaurant, little ma and pa place. Old wooden booths, hole in the wall, dark—somebody took us there and it had the best damn shrimp, even better than the Utah Noodle, they were great. All that block was mixed housing, bars, stores, shops, and whore houses. Down on the Lincoln end about the 3rd place from the corner there was a grocery store and a hotel upstairs. The name Howard comes into mind and as I mentioned last week I never talked to the guy, but I bought a Medal D'oro which is an Italian espresso coffee. He had it; he also had Luzianne coffee which was a chicory Cajun coffee and Sorgaum syrup. The only thing I can figure, I never asked, but the only thing that I can figure is the black population, a lot of them working on the railroad and they were on Wall Avenue. LR: Was the black population at this time allowed to come into the store or was it after? FY: Now that store, 25th street was different see, kind of. LR: I know the North side was for the whites and the south side was for the Negro population. 3 FY: No, no, no, no, no. The citizens, the residents lived on Wall, close to the railroad. Then they started moving up to Lincoln, but they were segregated. That was our ghetto misnomer of course cause I don't know where that started. A ghetto was a walled area in Europe and old Europe. Somehow or other now—we used to call them slums or something. Now they're ghettos, I don't know. Anyhow, there were a lot of Winos I mean it was kind of like skid row, 25th street. After they closed the whore houses it really went downhill. It was a pretty reasonable place, you never went out on a Saturday night without—you went to the Star Noodle or the China Temple, that ended your evening. It was quite civilized. They had—I can't remember the hotel on the corner it's gone now on the northeast corner of Wall and 25th street. MJ: Was it the Healy? FY: Might have been. I remember when they tore it down, nobody then wanted to put in sprinklers or fix it or something and they tore it down. Next door was the China Temple and next door was the Depot Drug and they had a sign out, "prescription filled." It was a regular drug store and a lot of bars. There was a time, it was before my time when you could do anything on 25th street. You could do banking, you could transact business, you could eat, buy clothing and they had hotels of course because the railroad was right there. There were—I saw it in the paper just recently, the Kokomo Club doing some repairs and they found some old artifacts. Kokomo Club was going strong when I came to Ogden, and there's a bar probably been running for geez anyhow 70/75 years, maybe longer and still going. 4 MJ: Yeah we are going to be interviewing the owners of it. FY: There was another one called I think Pagano's. Well anyhow we'll go across the street. That corner building is still there. It was a stone building and next to it were some small shops including a souvenir shop, had a big sign up, one cent postcards. You probably can remember that. That sign was there when postcards were a nickel or more. MJ: Now is this off of Wall down on that end? FY: We're coming back from Wall now. We're now on that big stone building, I don't know I don't remember what it was, could've been a bank when it was built, but it's still there. Then coming up, there were frame buildings, shops, big front windows painted red as I recall many of them, especially that one with the one cent postcards. You've got a picture somewhere I'm sure of it. MJ: That block right there, just off of Wall, we have very few pictures of. I think that first building is the Murphy Block and we've been talking to the family that owned that building, trying to get photos. FY: Well there's a picture in what did I tell ya? UtahHikes.com. Old Ogden, there's a picture from the terminal and it was taken after the hotel was torn down. But the building on the other side is still there and I imagine if you look close with a glass you can see that sign out there with the one cent. Then you came to the what did I say the name was? That hotel? LR: The Broom? No. FY: Where is that book? 5 MJ: Oh the Royal Hotel? FY: Royal! That was Weeklys'. That was where the black train people stayed. That was all segregated you know, until 64. It was the Royal Hotel and downstairs was the bar, the Porter's and Waiter's Club, which was a nightclub for all the blacks and stories about big bands coming and that's where Annabelle married Weekly. Then after he died she opened Annabelle's, which was a fried chicken place. I wasn't into fried chicken, my wife was, but I could eat her chicken and I told you the story why I could eat her chicken. She said it was cooked by Mexicans in lard, and I checked, all her cooks were Mexican and they had big, cast iron skillets and Dutch ovens and you could smell the lard if you got close to the pass out window. Then last I heard about her, she took a degree in sociology and was working for the state. Now there's a guy around town and he comes here occasionally, he's 93 years old and he's a musician and his name is Joe… MJ: Joe McQueen? FY: Eastman? No Joe, MJ: Joe McQueen? FY: McQueen. MJ: The saxophone player. FY: Yeah, he used to play there. I understand he still—he's 93 years old and he still comes up here and takes people shopping and runs errands and stuff. I never had the chance to meet him yet, but I understand he and Annabelle were coming 6 back from Wendover and he was driving, had a wreck somewhere west of Tooele and she got killed. MJ: Yeah that was— FY: Can't be too many years ago. MJ: Four years ago? Five? LR: I thought it was a while ago. MJ: No it wasn't all that long ago. MY: Yeah, I remember something about that. FY: It was fairly recent, fairly recent. MJ: It was shortly after the document that Isaac Goeckeritz did. He filmed both Joe McQueen and Annabelle and it was about a year or so after that. FY: Now, story is she was the highest price call girl in Ogden. MJ: Oh really? FY: That was the story, she was a looker. When she was young, I mean she was a looker. Now we're talking about nice—a date, civility of 25th street. We had the whore houses all the doctors were in the First Security Bank building, maybe a few across at the Eccles building, but once a month those girls would go for their physical. I knew someone who worked at one of the dress shops and there were several of them in that block from 25th to 24th. There was Clifton's, they're still around. There was Hughes, I think Mode O' Day or something. Anyhow, the girls liked when the, I mean the clerks liked when the girls went for their physicals 7 because they shopped on the way home and spent money. These sales clerks worked on a base plus commission so they were happy to see them. The ladies they walked down the street you know it was civilized; you could go down and not worry about getting shot up or something. After they closed up these places then it got tough. That's when it became skid row. There were winos and drunks, it was tough. That's what happened to that Howard Hotel or grocery store or whatever it was. It was a yellow brick building. Some wino got hallucinations one night and he was cold and lit a fire under the sink and burned the whole damn place down. Yeah there were panhandlers, it was tough. The only time you went there, you went to the China Temple or the Star Noodle. MY: That was it. FY: Okay then we get up on that corner. There was a stack yard. A stack yard's an electrical place where they got transformers and I think that's still there, I'm not sure. MJ: I'm not sure either. FY: On Lincoln, Lincoln and Wall, or Lincoln and 25th. LR: I thought that was the building, wasn't that where Rose Davies building was? FY: No that's on the other side. We're still between Wall and Lincoln. LR: Hmm I thought we were on Lincoln now. MJ: So right on the corner there of Lincoln? 8 FY: There was I think a stack yard. Maybe on the wrong block, but it's a stack yard. I call it a stack yard, it's a place where the power company has transformers and wires coming in and going out. A substation I guess they call them. LR: There's one I seem to recall when we were at that Karen's Café. There was something behind it that reminded me of a substation so maybe that's it. FY: Well see I haven't been down that part of town—I've been here a year and haven't been down there. I figure it's not interesting anymore. LR: It actually is, it might be worth your while to go down and look at it again. FY: Well I hear they got a lot of overpriced restaurants. MJ: Yeah there's a few of those. FY: A lot of glitz and stuff like that and I don't walk well. It's of no historical interest to me anymore. Okay let's cross the street and go to El Boracho. MY: My class wanted to have our picture taken in front of it, but the nuns at St. Joseph's High School didn't think that would be good. LR: I can't imagine why. FY: Now across the street where the El Boracho is now I understand there was a restaurant called Patricia's or something or Poncho's, Mexican, Mexican place. My sister was over visiting from Cheyenne and she was going to take the bus back. I don't remember, hell I think that was the only—by then that was the only way to go back. I think the trains had quit running. Anyhow she wanted some authentic Mexican food and we took her in there. The food was delicious and I 9 don't think she enjoyed a bite because she was worried about if it was safe to be in there. MY: I could see Betty doing that. FY: Anyhow, the Rose Rooms were on top of El Boracho and I worked with a young fellow at the packing house. There was a garage across Ogden Avenue from the Hotel Ben Lomond and it was a parking garage, typical downtown parking garage that they had in those days. Hotel guests parked their cars there and business people, dropped their cars off for oil changes, there was no 15 minute Jiffy Lube back then. Anyhow he had a part time job while he was in high school and Rose had a big four door Sedan, I can't remember. He described, would tell us about it and she'd call—she'd want her car to go for a drive. He would have to deliver it, he was the gopher. He'd park the car and then he'd go upstairs and have to go back in the kitchen to give her the keys and usually he said some of the girls were in there having coffee and talking. It was afternoon, slow time of day I guess and he can remember hustling them. He could also remember they'd laugh at him you know, just a kid. He kept talking about it when he was older and I guess hey that was an experience. I worked with another guy whose aunt and uncle owned the Montana Hotel, next door which was a three story building. He spent a summer or so with them one time. He would talk about in the summer he'd go up on the third floor up on the roof and look over at the second floor roof next door and watch the girls sunbathing. Hey that's pretty thrilling stuff for high school kids I tell ya. MY: They didn't have the internet. 10 FY: Then it came up the street there to the Star Noodle. Now the Star Noodle—that fellow I don't remember his name, but I used to know it. He built Dai Enkotai out there on Highway 89, out in South Ogden. Dai Enkotai, Wayside Inn is the translation. When he built that there was no water up there on that part of the bench. 500 bucks would buy you an acre of land—I even had 500 bucks. He would go up there with his pickup loaded with 50 gallon drums and hand water all that planting he did. Last I saw it I was out there geez I don't know, 20/30 years ago had dinner there and everything has mature and I don't know if you've ever been in. It's a Japanese Tea House, you know the nice roof and the shoji doors, shoji doors you know are the wood and parchment, beautiful place. Anyhow he's planted all that stuff, everyone thought he was nuts. Then they built I think a Rockport dam and suddenly there was water, you couldn't buy 500 dollar an acre anymore. The place started booming. Anyhow I understand that sign is somewhere around. MJ: The Star Noodle? Yeah, the last I heard about it the city is holding onto it because they want it preserved and they want it actually put back up on the building as kind of a historic piece. FY: I'll tell you how that works. Up in Rexburg there was a theatre built in 1932 or 3. It was art deco. A big neon sign outside, and the company who owned that decided to abandon it and they built these stadium theatres. Somehow the city caught wind of it, they were dismantling everything, and the city was able to buy it. The stipulation, you can't show movies in there. Anyhow it took 10 or 15 years—we had an enlightened councilman up there. There was a problem with parking on 11 the main street and he says instead of the city spending money trying to restore that, let's tear it down and build a parking lot. Typical American thinking, it's 50 years old, get rid of it. Anyhow between the college, which did a lot of the engineering and design work free and a lot of student help and volunteers, they restored that building and they rebuilt the marquee. All neon and arrows and beautiful things. The only difference now instead of posting letters it's digital. It's on all day and most of the night, well until midnight every day. They post the weather and civic happenings and announcements like that, beautiful. Could've been lost you know? LR: So can you see them doing that with the Star Noodle, with that property? FY: I can see them with the sign yeah and the façade. MJ: I think that's the goal. Right now the building is empty and the owner is—the city has told him that he has to restore it. He can't tear it down, he has to restore it so he's working on that and right now the city is holding onto the sign for safe keeping so it will get restored. FY: See when they built the—in Salt Lake City, I can't remember, what was the shopping mall they built right across from the temple? LR: Crosswords, Crosswords Mall. MJ: Yeah FY: Then they went across the street and rebuilt the ZCMI block. That façade is the original, the old cast iron and they've done that in a lot of places. The inside, god only know what it is, but the outside is still there. Yeah they can do that with the 12 Star Noodle. Then up from that there were some assorted businesses, bars, I can't remember until you hit the Greyhound Terminal and I remember when they built that. I don't know what was there, but I remember when they built that. I think, and I'm not sure there, because reminds me of an art deco building, you know with that curved front. I can't be sure and next door was the big old home, the Elks Lodge. See the bakery, the bakery bought that—now if you're on Lincoln Avenue going south from El Boracho there was a red brick two story apartment building there. Had 6 or 8 apartments in there and I knew a guy, he was a colored fellow, worked with him. Lacey Jones and I can't remember his wife's name, but she was quite a character. Anyhow Lacey lived there and I remember when he bought it, now that's part of the bakery property too. Had to be in the 70s, it was still there, an apartment house. MJ: The Elks Lodge you mean? FY: No behind El Boracho. Then of course you went up 25th street to the Ben Lomond and that corner office used to be a Union Pacific Ticket office, so you didn't have to go to the depot. In those days you had 64 trains a day come through Ogden, you could've gone anywhere. Then the numbnuts guys, typical, what did they do? They went in and tore down all that cast iron canopies except for one. Filled in the subway, now they want to restore it and got no money. It was there! LR: So you're not an Ogden native? FY: No I came here in 1950. 13 LR: You're originally from? FY: Pennsylvania. LR: What brought you to Ogden, your job? FY: Work, yeah. I came out to school, married and then came to work for Swift. I worked there until they closed. There's another—the viaduct, used to walk across the viaduct, it was old and wooden. See you people wouldn't remember it because they rebuilt it before you were probably even alive. MY: It seems like there wasn't the one that's there now that I remember. FY: Well then you remember the old one. MY: I remember the old one. FY: You're older than these gals, yeah. It was iron with framed deco. It was 2 by, I don't know, 2 inch lumber on edge with black top on it. You walked up and then when you got across the yard before you hit the river there was a stairway, and I walked it many times like all other people to go to work. You'd walk down and it'd dump you off right there where there was a ramp that went down and the stairs took you down under the ramp right there to the packing house. West Ogden was Bertagnoli's Motel, Mountain View Motel, I think it was Bertagnoli. Used to be a motel, course we had stock shows and stock yards and Ogden was a booming town. Anyhow I noticed it's now an apartment, Mountain View apartments, but its story was he made his money as a bootlegger and then built the motel. They had the big stock shows, my father-in-law worked for, as a young fellow, he worked for Covey of Covey Bagley and Dayton, sheep people, 14 and the old man he's the one that built Little American over by Granger, I met him. My father-in-law came down from Logan to go to the stock show and we went down there one time and it's in November, cold weather you know. I don't know if you've ever been to a stock show, but they have the pavilion and they give parts of it to different exhibitors and they use straw or hay to kind of fence it off. There's no heat and we went down and that's the year I won a little leather suitcase from Read Brothers, when they were still on 24th street in the leather business. We had had a judging contest and they called me at home, you know you went in and gave your name and phone number. They called says you won the prize for the judging and I had that suitcase for years. Then somebody spilled something in it and I gave it to the DI. I wish I hadn't cause it had their plate on it you know. Anyhow we're walking down through there and you can see they all have big banners these places and you could see Covey Bagley and Dayton Herefords. We're walking down the aisle and my father-in-law says, "My god there's Anson," or Anselm, Ansom, A-N- I think S-C-L-M, or A-N-S-C-M, anyhow that was his name, Covey. Here's this old guy in a black overcoat and gray hair sitting on a bale of hay and we walked up to him and he got up and he says, "By god Tommy how the hell are you?" It had to have been WWI when he quit so it had to be like 40 or 50 years and he still remembered him. I thought that was just great. There's a guy see I wished I had recorded, there were real tape recorders when he was living. After his wife died he moved in with his son and he would tell stories about herding sheep out of Cokeville, Wyoming. There were so many 15 sheep and he said there were so many sage hens and in the spring when they started moving the sheep the ground would be yellow from sage hen eggs that the sheep trampled. Now you know they're endangered. MY: I've never heard of a sage hen. FY: Sage hen is a quail, some kind of a quail. There's a half a dozen kind of them. MY: They're cute FY: Anyhow you went up 25th street and I don't remember what was there before they built the Ramada Inn, but the Ramada Inn. God that had to be around 1970. MY: Yeah I'm trying to think what was there and I can't remember either. The church, I'd go to the church there FY: Then across the street was a church and they sold it and it was the American Legion Hall for many years. I don't know what it is now. MY: It used to be Kamikaze's. MJ: Yeah, it still is. FY: Oh, a club? MY: It's a bar. MJ: Yeah. MY: Then a Presbyterian church. FY: Then across the street you had Larkin's Mortuary and wasn't that the street where they had the White, the dance hall? 16 MY: That was on 25th and Adams. LR: White City. FY: White City, yeah. MY: Cool place, I remember. FY: Hell that was a big dance hall. It had a roof like the Salt Lake Tabernacle. Big dance hall and they tore that down. You had the Berthana and the White City LR: They were happening spots back in the day. MY: We used to roller-skate at the Berthana up into the 70s. LR: They were happening spots back in the day. They were the place to go. FY: They were dance halls. The Berthana then became a roller rink, but that White City was a dance hall. Yeah it had live music and bands and everybody danced and then you came down the hill. First was Jimmie's Floral, later years you had a little restaurant there called the Canton Low, next to it was a Beauty Shop Supply and next was—Kathy Faunce had a dress top shop, what the hell did she call that? Some fancy name, and then on the corner was Farr's Jewelry. The Canton on the base, on the first floor of the old Masonic Temple on, across from the courthouse. On the main floor was a Chinese restaurant called the Canton. The guy that owned that, and I think Rose who owned half of the Canton Low a little later, she was maybe his wife or his partner. Anyhow it was a big Chinese restaurant and he was going home one night and on the corner there of Adams and 25th there was a wreck, he got hit or whatever. No seatbelts in those days, he ran his car into the curb in front of St. Joe's church, got thrown 17 out, hit his head on the curb and got killed. That was the end of the Canton Café, now I don't recall the sequence of when the Canton closed and the other little place opened, but you had the Ben Lomond Hotel and Royal Shoe Store was next door. Guy sold Red Wings. I bought a pair, 5 bucks. LR: A pair of Red Wings for 5 bucks. FY: 6 inch shoes made in the USA of course, and a guy named Saccamano was his name. Oh and then you had the Orpheum, the Orpheum theater. You know how these theatres had long entries and businesses. Dokas's Greek Restaurant, it was just a lunch counter. It wasn't fancy, but it was Dokas's restaurant and candy store, hand dipped chocolates. You could get a blue plate lunch in there for like 45 cents or something. Then they moved down on Grant, somewhere between I think 24th and 23rd and they still had the candy. They were a wholesaler for tobacco and cigarettes and sundress. God that was a heyday. LR: You mentioned last time about the Bamberger that ran up 25th street. FY: It's in that book, the Bamberger was the interurban. When I grew up they were called Interurban Railroads. They were trolley cars and they went 60/70 miles an hour and I mean they were electric trains, but they were actually high powered trolley cars. You had them between cities and the Bamberger, okay let's go back. Bamberger was the first—he was a Jewish business man. He was a governor I think the only Jewish governor in the state of Utah. He had this railroad between Ogden and Salt Lake, well he started it. He started Lagoon cause he got to Lagoon and they couldn't go further so he started Lagoon and he 18 made some money and then he was able to finish down into Salt Lake. Their terminal, they came in from Logan. I think that was the U & I Railroad. Those railroads would go right down the main street and you could've gone from Franklin to Ogden to Salt Lake, I don't recall past that. They came in on Lincoln, had railroad tracks on Lincoln cause Becker's Brewery was on Lincoln about 21st street. The old Becker Mansion was across on the east side of Lincoln and beautiful old building with columns, sure you got pictures. I was disappointed after coming back after 25 years. Utah still has that 3.2 law. Becker was making 3.2 beer, but he had a place up in Evanston called the Uintah Club beer where he made full strength beer. Every brewery has a bar, bar room. I don't remember what year it was, but they put radios in the switch engines. Now Ogden was big you know, big yards and lots of traffic. Lots of switch engines and they put in radios and they just almost had a riot with the railroad employees because at any given time just about you could find a switch engine parked by the brewery. They'd take turns going up there to have a cool beer, free on the house of course. Then they'd put radios and that kind of put the kibosh, cause they couldn't hide out anymore. The Bamberger came in, you could—see one story leads to another. My wife during the war lived in Logan and her mother played the piano. Rachel could play the piano from 9 years old she was playing in dance bands, bought her own piano. Well in Brigham City at Bushnell Hospital they used to take—my wife and her mother would take the train, the Bamberger over the mountain to Brigham City. She'd entertain, my wife would sing and they'd entertain these guys who 19 were all shot up and god only knows. Anyhow you could take the train all the way to Salt Lake and when it came to Ogden the depot was behind the old post office, 24th street. You'd go north, Pete Vlahos bought that for his office, but then next there was a knitting mill there. Was it Ogden Knitting Mill? MY: Oh yeah. FY: Then the city bought that, the city school district bought that a part of that building or there's a space there. That was the terminal for the Bamberger. They'd come down Lincoln and swing in and unload and then start out. You had a Y right there on Lincoln just north of 24th street. They'd come in then back out and go to Salt Lake. They stayed on Lincoln until St. Joe's School was what? 28th? 29th? MY: Between 27th and 28th on Lincoln. FY: Now did the trolley run past St. Joes? MY: I'm trying to think if there were tracks down that way and I don't think there were. FY: Anyway somewhere down there they cut across, the cut across the Weber River where you take the 31st freeway. Somewhere in that freeway now is where they used to cross the thing and go down and ended up in Hill field. See most of that right away is under I-15, but that interchange on 31st by the freeway coming down from the airport, that was city dump. On the west side of the river was the city dump. MY: Cause there wasn't anything else out there. FY: No, nothing. Oh just sand hills and that was the city dump. 20 LR: So do you recall when the Bamberger stopped running? I wonder if that affected, if that was as big of an impact as when the trains stopped coming in. FY: Well no because see back, during WWII there was about 130 million people in this country. Now you got 330 million, not everybody had a telephone, not everybody had a car. Gas was 15 cents and a car was 500 bucks during the depression. Who the hell had 500 bucks? By the time the Bamberger quit freeways started, Eisenhower started that in the 50s and in the 60s you had pieces of it between here and Salt Lake. Transportation I don't think, was that big a problem because you had Trailways and you had Greyhound, but more people had cars in the 50s. Hell almost everybody had a car. See that puts a different light on it. When Bamberger started, that was in the depression days, public transportation had trolley cars in Ogden. My father-in-law drove a trolley car in Ogden and the yard was—I can remember when they started building houses in there. 27th or 28th above Adams under the hill there was about a half a block or maybe a little more was kind of flat. That was the yards for the trolley cars. They ran up and down Washington Boulevard and when I came to Ogden they had bus service, but there was a big strike. But they had buses running up and down Washington and I think they had one would go up to Harrison and another one would go to West Ogden. It was pretty rudimentary, but people used the bus. Hell I used the bus and Ogden then was like 40,000 people. You had—Wilson Lane was out in the country, but you had Pete's Café which is still there. You had I think taxi service then, but it was pretty limited. Then the trains quit see—I don't 21 know about 67 or 8—those railroads really went at it with a vengeance. Passenger service cost them money, they couldn't make money on people, service got bad. I'll tell you a little story about my mother. She liked taking the trains and she'd stop in Cheyenne to see my sister and then she'd take the train over to see me and then she had an old childhood chum living in California, Colusa, California. She would call from my house to talk to this lady and set up. They'd pick up my mother in Sacramento and she would ride the bus. She liked the bus cause it took you downtown and she liked the trains cause you went into town and you saw the backyards. I enjoyed the trains too for that reason. Anyhow my sister, I had a niece that died and she was nine. The only way my mother could get to the funeral from Pennsylvania to Cheyenne was fly. She was petrified, but she had to do it. After the funeral she came over and visited for a while and she said—now this was, god this had to be in early 60s I guess. Anyhow she said she was on the, at the airport, and she said people would take her by the arm and call her by name and say, "Now you come on, you stand here and if we can get you on this flight," she was flying stand by. She said, "Now you stand here and if there's a place on this plane you know we'll get you on there and if not we'll see about the next flight." She said everybody was so nice, they were friendly. She said every time somebody did that at the airport I thought about the conductors on the trains. "Are we on time," and they'd snarl at ya. 22 "When's the dining car open," and they'd snarl at ya. She started flying after that. She gave up on the railroad. I took a train in 1964 where I had to go through four cars to find a car where I could plug in an electric razor they were that decrepit. Plugged them in and nothing happened. LR: So it's not surprising that they just, it became— FY: I mean they were deliberately doing that. See of course what happened, coincidental with all that was the US Post Office started air mailing mail instead of using the railway mail cars. LR: That was one of the huge reasons why they stopped. FY: Well they had revenue see and the passengers they would put up with, but when the post office cut them out they figured hell these people are costing us money and they went after them. That mail was all sorted by hand and they ran regular runs. I left a message for Charles Trentelman, I didn't leave it in his voicemail because I got somebody at a gift shop. Got a voicemail at the gift shop at the depot and I said, "Tell Trentelman that there's a fellow working at the Ogden post office who started out as a railway mail clerk." So there's still some guy, and when I heard the guy said he's old he must be at least 70. Well yeah he would be. So the Bamberger I don't know when they quit, but they were probably losing money and glad they quit. LR: Something else you mentioned last time that I found fascinating was talking about drinking coffee with Marshall White. I can't remember the whole story anymore, but you talked about drinking coffee with Marshall White. 23 FY: Yeah he came to my house one day and we were visiting about something or other, I don't recall, but we had coffee. You know he was— LR: A decent fellow? FY: See we talked about, I told you about that story about being in the China Temple. LR: You said it was your one regret. FY: See in the context of time—at the time there was two of us. We had an early thing going at the packing house and this guy came in from Portland and I picked him up at the Ben Lomond and said, "Let's stop and have some breakfast." The only place open at 4:00 in the morning was the China Temple. We went in there and sat down and while we were waiting for our order these three colored fellows came in and sat down at the end of the counter, way down by the kitchen. The guy comes out and tells them we can't' serve you and they left. I didn't pay any attention and I told Lorrie my regret was that I didn't walk out, but at the time didn't think anything of it. It didn't take me, only like a couple hours or next day or something I got thinking, "Geez there I sit—some Chinese guy telling a black guy he can't serve him. MY: But it was the time. FY: You heard me talk about Lacey Jones you know, when your boy died who was there? Lacey MY: I have pictures of him holding Tommy. He came to—Tommy was probably a month old and I have— FY: What was her name? 24 MY: I know, ever since you said his name, Lacy and anyway, I have pictures of him in my living room holding my baby. Beautiful pictures. LR: When was this? MY: Oh, 1982. FY: My kids were raised—my wife, I'll tell you she had an occasion, I'm not going to go into much detail, but she had an occasion to be in a position where she was catering to the public. Couple of colored folks came in and sat down and my wife was—hey I can tell you she can attest to this—we're walking down Washington Boulevard and we're standing in front of Froerer Place on 26th for real estate, 26th and? MY: Washington. FY: Washington. I said, "Wait a minute I got to go in and talk to Fred about something," and when I come out she's visiting with some woman on the sidewalk. The lady left and I said, "Who was that?" She says, "I don't know." I could hear so I asked, "Well what was she telling you about her son-in-law or something?" She says, "I don't know, she just came up and started talking." Anyhow wife's very pleasant to these people and somebody said you're a nigger lover. She got the guy by the shoulder and threw him out. MY: I was surprised that's all she did. 25 FY: So see my kids were raised, we had no animus. That's why it bothered me later when I—hey that's, god that's 60 years ago nearly. LR: And it still bothers you? FY: And it bothers me. MY: I can see that. FY: See and then when I heard about Marshall White. They're chasing some kid, got out of reform school and they chased him into this house and the kid comes up out of the basement with a gun and shoots the guy right at the top of the stairs. MY: Well remember when the hi-fi shop thing all happened and you made Robert go pick Lacey up. LR: Now was that on 25th street? FY: No that was on? MY: About 23rd and Washington, but it was right next to Karamel Korn. My husband was working with his dad and this Lacey Jones we've been talking about, he worked there and because of the hi-fi shop thing and the blacks and stuff. Frank was afraid for Lacey because you know some people just— FY: What was her name? Camilia? Camilla? MY: I'm trying to think of Robert saying it. Lacey and. FY: She was quite the character. MY: They were great people. 26 FY: Well you know life, I look at it differently than when I was her age. When I was 18, a boy. MY: Well and there again I think it's the time. My dad grew up in the South. I was raised with a little different perspective, but I never understood why my dad was prejudice. I didn't get it. I'm like why? I don't get it. I still don't understand it, why? Just because somebody has different colored skin. I see it with my grandchildren. In fact my little grandson he'll be telling me about a friend or something and he'll say he's brown, but you know there's no ethnic type, he's black, he's Mexican, he's this. So is your mother when she's out in the sun. FY: We lived in Hawaii for a couple of years and favorite story, oh that picture there. I found your husband's face in there. MY: Oh did you find him? Cause he's the only little haole. FY: As a matter of fact we had Japanese neighbors. See this country is becoming like Hawaii, there's no majority. See even back when we were there whites were not a majority. Had some neighbor kids, my kids were like 7 or 8, 6 or 7, somewhere around there. They're watching a war movie on television and my wife told me this story. I don't remember what the movie was, but Robert can tell you. He's probably seen it a million times. Anyhow it was a Japanese soldier sneaking up on this American GI and one of the little Japanese neighbor boy says watch out for that Jap! That's become a family story because that's the way it was. The kids, my kids were raised and her kids I'm sure raised that's—but back 60 years ago it was different. 27 Now I went to school with black kids, back then we called them Negros or colored. I can remember I spent a summer—I was in New York 1945—I was in Time Square on VJ Day. I was in that mass of about a million people, never forget it. I used to take a train 2:00 in the morning through Harlem. I'd be the only white guy, but there was nobody on the train, only half a dozen people on the whole damn three car train. Going through Harlem never had any fears. I Went to school with folks from hell, all over. Now coming from the South I worked with a guy in Idaho, turned out good friends, he's dead now. Jimmy Mitchell was born in Nashville and I didn't find that out until several years after I knew him. I never heard the N word more than I did in Rexburg. In the first month I heard probably more than in my whole life before that. I told him I don't like it and he was good enough that he watched his tongue when he was around me and hopefully he improved on it with other people. He was born in Nashville, he came to Idaho as a boy, but his dad, for like all the time Jimmy was growing up until he got married, every summer they'd go back to Nashville. Second nature with him, like your dad. MY: It has to do with where you grow up. My mother grew up in Colorado. Her and her friend were the only white girls in their class, most of them were Mexican. So my mom was more open to you know, culture. FY: Pass that picture over LR: So moving on to a little more happy things, I was wondering if you had any more stories about 25th street you'd like to share? Cause I mean you've done a good job and you've been talking for almost two hours. 28 FY: I have? LR: I don't know if you realize that. FY: No, but I get wound up. See we've digressed. LR: And that's okay. So I was just wondering if you had any other stories or memories of 25th street you'd like to share? FY: Well I told you about my wife and the egg foo yung. LR: When she was pregnant? FY: Now those were the days when they made real egg foo yung, not this crap they're making now. It's like some kind of a mush. MY: I don't know what it is FY: Anyway I was telling Lorrie, many a morning at 1 or 2:00, the only place open, go to the China Temple. I'd take a sauce pan cause you didn't have takeout boxes like you do now. I'd go get egg foo yung. Well my kid was like I don't know a year old, just starting to talk, I don't know how old they are when they start. Anyhow I had some business at the Greyhound Depot where they had the bus. The buses used to have express and I had some business there and I parked and it was diagonal parking. She was there in the front seat with the kid and I said, "I'll be right out." When I come out she's laughing. Now she could laugh, she turned me the wrong way on a one way street once and a cop pulled me over MY: All she could do was laugh. 29 FY: All she could do. All I could say, "She told me to turn," that's another family story. She knows what's coming. Well anyhow I come out and she's laughing and I said, "What happened?" She said, "See that Chinese fellow going by?" "The Chinese guy?" "Yeah. Well when he went by he said dada." Anyhow now you've heard the story of my life maybe. I don't know about 25th street, spent many a night down there after partying I can tell you that. Sober up at the China Temple. LR: That seemed to be the, well it was always open so that was the spot. FY: Well I can tell you about 24th street. MJ: What was on 24th street? FY: Well I'll tell you about getting from 25th to 24th. On Lincoln, 25th and Lincoln, there's a hotel, used to be a stop on the Bamberger. They had a sign up, but in there Harry the Tailor had a tailor shop in one of those little stores. Harry was from Armenia or some Middle Eastern country and he was a hell of a good, old bachelor. He had a barber shop, I mean a tailor shop. Anyhow we'd go up to Grant and you went past the hotel and in the middle of the block was Johnny Marsh's, the bug man, he was a pest control guy. John Marsh, and he had a sign, bughouse with a caterpillar on the top. I wonder what ever happened to that sign. Wonder if someone has it in their basement or out in a barn? 30 Then there seems to me like there was a big green building, concrete or masonry or something. Was like a wholesale, it was a pale green. Anyhow there was also a place in there, we all thought it was the Chinese lottery. It was a store front and they had like teller windows in there. It was Chinese and I don't know, might have been some kind of a thrift club or business. We all thought it was a Chinese lottery where you went in, but every time I went by the door was open, but I never saw anyone in there. That was the story that it was a Chinese lottery. Over on 24th street and there's an empty lot now next to the Berthana, used to be the Dinner Horn, was a grocery store. Then going west there was a gas station and when that folded it turned into a locksmith and Lester Pelton learned his business. MY: Wasn't it Vicks? FY: Was it Vicks? MY: I think it was Vicks. FY: It was a—they had a locksmith in there and this kid we know learned his trade in there. Next was the Grant Hotel and Grant Tap Room. Japanese, lot of Japanese in there. Then next was Minnie, don't know her last name, she was a barber. She came and interned during the war and she was a Buddhist. She played a mean poker game and she made a mean stir fry. She used to invite us out to the Buddhist festival every year. Next was Sakarada Fish Market. Then there was HJ Bonnie, turkey broker, and he raised turkeys. Now in those days where Wal-Mart is on 21st, 20th, there was a turkey processor there. Bonnie had an interest in that or maybe it was his. Then they turned it into a cold storage and then tore it down 31 for Wal-Mart. Then there was Richard's Sheet Metal—had apartments. We had one and the reason we had one well we had a little dog, little Corgi. Familiar with a Corgi? LR: No. FY: Queen Elizabeth raises Corgies, little. That nice place on 24th and Monroe that's supposed to be a Frank Lloyd Wright house, that was an apartment house. They wouldn't rent us an apartment cause we had a little dog. We lived at Richard's until we could find a place and parked in the back 50 bucks a month, everything but lights. Hot water, heat. LR: Wow, all for 50 bucks a month. FY: Then across the street the motel is still there. Now they call it the Westward Ho or something. Down on the corner where the old shaver mart is, Bob Hinds, H-I-N- D-S had a Conoco Station. Next to Richard's there was a lumber yard, don't remember the name, but I think it began with a B. MY: Burton, was it Burton's? FY: Could be. MY: Burton had a lumber place. FY: I can't remember what was next down to the corner. But Crittenden Paint still there, that building's still there. That restaurant I guess that's been a restaurant for a million years. Then you came up 24th street you had the Dinner Horn, you had the Berthana, there was a bar in there. MY: The Lighthouse Lounge. 32 FY: That was it, The Lighthouse huh? Okay. Good timing for your visit here. Then you hit Kiesel and the Kiesel Building, there were two dentists in there. I knew—I mean there might have been more but there were two dentists and they would cover each other. So I knew both, one was Reuben Clark who was kind of a milk toast type guy. You know milktoast? Well see years ago there was a comic strip called Milquetoast, also at that time was Maggie and Jiggs and the Toonerville Trolley, see that dates me. What you gals got to do is start looking up some of this stuff because Toonerville Trolley had a guy on there, they called it Terrible Temper Mr. Bang and he was always mad. I have a son who we referred to occasionally as "Terrible Temper Mr. Bang," cause he can talk himself into a mad and we'd say, "Terrible Temper Mr. Bang," he has no idea what we are talking about. Anyhow the other guy was something Turner. Anyhow he used to be an engineer and then decided he wanted to be a dentist and as much as Reuben Clark was a milktoast he was the macho. I mean he'd cuss a blue streak if he had to, you know, something went wrong. He told a story once about—he was hunting and he'd go working up this sidehill and he gets to the top, and there's some guy there laying on the ground and looking over at things. He says, "I told him that was a hell of a climb." He says, "Yeah, I noticed you had a little bit of a problem here and there. I had you in my scope all the time." He said, "You had me in your scope?" "Yeah," he said. 33 "Is that gun loaded?" He says, "Yeah," He said, "I beat the crap out of him." That's the kind— LR: Well I can understand that. FY: Reuben Clark to quote my wife, "he wouldn't say it if he had a mouthful." Then across the street was the Finer Foods Café and next to it was the Finer Tap Room. If you went down the café, they were narrow. They went down toward the kitchen, there was a door that took you into the Tap Room. Then at the Eccles Building up on the corner was a Walgreen's. MY: Cause the door you went in on the corner. FY: See Walgreen's. MY: They had a little lunch counter. LR: Is this on Grant then? FY: Well every drug store had a counter. MY: No it'd be on Washington. FY: Washington, under the Eccles Building. There's a hotel there now. Walgreen's always had a corner. They had a place across from that Crossroads Mall. First night in Salt Lake I had a cup of coffee right across the street from the temple. I flew out, stewardess is telling me all about the Salt Lake and the Mormons and they don't drink and they don't smoke. I spent the night in Salt Lake so I'd catch the bus the next day to Logan cause I was going to school up there. I walk 34 around, first thing I stay at that little hotel, it's on South Temple between Main and State and it's still there. Just little cozy, I don't know 8 or 10 rooms, it's probably a fancy apartment house now. Anyhow I walked in, walked around, typical Walgreen's. They sold cigarettes and cigars and pipe tobacco and coffee and they had a lunch counter and people sitting there smoking and drinking coffee. Then I walked around and ran into two cigar stores within a couple of blocks and I'm wondering what is she talking about? Anyhow I had her phone number and I called her. Tried to set up a date. MJ: No luck? FY: No, you know why? I wasn't Mormon. Well I sort of learned how it worked. It took me a while, but anyhow that was my introduction to Utah. It was a DC 3 and one of the two roughest places to fly in the country is Denver to Salt Lake and the other one is from Washington D.C. somewhere over the Appalachians I can't remember. Anyhow D.C. 3 21 passengers, it was full, served us a nice meal and then we hit the turbulence. The stewardess comes by, got plenty of food if you want it. God I could smell this puke. God that was a rough trip. MY: Now what did you start up at? FY: 46. So anyhow let's see we were on 24th street. You had the First Security Bank and across the street was W.T. Grant, pink sandstone, a red sandstone. My father-in-law helped build that and he said they poured concrete with wheelbarrows and they went up wheelbarrow at a time. Then that became ZCMI. 35 LR: There was a ZCMI in Ogden? MY: Right where the Weber place is. FY: They had a walkway over to the mall over Nordstrom's. LR: When was the ZCMI in Ogden? FY: Well I'm looking at that Ogden Hikes thing and the J.C. Penney building was ZCMI and then they, I guess shut down and left. Then came back after W.T. Grant. See 24th, Washington Boulevard between 25th and 24th street you had— MY: L.R. Samuel's. FY: Aurbach's. MY: Well L.R. Samuels to begin with. FY: Yeah, then Aurbach's. MY: Then Freddy Aurbach married the Samuels girl. FY: Then you had there was a men's store next to the— MY: Fred M. Nye? FY: No I'm talking on the west side. There was—I got a suit hanging in the closet I think came from them. Next to the bank, next between the bank and the Egyptian or the other side of the Egyptian, anyhow you had Keeley's Restaurant. MY: Smalley's Jewelry was right by the bank. FY: The men's store was probably on the north side of the bank. Anyhow you had restaurants and on the other side you had Nye's and when they closed I think 36 that's when Buehler Dunn, and Branz opened. You had Blocks in there, Blocks was an Idaho, small Idaho chain. Very upscale and kind of a department store, mostly men. Then when you went over to J.C. Penney you had Payless Drug and you could get in from Kiesel. Then you had in a row you had Newberry's, Woolworth and Grant, no W.T. Grant was across the street. Woolworth, Kresge three 5 and dimes, then there were assorted businesses. MY: Skagg's was downtown. FY: Well that was Payless. Ensign Drug was along in there. Every drug store had a lunch counter. MJ: Oh we are just about, the battery is just about out. FY: You want to plug in? MJ: Yeah. FY: There's a plug in. Marva, MY: Is it in the bedroom? FY: Yeah, one in the bedroom there. MJ: Most of the time I just plug it in automatically, but I thought we'd be okay with the battery cause it was just charged. FY: Then you went down the end of the block was Sear's. They had on the Kiesel Avenue side an auto, 3 bay auto. They changed oil and stuff like that. They moved and that was the end of the downtown. Cross from Sear's you had Firestone, had a big store, I think it's a bank now. 37 MY: It's Zion's Bank. FY: Then across the street was Reliable Furniture. Was it Reliable? MY: There was a Reliable. You know who owned Reliable? Herscowitz, Sam Herscowitz because my mom worked for his wife when he and his brother owned Reliable Furniture. FY: Well it became then Wolfe Sporting Goods and next to the Firestone store that would be on the east side between 23rd and 24th coming south, was Madsen Furniture. That dinet set came from Madsen Furniture when we were living up on Binford. My kids were in high school, that has to be over 40 years and I refuse to buy a new one. My sister has for years said, "Why don't you know it's wearing out." She insisted my mother buy a new coat and she died. She insisted her husband buy a new suit, he says no way Jose. He said, "Looked what happened to your mother," and that's why I won't buy a new dinette, cause the odds—the longer I wait the odds get better, but yeah that was Madsen Furniture. MY: Sav On was down there, Sav On Sporting Goods. FY: Well on 24th now, let's go. MY: But it was between 22nd and 23rd. FY: Let's go down 24th street now from W. T. Grant, cross the street J. C. Penney. Next door was I think Klenke, K-L-E-N-K-E Hardware. MJ: Were they connected to Klenke Floral? FY: I don't know. 38 MY: I have no idea. FY: But this old guy and his daughter ran that store. I think when they wrecked that they probably destroyed it. What a store, they had a ladder on a truck. Bins all the way to the ceiling and if you went in there for like a number 10 flathead screw they—everything came bulk in those days. If you went in and asked for whatever, they could go get it and they knew where it was, they'd move the ladder, climb up, open the drawer. Great. Then there was a Haberdasher open on the corner later. Can't remember his name, but then cross the street was Read Brothers, big place, but with a horse on top. Now I'm going to tell you, I don't know if you know about the horse. Some guy one night climbed up there somehow painted that black horse brown. That horse was black, it was patterned or supposed to have been a replica of a famous Ogden horse called Old Nig. Does that tell you anything? It's a black horse, Old Nig. Then next to that was, there was—later on it became Sunset Sporting Goods, but next to that was Kammeyer's, had the big old wooden gun out front. Remember that? No pictures of that? They had a big rifle made out of wood it was about, god, had to be 6 or 8 feet. Kammeyer's Sporting Goods and then next was the church. Kammeyer's, I think one of those boys became an obstetrician/gynecologist here in Ogden, working. Dr. Kammeyer. Then there was the church, then across the street was the post office. Now it you went south from the Dinner Horn there was the Bamboo Noodle, good place. Then you came to Dokas's, and then there was a building there, old brick building that had tile. 39 Had a garage door and tile, blue and white, but I used to call bathroom tile. It was that little hex and in the middle of that white, Browning. LR: So that's on, I actually know where this building is. That's the one on Grant. MY: So the Federal Building— LR: In between 24th? FY: 24th/23rd. Well it's on the east side of 24th or the east side of Grant and north of 24th. See we started at the Dinner Horn which was on 24th, now wait a minute. MY: Wasn't that Browning next to where the Federal Building is? FY: Yeah MY: The Federal Building's here and then you go north on Grant and Browning's was right there. LR: Well there were two Browning buildings. They kind of faced—their backs were to each other. One was on Kiesel and one was on Grant. So the one you're talking about? FY: Has to be on 24th then, between 24th and 23rd MY: No it was 24th and 25th. FY: It has to be 24th/25th because the church is on 24th going to 23rd. Dokas was in there somewhere and there was— MY: It was Browning and then Dokas. FY: There was a commercial building with a garage door. 40 LR: That's the one on Grant. FY: Yeah and it had, in front of the door, it had an apron. Blue trim, it was oblong and it had blue edging and a white—in the white it said Browning and it was that tile, that little 6 sided tile. LR: You'll be happy to know that they actually restored that building and that's still there, that tile. FY: It is? I have to go down and somehow, but hell you know I can't walk anymore. MY: We'll have to get you a chair. LR: The one on Kiesel it's long gone. FY: Yeah that's where Pete found the Browning workshop and gave it to the Depot. Now I was in Nauvoo and I saw the old original Browning workshop, had a personal tour of that building. They've done great work with it, with Nauvoo. I stopped there, I was on this spot and I had some neighbors who were doing a mission there. I found them, funny I'm living in Rexburg and I pull in to Nauvoo, and that's way before the temple was restored and all that, and I'm looking around and there's a few buildings here and there. I see a couple of people raking leaves in front of this brick building and it turns out to be their headquarters or office or something. I pulled up and I hollered out the window, "Hello there!" The lady comes over I say, "I'm looking for the Cazier, would you know where they are?" She says, "I don't know where they are, but wait a minute," and she walked in and come out with a binder, everybody's schedule. "Well he's down at 41 the blacksmith shop and she's over at the tinkers place." So she directs me and I got down to the blacksmith shop and I walked in on a presentation. Anyway after the presentation they handed out horseshoe nail rings to the kids and I said to Gale, "Geez, can I have one of those? I had one when I was a kid," and I got that somewhere. I looked at it not too long ago here. Anyhow I said, "I used to have one," so he gave it to me and I wore and I stopped on that trip, I stopped in Cheyenne and my brother was there. I was telling him, I said, "Here's what I brought." Bill looks at it, says, "Gee I had one of them when I was a kid." Every kid had one of them cause they had blacksmith and they still had some horses around. Anyhow they just bent a nail around a pipe, but anyhow I have that ring somewhere and it's been 15 years ago since I got that. I visit with Gale and I said, "Where's Yvonne?" He says, "She's over at the tinkers I'll take you," so we go over to the tinkers. She says she's embarrassed standing there with cue cards, 3 by 5 cards. "I just got assigned here yesterday, this is my first day. Up until now I was over at the Browning workshop." She was nervous as all get out. I said, "Well I'll tell you what Yvonne, I'm alone nothing to worry about you know me, be comfortable, make your pitch." She went through it, had to make a few references and she says, "Well that wasn't so hard." Anyhow then she took me over to the Browning place, just 42 the two of us, and they got us in there and out in the garden—a lot of these places they'd planted gardens. Tomato plants, lettuce, eggplant you know and they feed themselves. I mean they had these gardens and they keeps the weeds down and all these missionaries have fresh produce all through the summer. Then they took me—I had a little personal tour, saw a few things that most visitors don't get to see, but doing a bang up job. They have a land office and I didn't understand the land office until I left. I had another neighbor, who was a day behind me and when he came back we got comparing notes. The land office has the original plans of Nauvoo, and if you tell them who you're interested in—My wife's great grandfather, I got a deed or not a deed but a copy of a deed and a location on the town plat of where he lived and he lived about two blocks from Joseph Smith. Now it's right downtown, Nauvoo. A lot of motels and souvenir shops, but the rest of it, they're doing a bang up job. What's not there anymore, right across the street on the corner from the old temple, was the headquarters of the reorganized church. The church finally bought them out a few years ago, but they had a nice modern brick building and they were on one corner. This office I stopped at was just up on the other block on another corner and they've restored the temple. I was able to see where the fount was, they had a well in there and some of those sunstones were still laying around. Anyhow I don't know if we got off subject. LR: It's okay. I hate to be the one to say put the brakes out, but you've worn me out. I was worried about wearing you out and you've done the exact opposite. I haven't had lunch yet. 43 FY: Well I'll tell you what. I've got a pot of lentils and I'll be glad to share them because I hate leftovers. LR: Ok. For not being an Ogden native you sure know a lot about the buildings, why is that? FY: Cause I like history. See I took a course at Weber State one time on Utah history and it was taught by this Hispanic fellow. I don't remember his name now. Anyhow I can tell you about places wherever I've gone see. I can tell you things. I lived in Star Valley for a while. I know where the old Oregon Trail passed through the valley. I can take you there, I'm sure it's still there. I think if they widened the road they went that a way see. I followed Louis and Clark from St. Louis to Fort Clatsop, except where you had to go on a boat. Through Nebraska and that country there, there's not much to see, but from Fort Mandin all over, pretty much all of it. I've been to Lemhi Pass, I got the journals here, I read it and copied the original journals, I've seen them. God they're great big I don't know how many. I have my brother, one brother, he found some old 16 mm movies that we had when we were kids and he gave them to a guy and he was able to salvage about 15 or 20 minutes. Some are home movies, some are old movies that we used to buy. You know we had no TV and I had a crank that you could buy things. Saw Felix the Cat and few things. Got all of that on DVD. Wherever I've gone, I know the history from where I was born. I know see I grew up in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia was 90 miles away. When I moved to California for a couple of years, I'd been on most every mission from San Diego to Sonoma. Some of them weren't much but wrecks when I saw them and now 44 most of them have been restored, but I went to that mission in Carmel. I'm shocked, got a big sign about Father Serra saying mass on the 4th of July, 1776. That was an enlightenment, I knew July 4th Philadelphia, the Liberty Bell you know. Same time the Spanish were out there, they're planting gardens and converting the natives. So I can tell you a lot about California and I can tell you about the Civil War. What I should have been is a historian. Start of Part II, July 23, 2013. FY: I'd like to start. We were on 24th street, we talked about Kammeyer's and the big gun out front, the sign? LR: Yes we did. FY: Smith and Edward's bought Kammeyer's. If you got in touch with Bert Smith I bet you could find that gun. LR: Is he still alive? FY: Oh yeah. 93 years old and he's alive. In fact he gave a presentation on the avenging Angel, what's his name? Porter Rockwell, to a group it was in the paper like I don't know month, six weeks ago. So he's alive and well. He bought Kammeyer's and he owned it when they shut it down. Bet that sign is out there at Smith and Edward's or maybe at his home or somewhere. I'm sure—not Bert he wouldn't throw it away. You know he bought the old Swift building. LR: Where you used to work? 45 FY: 60,000 bucks he paid for that old place and he told me he said, "I feel good. When I feel good about a deal it means I made a good deal." Hell he probably got his 60,000 bucks back just in the salvage on the first month or so. Cause he opened it, he rented different parts, he put holes in the wall and gave access. He rented out the garage and he punched a hole in the wall and the curing cellars became—the last I saw it a guy was selling boats in there. I don't know if he sold them or maintained them or he had a dealership or something. He sold two new boilers. They'd brought in the newest boiler was probably a year old, the other one probably two or three years old. Probably got 60 grand right there. LR: So where was the Swift building? FY: Just across the yards on 24th. Hey there's some great pictures in here and we're going to go through these pictures. FY: Anyhow here's a picture of 25th street [Frank is looking at pictures from Ogden City: It's Government Legacy]. See in the 20s there were trolley cars. LR: But that's not the Bamberger? FY: No that's a trolley car, that's a city system and I read in here what I didn't know. They had six routes. You know I told you my father-in-law used to drive one of them. That's how come my wife was born at the Cobble Cottage in 1927 cause he was down here, He was down here driving. Anyhow they had six routes, 24 miles. I didn't knowhit was that extensive, but there's the Healy Hotel and here's that building that's still here. Anyhow the Royal Hotel used to be the Arcadia. 46 LR: So here's a question for you and maybe you know. I've always thought that Porter's and Waiter's wasn't its own individual building. That it was underneath— FY: It was the downstairs. It was a bar and it was an afterhours club and there was like a shooting or knifing about twice a week in there. Now I never went in the place when it was that, but you know the guy that went up on the roof to look over at the sunbathers, he used to go in there frequently. The upstairs was the hotel and they catered to the black employees from the railroad which were mostly porters and waiters. See the dining cars—all the waiters were black, stewards were white. So when you gave an order in the dining car you wrote it out from the menu and they filled the order then they brought you the bill and you gave them the money and the steward handled all the money. Now those people—Ogden was a junction see between [audio missing]. LR: Hopefully it will be in business now. FY: Okay we were talking about the porters and waiters. Ogden was the—I don't remember what they used to call it. It was the end of the run, see they changed crews and these guys had to have a place to stay. We talked about the situation and there's a picture in here of Read's with the horse up on top. I was told by someone that horse is out on west 12th street in front of some veterinary's place. Anyhow they called the place the porters and waiters club and in fact in those days 25th street—this tells after it got cleaned up it went downhill fast just like I was telling you. Lot of transients moved in and there's a picture in here of the old Shupe Williams candy factory. I'd forgotten about that, it's on 26th and Wall. Big four story, they were a big candy company and they shut down I don't know. 47 They were running when I came and then some transients got in there as usually happens, burned the damn place down. Directly north now we're talking on the west side of Wall Avenue, directly north across 26th street was the old Union Pacific Laundry. Well when the trains quit running they didn't need the laundry anymore. Then next to that was railway express agency. You remember the railway express wagons with the great big wheels? I'm sure they have one or two at the depot. They were baggage carts. They met the trains and they'd off load baggage and freight. They were huge wheels, and you know guys would pull them by hand or push them. Those buildings are gone and then on the other side was the freight station, that's gone too. Now across the street we got the Healy Hotel identified and well we'll go around the corner. There was a place called Ketchum Builder's Supply and a big one story low building. I can remember driving down there for something on a Saturday when the Teton Dam broke cause I listened to it on the radio. I had no idea about where it was or what it was, but geez you know that was 1976. What is that now? Pushing 50 years, 45/40. LR: Yeah 45. FY: So how time flies. That buildings gone. Next to this was Goddard's. Goddard was an industrial supply. The brick building is still there. Next was Scowcroft's on Wall Avenue. LR: heading towards 26th? 48 FY: Heading towards 24th. We're going around the corner from the Healy. It was Ketchum, then Goddard, then Scowcroft. Scowcroft was a big whole sale—dry goods and food wholesaler. I think they've saved that building, I think it's on the national historic register. What I remember about it last time I saw it, they had that you could still see the advertising on the outside. They made overalls, now you've heard of Osh Kosh B'Gosh? Well they had Can't Bust 'em, that was their brand. One of the Scowcroft's if he's still alive, the General Scowcroft used to be an intelligence guy for George, first George Bush. Brent Scowcroft he was born here. He's a Scowcroft from that family and that building I think has been restored. Now it's cross the street from the Transit you know. The railroad, frontrunner, depot the travel. What do they call it? LR: The park and ride FY: You know and they have the buses. Then you come up 24th street and I think Anderson Lumber was in there. See now you're under the viaduct and you're now coming up the south side of 24th street to Wall Avenue. Now we're at Lincoln and we're going backwards up from that lumber company, Richard's, the turkey guy, the fish market, the Grant tap, and then the Dinner Horn. Now go across the street to the church and start going east, that's where you ran into Kammeyer's, next to the church. Then Sunset Sporting Goods was in there but there was something before that I don't recall. Then you ran into Read, leather people. Then you crossed Kiesel and it was a couple of businesses and the hardware store I told you about and J.C. Penney's, which according to this book, used to be ZCMI before 1900. Now cross Washington 49 Boulevard there was the W. T. Grant and you went up the hill to St. Joseph's Church and look at this picture. This I think is 24th street, there's the bend on 24th, freeway is out here and see here's a spur. That's the one that goes up to the elevators. There's packing house, there's the big livestock pavilion and here's the stock yards. LR: So this is where they would do the auctions? FY: Yeah, and that's where they had the stock show. See and here's the viaduct. LR: So this would be Union Station? FY: No the Union Station would be over here. LR: Oh this is 24th okay. FY: It'd be around here, 25th would be up here. That's 24th, that's got to be stairs to the station. LR: Well if the freeway is over here 25th has to be right here. FY: Oh no, the other way, okay you're right. LR: You can actually see where it ends right there. FY: I was going the wrong direction. LR: This is Wall and that's 25th and that looks like the Ben Lomond. FY: And the depot would be over here. I don't know when they viaduct was built but there's an interesting picture in here that has a Grandview Acres. This was war housing. They were two story duplexes, still around I think. They were at about 38th and Quincy or somewhere and there was a lady lived downstairs, her 50 grandfather used to manage that place. We were talking one time and I said I probably knew him because my wife and I looked out there to buy one of those duplexes. I guess it's still there, but there's another small world story see. Now see here's this, here's another picture. Like on the cover, here's 24th street, there's that big bend and here's where Del Monte was. LR: The Cannery? FY: The elevators were here. The packing house and the yards. Now in this picture the viaduct was there. Now there's the Broom Hotel which was built about 1880 something and this was 1920, a war parade. But you look at it you notice all the window blinds are even. You know it was in great shape. Well when they finally tore it down, had to be around 1960 or late 50s it was pretty decrepit. LR: It didn't look nearly as good? FY: It was kind of just abandoned and they built the bank. Oh here, here's one. Here's Washington boulevard, you remember I told you, see this is before the Ben Lomond, but there's the Orpheum theater. LR: See I thought the Orpheum was on 25th street. FY: No, the Orpheum was right there next to Ben Lomond. It's a state office building now. This was the old city hall, I don't remember that but anyhow remember I told you about the shoe store, right there. And these two little buildings between were there in the 70s. LR: now it's a parking lot. 51 FY: Yeah, next to the hotel. But there's visual evidence and you can—St. Joseph back in the 20s, that's also on the historic register. LR: Well it sounds like you enjoyed skimming through that. FY: Oh here, Sacred Heart Academy. I mentioned the girls school, 25th and Quincy. The nuns ran this and really some of these details I picked—they had 600 boarding students, all girls and every prominent Mormon pretty much sent their girls to St. Anne's for their education. It was the place, but what I found interesting in here is these nuns were from St. Mary's in South Bend, Indiana. There was a college there, St. Mary's College. You see now I got to look this up. Is Notre Dame what used to be St. Mary's College? I'm talking back 1878 when the nuns first came here see. That's how things build. They came out—St. Joseph's Catholic School, oldest school continuing in the whole state—started 1878 by these nuns on the corner. Now according to this, Utah Bank, Bank of Utah, southwest corner of 26th and Washington, anyhow they tore that down and we talked about this yesterday. Remember we talked about all the doctors who were downtown, mostly in the First Security Building. Well when they abandoned the school somebody got in there and turned it into a professional mall and that's when the doctors started leaving and getting spread around town. Which was another stake in the heart of downtown because that had to be, it's in here somewhere, 1960 or something like that. So those are some of the details. Here's Weber College, when the church gave it to the state. I understand they tore that building down. Now why the hell would they tear that down? 52 LR: It's the American mentality unfortunately. FY: Now stands an empty lot there. The city school district, Ogden City School District got this property and their offices there; it's on, what is it, Adams and 26th or something? I think it's across from the forest service. Anyhow the building on the corner is still there, but this was next and it's gone. LR: But the one with the WC on the façade? FY: I think. LR: I've driven past it a couple of times, they're doing some work on it right now. FY: Well anyhow there's the Shupe Williams Candy Company. LR: And this is the one on Wall and? FY: 26th. Now see that was on the southwest corner, now you're coming this way on Wall. You cross the street here and you ran into the Union Pacific Laundry and now that's where they have some of those old cars. Now transients burned this thing down. Now they're doing the same thing, I see in the paper they had a couple of fires this winter. They have a couple of old wooden railroad cars down there they got for restoration and they've run transients out because they've set them on fire trying to keep warm. That's what burned down that grocery store and I think the name was Nicholas, the grocer. Nicholas Grocer. LR: That actually makes sense, I recall that name. FY: During that period when 25th street was skid row, lot of those upstairs, you know they were a lot of hotels and rooming houses and stuff. Some old wino got cold in the middle of the night and lit a fire under the sink and burned the damn place 53 down. What I'm trying to find is that picture of the bridges across the Weber River down by the packing house. In here they mentioned Clix. LR: Is that a gas station? FY: Well Clix, his name was Clarence Swanner and he had a gas station on 26th and Grant I think it was. Northeast corner, Clicks Service. How come you're familiar with Clix Service? LR: I interviewed a gentleman whose grandfather owned it originally and sold it to the Swanners. FY: Well Clicks died at a 103 and he's mentioned in here playing cards or playing marbles on 25th street when he was a kid. Well see when he was a kid, he was probably born1895 or something, and so when he was playing marbles down there it was probably pretty much like the rest of Ogden, just rough frontier town. Here's a picture of the yards. I'll tell you what I did. I called my kid up last night and I went through this with him. LR: Would that be Marva's husband? FY: Yeah, cause we talked about these places. See there's the viaduct, don't know when that was built. This is 29th street, here's the elevators on 29th. You know where you go around them when you get on the freeway you go down 30th. These are the elevators see. That's 29th street LR: So this would be the station here? FY: No this is the Ice House and this here is where they, used to ice the reefers. LR: So where's the station? 54 FY: I can remember when they used to do that. LR: Ice the reefers? FY: Refrigerated cars had ice. Both ends had bunkers with hatches on the top and they'd run these refrigerated cars down there and they'd put ice out of the Ice House and they had a belt would run the ice. Guys would walk along the train, lift the hatch if they needed ice, they'd throw in a couple of 100 pound blocks and they iced every refrigerated train that went through here. Then they went to mechanical refrigeration and they tore this out, but the Ice House is still there. Here's 24th street, so the depot has got to be over and around here somewhere, but look at all the trackage. There was a Y out here. Train coming in from the east would pull into the station and then when it was leaving for the west it would back out and that Y is gone long time ago. See when I first came this was all active, there's the Southern Pacific Roundhouse. I had a neighbor, was a Southern Pacific engineer, and oh there's the old Bamberger train, probably at Lagoon. Here's the stock yards. Now see there's the packing house, just started out as American, as Ogden Packing, then went to American Packing and Provision then Swift bought them in 1949. LR: So that's where you worked? FY: Yeah and this was the ramp where they drove the livestock and here's these two bridges and I'm trying to find the picture. We were talking about Clix, he remembered when they put that bridge in and the bridge is still there and it's got a plaque on it, who built it, who installed it, when they installed it, all that information. Here it is, see. Now this was taken—there's no viaduct and the 55 packing house was probably in there somewhere maybe at this time it was probably pretty small. Here's the railroad bridge, this is the bridge Clix remembers when they installed it. It's over the Weber River and on this side of it there's a plague and you can still see it. Here's the road bridge that goes out Wilson Lane, that took you—see on this picture 24th street see came across and there's Wilson Lane and here's that spur that comes up to the elevators. So I don't know when they built the viaduct, but prior to that you had to cross the tracks and I imagine like on most railroad crossing back in those days that they'd have a guy come out with a sign, stop traffic while the trains went by. LR: Getting back to 24th street, did we finish 24th street then? FY: Yeah I think we did. Now we could go around the corner on 24th and Lincoln and go to the Iron Works, Ogden Iron Works is now where the ballpark is. The Ogden Iron Works was big, now I didn't notice anything in there, I could've missed it. By then it got pretty extensive. But I think they had something to do with the Golden Gate bridge, it was fabricated, all types of steel and stuff. That was going and the can company was going and Del Monte was going and the packing houses, we had three of them and they were all going. The railroads, you know things were booming. This was a going town and it distresses me to go downtown, I drive down 24th street. The First Security Banks empty, the Wells Fargo cross the street big signs space to let, and you go down where the church tore down and the old Travelodge hotel/motel all that's empty space. Then you go over here by Rite Aid down on 24th street, well kiddy-corner to Rite Aid is old Wheelwright Lumber, all abandoned. See it used to be 56 lumberyards were downtown, Anderson Lumber was down there and Wheelwright was there just on Adams or Monroe, somewhere in there. That place we talked about, I can't remember what Marva called it. LR: Burton. FY: Burton, that was downtown. The town I come from up in Rexburg, Boise, Cascade, still right downtown. Anderson Lumber left, but that's the way it was. All this space, there's urban blight, we got it. Now what they're starting to do, I read it and I see it, they've done some preliminary work. The city is going to open Fowler Avenue between 24th and 23rd and they're going to put 28 homes in the middle of that block. They've already cut down all the trees and I think the power company's run a couple of lines in. Then you know they have historic districts now and I can remember, that was probably 20 years ago, when they were selling homes to somebody for a buck or 100 bucks, for very little money if you'd restore them. Some of those neighborhoods are starting to come back, but lots of empty places. You go down on Washington Boulevard, lot of places they got business, strip malls. You know they got some of these big buildings, you see them advertising like stock broker, 24 or something suite 8. Well those were all big stores and businesses and there's a picture in here of 25th and Washington. LR: While you're looking let me ask you a question. So with the railroad stopping in the 70s, you talked about how it just kind of died. What do you think is bringing it back? Is helping it kind of become more of the city, the industrial, not industrial. You know what I'm trying to ask? I don't think I'm doing a very good job. 57 FY: I don't think it's coming back that fast. See it was diverse, Riverdale was all farms. You had, like everybody else you had urban sprawl. Everybody wanted to move out. Well that's bad but then when the businesses start moving out which is what happened with the Newgate Mall. When Stephen Dirks—he was talking about a mall before the Newgate Mall. They all downplayed it in the council chamber I guess. When they started Sear's was already gone, Woolworth's was already gone and probably several other places were gone. See you had there on one block, these were all like five and dime stores: W. T. Grant, you had Woolworth, Kresge, Newberry, I'm missing one. They were all there between 24th and 23rd on Washington. Then down—you know it had all kinds of stores. Cross's Western Wear was down there, we mentioned Reliable Furniture which later became Wolf. LR: You mentioned Reliable Furniture, yes. Isn't that where you got your— FY: No that's Madsen. Now Madsen is gone, they're gone but they're still in Salt Lake. I see them advertised on TV, Madsen Furniture. We were talking about that dinette set, over 40 years old and I'm still here and that's still here and Madsen's gone. Then, just come to mind. I think it was right next to the Episcopal Church. J.W. Brewer, tire company. I think he was on Grant. LR: He had a brief stint in the Browning Building, the one on Kiesel. It was only for a year and it was— FY: He sold appliances in there and I knew the guy who ran it, Sandy. Anyhow he ended up he was managing the Ben Lomond Hotel for a while and Cal Rampton was governor. When Cal Rampton would come to Ogden they'd take a room for 58 him there and Sandy what the hell was his name? He stocked it with a corncob pipe and some tobacco for the governor. It will come to me about 1:00 in the morning, but then he ran J. W. Brewer's I think, before he managed the hotel. He was on—I remember the store, it was a big store, J. W. Brewer tire. For a while he was like, not Les Schwab cause he's too big, but like Jack's Tire out of Logan. See Jack's Tire started in Logan, got a big place here and I don't know, they probably got a few others. J. W. Brewer had a couple, 3 locations and he was starting to build—I don't know whatever happened, but he was on Kiesel or Grant north of 24th I think. I remember the big store, big glass front. That was way before Big O, but there was a Firestone Store, that was his competitor. They were on 23rd and Washington, across from Reliable. Then I think Dar Larsen and a bunch of guys started a bank and their office was just up the hill from Washington on 23rd or 22nd and I can't remember the name of the bank, but they went defunct. Dar Larsen was Pepsi Cola. LR: That plant was on? FY: 17th and Washington. LR: I thought they had one on 25th street, the PepsiCo plant. I could be wrong. FY: Well they're going to tear that place down. It's now—I don't know what it is now— but it was a disco. It's right there by the river and they're going to tear it down. City is going to sell it to 7-11, they're going to put a 7-11 store there. Anyhow he and a bunch of guys started a bank and I can't remember what they called it, but it fizzled. I didn't recall seeing that in here, course I did a lot of skipping when it 59 looked familiar. Their office was just up the hill from Washington, somewhere on the north side of 23rd or 22nd, probably 23rd street. Standard Examiner was up on Adams and I think 23rd, that's where it was when Abe Glassman was running it. He had a farm that's now Smith's out on 41st and Harrison, that was the Glassman farm. For years they held out, they were developing all around and Glassman, I don't know he had about 40 acres in there, all gone. LR: I guess I should mention that I wanted you to talk about Kramer's, Kramer's Hot Dogs. I've heard a lot about it and would love to get your take. FY: It was, I don't know maybe the front end of a private home, but you walked up on the sidewalk and there was a window, Kramer's Hot Dogs and Hamburgers. The synagogue's in there, they must still have a synagogue in town, on 27th something Grant. Well that was about next door to Kramer's. Yeah they served— then further down was Utah Bottling where when they quit bottling they served beer and now I think there's apartments back in there. I can remember when they served schooners. Yeah I had more than one in there, nice cool plenty of parking. Kramer's was just a walk up storefront, it was—I mean there's the sidewalks and there's all the buildings, the fronts. It was Kramer's and it had a big window and you bought a hot dog or a hamburger and they were good. LR: Would you call them the best in town? FY: Well I don't recall, but there weren't many place to eat hamburgers as hamburger joints until about late 60s. They opened a place between 24th and 25th on the 60 east side, I think they called it the Burger Chalet. It wasn't like all those—narrow deep and you walked in, they had a telephone at each booth. You'd pick up the phone and place your order to the kitchen and that was there for several years. I remember when the first McDonald's opened, it was out across from Weber High School which was on about 11th and Washington Boulevard. It had the golden arches and hamburgers were 15 cents. Swift's supplied the burgers and I can remember when—guy's name was Frank Fidel who ran that part of the operation. He did the hotel and restaurant part of the business. Many a Saturday or Sunday he had to go down to the packing house and get hamburgers cause they, you know they didn't buy enough or something. Business was that great. Anyhow then I think they opened another place further down, south Washington Boulevard, but they gave it up when I remember it was big news. They gave it up because McDonald's then started to enclose it and they didn't think it was worth the effort or the expense. LR: So they closed the Kramer's? FY: So they sold McDonald's. Boy I bet that was a mistake. On that corner of 12th street about that time Mound Fort was on 12th and Washington, Mound Fort Junior High. Across the street there was an ice cream place and I think next door was a butcher shop. That turned into the Food Town, they tore all that out and put Food Town which is a big market which is gone now. There was a guy named Dover, owned the ice cream shop and they sold hamburgers and sandwiches. Got a lot of school trade at noon, but it had a false front, the façade, and they called it the White Cliffs of Dover and he had a picture painted on there 61 of the white cliffs of Dover. I think his name was Otto. Anyhow he built a house, he was one of those first houses going up east 12th that are kind of built up into the side hill? Anyhow he either built there or out on Harrison Boulevard where, I don't know how far out it is, maybe 4800 or 46 where there's a field and there's homes built kind of down in a gulley. They ran Harrison—they filled it in and ran Harrison through there. He served good ice cream sodas. Then on the other corner was a motel. LR: We have gotten off track a little bit, and I don't mind I'm enjoying what you're talking about. Getting back to 24th and 25th, I mean visually I can't tell where we're at, but do you think we've covered? FY: Well we've gone from Adams to Wall and across the yards. We went on 24th street all the way out to the freeway, out by Del Monte and the stock yards and the elevators. Out there— LR: So how many of these places did you have personal interaction with do you think? FY: Personal reactions? LR: Interactions, where you actually go and visit. You think most of them, a third? FY: Oh first, you know we've been talking about the Marion Hotel. Marion Hotel is on Lincoln, now what I don't know is what the hell was that hotel on 25th and Grant where I told you that the Friendly Tavern was next door and the Salvation Army Band would play. Now that was a hotel, I thought that was—I had in my mind that 62 that was the Marion until I saw a picture and Marion Hotel is still there with the sign and it's on Lincoln. LR: I don't know, I'd have to ask. Do you know? EM: No. FY: See that's now across from the federal building. LR: Right, so you want to know where the one was on the name of the hotel on Grant and 25th? FY: See we got the Healy Hotel now and the Royal. LR: The Healy and Broom Hotel were basically the same. FY: No, no. The Broom was on Washington and the Healy was on Wall. The Broom was that nice Victorian with the bay windows and that was a nice building. Yeah when they tore it down it was bad. They had to quit renting rooms, it was just too bad. Well I'll tell you I was in a lot of these places. We talked about Crittenden and Paint and Glass. Before Crittenden it was Fuller Paint and I used to buy paint from them cause they gave me wholesale price and then Crittenden took it over. See that's way back in the 50s. Minnie cut my hair, I drank beer at the Grant Tap, I went over to see Pete Vlahos in his office. LR: I can't get over Vlahos. I see his name and I say Valejos. FY: Nope he pronounced is Vlahos. Yeah the old Bamberger station and I talked about the bug house, you know old John Marsh. Lot of those bars and restaurants up and down 25th street besides the China Temple and the Star, everybody hit them because they were the only places open late that were nice. 63 The bus terminal yeah and the Elks Lodge, I never belonged but I used to get in there now and then. Brown's Ice Cream which was lately the Hostess Thrift Store, and Brown's Ice Cream was a premium ice cream and Swift bought them. Then when Swift closed you know they closed everything. That's when I guess the bakery bought it and they ended up pretty much that whole block except 25th street cause they bought the Elks Lodge and they bought Lacey's apartment house that was behind the Boracho and all that's left on that block that doesn't belong to the bakery is the west side of or the south side of 25th street. Just that one lot deep. There were places that I used to go into Read's and the Finer Tap, and Marva mentioned the Lighthouse bar. They used to be an electric shop, Lighthouse Electric, and they had that sign. I don't know is that sign still there? It was a Lighthouse and said Lighthouse Electric. Right under the Berthana or right next door to the Berthana yeah hell you know downtown. Hey on a Friday night and a Saturday night in Ogden when they had the dance halls going and all that if you didn't get down there by 6:00 or 6:30, you couldn't park three blocks from anywhere. There's a picture in there of the, I can't remember these things. The dance hall there on 24th and what was it, The White? LR: The White City. FY: White city, yeah. There's a picture in there of that ballroom. I danced there and danced at the Berthana and drank beer in most of the places. I never went in El Boracho. LR: That was going to be my next question, did you ever go in there? 64 FY: No, but you know I noticed driving down Wall Avenue about 26th or 7 there's a place called Pico De Gallo. The original Pico De Gallo was on Wall about 22nd or 23rd and it looked like a, the building looked like an old auto junk shop. It was cinder block and it was a dive. My brother used to come to town, he liked it. He liked the food and he'd go down there and it was a dive. I didn't dare go in and I remember the cinder block and they had a big window looked like it was made from you know like old car windshields or something. Anyhow I come back after 30 years and there's Pico De Gallo in a big fancy building. Well of course the place they had is gone, I guess that's part of that frontrunner, that whole development in there. Kammeyer's bought a lot of sporting goods in there and Read's they sold canvas goods, tents and stuff like that besides the leather and the saddlery. The hardware store, and I mentioned Ketchum's. By the time I went to Ketchum's, Klenke's was gone. I think that was the name of the place, love that old hardware store cause it was all compartmented. It was before blister packs and all these little drawers with a little index thing on front. The ladder with the track and I just groove on that stuff and I'm sure when they razed the building they just hauled it all instead of saving at least part of the wall. LR: I think we're winding down here, which I find sad. I want to keep talking, however can you think of anything else on those two streets that you've missed or that you'd like to add before we wind down? FY: I mentioned the gun and the Smith and Edward's. You got to check with Bert about that gun. 65 LR: I'll talk to Sarah and see what she can come up with. FY: You might check out that story I have about that horse by some vet out on west 12th street. LR: Now is that the one that they called Black Nig? FY: Old Nig. LR: Old Nig, thank you. I knew it was something like that. FY: Yeah that was—he was a famous horse around town, I don't know, probably somebody owned him. See now here, here's 25th street and Grant it's this building here on the corner. LR: The hotel? FY: Yeah see and over here would be the bus station. I was at the Egyptian theater back to hear—I can't remember if it was Robert Taft or Everett Dirkson, but I think it was Robert Taft. He tried running for president and he came out and he gave a speech at the Egyptian theater and they let any management people who desired to get off for an hour or two to go up to hear them talk. I remember, I was, boy I was a staunch republican and I was there. I remember, don't remember what he said but I remember the incident mostly because I got an hour or two off work see. Now here's 25th street see. Here's the Marion Hotel so what the hell is this one? LR: Okay that's where Willie's store is now, in the bottom of the Marion. FY: Why did they do this? 66 LR: Now it's a— FY: Diagonal? LR: Diagonal so they've changed it. FY: What were these barriers for? LR: Crosswalks, because there are crosswalks now. FY: That's the building. I thought that was—until I saw this picture I thought that was the Marion Hotel. See anyhow one of these places here was the Friendly Tap, the Friendly Tavern and the band would stand right there, Salvation Army Band, and they'd play for about an hour/45 minutes. It was great because it was about five people, they had the drum of course. Beating the bass, that's classic and we'd walk over and that's when I was telling you we were living on top of the Richard Sheet Metal cause we had that little dog. People were turning us down for an apartment and see here's the empty lot where the grocery store was and the hotel upstairs. After they shut down all the vice it became skid row. They tell you in here, yeah I remember it was a skid row and the only places decent people went was the China Temple or the Star Noodle cause you kind of feared for your life. It was porter's and waiter's club and what I found interesting in here, the names. They talk about councilmen and mayors and a lot of these names come back and I remember. I saw in there George T. Frost was the councilmen, elected to the council. I knew him, he had a Hudson dealership on Washington Boulevard. He had a brother that drove truck for Swift. I don't 67 remember his first name, we called him Frosty. He got killed, ran his truck over somewhere back east. Mayor White, Rulon White, he's the guy who started cleaning up the town. I guess I voted for him because he was elected 1951, I was here. He was the White Concrete Pipe Co. down on I think Wall Avenue they were. He had an orchard or something past the hot springs going up there on that fruitway and Rulon White Ranch was what they called it or something. 68

Issue 57.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1998. ; religious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review for Religious is a forum for. shared reflection on the lived experience~ of all who find, that the church's rich heritages of gpirituality support their personal and apostolic ¯ Christian lives. The articles in ~he journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (1SSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the .Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) cbntained 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 perxnission 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 r ligiou$ Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 34 48 leadership Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era Sandra M. Schneiders IHM offers an analysis of changing worldviews as an aid to understanding present-day religious congregations and exercising effective leadership in them. Leadership for the Common Good Donna J. Markham OP focuses on three areas of leadership skill development: conflict management, guarding against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium Anne Munley IHM sees congregational leadership as being the work of impassioned hearts sharing, finding, and making meaning in concert with all the members, with a view to warm cooperation in endeavors of burning urgency. 60 67 tradition Stability: A Monastic Charism Retrieved Joel Rippinger OSB explores stability as a matter of heart and place in the light of contemporary rootedness. History's Role in Defining Spiritual Direction Steve R. Wigall proposes that contemporary spiritual direction needs to embrace openly its historical and theological variety. Review for Religious 77 88 prayer Today's Contemplative Prayer Forms: Are They Contemplation? Ernest E. Larkin OCarm takes a discerning look at contemporary personal prayer practice and terminology against the background of centuries-long traditions. Union with God according to John of the Cross Paul J. Bernadicou SJ describes some aspects of the sanjuanist process towards intimacy with God. departments 4 Prisms 94 Canonical Counsel: Life Consecrated by Profession of the Evangelical Counsels 100 Book Reviews Jant~aty-Februat~ 1998 I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the Giver of life. prisms 4 T citizens of the United States in recent years have been reinforcing a reputation for being a people that has lost its sense of the sanctity of human life. After a brief lull in the use of the death penalty for what is considered heinous crimes, more and more individual states have been seeking execution for serious crimes committed by both men and women. Then, when we look to the beginning of life, we find that abortion in the United States, even in late term, is justified through the most permissive legal understanding allowed by any Western nation. Finally, when we consider the possible end of life, assisted suicide for the elderly or for the chron-ically ill is already legal in one state and is being promoted by a number of people who defend what is euphemisti-cally called "mercy killing." As we come ~o the last years of this millennium, this most powerful, prosperous, and well-educated nation is sadly being identified as a people that readily "takes life." The year 1998 focuses upon the Holy Spirit in our Christian preparations for entering into the third millen-nium guided by the pastoral plan presented to us by Pope John Paul. Whatever the strength of our faith, the Holy Spirit is the Trinitarian Person most difficult for us to talk about, t9 imagine, and to relate to. Spirit, breath, wind, love, fire are words that in themselves have no face nor even a substance that can be grasped. And yet these are some of the common, traditional words applied to the One we call the Third Person of our Trinitarian God. We might, though, begin this second year of our preparations for the millennium by calling in prayer upon the Spirit by a name appropriate to the times in which we live. Review for Religious In the Nicene Creed we express our belief in the Person called the Holy Spirit, professing first that he is Lord God and then designating this Person as "the Giver of life." What a wonderful identity--Giver of life--especially in regard to a people earning a reputation as "takers of life." It seems obvious that a basic gift we seek from God in this year 1998 is a renewed reverence, respect, and appreciation for human life. Throughout this year, perhaps we all need an examination of conscience on behavior involving us as "takers of life." "Takers of life" can involve an attitude which sullies our approach to any part of God's creation--each part a gift from God. We can become so self-centered that everything--from the ecological environ-ment to the earth's resources to human life itself--is viewed in its value now for us. Takers of life know no gratitude, for life is not seen in terms of gifting but only in terms of getting, a disease of a consumer society. Let us pray that the Holy Spirit will inspire and guide our efforts to be, like God, gi,vers of life. The age-old prayer still speaks out our desire: "Come, Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful." Review for Religious continues to have its own experience of life being given to us. New life continues to flow into our Advisory Board as some members finish their term of service, and new members join. We welcome Sister Kathryn Richards FSP, vice-provincial of the USA province of the Daughters of St. Paul and executive director of the twenty Pauline Book and Media Centers in the USA and English-speaking Canada. She is also the direc-tor of Paulinas Distribudora, the Daughters' Hispanic media dis-tribution center, and the director of the National Association of Pauline Cooperators, the lay collaborators of the Daughters of St. Paul. In addition we welcome Bishop Carlos Sevilla SJ, bishop of the diocese of Yakima, Washington. Bishop Sevilla serves as a member of the NCCB committees on Hispanic affairs and on religious life and ministry. Before his ordination as bishop, he had filled administration and formation roles in the Society of Jesus (California province). Farewells are always harder to express than welcomes. I want to express my appreciation to Father Edmundo Rodriguez SJ and to Sister Iris Ann Ledden $SND for their many contributions to the advisory board over the years of their service. We remain grateful for their continuing interest and support. David L. Fleming SJ January-Febr~,aot 1998 o o o o o o leadership SANDRA M. SCHNEIDERS Congregational Leadership and Spirituality in the Postmodern Era In addressing the issue of leadership in congregations which are increasingly influenced by the emergence of cultural postmodernism, I write not as one who is engaged in leadership or trained in the fields of organization and management, but as a theologian reflecting on the spiri-tuality of contemporary religious. But part of my prepa-ration for these reflections involved talking with a number of religious in leadership positions, asking them what were the major challenges they faced as leaders. One woman, by means of a highly symbolic vignette, epitomized what many others expressed. She said that, if one prepared an agenda for a meeting far enough ahead of time for the participants to come prepared, the first item on the agenda would be the revision of the agenda because the actual situation in the congregation would have changed so sig-nificantly that neither the items on the agenda nor their relative importance would be what they had been when the agenda was formulated. In other words, the challenges about which leaders talked were not so much specific problems but pandemic unpredictability and uncontrol-lability. While leaders face particular challenges because of Sandra M. Schneiders IHM presented this paper, here slightly revised, to the Leadership Conference of Woxnen Religious on 23 August 1997 in Rochester, New York. She is professor of New Testament Studies and Christian Spirituality at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley, where her address is JSTB; 1735 LeRoy Avenue; Berkeley, California 94709. Review for Religious their public role and more global responsibilities, the situation which makes leadership so difficult today is the same one all of us in religious life face, namely, the context of chaos within which we are trying to live religious life coherently and minister effectively. It is this peculiarly contemporary experience and its significance for spirituality that requires analysis and engagement. Whether or not we articulate it explicitly, we are always living, thinking, working within and out of some implicit worldview which defines both the problems and the potentialities of our historical situation.~ Until we come to some understanding of that world-view, we stand little chance of developing an operative spirituality. How we understand reality in general, religious life in particular, and our own congregation specifically determines what we think we are doing as religious leaders or followers. A worldview is like light or a pair of glasses. We do not notice its role in what and how we see until it flickers or gets cloudy. Furthermore, until relatively recently we were unaware of the plurality of worldviews because we thought that what we saw was simply what is, rather than what is visible through a particular set of lenses which not everyone in the world is wearing. Until the mid-sixties Catholics in general and religious in particular lived within a peculiarly schizophrenic worldview whose intrinsic con-tradictions seldom came clearly into view. Within the institution and culture of the cht~rch, we lived out of a medieval worldview in which society was organized according to an ontologically based, and therefore unchangeable, hierarchy of status and roles; in which all reality could and must be explained in the categories of an Aristotelian/Thomistic philosophy and the-ology; and in which the next world, and therefore religion, held a clear priority over the present world and its concerns. However, outside the church arena we lived out of a modern worldview in which democratic capitalism constructed an economically com-petitive society within a deceptive rhetoric of personal equality. The explanation of reality in this modern world was supplied by the confluence of the dualistic philosophy of Descartes, the mechanistic physics of Newton, the deterministic biology of Darwin, and the materia.listic hydraulics of Freudian psychology. The practical priority of this world over the afterlife was expressed in the banishing of religious concerns from public life to the pri-vate realm of family and church. Although these two worldviews, medieval and modern, were Januat3,-Februat~y 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality largely incompatible, what they had in common may be more sig-nificant for our present considerations than how they differed. Both of these worldviews presented chaos as the ultimate enemy and order as the ultimate good. It is hardly surprising, then, that we are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpre-dictability and uncontrollability of so much of our experience today. And, the more people, property, and projects we are respon-sible for, the more threatening and even paralyzing widespread chaos in our domain of responsibility is likely to be. However, as cultural critics are increasingly convinced, the modern worldview itself is rapidly giving way to what is being called postmodernirm, a worldview that is still largely inchoate and unarticulated, but which is actually conditioning our experience more deeply and extensively than we can yet appreciate.2 Characteristic of this emerging worldview is what is being called the "new science" or quantum physics,3 which is not only calling into question the adequacy of Newtonian science to explain the natural or physical world, but implying the necessity for a new, cosmologically based philosophy that sees much deeper connec-tions between matter and spirit, between humans and the rest of reality, between this world and whatever transcends it.4 Implied in the collapse of the classical dualisms is ~i revisioning of chaos and order which may open up some possibilities for reinterpreting our present experience within religious life. Although I have been reading voraciously in the new science for a while, I do not claim to understand, much less be able to explain, quantum physics. What I want to do, however, is to use a few of its basic categories, namely, autopoietic structures, fields, and strange attractors, as metaphors for thinking about contem-porary experience in religious congregations. After exploring these categories from the new science in relation to religious life, I will try to make'some suggestions that are theologically sound, spir-itually vital, and culturally plausible about our current experience of religious life and leadership. Autopoietic Structures Margaret Wheatley, in her wonderfully provocative book Leadership and the New Science, brings together new ideas from biology, chemistry, and quantum physics which are analogous in suggesting that order and chaos are not contradictories, but that Review for Religious order emerges from chaos as from its matrix,s Furthermore, con-trol is not synonymous with order nor does it produce stability. Rather, control causes a deadly immobility or stasis which ulti-mately dooms the structure to disintegration. This phenomenon of the constructive relationship between chaos and order is characteristic of living organisms. Erich Jantsch, whom Wheatley cites, describes autopoiesis as "the characteristic of liv-ing systems [by which they] continu-ously renew themselves and., regulate this process in such a way that the integrity of their structure is main-tained.'' 6 In other words, living things maintain their integrity and identity not by eliminating change, but by continu-ous, dynamic interaction with their environment. It is equilibrium, not change, that is fatal! However, the history of religious life in the United States from the 19th century until Vatican II was character-ized by steadily increasing equilibrium and control and steadily decreasing interaction with the environment.7 After the chaotic pioneering days--when our founders and foundresses braved the rigors of frontier life using everything that came to hand, secular and profane included, to survive personally and institutionally-- American religious life settled into a rigidly defined and tightly controlled pattern within an increasingly battened-down eccle-siastical institution. Interchange with the environment was ever more stringently controlled and, to the extent possible, elimi-nated. We understood our congregations as Newtonian machine-like systems composed of virtually identical parts, operating according to established laws of motion codified in Rules and. customs books and functioning best when no part acted in orig-inal, that is, "singular" ways. Leaders functioned somewhat like factory managers maintaining strict control (erroneously seen as order) for the sake of spiritual and ministerial efficiency. Newtonian physics, which supplied this machine model for all systems, also gave us the laws of thermodynamics which gov-ern such systems. The second law of thermodynamics tells us that, when a system reaches equilibrium, entropy or disintegration We are uncomfortable to the point of panic amid the unpredictability and uncontrollability of so mucl of our experience today. Janllary-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality sets in. We moderns learned that this law of increasing entropy or the inevitable wearing down of systems was also characteristic of living things (which we understood as basically very complicated machines) and certainly true of organizations such as religious congregations.8 What the new science is telling us is that social organizations are not entropic like machines, but more like living organisms, which are autopoietic, that is, self-renewing. The basis of autopoiesis or self-re-creation is the openness of organisms to their environment. As Wheatley says, Each structure has a unique identity, a clear boundary, yet it is merged with its environment . What we observe. ¯ in all living entities, are boundaries that both preserve us from and connect us to the infinite complexity of the out-side world. Autopoiesis, then, points to a different universe. Not the fragile, fragmented world we attempt to hold together, but a universe rich in processes that support growth and coherence, individuality and community.9 When we look at religious congregations of the 1950s, we see relatively hermetically sealed organizations operating accord-ing to the quantitative laws of mechanics. Numbers, material resources, institutional agencies of influence, and hierarchical control of all operations were the sources of efficiency. The cat-aclysm of Vatican II and its immediate predecessors in religious life such as the Sister Formation Movement suddenly opened these closed systems to their environment. New information of all kinds flooded the system. Sisters studied new disciplines in secu-lar as well as religious universities and interacted with a variety of people they formerly would never have encountered in any mean-ingful way. The mass media and the uncensored contents of libraries burst through the boundaries of the closed system. And then Vatican II called on congregations to reevaluate those old-world traditions which had so effectively kept religious out of the mainstream of American culture. Ministries changed dramatically and, with them, living situations. Contacts with other religious and with the laity, stringently rationed in previous times, broad-ened and deepened. In short, religious congregations suddenly drew deep breaths of fresh air and discovered that they were not ecclesiastical robots but sociospiritual organisms, living systems in vital interaction with their environment. Increasingly congregations, and their relatively uniform mem-bers, began to exhibit the characteristics of autopoietic structures. Review for Religious Perhaps the most unsettling characteristic is that a healthy liv-ing system is in a continuous state of disequilibrium. New infor-mation, constantly flowing into the system from the environment, challenges it to respond, to change, and to develop without loss of integrity or identity. There is no settling down, no way to call off the bombardment of the new and just be. There are no per-manently right answers, no one correct way to do things, no abso-lute authority. The organism is always off balance. Local chaos is the normal condition out of which global order is continuously being both threatened and resourced. Another characteristic of autopoietic structures, precisely because they are not in balance but precariously poised in the turbulence of a constantly changing ambiance, is that very small influences can have very significant effects on the system. In mechan-ical entities, significant change is usually proportionate to the mass of the influencing agents. Large groups, sizable funds, long-range plans are necessary to alter the status quo. But in a living system a small agent, for example, a virus, can have tremendous impact because it can galvanize the whole organism into response.'° The effect of one book like The Nun in the Modern World, or one speaker like Theresa Kane, is out of all proportion to the mass of the cause. One person generating negative energy can immobilize a whole assembly while one visionary chapter pro-posal can propel the whole congregation into self-renewal. A third feature of living systems is that they are programmed toward life. In this respect they are the very antithesis of the machine. Once entropy has set in, the machine inevitably and irreversibly winds down toward disintegration.11 But, even when very diminished, very endangered, the living system is mobilized toward self-renewal, toward regeneration. I think the merging of some small communities and the combining of facilities among others are examples of this salmonqike burst of upstream energy characteristic of open systems. Fourth, self-organizing systems'are bundles of competencies, "portfolios of skills," rather than collections of optimally func-tioning units,lz This feature has been ve.ry prominent in post-conciliar congregations. V~rhen individual religious or congregations decide that a particular institution or form of ministry no longer responds to the environment and they reconfigure competencies to meet new needs, it seems to me that they are manifesting an organic self-understanding, not, as some seem to think, a des- January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality perate need to' find something useful to do until the corporate lights go out. Fifth, as Wheatley says, self-r~newing systems are "structures that seem capable of maintaining an identity while changing form. They exhibit "global stability" over time even as their subsystems undergo enormous, seemingly chaotic, change. I was struck by this feature of living systems when I first saw the Great Barrier Reef, the largest organism on earth. This enormous living sys-tem has a form that makes it so distinct from its oceanic envi-ronment that it is even recognizable from the moon, and yet every cell of its vast expanse is undergoing incessant change. Most reli-gious can remember the stupendous resistance to even minor, external changes in religious congregations on the eve of Vatican II. We could hardly conceive of a maintenance of identity through incessant change, and any attempt to engage the environment seemed like a sellout to secularity. But autopoietic structures main-tain their identity precisely by changing in response to environ-mental influence. Obviously not all living systems survive, much less thrive. What determines whether an organism will successfully negotiate what Wheatley calls the "bifurcation point" where the choice between death and transformation occurs? ~4 Wheatley maintains that the deciding factor is what she calls the principle of "self-ref-erence." Healthy organisms do not change randomly or in any and all directions. Rather, they change in ways that are both respon-sive to the environment arid consistent with their own already established identity. A firmly established identity makes the organ-ism both responsive and resilient, both dialogical and autonomous. Whereas a static system constructs external boundaries, fences designed to keep out the influence of the environment and hold the assemblage of units together, the healthy organism develops organic boundaries which make it increasingly autonomous in relation to external pressures even as it remains deeply involved in the ongoing process of iriterchange. Unlike a fence which sim-ply walls out the "other," the organic surface of the Great Barrier Reef is both a resource for relationship with the environment and a self-defining boundary. "Self-reference is what facilitates orderly change in turbulent environments.''~5 This raises directly the question of identity. If religious life itself, religious congregations, and individual religious are open, autopoietic systems whose incessant interaction with the envi- Review for Religious ronment is governed by the principle of self-reference, that is, fidelity to core identity in the midst of continual disequilibrium, what establishes that identity? How is it recognized and main-tained? Fields To begin to get some purchase on this issue, I want to intro-duce a second metaphor from the new science, the familiar but mysterious category of "field." Religious life has always involved the creation by some Christians, "religious virtuosi" in the ter-minology of sociologist Patricia Wittberg,'6 of an alternative "world" within which to live their faith, whether that was a sociologi-cal, geographical, or institutional reality construction.~7 The expres-sion so often used for entering reli-gious life, namely, "leaving the world," was a negative articulation of the positive act of choosing an alternative arena for one's life. Today, speaking of entering reli-gious life as "leaving the world" is so probleinatic as to be counterpro-ductive. Nevertheless, there is something about religious life which distinguishes it from other forms of life. It has an identity. Like the Great Barrier Reef, it stands out from its cultural and ecclesiastical environment even while being involved in continu-ous interchange with it. Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life than the quasi-geo-graphical one of alternative world is the category of "fields." Science has made us aware that reality is composed not pri-marily of substances but of space. Space, however, is not empty. Rather, "space everywhere is now thought to be filled with fields, invisible, non-material structures that are the basic substance of the universe."ls Fields are invisible geometries structuring space, invisible media of connection bringing matter an&or energy into form. We cannot see fields any more than we can see space, but we can observe the effects of fields on that which comes within their influence. We have all seen this mysterious phenomenon in operation when iron filings come within the field of magnetic Perhaps a better metaphor or model for understanding the identity of religious life is the category of "fields." January-Februaty 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality influence and arrange themselves in certain patterns. Wheatley hypothesizes that personal and corporate space is also filled with fields, both positive and negative, and that, when the personal fields of the people in an organization intersect with the corpo-rate fields of the organization itself, certain predictable behav-iors are manifest. I find this metaphor very descriptive of a frequently experi-enced phenomenon, namely, that the same people behave very differently in situations which do not, exteriorly, differ notice-ably. Something "in the air" (or, perhaps more accurately, "in the space") affects them, for good or ill, and often everyone in the situation is similarly affected. We sometimes call it morale, or good or bad energy, or social climate. Sometimes we even speak of being "in good or bad space." We also know that an individual who is personally "in bad space" either can be pulled out of it by entering positive corporate space or can cause positive space to curdle. Social space, in our experience, seems to be really invisi-bly structured. Perhaps this metaphor of fields could help illuminate the issues of corporate and personal identity that religious have strug-gled with for years under the rubrics of "charism" and "vocation" and their intersection in the mysterious corporate identity prin-ciple called the "spirit of the congregation." Probably the only thing we have agreed on in regard to charism is that it is a mys-terious something that generates a certain recognizable congre-gational identity. Some have tried to equate it with the congregation's traditional ministry, or to identify it as a grace given to the foundress which was somehow passed on to later members, or to find it embodied in a characteristic spirituality. None of these explanations has proved very satisfactory, and all fail in relation to one or another congregation. Wheatley suggests that social fields are generated as people converse, share their visions and hopes, work out their problems, develop modes of interacting, participate in common projects, elaborate symbols and myths to articulate their shared identity and experience?9 In other words, groups create or generate fields. When coherent fields are generated in corporate space, people are drawn together; they begin to act in corporate ways. Eventually the group ethos can be recognized in the members. This sounds very much like what we mean by charism, an invis-ible structuring of corpor.ate space which manifests itself in the Review for Religious indefinable "something common" that is visible in the attitudes and behaviors of all the members. Furthermore, fields, once gen-erated, can outlast the individuals or groups that generated them. Perhaps what comes down through history from our foundations is not some work, set of rules, or uniform spirituality to which new members must conform, but a structured shared space that continues to give common form to ever new energy coming into the congregation in new members. When a new individual comes into this space, her own per-sonal fields intersect with the corporate fields of the congregation and the person is either drawn into and ener-gized by this cgrporate space or not. If vocation were understood as a certain constellation of overlapping fields in an individual personality's inner space, structuring that person's energy and behavior, her entering a congregation would involve the intersection of her personal vocational field with the fields of the particular congregation, especially its charism. Vocational discernment could be understood, then, as try-ing to discover if her personal fields and the congregation's corporate fields are mutually compatible and enriching or not. When the fields that structure the inner space of an individual (that is, her own voca-tion or life call) intersect creatively and har-moniously with the fields that structure the corporate space of a congregation (that is, its charism and other characteristic fea-tures), we often say that the person has "the spirit of the congre-gation." When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Perhaps what we mean by the spirit of the congregation is the global identity of the group as it manifests itself within the complex of fields that invisibly but really structures the personal into the cor-porate. 2° To use this field metaphor for understanding charism, voca-tion, and the spirit of the congregation does not reduce these realities to the purely natural any more than accounting for the universe by the theory of the "big bang" or for human emergence by evolution denies the divine role in creation. The metaphor simply offers us a more organic way of understanding the human When the members of a congregation are together in "good space," they often feel "the spirit of the congregation." Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality experience of stable and shared congregational identity in the midst of incessant change. It also provides a possible answer to the question about self-reference as the key to coherence for an open, autopoietic sys-tem experiencing continuous life-giving disequilibrium. In a sense, nothing observable in the congregation remains the same--type of ministry, horarium and content of spiritual exercises, commu-nity lifestyle, dress codes, financial practices, patterns ~of inter-acting-- but the field, the spirit of the congregation, in which all the change takes place can account for the ever new order which arises out of the seemingly chaotic pluralism and incessant vari-ation that characterize the community's day-to-day life over time. The Strange Attractor A third possibly illuminating metaphor, drawn from the new science, is that of the "strange attractor," a simple example of which many of us have seen as the computer screen saver of inces-santly changing lines and curves which maintain a moving form that is never repeated. Wheatley says this about the "strange attractor": Chaos theory has given us images of "strange attractors"-- computer pictures of swirling motion that trace the evolu-tion of a system. A system is defined as chaotic when it becomes impossible to know where it will be next. There is no predictability; the system never is in the same place twice. But as chaos theory shows, if we look at such a sys-tem long enough and with the perspective of time, it always demonstrates its inherent orderliness. The most chaotic of systems never goes beyond certain boundaries; it stays con-tained within a shape that we can recognize as the system's strange attractor . '~ This description seems very pertinent to the history of religious life, not to mention that of individual congregations. Religious life has undergone so much movement, so much deep-level change, that it is indeed impossible to know where it will be next. It is never in the same place twice. At times it seems to be in total disarray. And yet, over its nearly two-thousand-year history, it demonstrates a moving pattern which makes it recognizable, distinguishable against the background field of ecclesial life. What, we may ask, is the strange attractor of religious life? A strange attractor is a basin for the system's activity that Review for Religious pulls all activity within the system into a form or shape but with-out immobilizing the system or reducing its inner variety to pre-dictability. The strange attractor itself is not visible. It manifests itself by its power to allow a few simple "instructions," for exam-ple, equations, to repeat and intersect as they feed back upon themselves in an infinite variety of ways so that these iterations create analogous forms at finer and finer levels. These forms are what we call fractals, repetitions at various levels of scale that manifest the whole in each part. Our most homely example is probably a head of broccoli in which each flowerette, down to the tiniest, repeats the pattern of the whole head. But we can see it also in the computer image of lines and curves, or in the clouds, or in a branch of fern. VVheatley was moved to ask the question about the strange attractor when she observed that, in terminally dysfunctional sys-tems verging on collapse, where almost everyone had psycholog-ically abandoned ship and survival had become the only agenda, there were some individuals within the dysfunctional system who continued to be personally centered, creative, and productive. Amid corporate disintegration, personal order. She also observed--in healthy organizations which allowed maximum autonomy, even seeming chaos, at the local level--that the seem-ingly chaotic variety at the local level did not lead to disintegra-tion, but to a kind of global order and stability. Out of local chaos, global order. Somehow the creative individuals in the disinte-grating systems and the healthy organizations permitting high levels of local autonomy were pulled into coherence as if a strange attractor were at work. Her highly suggestive conclusion is that the strange attractor in both cases is meaning generated by a "frame of reference," that is, a coherent vision and pattern of val-ues, which gives direction to all the seemingly disparate activity. Meaning, vision, values, however, are formal categories. What vision, what values, what meaning might be the strange attractor of religious life that accounts for its self-identity and coherence, its fractal wholeness and beauty, through nearly two millennia of chaotic movement in an often dysfunctional church?22 More importantly, is the strange attractor still at work, still generating a recognizable lifeform today in what might be one of the most chaotic periods of development in the history of religious life? Are there a few "equations" that have iterated throughout these two millennia in thousands of different fractal realizations man- January-February 1998 Schneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality ifesting the strange attractor that keeps this lifeform coherent and true to itself?. From the time of the lst-century virgins until it was pro-claimed anew by Vatican II, the basic principle, the fundamental "equation," has been that religious life is essentially gospel life. The pattern of the life has been the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, perhaps the ultimate instance of order out of chaos, that is, life out of death. Of course, religious life shares this deter-mining equation with all Christian life. But religious life has also always been distinguished from lay Christian life by the particu-lar way religious have entered into the paschal mystery of Christ, by the specifically religious "equation," namely, by the life of con-secrated celibacy lived in community and mission. The strange attractor of religious life, then, may be a partic-ular kind of gospel-based relationship with Jesus Christ, expressed in freely chosen lifelong celibacy, lived in community and mis-sion, that has generated a lifeform which is distinct and recog-nizable despite enormous variety. It has reinvented itself endlessly, but from a distance and over time we can note the repeated pat-terns, its fractal wholeness. The effect of the strange attractor is a global stability and self-identity through incessant change, a particular and recognizable order out of chaos. Christian Spirituality and Congregational Leadership If these metaphors .drawn from the new science--that is, the congregation as an open and autopoietic system invisibly structured by the corporate fields that manifest in the spirit of the congre-gation within the shaping influence of the strange attractor of celi-bate living of the Gospel in community and mission--are illuminating of our current experience of religious life in our par-ticular congregations, we can ask what light they throw on the problematic of leadership. Does such a postmodern model of reli-gious life based on metaphors drawn from the new science suggest anything helpful in understanding what leadership in such sys-tems might mean today? Obviously, the image of the leader as manager whose task is to minimize disequilibrium by control of all personnel, policy, and practice is obsolete. But probably the image of the leader as the lone visionary who boldly imagines and projects goals to gal-vanize the membership toward the future is also obsolete. This is Review for Religious not because care of the community and corporate vision are not as important today as they have always been, but because we increasingly realize that they are the shared responsibility of the entire congregation.23 What is characteristic of the context of leadership today is that the kinds of systems over which leaders preside are situations which are not only uncontrollable in fact, but chaotic in principle. Chaos is the system's "steady state." Whatever leaders do today, it cannot be imagined realistically as merely the direction of reliable resources toward clearly perceived objec-tives. It has to have something to do with the creative potential of chaos itself. Even while managing the modern social systems that our congregations, at one level, certainly are, leaders are chal-lenged to engage the deep dynamics of meaning in the increasingly postmodern systems that we are becoming. It seems to me that religious life today is at the bifurcation point between death and transformation, between entropy and self-renewal, and therefore that the responsibility of leaders in relation to the deep dynamics of meaning has to do with the prin-ciple of self-reference which Wheatley identifies as the most impor-tant single determinant of self-renewal in autopoietic structures.24 The science of autopoietic systems suggests that, if the congre-gation (or religious life as a lifeform) is true to itself, in touch with and living out of its own identity, it will continue to renew itself even in the face of the massive material and ecclesiastical challenges of this historical period. If it is the case that the iden-tity of religious life lies in the celibate living of the gospel in com-munity and mission within the spirit of the particular congregation, we are at the heart of the issue. And the issue is faith. In what follows I am relying heavily on a remarkable 1995 study by a British theologian, Denys Turner, of the apophatic ele-ment in the Christian mystical tradition.2s In this book Turner is dealing with what I suspect is the most challenging issue for all of us in religious life today, but perhaps especially for those charged with the care of the community as a whole, namely, the mean-ing, reality, and integrity of Christian faith today. Religious life is fundamentally a faith reality, and the faith in question is not simply a generalized conviction that there is more to reality than meets the eye. Christian faith is both an unthe-matized openness to the ineffable Divine Mystery that has no name and a thematized participation in a particular religious tra- t--!-9- January-Februa~3~ 1998 Scisneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality 20 dition which believes that this Holy Mystery is both revealed and encountered in Jesus of Nazareth risen from the dead whose life is communicated to us in and through the gift of his Holy Spirit within the community called church. A major question today for Christians, including religious, and especially women, is whether these two aspects of faith, unthematized openness to Divine Mystery (which is not necessarily Christian) and thematic adher-ence to a particular religious tradition (namely, Christianity), are or need necessarily be related and, if they are related, how that can be personally experienced and authentically lived. Many postmodern Christians are caught in an experiential disjunction between their God-experience on the one hand and, on the other, their participation in the particular faith tradition, that is, the religion, within which they were initiated into that God-experience and which still claims to mediate it. In other words, there is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. This may be partially due to the sudden (at least historically speaking) reversal of our evaluation of the role of experience in spirituality that coincided with the upheavals in religion of the conciliar era. Let me trace this development in broad strokes. For several centuries Christians were educated to discount feeling in the practice of religion in favor of a kind of blind faith and naked exercise of will. It was not the person who believed but the intellect; not the person who loved but the will. The body with its emotions was that which had to be overcome and sub-jected in order for the soul to seek God. This approach to the spiritual life, which effectively reduced spirituality to religious practice, was seriously challenged by at least three developments in the middle of this century. First, for all kinds of reasons that were psychological and cul-tural as well as theological, the radical wholeness of the human person began to resurface, and many believers began to reclaim the importance, perhaps even priority, of feeling in religious prac-tice. Retreat directors learned to ask people how they felt, not what they thought. Retreatants learned to be attentive to subjec-tive states of consolation .and desolation. Discernment began to take into account the person's felt response to alternative possi-bilities. Rather than considering felt religious experience unreli-able or even suspect, people began to consider it the touchstone, even the essence, of genuine spirituality. Desiring such experi- Review for Religious ence, seeking it, trusting it, living from it was no longer an aber-ration but the norm. Second, the feminist movement took hold among Catholic women, and its analysis of patriarchy enabled women to name and claim their experience of oppression in the church and to trace ecclesiastical sexism to its theological roots in Scripture and tradition. Women's experience of the Catholic religious tradition became laced with negative feeling just as they were learning that feeling was not irrelevant, but a valid and important indicator of the real. Many concluded that, if Catholic religion feels deeply alienating, Catholic spirituality may be highly suspect. Third, Catholics, for the first time, came into meaningful appreciative contact with non-Christian religious traditions where they encountered spiritualities that counteracted some of the very aspects of Christianity that were becoming increasingly problematic. The nature-affirming rituals of native American spirituality countered the overcerebral otherworldliness of traditional Catholic wor-ship. The nondualistic, nondogmatic meditation practices of Eastern mystical traditions offered an attractive alternative to the rationalistic and mechanical prayer practices of ordinary Catholic piety. Thus, at the very time that experience was becoming the touchstone of truth in the sphere of religion, both negative and positive experiences in the realm of spirituality converged to undermine adherence to the Roman Catholic Christian tradition. This has led some, perhaps many, religious to seriously question whether Catholic Christianity offers an adequate, much less a preferable, access to Holy Mystery or compelling motivation for ministry. For many the God of Christianity seems too small, too violent, and too male; the focus on Jesus Christ seems narrow and exclusive; the resurrection seems mythological if not incred-ible and, in any case, irrelevant to a world in anguish; the insti-tutional church seems hopelessly medieval, sexist, and clerical; liturgy is alienating; morality is out of touch with reality; and church ministry is a continual battle with male hostility and power There is an experienced disjunction between spirituality as lived faith experience and religion as articulated tradition. Januao~-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality dynamics. Spirituality centered in personal experience was increas-ingly engrossing while religion, especially the Catholic religion, was increasingly alienating. After a certain amount of experimentation, many religious have settled into a kind of personal, often highly eclectic, spiri-tuality within the context of a nominal Christianity whose central tenets and practices are of little practical import in their lives. Their God may no longer be the God of Jesus Christ, but a non-personal, benevolent cosmic energy holding reality together in some mysterious way. Jesus may have been consigned to history as one of many prophetic figures whose memory remains moti-vating although they themselves are long dead. The Bible may no longer be, for them, revelatory or normative Scripture, but one religious classic among others. Christian sacraments may be quarries of symbolic elements which can be combined with anal-ogous elements from other traditions in the formulation of mean-ingful rituals. Prayer may be any practice from listening to music, to Zen sitting or Tai Chi, to hiking or massage which is calming and focusing and helps one keep a balance in a crazy world. In religious communities the effect of these developments in spirituality is profoundly disintegrative. It can no longer be taken for granted that the members share the same faith, a serious sit-uation for a lifeform which is based not only on faith but specif-ically on Christian faith. Members for whom Christian faith remains normative may hesitate to speak in explicitly Christian terms lest they be branded reactionary or dismissed as out of. touch with contemporary reality, while post-Christian or selec-tively Christian members may hesitate to voice their spirituality lest they shock their hearers or find themselves branded as heretics. Christian liturgical celebration at congregational events is sometimes so divisive as to be impossible. Nevertheless, wherever they are on the Christian map, reli-gious women continue to be resolutely religious, seeking God in disciplined spiritual practice, making retreats, engaging seriously in spiritual direction, reading widely and deeply in theology and spirituality, attending workshops and renewal programs. Those religious who have survived the postconciliar exodus and are still committed to both community and ministry are not indifferent to the God quest that brought them to religious life in the first place. This is the point at which the disjuncture between spirituality which is a matter of passionate concern and religion which is a Review for Religious locus of struggle and alienation is apparent; and, in my opinion, this may be the bifurcation point at which the choice between death and transformation is going to be made. We cannot afford to ignore this situation or pretend it does not really matter as long as people are sincere and committed. What is in jeopardy is not control but self-reference, the con-gregation's response to its strange attrac-tor, that is, to religious life itself as a faith reality. It seems to me that what many reli-gious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to find God in a kind of personal mystical quest that bypasses what are experienced as the superficiali-ties and hypocrisies, and even the vio-lence, of the official structures of institutional Catholic Christianity. In par-ticular, many are trying to find in the Christian mystical tradi-tion itself guidance for developing an apophatic or nonthematic contemplative spirituality that is experientially satisfying and moti-vating, but that bypasses the concreteness of the Christian cat-aphatic tradition with its specifically religious beliefs, liturgy, and practice. In short, it is an attempt to develop a spirituality with-out religion. Denys Turner wrote his treatise on the Christian mystical tradition, The Darkness of God, as a challenge to this contemporary development, which he calls spiritual "experientialism" and which he sees as widespread among Christians in general. Turner regards this experientialism as a kind of modernist positivism in the arena of spirituality. In other words, felt religious experience has become the "hard data" of authentic spirituality analogous to the observ-able results of laboratory experiments in modern science or the quantifiable data of sociological surveys. Personal experience has become the nonnegotiable criterion of validity in the arena of faith.26 The practice of contemplation, yielding direct experience of either the delightful presence or the painful absence of Holy Mystery, has become for many the sufficient, if mir~imal, structure, content, and dynamics of their spirituality, augmented perhaps by a symbolic and ritual eclecticism that draws from various reli-gious and nonreligious traditions. This experience of Holy Mystery is believed to be "apophatic," that is, unencumbered by What many religious are attempting is not to dispense with faith, but to develop a spirituality without religion. January-February 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality specific religious doctrines, images, symbols, liturgical traditions, and so on. Against this misguided turn to experience Turner maintains, with impressive support from the data of the tradition, that there is no such thing as "apophatic experience." This is a contradiction in terms. The experience of the absence of God is just as much an experience, that is, just as cataphatic, as is the experience of God's presence even though it might be less enjoyable. It is the quest for mystical experience itself, and especially reliance upon it as the touchstone of faith, which is the problem, Turner maintains. Furthermore, following Bernard McGinn, Turner points out that no one who is serious about the God quest, especially not the mys-tics (at least not until very recent times), attempts to "practice mys-ticism." People practice Christianity or Buddhism or Judaism.27 The mystical is a moment in the practice of these traditions, but there is no freestanding mysticism or pure apophatic practice. The development of this kind of experience-oriented, reli-giously decontextualized spirituality has been encouraged in recent years by a tendency in popular books on spirituality to talk of an apophatic and a cataphatic "way" as if there were two types of spirituality, one of which, the cataphatic, proceeds through the use of the theological symbols, images, rituals, and practices of a religious tradition and one of which, the apophatic, makes no use of these "externals" and reaches directly to the Divine Mystery that transcends all human institutions.28 Furthermore, there has been a tendency to suggest that these "ways" are a matter of per-sonal choice and so one might decide to bypass the cataphatic and plunge into the darkness of the apophatic way, where God would be met in pure spiritual nakedness. There has been much talk of foolproof methods by which to achieve mystical empti-ness and union, often without or before any serious ascetical train-ing, theological formation, or liturgical involvement. What Turner exposes is the basic fallacy of this whole "expe-rientialist" turn in spirituality. All spirituality, insofar as it can be practiced or pursued, is cataphatic, and all religious experience is by definition cataphatic. The apophatic is not a "way" or a "prac-tice," much less a kind of "experience." It is a moment of negativity, of nonexperience, at the heart of genuine, ordinary religious faith and practice. This moment is, by definition, not something one can experience at all. The apophatic or mystical is precisely the neg-ativity, the total darkness which cannot itself be seen or felt. It is Review for Religious the absence of experience, the "hole" at the heart of religious expe-rience, the place of the Holy Mystery Which is utterly beyond our experiencing, attainment, knowing, or naming. Mysticism is not negative (or positive) religious experience, says Turner, but the negativity of all religious experience.2Vlf I can experience it at all, it is not God in Godself that I am experiencing. If Turner is right, this attempt to bypass religious practice of the Christian tradition in search of some direct experience of the Holy Mystery is wrongheaded and futile, and it can end only in self-delusion of the kind pilloried by the author of The Cloud of Unknowing.3°Insofar as the apophatic moment occurs, it is abso-lutely nonexperienceable and hidden. And it occurs only within the cataphatic context of resolutely faithful Christian practice, which may at times overflow in the exaltation of spiritual peak experiences or generate the psychologically devastating suffering of the "dark night" described by John of the Cross. But, as all the mystics have maintained, such graces of light or darkness are neither the content nor the criterion of genuine spirituality. As Turner says, the deformations of the "experientialist" derive . . . from the error of understanding that which is a "moment" of reserve, of denial and unknowing within worship, prayer and sacrament as if it were a rival practice which displaces that Christian ordinariness. "Experientialism" in its most extreme forms is therefore the displacement of a sense of the negativity of all religious experience with the pursuit of some goal of achieving negative experiences.3~ In other words, a purely mystical spirituality is not a viable alternative to full participation in the religious tradition. The mystical, insofar as it is spiritually significant and transformative (as opposed to momentary experiences of oceanic bliss which may be caused by any number of stimuli from drugs to trance) is available only within some ongoing, ordinary, everyday cataphatic practice. The alternative to being imprisoned within the rigidities of an overmaterialized tradition is not the flight into a disembodied, decontextualized, and individualistic pseudomysticism. The deeply interior life of the serious postmodern Christian requires the shaping influence of a tradition worked out over centuries by saints and scholars, mystics and martyrs, even as the tradition itself requires the critical challenge of its postmodern adherents, whose new insights into reality must refine the tradition of its historical dross. 25 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadersbip and Spirituality Let us return now to the framework of meaning that has sup-plied us with the important principle of self-reference. If the focus of self-reference of religious congregations and their members is the gospel-based celibate living of the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ in community and mission within the spirit of the partic-ular congregation, and if the self-renewal and continued flour-ishing of religious life and the particular congregation depend on this self-reference, then nothing is more important than the authenticity of the spirituality of religious. Obviously, people can form and live community and altruis-tically serve others without being either Christian or Catholic. And a religious congregation can certainly transform itself into such a community of life and service, leaving behind its specifically Catholic identity and affirming whatever religious affiliation, or lack thereof, its individual members espouse. That is, it can cease to be a religious congregation and continue as an intentional com-munity with or without religious roots?2 My concern is with con-gregations which have not, or not yet, made that choice, but are struggling to maintain their Catholic Christian identity in a highly dysfunctional ecclesiastical context. For such communities the quiet sidelining of Christian identity believed and practiced in the church is not compatible with their ongoing life and self-renewal as a religious congregation. And perhaps the most impor-tant task of leadership in such congregations is helping the congregation to negotiate the moment of bifurcation between congregational death through the abandonment of that identity and congregational transformation through the critical reappro-priation of its Christian identity. There can be no question, in a postmodern context, of deal-ing with this issue by fiat. The present state of spirituality in many religious congregations is highly chaotic, and attempting to abol-ish chaos by control is, as we have seen, the kiss of death. Hope lies not in the exercise of coercive power, but in the realization that the current disequilibrium is potentially far more creative than the kind of static uniformity that prevailed in the spiritual-ity of most preconciliar communities. But how do leaders facilitate the emergence of new spiritual order from religious chaos? The analogies from the new science suggest several possible leads. First, a climate has to be created in which divergent theological views and spiritual practices can rise to visibility and articulation and be seriously and respectfully Review for Religious engaged. The unspoken agreement not to talk about anything that could cause dissension and not to use any ritual with which someone might be uncomfortable--and to substitute therapeutic methods and organizational techniques for theological engage-ment with controversies in the area of faith--is analogous to main-taining tight managerial control in a dysfunctional organization. The upheaval in spirituality at the individual and local level needs to be articulated, recognized, and owned. Within it lies the poten-tial, not for a restoration of preconciliar uniformity of doctrine and practice, but for a self-renewing reclaiming of the tradition in very new, perhaps even startlingly new, forms. Any Christian!ty that can be relevant and life-giving in a postmodern context is simply not going to look like, or be like, the Catholicism of the Middle Ages or even of the 1950s. Second, the basic framework of meaning needs to be reartic-ulated, but in ways that take seriously the problems which have led to its practical collapse. This basic framework is the gospel in all its depth and breadth, and that means the theological and litur-gical, moral and socially transformative riches of the Christian tradition in dialogue with the postmodern culture emerging in our time. The Christian tradition that has become alienating for so many is not the gospel itself, but the moribund formulations of post-Tridentine Vatican institutionalism. The extraordinary response of so many, especially women religious, to the work of theologians like Elizabeth Johnson and Catherine LaCugna, bib-lical scholars like Carolyn Osiek and Elisabeth Schiissler Fiorenza, liturgists like Mary Catherine Hilkert, ecumenists like Rosemary Radford Ruether, moral theologians like Lisa Sowle Cahill, and scholars of spirituality like Constance FitzGerald and Joann Wolski Conn--along with the rediscovery of the Christian mys-tics themselves--suggests that the tradition has the potential to be reappropriated and renewed in feminist, ecological, and pluralis-tic patterns if the meeting between the postmodern religious and contemporary theology can be facilitated. A system converts local chaos to global order by the infusion of new information which can be appropriated within a coherent frame of reference. Access to theological resources and also deep engagement with the new science, feminist thought and practice, and ecological and social theory by all the members of a congregation would seem to be an absolute requirement for the development of an authentic post-modern Catholic Christian spirituality that would be adequate Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirit~tality for religious life in the 21st century. If religious develop such a spirituality, we can expect resistance from the official exercisers of institutional control. But, if religious fail to develop such a spir-ituality, we can expect religious congregations to disintegrate from within as their spirituality unravels and becomes a tangle of idiosyncratic and individualistic syncretisms. Third, the interaction between the whole and the parts has to be facilitated so that what is emerging in the spirituality of the members appears in a corporate spirituality that breaks the ver-bal and ritual silence at the global level and also transforms the global frame of reference itself so that it is not a religious strait-jacket but a flexible focus of self-reference. In preconciliar days. most communities had a repertoire of symbols, myths, celebra-tions, and ceremonies which integrated the spirituality of the individual members with the spirituality of the congregation. How can we experience this local-to-global articulation today? The order at the global level, which is not dogmatic uniformity but deep unity in shared faith and spirituality, can be authentic only if it emerges from the lived variety and ferment at the local level, among the individuals and groups that make up the community. In recent years some congregations have begun processes of getting religiously sensitive issues out on the table and seeking ways to bring theological resources into dialogue with personal religious experience in the context of open sharing of faith. This is very risky business. But in many cases it has resulted in unusual experiences of renewal of the spirit of the community. Perhaps, having negotiated so many of the more "external" issues of lifestyle and even ministry, many religious are eager, even if fearful, to engage the deeper issues of faith, religious identity, and spiritu-ality. Congregational leadership may be challenged today to take the initiative in helping the congregation address the fundamen-tal issue of Catholic faith and spirituality, that is, the issue of identity and self-reference. Conclusion Let me briefly summarize and conclude. What leadership means and how it is exercised depends essentially on how one understands the social system one is leading. I have tried to sug-gest that the quasi-mechanical modern model of the religious congregation is giving way to an organic postmodern model of Review for Religious community. I have explored a few features of this new model, namely, the conception of the community itself as an autopoietic or self-renewing organic structure; the category of fields as a way of un.derstanding the unifying forces of charism, vocation, and the spirit of the congregation; and the strange attractor as a way of understanding the quintessential role of the gospel lived in consecrated celibacy in community and mission as the principle of self-reference of religious life. I then tried to suggest that the role of leadership today may be neither primarily social maintenance nor ministerial goal set-ting, but the facilitation of the congregation's self-renewing pro-cess through attention to its core identity, its framework of meaning. This framework of meaning is not a uniform religiosity nor a particular type of ministry. It is Christian paschal spiritual-ity, rooted in the gospel of Jesus Christ, lived celibately in com-munity and mission, a spirituality which cannot bypass the Christian theological, liturgical, moral, and socially transforma-tive tradition within the believing community we call church. But in a postmodern context such spirituality cannot be leg-islated or enforced. Nor are leaders, in all probability, any less caught up in doubt, alienation, and theological-religious confusion than the other members of their congregations. What we ask of our leaders today is not that they supply us with the correct answers, or even that they pi6neer the road to the future, but that they mediate the creative interchange between local and global levels, helping us to own the real questions and search honestly, together, for appropriate responses, and thus facilitate the life-giving interaction between the religious congregation and the real world in which we live and minister. When Peter, that first leader of the Christian community, asked Jesus for a clear fix on church order and ministry by inquiring what role his apparent rival, the Beloved Disciple, was to have, Jesus replied, "That's not your problem. What you need to do is follow me," that is, become a beloved disciple and thereby become capable of the ministry to which you are called. Perhaps for all of us, leaders and followers, it is both that simple and that difficult. Notes ~ On this issue of the i~nportance of worldview and the character of the emerging worldview with which I am concerned in this paper, see the very provocative thesis of Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self." Human Nature and Consciousv~ess Defined by the Januao,-FebruaO, 1998 Scbneiders ¯ Congregational Leadership and Spirituality New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990), esp. pp. 231-237. 2 For a comprehensible introduction to the notion of postmodernity in the context of Christian faith, see James B. Miller, "The Emerging Postmodern World," in Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World, ed. Frederic B. Burnham (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989), pp. 1-19, or Douglas C. Bowman, Beyond the Modern Mind: The Spiritual and Ethical Challenge of the Environmental Crisis (New York: Pilgrim Press, 1990). The SUNY Series in Constructive Postmodern Thought, edited by David Ray Griffin, and published in Albany, New York by the State University of New York Press, includes several volumes of essays repre-senting most of the preeminent writers attempting to relate Christianity and its concerns to the postmodern worldview. For a powerful presenta-tion of secular postmodernity, see Albert Borgmann, Crossing the Postmodern Divide (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992). 3 My primary resources in trying to understand this new approach to reality have been the following: Heinz Pagels, The Coswtic Code: Quantum Physics as the Language of Nature (New York: Bantam Books, 1983); David S. Toolan, "Praying in a Post-Einsteinian Universe," Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 437-470; Margaret J. Wheatley, Leadership and the New Science: Learning about Organization from an Orderly Universe (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1992); Margaret J. Wheatley and Myron Kellner-Rogers,/t Simpler Way (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1996); Danah Zohar in collaboration with I.N. Marshall, The Quantum Self: Human Nature and Consciousness Defined by the New Physics (New York: Quill/William Morrow, 1990). 4 Zohar, The Quantum Self, p. 234, speaks of the new worldview chal-lenging the modernist dualisms which split subject and object (mind and body), individual from relationships, and culture from nature. This is a slightly different focus on what I am talking about in more humanis-tic/ religious terms. 5 Specifically, Wheadey relies on the thought about living systems of Erich Jantsch, The Self-Organizing Universe (Oxford: Pergamon, 1980); the treatment of chemical reality of Ilya Prigogine and Isabelle Stengers, Order out of Chaos (New York: Bantam, 1984); the work of quantum physi-cists on strange attractors as explained by James Gleick in Chaos: Making a New Science (New York: Viking, 1987). 6 Cited in Wheatley, Leadership, p. 18. 7 Much of the following description of U.S. religious life from the 1800s until Vatican II is well illustrated in the volume, coauthored by a team of IHM sisters, Building Sisterhood: A Feminist History of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, ed. Margaret Susan Thompson (Syracuse: University Press, 1997). 8 It is interesting that sociological theory of organizations has .applied these Newtonian principles to social systems, leading theorists like Helen Rose E Ebaugh, in Women in the Vanishing Cloister: Organizational Decline in Catholic Religious Orders in the United States (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1993), to confidently predict the immi- Review for Religious nent demise of religious life, not because the spirituality of religious has died, but because the organizations seem to have lost their niche in the social, economic, and occupational machinery. If I understand Wheatley's thesis, she is convinced that the mechanistic understanding of organiza-tions that underlies much organizational and management theory is inap-propriate to the kind of entity such organizations are. I think Wheatley's thesis is applicable to religious life in general and religious congrega-tions in particular. 9Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 18-19. 10 Wheattey, Leadership, pp. 95-96, treats this feature. ~' When I hear religious wearily predicting the demise of their con-gregations as simply inevitable since decline in one or more areas seems to have set in and, in the long run, decline cannot be arrested or reversed, I am struck by the mechanistic character of their image of religious con-gregations. ,2 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 93. 13 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 90, italics mine. 14 Before reading Wheatley, who uses this very expression, "death or transformation," in relation to living organisms, I was looking at this same phenomenon in religious life in terms of the mystical tradition, the "bifurcation point" represented by the "dark night." See Sandra M. Schneiders, "Contemporary Religious Life: Death or Transformation?" Cross Currents 46 (Winter 1996-1997): 510-535. is Wheatley, Leadership, p. 94. 16 See Patricia Wittberg, Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (New York/Mahwah: Paulist, 1996), pp. 19-31, for her very enlighten-ing treatment of the sociological category of the "religious virtuoso" as a descriptive of religious. Peter Brown, in The Body and Society: Men, Women and Sexual Renunciation in Early Christianity (New York: Columbia University Press, 1988), p. 58, refers to the lst- and 2nd-century virgins, the original religious, as "virtuoso practitioners of continence." 17 In the earliest period of church life, the choice of lifelong virgin-ity created an alternative to the sociological givens of society in the 1st century of the Christian era. In the 3rd and 4th centuries, the desert ascetics moved geographically out of the overacculturated church of late antiquity. In the Middle Ages cenobitic monasticism was an institutional alternative to life in the cities. The "leaving the world" motif continued in the closed lifestyles of apostolic religious congregations right up to Vatican II. 18 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 48. 19 See esp. Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 52-54. 201 think this dynamic metaphor fnight have some potential for dis-cussions of the issues of belonging and membership. For example, if every individual is a distinct constellation of overlapping and intersecting fields (family, personal friends, professional associations, ministerial involve-ments, and so forth) which structure her personal identity and which 3I Janua~y-Febt'uaty 1998 . 32 Scbneiders * Congregational Leadership and Spirituality intersect with the fields of other members and the corporate constellation of fields of the congregation, we have to expect that ways of belonging and participating in community life are going to be very diverse and that this need not lead to disintegration. Likewise, there may be significant but not determining intersection between the field of some person and the congregational field,, leading to a considerable sense of"belonging" on the part of this person who, nev-ertheless, does not feel called to become a member in the full sense of the word. 2, Wheatley, Leadership, pp. 20-21. 22 The amount of chaos within religious life and the sometimes over-whelmingly dysfunctional character of the ecclesiastical settings in which the life survived and even thrived over the centuries is strikingly chron-icled by Jo Ann Kay McNamara in Sisters in Arms: Catholic Nuns through Two Millennia (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1996). 23 1 do not mean to suggest that leadership does not play a special role in maintenance and mission. In fact, I suspect leadership in these arenas is even more important today than it was in the recent past when eccle-siastical control dictated virtually all major decisions about mission and stable financial procedures and reliable resources assured maintenance. I want to suggest, however, that these functions, although facilitated by leadership, are largely handled by specialists or by congregational struc-tures that do not depend exclusively on leaders. 24 Wheatley, Leadership, p. 146: "More than any other science prin-ciple I've encountered, self-reference strikes me as the most important. ¯ . . As an operating principle, it decisively separates living organisms from machines." 2s Denys Turner, The Darkness of God: Negativity in Christian MystMsm (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995). 26 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 262. Turner says (p. 259): "Experientialism is. the 'positivism' of Christian spirituality. It abhors the experiential vacuum of the apophatic, rushing to fill it with the plenum of the psychologistic." 27 Turner, Darkness of God, pp. 260-261; he cites Bernard McGinn, The Presence of God: A History of VVestern Christian MystMsm, Vol. 1 (New York: Crossroad, 1992), p. xvi. Turner does not actually agree with McGinn about the role of experience in mysticism, but he does agree with him that, until the present century, tnysticism was not isolated from religious traditions but an element within the,n. 2s Mthough there is much of value in Diarmuid O'Murchu's latest book, Quantum Theology (New York: Crossroad, 1997), I have serious hesitations about his facile dismissal of .religion as a dispensable human invention (see esp. pp. 7-12). He is right to point out the distinction between spirituality, religion, and theology, but I doubt that the direct leap from spirituality to theology is possible because, while the categories of theology can be enriched by science, I doubt that they can be supplied Review for Religious without recourse to sacred texts and liturgical ritual. It is indeed part of the function of theology to purify religion of its excesses; but it is also part of the function of religious tradition to criticize theology. 29 Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3o See the caustic description in chaps. 52-53 of The Cloud of Unknowing (The Classics of \Vestern Spirituality), ed. James Walsh (New York/Ramsey/Toronto: Paulist Press, 1981), pp. 220-223. 3t Turner, Darkness of God, p. 259. 3: In speaking of religious congregations, I am using the term theo-logically and not canonically. I am talking about the faith reality that constitutes religious life, not juridical requirements ofany particular period in history. Tropical Night Watch (Cap Haitien, Haiti) The current is cut, the light fails, generators die, sleep prevails. Wakened by silence, I stagger onto the gallery, stumble over stars, so many stars the sky overflows, the Milky Way spilt and star running all down the dome. Does someone, I wonder, watch with me, or do I alone gorge on the glory? Two a.m. an ungodly hour?-- with this luxury of light? this starry sight? I gape, I gape, at this godly night. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ Januasy-February 1998 DONNA J. MARKHAM Leadership for the Common Good Only a few achieve the colossal task of holding together, without being torn asunder, the clarity of their vision along-side an ability to take their place in a materialistic world. They are the modern heroes . --Irene Claremont de Castillejo Knowing VVoman: A Feminine Psychology AnY person who is called upon to lead today is also called to the heroic act of unifying and healing in the midst of a world that is increasingly fragmented by nationalism and regional separatism. Nor are religious leaders unaffected: denom-inational sectarianism and ideological divisions threaten to take a mortal toll on the community of believers. At the same time, we live in an exciting era, alive in the midst of an enormous shifting in the collective experience of our planet. Insights from world religions, the new sciences, and feminist consciousness are con-tinually shaping our responses to the suffering oppressed. Religious leaders want to unify their members in order to meet the various challenges effectively, but the personal and communal risks are great. Women religious leaders find themselves engaging in heroic action as they contend with complex and differing perspectives on Christology and spirituality and on what constitutes the core Donna J. Markham OP is CEO for Southdown, a center for Christian healing that serves clergy and religious. Her article, published in Origins 27 (I 3 November 1997), is a slightly edited version of her address to the annual assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, held in Rochester, New York, in August 1997. Her address is Southdown; 1335 St. John's Sideroad East; RR #2, Aurora, Ontario; Canada L4G 3G8. Review for Relig4ous identity of religious life in this emerging global reality. Those who are entrusted for a time with the exciting task of fostering greater union and community are also expected to keep in front of our eyes the gospel-illuminated vision to which we have all committed ourselves. Irene Claremont de Castillejo rightly asserts that those who strive to accomplish such things are, indeed, mod-ern heroes. We actually have modern-day heroes--who have called us to common ground, who have invited us to envision a new way of being dwellers on earth, who have risked opening dif-ficult conversations and bringing forth serious critiques as new insights and truths are searched out. Within our midst are, I believe, unobtrusive modern heroines. The thoughts I share come from one who is clearly not a philosopher or a theologian, but rather a student of human behav-ior who has herself been stretched and challenged by a loving God. I share these thoughts as one who has experienced a call to profound conversion in the midst of the awesome responsibility of being entrusted with leading. I share these thoughts as one who, lost in deserts of confusion, has called out in fear; one who, with her sisters, has called upon a God of mystery, wisdom, and hope to show some clarity or meaning in daunting, sometimes terrifying, situations pregnant with disharmony and division. I hope to propose some specific skills for leaders to use in their efforts regarding the good we hold in common. Before doing that, however, I note two perspectives on the meaning of the com-mon good and offer a summation of our own experience of the past ten years. Perspectives on the Common Good There are two principal perspectives about how to achieve the good of society. The prevalent one, perhaps, is that the aggre-gate of individuals all pursuing their own self-interest constitutes the most good for the greatest number. This individualistic and utilitarian view--from John Locke, Adam Smith, and John Stuart Mill--emphasizes the common good as a composite of individual goods. It wants the civil authority to keep out of people's affairs except to ensure that no one tramples on another's rights. The second perspective, in the Thomistic tradition, emphasizes the common good as a social good that all must.participate in if the good of the whole is to be achieved (Hollenbach, 1989, pp. 85ff). January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Maritain elucidated this by speaking of a "personalistic commu-nitarianism" in which individuals achieve their own good more fully and readily when, in relationship with others, they work to enhance the common good. History has demonstrated, especially over the past two cen-turies, that two extremes of governance must be avoided: a lais-sez- faire individualistic philosophy that heralds each person in There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding personal spirituality and one's relationship with God. society as completely autonomous and indepen-dent, and a socialistic collectivism in which the individual sacrifices everything for the society, even to the loss of self-actualization. Within these polarities there exists a tension for each of us: to want each individual member in our community to be fulfilled and to flourish and to want our religious institutes to unleash their communal passion and energy in service of the mission of Jesus. After a long history of reflecting a more col-lectivist model, with the needs of individuals heavily subordinated to the needs of the larger community, religious life has, I think, swerved toward the Lockean-Smithian libertarian notion of the common good. Leadership itself has, at times, colluded in this--unconsciously, I think. We saw this reflected in some of our early documents after the call to renewal: the individual member was noted as our primary asset and first concern. While this concern was certainly not intended to subordinate the communal mission, experience has shown that this interrelationship has remained a serious issue for us, and we find ourselves seeking ways to lead well in the midst of escalating diversity of thought and belief. Experiences, Insights, and Questions What I say about the experience of leaders over this past decade is by no means exhaustive; I simply offer my own obser-vations: ¯ Women religious have a far stronger sense of internalized personal identity and individual maturity than previously. We also seek clarity concerning what constitutes corporate, com-munal identity .and what the requisites for membership are. Review for Religious ¯ We have witnessed a growing diversification of ministries, in which members are far more able to use their individual cre-ativity and talents in service of the gospel. ¯ We have deepened our sense of inner authority and self-direct-edness, yet we struggle with how this relates to any congre-gational ministerial focus and communal accountability. ¯ There is an increasing plurality of expression regarding per-sonal spirituality and one's relationship with God. ¯ There is a clear movement away from structures and systems that are oppressive and demeaning to women, and a deliber-ate movement toward systems that address the needs of the poor, the oppressed, and the abandoned. ¯ We have deepened our understanding of feminism in relation to our church and our world. ¯ We see an escalation of profound questioning, with conse-quences for our communal life as members of our institutes, not to mention our life as dwellers on this planet. ¯ As leaders we continue to experience the pervasive tension between our pastoral responsibility with its consequent care-giving obligations, and the possibilities of vision-driven, spirit-linking, heart-stirring leadership. ¯ We continue to examine models of leadership, modes of par-ticipation and decision making, and forms of governance that are faithful to our commitment as gospel-driven women. ¯ We live within the growing complexity of all the institutions and systems in which we minister. ¯ And we have witnessed the common good being held hostage, at times, by malaise and a depletion of communal passion. We have seen the common good compromised by leaders who have become overly preoccupied with the torment of a trou-bled individual and have diverted their attention from the broader work of leadership, with its potential to accomplish major transformations. We have witnessed the common good being co-opted by leaders who have become frightened and paralyzed in the face of an articulate few whose sociocultural precommitments distract them and others from gospel faith, the living water of religious life. At times we have also seen leaders--perhaps in misdirected efforts to affirm individu-als- fail to critique emergent societal, religious, and cultural movements as these impact on the common good of the con-gregation. 'L37 . 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good 3-8A So what is it that we have learned from what we have experi-enced? We have intensified our conviction that pluralism and diversity must work in tandem with a binding sense of identity and relationality. We know that interdependence is imperative for our survival as a planet, as nations, as a church, and as religious institutes. It is clear that all living systems are characterized by net-works of relationships. We are aware, more than ever, that all things are somehow connected and have an impact on one another for good or bad. Consequently, we know that various necessary and desirable boundaries need to be permeable enough for bond-ing with other communities and the global community to be pos-sible. We have learned, too, that neither hieratic leadership models nor totally consensual models are effective in this time of rampant change, greater complexity, and anxiety-provoking ambiguity, and we search for new ways to express leadership and exercise author-ity. We have learned that neither the subordination of individu-als to the needs of the community nor the subordination of the common good to the needs of individual members will make for a viable future. We have learned that new expressions of com-munity are being called for, whereby persons exercise true inter-dependence, participation, and responsibility about matters pertaining to the well-being of all those involved. We know that, if we are to do this, we need to develop skill in managing conflict and diversity. We have embraced even more deeply our need for ongoing contemplative reflection and conversation about mat-ters of the heart and soul. And we have learned with some trepi-dation that, insofar as profound doubt about the meaning and validity of our founding myths pervades our communities, we flirt with division and dissolution. Given all this, we are faced with serious questions. At what point does diversity within our institutes lead to entropy and orga-nizational dissolution? How will we work with our differences so that the result is synergy rather than division? How can we, with our members, become more intently engaged in the promotion of a personal communitarianism which recognizes that each per-son's dignity is most fully achieved in communion with others? What can we do as committed women of the gospel to help heal the gender and ideological rifts within our church, the racial and economic rifts in our country? What deliberate and concerted actions should we be taking as communities of faith to address Review for Religious materialistic individualism and the exploitation and mutilation of creation? How will we inspire others to that end? What signs will identify the better emergent models of leadership? In an effort to shed some light on these questions, I will focus on three areas of skill development: conflict management, guard-ing against "groupthink," and promoting communal efficacious action. By no means the only skills needed, these three call for some special attention today. Skills by themselves are, of course, not enough; but a leadership team's understanding of the princi-ples behind them can help keep the congregation moving for-ward while holding open the possibility of true synergy emerging. By synergy I mean the energy-laden, unexpected accord--or com-munion- within a group that gives it momentum toward the good which it esteems in common. Comfortable and Adept in Handling Conflict Perhaps more than any other skill, religious leaders today need the ability to manage conflict well. This prevents group-think from setting in and supports communal efficacious action. While we all know that some conflict is normal in any human relationship and an important part of the interaction in any vital group, much of what I say about managing conflict will seem counterintuitive. It flies in the face of our upbringing and our instinctive responses to confrontation. Most of us probably employ two basic responses to conflictual situations. Either we shy away from them, taking no action or procrastinating in the hope that the problem will go away, or we engage in symmetrical inter-change, being defensive or aggressive toward one another, prob-ably debating to a standoff. With the first strategy we quickly learn that the denial of the possibility of conflict is an easy way of becoming involved in one. With the second strategy we find our-selves caught in dualistic thinking that categorizes others as either with us or against us; we draw the proverbial line in the sand, and some become self-righteous winners and others demoralized losers. To use a third strategy, that is, to act counterintuitively, we anticipate and deliberately move toward that which is feared in efforts to establish connection. VCe meet conflict proactively or, in the wonderful words of William Shakespeare, we "meet the first beginnings; look to the budding mischief/before it has time to [-~9-- January-February 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to listen and learn from one another. ripen to ,naturity." We anticipate conflict and confrontation and approach the other with the clear, well-articulated intent to dia-logue. In so doing we open the possibility of engaging in a kind of ecological relationship building, a way of working through erroneous assumptions about and resistance to one another. We do not engage in debate, but rather in dialogue that has been pre-pared for with rigorous study, prayer, and reflection. Where debate aims at convincing and winning, dialogue is a commitment to lis-ten and learn from one another. Debate encour-ages dogmatic rigidity and judgment; dialogue encourages the search for insight and truth. If all parties have not prepared for the conversation by disciplined and intensive study, prayer, and reflec-tion, we are not ready to dialogue. Dialogue means that, while we are open to lis-tening and learning, we. also know that there are certain issues about which a group cannot com-promise. These include identity, internal consis-tency, and core values. A group ceases to exist as itself when these constitutive elements are com-promised. For example, leaders of religious congregations have a fundamental fiduciary obligation to promote the unity of the con-gregation. They canr~ot compromise those founding values and principles which have endured over ti,ne and which constitute the community's identity, charism, and mythic history. On the other hand, conversation and dialogue around the contentporary meaning of communal identity--no matter how divergent our understand-ings may bemis of critical importance and should not be shied away from in spurious hopes that differences will disappear. Still, to entertain that the fundamental identity of the group is open for negotiation is to promote disunity, disintegration, and ultimate demise. Membership in the group has become meaningless. A few examples: One can be a part of a group called "psy-chologists" and struggle with reformulations and new constructs relative to the study of personality and behavior. But to assert that the study of personality and behavior is no longer relevant to the discipline of psychology is to move oneself outside the iden-tity of being a psychologist. Similarly, Dominicans can struggle with how to enflesh the mandate of the order to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ in today's world, or how they will name and address contemporary heresies, but they cannot say that they will Review for Religious replace the gospel of Jesus Christ as a foundation for that preach-ing mission with some other construct. To do so would be to move outside the identity of being Dominican. Likewise, when an indi-vidual experiences a loss of identity, that person moves into a state of confusion and terror. In the most dramatic sense of this phe-nomenon, the psychotic person has little or no awareness of who she is, what she is to be doing, or what meaning there is to her very existence. This is why the therapist, as an agent of responsive and responsible authority, must take swift action to protect her from further disintegration and potential self-destruction. Good leaders take clear and directed action to protect the solidarity of the group, its commitment to unity in the face of challenges to its founding purpose, its identity and mission. They do so by calling the group to reflection, prayer, and respectful dialogue. They, with the group, walk toward what is feared and claim their truth in faith and in commitment to the greater good. Leaders in this era of connection (Lipman-Blumen, pp. 8-21) live in the midst of ongoing diversity. Accordingly, they also live in the midst of the conflicts which arise from this diversity of insight and thought. Successful handling of these conflicts demands certain assumptions: that all are committed to learn from one another and to search for truth together; that they agree to carry out the conversation to its conclusion; that they respect one another; and that no party will resort to oppressive or vindictive strategies during or after the conversation. Leaders who succeed possess an internal disposition of grace, flexibility, balance, empa-thy, courage, creativity, and a heavy dose of curiosity about the dif-ferent and unusual. But even these qualities are insufficient if leaders are frightened or unclear about or uncommitted to what constitutes the identity of the group which they have been called to serve. A time may come when evasion or avoidance--or a direct naming of the futility of carrying a discussion any further--may actually be a worthwhile move. The problem has often been that we have resorted to these moves before working proactively with the conflictual situation. Guarding against Groupthink One way, of course, of avoiding conflict within a close work group is for all to adopt patterns of thinking that are so "agree- Janttal.3,-FebtvtaD, 1998 Markham ¯ Leadership for the Common Good able" that disagreement becomes unthinkable: it would be "dis-loyalty." But "agreement," then, is an ambiguous thing. The greater the ambiguity, the more likely it is that a leadership group has fallen into the groupthink that some analysts describe. This dangerous dynamic arises when, in the face of adversity or perceived danger, a cohesive "ingroup" (here, the leadership team) insulates itself from conflict with the "outgroup" (here, the other members). It does this by concurrence seeking and unques-tioning agreeableness among the ingroup members. Groupthink interferes with leadership's ability to act on behalf of the com-mon good because it has closed off alternative courses of action. It falls into a tight-knit, closed system in which team members avoid deviating from consensus. The ingroup thus shares an illu-sion of unanimity concerning most of its judgments and posi-tions. In the worst scenario, certain members of the ingroup unwittingly assume the role of "mindguards" who protect the leader and other ingroup members from adverse information that might break their sense of well-being about their past decisions. Groupthink can result from a largely unconscious effort on the part of a leadership group to fortify itself, in ambiguous and con-flictual times, against perceived threats from the outgroup. It is characterized by the ingroup's feeling a certain invulnerability and having exaggerated optimism about the future. Negative feed-back has been dismissed by rationalizing, by stereotyping the behavior of members who disagree as invalid, irrelevant, erro-neous, disloyal, or uninformed. The search for truth has thus been compromised not only in the leadership group but also throughout the community, because sincere engagement between the ingroup and the outgroup has been aborted. W-hen diversity of thought has been stifled within a leadership group, stagnation, boredom, and a certain brittleness, set in. This situation comes from a misunderstanding of consensus, but it often masquerades as a nonhieratic, more feminist model of managing disagreement and arriving at decisions. Groupthink is serious and should not be underestimated. Group analysis has shown that the membership of any large group reflects the deficiencies of its leaders. V~rhen diversity of opinion, conflict, and serious dialogue find little or no room for expression in the leadership group, the membership will unconsciously mir-ror the leadership or react strongly to it, in either case jeopar-dizing the common good. Review for Religious In order to counter the unconscious pull toward groupthink, leadership teams may wish to set up safeguards. They could, for example, devise ways of getting critical evaluations of decisions and actions (including evaluations from outside the leadership team); they could, before coming to agreement, probe for alternatives; they could seek and happily come up with more than one way of addressing a given issue; they could broaden the decision-making base by consulting persons from different disciplines and areas of expertise; they could, after a period of time apart, hold a sec-ond- chance session to readdress the issue; they could simply ask whether there is "too much unanimity." Promoting Efficacious Communal Action Leadership teams that manage conflict well and avoid group-think instill in their communities the belief that it is indeed pos-sible for something important and significant to come from concerted communal action directed toward the greater good (Bandura, 1997). On the other hand, if a community has little sense that it is making a difference as a group, it will experience organizational anxiety, corporate depression, and a growing fear of the future and it will not attract new members. Leaders who work well with conflict and promote the unity of the group through a clear commitment to pursuing the truth together make a difference in this world of ours. Their fearless-ness and passion in repeatedly calling the group to fidelity to its mission have an impact. If all else is equal, a group that is more unified and clear about its identity and mission will endure beyond one that is fragmented. In other words, integration and unifica-tion contribute to life; disintegration and fragmentation, to demise. We know well that our desire to flourish is not an end in itself. Rather, we choose life as members of religious institutes because we are committed to radical discipleship. We commit ourselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a differ-ence-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the aban-doned in our world. We believe we can do this better because we are united as sisters, and so we invite others to walk with us. We do this not simply to bolster our sense of well-being, but because we believe desperately in the mission of Jesus to promote justice and right relationships among people, between people and their Januaty-Februa~y 1998 Markham ¯ Leadersh~ for the Common Good God, and among all the various peoples that dwell upon this planet. We know that this work is not finished. We invite others to join us in this connective mission of pursuing what is true, what is just, what is merciful, and what ultimately is the One who unites us all. Most of our congregations have identified issues which they see as critical to the common good of our society today. In meet-ing with communities across North America, I have noted a remarkable consensus on the critical issues calling for our response as women religious. Through chapter acts, vision statements, and communal goals, concerns about the environment, racism, the poor and oppressed, spirituality, and women's needs and oppor-tunities continue to surface. These concerns, besides inviting our deep compassion, recall us to our commitment to live the gospel as wholeheartedly as we can. I watched in awe as the NASA scientists shared the excite-ment of accomplishing something awesome. This team of women and men was jubilant that their Martian dreams, their hard work, their collaboration gave us earthlings a chance to see another world. They were passionate, and millions of us on the Internet shared their passion as we took in the unfolding events. Why, then--though our dreams and efforts on behalf of the oppressed and abandoned bring successes and are no less altruistic than those of NASA scientists--do we seem not to have such excitement and passion about our corporate accomplishments, either just among ourselves or in the eyes of others? I found myself pon-dering this question with a tinge of sadness as I watched the ongo-ing televised press briefings. We want to make a difference in our mission. We want to see something come of all our hard work. We want to know that we are participating in something that makes a tangible difference in our world. We long for excitement and passion regarding our work. When a group has a sense of nothing much coming from a colossal effort, it gets discouraged. Negative corporate conse-quences follow: heightened individualism, attrition of member-ship, loss of momentum, corporate sluggishness. While many of us individually experience satisfaction in know-ing that we are addressing those compelling needs identified through our chapter processes, I wonder if we are depriving our-selves of the possibility of magnanimous corporate accomplish-ment. I wonder if the aggregate of our individual good works has Review for Religious buried in oblivion our ability to do something passionately, and concretely, together. What might it mean for us if we were to spec-ify concretely what we will do together as a congregation--or per-haps all of our congregations in concert--by way of making a passionate and grand contribution to this Mother Earth of ours, especially the neediest causes on it? I realize that, as soon as we entertain thoughts of concerted and clearly defined com-munal endeavors, we may conjure up our worst memories of the past. The urgency of the needs of these times, however, demands that we let go of that history and allow the fire of a revived corporate passion to brighten our eyes and our vision as we look toward the future of the life and labor for which God called us together, and keeps calling us. We have dedication and commitment and a vision and a mission that are at least as broad and deep as the NASA team has. We are attuned to needs that make the Martian endeavor look small and childlike. Oppression and exploita-tion are no strangers to us. The exploitation of our planet, of the abandoned, of women and children, is daily being resisted by wonderful women religious all over this continent and beyond. But now is a time for us to come together, in ways we have never imagined, to make an even greater difference for the good of our world's people. We join with John Paul II in seeing ecological concern as a driving force in the communal mission to which we are called: The earth is ultimately a common heritage, the fruits of which are for the benefit of all . It is manifestly unjust that a privileged few should continue to accumulate excess goods, squandering available resources, while masses of people are living in conditions of misery at the very lowest level of sub-sistence. Today the dramatic threat of ecological breakdown is teaching us the extent to which greed and selfishness-- both individual and collective--are contrary to the order of creation, an order which is characterized by mutual interde-pendence . Simplicity., moderation, and discipline, as well as a spirit of sacrifice, must become part of everyday life, lest all suf-fer the negative consequences of the careless habits of a We commit OldYselves to a vowed life in community in order to make a difference-- for the poor, the oppressed, the vulnerable, and the abandoned in our world. Januao~Feb~wa~y 1998 Markham * Leadershi~for the Common Good few . An education in ecological responsibility is urgent; responsibility for oneself, for others, and for the earth . (John Paul II, 1990) Engaging in this efficacious action on behalf of the common good calls each of us to a deeper expression of our personal value and meaning and makes it available for the well-being of one another. To lead on behalf of the common good is as exciting as it is heroic. To stay centered on the ultimate vision of unity; to manage conflict in service of what is true, faithful, and just; to stand committed to the unfolding meaning of our identity in mis-sion-- these things are the substance of leaders who invite con-version and the linking of spirits and hearts at a time when not to do so is, all too probably, to toy with death. Steering Clear of Resistance Temptations to let oneself be drawn away from the demands of such a ministry of spirit-linking leadership abound. To allow oneself to be caught up in efforts directed toward problem persons and a minimal status quo is to entrench oneself and one's con-gregation in a futile defensiveness. Recognizing the difference between getting caught up in crisis management and working with the crisis in order to promote the common good is an art form that requires continual attention and development. In the process we must guard against a certain emotional and behavioral passivity that lulls us into a tolerance of diversity without restraint. Individual efforts and accomplishments should not crowd out the larger vision of a community's contemporary identity in mis-sion. When community leaders sideline or postpone or limit a unified group response to the crying needs of God's people and God's world, when leaders give too much attention to individual members (to their preferences, their convenience, even their per-sonal gratification) or fail to set limits on behaviors that stand in the way of the greater good, then something is wrong. Any group, of course, has maintenance tasks that need atten-tion. But how much time and energy should those entrusted with leadership today spend on those tasks? Honest self-evaluation of the use of team time is an important reality test for a leadership group. Such a group needs continual creative redesign so as to become or remain free to lead and not just manage. Beyond merely managing or even merely leading, I ask con- Rev&w for Religious gregational leaders to call one another and to call our communi-ties to heroism. Call us to risk entering into conflictual conver-sations that hold promise of connecting us in trust and in hope to one another. Lead us into the midst of difficult dialogues that will bring us into deeper and more respectful relationship with all who long for a church, a society, and a world in which communion in spirit and in truth prevails. Risk calling us to concrete corpo-rate ministerial responses. Invite us to be passionate. Help us to face together the different, the other, the frightening, and the unexpected so that we may discover ever more deeply that the good which we hold in common is nothing less than participa-tion in the compassionate goodness and mystery of God. Bibliography Bandura, A. "Human Agency: The Emperor Does Have Clothes." Canadian Psychological Association Convention, Keynote Address, June 1997. Bellah, R., et al. The Good Society. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991. Claremont de Castillejo, I. Knowing Woman:/t Feminine Psychology. Harper Colophon Books, 1974. Hollenbach, D. "The Common Good Revisited." Theological Studies 50, no. I (1989), pp. 70-94. Hollenbach, D. "The Catholic University and the Common Good." Current Issues in Higher Education 16, no. 1 (1995). John Paul II. "Peace with God the Creator, Peace with All of Creation." Papal statement, 1 January 1990. Lipman-Blumen, J. The Connective Edge: Leading in an Interdependent World. San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996. Rivers, E The Way of the Owk Succeeding with lntegv-i~y in a Conflicted World. HarperSanFrancisco, 1996. Roszak, T., M.E. Gomes, and A.D Kanner, eds. Ecopsychology: Restoring the Earth, Healing the Mind. San Francisco: Sierra Club Books, 1995. Tracy, D. Plurality and Ambiguity: Hermeneutics, Religion, Hope. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1987. Whyte, D. The Heart/1roused: Poetry and the Preset'ration of the Soul in Corporate America. New York: Doubleday Currency, 1994. Wren, J.T., ed. The Leader's Companion: Insights on Leadership through the Ages. New York: Free Press, 1995. Janttary-Feb~'uary 1998 thNv N E MUNLEY Hearts Afire: Leadership in the New Millennium I love you, God, with a penny ~natch of love that I strike when the big and bullying dark of need chases my startled sunset over the hills and in the walls of my house small terrors move.~ ~edeeSSica Powers's image, "a penny match of love," is a won-rful imag~e o.f human desire for God that yearns" to be stronger, that yearns to ignite hearts, capture imaginations, shape dreams, and awaken possibilities. There is nothing paltry about God's gifts. God longs to kindle our penny matches of love into a growing fire as we gather here, more than a thousand strong, representing ninety-four percent of the women religious of the United States. It is a precious gift to be alive and to be called to leadership as one millennium ends and another begins. The last decades of the 20th century have been a time of cataclysmic change. The coming of the third millennium is certain to prompt diverse mus-ings about the challenges of this moment in history. Some, lament-ing present evils, will forecast doom. Others will gloss over substantive issues of dignity and justice to focus on the bizarre. Still others, including ourselves, will view the millennium as a kairos time for renewing hearts and transforlning society. Anne Munley IHM presented this paper, here edited and somewhat short-ened, as the presidential address to the August 1997 national assembly, in Rochester, New York, of the Leadership Conference of V¢o~nen Religious. She may be addressed at the I.H.M. Center; 2300 Adams Avenue; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18509. Review for Religious The year 2000 presents the world with an extraordinary occa-sion to commemorate-the birth of Christ as an historical fact and as a saving event for humanity for all times. The new millennium is an invitation to renewed wonder at the lavishness of a God who so loved the world that Jesus, the Christ, took on human flesh that all might become alive in God. We are called to leadership in a time when humanity yearns for connection with God, with one another, and with all creation. Yet we are acutely aware that we live in a world of violence, envi-ronmental desecration, economic polarization, racism, poverty, systemic oppression, and cultural breakdown. Our senses are bur-dened with images of human suffering in the homes, streets, vil-lages, neighborhoods, suburbs, and cities of this nation and throughout the world. In this age of globalization, when the peo-ples of the world are linked together as never before by commu-nication, economic interdependence, and the diffusion of cultural values, gaps continue to grow between rich and poor. Most peo-ple would agree that beneath obvious contemporary problems lie a crisis of the spirit and an erosion of concern for the common good. There is little sense that all the peoples of the earth are brothers and sisters having a common destiny in one global fam-ily created by the God of infinite love and compassion, but such a sense is what is needed." Inside the walls of our house, "the bul-lying dark of need" aches to see flames of love and moral com-mitment, aches for a revolution of the human heart and a resurgence of spiritual leadership. There are many signs of hope for this moment: conscious-ness that there is a crisis, desire for practical life-giving solutions, hunger for meaning, purpose, and direction and a longing for connectedness. The biblical concept of jubilee offers a revolu-tionary vision of reform for these times. The call to jubilee rec-ognizes the sanctity of time, the sacredness of creation, the importance of rest and contemplation, the equality of all in the eyes of God, the need to attend to the common good and the jus-tice of right relationships. The biblical jubilee calls for forgiveness, reconciliation, and joy, not ju.st an inner joy but a jubilation that is expressed in communal celebration) In proclaiming a new covenant of unity among peoples, Jesus brought the jubilee promise to life. We lead in a time of soul-stretching possibility. It is a holy time for "bringing good news to the afflicted, liberty to captives, January-Februaly 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed." One of the greatest gifts that leaders can bring to this age is a sense of hope that transformation is possible. This gift is a penny match of love that can ignite great fires. Scientists tell us that tiny movements can have a huge cumulative impact on vast systems.4 Spiritual seekers discovered this truth long ago. In the words of Kukei, an 8th-century Zen master: "A hand moves, and the fire's whirling takes different shapes . All things change when we do."SMore than anything else these times need leaders who can bring to the outer world the transforming spirit of the inner world. Spiritual Leadership Recent literature about leadership reflects growing awareness that spirituality sustains community, meaning, and hope. The titles of many of these works suggest a shift toward conscious-ness of the inner life: Leading with Soul, The Corporate Mystic, The Heart .4roused, The Soul of Politics, and "Leading from Within.''6 The message of Leading ~vitb Soul is that leadership is a jour-ney of the heart. Heart, hope, faith, compassion, and courage are essential to leadership, to the creation of communities of mean-ing, and to a rediscovery of the ethical and spiritual center of society. Corporate mystics are spiritual leaders who are comfort-able with their own spirituality and who nurture the spiritual development of others. Corporate mystics call forth the best in themselves and others; they operate with integrity and intuition and pursue their visions with passion and compassion. In The Heart/1roused, the poet David Whyte links the inner world of spirit and creativity to the preservation of the soul in corporate America. Whyte knows well that leadership from within involves far more than techniques, plans, goals, or strategies. In his latest book of poetry, The House of Bdonging, he urges us to remember:7 What you can plan is too small for you to live. To be human is to become visible while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others. Re'view for Religious Jim Wallace in The Soul of Politics and Parker Palmer in his essay "Leading from Within" emphasize responsibility for co-creating the world we live in by bringing to it the best of our spiritual traditions and convictions. Our spiritual traditions tell us that we are not victims of the world as it is, but are its co-cre-ators. Borrowing from Annie Dillard,s Palmer says that, unless leaders are willing to take the spiritual journey inward and down-ward, we are likely to project what we hate in ourselves onto other people because we fear to face the enemy in our own souls. Great leaders have the courage to face their shadow side and consciously choose to project a spirit of light. Our own experiences on the inner journey and as women religious committed to co-creation of a just and loving world are a valuable part of our call to lead-ership within our communities. Gift of a Heart Afire At this national assembly of ours in outstate New York, I recall the determination and incredible belief in possibility of the hand-ful of women who organized in 1848 the Seneca Falls Convention that lit a fire to change the legal and political position of women in the United States. Using various means to secure suffrage for women, leaders like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Lucretia Mott, Susan B. Anthony, Lucy Stone, and Carrie Chapman Cart drew on their inner fire to breathe spirit and passion into their quest for reform. Women like Mice Paul, Lucy Burns, and Rose Winslow must have drawn deeply on their inner strength as they endured impris-onment, hunger strikes, and forced feedings. I recall also the countless women from all ethnic, class, and racial backgrounds who addressed severe social problems at the end of the last century and the early decades of this one. I recall the inner fire, faith, and vision that sustained the founding and pioneer members of our congregations, enabling them to over-come great obstacles. In the depths of their hearts they realized that, for those who love, the impossible becomes possible. I am conscious of the millions of people who daily confront abuses of human rights and work for change. I am conscious of all of the women religious throughout the world who, with listening hearts and eyes focused on today's fierce urgencies and spiritual hungers, continue to imagine alternate possibilities as they struggle toward the reality of God's reign in the immediate circumstances of daily January-February 1998 Munley . Hearts Afire life. I am conscious of the collective spiritual energy in this room and of the force that it is for the life of the world. Understood in its broadest sense, spirituality includes more than the inner life. It is, in the words of the theologian Anne Carr, "the whole of one's spiritual or religious experience, one's beliefs, convictions, and patterns of thought, one's emotions and behavior in respect to what is ultimate, or to God.''9 As women of faith and conviction, the greatest resource we can bring to the new millennium is the spiritual leadership of a heart afire. Spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good for all. When the heart is on fire, light comes from within. With the "eyes of the enlightened heart," we can see the hope to which we are called (Ep 1:18). By baptism and the mystery of vocation we have proclaimed publicly that the quest for God and the new creation is the fire of our lives. Our world longs for visible expressions of God's saving presence and for new ways of seeing that are graces of the inner experi-ence of God's love. In the Christian tradition seeing with the eyes of the heart occurs on the journey of discipleship. Discipleship is not an easy journey. It is an ongoing effort to live the gospel with integrity--trying, sometimes succeeding, often failing, recognizing the need of being forgiven and then trying again. It is a way of being in the world that affects every relationship. Disciples shape one another according to the action of the Spirit in their lives. The energy of the disciple flows from faith in what_is unseen yet believed. At its root, discipleship is a call to a love that never gives up on God, one's neighbor, or oneself. Disciples are called to love well., as Jesus did, with hope, truth, fidelity, and compassion. This leads inevitably to taking a stand with the Christ of the paschal mystery, who willingly laid down his life in love so that all may have life in abundance. In these times, spiritual leadership rooted in the gospel involves working for a transformed understanding of the good life as life that is profoundly good. for all. Such transformation will happen in our communities and in the world around us when Review for Religious precepts of compassion and justice inspire the collective soul and have an impact on behavior. All around us and among us there are compelling stories of discipleship. As leaders we need to see them with the eyes of the heart. In the sharing of the stories, heart touches heart and souls are filled with the spirit that makes ongoing commitment possible. Meaning-Making Spiritual leaders empower their communities for ongoing commitment by keeping questions of meaning before them: Why are we together in community? How are we called to the unique circumstances of these times? What is our commitment to one another and to those with whom we journey? In times of sub-stantive change there is an extraordinary need to explore ques-tions of meaning and purpose. In the midst of chaos, a coherent worldview and a dynamic understanding of the relevance of reli-gious life are helps toward interpreting the signs of the times and living discipleship with integrity. Leaders can make an enor-mous contribution to this process by helping the other members to make sense of shifting fealties both outside religious !ife and within it. At the deepest level, our congregations are held together by myths, values, beliefs, and foundational stories. These are the roots of the congregation's identity and purpose. They constitute the why of our being together as communities. They have their effect on the passion with which we live our mission. They influ-ence the way we use resources, the way we work together to press the mission forward. The shared meaning and work and mem-ory of our lives together provide symbols, relationships, and prin-ciples for making sense of the changes going on within us and around us. Shared meaning is essential for shared commitment. At a time of rapid social change and shifting demographics and resources, spiritual leadership is not about getting people to do something. It is about helping the group to keep before itself the kind of meaning that will guide choices and call forth com-mitment.~° Spiritual leadership is a group process rather than an individual's personal qualities or skills. It is interactive and rela-tional. When members of a community are closely involved in piecing shared meanings together as a basis for corporate action or direction, they experience significance together, discovery together, leadership together. Today, as many congregations grap- pie with issues of governance and restructuring, it is a key func-tion of leadership to foster meaning-making together. The more things change around us and within us, the more important it will be to create connections for exploring the pos-sibilities that change and newness offer. As Margaret Wheatley notes, "Life invites us to create not only the forms but even the process of discovery.''l~ The kind of effort that we put into mean-ing- making will affect the credibility of our way of life as well as our own sense of authenticity and integrity. Integrity and Justice In

Issue 57.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1998. ; f,o r r eltg ous Christian Heritages and Contempora~ Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER1998. VOLUME57. :NUMBER5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles .in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological _or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. 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Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wktberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents 454 feature Learning Communities: A Spirituality of Work for the Information Age Michael Skelley proposes that a spirituality which focuses on creating learning communities promises to be especially appropriate for work in the info~'mation age. He integrates theological concepts with ideas from organizational development research. 472 484 491 ignatian spirituality The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises John J. Begley SJ offers a contemporary understanding of Jesus' parables that inserts their use within the Ignatian Exercises and so facilitates a retreatant's entering into the experience of Jesus. St. Ignatius and My Piano Anita J. Baly reflects on how her experience of the Ignatian Exercises gave her insight about playing the piano and praying as complementary processes that call on remarkably similar skills. consecrated life The Experience of God in Consecrated Life during the 20th Century Joseph A. Tetlow SJ sums up the differences between the pre-Vatican II and Vatican II approaches to consecrated life in terms of the postmodern understanding of experience as constructed, derivative, intentional, and dialogic. Review for Religious 513 Gathering the Fragments: Associate Leaders Reflect on Their Experience Roberta Archibald SSJ, Joanne Bauer SBS, and Jean Ustasiewski OSF share the experience of a group of associate leaders who meet regularly in the Philadelphia area. 522 529 536 prayer Unceasing Prayer: Romancing the Divine Jerry D. Keeney develops the image of romancing the Divine for shaping our relationship with God. Prayer Joseph McCloskey SJ draws upon his experience as a pray-er to describe some necessary elements in a prayer life. Renewal of Prayer Mary Terese Donze ASC explores ways in which the word of God inspires and nourishes our prayer life beyond and above every book on prayer. departments 452 Prisms 541 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: Key Current Legislation 547 Book Reviews September-October 1998 That they may be one, as we are one. prisms Rpe John Paul II wrote the encyclical That They May Be One (Ut Unum Sint) in 1995. This document, dealing with our Christian commitment to ecumenism, took its title from the petition spoken by Jesus in his Last Supper discourse as remembered in the Gospel of St. John. Jesus prayed that all his followers would be blessed with the unity, the oneness which his Abba-Father and he enjoyed: "That all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you; I pray that they may be one in us" On 17:21). A most pervasive tendency among us is to make a divi-sion of any grouping into "them" and "us." It happens in families, between those "siblings or relatives who are "out" and those who are "in." It occurs in the way male and female differences have become "them" and "us" in the gender movements of our day. It is evident in the struggles caused by racial, ethnic, or religious distinctions. Witness our contemporary history of the United States, Bosnia, Sudan, and Rwanda. It is found in the church whether between hierarchy/clergy and laity or between liberal and conservative/traditionalist. Even an official church action like excommunication pronounced by local bishops or by Vatican congregations seems to divide off members into a "them" against an "us." Historically it has been true that religious congregations vied with each other within the church, for example, the competition between branches of 14th-century Franciscans and between 17th-century Dominicans and Jesuits--something in consecrated life, Review for Religious thank the Spirit, which seems less a problem in our time. It is writ large in the struggles in our economic world between east and west and between north and south--the "have's and the have-not's." The "them" and "us" (or, at its personal ultimate, "the world" and "me") mentality seems to be in the very air we breathe. What does this year dedicated in a special way to the Spirit call forth in us? Our desire could well be that the Spirit gift us with various prisms through which to view life and our relation-. ships with others in more accepting ways. We might pray that the Spirit become for us the pervading atmosphere in which we live and move and have our being. We need to stir ourselves to take the first few steps away from "political maps" that divide everything into a "them" and "us." We could decide to take action by our daily examination of conscience~ We begin our examen by thanking God for the small ways in which we have allowed the Spirit to unite ourselves with others in our thinking about them and in our acting towards them. We then examine ourselves and note the occasions when we have succeeded in avoiding a "them" and "us" attitude and the occasions when we have not. We, moved by the Spirit, beg God's forgiveness for the obtuseness of our minds and the hardness of our hearts in choosing and reinforcing the deadly worldview of division in our behaviors of this day. Finally we ask ever more fervently for the outpouring of the Spirit upon us to strengthen us in our mission. Empowered by the Spirit, we dedicate ourselves anew to struggle at eliminating the "them" and "us" mentality in our family, in our community, in our parish life, in our work life, and in whatever other areas it seems to pre-vail. The Spirit is the Love-Reality, the very communio, of God's life. The Spirit, we might ~ay, is the Love-touch of God's life in us, and so the Spirit's presence in our lives means our communion of life with our Trinitarian God. The Spirit's activity is God's cre-ating the communio among all of us here and now. Christ's prayer, then, becomes more insistently our prayer and moves us so to work to bring about a world that is at once more human and more divine--that all may be one. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 1998 feature MICHAEL SKELLEY Learning Communities: A Spirituality of Work for the Information Age Many spiritualities of work have been developed by the world's religious traditions. The differences between these spiritualities come not only-from their various theological presuppositions, but also from the various economic and social realities they address. As the nature of work has changed over the course of human history, so too have the religious interpretations of work. We have entered a new era in the history of work, the information age. The new realities of the workplace pose an immense challenge to workers and to the theologians, pastoral counselors, and ministers who want to help them develop a spirituality of work. How can we articulate, fos-ter, and practice a spirituality of work appropriate to the information age? We may not simply assume that a spir-ituality deduced from past theologies will fit our present situation. If the nature of work truly has changed, then a different kind of spirituality will be required.~Nor can we assume that theologians have the competence by them-selves to develop a new spirituality of work. This task requires ~hat we dialogue with a wide range of scholars who study contemporary work organizations. The potential number of partners and possible agen-das for such a dialogue is immense, and we cannot engage Michael Skelley is a full-time faculty member and the director of the undergraduate program at DePaul University's School for New Learning. His research and publications have focused on spirituality, worship, work, and learning. His address is DePaul University; 243 S. Wabash, #700; Chicago, Illinois 60660. Re~iew for Religious them all. Nor will we survey the historical development of the theology of work; that has been done quite well elsewhere.~ We will integrate some insights from this tradition with a few ideas from scholars of information-age work. The growing consensus in the latter field is that the primary challenges and opportunities of the information-age workplace revolve around learning. In the Christian tradition, coincidentally, learning has long been seen as a path to holiness. This paper, therefore, will explore how a spirituality focused on transforming our workplaces into learn-ing communities might be an apt spirituality of work for the infor-mation age. The Spirituality of Work Throughout the Judeo-Christian tradition, work has been seen as both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, we some-times experience work as an opportunity to display our talents, develop our gifts, contribute to the common good, and exercise our creativity. When work is like that, it is joyful, engaging, and fulfilling. Such work experiences return intrinsic rewards that far outweigh their extrinsic compensations: they satisfy some of our deepest needs and highest aspirations. But, on the other hand, we also experience work as overwhelmed by impossible demands, torn by interpersonal conflicts, dehumanized by trivial proce-dures, and oppressed by unjust practices. Such work causes frus-tration, anger, and despair. Whatever compensation we receive, then, cannot repair the damage done to our spirits and bodies. When our work is like this, it poisons us and our family, friends, and communities. Work brings out the best and the worst in us. We need a spirituality of work precisely because work is so ambivalent. As our spiritual predecessors did in their own cir-cumstances, we search for ways of working which might help us taste more of work's blessings and fewer of its curses. We search, in other words, for ways to transform our ambivalent experiences of work into a consistent experience of God. Our positive expe-riences inspire us to believe in the goodness of work. Can we, then, find ways of working which regularly evoke the best in us and our work? Our negative experiences test our character and challenge us to change. Can-wE find ways of working which will liberate us from the destructive aspects of our work and our work-places? This transformation is the task of a spirituality of work. September- October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities A spirituality of work is a way of working that helps cowork-ers to achieve together our fullest development as human beings. Three points are important about this definition. Thefirst is that a spirituality of work is a way of working, not a way of promot-ing religious ideas and practices. Work can be integrated into spirituality without being interpreted in explicitly religious ways. We need to challenge that ancient legacy of dualist thinking which still conditions most people to assume that secular activities can-not, by definition, be sacred. That is why P~re Marie-Dominique Chenu, a pioneer, in the modern effort to develop theologies of work, said that the question of the relationship between nature and grace is fundamental to the spirituality of work.2 When people see grace and nature as separate and opposed realities, they think that the task of a spirituality of work is to make work explicitly religious. Spirituality then becomes the intrusion of something foreign into the work. Unfortunately, most of what is touted today as spirituality of work suffers from vari-ous degrees of this dualistic thinking. Such spiritualities impose religious ideas, language, and practices on work. The vigorous resistance that many working people have to these intrusions is justified, not simply because these spiritualities discourage humane work, but also because they encourage questionable theology. But when grace and nature are seen as inseparable, the task of a spirituality of work is to enhance something that is already pres-ent in the work. Spirituality then becomes a matter of making explicit what is already implicit. If, as Karl Rahner said;, our world is permeated with the divine self-communication, we can experi-ence God and achieve our fullest human potential even in the most ordinary kinds of work.3 Work becomes spiritual, not by becoming religious, but by becoming more truly work, by being true to the spiritual dimensions already part of its character. This does not diminish the important and proper place of religion; rather, it points to religion's roots in daily life. Such a spiritual-ity of work is concerned with fostering human development in ways which are appropriate to the workplace. It supports the potential we already know work possesses to engage our gifts and contribute to the common good. ~ Second, the definition above implies that a way of working is a form 6f spirituality to the extent that it supports our complete human development. Holiness is a matter of wholeness, and so whatever fosters our holistic human development leads us toward Review for Religious spiritual maturity as well.4 Or, as Irenaeus taught, God is glorified when human beings are fully alive. The major religious and spir-itual traditions of the world have proven successful at furthering the kind of human development we seek. They provide us with a wealth of complementary images of the breadth and depth of our potential as human beings. Obviously, each of these traditions has been guilty at times of fostering narrow-minded notions of virtue that highlight only some aspects of what we are capable of becoming. But, when they are seen together, it is clear that they share some fundamental values, attitudes, and standards that lead people toward fulfilling their human poten-tial and help them understand this effort,s The task of a spirituality of work is to root our ways of working in these basic understandings of holistic human development. This second point does not con-tradict the first one, namely, that the spirituality of work is a way of work-ing and not a way of promoting religious ideas. To say that a spir-ituality of work needs to be rooted in the values of the world's religious traditions is simply to propose that we need to be reflec-tive about the assumptions we bring to our work. The ways we work necessarily presuppose certain ideas, frequently muddled and usually unarticulated, about the values that guide our lives. The question is not whether we want to have a spirituality of work or not; everyone already has some sort of spirituality of work, although we are rarely conscious of this fact. Nor is the point to advocate the values of one particular religious tradition, no matter how emi-nent they may be. To do so would be to presume a consensus in the workplace about religion that is unlikely to exist. The goal is to be reflective about our fundamental values and to ensure that they support not only efficient and effective work, but fully humane work as well. We can do so by rooting our work in the most uni-versal possible expressions of basic human values. The third point we need to notice about the definition above is that a spirituality of work is about achieving our full human development together, in common, not just individually. It is a Work becomes spiritual, not by becoming religious, but by becoming more truly work, by being true to the spiritual dimensions already part of its character. Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities way of working together with our coworkers for the transforma-tion of our work and our workplaces so that all of us can develop our full human potential. In other words, we need to challenge another kind of dualism, that between our private, individual selves and our public, communal selves. Popular spiritualities today typically identify the spiritual with an individual's interior experience. People seldom connect work with spirituality, for it is associated with the public and exterior dimensions of our lives.6 Popular attempts .to develop a spirituality of work typically assume that their task is to enhance our individual, interior development. They rarely reflect on how the spirituality of work could and should be something that all workers share. This dualistic think-ing does a disservice both to work and to spirituality. It ultimately reinforces the kind of depersonalized, mechanistic approach to work associated with Frederick Taylor, the inadequacies of which are now widely recognized.7 And it misses the critical insight of liberation and feminist theologies that transformation of the social, political, and communal dimensions of our lives is an essential part of spiritual development. Work in the Information Age: Organizational Learning After this review of the task faced by a spirituality Of work, we now need to explore how the information age has changed the nature of the work we do. This will prepare us to think about how a spirituality of work needs to be different today. At the beginning of this century, most workers in the United States were either farmers or domestic servants. By 1950 the com-position of the workforce had completely changed, and most workers were engaged in some form of industrial labor.8 The the-ologies and spiritualities of work that have appeared in the last fifty years focus on the issues of that industrial age, not recognizing how work has changed.9 At the end of the 20th century, it is clear that we have entered an entirely new age in the history of work. We live in a postindustrial society of "knowledge work," the infor-mation age. A significant but steadily shrinking number of work-ers are still employed in the industrial sector, and many others work in service jobs, but the largest portion of the workforce now consists of knowledge workers. By the year 2000, only ten percent of the workforce in the United States and other postindustrial countries will be directly involved in making things.19 Review for Religious While our parents and grandparents usually worked with their hands, moving and making things, most of us work with our heads. The work we do involves knowing, thinking, and learning. Our jobs do not simply require more educational preparation than the work of previous generations did. They require us to do some-thing fundamentally different: to create, interpret, organize, apply, transfer, and manage knowledge. Knowledge work radically changes the nature of a market economy and redefines the rela-tionship between workers and the means of production. This is a new kind of economy and a new kind of work.1~ As Peter Drucker has said, "The social center of gravity has shifted to the knowledge worker. M1 developed countries are becoming postbusiness, knowledge societies. Access to good jobs and career opportunities in developed countries increasingly requires a university diploma. Looked at one way, this is the !ogical result of a long evolution in which we moved from working by the sweat of our brow and by muscle to industrial work and finally to knowledge work. But the development also represents a sharp break with the past."12 Knowledge work requires new abilities to continually learn from and think with one's coworkers. In the past, tasks that required thinking could typically be carried out by individuals using general knowledge. Much of today's knowledge work, in contrast, is too complex for any generalist to accomplish alone. It requires the coordinated efforts of a variety of specialists. People must be able to share their expertise with one another for the work to get done. The primary agent of knowledge work, there-fore, is an organization, not an individual. This fact need not diminish the importance or dignity of the individual worker. It is a consequence of the highly specialized expertise that individ-ual knowledge workers have. Together they are able to create some-thing that none of them could create alone: Knowledge work is a multifaceted task that requires the collaboration of a variety of experts and specialists. It must be done by an organization con-centrated on a particular task. Effective organization, then, is a necessary condition for knowledge work.13 Consequently, as knowledge workers we must work not just for an organization, but at it. That is to say, we must work con-tinually at growing with our colleagues into a community that can do real knowledge work. The organization is not just where we work; it is an essential outcome of our work itself. The task of cre-ating an effective organization where knowledge work is possible Septe~tber- October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities is an inescapable part of each knowledge worker's creative efforts. The nature of knowledge work requires us to deal continually with organizational change, development, and transformation. The academic or professional discipline which concentrates on organizational change is commonly called organization develop-ment. L4.Organization development systematically applies behav-ioral science knowledge to the planned development of organizational strategies, structures, and processes in order to improve an organization's effectiveness.~s Organization develop-ment is practiced in many different ways. Most recent approaches, however, emphasize increasing the organization's capacity to learn.~6 For example, Peter Senge, director of the Center for Organizational Learning at MIT's Sloan School of Management, focuses on creating learning organizations, "organizations where people continually expand their capacity to create the results they truly desire, where new and expansive patterns of thinking are nurtured, where collective aspiration is set free, and where peo-ple are continually learning how to learn together."~7 Organizational change experts focus their efforts on organi-zational learning for many reasons. They hope that learning will simultaneously foster the development of the people in the orga-nization and provide superior economic performance. They see it as an extension of the movement to improve the quality of prod-ucts and services. They see it as a way of managing the increas-ingly rapid pace of social and technological change.~8 But, most basically, they recognize that there cannot be any consistent change for the better in work organizations unless these organi-zations are able to learn. All planned change presumes learning, and so leading change is a matter of facilitating learning. Argyris and Sch6n speak of this "learning imperative": "Now in the mid-1990s, it is conventional wisdom that business firms, governments, nongovernmental organizations, schools, health-care systems, regions, even whole nations and supranational insti-tutions need to adapt to changing environments, draw lessons from past successes and failures, detect and correct the errors of the past, anticipate and respond to impending threats, conduct experiments, engage in continuing innovation, build and realize images of a desirable future. There is a virtual consensus that we are all subject to a 'learning imperative,' and in the academic as well as the practical world, organizational learning has become an idea in good currency.'''9 Review for Religious But it is not proving easy to transform our work organiza-tions into learning communities. Organization-development spe-cialists agree that our work organizations have handicaps that prevent them from learning effectively. Senge thinks that funda-mental difficulties most organizations have in becoming learning communities can be traced in part to traditional Christian spiri-tualityd° He says that our work organizations have been rendered dysfunctional by three problems: reactiveness, fragmentation, and competition. These problems reflect deeper cultural problems that are due in large part to a tradition of dualistic thinking in Western society. From his reading of Thomas Merton, Joseph Campbell, Raine Eisler, and Elaine Pagels, Senge thinks that Christianity insti-tutionalized this dualistic thinking. Obviously, Senge's critique of Christianity would need to be more carefully nuanced and solidly supported, but in its broad outlines it is consistent with the critiques made by lib-eration, feminist, and ecological theologians.21 The problem is not spirituality per se,. but the consequences of dualistic, hierarchical, and patriarchal spiritual-ities. Dorothee Soelle, for example, says: "The tendency to isolate Christian faith from the social order has meant, among other things, that mainstream theology has failed to address work in the context of creation and redemption. It has ignored the worlds of pain created by the structural organization of our work. It has unconsciously or often even cynically obscured our creation as workers in the image of 'the great artist.' Christianity has a long record of complicity in bad, meaningless, or harmful work. This is the result not just of insufficient ethical reflection, but also of the inability to perceive Christ's work in returning the world to its people. Resurrection from sin's power happens in good work. We still wait for good work. Through good work we are revealed, in our creative empowerment, as children of God.''22 Senge is one of many organizational-change experts who see a pressing need for a new, holistic spirituality of information-age work.23 Senge's comments about spirituality and organizational change are particularly striking both because of the wide accep-tance his approach to organizational change has gained and because of the scholarly foundation that supports his work. The "Christianity has a long record of complicity in bad, meaningless, or harmful work." September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities fact that Senge and his colleagues stress spirituality so strongly, albeit clumsily, indicates that this area is being given more and more serious consideration by professionals in the field of orga-nization development. It is clear, therefore, that the only certainty amidst the turmoil in our workplaces today is that we must learn how to learn. A host of inexorable forces such as the explosion of information, the shrinking of the global marketplace, the reordering of social priorities, and the emergence of new technologies is reshaping every sector of the working world. Both the environment and our work requirements are changing, and changing more and more rapidly. In times of such pervasive change, neither individual workers nor work organizations are likely to be effective unless they can learn easily, quickly, and well. An important part of all knowledge work today is the transformation of our work organi-zations into learning communities. The Spirituality of Learning Learning is not only a critical issue for the information age; it is also a fruitful theme for spirituality. Learning has often been seen by the spiritual and religious traditions of the world as a path to holiness. Jean Leclercq's classic work on medieval monas-ticism, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God, beautifully cap-tures one manifestation of this intimate relationship between learning and spirituality.24 We do not have space here to sample all the rich and varied ways theologians have interpreted the role of learning in spirituality. We will focus instead on just one the-ologian who has had a widespread effect on contemporary Christian theology, Karl Rahner. Epistemological concerns are at the foundation of Rahner's understanding of Christianity, and in that sense his theology is a theology of learning. His insights can readily be translated into a spirituality of learning which deep-ens the way we see the purpose, process, and products of learning. First, Rahner changes the way we see the process of learning by showing us that learning always involves self-transcendence.2s For Rahner, learning is an activity which is necessarily rooted in our nonconceptual awareness of God. We can know finite things only because we can transcend them and experience God. Learning is possible for us because we are embodied spirits (Geist-irn- Welt) capable of self-transcendence. We are able to learn about Reviezv for Religious our material, temporal world precisely because we can reach beyond it and open ourselves to the infinite horizon of absolute mystery. This preapprehension (Vorgriff) of God is the condition for the possibility of any and every act of learning. Every time we learn anything, we experience our transcendental openness to God. When we explore the spirituality of learning, we are not introducing a transcendent element to the learning process, but rather affirming one that is already there. This means that we can never entirely understand, much less hope to control, the process of learning. We generally think of learning as a skill that we can direct and develop, and it is. Most of us expend energy throughout our lifetimes not only learning but learning how to learn. As teachers, parents, colleagues, or friends, we are also regularly called upon to direct the learning of others. We even assume that some people are such proficient learners that they will inevitably be master teachers. But the fact that our ability to learn depends upon our transcendental open-ness to the horizon of absolute mystery means that the learning process transcends our control. All learning requires that we sur-render ourselves to our capacity for self-transcendence. And, if we want to help others learn, we have to support their self-tran-scendence. We will generate very little new learning if we restrict or manipulate the learning process. Ultimately, learning is not a skill to be mastered but a mystery to be loved. Practicing a spir-ituality of learning, then, means creating space for the experience of self-transcendence to happen. Second, Rahner's theology of freedom changes the way we see the products of learning by showing that learning always involves our free self-creation.26 Learning is an expression of the capacity we have as embodied spirits to act freely. The prod-ucts of our free acts are not simply choices between particular goods. Freedom is also a process through which we create our-selves. Whenever we exercise our freedom, we not only make a choice about a particular good; we also make a choice about our-selves. The decisions we make determine who we are as persons in relationship to God and the world. Some of our free acts so totally engage us that they constitute fiandamental choices about who we are. Other acts engage us less completely and serve to confirm or,deny the fundamental selves we have chosen to become. But every exercise of our freedom in some way is an act of self-creation. Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities Since we exercise our freedom whenever we learn, every act of learning is an act of self-creation. We usually assume that the products of learning are new ways of thinking and acting. But, for Rahner, our own self-creation is also a product of every act of learning. Whenever we learn, we not only learn about something particular; we also help determine who we will become as per-sons. Learning is not just a process through which we adopt new behaviors or ideas; it is a process of creating ourselves. Each choice we make about what, why, or how we will learn contributes in some way to our self-realization. The criteria by which we assess the products .of our learning, therefore, need to include the question of whether we are becoming more fully human, Measured by this criterion, learning which does not support holis-tic human development is fundamentally flawed. People who resist learning risk dehumanizing themselves just as much as those who resist loving. This is not to say that our value as persons is depen-dent upon how bright we are. Learning can no more be reduced to intelligence than love can be reduced to emotion. But learning and loving are critical to our self-realization because both are ways we fulfill our human potential for relationship with the world and the mystery of God. Practicing a spirituality of learning, therefore, means honoring this process of self-creati0n. Third, Rahner's theology of grace changes the way we see the purpose of learning.27 For Rahner, our transcendental orientation to the holy mystery has been universally graced by God's self-communication. Grace is not a gift from God but the gift of God, In our "natural" experience of transcendence, the absolute.mystery of God is present to us as the horizon which we can only approach asymptotically. We believe, however, that God has not remained the distant horizon of human transcendence, but has graciously drawn near to us as free and forgiving love. We never experience our transcendence, therefore, as purely natural and ungraced. The transcendence we actually experience has been radically trans-formed by God's self-gift, which is always present at least as an invitation made to our freedom. Grace is the fulfillment of our deepest human potential as embodied spirits to be filled with the infinite God. Grace makes possible for us the immediate experi-ence of God, which is always mediated by our historicity and mate-riality. But God becomes closer, not less of a mystery, in the experience of grace. Grace is the self-communication of God as the absolute mystery who remains absolute mystery. Review for Religious This theology of grace implies, then, that the ultimate purpose of learning is not to know more, but to be known more.28 When we learn, we do not simply gather new information or master additional skills; rather, we open ourselves to the self-communi-cation of God. The deepest purpose of learning is that it leads us to the point where we surrender to God's knowing of us. Learning is a privileged opportunity to enter more deeply into the abyss of the absolute mystery of God. Learning is at its best not simply when it is rooted in good principles of pedagogy or andragogy, but when it is a form of mystagogy. The process of learning, then, develops our potential to be mystics. Rahner believed that everyone is called to be a mystic.29 Mysticism is not primarily about paranormal experiences, but about attending to hidden experiences of the mystery of God in daily life. It is difficult to be a mystic, not because God is so distant, but because. God is so present. The challenge isto find ways to notice the gracious presence of God in the midst of everything in our lives, This is easier to do in some expe-riences than others. Oddly enough, our experiences of the goodness and beauty of life are not necessarily the best places to look for God. Rahner believed that we perceive the presence of God most clearly in those events in which we struggle with our limitations. Our experiences of lim-itation bring us right to the threshold of the presence of God. To the extent that we can attend to how we transcend the limita-tions we face, we open ourselves to the mystery of God. The pro-cess of learning offers abundant opportunities to struggle with limitations and experience God. Whenever we really attempt to learn, we strain to see beyond the limits of what we currently know. If we have the courage to face the limits of what we know, therefore, we invite God to enter more deeply into our lives. Rahner shows us that the process, products, and purpose of learning have spiritual depths that we normally overlook. Learning is not a neutral process of inquiry that only takes on a spiritual character when we choose to focus it on religious phenomena. Learning is intrinsically spiritual and is one of the most impor-tant ways we have to experience God. It is not surprising that tell- Learning can no more be reduced to intelligence than love can be reduced to emotion. September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities gious traditions throughout the world have revered learning as a path to holiness. Whatever enhances our capacity to learn fosters our spiritual, development, whether we recognize it as such or not. Disciplines for Creating Learning Communities As the 20th century draws to a close, we are beginning to glimpse how our lives will be different in the information age. But, because this new age of work is only now coming into focus, it is impossible to see yet what all of its spiritual opportunities and challenges will be. Nonetheless, we can be certain that learn-ing will become increasingly important to the work we do. The growing significance of learning makes a new way of integrating spirituality and work possible. The most effective spirituality of work for the information age will be one based on helping us transform our workplaces into learning communities. We defined the spirituality.of work above as a way of work-ing which fosters the transformation of our work and our work-places so that together with our coworkers we may achieve our fullest development as human beings. This means that a spiritu-ality of work should be a way of working, not a way of practicing religi6us activities or enjoying esoteric experiences. It should sup-port our complete human development. And it should foster the transformation of our work communities, not just our growth as individuals. A spirituality of work which is based on creating :learn-ing communities meets these three criteria. First, since it focuses on learning, such a spirituality advocates a way of working which is not explicitly religious, and which is appropriate, even vital, to the information-age workplace. Second, since the learning process engages the fundamental basis of our human identity, our capac-ity for self-transcendence, the process of learning is a particu-larly powerful way of supporting holistic human development. Third, such a spirituality of work draws us beyond caring for our individual growth into building learning communities with one another. But, if it is to help us engage in the difficult process of con-version and growth,, this spirituality of work needs to be incarnated in particular disciplines. The major spiritualities of the West have generally encouraged disciplines such as meditation, prayer, fast-ing, reading, and service as concrete means of achieving spiritual growth. There is no qu~sti6n that such disciplines will continue Review for Religious to have an important role in a fully developed spiritual life. But, since the spirituality of work attempts to engage us in a different and more specific kind of transformation than that of traditional spiritualities, it will need to encourage some additional, new dis-ciplines. The disciplines for a spirituality of work in the infor-mation age will be the disciplines for developing organizational learning. Organizational-learning researchers have over the past fifty years advanced our understanding of what those disciplines are. Peter Senge, for example, has organized them into five sets: per-sonal mastery, shared vision, mental models, team learning, and systems thinking. Each of these disci-plines has to do with helping us develop the skills to learn effectively as individ-uals and groups. There are three distinct levels to these disciplines: practices, principles, and essences. The practices are the specific activities which con-cretely express the discipline. They are the primary focus for those beginning to follow the discipline. The underlying principles are the theoretical bases for the practice of the disciplines. Progressing in the disciplines requires following the practices and understand-ing the principles. The essences are the state of being which comes to be experienced by individuals or groups that have mastered the discipline. At this level Senge's learning disciplines are united by a common sensibility: that we are learners in an intrinsically interdependent world.3° Personal mastery is the discipline of continually clarifying and deepening our personal vision, of focusing our energies, of developing patience, and of seeing reality objectively. It involves learning to expand our personal capacity to create the results we most desire and to create an organizational environment that encourages all its members to develop themselves toward the goals and purposes they choose. The practices of this discipline include various techniques for clarifying our personal vision and for holding a creative tension between the results we desire and our grasp of current reality. Senge sees the discipline of personal mastery as the spiritual foundation for a learning organization. The disciplines for a spirituality of work in the information age will be the disciplines for developing organizational learning. September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities The discipline of shared vision is the collective version of the discipline of personal mastery. The discipline of shared vision builds a sense of commitment in the groups we work with by developing shared .images of the future we seek to create and the principles and guiding practices by which we hope to get there. The practices of this discipline involve techniques for helping groups both acknowledge their current realities and develop a shared picture of their future that fosters sincere commitment. This discipline assumes that, when there is genuine shared vision, people excel and learn because they want to, not because they are told to. Like the discipline of personal mastery, the discipline of men-tal models is an individually oriented dis.cipline. Senge sees men~ tal models as the deeply ingrained assumptions and generalizations that influence how we understand the world and take action. The discipline of mental models helps us reflect upon, clarify, and improve these internal pictures of the world and see how they shape our actions and decisions. The practice of this discipline also helps us learn how to carry on "learningful" conversations that get us to expose our own thinking effectively and make that thinking open to the influence of others. The discipline of team learning is the collective counterpart of the discipline of mental models. This discipline transforms conversational and collective thinking skills so that a team of coworkers increases its collective intelligence and its ability to take coordinated action. The heart of this discipline is the theory and practice of dialogue. Dialogue challenges team members to suspend assumptions and enter into genuine thinking together. Team learning also involves recognizing the patterns of interac-tion in teams that undermine learning. The most critical learning discipline for Senge is the disci-pline of systems thinking. He sees it as the discipline that inte-grates the other disciplines into a coherent body of theory and practice. Systems thinking is a way of thinking about and a lan-guage for describing ~he forces and interrelationships that shape the behavior of systems. It makes the full patterns of a system clearer and helps us see how to change them effectively. Systems thinking helps us shift from seeing problems as caused by some-one or something external to seeing how our own actions create the problems we experience. Once we discover how we create our reality, we can then change it. Review for Religious When they are used together, the methods of organizational learning represented by these five disciplines have been proven to have great potential for transforming our workplaces into learn-ing communities. They provide us with the concrete theories and strategies we need so that together with our coworkers we can not only learn, but learn how to learn. By virtue of the fact that they expand our capacity to learn, these disciplines also foster our spiritual development. The disciplines of organizational learn-ing help us to learn in new ways and so broaden our opportuni-ties to experience the spiritual depths of learning. The most effective spirituality of work for the information age will focus on transforming our work organizations into learn-ing communities. It will do so by integrating disciplines of orga-nizational learning with insights from the spiritual traditions. This paper has contributed to this integration. New approaches to organizational learning such as the ones we have mentioned here provide the spirituality of work with the concrete disciplines it needs to develop learning communities. At the same time, the insights which our spiritual and religious traditions can provide deepen our understanding of what is at stake in the transforma-tion of work. We will be able to create meaning~l spiritualities of work in this new era only if we continue to engage in this process of integration. Notes ~ William E. May, "Work, Theology of," in The New Dictionary of Catholic Social Thought, ed. Judith A. Duryer (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994), pp. 991-1002; Karen Ready, "Work," in The Encyclopedia of Religion, ed. Mircea Eliade (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co, 1987), vol. 15, pp. 441-444; Edward C. Sellner, "Work," in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), pp. 1044-1051; Francis Schiissler Fiorenza, "Religious Beliefs and Pr'axis: Reflections on Catholic Theological Views of Work," in Work and Religion, ed. Gregory Baum (New York: Seabury Press, 1980), pp. 92-102. 2 Marie-Dominique Chenu, "Work," in Sacramentum Mundi: An Encyclopedia of Theology, ed. Karl Rahner (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970), vol. 6. 3 Karl Rahner, "Concerning the Relationship between Nature and Grace," in Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1961), vol. 1, pp. 297-317; "Nature and Grace," in Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 4, pp. 165-188; Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Chr#tianity (New York: Crossroad, 1978). 4Walter Principe, "Toward Defining Spirituality," Studies in Religion Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities 12 (1983): 127-141; Sandra Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 676-697. s Hans Kiing and Karl-Josef Kuschel, A Global Ethic: The Declaration of tbe Parliament of the World's Religions (New York: Continuum, 1993). 6 Joseph Holland. Creative Communion: Toward a Spirituality of Work (New York: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 24-26. 7 Frederick W. Taylor, The Principles of Scientific Management (New York: Harper and Bros., 1911); Marvin R. Weisbord, Productive Workplaces: Organizing and Managing for Dignity~ Meaning, and Community (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), pp. 50-69, 8 Peter Drucker Post-Capitalist Society (New York: HarperBusiness, 1993), p. 5. 9 "John Paul II, On Human Work (Laborem Exercens) (Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1981); Dorothee Soelle with Shirley A. Cloyes, 7~ Work and to Love: A Theology of Creation (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984); Joe Holland, Creative Communion; Lee Hardy, The Fabric of This World: Inquiries into .Calling, Career Choice, and the Design of Human Work (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1990); Miroslav Volf, Work in the Spirit: Toward a Theology of Work (New York: Oxford University, 1991); John C. Haughey, Converting 9 to Y: A Spirituality of Daily Work (New York, Crossroad, 1989). l0 Drucker, Post-Capitalist Society, p. 5; Charles Handy, The Age of Unreason (Boston: Harvard Business School, 1989), pp. 34-35, 50-51. *~ Drucker, "The Age of Social Transformation," Atlantic Monthly (November 1994): 53-80. ~2 Drucker, The New Realities (New York: Harper, 1989), p. 173. ,3 Drucker, Post-Capitalist Society, p. 49. 14 A large and important segment of experts in this field prefers to call.the discipline "organizational transformation." See John D. Adams, ed., Transforming Work: A Collection of Organizational Transformation Readings (Alexandria: Miles River Press, 1984). ,s Thomas G. Cummings and Christopher G. Worley, Organization Development and Change (Minneapolis: West Publishing, 1993), p. 2. ~6 Chris Argyris and Donald A. Sch6n, Organizational Learning II: Theory, Method, and Practice (Reading: Addison-Wesley Publishing, 1996), ~7 Peter Senge, The Fifth Discipline: The Art and Practice of Learning Organizations (New York: Doubleday, 1990), p. 3. 18 Peter Senge et al., eds., The Fij~h Discipline Fieldbook: Strategies and Tools for Building a Learning Organization (New York: Doubleday, 1994), pp. 9-12. 19Argyris and Sch6n, Organizational II, p. xvii. 20 Senge, "Communities of Commitment: The Heart of Learning Organizations," in The Learning Organization in Action: A Special Report from Organizational Dynamics (New 'York: American Management Association, 1994), pp. 9-15. Review for Religious 21 Holland, Creative Communion, pp. 18-42, and Matthew Fox, The Reinvention of Work: A New Vision of Livelihood for Our Time (HarperSanFrancisco, 1994). 22.Soelle, 7~ Work and to Love, p. 112. 23 Adams, Transforming Work; Peter Hawkins, "The Spiritual Dimension of the Learning Organization," Management Education and Development 22 (1991): 172-187; Peter Block, Stewardship: Choosing Service over Self-Interest (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler, 1993); Alan Briskin, The Stirring of Soul in the Workplace (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996); Harrison Owen, Spirit: Transformation and Development in Organizations (Potomac: Abbot, 1987); and Tony Smith, Parzival's Briefcase: Six Practices and a New Philosophy for Healthy Organizational Change (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 1993). 24 Jean Leclercq, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God: A Study of Monastic Culture (New York: Fordham University Press, 1961). 2s Karl Rahner, Spirit in the World (Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1968), pp. 57-383; Hearer of the Word(New York: Continuum, 1994), pp. 1-54; and, Foundations of Christian Faith, pp. 14-23, 26-35. 26 Karl Rahner, "Theology of Freedom," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 6, pp. 178-196; Foundations of Christian Faith, pp., 35-39; "The Dignity and Freedom of Man," Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1963), vol. 2, pp. 246-263. 27 Karl Rahner, "Concerning the Relationship between Nature and Grace," pp. 297-317; "Some Implications of the Scholastic Concept of Uncreated Grace," Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1961), vol. 1, pp. 319-346; "Nature and Grace," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 4, pp. 165-188; Foundations of Christian Faith,. pp. 116-133. 28 Parker J. Palmer, 7b Know as We are Known: Education as a Spiritual Journey (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993). 29 Karl Rahner, "The Experience of God Today," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 11, pp. 149-165; "Experience of the Holy Spirit," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1983), vol. 18, pp. 189-210; "Christian Living Formerly and Today," Theological Investigations (New York: Seabury, 1977), vol. 7, pp. 3- 24. 30 This and other ideas below are developed in Senge, The Fifth Discipline, and in Senge et al., The Fifth Discipline Fieldbook. Septe~nber-October 1998 gnatian spirituality JOHN J. BEGLEY The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises This article~ proposes a contemporary understanding of Jesus' parables, and it shouts their importance for the dynamic of the Spiritual Exercises. Those familiar with St. Ignatius's book are aware that he does not propose the parables for prayer during the Exercises. Several reasons, however, prompt the exploration of this relationship. First, contemporary scripture studies stress the importance of the parables in the Jesus' teaching, and including them within the Exercises can enrich that experience. Second, we take the New Testament seriously as the starting point of our prayer, and we want that prayer grounded in the best understanding of the New Testament that solid con-temporary scholarship can provide; Third, the parables make up a full third of Jesus' teaching, and so any attempt to "put on the mind that was in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5) cannot afford to overlook them. Finally, for retreatants who are troubled by doubt concerning what Jesus really said, the parables deserve our close attention. As a pio-neer of modern parable study has said, "We are standing on a particularly firm historical foundation., part of the bedrock of tradition. We are standing right before Jesus when reading his parables" (Jeremias, p. 5). Later we will discuss the dynamic of the Exercises in some detail. For the moment it will be useful to recall John J. Begley SJ teaches in the Department of Theology and Religious Studies; University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Revie~ for Religious both the purpose of the Exercises and the purpose of the parables. Their similar purposes will readily appear. The purpose of the Exercises is "the conquest of self and the regulation of one's life in such a way that no decision is made under the influence of any inordinate attachment" (§21). Behind the somewhat archaic phras-ing is the understanding that the Exercises have as their purpose to lead "a person to true spiritual freedom, so that we make no choice or decision because we have been influenced by some dis-ordered ,attachment" (Fleming, Spiritual Exercises, §21). Similarly, the. parables' "purpose is to effect a change in the hearer, to lead to decision or action" (Boucher, p. 16-17). We begin with the parables. As Raymond Brown has remarked, "The study of the parables has generated an immense literature and sharp debates" (p. 132). We' will try to make the most of recent scholarship and to avoid controverted issues. Given the literature and the debates, it is difficult to capture the mean-ingof the parables in a single definition. J.R. Donahue in his Gospelin Parable (p. 5) cites approvingly C.H. Dodd's inductively derived definition; it will serve our purpose well. "At its simplest the parable is a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leav-ing the ,mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought." As metaphor, the familiar and better known--a mustard seed, for example--is compared to the less familiar kingdom of God. The kingdom is compared to and illuminated by something bet-ter known and more readily imagined. In the context of a retreat, the astonishing growth of a tiny mustard seed into a large bush illumines the growth of the retreatant's relationship with God, which is God's work in the retreatant. As a metaphor, it moves people, to greater participation in the more obscure retreat mate-rial being described or explained. Metaphor talks of the familiar so that one can participate in the less familiar (Crossan, p. 16 ). We may note that there are parables in the Hebrew Bible: the trees (Jg 9:7-15), for example, and the ewe lamb (2 K 12:1-4). The rabbis used parables for the normal pedagogical purposes of illustrating and illuminating their teaching. The listeners of Jesus were familiar with the genre. Jesus subordinated the familiar uses of the parable to his primary purpose of proclaiming the king-dom, of sounding the call and challenge to embrace the conditions of living in the kingdom. The parables of Jesus transcend any September-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises previous use, for he thereby expresses what cannot be expressed by any other means than symbol and metaphor: the kingdom of God. The parables, like other, symbolic expressions, are polyva-lent. No single meaning exhausts their content. Parables cannot be reduced to a proposition. Modern parable study begins with several commonly accepted suppositions. First, the early church supplied the context of the parables as they appear in the narratives of Jesus' ministry, and we must bracket off that context if we wish to hear the parable as Jesus spoke it. For example, the command "Go and do likewise" (Lk 10:37) presently concludes the parable of the Good Samaritan. The common judgment, however, is that it does not belong to the parable as Jesus taught it, and so we exclude it from consid-eration. As we will see, the bracketing changes the parable's mean-ing dramatically. Second, the tradition has at times changed a parable of Jesus into an allegory. For example, in Mark's Gospel the parable of the sower appears both as Jesus taught it (4:3-9) and as the early church preserved it as an allegory (4:13-20). This is not to say that allegory is improper. However, to recover the para-bles as Jesus taught them, we avoid the allegorical interpretation. Other parables, such as that of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:29-37), have in their transmission become example stories. As the message about Jesus was proclaimed in a non-Jewish culture, its second generation non-Jewish listeners were unfamiliar with the mean-ing of Samaritan, priest, and Levite. The parable became an exam-ple story, lessening the challenge of the original parable. We are not suggesting a single interpretation to the exclu-sion of all others, whether that interpretation is traditional or contemporary. The parable of the prodigal, for example, is fre-quently understood as a parable of God's mercy. As the First Week progresses, a retreatant may suggest to her director, as the result of her own understanding and experience, that she would like to spend some time during the First Week praying over The Prodigal as a parable of God's merciful love. The director must respect the retreatant's freedom and the gift of her prayer. In days to come in the retreat, as discretion suggests, the director can pro-pose the parable once again with a different interpretation drawn from modern parable study. Both interpretations are valid. Retreatants find two contributions of J. Dominic Crossan particularly helpful. First is the manner in which he has located the parables in Jesus' own experience. To a previous observation Review for Religious that parables move people to greater participation in the matter a parable illustrates, it is important to add that "Jesus' parables are radically constitutive of his own distinctive historicity, and all else is located in them" (Crossan, p. 33). They proclaim and they establish the historicity of Jesus' response to the kingdom. There is an intrinsic bond between Jesus' experience and his expression of that experience in parables. Parables are cause and not effect of what Jesus said and did (Crossan, p. 32). Retreatants find it very attractive to pray over the parables and thereby to enter into the experience of Jesus. Second, Crossan's classification of the various parables as expressions of the kingdom's temporality (as advent, as reversal, and as action) is most help-ful. As we'will see, the parables of reversal in particular have an important role to play in the Exercises. One final observation is important. For some few commentators, Crossan among them, the urgency of the para-bles is related to the ever present now of the kingdom. While it would be interesting to consider the range of scholarly opinions on the relation of the kingdom to the end time, it seems better to avoid the confusion which could result. One scholar, Donald Senior, has preserved the urgency of the parables without enter-ing into the controverted question of eschatology. He writes, "The kingdom may be future but the choice is now" (Senior, p. 93). The temporality of the kingdom in terms of advent, reversal, and action appears in two paradigmatic parables which model all three modes of the kingdom. "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field" (Mr 13:44). "The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; onfinding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it" (Mr 13:45-46). The parables are simi-lar in structure, as revealed by the three verbs common to both. To unpack but one, in the parable of the treasure hidden in a field, we hear of a man whose nor.mal past-present-future is rudely but happily shattered. The future, which he has presumably planned and projected for himself, is totally invalidated by the finding (advent) of the treasure, which opens up new worlds and There is an intrinsic bond between Jesus' experience and his expression of that experience in parables. September- October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the I~natian Exercises unforeseen possibilities. In the force of this advent, he willingly reverses his entire past and acts to sell all that he has. From this advent and this reversal, he obtains the treasure that now dictates his future history in a most concrete way. It gives him a new life that he could not have planned for~himself and a new world in which to live this life (Crossan, p. 34). Advent parables are fewer than parables of reversal, ~which in turn are fewer than those of action. The frequency distribution probably reflects later tradition's needs rather than the frequency with which Jesus spoke them. Later generations experienced the advent of God in the paschal mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus and so felt less need to preserve the parables of advent. Advent parables stress one or another of three themes: hid-denness and mystery, gift and surprise, discovery and joy. For example, in the sower and mustard-seed parables, there are sharp juxtapositions of two states. In The, Sower, three instances of sow-ing loss are contrasted with three instances of harvest gain. In The Mustard Seed the contrast is between the small seed sown and the ample shade of the fully grown plant. The parables are not concerned with growth but with miracle, "not the organic and biological development but the gift-like nature, the graciousness and surprise of the ordinary, the advent of the bountiful harvest despite the losses of sowing, the large shade despite the small seed. In these ways the kingdom is advent. It is surprise and it is gift" (Crossan, pp. 37-51, emphasis added). To turn now to the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises, con-temporary experience of both directors and retreatants under-scores the advent character of the First Week. It would be impossible to number the retreatants who have summed up their First Week experience by saying, "It is all gift." In whatever man-ner the topics Ignatius proposes for prayer are treated--topics such as sin and punishment in the history of the world and in the self, past and present--the result is not a self broken by sorrow and remorse, but rather a self healed and given new life and freedom. It is an experience of one's own sinfulness, to be sure, but it is much more an experience of God's love embracing me with all of my sinfulness. The darkness of my sinfulness is shattered by the brilliance of God's reconciling, healing love. The modern mind reading the Exercises understands Ignatius's "cry of wonder" (§60) to rise from the felt awareness of God's love as experienced in the wonder of creation, in the wondei" of Review for Religious others who have been sources of life for me, in the wonder of myself as gifted, graced, and loved. The retreatant realizes, in the phrase that has become a familiar experiential reality for those who have made at least the First Week of the Exercises, that she is a "loved sinner." Mthough memories of the past, or feelings of inadequacy, fear, or self-rejection may have gripped the retreatant, now the redemptive love of God has set the exercitant free, desirous of reordering her life more effectively "to the end for which we are created" (§23). At this point the retreatant has experi-enced what in Crossan's language is called advent. To the retreatant have been revealed the hiddenness and the mystery, the gift and surprise, the discovery and joy of the king-dom. One or another of all these parable themes describes the retreatant's experience as she concludes the First Week. What had remained hidden, the mystery of the self as loved by God, has been discovered with joy as the surprising gift of God's love. In the manner of the discovery of a pearl of great price--which cannot be explained by either the skill of the direc-tor, the dispositions of the retreatant, or natural psychological development--the retreatant experiences the sheer joy of one who is loved and affirmed in the depths of the self, not despite who one is but precisely as one is. This is the important meaning of the advent parables of Jesus, and the retreatant can profitably pray over them during the First Week. From the first meditation of the First Week, the retreatant's attention has been focused on the crucified Lord, whose love for-gives and frees. In his presence the retreatant has asked, "What ought I to do for Christ?" (§53). Having experienced advent, the retreatant is now in a position to consider what return she shall make to the Lord whose love has opened for her a new way of life, more abundant than she ever thought possible. The loved sinner desires to be a loving servant. The retreatant is ready for the Second Week, in which parables of reversal and action have an important part to play. These parables have. as their purpose "to effect a change in the hearer, to lead to decision or action" (Boucher, pp. 16-17). More To the retreatant have been revealed the hiddenness and the mystery, the gift and surprise, the discovery and joy of the kingdom. Septentber-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises dramatically but not less surely, the parables of reversal look to the situation where "the last becomes first and the first becomes last, We have a polar reversal, When the north pole becomes the south pole and the south the north,, a world is reversed and overturned" (Crossan, p. 55) The world that is meant here is the inner world of values, priorities, and motives. It is the inner world of atti-tudes, dispositions, habitual judgments, This reversal is very much what Ignatius proposes to the retreatant at this point in the Exercises. The readiness to turn my familiar world upside down is the necessary predisposition for a good election. Ignatius underscores this in his singularly important consid-eration on the Two Standards. In an introduction to this medita-tion (§135). Ignatius reminds us that the following of Christ in loving service admits of various degrees; the sincere following of the commandments, which has been considered in meditating on Jesus' obedience to his parents, and the state of evangelical per-fection, which was considered in the youthful Jesus remaining behind in the temple. Now the retreatant, while continuing to investigate his life, is to begin to consider and to pray for a knowl-edge of the kind of life to which the Lord summons her. In the Two Standards Ignatius asks the retreatant to imagine Christ mak-ing an address "to all his servants and friends whom he sends on this enterprise." In his address he reverses the strategy of his adversary, "the chief of all the enemy," who stands beneath the first standard. As Ignatius sums up what the retreatant is, to con-sider, he says, "Hence there will be three steps: the first, poverty as opposed to riches; the second, insults or contempt ~as opposed to the honor of this world; the third, humility as opposed to pi'ide (§146, emphasis added). The .colloquy that concludes the Two Standards meditation is to be repeated at the end of each of the five periods of prayer every day until the election has been made. This threefold collo-quy addressed first to Mary, then to her 'Son, and finally to the Father is for the grace to be received under his standard, where the disciple of Christ can expect to bear poverty and humiliations in imitation of him. In a note to the subsequent Meditation on Three Classes of Men, Ignatius advises the retreatant: "It should be noted that when we feel an attachment opposed to actual poverty or a repugnance to it. it will be very helpful in order to :overcome the inordinate attachment, even though corrupt nature rebel against it, to beg our Lord in the Colloquies to choose Review for Religqous us to serve him in actual poverty" (§ 157). As Ignatius makes clear, such a disposition does not come easily: "We should insist that we desire it, beg for it, plead for it, provided of course that it be for the service and praise of the DiVine Goodness" (§157). At the critical time of making a decision that will define the self in relation to the Lord, to others, and to the contingencies of experience, the parables of reversal will serve the retreatant's need very well. It is helpful to recall that the parables represent a call which is absolute (the kingdom cannot be subordinated to any other concern) and that this absolute call is not specific (as the command to love is not specified for each particular circumstance of human life). Indeed, it is the absolute but nonspecific nature of the call of Christ to "follow me" (here and now, or later?) that requires discernment in order to come to a properly ordered deci-sion. The absolute but nonspecific call of the parables is empha-sized in the Exercises as well. The call of Christ in the Meditation on the Kingdom is abso-lute: "Whoever wishes to join me in this enterprise must be will-ing to labor with me, that by following me in suffering he may follow me in glory" (§95.). However, the manner in which one "labors with me" is not specified. Ignatius, in the oblation which concludes the Kingdom, speaks of poverty, humiliatiqns, and humility, but ~does not specify the manner in which "those who wish to give greater proof of their love, and to distinguish them-selves in whatever concerns theservice of:~the eternal King" (§97), will incarnate the proof of their love. The specification is the goal of the retreat and requires the prayer and discernment of the retreatant. Second, the change in the "world" of the retreatant, which the First Week begins and the Second Week develops, is precisely the retreatant's world of values and judgments, of desires and priorities, of hopes and dreams. The parables of reversal chal-lenge this world of the retreatant, who, through the reciprocal process of praying the parables and "reflecting on myself," begins to investigate and ask in what kind or state of life God wishes to make use of me (§135). The retreatant enters into "the mind of Christ" (Ph 2:5) and prays to make his mind her own. The parables, which communi-cate the experience of Jesus and not conclusions or admonitions, assist the retreatant to enter into her own experience of the Kingdom and to draw from that experience her own way of life. To accept the parables and the experience they offer is to take on September-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises a new personal perspective, a new way of interpreting and valu-ing, of deciding and acting. In a word, the retreatant develops a different and more refined set of principles, insights, and critical judgments which can be termed a personal hermeneutic. It is to grow in faith. It is worthwhile to note that the theme of reversal is an essen-tial theme of the teaching of Jesus and of the parables. The beloved Good Samaritan parable (Lk 10:25-37) has tradition-ally been heard as an example of neighborliness. In the wake of Jeremias's study, commentators today suggest that the parable has been reconstructed in the course of transmission. The con-text (Jesus' conversation with a lawyer) and his concluding com-mand ("Go and do likewise," §37) have been provided by the early church and have to be removed from consideration if we are to .come closer to the parable as Jesus spoke it. At a distance both geographical and temporal from the world of Samaritans, priests, and Levites, the story lacked the immediacy that it had for the first listeners of Jesus, and this parable of reversal has been changed by the second-generation of Christians into an example story. Once the parable is allowed to stand on its own, it is no longer simply a story of the neighborliness that fulfills the law, but becomes a parable of reversaL Crc;ssan has brilliantly noted that, if the parable is primar-ily to provide an illustration of neighbor love or an indictment of heartless religious leaders, then help offered by a Jewish layperson would have made the proper point. The shock is that it is the Samaritan who stops. At the remove of centuries, it is easy for us to overlook the hatred that existed between Jews and Samaritans. During the period of the Exile, the Samaritans had intermarried with non-Jews, had opposed the restoration of the Jewish temple, and in the 2nd century B.C. had actually helped the Syrians in their wars against the Jews. The Jewish high priest had burned the Samaritan temple on Mount Gerizim, and the Samaritans had scattered the bones of a corpse in. the Jerusalem temple, thereby defiling it and making it impossible to celebrate Passover. The Samaritans did not accept the whole of the canon-ical Jewish Scriptures. They refused hospitality to Jesus and his disciples because they were on their way to Jerusalem (Lk 9:52- 53). The Jews believed they had insulted Jesus by calling him a Samaritan (Jn 4:7-10), and Jesus himself warned his disciples to avoid the Samaritan territory (Mt 10:5). Review for Religious The shock of the parable, calling for a reversal of attitudes on the part of its hearers, is that the one who helps the Jewish victim and fulfills the law is the enemy and religious apostate. The parable reverses our understanding of who God is and whom God approves. It destroys a narrow, legalistic under-standing of the law and reveals the hatred and divisions which had become institutionalized. The world of the lawyer and his fellow listeners is turned upside down. They are to speak the unspeakable; they are to join the apparent contradictories "good" and "Samaritan." Another parable of reversal that can be useful during the Second Week is that of the Prodigal Son. It is lengthy (Luke 15:11-32) and so well .known that we need not retell it here. In Crossan's interpretation the reversal is located in the presence of the prodigal at the banquet while his dutiful older brother is out-side pouting (Crossan, p. 75). Merely to state the reversal in this way is to grip the imagination of the retreatant. It calls for a rever-sal of mind and heart that must be prayed over until it is interi-orized and can then move the retreatant toward her election/decision with gratitude and enthusiasm. Another approach to the Prodigal Son (Donahue, pp. 151- 157) may be even more helpful to the retreatant. Here the rever-sal is in our understanding, of what constitutes a relationship to God. Both sons define sonship in terms of servile obligation: "Treat me as one of your hired servants," says the younger son; "I have slaved for you," says his older brother. Each in his own way destroys the family. "As the younger son felt that the way~ to restore the severed relationship was to become a servant, the older brother maintained it by acting as a servant. Between the dutiful son and the prodigal is a bond much deeper than is visible on the surface . A relationship . . . worked out in terms of servility leads to destruction. The relationship as redefined by the father leads to joy" (Donahue, p. 157). Some women may find it difficult to pray with the images of "father" and "sons." Sandra Schneiders has captured the power of the parable from a feminist perspective: "Jesus' parable about the father actually constitutes a radical challenge to patriarchy. The divine father who has been understood as the ultimate justification of human patriarchy is revealed as the one who refuses to own us, demand our submission, or punish our rebellion. Rather, God is the one who respects our freedom, mourns our alienation, waits Septentber-October 1998 Begley * The Parables of yesus and the Ignatian Exercises patiently for our return, and accepts our love as pure gift" (cited by Donahue, pp. 161-162). The parable conveys the essential mindset for understanding discipleship and for making the decision that leads to more faith-ful discipleship. Crossan has expressed it perfectly in his discus-sion of the primary issue between Jesus and the Pharisees: "Obedience does not lead to God, God leads one to obedience" (Crossan, p. 80). The Two Standards! Ignatius focuses the retreatant's attention upon the activity of the poor and humble Christ, and so the prayerful consideration of the action parables may be somewhat less necessary than those of advent and reversal. The action parables, though, do portray cru-cial or critical situations that demand prompt and energetic deci-sion, firm and resolute action, that are very much in line with retreat purposes. They summon us to commit ourselves in response to the advent of the kingdom regardless of the reversal they demand, and so they, can prove helpful in the later days of the Second Week. They reflect the situation of the retreatant as she moves towards free self-disposition in response to her experience of the advent of the kingdom. Parables of action portray three different responses to the urgency of action (Crossan, pp. 84-85). As examples of one response (see the parable of the friend at mid-night [Lk 11:58] or the unjust judge [Lk 18:2-5]), we meet persons who accept the inevitability of what must be done and take action. In other parables (for example, the rich fool in Lk 13:16-20), the person fails to recognize the urgency of the situation and so fails to act. A third set of action parables (for example, the bridesmaids, Mt 25:1-13) describes those who respond adequately and those who do not. These parables of Jesus can effectively move the retreatant to overcome her natural hesitancy to choose what is beyond the strength of her own resources: to choose, with faith in the advent of the kingdom within her, what "would be more for his praise and glory" (§180). The explanation of the relationship between the parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises has been long. A director may well question the advisability of proposing such an explanation when Ignatius expects the director to "adhere to the points, and add only.a short or summary explanation., for it is not much knowledge that fills and satisfies the soul, but the intimate under-standing and relish of the truth" (§2). Despite the length of this article's explanation, experience has shown that it is possible to l~eview for Religio~a give retreatants a "summary explanation." Retreatants easily grasp the primary idea of the different parables, are comfortable with the understanding proposed, and experience an unexpected delight in praying the parables of Jesus. A Selection of Parables Advent parables: The leaven, Mt 13:20-21; the sower, Mk 4:3- 8; the mustard seed, Mt 4:30-32; the lost sheep, Mt 18:12-13; the lost coin, Lk 15:8-9. Reversal parables: The Good Samaritan, Lk 10:30-37; The Prodigal Son, Lk 15:11-32; the rich man and Lazarus, Lk 16:19- 31; the Pharisee and the tax collector, Lk 18:9-14; the wedding guest, Lk 14:1-24; the great supper, Mt 22:1-14; the sheep and the goats, Mt 25:31-46. Action parables: the wicked husbandmen, Mk 12:1-,12); the doorkeeper, Mk 13:33-37; the talents, Mt 25:14-3 O; the unmerciful servant, Mt 18:23-38; the unjust steward, Lk 16:1-7; the workers in the vineyard, Mt 20:1-16. Bibliography Boucher, Madeleine I. The Parables. Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1981. Brown, Raymond E. An Introduction to the New Testament. New York: Doubleday, 1997. Crossan, John Dominic. In Parables. New York: Harper and Row, 1970. Donahue, John R. The Gospel in Parable. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988. Fleming, David L. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978. Henog, William R. Parables as Subversive Speech. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994. Jeremias, Joachim. Rediscovering the Parables. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1989. Puhl, Louis J. (trans.). The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951. Senior, Donald. Jesus: A Gospel Portrait, 2nd ed. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1991. September-October 1998 ANITA J. BALY St. Ignatius and My Piano One of the best things I got out of making the thirty-day Spiritual Exercises was learning I could play the piano. That is not all that I experienced in the long retreat, by any means. And Idid not know I was taking away that particular fruit when the retreat ended. At a distance of two years, however, I sense that that.gift of musical empowerment is closely linked with my spiritual journey. What would St. Ignatius think of my response to his Exercises? Would palm slap forehead in pained frustration at my lack of com-prehension? Would he laugh--or cry? Would he sharply insist that I had trivialized the meaning of his work--and knew it? Would he smile ever so slightly and nod approval? I would not presume to read back into the saint's mind. I am even clueless as to how oth-ers who have completed the Exercises would react. In the silent and solitary conduct of the Exercises, it is impos-sible to know for sure what other retreatants derive. One can make some guesses based on body language and apparent changes, but there is no way to check out assumptions orhlly. At the con-clusion of my retreat, half a dozen of us retreatants sat and tried to share with one another what had occurred for us. What impressed me that evening was how different the perceived fruits seemed to be for each participant! It was also pleasing to see how diverse outcomes seemed to comport with the Exercises. Anita J. Baly JD, MDiv, PhD, is interim pastor of the Lutheran Church of Our Saviour and an adjunct faculty member in theology at Union Theological Seminary in Virginia and the Presbyterian School of Christian Education. Her address is 3001 Libby Terrace; Richmond, Virginia 23223. Review for Religious The Spiritual Exercises are not a map that points in only one direction via a single route. The end desired is surely the same for all Christians: that we grow continually in faithfulness to the Lord's person and work, approaching more and more the fullness of the fruits of the Spirit; that we grow in the capacity to attain, relish, and express the love of God. Or, as St. Paul says so suc-cinctly: the end (telos) the Christian seeks is "eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 6:22-23).~ The means to achieving that end, however, clearly differ according to God-given differences in per-sonalities, capacities, and experiences. No means are excluded automatically since "all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" (Rm 8:28). The Exercises affirm, support, and foster individual wrestling with God's individual graces, to attain the end that is at once universal and also particular. The Exercises, that is, attune to the fact that the Spirit blows how, as, and where it wills. Each exercitant's task is to meet that universal Spirit in the exact par-ticularity of who he or she really is. Were this not to occur, the positive effects of the Exercises in fostering "the salvation of souls and their spiritual profit" would likely be severely limited.2 Theologically this makes sense: incarnation is God's presence and manifestation only in what is really there. God does not meet us inthe past, in the future, or in the way we wish things were. Incarnation means that God meets us precisely here, immediately now. It is, I believe, out of respect for God's ways of working dif-ferendy with different individuals that St. Ignatius urges the direc-tor to be brief in explaining the meditations and contemplations (§2). The saint seems to find it acceptable that exercitants work out much of the matter of the Exercises alone, with God's help. In this way, inevitably, exercitants will surely miss some details and fine points. Ignatius's sense of the compensation for this loss is clear. He says: "It is not in knowing much, but realizing and rel-ishing things interiorly, that contents and satisfies the soul" (§2). My own journey with the Exercises involved the discovery that I could play the piano. As I see it, that was not just a nice My own journey with the Exercises involved the discovery that I could play the piano. September- October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano thing--though it is wonderful! Studying piano has actually become a major support of my continuing spiritual journey. It was a dis-covery I in no way sought, envisioned, or wanted. It came about in response to the circumstances of my long retreat. I made the Exercises at one of the large houses that groups retreatants together with multiple outside directors for one or a few events each year) Our group of retreatants and directors numbered close to seventy people, with an overall director who is a musician. He wanted music provided for the daily liturgies and asked for vol-unteer music leaders. Although there were one or two profes-sional- quality musicians among the group, they, understandably, wanted to retreat from musical production. That left canvassing the rest of us for volunteers, and five or six of us agreed to "do something" according to our capacities. In my case that was to mean simply leading hymns and responses and functioning as a cantor. I could sing and read music, but I played no instruments. As the retreat went on, the strain of producing coordinated music in an atmosphere of total silence showed on some of the original musical volunteers, who quit. That left fewer of us respon-sible for more liturgies. So I was providing music leadership to liturgies every few days with nothing but voice--and boring myself. Besides that, the various celebrants wanted different set-tihgs of liturgical responses. In order to be able to lead those, I had to try to hear them. In the silence, no one could sing them to me beforehand. There was, however, a brief daily period when all retreatants had access to the lone piano. I managed to find the notes to plunk out the melody lines of responses. I knew where the notes were on the keyboard from years of finding singing melodies with a one-finger, hunt-and-peck .method. It was, however, a sort of desperation for variety and for beauty that prompted me to take the next step. I finally made a few attempts to play a melody line under a hymn or two and once even attempted to play something as postcommunion meditation music. Those attempts resulted in poor music that did not enhance the services, in my opinion, and embarrassed me. I suppose I would have quit trying and that would have been the end of it, were it not for the movements of a few people there. One of the directors saw my embarrassment at the poverty of my tries at accompaniment. He managed to honor that pain by helping me try again in a safer way. And, when the retreat ended and we could speak, I learned that a few of the retreatants actually assumed I was Review for Religious a professional music minister! I suppose it was that small amount of affirmation and the serendipitous discovery of pleasure in a new "skill" that prompted me to continue. Once home, I had access to a piano--through the grace of two other friends. For a year I tinkered with that piano on my own, trying to teach myself, sensing in some vague way that for me the piano was a way of continuing to connect with the graces of the retreat. A year after the retreat, I began taking formal lessons. Those have now con-tinued for over a year. The piano is one among those created things that Ignatius would urge using or discarding according to its effect--for the individual pianist--in fostering or detracting from the praise, rev-erence, and service of God (§23). Music can be perverted in var-ious ways. Of itself, though, it does seem to enjoy divine approbation. The Bible in many places, especially in the Psalms, enjoins us to sing to the Lord, to make a joyful noise, to praise our God with timbrel and trumpet, voice, dance--and strings.4 Why would music be so privileged? Maybe God just likes music. That is, the use of music for religious expressions may be linked to something in God's being. Maybe music is special because it is always a common expression, a community endeavor. Even solitary composers or musicians do not invent their instru-ments. Neither do they create the musical notes and their fun-damental relationships--though composers group in "new" ways and patterns the notes and chords they have .been given. The musical givens are built right into~the world. One who discovers them is in dialogue with God the Creator. Because I only play the piano, and do not compose music for it, I dialogue with the Creator about music at one remove. My communion with the composer provides a way for me to make my musical connection with the Directing Source. When I attend faithfully to playing that music as it is written down, I know something too of God's conducting. That faithful attempt to connect with the composer's aural "vision" helps me understand and even "hear" that my studying and playing piano is connected also with my spiritual journey. For me, both praying and piano playing seem more satisfying and closer to hitting the mark when I approach them with a certain kind of discipline. Ignatius illuminates the fact that successful meditation involves the integration of memory, reason, will, and feelings (§50). And the good progress of the Exercises seems to verify that pro- September-October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano found insight. To me, it proves the saint was truly a spiritual genius, As one who .once scored a hundred percent on the feeling compo-nent of the Myers-Briggs Preference Test, my psyche is perpetually on the edge of drowning in emotion. Besides that, my imagination is so strong that I could almost live in it. Now, imagination and feeling are essential for getting through the Exercises. It is difficult to see how an Application of the Senses meditation, for example, could progress without them (§123). The same is true for music. Without feeling, it is lifeless and powerless. Imaginative hearing certainly helps in the process of learning music. Feeling and imagination are good things in moderation. As an extreme "feeler" and "imaginer," however, I cleave to the Ignatian system because of the constant pressure it exerts on me to think and to perceive what is actually there in the world. Overly enthu-siastic thinkers and sensers probably value the Ignatian system for the opposite reason: the pressure it exerts on them to feel and to imagine. One of the supreme marvels of Ignatius's method is the way it teaches, inculcates, presumes, and honors balance. Such balance and integration are often difficult, to keep up in daily life. They are particularly hard to sustain at times of stress when the temptation is to fall back into the ways of reacting that are most automatic and comfortable for us. Our customary responses may be too lopsided to be effective--or holy. It is aware-ness followed by practice, building habits of mind and heart, that can help us to redirect our responses away from the habitual and into more prudent directions. The practice of Ignatian prayer helps with this. In a very similar way, the study of piano also teaches me to strive for balanced, integrated responses. Playing piano, like praying in the lgnatian.mode, requires using memory to aid the intellect, engaging the will in the endeavor, and aligning feelings with the will. My teacher, thus, emphasizes for me the importance of learning chord relationships and learning and remembering proper fingering. In this way my memory assists my reasoning about how to play a new piece of music. And only when my will controls my~ feelings can I keep my enthusiasm from ruining the dynamics and phrasing of com-positions. For me it is truly useful discipline to have to count continuously, thereby exercising a form of reason. My teacher also patiently reminds me that I must play the piece as it is writ-ten-- not as I may prefer or wish it to be, nor as I would find it easier to play. Those reminders are echoes of incarnation! When Review for Religious I lose the balance and proper relationship of memory, reason, will, and feelings, the pieces do not sound right. They cease to please the ear. In a profound sense they are no longer "good." In turn, that reminds me that, when I lose the balance in my spiri-tual life, it too is swerving from the best direction. One particular place where Ignatius urges balance and indif-ference is in making an election (§179). The single criterion of election is that a given alternative seems to lead more to the glory and praise of God and to the salvation of one's soul. The ideal choice, thus, is very pure and very disciplined. In a similar way, the best choice in playing music will be to put aside any personal inclinations or biases or even technical insufficiencies. The goal is to play the piece as near as possible to the composer's intention. The search for that intention can be like discerning the will of God. Sometimes neither the one nor the other is apparent on the surface. It is in both cases openness, dialogue, respect, fidelity, and persistence that create the atmosphere in which disclosure becomes more likely. Within all the balance and indifference in prayerful elections, however, it does seem that reason takes primacy (§ 182). Ignatius seems almost to anticipate the Kantian ethical principle about acting in ways that would please you if they became universal law. The saint counsels us to imagine advising an unknown person whose sanctification we desire, within the context of our own sense of what best conduces to God's glory. Having determined that advice, we are ourselves to follow it (§185). So too in music, where it is hard to imagine advising anyone to play a work other than as it is written. Once reason has helped us to know the goal for living well or for playing music well, the honorable course is to set about engaging the other parts of the personality to col-laborate in moving to this end, and in practicing and honing needed skills for doing so. Relaxation and trust enhance both instrumental playing and prayer. At a recent lesson, my piano teacher watched and heard me struggle through a work white-knuckled, tight-shouldered, gri-macing, and gritting my teeth. She then inquired, sweedy, whether I found it easier to play tense or relaxed. That reminded me of the priest at my last directed retreat who kept urging me to pray in Imaginative hearing certainly helps in the process of learning music. Septentber-October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano peace and serenity--until I finally did. Tension and trying to retain control do not facilitate progress in either prayer or piano. Humility certainly helps in both spheres. Ignatius specifically counsels cultivating the attitude of humility at those times we contemplate our sins. He says that we are then to "lessen" our-selves via various imaginative comparisons (§58). The whole envi-ronment of the Exercises, moreover, induces humility. Much in the system cooperates to encourage the exercitant to esteem God's control and another's direction over what comes from the self alone. For me the Exercises went best at those times when I was most teachable and directable. The same is true of piano study: I play better by attuning to what is there musically and to the teacher. Playing the piano and praying are complementary processes that call on remarkably similar skills. As I hone technique in one area, I also seem to position myself for advancement in the other activity. A kind of cross-leavening seems to occur. As I attend con-sciously to what happens, it seems as though piano learnings tend to foster px:ayer learnings, not vice versa. I think that is because progress in piano happens in an external realm where any who wish may hear, measure, compare, iudge, criticize, and so forth. The no-less-real results of prayer exist in' an internal sphere fully accessible neither to others nor even to myself. Whatever helps someone to understand more of what occurs in personal prayer and to be able to communicate that has to be a boon to progress in prayer. Piano does those things for me. Piano also intimates to me and gives me the hope that King Hezekiah expressed: "The Lord will save me, and we will sing to my stringed instruments all the days of our lives, at the house of the Lord" (Is 38:20). Notes 1 Scriptural citations are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. 2 The quoted words are from the Papal Approbation of St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises in 1548, as given in David L. Fleming SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. xxiii. Other citations (§) are standard paragraph numberings used in this and other modern trans-lations of the Exercises. 3 Jesuit Retreat House, Los Altos, California. 4 Psalms 33, 68, 81, 92,144, 149, and 150 all direct the use of musi-cal instruments in praising God. Review for Religious JOSEPH A. TETLOW The Experience of God in Consecrated Life during the 20th Century In this article I try to describe the experience of God, not to prescribe for it. I begin, first, with the meanings of the terms spirituality and religion and the content of the term experi-ence. Second, I characterize modern times just before Vatican Council II under three headings: aggressive realism, methodi-cal universalism, and rugged individualism. I do this because modernity has marked consecrated life deeply and in some mea-sure still marks it, and because, when conservatives talk about the past, this is the past they mean. Third, about the council, I note only that the reform of church structures and the renewal of consecrated life brought out deep problems with authority and with our concept of the self. Finally, coming to today, I urge that we can appreciate consecrated life well in terms of the postmodern understanding of experience as constructed, derivative, intentional, and dialogic. I hope these somewhat scattered theoretical points will deepen our reflection on what the experience of God has been in consecrated life during the cen-tury that is now ending. Spirituality. For us spirituality means the experience of God in Christ. For others it means other things. The Communist government of China, for instance, has begun Joseph A. Tetlow SJ makes available here a talk that he pre-sented in Rome at a workshop attended by members of the union of major superiors of men religious; it retains something of that provenance. No newcomer to these pages, he is director of the Secretariat for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. consecrated life September-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience o[ God in Consecrated Life promoting what it calls a "spiritual civilization." Alcoholics Anonymous acknowledges only a "Higher Power" but has a spir-ituality. So has the New Age pseudo-philosophy. In this article the word spirituality is used in none of those vague senses. Here it means the experience of God in Christ, always incarnated in a tradition of prayer and interior discipline.~ A spiritual life, consequently,is the ongoing, cherished, fos-tered experience of God in Christ in one of the great consecrated-life traditions.2 Shifting "from the former stress on the rational to the experiential," serious theologians now recount "the in-break-ing God of personal experience.''3 Karl Rahner, certainly a spec-ulative theologian, was deeply stirred by Ignatius's conviction "that he had in fact experienced God directly and that others may do so as well.''4 Rahner wrote many prayers like this one.- "Thanks to your mercy, O infinite God, I know somethingabout you not only through concepts and words, but through experience . Yes, really you yourself, not just a concept of you, not just the name which we ourselves have given you.''5 John of the Cross experienced God, not an idea or a poem, and so did Don Bosco, St. Benedict, the author of the Cloud. Each experienced God in the specific way God chose~ All those who follow each of them adopt the perspectives, perceptions, and values of their masters, desiring and determined to know God as their tradition knows God. This is what we mean by spirituality. It differs from religion. Religion. Religion is the experience of creed, code, cultus, and culture and, in and through these creatures, the experience of God. Hinduism; Buddhism, Islam, even animism yield the expe-rience of God in the experience of creed, code, cultus, and cul-ture. 6 Islam, for instance, holds faith in Allah and in the prophet Mohammed, follows a moralistic code, practices cultus six times a day and a month each year, and has spread into a vast poly-morphous culture. Each Muslim experiences these creatures directly and, in them, God. The "ordinary Christian" who spent three hours worshiping in St. Peter's Square on Palm Sunday felt the presence of God in the liturgy. True, many ordinary Christians may have momentary "mystical experiences"; Andrew Greeley reported in one survey that perhaps eight in ten American Catholics have had such experiences, and we have no reason to think Americans more mystical than any other people. But those "mystical experiences" come as a surprise, for religious people Review for Religious experience God indirectly, through the created creed, code, cul-tus, and culture in their everyday lives. Religious leaders need to note two points connected with this: first, about the apostolate. The people we serve, the "millions in the middle," in Cardinal Joseph Bernardin's phrase, experience God in and through their religion. When the powerful or the super-spiritual despise these people's religion, the people suffer; for their special experience of God seems despised and degraded. Perhaps the church harmed them inadver-tently when it swiftly and almost wordlessly dismantled the liturgi-cal use of Latin and quotidian laws about fasting and communion on the tongue, Yet for centuries the church had called the full, whole-hearted living of religion, just reli-gion, "spirituality." Only a few centuries ago did theologians begin using the word spirituality for the life lived by an active, dedicated, religious elite, and only in the last two centuries did theologians begin separating the experience we call spirituality from the experience we call religion. We who find ourselves in this "elite" run the risk of so raising up spirituality as to depreciate religion. This is wrongheaded. The second thing superiors might note here concerns our own congregational lives. Are there not men in every congrega-tion who live the charism in wholehearted ways and yet cannot say they know God? We all know men who have pictures of the Holy Father, of saints and holy places, all over their rooms and offices. Perhaps they are living religion--creed, code, cultus, and cul-ture- as religion is embodied in a congregation's way of life, with all its pious practices. (Somebne told about a man who was watch-ing television and reading his breviary during the commercial breaks. He explained that Jesus had instructed us to "watch and pray.") Above all, perhaps we should consider whether the strongly conservative among us may live their interior lives in this way of religion. How do they experience God? Experience. Our topic is experience. As everyone does today, I have been talking about experience as though we all mean the same thing. But we do not. Some say experience includes just what Only in the last two centuries did theologians begin separating the experience we call spirituality from the experience we call religion. September-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life happens; some, that experience includes only what I am conscious of happening; some tinsist that human experience always includes language. Every one of. us, also, varies what he includes in the term. What does our topic mean, "The experience of God in con-secrated life"? Obviously, we cannot work out a perfect descrip-tion of experience here and now. Also obviously, we are probably not going to talk about it the way "scientific" philosophers talk about it. We are going to talk about experience, most likely, as Vita consecrata does.7 Perhaps, though, we need to notice, on a slightly theoretica,1 plane, that today people regularly talk about experience by using seven categories. A sort of common philosophy holds that each and every experience unfolds in seven dialogically inter-related elements: context, perspective, perception, value, desire, decision, and habit. We tend to think that any and every experi-ence is adequately described when each of these elements is accounted fo~, both in itself and in its relationship with each of the other elements. So, biographers get the concrete details of their subjects' time and place and recount how their context shaped their perspectives, how their values shaped their perceptions, and so on. Scripture scholars try to recapture the context of Jesus' life and the perspectives, perceptions, and values with which his context would have imbued him. When we look at a man's expe-rience to see whether he has the capacity to govern, we weigh his decisions and hal6its, how he perceives, what he values. Things like these constitute our view of his experience. So, at least for now, let that stand for what experience is. The description is hardly .satisfactory, so why did I raise the question? For two reasons. Fil:st, we whose main task is listening to .others must keep in mind that there is no such thing as a naive appeal to experience. The man who says, "Well, my experience tells me such-and-such" has not ended discussion, but just begun it. As philosophical theologiaJ~ John Smith argues, every appeal "carries with it a theory of experience, some principle indicating what expe-rience is and how much it is supposed to contain.''8 Conflicts between superiors and consecrated men, between individuals and their communities, commonly grow from different appreciations of experience. The second reason we need to be aware of the con-tent of experience is that the teaching church is changing its approach to experience, but is no more consistent than any of us in what content it puts into the word. Review for Religious Now let me turn to the three topics I mean to open: the pre-conciliar and modern, the council, and the postconciliar or post-modern. Preconciliar and Modern Times I begin with a story. In 1947 a young man of sixteen boarded a train on his way to a novitiate. Answering the questions of the novice-master, his back straight and shoulders squared, he explained his call. He felt drawn to a military life (his father had sent him to a military school). But he thumped the oak arm of his chair--absolutely, God wanted him to be a religious and a priest. Fifty years later, he remains both. The year 1947 came in the evening of modern times. What is modernity? How had it affected our experience of God in Christ? Intellectual historians generally concur on certain qualifies. Albert Borgmann, for instance, identifies as marks of modernity an aggressive realism (we experiment to know and we intend to con-trol life and nature with our knowledge); methodical universalism (any empirically established truth is true in every realm and in any culture); and rugged individualism (the person comes to be over against the community). Aggressive Realism. In the 1950s we perceived the modern uni-verse, unlike the medieval Christian cosmos, as impersonal and governed by regular laws that had to be understood mathemati-cally. We felt free to tear out forests, dig up mountains, and blow a hole in the earth's atmosphere. As we grew absorbed in this aggressive realism, in Richard Tarnas's words, "God was now dis-tantly removed from the physical universe, as creator and archi-tect, and was now less a God of love, miracle, redemption, or historical intervention than a supreme intelligence and first cause.''9 1 have the clearest recollection from the early 1950s of being instructed by a spiritual book written by a Frenchman and translated by a North American to turn at the end of a period of prayer and with whole heart and great fervor pray to "my First Cause." 10 This kind of realism seriously trammeled our experience of God, in part because that realism was magnified by a centuries-long failure in the church to develop anything like an adequate theology of creation,~ as John Courtney Murray argued in his book, The Problem of God. In modern times we spoke about God's Septonber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life providence or God's will, both exercised, in some measure, in dis-tans. But we had lost the strong sense of God continually, con-stantly creating us and personally calling us.~2 Most religious are still surprised and delighted to hear that we are in an intimate relationship with God the ongoing Creator. In truth, our God had some of the aspects of the rationalists' Great Watchmaker who created the earth and spun it off to do its own work. Notice that the experience of God in consecrated life in the West has been countercultural and is an important gift to the Western church, as Vita consecrata points OUt.13 It also has to be the source of a renewed theology of creation for the church (one thinks of Teilhard de Chardin). Rugged Individualism. Just a century ago the West gave scien-tific sanction to individualism in social Darwinism's "survival of the fittest." So the powerful grabbed oil, railroad lands, monopolies in finance, and so on; the less than powerful were taught to blame themselves. Between Vatican Councils I and II, between the first automobile and the first manned space vehicle, the socioeconomic program of the West, in Roberto Mangabeira Unger's words, was "to turn all society into a world of patrons and clients.''~4 Furthermore, this was certainly the methodical program of the Communist elites (only six percent of China's population) and arguably the established program of the rest of the world. Princes and rich landowners lavished patronage; their clients begged help. Colonial powers favored a native elite (that now rules seventy-five new nations); the natives depended on them. Bosses ruled "their" workers; bishops had "their" priests; religious superiors had "their" subjects. All these were "clients," including the reli-gious, who leaned on (the Indo-European root of "client" is klei, to incline to or lean on). their superiors. This patron/client relationship flourished in the church, which Catholics were taught to conceive of as a "perfect" society, that.is, a visible society fully equipped for its purposes with autonomous rights and resources, with powers of jurisdiction, legislation, and administration, and, in words of Pius XlI in Mystici Corporis, a society lifted "above the whole natural order [by] the Spirit of the Redeemer, who., penetrates every part of the church's being and is active within it.''~s We religious exhorted one another to dependence on our superiors. I do not speak critically here. We must empathize with this earlier perspective on authority. Authority was felt to be, in itself, profoundly benevolent to the Review for Religious subject, creative, and ultimately successful in making people what God wished them to be, Modern people simply did what they were told by superiors, and if some of them acted immorally-- remember Eichmann--many others flourished under good lead-ership. And tens of thousands of consecrated men lived holy and productive lives by doing what they were told. It was in this con-text that a young man (just like the one who took that train in 1947), when told .by his master of novices to tie his hands to his bedstead to avoid nocturnal pollution, at first obeyed confidently. I say "at first," for there was a shadow side to this embrace of authority. As Donald Gelpi has written, "submission of one's own will to a superior [was] subtly trans-formed from a means into an end in itself." 16 The religious subjects had an. easy way to personal holiness, and, superiors could ask them to be instruments of our congregations, instruments, we confidently believed, in God's hands. Very commonly it is this instrumentalism that conservatives yearn to recapture. One man said as much to me as he was planning a par-ticularly egregious action against some liberal Christians: "I just want to be a hammer in God's hands." What did he think he is? Who had responsibility for his harmful activities? Authority, and its instruments, were experienced as univer-sally valid until the very late stages of modernism. This century's experiences--the Holocaust, the Soviet Union's Gulag, Idi Amin, My Lai, terrorism, governmental lying, the totalitarian habit of "disappearing" people---have changed our appreciation of author-ity. In earlier modernity it was perceived as benevolent; at moder-nity's end, it has come to be perceived as malevolent or at best deeply ambiguous. Even consecrated men may nowadays won-der, at a letter from superiors, What do they want now? At the end of modernity, as Hannah Arendt argued, we have to study what authority once was to come to any realistic appreciation of it. This situation is, in part, the fruit of rugged individualism. Methodical Universalism. If the secular world gladly embraced empiricism as a universal method, the church embraced scholas- We had lost the strong sense of God continually, constantly creating us and persona, lly calling us. Septentber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life ticism as gladly. Before Vatican II, the teaching church was insist-ing on a unique philosopbia perennis, a single intellectual approach to meaning in human life. This insistence expressed a methodical universalism; it belonged more to modernity than to revelation. Scientists rigidly adhered to what they considered induction; Catholics rigidly adhered to deduction. One reviewer in 1949 called a masterwork by Garrigou-Lagrange "an outstanding exam-ple of the ability of a master scientist to draw a whole system of practical conclusions from a single principle.''17 The book was The Three Ages of the Interior Life, and the reviewer resonated with the book's methodical universalism.18 Integral to that methodical universalism was the firm con-viction that nature had an intrinsic order, put there by God and functioning flawlessly. Unaided reason could perceive this order with certitude (one of my philosophy professors liked to cite the Letter to the Romans). This modern trust in reason unrelated to God'.s "ongoing revelation transmuted the church's philosophical commitment to a "natural law." The trust in reason and law affected consecrated life, too: "Keep the rule, and the rule will keep you." As the 20th century progressed, we learned that nature ordered itself by evolution--having been so created by God at the time of the Big Bang. Catholics were quicker than most to accept that scientific theory as fact. Then we learned also that each person evolves, comes to be, grows, from some interior prin-ciple. The combination, grew to an insistence on "authenticity." Hence, as one author summarized the development, "in contrast with the medieval Christian worldview, modern man's indepen-dence- intellectual, psychological, spiritual--was radically affirmed, with increasing depreciation of any religious belief or institutional structure that would inhibit man's natural right and potential for existential autonomy and individual self-expres-sion." 19 He has caught most of the shibboleths of the 1960s, the pseudo-ideas, the decaying core convictions of modernity: inde-pendence, radical, institutional, structures, natural right, auton-omy, self-expression. These are the "plastic words" that many of us used when pushing far in the conciliar reforms.2° Vatican II and the Return to Roots Here is another story. Around 1967 a man from a religious com-munity made a workshop-retreat. He had been busy running a college Review for Religious and raising funds; he had never made a directed retreat or listened to one of the well'known spiritual gums. About a month a#er his expe-rience, he told another man in his community that the retreat had been powerful. He had never known, really known, that God accepts him, that God loves him as he is. He wept as he recounted the experience. In complex and varying ways, modernity had shaped the con-secrated life before Vatican II. Now we were called by the great decree Petfectae caritatis to return to our roots, to leave nature alone for a w, hile and go back to history. We needed to re-create our communities, an immensely conse-quential effort, which meant recovering ¯ our history. Some of us found that our communities were hardly living our full histories. I was astonished, for instance, to find out that St. Ignatius Loyola did not found the Society of Jesus all alone, but led a committee of friends in the Lord. to found the Company. (I have never been sure what that committee tells us about Jesuits.) One of the great consequences was a deep shift in leadership style from hierar-chical power to discerning authority, a genuinely splendid achieve-ment. Superiors decided that they were called, in Ann Ida Gannon's bold phrase, "for the service of [their] fellow religious.''~ They learned to be servant-leaders, adopting a leadership style that rejects power and governs by authority. So we began to reha-bilitate authority, and to reconnect the modern individualist to the community. Authority, which humankind always needs, is the ability so to arrange a lifeworld that those served by authority desire in great freedom to follow its decisions. Fully exercised, leadership by authority elicits and empowers the authority of every individual. For in its roots--note the Latin nounauct0r (originator, doer, author) and verb augere (increase)~authority names a human per-son's self-actualization and growth, which cannot happen to a person except in connection with a community. We need to pur-sue a difficult notion here: the concept of the self. Under the weight of modern individualism, we came to think of the self as isolated, estranged--all those anguishes of existentialism. We came to appreciate the self as having no extension, independent Fully exercised, leadership by authority elicits and empowers the authority of every individual. Septentber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life not only of our bodies but even of our experiences. We have all heard people say that they can "use their experience," as though it were a computer program. We have heard that a woman "has a right over her own body" as though it were something like a suit-case. Charles Taylor summarized all this as "the punctiliar self.''22 The self has become like a little point floating through our life-world, our own life history, our experiences, convictions, body parts. For our topic, the important thing to notice is that, when the conciliar renewal arrived, we were all thinking of the self detached from our own experience and over against the commu-nity. When one of us said "I personally think." he really meant "I individually think"--that is, over against the rest of society. For person had come to mean individual and had been cut off from society. Only during postmodernity, with its search for commu-nity, did we recover the truth that no human person can exist apart from the human community. We are not angels. We might note one final rather abstruse but intensely conse-quential point. The modern concept of self, split off in Catholic life from any adequate theology of ongoing creation, let us conceive of our autonomy as almost divine. That concept entailed both the "denial of death" that philosophers have noted in some cultures and also an attempt at repudiating creaturehood. Thus, many could retract their permanent commitments and their priestly vows: "It was not my true self." At the beginning of this century, theolo-gians wrote of a triad: God, man, and creatures. Listen to the incompleteness of the modernist expression in Canon Four of the Roman Missal: "You have created man and set him over all crea-tures." Not "over all other creatures"; just "over all creatures." After the council we in consecrated life once again began to hear all other creatures "speak to us in 'their own right," and it is not an accident that consecrated men and women have been leading the so-called "ecological spirituality" movement.23 Postmodernism and Expe~ience A thirdstory. In 1987 more thanfifty men from oneprovince made a retreat together. They listened to briefpresentations during the day and prayed in silence. In the evenings they sat around and talked about themselves: How did I get my vocation, what was the hardest obedience I ever faced, where has the cross been in my life? Each said what he wished to say, the young and the 6ld; no one answered another; no one Review for Religious was forced to speak. Ten years later the men still remember that expe-rience. It drew them into communion. They even found out that they liked one another. Describing postmodernity is like describing where you are in a vast desert. There are markers, of course; but they are very hard to discern. I particularly like a triad developed by philosopher Albert Borgmann, whom I have already cited: "For each of the modern principles a counter possibility is emerging: information processing in place of aggressive realism, flexible specialization instead of methodical universalism, and informed cooperation rather than rugged individualism.''24 This is a description of global culture, but perhaps you recognize these emerging experiences: Information processing: Once we worked by the rule; now we read the signs of the times and discern. Flexible specialization: Once we legislated apostolic work; now we inculturate, make the option for the poor, and try to keep faithful to our charism. Informed cooperation: Once our ideal of obedience was the blind man being led; now we dialogue, discern, and even as we are given a mandate we remember that we are, each of us, free men. This is conse-crated life in a postmodern world. We are not likely to comprehend the experience in any seri-ous way unless we accept that postmodernity sees experience as a construct of many elements. This construct is intentional (of and by and for and with other persons and things); derivative (from other experiences and other things); and dialogic (moving in and out, back and forth, between old self and new self). Let me take each of these marks of experience and suggest a thought or two about consecrated life. Constructed. Experience is constructed. It incorporates a past and moves into a future; it combines social, cultural, intellectual, emotive, aesthetic; it entails sensations, memories, desires, and perceptions. Thus, even Descartes's insight Cogito ergo sum--one of the deepest roots of modern individualism--was in a language (Latin) that many past and present spoke. He had the insight with a brain incorporating DNA from two other persons. He felt emo-tions and conviction. Every experience is thus constructed, so that George Schner can correctly claim, "There is a sense in which no experience is strictly 'mine.'''25 The experience of living a consecrated life is also, quite obvi-ously, a construct. Each of us had a unique experience when tak-ing vows, yet we used a formul~ used by thousands before us. And September-October 1998 Tetlow * The Experience of God in Consecrated Life we promised to live these vows accordi

Issue 54.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Mis'souri 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. ©1995Review 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 com~nercial 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 Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NVUMBER4 contents 486 499 5O8 mission Twenty Inner-City Years Joanna Bramble, CSJ explores feelings, questions, and insights from her effort to revitalize an inner-city neighborhood and empower its people. Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor Margaret MaW Knittel RSM raises some questions which suggest a fluidity of vision and a loosening of ties in regard to corporate sponsorship and the fruits of our labor. Retirement's Wisdom Years Catherine M. Harmer MMS proposes that retirement for religious may be a time of deepening wisdom and individuation and a time for a greater spirituality to emerge. 519 531 guidance The Enneagram Tad Dunne examines understandings of the enneagram and suggests ways of moving to a larger world of meaning and values. Imaging Spiritual Direction Mary Vginifred CHS discusses guidelines for spiritual direction and presents three images illustrative of the relationship between director and directee. 535 56O heritage The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs Mary C. Sullivan RSM highlights the prayer of personal conversion wi{h its many gifts as captured by Teresa of Avila in her rich metaphor of "dwelling places." Playing with Edged Tools Donald Macdonald SMNI allows the thought of John Henry Newman to enter us into a richer appreciation of vowed public profession as a part of radical gospel living. 482 Review for Religious spirituality 566 How Am I Doing? Signs of a Healthy Spirituality Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some indicators for checking on how healthy our spirituality is. 573 Appreciating God through Creation Roderick Payne OFM illuminates the heritage of St. Francis to draw attention to some aspects of prayer through creation. 585 589 594 6OO religious life Individualism and Rel!gious Life John Gallagher CSB reflects on three options dealing with the compatibility of contemporary individualism in relation to religious life. Psychological Screening for Religious Life Kevin E. McKenna reviews the help given by the Code of Canon Law for religious congregations attempting to form a consistent policy regarding psychological reports at the time of admission and the maintenance of personnel records. Reformulating the Religious Vows William Reiser SJ reviews the meaning of vows in religious life and suggests that an option for the poor might be a promise for our times. Let's Talk Again about Poverty Richard J. DeMaria CFC probes the meaning of poverty for religious-life practice today. ¯departments 484 Prisms 615 Canonical Counsel: Cloister for Nuns: From the Early Centuries to the 1917 Code 622 Book Reviews ~tuly-August 1995 483 prisms Pope John Paul's two recent docu-ments offer vision and direction: the apostolic letter Orientale lumen (The Light of the East) and the encyclical Ut unum sint (On Commitment to Ecumenism). More than helps to enter into the third millennium, they issue a call to conversion. In Orientale lumen the pope emphasizes that our Eastern Catholic and our Orthodox brothers and sisters are earnest bearers of a venerable and ancient tradition integral to the church's heritage. He calls for all members of the church's Latin tradition to become fully acquainted with this treasure. He desires us all to be fired by a pas-sionate longing that the church's catholicity become man-ifest to church members themselves and to the world, a catholicity comprising the several traditions together rather than in opposition to one another. John Paul uses monasticism as a special vantage point from which we can identify values important today for expressing the contribution of the Christian East to the journey of Christ's church towards the kingdom. In the East, monasticism, which did not experience the differ-ent kinds of apostolic life as in the West, is seen not merely as a separate category of Christians, but rather as a refer-ence point for all the baptized, according to the gifts offered to each by the Lord. John Paul singles out the common traits uniting the monastic experience of the East and the West and forming a bridge of fellowship, "where unity as it is lived shines even more brightly than may appear in the dialogue between the churches." lie empha-sizes the splendid witness of nuns in the Christian East: "This witness has offered an example of giving full value in the church to what is specifically feminine, even break- 484 Review for Religious ing through the mentality of the time. During recent persecu-tions, especially in Eastern European countries, when many male monasteries were forcibly closed, female monasticism kept the torch of the monastic life burning. The nun's charism, with its own specific characteristics, is a visible sign of that motherhood of God to which Sacred Scripture often refers" (9). Among the values reflected in monasticism for the life of the church, the pope highlights 1) a balance in Christian life lived as a personal response to an individual call and as an ecclesial and community event; 2) a liturgy revealing the proper harmony of the baptized-in-Christ and the eucharistic meaning of all creation; 3) a maturing journey in terms of knowing self and being free and able to love as Jesus loves; 4) a tradition of spiritual guidance from brothers and sisters to whom the Spirit has granted this gift; 5) a community showing us a life of communion and service beginning in the family and extending to the wider community; 6) a unity of theology and spirituality deriving from the triune God--the principle and foundation of the Christian understand-ing that the human person is meant for and made for relation-ship; and 7) an all-pervading mystery, enveloped in awe, with which the face of our God presents us. In still wider ways the encyclical Ut unum sint continues the call to deepen the unity we seek with one another and with God. Insisting that the unity of all Christians is God's will and is at the heart of the mission Christ entrusted to his followers, John Paul begs forgiveness for times when Catholics and the papacy itself have contributed to the divisions among Christians and calls for discussion about ways in which the pope can exercise power and authority in a reunited church. He notes that a heritage of saints belonging to all communities provides hope for the dialogue of conversion. "When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it not only the institutions, rites, means of salvation and the traditions which all the communities have pre-served and by which they have been shaped, but first and foremost this reality of holiness" (84). The urgency of building for the future out of the strengths of Christian heritages marks both of these papal writings. We, like the pope, need to set our sights on this unifying and evangelizing mission of all Christians, thereby living up to religious life's own spiritual heritages. David L. Fleming sJ a~uly-August 1995 485 rnissJon JOANNA BRAMBLE Twenty Inner-City Years After almost twenty years of working towards the revital-ization of West Oakland, a depressed inner-city neigh-borhood, I took a year's sabbatical of travel and spiritual enrichment. In the middle of that year, I decided not to return as director of Jubilee West, the Community Development Corporation I had helped to create. I real-ized that I had unresolved feelings about my years in West Oakland, feelings and questions that I needed to work through before I could move on to the next steps in my work for justice. The reflections below document my liv-ing with those questions. What are my usual feelings about Jubilee West? I feel proud of what it has accomplished, but often I feel deep sadness for the people whose lives have changed very lit-tle, especially the ones I knew well and tried the hardest to help. I feel deep sadness at the unemployment, the drugs, the depressed people, and the piles of garbage that are evident with only a brief drive through the neighbor-hood. I often have an overwhelming sense of failure and powerlessness: so much of my life, love, work, anxiety, joy, hope . . . and so many people still with such con-stricted lives! I feel sadness and grief that the neighbor-hood where I worked for so long was worse after twenty Joanna Bramble CSJ is a consultant to nonprofit organizations in management and program analysis and a member of the provincial council of the Los Angeles province of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. Her address is 529 Jean Street; Oakland, California 94610. 486 Review for Religious years than it was before. It is not that our work did not change anything or made it worse; it just could never do enough. But the main cause of continuing disintegration in that neigh-borhood is not my and others' lack of effort or creative ideas. It is high unemployment and the increasing sale and use of drugs, along with other systemic oppression. How do I keep aware of the interrelatedness of many situations and people and things and somehow see my place as both important and unimportant? What was the situation I came to in 1973? And what did I want to achieve? The 1970 census and the Oakland 701 Study gave the following statistics about the West of Cypress area: ¯ 80 percent black and 18 percent Mexican American ¯ median family income: $3,941 ¯ unemployment rate 26.3 percent for men, 35.7 percent for women ¯ 50 percent of families on welfare; mean welfare income $2,110 ¯ 90 percent of the houses had been expected to be unusable by 1969 (most of these houses are still standing in 1995) ¯ median number of school years completed: 8.4 ¯ 24 percent of people over twenty-five years of age were high school graduates Residents listed their major problems as limited incomes and a high rate of unemployment, extremely poor housing, and poor-quality education. All of these problems still exist and are complex and interrelated. I chose to come to this depressed environment from eleven years of teaching English in white, suburban Catholic high schools. I had interest, concern, compassion, energy, enthusiasm, high hopes . . . and two months of training in community orga-nizing. I remember walking through the neighborhood and mentally singing the words to "Anatevka" from Fiddler on the Roof, newly popular then. The song speaks of the nothingness of the town: "people who pass through Anatevka do not even know they have been here., someone should have set a match to this place years ago." That is what West Oakland looked like to me. But the song goes on to describe Anatevka as home: "where else could Sabbath be so sweet., where I know everyone I meet." That too was West Oakland. It did not take me long to get to know friendly people, many of whom had lived there for years. I walked the streets and .~ly-August 199~ 487 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years sat in people's kitchens to discuss neighborhood problems. Soon some longtime residents and I started the West Oakland Improvement Association. What did I want to achieve? Mainly, I did not want a repeat of Anatevka; I did not want people displaced to make room for gentrification or other forms of development. In 1974 I wrote that my major goal was to help increase the peo-ple's awareness of their power to direct their own lives. Over the next twenty years, I became more deeply aware of the immense problems in people's lives and in the physical neigh-borhood. What I wanted to do both stayed the same and evolved, as did the strategies we used. Always there was the goal of empow-erment. As a community organizer I wanted us to win on issues that people had chosen as urgent concerns. More importantly, I wanted to build an organization that could continue to empower people and revitalize the neighborhood. We won on many issues. Our victories brought pride and increased self-confidence to a number of neighborhood people. But building an organization never really happened. People seemed too concerned with per-sonal survival to stay involved very long. It became more and more difficult to talk with people about community problems when they were concerned with getting enough food for their kids, paying the rent, and dealing with drug problems. These survival issues prompted me and my good friend Sister Pat Sears to start St. Patrick's Center at the Campbell Village Housing Project, where we saw to basic necessities, providing food, clothes, counseling, and a youth program. But decent afford-able housing remained the most urgent problem. Concern about people who were being displaced or were living in substandard housing, inspiration from Jubilee Housing in Washington, D.C., lots of participation from neighborhood people and suburban friends, and awillingness to step into the unknown with faith and hope led me and Pat to start Jubilee West as a nonprofit Community Development Corporation in 1980. We immediately began to buy and fix houses for poverty-level people even though we knew nothing about real estate or construction and had almost no money. Jubilee West also continued and expanded the com-munity services and youth programs begun at St. Patrick's Center. What successes can Jubilee West celebrate over the last fifteen years? Eighty units of scattered-site housing, most of it perma-nently affordable to poverty-level families: five million dollars in property assets removed from speculation and able to be con- 488 Review for Religious trolled by the community far into the future; hundreds of children helped with tutoring and enrichment; many others helped with mentoring and private scholarships to attend college; hundreds of adults placed in jobs, coming to literacy and ESL classes, or receiv- .ing emergency food, clothing, and needed counseling; and an his-toric building rehabilitated to accommodate various community events and to house the offices for other services. When I left, Jubilee West had a committed board of directors, a staff of varying degrees of competence, and a good funding base, although financial crises were and continue to be frequent. So why do I frequently feel like a failure? Mainly because I very much wanted to do something "for the people in the houses" more than just fixing houses and lowering rents and because I feel that most people's lives are not changed very much from what they were before. As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never mar-ried, with three or four children from different fathers. She has about a tenth-grade education, has never held a paying job, has very poor nutrition, and probably has an alcohol or drug problem. If she is not in JW housing or other subsidized housing, she may pay as much as 60 or 70 percent of her AFDC income in rent, leaving her less than $200 per month for all other expenses. She has no car, and so her experiences and those of her children are mostly limited to the West Oakland neighborhood. She appears depressed and apathetic or else quite hostile. So what did I wantJW to do for this woman? I wanted us to empower her to enrich her own life. What did I mean by this? How would I hope to be able to describe her after a .few years? I have thought a lot about my hopes for her, and I recently became aware that they are similar to my unrealistic goals for myself: As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never married, with three or four children from different fathers. .~uly-/lugust 199~ 489 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years I want her to have succeeded in or be in the process of get-ting off drugs, getting more education, finding a job and then a better job, stabilizing her family, getting enough income to move out of subsidized housing, deepening her spiritual values, becoming more psychologically whole, building community with her neighbors, keeping her house clean, taking care of her kids, and working for change in the neighborhood through participating in JW and other organizations. I want her to stay in the neighborhood or come back after she succeeds in order to help the commu-nity work for justice. As I write this, it seems so unrealistic that I want to add face-tiously that she should also be thin and beautiful, but not care too much about her looks. Obviously, one reason I feel like a fail-ure is that I had very unrealizable expectations. Only a few peo-ple could achieve the hbove, and only with superhuman effort or lots of good luck. I wanted my "typical" person to be aware of her power to change and control her own life. That sounds like a good goal. But perhaps my biggest mistake was that I did not give enough conscious acknowledgment to the reality of systemic oppression. When she tries to change in other than very small ways, she runs up against huge obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult if not impossible for her to "control her own life." Only a few really "win" in her situation; but, because those few do win, she feels that she too should be able to win. She blames herself and society also blames her, telling her in many ways that it is her fault. In some ways I contribute to this when I talk about "self-help" without at the same time talking about systemic oppres-sion. Her self-blame does not give her more energy to "fight the system" and to make small and then larger changes in her life; instead it leads to depression, apathy, or hostility. Similarly my self-blame, my feeling myself a failure for not being able to empower her, does not give me more energy to fight the system; in me also it leads to depression, apathy, and sometimes hostility. Issues of injustice in economics, politics, and education are profoundly interrelated. A minimum wage that inserts working people into the poverty level without enough money to pay the rent, a business economy dependent on a certain percent of unem-ployment, thousands of job layoffs so that even many people with good educations are unlikely to keep their jobs that pay a living wage, unjust distribution of wealth including "hidden" subsidies 490 Review for Religious for the rich (whereby more money is "spent" on tax write-offs for interest on home-ownership loans than on all the housing programs for the poor), drug traffic that brings huge profits to a few wealthy people, a welfare system that discourages work, the worst schools usually in the poorest areas, housing thought of as an investment for profit rather than a home to live in, pervasive discrimination against minorities, especially African-American males--these are only a few examples of the interconnected sys-tems that cause my "typical" person's situation. I have known all this for a long time. Did I fail to keep it in my awareness because I felt I could do little about it and I like solvable problems? In any case, I concentrated on self-help pro-grams-- how soon I found that often they do not succeed either! Each person in any self-help program must "choose life" for her-self, of course, and begin to act on her own behalf while at the same time society, "the system," must stop oppressing her. Both are interrelated. But as I reflected on my Jubilee West experience, I still heard the same familiar inner voices of my own self-blame. If only I had been smarter, worked harder, tried something more creative, then I could have made a bigger dent in solving these problems. At this point I was fortunate to come across the book Surplus Powerlessness by Michael Lerner. Lerner first talks about real pow-erlessness, the reality of an unequal distribution of power in this society: If a small number of us try to change things, we will run up against a brick wall. In fact, even if millions of people were to engage in activity to change things, in the short run we would find our society very difficult to change. The brick wall is not just a subjective illusion. The basic fact is this: American society is a class-dom-inated society. A small number of people have vast eco-nomic power while the overwhelming.majority has almost no power in the economic realm. Economic power gives that small group a huge amount of political power. While the rest of us have some political power, it takes vast expen-ditures of energy and time to win small victories. But to say that the elites of wealth and power have over-whelming power is not to say that they have absolute power. Things could be quite different if many people were to engage in the struggle for change. It would be a real strug-gle- and there would be many difficult defeats.~ After talking about realpowerlessness, Lerner describes surplus ~uly-Augus~ 199Y 4.91 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years powerlessness as "the set of feelings and beliefs that make people think of themselves as even more powerless than the actual power sit-uation requires, and then leads them to act in ways that actually con-firm them in their powerlessness." He is describing me when he shows how many activists continually manage to redefine the con-ditions of success in such a way that they always feel "one down" for not having accomplished enough; they redefine their victo-ries as failures and do not credit their own real accomplishments. I certainly do that often. Lerner reminds us that when society claims it is set up in a fundamentally fair way, in which people can make it if they really try, powerlessness is seen as a product of the individual's personal failures. Thus self-blame becomes the central element in surplus powerlessness. It grows stronger every time we blame ourselves for having failed in some important way and have no compassion for ourselves in view of all the ways that reality pushes us to be less than we want to be. Taking responsibility for one's own life works only for the part of the population and for the societal issues where objective conditions allow for real change. People need help to distinguish between factors out of their control about which they could be legitimately angry and factors that would change if they changed how they thought about themselves and how they lived their own lives. Surplus powerlessness, self-blame, deflects attention from the real problems and hence from any real solutions. The anger that might be reasonably directed against a social order which gener-ates personal unhappiness is instead directed inwards and becomes depression or a dangerous buildup of repressed violence. But Lerner's next point is also part of my" experience. Once people are no longer disempowered by self-blaming, they are in a better position to change their environment. Surplus power-lessness can be lessened by supportive group interaction and by developing compassion, showing people that the problems they face do not come from personal inadequacies, but are faced by others as well, and that people need one another's help in facing these problems. My reflection on Lerner's concept of surplus powerlessness shows me that I have been blaming the victims, both my typical West Oakland person and myself. I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. 492 Review for Religious But, to avoid the extreme of blaming others for my problems, I frequently go to the extreme of not giving much acknowledg-ment to the real powerlessness in my life, to the real systems that are oppressing me as well as my typical West Oakland person. At this point in my reflection, I read Joanna Macy's books Despair and Personal Power and World as Lover, World as Self about the need to feel pain, experience it, work through it: my pain and the pain of others. I see that as a big clue for me. I went back to my sabbatical journal written in Washington, D.C., in 1992. One of the questions in Mary Cosby's class on "call" was "What is your deepest pain?" I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much personal pain. Actually my greatest pain seems to be feel-ing the pain of others: so many homeless people on the street, so many hurting children, so much violence in the world., and feel-ing powerless to do very much about any of this." A few days later at a creative-movement session I felt overcome by sorrow and tears. I kept feeling, saying, crying to myself: "I didn't know how to make it better for people. I am so sad about that ¯ ¯ . sad because people were not helped, not so much that I couldn't help but that they weren't helped., thinking of Sylvia, Spring, Connie, Deedee, Charetta, Pat, A1, Brenda . . . tears because I couldn't do it, but more because life did not change for them . " I remember feeling that I must be avoiding some deeper personal pain if the major pain I was aware of was pain for the world, for other people. Now I see that a major need for me is to feel my pain, which greatly includes pain for the world. Joanna Macy says in Despair and Personal Power: "We have trouble cred-iting the notion that concerns for the general welfare might be acute enough to cause distress., but pain for our world touches each of us, and this pain is rooted in caring., our apparent pub-lic apathy is but a fear of experiencing and expressing this pain, and once it is acknowledged and shared it opens the way to our power." 2 I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. July-August 199Y 493 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years During that semester in 1992, I picked up an old journal from 1988, specifically looking for how I dealt at that time with my pain over the distressing situations I experienced daily at Jubilee West. A pattern seemed to be: I would run into a small or large problem that was usually a symptom of a larger systemic problem; feel frustrated and ptwerless; think I should be able to solve it; blame myself because I could not; go to bed depressed, wake up with somehow more energy ready to try again, to think up some new way to address the problem . . . but rarely allow myself to really feel my own pain and sadness. Although many people were involved in Jubilee West, I always felt myself ultimately respon-sible. I also frequently neglected my deep need to gift myself with beauty and nourishment for my soul. I have always felt a great desire for silence, solitude, beauty, prayer--for finding ways to experience the sacred in all of life. But I often let compulsive efforts to solve problems rob me of the centeredness necessary for living and acting from a contemplative way of being. As a step in the process of"living the questions" and of writ-ing this article, I walked around the West Oakland neighborhood visiting some of my longtime friends. I had not been able to do this since leaving Jubilee West three years ago; when we moved away last fall, I just disappeared without telling many people that I was going. So this walk was a pilgrimage for remembering and finding cause to grieve and cause to rejoice. What do I learn for myself from all of this reading and reflec-tion and from my recent pilgrimage of walking in West Oakland? What does my inner wisdom tell me? What follows are some exploratory answers as I live the questions: 1. Feel your pain, take time for it. your personal pain and that of the West Oakland people that you care about, and the world that 'faces the possibility of total destruction. Allowing myself to feel pain is hard to do; I am more used to giving thirty seconds to pain and then moving on to possible solu-tions. But, on my walk through West Oakland, I was more able to be with the pain of what I experienced: my own fear when I went into Campbell Village by myself because of what I know of the violence, drugs, and crime that are always there; the usual mounds of garbage everywhere, especially in front of my friend Sally's apartment; Sally's son in jail for using and selling drugs--I remem-ber him as a cute, loving eight-year-old; the fifteen or twenty men on the corner of 14th and Peralta as they always are--drink- 494 Review for Reh~ious ing and buying drugs; Trisha's house boarded up because she was evicted for drug activity, when she had been one of Jubilee West's most promising tenants. 2. Feelyourjoy also and others' joy as well: celebrate small suc-cesses, continue the lifelong task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." My walk through West Oakland gave me many opportunities for experiencing joy. It felt good to remember all the times I have been in people's houses having coffee and conversation. My friend Joanne greeted me with a big hug, and we laughed over old times together. Two of her children are doing very well, she is enjoying her job taking care of hand-icapped people, she still feels empow-ered by the victories we achieved together many years ago, and her sense of humor is still spectacular. Annie also greeted me with open arms; she is an elderly woman who owns her own home and several oth-ers in the neighborhood, though all of them are in various stages of disrepair. As I sat in her tiny kitchen, she asked me who she could get to help her change her will, and I remembered how hard it was, many years ago, to convince her to make a will at all. My last stop was Charles Garcia, who because of our orga-nizing efforts scraped up $1,700 twenty years ago to buy the falling-apart house he was living in--a small amount, even in 1974, but monumental to him. Although he was not home, his pride of ownership was evident everywhere: lots of beautiful roses in the front yard, a stained-glass window over the door; his daugh-ter spoke of wanting to. move her own growing family back to that neighborhood. I was pleased to see that there was only one burned-out house on Chester Street, when there had been many a few years ago, and I felt pride as always at Jubilee West's twenty-two new-con-struction apartments on Goss Street, definitely the ~best-looking housing anywhere in the neighborhood. My experience of joy on my walk through the West of Cypress neighborhood brought home to me the truth of Joanna Macy's Celebrate small successes, continue the life-long task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." jUuly-August 199Y 495 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years words: "When we open our awareness to the web of life, we con-nect not only with the sufferings of others, but to the same mea-sure, with their gifts and powers . . . if we can grieve with the griefs of others, so, by the same token, by the same openness, can we find strength in their strengths, bolstering our own individual supplies of courage, commitment, and endurance."3 3. Acknowledge real powerlessness and systemic oppression. Deepen awareness of this as a reality check, as the main reason for not continuing self-blame, as a step to determining at which point to try to intervene. Catch yourself when you are blaming the vic-tim, whether that victim is yourself or someone else. 4. Acknowledge surplus powerlessness in yourself and in others, and try to find ways to deal with it, mainly by group sharing and by compassion for yourself and others. 5. Give up the myth that there is one key to changing the world. I have had the fantasy hope that there is one key to changing oppres-sive systems and that, if I could just find it, I would know what to do. Now I am more aware that transformation is happening on many levels at once and that it is not necessarily more important to work on one rather than another; I have lots of options for where I can best use my gifts to work for change. 6. Give up the myth that I am totally responsible (even when and if it is my job to be in charge), that I necessarily have the power to create the changes I want. Sometimes I have that power, often I do not. Any transformation will take many people working in many ways. A friend told me recently that she has become passionately committed to nudging the world toward justice and ecological san-ity. The idea of nudging shows a good grasp of reality and the pos-sible, and many people are doing this all over the world. 7. Give as much time as possible to the beauty, silence, and soli-tude that I so long for and know is essential to the life of my soul. My greatest desire is to act from a deeply contemplative stance. I do not always live that way, but I become more and more con-vinced that it is the only way to be who I am, to be at peace with myself and the world. Many questions remain as I come to the end of these reflec-tions, but hopefully every deepened insight leads to new possi-bilities and changes in my way of being, feeling, and acting. My questions will take more than my lifetime to answer. I am reminded of a vivid memory from a few years ago. I was in the midst of a crisis at Jubilee West, and I went to walk around the 496 Review for Religious lake to try to think of what to do. As I walked, I would come up with an idea about a next step, bu~ a voice in me kept asking, "What if you can't solve the problem?" I would be with that ques-tion for a few minutes and then start again to plan strategies. But the voice was persistent: "What if you can't solve the problem?" I have been brought up to believe that, ifI have a problem or see a problem, I should try to solve it. In fact, I very frequently have been able to find solutions to problems, to achieve what-ever I put my mind to achieve. Similarly, in World as Love~; World as Self, Joanna Macy quotes Lyndon B. Johnson as saying during the Vietnam War: "Don't come to me with a problem unless you have a solution." She tells of some colleagues in France who, ridi-culing our American culture for demanding instant solutions to problems, said we should "let the difficulties reveal themselves first before rushing for a ready-made solution, or else you will not understand them.''4 And so, as I walked around the lake struggling with the com-plexities of my crisis, the persistent voice asking "What if you can't solve the problem?" was actually a blessing. It pushed me to experience that often I cannot solve the problem. What is needed then is not more strategies, but waiting in openness: openness to the unfathomable presence, power, energy, connectedness in the universe, in me, in other people, and in all situations--which I call God. What is needed is sitting with open hands and open heart in deep silence and solitude, or dancing with abandonment to powerful music, or walking on the beach feeling the immensity of the ocean, or remembering my redwood tree. What is needed is anything that brings home to me the sacredness of all beings. I am remembering also the poem by Wendell Berry that I first saw on the kitchen wall at Genesis Farm, the environmental study center where I spent six weeks in the spring of 1992. It moved me deeply then and still does, giving me a powerful image of commitment to the possible in the darkest of times: "In the dark of the moon, / In flying snow,/. / The world in danger. / I walk the rocky hillsides / Sowing clover." I wonder what forms my clover will take? In looking through my 1991-92 .journal, I rediscovered another powerful image, a dream I had on 1 February 1992 and had forgotten. The image of wholeness in my dream links with Joanna Macy's wisdom about the interconnected whole in Despair and Personal Power: "What is it that allows us to feel pain for our Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years world? And what do we discover as we move through it? What awaits us there on the other side of despair? To all these ques-tions there is one answer. It is interconnectedness with life and all other beings. It is the living web out of which our individual, sep-arate existences have risen, and in which we are interwoven."s Deep implications of this dream are gradually surfacing as I continue to reflect on it more than three years later: I am in a house with many people., much chaos., there is a cupboard with a lot of jigsaw puzzles., suddenly they all fall out and come crashing down . . . so there are hun-dreds of puzzle pieces all over the floor., all from differ-ent puzzles . . . instead of feeling hopeless, like I would never be able to sort out the pieces and put each puzzle together again . . . in the dream I feel hopeful . . . like what was individual puzzles is now one big whole . . . and the challenge is to make a new picture in a new way. Soon after I wrote the pages above, my friend Sister Pat, cofounder of Jubilee West, died unexpectedly while we were vaca-tioning in Vermont. We had worked, argued, dreamed, planned, and enjoyed life together in West Oakland for nineteen years of a longer close friendship. Pat was "home" to me; now I feel like a homeless person. In my grief I have felt that God is burning himself into my soul, in intense pain and intense beauty. Was it in another lifetime that I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much per-sonal pain"? I am amazed that "Feel your pain" was one of my "exploratory answers." It has helped me take time for the sadness of my loss. I am hopeful that my pain will give me strength and wisdom to respond to the world's pain in new ways. My under-standing of my own "answers" is deeper than when I wrote them. Hopefully, I am more ready to keep working to create a new pic-ture, a new wholeness. Notes ~ Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness (Oakland: Institute for Labor and Mental Health, 1986). These and other quotations from Lerner are a combination of a variety of pages in this book. 2 Joanna Macy, Despair and Personal Power in the Nuclear Age (Baltimore: New Society Publishers, 1983). These quotations are a com-bination of a variety of pages in chapters 1 and 2. 3 Macy, Despair, p. 32. 4 Joanna Macy, World as Love~; World as Self(Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), p. 18. s Macy, Despair, p. 24. 498 Review for Religious MARGARET MARY KNITTEL Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor I alternate between thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. --Annie Dillard, "Sojourner" Mey mother had lived in this home, built by her father, ver since she was eighteen, and now sixty years later she was selling the stained-glass windows, the hardwood floors, everything. All went well but for that last moment holding all the pain. We walked away bearing the image of strangers in that beloved doorway, frame of four generations. Doorways of insti-tutions, too, owned and operated by generations of women reli-gious, hold countless emotionally freighted moments, and near the close of the 20th century the terms "corporate sponsorship" and "fruits of our labor" have become and remain inextricably bound. In one ethical frame come three questions that are relevant to these two realities, corporate sponsorship and fruits of our labor. The three questions suggest a fluidity of vision, a loo'sening of ties. The questions are: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who are we called to be? Who Are We? Over successive generations the corporately sponsored institutional ministry increasingly became for Catholic women religious in the United States their "hearth and garden," Margaret Mary Knittel RSM served as director of personnel services at Saint Xavier University in Chicago from 1981 to 1987. Presently, as a consultant for nonprofit organizations, she writes to us from I 1 Simpson, H; Geneva, Illinois 60134. ~uly-Aug~st 1995 499 Knittel ¯ Corporate Sponsorship the consummate fruits of their labor, our labor. Hospitals, nurs-ing homes, orphanages, .high schools, and colleges together form a litany of dedicated achievement, of the brick-by-brick accom-plishments of many dedicated women. Annie Dillard's feelings about this planet as hearth and garden and land of exile help identify three groups or generations of women religious who for a hundred years have owned and operated those institutions.1 These generations we shall call the exiles, the arrived, and the The first generation, the exiles, traveled from countries like Ireland, Germany, and Italy to North American mission lands. The second generation, the arrived (or arriv&s), lived in an at-homeness within their institutions in the burgeoning years. Now, in these closing years of the 20th century, we have a third gen-eration, the sojourners, seeking a new way to live their profes-sional commitments and their personal lives as vowed women religious upon finding themselves living in smaller and smaller groupings on a planet presenting challenges and opportunities their pioneering sisters in exile--their grandsisters--would not recognize. For the exiles--pioneers, all of them--the missions of the late 19th and early 20th century meant lives of physical sacrifice and economic deprivation well beyond the virtue or vow of poverty. Those women pieced together budgets, scraping their ingenuity for survival. Having come intent upon working hard, they strove to build hearths and gardens and kept striving and struggling, remaining and reminding themselves to be exiles at heart, women in a foreign land. Echoing the economy at large, the institutional ministries they had founded and maintained boomed after the lean years of the Great Depression. The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up edu-cational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. With increased settling in, this hearth of the religious women's profes-sional lives, this sponsored work, began for some to take on near-salvific powers. This hospital, this academy, began to hold terrestrial hopes and dreams, promised a salvation, and hinted of a this-side immortality. Plaudits, awards, and status were afforded to this generation of women who had arrived, who in some cases had left a humble family circle for what was increasingly becom- 500 Review for Religious ing an educated, secure middle-class community. They, we, by one definition indeed had arrived. For the arrived, their hospital or academy chapel began to localize the garden of the spirit. Here each morning and evening, all, regardless of professional status, gathered together at prayer. Here the contemplative "side" sought nourishment as the apostolic "side" waited just outside the chapel door. Hearth of work and garden of spirit, these became fix-tures within the corporate institu-tions cared for by the members of this second generation. Who Are We Becoming? In the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" the central figure, an exceedingly obese mother of four, says to her teenage son in a moment of reconciliation, "I never wanted to be like this." She had eaten her way to virtual immobility after her husband walked away from her and their children. Do we women religious, as this 20th cen-tury of ours draws to a close, gaze at our corporate body and say to ot~rselves, "We never wanted to be like this"? The founders of mis-sions here in the United States began on an inspiration to do good The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up educational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. in the sight of the God, and now, one or two hundred years later, their legatee corporate body has perhaps come to he something overly substantial: substantial hearth and garden, substantial fruits of our labor. These places, these institutions, became the symbolic body of our corporate identity within the church and the symbolic immortality within our destinies. Boards, philanthropic individ-uals, committees, friendships have been cultivated in the name of a hospital, an orphanage, or a school, and individual women's identities have been formed by and dedicated to bricks and steam pipes and windows. And then, as a distant window opened in the early 1960s and Vatican Council II convened, the corporate body ~ly-August 1995 501 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship began to be looked at and came into question: "Is this who we are becoming?" For some women and men, in and out of religious life, the signs of the times appealed to in the council documents began to replace the signs of success. The prophet Jeremiah's call to voca- Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. tion describes a people God observes burning incense to strange gods and "adoring their own hand-iwork" (Jr 1:16). The prophetic began to ease itself forward. The work of our hands, the fruits of our labor, came into question. Now, in these late days of the 20th century, the hearth lies gray with embers and the garden shows signs of late-summer exhaustion. Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. Worse, we know in our aging the lists of needs more acute, more violent, than our grandsisters might have dared imagine. With abuses crowding our culture into corners that seem to offer no choice, we acknowl-edge there has to be more to this journey. Who Are We Called to Be? Our third generation, the would-be sojourners, wonder at this late-20th-century hour: "Is this our time of exile? Shall we be graced to select to become sojourners. Selecting to be sojourners, to move from being securely settled to securely unsettled, recalls the, sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures showing us a people finding centers other than God. The king-dom, the temple, the land--here was the answer. No, not here, there. No, not there, here. Efforts to restore the earthly kingdom kept centering on realities other than God. But Yahweh contin-ued to insist. 502 Review for Religious Selecting to be sojourners calls us to know how to go into exile, how to travel. Traveling, what shall we pack? Timing, how to schedule transportation, stopovers? And we cannot forget those allowances of minutes and hours, those sponges of time, to absorb this unfamiliar territory, this plan, these new connections. We will not know the language, but will need to interact and relate with others in order to continue on the journey and will have to search our imaginations for ways to communicate constructively. Life will move more slowly even as we continually need to cope with myriad details. Knowing exile, we will know ourselves anew. A clock continues to tick, and while many individual women religious hear it, the instinct to muffle its sound remains. "Enough!" we hear. Our alternative thoughts drift to sojourning, but graying embers say "Enough." We lived through the changes of the 1960s and '70s immediately after the council. No more traveling, turning, leaving, remembering, forgetting, previsioning, refashioning, or paradigm shifting for us! Just leave me alone. Enough. Give me the basics for survival and let me live out my life, here. Give me my job, my position, my power. Give me space. But a clock continues to tick. Learning to Mourn Henri Nouwen has said, "Yes, we must mourn our losses. We cannot talk or act them away, but we can shed tears over them and allow ourselves to grieve deeply. To grieve is to allow our losses to tear apart feelings of security and safety and lead us to the painful truth of our brokenness. Our grief makes us experience the abyss of our own life in which nothing is settled, clear, or obvious, but everything constantly shifting and changing.''2 At issue here is whether or not women religious have the energy to mourn. There have been deaths--countless funerals, remembered rejec-tions, and downright hostilities and hatreds. Yes, death seems to have been an integral part of this life once so much idealized--the youth and the joy! But, through all of these deaths, have we short-circuited a certain human pathos, admixing theologies and spiri-tualities, being at times more stoic than Christian? Several weeks after the death of my mother, an acquaintance asked, "How are you doing?" An incident, fresh that day, helped me to describe a way of being that I would later learn is common to us and may be where the corporate person of religious life .~ly-Auguyt 1995 503 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship finds itself today. I told him of my standing in the middle of a room that morning, about to clean, but not knowing what to do next. My emotional energy was somehow separated from me as a person. As women religious, do we stand in the middle of a room and not know how to clean it, with our individual and corpgrate emo-tional energy elsewhere? Solneone has said, "Leaders are people who do the right thing; managers are people who do things right.''3 Is there a sense that somehow our corporate energy has separated itself from the corporate body so that with our corpo-rate leadership we continue doing things right rather than doing the right thing? Walter Brueggemann has observed that "reli-gious practitioners are often easy and unwitting conspirators with such denial. We become the good-humor men and women, for who among us does not want to rush in and smooth things out, to reassure, to cover grief?.''4 Rush in, smooth out, reassure--sounds familiar. What and where are the deep-down places in which we will individually and corporately rejoin our emotional energies, find ourselves? While sometimes we feel sublimely practiced in the various forms of grief, having experienced death in many forms, have we mourned? Have we cared enough about ourselves individually and corporately to let in the slow, mysterious loneliness, the ever changing healing of life after a death, a shocking, numbing death, has occurred? This work of mourning looks not only to the past but also to the future, fully realizing that new steps must be taken. The ability to bear wholesome and healing grief is every bit as much a fruit of our labor as the most imposing achievement of our corporate endeavors. Who are we called to be in this late 20th century, and is God directly and immediately in charge? Given our status and our connections, have we--women religious who have arrived--cor-porately capitulated to others' being in charge, someone else's agenda. "The task of the prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord.''s We come through the numbing to learn from a God in charge that the fruit of our labor may be "only" to know Jesus the Christ once again as way, as truth, as life. In this late 20th century, the fruits of our having arrived carry the exotically sweet flavor of success taken for granted and of 504 Review for Religious controlling power. In some instances we think it necessary to cling to these fruits with an even tighter grip. What sadder use of our time than participating in meetings with unseen forces with a view to reconstituting yesteryear rather than working with hope for tomorrow! Is there true conversation within our communi-ties, or merely some talk while waiting for followers to follow? Whether we would speak with Brueggemann's "prophetic imagination" or Philip Keane's "moral imagination," can we imag-ine imagining? Keane has said, "Communities as well as persons need t6 develop moral character and exercise moral imagination as they seek to address the great issues of our times.''6 When a loved one dies, a significant part of our grieving may involve imagining the future without them. We have known and loved them, but deep down we grieve for ourselves in an unknown future--a birthday or a Christmas--without their presence. We deeply miss this lost past. The exile has begun, with or without us. We need to acknowl-edge it, learning more and imagining more about what it means to mourn. We will be sojourners, like our grandsisters before us, leaving the comforts of home, however we currently define and hold on to them. "A number of factors can hinder persons from being genuinely reflective and playful in their moral thinking," says Keane; "power or force is one such factor.''7 Shall we become more reflective, more playful, and imagine leaving our present "homes" of wrongfully constructed political power, of oppressive behaviors? What prevents us from asking: Who are we? Who are we becoming? and Who are we called to be? The answer from some, if not all, may lie in these processes of the prophetic, these questions. Land of Exile: Corporate Sojournership "Fairly often," says Keane, "I run into persons whose image of God is that God is out to get us. Such persons want to be told what to do, and they are afraid of using their moral imaginations. Their religious or prayer lives will often be quite limited because their fear keeps them from really being open to the power of the Gospel stories.''8 As women religious we seek the courage to imag-ine and do corporately what many individual women and men have already wrestled with in their lives. We need, corporately, to turn in the keys, have a good cry, and move on. 3~uly-Al¢g'ust 199Y 505 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship Turning in the keys does not necessarily mean a wholesale closing of eacli and every institution. Some would like that, but it could indeed prove shortsighted and definitely unimaginative, even though some say the community's need for money is a good reason for selling this hospital or that academy and others say, "If we sell, we would be doing something holy." Abandoning an inner-city hospital without recourse to imaginative possibilities of how this long-cared-for space--the land's square feet and the buildings' cubic feet--could now serve the poor better might well become a new urban tragedy. We will need to go after anew, with all the civic clout that our years of being respectable arrivges can muster, the neighborhood's endemic and systemic problems. The friends of our institutions of the past may not choose to be the companions of our sojourning in the years ahead. But, together with those who would stay with us, we n~ed to find out who we are called to be. In any new land such as the future, there will be questions, then some answers, and then new questions. Our bequest, the fruits of our labor--whether embodied in our present corporate buildings and our present apostolic endeavors or not--must always be directed towards common goods that our corporate resources and corporate energies can hope to accomplish. People reflecting on the conversion to which all of us are called expect that the hearth and garden that halve come down to tis from a former time, these substantial signs of our having arrived, will increasingly suggest to us new common and corpo-rate lives of sojourning exile. These and similar questions will keep occurring to us: How will we use the power and influence we have? What could the prayer of our community be like? How will we imagine and live appropriate ways of coming together and being together--or of being together and going out together? What can we do most effectively for the coming of the kingdom? Shall we be women of vision, corporately attending to the good? Shall we corporately prepare in earnest to live in exile, to be sojourners, persons consciously and deliberately ready for the journey that begins and ends in God? Notes l Annie Dillard, "Sojourner," in Teaching a Stone to Talk (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 150. 506 Review for Religious 2 Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Hearts Burning (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 27. 3 Warren Bennis, Why Leaders Can't Lead (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 18. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic hnagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 49. s Brueggemann, p. 49. 6 Philip S. Keane, Christian Ethics and Imagination (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 104. 7 Keane, p. 107. 8 Keane, p. 107. Tourist Your T-shirt's stamped in letters large across your chest: KATMANDU. Your bike is labeled with a hundred road resorts. Your car is dotted round with all your touring triumphs . So, why not take another route today? A low-cost tour to that other inner world inside. Stay quiet by that vast unbounded inner ocean in your mind. Dive, swim and surf. Fly free. Ride high the inner waves of thought and feeling endlessly exhilarated, or delve into the dark and secret untrod cavern of your soul. Discover now the mystery of creation; confront the abyss unending of your own nothing-self becoming. And meet in that remote mysterious empty temple, far inside, your God. Cothrai Gogan CSSP .y~uly-August 199Y 507 CATHERINE M. HARMER Retirement's Wisdom Years One of the recurring discussions at assemblies and chap-ters of religious revolves around the rising median age, the need to care for our elderly, and more subtly the growing costs of such caring. The issue is an important one in that most United States congregations have median ages over sixty. An examination of congregational budgets shows that increasingly large amounts of money are dedicated to the care of the elderly. The National Conference of Catholic Bishops has been sponsor-ing a special collection for aging religious that people contribute to with great generosity, but it covers only a small part of the actual costs. A visit to the motherhouse of almost any group of sisters will show that a large part of what was housing for novices in the past is now dedicated to the aging members. Some motherhouses have very fine infirmaries for the sick elderly. There is no question that religious leaders are making great efforts to provide the best they can for their members through all stages of life. I would like, however, to examine two aspects of that effort. The first has to do with the nursing-home care that many of the sick elderly need. The second has to do with the concept of retirement for religious and the way it has been handled over the last twenty years or so. The Sick Elderly The first topic is the simpler one and will get less treatment in this article. In the care of our sick elderly, the emphasis has Catherine M. Harmer MMS wrote "Election: A Call to Service" for our September-October 1994 issue. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 508 Review for Religious been changed from the simple caring for them "at home" that was possible when the median age was much lower and the num-ber of elderly religious was either smaller or relatively smaller. When that was the case, at the motherhouse a small staff assisted by novices and postulants could care for them in much the same way that a family could take care of any sick or elderly member of it. Gradually, as the numbers increased and the sick elderly lived longer, a more professional model, that of the nursing home, became more common. As this was happen-ing, the percentage of vigorously active members was decreasing. At present, in most of the retirement facilities I have visited over the years, the staff is largely lay with very few religious among them. In some very large congrega-tions, with several hundred sick elderly members, the facilities com-pare well with any licensed nursing home, often providing much better care and definitely offering more loving care than in the average nurs-ing home for the laity. In smaller congregations the attempt to pro-vide quality nursing care results in Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercon gregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their members in general nursing homes in their area. small facilities that are as expensive to maintain as considerably larger ones would be. In some cases a nursing staff (composed mainly of nurse aides) that could care for thirty patients is taking care of ten or fifteen, sometimes fewer. As congregations face the heavy financial drain, there is a movement toward collaboration among the congregations in a geographic area. This is a positive development that could lead to good care for the religious and lower financial costs. Some groups that have larger facilities are opening them to other congrega-tions. Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercongregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their mem-bers in general nursing homes in their area. All of these steps are difficult. Often the members of a con-gregation are very unwilling to have their elderly cared for away .~dy-August 199Y 509 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years from their own motherhouse. At times the elderly themselves feel that they are being mistreated by being separated from their tra-ditional homes. Only a few consider it a good thing to be in a nursing home of mixed patients, men and women, religious and lay, in spite of the pastoral potential of such a model. The efforts of leaders and the combined efforts of congrega-tions to deal with both the physical realities and the psychologi-cal and religious values are important ones. Key for the leaders will be understanding, patience, and collaborative stances. For the members, those who are elderly and those who are not, it is important to develop an acceptance of the reality they face and a willingness to keep their last days congruent with what has gone before. I suggest that this requires ongoing education for every-one and a spirituality that looks at one's last days as continuous with the dedication of earlier days. Religious Retirement In our efforts to prepare one another for "retirement," we may have bought into a model that was emerging after World War II and continues to develop in terms of what aging and retir-ing are all about. This brings me to the second topic, the one which will constitute the major portion of this article. It is all the more important because it bears upon the first as well. It has to do with how we are viewing retirement. I believe that we have accepted a way of looking at retirement which is increasingly being challenged in the population at large and that we need to study it in the light of what our entire religious life is about. Several aspects of this model of retirement raise new questions. The current model in the United States assumes that people will retire at sixty-five if not earlier. When Social Security became a reality in the 1930s, life expectancy was lower, many people did hard physical labor and had relatively poor nutritional histories, and their hope was simply that at retirement they could stop working without worry about becoming dependent on their chil-dren or "ending up in the poorhouse." Today life expectancy is much higher, and the reality is that many people stay active, healthy, and alert for twenty years and longer after they retire. A second aspect, then, is that retirement is a time of not work-ing and, instead, spending one's time and energy at play of one sort or another. (Married women often have less of the play since 510 Review for Religious they are still expected to do the work of keeping up the home.) A problem here is that many retired people soon become bored with the play aspect. Some move toward part-time jobs or vol-unteer work, while others become captives of the television or the endless bingo games of our less creative senior centers. A third aspect of the current model that deserves examina-tion is the tendency to move away from the place where most of life was spent. This sometimes has to do with seeking a warmer climate or more economical housing. The result is that, as peo-ple age, they are out of regular con-tact with their family and must develop new friends. Even the elderly who manage well on their own in their original home are often under pressure from relatives and friends to find a smaller place-- which often takes them away from the community in which they have close ties and away from some sig-nificant activities that they could otherwise keep up. People are living longer while remaining physically and mentally vigorous, and yet the model of retirement continues to treat them as if they cannot do anything but play. What is being lost is the opportunity for them to contribute to family, to friends, to com-munity, in a different way than during their working years, but a way that is significant and needed. What is being lost to society at large is the accumulated wisdom of the elderly, a loss our soci-ety cannot afford. It would be a shame for religious congregations to follow the national model for retirement too closely. While few if any con-gregations have fixed ages of retirement from major involvement in ministries, there has been a subtle movement over the last few decades to start "thinking about retirement" while the religious are in their fifties. Without necessarily meaning to do so, this has too frequently led to a mentality that places retiring somewhere in the sixties, even if there is no real reason to do so. I have vis-ited motherhouses where some of the sisters appear to have retired Although the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. J-uly-dugust 199Y 511 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years far too soon and are desperate for some way to be involved in ministry. Mthough the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. Especially in motherhouses, which tend to be out in the country or relatively isolated, this leads to a combination of small tasks around the motherhouse, activities that mimic the senior citizens' centers, and some increased emphasis on the spiritual life without much attention to how that might be different at this stage of life. Often when I talk with the retired themselves I find a deep longing for two things: to find some meaningful part-time min-istry and to explore what spiritual life means at this latter stage of life. When retirement takes place at a motherhouse, you find the same isolation from community that the lay elderly experience who move to Florida. While most religious have lived and worked in a number of places, there was always the parish, the school or hospital, sometimes the neighborhood, as a framework for involve-ment and support. This is now gone, and the beautiful grounds of the motherhouse, the special facilities, and sometimes the large numbers (for those, notably, who were used to smaller groups) are no substitute for what has been lost. Religious do not, on the whole, do a lot of complaining, but the sense of loss is often heard in the undertones of a conversation. We hear ". everything is so nice here., everyone is so kind . . . but."--and the long-ing is very real. I am increasingly convinced that elderly religious should, whenever possible, have the same choices as the younger members. This stage of life is important, and it needs to be rec-ognized as such. In the remainder of this article, I want to address two impor-tant things about aging and retirement for religious: (1) the sec-ond half of life as a time of deepening wisdom and individuation, a time for a greater spirituality to emerge, and (2) the role of elderly religious in continuing the mission of Jesus. For many ideas here, it will be evident that I am indebted to Carl Jung, but also to a fascinating book by Jane R. Pr~tat on the croning years (1994). As I read her book, I found myself dwelling on several ideas: that our society wastes the wisdom of the elderly at a time when we need it most; that aging is not just something that hap-pens, but a part of the whole picture of life; and that much of 512 Review for Religious what is wrong in contemporary ways of looking at and dealing with aging in general are found also in regard to aging among religious, especially in how we treat the reality we call "retire-ment." The Second Half of Life Some years ago a large number of articles, workshops, and counseling programs focused on a particular transition seen as noteworthy, the "mid-life crisis." This concept seems, from a Jungian point of view, relevant to the developmental model's tran-sition from the first to the second half of life. This division into two halves does not have a chronological point, just ~s mid-life cannot be tied to a specific number of years of life. The first half of life is devoted to infancy, childhood, and young adulthood inso-far as these parts of life have to do with coming to know the world around ourselves, coming to an understanding of who we are as separate from our parents, learning, developing a working career, and moving to success within that career. At the midpoint, we might wake up in the morning and ask: Is this all there is to life? How we answer that question may indicate if the second half of life is about to begin. If the answer is "Yes, this is it!" we could spend the rest of our life simply as a continuation of the first half until death. If the answer is "No, there is something more!" we could enter into the second half of life. In the second half of life, the tasks shift to integration of the parts that have been separated during the first half, the move-ment toward individuation, coming to know ourselves in a dif-ferent way, and the decision to move toward wisdom. The "wise old man" and "wise old woman" archetypes begin to emerge dur-ing the early part of this second half of life. I believe that many people make the shift to the second half of life without ever hear-ing about Jung or his developmental theories. They recognize that something is changing in themselves, and they move with those changes. Some of the "play" elements of retirement--the programs for senior citizens that involve bingo, excursions, and hobbies--could be considered a return to an early part of the first half of lifel Now that we have done our work, earned our pension, we can again become the children whose task is play. For people with a limited field of interests, this may mean watching television for ffuly-August 1995 513 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years As we age; there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. long hours of the day and night. This is to remain in the first half of life, possibly until death, without ever taking the step into the second half. For other people, the leisure activities are part of their under-standing of where they are in terms of age, but other aspects also begin to emerge. Spending time with their children and grand-children can be a way of being the elder who is communicating the lore and the wisdom of life. This is a second-half activity and one much needed in today's culture, in which single-parent families and families with both parents working are becoming the norm. Contact with the older generation, with grandparents, . uncles, and aunts, which for long years was the norm, now is the excep-tion in many families. Wisdom also has to do with com-ing to a deeper knowledge of God, a greater and deeper integration of the spiritual life. For many people, life has been so busy, so full of duties, that the spiritual life was relegated to a set of rituals honored on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis. As we age, there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. In some cases it is connected with daily Mass for people who during their working years were quite con-tent with the Sunday Mass; it may mean a return to some of the religious practices of childhood; sometimes it is :a search for deeper intimacy with God. This longing belongs to the wisdom quest of this second stage. Religious, hopefully, have not stinted on their attention to the spiritual and to God's presence all through the active first half of their life. Yet the sense that the latter half of life has some-thing special to offer is found among them as well. One cannot deny, though, that some religious at this stage seem to put i:he haain emphasis on play. Their way of playing may be different, but it is still play and may involve television, novel reading, trips to the casino with the senior citizens' group, and considerable family visiting. 514 Review for Religious As a country we have to explore how to make the wisdom of the elders available to our children and to our busy adults. In the extended family of the past, this happened very simply. At one time in my childhood, I went every Friday after school to my grandparents' home so that on Saturday morning I could help .my grandmother with some of the cleaning she found difficult to do. What I remember most is conversations after supper on Friday with my grandfather, who told me the stories of his youth when he was an organizer of the unions in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. I also remember listening to music on the radio, and all three of us reading our separate books or magazines. Elderly religious off in motherhouses and retirement centers lose their easy contact with yoilnger religious, lose casual opportunities to share their wisdom with them, just as grandparents nowadays are often in other states where spending time with their grandchildren is no longer 'possible. In some motherhouses there are now prayer centers and renewal centers that give workshops and courses for sisters and lay people who are interested. At one point I had a constant flow of their catalogues coming across my desk. Fine as many of these centers are, I rarely saw anything that addressed the need for exploring the spirituality of the latter half of life, of the retirement years. Yet in those same houses I often met older sisters who longed for scripture study, for prayer assistance, for some way of understanding and developing the spirit life for this special part of their earthly sojourn. Some Strategies for the Second Half of Life It seems to me, then, that there are two things leadership would do well to do~ (1)to make it possible for elderly religious (granted their varying degrees of diminished energy) to continue to be involved in meaningful ministries that connect with the congregation's charism and mission and (2) to make conscious efforts to help the elderly religious move through the integrative work of the second half of their life in a way that is just as appro-priate as the novitiate training was for the first half. ., I live in a parish at present where more than half of the sis-ters in the local convent are well into the second half of their life and thus are no longer able to be involved full-time in the min-istries of their congregation. The congregation is a teaching one, jg~uly-August 1995 515 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years staffing many parish and,diocesan schools. A few of the sisters teach in the parish school, others commute to diocesan high schools, and the older sisters are engaged in time,limited but very vital ministries, These include teaching and tutoring in the adult literacy center, tutoring children from the grade school, and vis-iting elderly shut-ins 'in the neighborhood. None of these are full-time involvements. In some cases the sisters go to the school, in others the students come to them in the convent. Whenever I meet with these women, I am struck by the joy and peace that are obvious in them. Not everyone can be placed in a parish convent. Some of our elderly need to be in places like motherhouses where their greater physical needs can be provided for. It is sometimes possible to bring ministries to these motherhouses and at the same time pro-vide a wonderful service to others. I have been to motherhouses where there was day care for children in some parts of the build-ing and day care for ~he elderly in other parts. Two wonderful things happened there daily. The children and the elderly spent some time together every day, and both benefited by the experi-ence. The staff of both facilities had "assistants" from among the retired sisters who, like the women in my parish, could not work full-time, but could be counted on for blocks of time on .a regu-lar basis to help with both groups of day-care clients. o To keep our religious involved as long as possible has another imp.ortant benefit. Most o£ the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. We have wonderful examples of very elderly people maintaining their mental and physical capacities long past the expected time and making contributions to art, 'literature,. and the commonweal. Even more important, this is a time when .religious can begin to share the wisdom that has come to them with age, experience, and deep reflection on the meaning of life. This is a wisdom that is very much needed in our culture, a wisdom that too often the children and young peo-ple do.not find around them. Religious can become, in~ a very real way, the grandparent figures ifi their parishes, neighborhoods, and institutions. This is the wisdom of experience joined with reflec-tion upon that experience. 0 The second thing needing attention from leadership is the effort to help religious .use their latter years creatively in order to move toward the union with God that has been such a part of our 516 Review for Religious thinking throughout life. Many of the forms of prayer and spiri-tuality that are helpful to members of active religious congrega-tions during their early and middle years are apostolically oriented. Appropriately, the religious appreciate seeing a close connection between their ministry and their spirituality. The inner life and the outer life are integrated, ideally, in a rich and vibrant way. Changes take place as religious move through the early years of the second half of life. Spending less time and energy in direct apostolic efforts, they have more time for more leisurely ways of praying. They are ready for the next stage of devel-opment of their inner life. Their focus at this stage is somewhat different from that of their early and middle years. It has within it many of the same elements, but also some new ones. In this stage the elderly may desire to recall or renew some of the things they learned in earlier years, but did not have time to savor and assim-ilate. Frequently they speak of their desire for scripture classes, for prayer workshops. These can be useful, but they need to be focused clearly and carefully on the latter years. Now the emphasis is not on quantities of information, but rather on depth, on quiet composure and integration within each individual's inner reality. The wisdom years are the time when the. "wise old woman" and "wise old man" archetypes come to the fore. While the wis-dom can be for oneself, it is even more for others. At this stage there is not likely to be any necessity to go out and preach or teach, but there should be a simple and peaceful realization that the wisdom being garnered is also for others. This is why it is important during these years: for religious to have two areas of concern: one for the continuing development of the wisdom that has been growing in them over the years, and the other for shar-ing that wisdom, very simply and directly, with others. As religious move along through this final stage of life, it is essential that they have the assistance they need to foster the growth of their inner life, to be more open to wisdom, and that they have opportunity to share it with others. Thus, the ending of Most of the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. ~uly-August 199Y 517 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years life can be as full and as rich spiritually as any of the earlier stages, and it can be lived out in a truly mission-centered way. This will enrich the lives of the elderly religious themselves, but also of those who are yearning for that wisdom and do not yet know where to find it. It will bring a fullness to the lives of the "retired" and of those around them. It will be a far happier period than one given to play, television, and various excursions. Religious have frequently been the pacesetters in ministry. Perhaps it is time for the "retired" religious to begin to model to other retirees a richer, fuller, and more outwardly directed wisdom retirement. References Johnston, Charles M. Necessary Wisdom: Meeting the Challenge of a New Cultural Maturity. Seattle: ICD Press, 1991. Pr~tat, Jane R. Coming to Age: The Croning Years and Late-Life Transformations. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1994. Exposition Bless you, caress you~ enfold and possess you. Blessed by you, caressed by you, enfolded within you. Possessed. Chris Mannion FMS 518 Review for Religious TAD DUNNE The Enneagram Since the. early 1970s, religious educators, spiritual men-tors, retreat directors, and, most recently, management trainers have been talking about the "enneagram." 1 The theory proposes that each person is hooked by one of nine psychological compulsions--similar to the seven "capital" sins in classical Christian literature? Dozens of authors. and lecturers nowadays are teaching the theory to help people discover which of the nine compulsions is theirs and bow to accomplish their psychological liberation from it. The nine types are often referred to in caricatures: the Perfectionist, the Helper, ~he Status Seeker, the Sensitive Artist, the Observer, the Accuser, the Planner, the Bully, and the Slug.3 To edch of these descriptions, enneagram teachers attach longer descriptions of phobias, ambitions, expectations, learning style, sexual dynamics, management style, virtues, prides, blind spots, fixations, senses of time, and so on. The r~lations among the com-pulsions are represented by a circle whose circumference is numbered, at nine equidistant points. Within the circle is a triangle drawn from points three to six to nine. Also within the circle is a folded hexagon drawn through the Tad Dunne is an adjunct professor of medical ethics at Marygrove College, Detroit, and a management consultant for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Michigan. He has published Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco) and Lonergan and Spirituality (Loyola University Press). He may be addressed at 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. guidance July-August 199Y 519 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram cycle 1-4-2-8-5-7-1. This strange figure has become the logo of the enneagram system. Enneagram and Myers-Briggs People often compare the enneagram to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which classifies sixteen personality types accord-ing to one's preference for ways of noticing experience and mak-ing decisions. The chief difference between them is that the Myers-Briggs instrument indicates personal preferences, all of which are psychologically normal, while the enneagram indicates pathologies. That is, in the Myers-Briggs'all the types are healthy, while in the enneagram all the types are sick. So the Myers-Briggs is useful for accommodating one's own thinking style with col-laborators'; it helps groups identify the preferences for ways of learning and evaluating that exist,among their members and to deploy their relative .strengths accordingly. The enneagram, in contrast, is useful for identifying neuroses, mostly in oneself. The Myers-Briggs indicator, rooted in Jungian psychology, carries a positive attitude toward human consciousness, whereas the ennea-gram, rooted partly in Freudian psychology, takes a more suspi-cious stand. Few psyqhologists, however, rely on either tool for diagnostic purposes, because of an absence of empirical studies that correlate with validated' tests. Among other helping professionals, the Myers-Briggs indi-cator enjoys a wider and less controversial reputation than the enneagram. The sixteen preferences are easily understood; one can readily find Jung's comments on people's preferences between extraversion and introversion, between sensate observation and intuition, and between thinking and feeling.4 The enneagram, in contrast, has sources shrouded in arcane knowledge from a cor-ner of the Sufi tradition unknown to most Sufis and from George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a self-styled visionary from Russia with dubi-ous credentials. The many enneagram books and tapes that have been published in the last decade tend to describe each of the nine compialsions in dogmatic terms--a style of presentation that allures some but alienates others,s 520 Some Positive Aspects of the Enneagram One of the most disturbing claims made by enneagram devo- Review for Religious tees is that these nine types cover the total human range of com-pulsions. Not ten, not eight.6 There are subsets among the nine, but these supposedly cover all possibilities. Devotees base this claim on an unfamiliar model of personality and on the ennea-gram logo, whose origins are untraceable.7 But what is really dis-turbing is that, despite the dogmatic claims of the theory and an absence of experiment-based research, it is difficult to find any-one who fails to fit one of the types. Enneagram fans in the help-ing professions, after years of working with the tool, feel that these nine are just about right. And individuals claim that the enneagram has helped them to reach a deeper understanding of their personal compulsions than any other self-help system has, In other words, this weird, unempirical, upsetting, gnostic, and mys-tifying map of the psyche seems to work. In 1990 Claudio Naranjo MD published Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker. Enneagram students were eager to read what he had to say, since he led the development o_f the the-ory among English-speaking publics. His book, the smallest I know of on the subject, builds the theory on much more solid ground. That book is now out of print, but has been incorpo-rated in Naranjo's new and expanded volume, Character and Neurosis, published in 1994. Naranjo lends legitimacy to the theory in several ways. Unlike most other enneag.ram authors, who tend to pile adjective upon adjective and style upon style to cover the many variations possi-ble within each compulsion, Naranjo,keeps the set of descriptors limited. He wants these descriptors to function the way they func-tion in clinical manuals such as the DSM tli, namely, as a list of discreet phenomena sufficient to distinguish one type from another? By describing diseases with as little overlap as possible, he enables therapists to spot the core problem more quickly and waste less time on manifestations of the problem shared with other compulsions. Naranjo also takes pains to make a distinction between pas-sions (anger, envy, gluttony, and so forth) and the cognitive errors that underlie each passion. These errors amount to uncrit-ical assumptions about what life is like--the kind of oversimpli-fied worldview (and subsequent inappropriate adaptive routines) that Ellis deals with in his rational-emotive therapy.9 By pin-pointing cognitive errors, Naranjo believes, a person can iden-tify and dissolve his or her pet myths in order to rob the j~uly-August 199~ 521 Dunne * The Enneagram corresponding passion of its rationale and thereby weaken its grip on the psyche. Another contribution Naranjo makes to the theory is that he consistently explains the psychological dynamics at work in each compulsion, rather than just stating them. By appealing to his readers' understanding rather than their memory, he invites them to consult the workings of their own psyches to verify the pres-ence of certain subconscious routines. This is no small achievement. The mind is easily content with a notional familiarity with terms. Only under the whip of intel-lectual desire will we push forward to uncover for ourselves some of our psychic gremlins that have never seen the light of con-sciousness. Likewise the heart is easily comforted with comfort-able feelings; it takes an inner discipline, responsible to no one but oneself, to face up to the discomforts of acting responsibly. In my limited experience of teaching the theory, I found that many students find it too difficult to allow the teaching to break through their automatic defenses and deal with their hidden fears and cravings. The enneagram doctrine just feeds a ravenous compul-sion. So the Status Seeker uses the enneagram to advance her own reputation. The Observer uses it to gather yet further infor-mation before he ventiares out into the world. And so on. Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learn-ing. The work, however, is for people on a personal mission-- those who possess enough self-knowledge to know they are learners in the school of self-knowledge. Much of Naranjo's prose envisions a therapeutic setting in which a seeker looks to a men-tor for guidance. The aim of the therapy is not to settle what our basic compulsion is, as if from that point on we know what box we are in. The therapeutic outcome is not to identify a conceptual scheme that sometimes describes our behavior. The desired out-come is to understand specific experiences of being not our best selves, using conceptual schemes as initial indicators of what may be causing the trouble. This is why it is important to hold the enneagram types at arm's length. Although some people seem to fit a single type per-fectly, others seem to fit several types. Are these latter persons-- whose self-deceit eludes everyone's analysis--all the while being victims of only a single compulsion? Or have they really developed several distinct alternatives to authentic living? Practically speak- 522 Review for Religious ing, it makes no difference so long as users rely on the ennea-gram as nothing more than clusters of fixations and behaviors that logically hang together. Their conceptual consistency is merely a model to help people raise relevant questions about the inner events that possess a slippery logic of their own. Besides his economy of description and his reliance on per-sonal understanding, a further significant contribution Naranjo makes to the theory lies in how he has analyzed the connection between psychological difficulties and exis-tential decisions about being human. Going beyond Oscar Ichazo, from whom he first learned the theory, as well as beyond the people who had already published his enneagram material, Naranjo bases each psychological dynamic in a fundamental spiritual crisis he calls "ontic obscuration," which is a kind of a deafness to our inner drives to be authentic persons. He proposes that, just as certain cognitive errors under' lie each passion, so certain existential fail-ures underlie each cognitive error. This is significant because it puts the focus directly on the inner work of being fully human. Other authors settle for cate-gorizing people by behavior patterns or look to childhood trau-mas to explain present weirdness--the kinds of analyses commonly found in popular psychology. Indeed, popular psychology usually lacks the words and ideas with which to reflect on that innermost work of authenticity. But, by paying direct attention to "ontic obscuration," individuals can discover that a major driver behind their compulsive responses lies in how seriously they take those quiet impulses to be fully human or else how consistently they have avoided the inner work involved in staying human. This "ontic obscuration" underlies each compulsion in its own manner. The Slug stands at the center, having thoroughly obscured inner voices about how to be one's truest self. The Bully and the Perfectionist hear the voices dimly, but respond through a focus on externals, especially through various forms of anger they feel because things are not what they should be. The Helper, the Status Seeker, and the Sensitive Artist hear the voices, but they divert their desire to become fully human persons into Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learning. ~uly-Augtwt 199Y 523 Dunne ¯ The Enneag'ram becoming just persons whose image carries clout in the lives of o.thers. The Planner, the Accuser, and the Observer also hear the voiceS, but they divert a fear of not becoming fully human into strategies designed to protect the little bits of personhood they believe they possess.l° ¯ Naranjo refers to this approach as his "Nasruddin" theory. The story goes that this mullah was crawling around in an alley near a marketplace, searching for the key to his house. A friend joined in the search and, after finding nothing, asked the mul-lah, "Are you sure you lost the key around here?" The mullah responded, "No, I lost it at home." The friend naturally asked, "Then why are you looking for the key here?" The mullah replied, "The light is much better here." 1, The point is that we often look for the key to our house out under the sun, where everything seems clear. But the key is in the house, an~l the house is dark. The Existential Questign: How Should I Be? For all the benefits ofNaranjo's "ontic obscuration," he does not explain in precise terms what being human involves; he set-tles for a description of some effects of"obscuration." For exam-ple, "loss of a sense of I-am-ness" and "something missing inside.''12 At times he presumes that deep down people really know the experience of "ontic obscuration." At other times he claims that the obscuration itself prevents people from realizing that any kind of obscuration has occurred. So, while it is appro-priate for him to recommend that the seeker find a mentor to help recognize a compulsion, the theory would benefit also from a positive understanding of just what it is that "ontic obscura-tion" obscures. To uncover this prize, we need to reflect on how being human happens to be obscured ifi the first place. Most psychologists agree that the intellect of children develops not only in the amount of information they learn but, more significantly, in whether or not they learn certain higher-level intellectual skills for understanding their experiences. So Naranjo's "ontic obscura-tion'? indicates, not a breakdown in mental development, but rather an unfinished development. It is not a matter of having obscured what once was clear; it is a matter of having been born blind and gradually learning how to see. 524 Review for Religious The developmental problem is how to move from a world of images, behaviors, symbols, and external sensations to the larger world of meaning and values. As children we were able to pose questions about being human only by using images. Should I be pushy? Compliant? Generous? Teacherly? Observant? Like a lion? A turtle? A bird? A monkey? Early successful functioning of one of these styles sets up a habit and provides evidence that the world around us must be of such and such a nature--the one that matches our chosen strategy. To the Bully, then, the world is dog-eat- dog; to the Accuser, the world is ridden with crooks. We build up a behavioral style and support it with a cognitive belief in a par-ticular strategy like one of those described in .the enneagram: being correct, being related, being impressive, being the victim, being retentive, being wary, being pleasing, being pugnacious, or being deaf. We become capable of noticing our compulsions as such only later, when we learn that proper use of our minds and hearts is more important than proper behavior and that intelligent analy-sis and reasonable judgment put us in touch with the real world far better than myths and symbols can. Only p~ople who have learned to think about inner acts of meaning can make a statement such as "There I go again" as they catch on to unreal thinking and feeling. ~ .~ This learning represents a major jump in thinking skills. A person discovers that the world is not just "already out there.''Is The real world is also the invisible world made up of the acts of meaning that occur in people's minds and hearts: the agreements, the plans, the guiding ideas, the reigning values, the loyalties, the spites, the memories, the laws, and the internalized language of the place. Former precepts such as Be corre'ct~ Be connected, Be suc-cessful, and Be the martyr were established in the mind of a~child who had no alternative but to think with pictures and symbols. Bht, in the world of meaning and values, learning how to be human ought to transcend these image-based precepts and adopt precepts based on the functions of the mind and heart. Bernard Lonergan, the late Canadian philosopher whose Insight and Method in Theology have influenced many practitioners in the human and natural sciences, has identified five such func-tion- based precepts. They are: Be attentive, Be intelligent, Be reasonable, Be responsible, Be in love.'4 These voices are in all of us. They are active long before we notice them as distinct July-August 199Y 525 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram impuls.es. Although they still escape the notice of many psychol-ogists as being the most fundamental impulses that make us fully human, they are the living source of our ability to notice, under-stand, realize, take responsibility, and love, For Lonergan, these five precepts support a highly-structured method for the human sciences. But, for people seeking to under-stand their inner compulsions, they can also provide a normal way of referring to the task of being fully human. They can rep-resent the very operations that "ontic obscuration" obscures. These are the events that promise to bring a person to what Naranjo, in a more descriptive and less precise mode, calls "the integrated wholeness of one's experience"; "true aliveness, a sense of existing, a plenitude"; "finding value in the present and the actual.''ts These function-based ~precepts not only transcend image-based precepts; they also enable people to transcend who they are and to rise toward being who they are to be. Lonergan refers to these precepts as "the transcendental precepts." A Therapy of Love The question of how we should be does not end there. While people might rely on a diagnostic tool such as the enneagram to recognize self-defeating thoughts before they become actions, they also need a therapy to help recognize self-transcending thoughts and feelings. This means learning firsthand the differ-ence between the transcendental precepts and their opposites: between being attentive and being oblivious, being intelligent and being stupid, being reasonable and being silly, being respon-sible and being irresponsible, and being loving and being hateful. While anyone can recognize abstractly the contrast between these words, the right-hand members of the pairs conspire quite suc-cessfully to obscure their own functioning right behind our eyes. Fortunately, this conspiracy can be caught in the act. By know-ingly paying attention to the transcendental precepts, we can be more attentive to inner experience. We can be more intelligent about how certain cognitive errors and existential decisions sup-port our compulsions. We can be more reasonable as we admit the truth of how thoroughly our fixation may have dominated our psyches. We can be more responsible in accepting guilt that belongs to us, in shunning guilt that is unreasonable, and in sup-pressing what compulsions we can as they arise. Most wisely, we 526 Review for Religious can let our love for others take the lead more often, including and especially our love for God. When a person falls in love, he or she suddenly sees the exter-nal world as more beautiful, more full of potential, more worthy of respect and care. What has occurred, though, is not a change in the external world one views; it is a self-transcending change in the viewer. Being in love heals much of ~' what was crippled in the other four levels of the person's self-transcendence. That is, being in love gives courage to respon-sibility, realism to reason, insight to intel-ligence, and acumen to attention. The person has risen above the imprisoned self and realized something of the profound marvels of life, nature, and the friendly character of the universe. Love's healing power is evident in the love between friends, within a family, and among fellow citizens and members of a group. It is also evident in the love of God. People who have undergone a religious conversion, whether in a sudden inner revolution or a gradual takeover, experience three new powers. The~y see goodness where the unconverted see only evil. They feel a power to reach out to others at a higher risk to themselves than self-protecting reason would allow. And, after the worst setbacks, they find themselves soon on their feet, mys-teriously alive and submissive to the impulse to love again26 More can be said about the healing effects of religious love, but this milch illustrates how an analysis of our self-transcending acts clar-ifibs'what "being human" means and reveals the available powers that "o'ntic obscuration" obscures. Further analysis along these lines would complement any instance of healing with a thera-peutic theory consistent with religious love. Notice especially how the addition of this account of self-transcendence avoids the typi~cal trap of self-help psychologies. It makes clear that people do not help themselves all by them-selves. When i't is the self that needs help, "self-help" is a con-tradiction in terms. Genuine help must be imported. We rely on each other and we rely on God. In order to let go of our worries that our failures will be someh6w held against us, we rely on the fact that we are loved. Being in love gives courage to responsibility, realism to reason, insight to intelligence, and acumen to attention. Ju~-August199y 527 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram The work of making all this real for oneself is long and hard. It might go something like this: Suppose I typically play the Sensitive Artist, envious of the personas of others and absorbing my injuries in quiet melancholy. I should first keep a diary to log the times I notice my compulsion at work, in order to grow in the habit of noticing, t~nderstanding~ and gradually realizing how precisely my frustrated desire to be a notable person works. (Naranjo suggests that this work on autobiography may take three or four months.) ~7 At the same time, as I grow in self-realization, I should grow in self-responsibility. When I hear the inner voice saying "Be sensitive, be like so-and-so," I should say "Shut up!" and then bend an ear to the quieter voices of authenticity whis-pering, "Just be attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible, and in love. Being that is a quite good enough way to be your best." Then, alongside the inner work of self-reflection, I should let myself connect with others. Although Naranjo believes that his book can help a person avoid high-minded and patronizing therapists, I find it hard to imagine people really benefiting from it unless they talk about this inner work with others. Being con-nected to others means obeying the transcendental precept to Be in love. That means letting my love for others be the light that revdals what is truly worth doing, rather than mere consistency or some private ethical principle. Because genuine love heals irre-sponsibility, silliness, stupidity, and inattention, the test of genuine love will be just that: Does it make me more responsible, more ready to face truth, more functionally intelligent, more on the lookout for what really counts? If it does not, it is not love. The inner work also means letting myself be loved. For most of us, with our distorted self-images, this means facing the fact that despite our faults, despite the injuries we have caused others, the person who claims to love us is telling the truth. It means dropping the flimsy defense that "you don't really know me" and admitting that the point is not whether we are fully known, but whether we are appreciated and valued for ourselves. It means realizing that we will never be perfect, that we do not need to expend that much energy defending ourselves, that we do not even need to "fix" ourselves through diligent self-therapy. Unless we rely on God and other people for forgiveness, tolerance, and patience, no pathology or self-help therapy will work. This is only an example of finding our way home. Different people will find different paths. But at least knowing what being 528 Review.for Religious human is about shows us what our home looks like. Gradually-- never fully being, but always becoming, human--we will have returned. We can come in and go out as we please. We will have found our home's key: the house is no longer dark. Notes ~ Enneagram, coined from Greek, means "ninefold marking." 2 Capital means that the sins are principal or "head" (capita) sins from which people's other sins flow. Althofigh the enneagram seems to have arisen independently of the Christian tradition, seven of its compulsions match the seven capital sins. The remaining two are bogus morality (Accuser) and bogus success (Status Seeker). 3 No two authors agree on these generic names, but there is general agreement about the descriptions of each type~ Devotees often refer just to the number, as in "She's a raving Two!" (a Helper). 4 See C.G. Jung, Paychological Types (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1926), chap. 10. Isabel Briggs Myers and her mother, Katharine C. Briggs, developed the fourth pair of preferences, judging and perceiv-ing, based on further observations made byJung. Note that they realize that its usefulness applies mainly to the young. See Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type (Gainesville, Florida: Center for Publications' of Psychological Types, 1962), p. 8. s The works on which I have based my remarks are: Maria Beesing et al., The Enneagram: A Journey of Self Discovery (Denville: Dimension Books, 1984); Kathleen Hurley and Theodore Dobson, What's My Type? Use the Enneagram and My Best Self (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 and 1993); Claudio Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker and Character and Neurosis: An Integrative View (Nevada City: Gateways, 1990 and 1994); Helen Pahner, The Enneagram (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); Don Richard Riso, Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). I have also relied on various notes taken by students participating in workshops given by Naranjo and others who derive the substance of their doctrine from him. 6 An exception'is Hurley and Dobson, My Best Self, identifying two distinct compulsions in both the Status Seeker and the Accuser, making a total of eleven compulsions. In .any case, there are no enneagram the-orists I know of who have dealt with the fundamental problem of how to set a limit to types. If there is such a limit, then the types will have to be defined by a set of psychological conditions that are limited and verifiable. For example, Karen Horney's division of three reactions to conflict (against people, toward people, away from people) might be matched against three I-world comparisons (bigger than, equal to, smaller than) to generate exactly nine types. Or against the trio Denial, Overconfidence, Underconfidence. The trio Ignorance, Craving, and Fear seems to under-lie Naranjo's thinking. There are many possibilities. This kind of work will 3~ly-August 1995 529 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram be necessary if the professional psychological community is ever to give credence to the theory and, more to the point, if the theory is ever to be shown to explain the actual range of human compulsions. 7 Gurdjieff, the teacher of this model of personality, claims to have discovered the enneagram in the Sufi tradition, but there is little evi-dence in Sufism of any of the heavy interpretative overlay that it now carries. Gurdjieff's confidence in the diagram seems based on numerol-ogy rather than experiment, and he expected that the diagram could rep-resent any human or natural process. 8 Diagnostic and Stat#tical Manual of Mental Disorders III (Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1987). 0 9 See Albert Ellis, Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1963), chap. 3, "Irrational Ideas Which Cause and Sustain Emotional Disturbances," pp, 60-88. l0 The reader should note inconsistencies in the enneagram designs. In Naranjo's Character and Neurosis, pp. 199 and 245, and throughout his Ennea-Type Structures, the triangle arrows run clockwise. Everywhere else in Character and Neurosis, they run counterclockwise. tt Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures, pp. xix-xx, and Character and Neurosis, p 36. Hereafter page references will be to Ennea-Type Structures, with corresponding references to Character and Neurosis in italics. ~2 See pp. 30/61 and 63/219. He also describes ontic obscuration as: "obscuration . . . of the natural, original, and truest support for one's sense of personal value" (45/196); "the universal pain of fallen con-sciousness, beyond type-bound characteristics" (45/196); "lack of ground-ingin being" (107/197); and "loss of wholeness and sense of being" (138/150). o 13 Walter Burghardt SJ notes that John Courtney Murray relies on this distinction to clarify how weak the old Catholic reliance on dogma-tism really was. See "The Richness of a Resource," in A Spirituality for Contemporary Life, ed. David L. Fleming SJ (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1991). Murray may well have relied on Lonergan's Insight (New York: Philosophical Library, 1958) for this notion (for which, see real in its index). 14 See Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 53, 55, and passim. I have developed these notions more at length in Lonergan and Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985) and Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco, 199 I). Is Naranjo, pp. 47/197, 92/94, and 125/173. 16 These powers are traditionally called faith, charity, and hope. I have avoided the traditional terms in an effort to avoid conceptualism and to make clear how religious love heals the injured psyche. 17 Naranjo, p. 158/275. 530 Review for Religious MARY WINIFRED Imaging Spiritual Direction Ipn spite of a plethora of spiritual direction programs pur-orting to train those who would be spirithal directors, it remains a fact that gifts of direction are just that--gifts, not learned skills. Spiritual direction involves listening and hearing, discernment, clarity of vision, and assistance in the development of a relationship between an 'individual and God. While learned skills may assist a spiritual director, it is only deep sensitivity devel-oped through years of personal prayer that enables true spiritual direction. It is often easier to say what spiritual direction is not, than to describe what it is. For example, spiritual direction is not psychotherapy; it is not life skills taught by a social worker; it is not catechistic training for specific church membership. " In a pamphlet entitled Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen says: "It is of great value to submit our prayer life from time to time to the supervision of a spiritual guide. A spiritual director in this strict sense is not a counselor, a therapist, or an analyst, but a mature fellow Christian to whom we choose to be accountable for our spiritual life and from whom we can expect prayerful guid-ance in our constant struggle to discern God's active presence in our lives, A spiritual director can be called 'soul friend' (Kenneth I2eech) or a" 'spiritual friend' (Tilden Edwards). It is important that he or she practice the disciplines of the Church and the Book and thus become familiar with.the space in which we try to listen to God's voice. The way we relate to our spiritual director depends very much on our needs, our personalities, and external circum-stances. Some people may want to see their spiritual director Mary Winifred CtlS is the Sister-in-Charge of St. Cuthbert's Retreat House; Federal Hill Road; Brewster, New York 10509. ¯ July-August 199Y S31 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction biweekly or monthly, others will find it sufficient to be in touch only when the occasion asks for it. Some people may feel the need for a more extensive sharing with their spiritual director, while others will find seeing him or her once in a while for a few short moments to be sufficient. It is essential that one Christian helps another Christian to enter without fear into the presence of God and there to discern God's call" (8-9). Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. While training in prayer and meditation may certainly make one a more articulate spiritual director, neverthe-less spiritual direction remains a vocation unfettered by rules and regulations, by industry standards, or by a financial fee scale. Most spiritual directees practice St. Paul's suggestion in the Letter to the Galatians, "Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher" (6:6), by making some gift to their directors: homemade bread, flowers from the garden, a book or tape, or some other item; money does not usually enter into a spiritual direction agreement, nor should it. Unlike therapy or counseling, which are professional relationships between a ther-apist or counselor and a client, spiritual direction is a relation-ship of charity and generosity between fellow Christians. Spiritual gifts cannot be purchased; they are not for sale. Three images of the spiritual life may help to indicate ways in which the presence of a director (or mentor or soul friend) may effectively aid us in our growth Godwards. The first image, offered by Thomas H. Green, is :that of a marketplace. The marketplace--or, as Green also labels it, the ldtchen!--is the part of our lives that encompasses a multitude of small, necessary, sometimes tedious tasks which can seem to draw us away from the richness and quiet of our interior lives. "Frequently," Green says, "the demands and frustrations of the apostolate, or of raising a family and earning a living, seem to be merely obstacles to a genuine and deep prayer life. But if I am right in explaining the way the Lord works through these exter-nal activities and events, then we should see them quite differ-ently. Far from being obstacles to our interior growth, they become for us the very sandpaper of our sanctification, at least as important to our growth as what happens in the solitude of for-mal prayer" (121). 532 Review for Religious These are not particularly comfortable thoughts, especially for those of~us who would like to discover a large block of unin-terrupted quiet. Often it is only with the help of a wise spiritual director that we can begin to uncover and acknowledge the wealth of spiritual graces hidden in our routine daily tasks and to see opportunities in what have earlier appeared to be only obstacles. Another, who listens with detached concern, will not only listen to the occasional frustration, tiredness, or boredom in our every-day tasks, but will also hear the voice of God calling to us from what may, on the surface, seem to be 'merely dull routine. As surely as God works in this world, God is also available to us in our work, however .tedious and distracting our marketplace--or kitchen--may feel at times. Another ancient and popular image for the spiritual life is that of a journey or pilgrimage. John Gorsuch describes such a spiri-tual journey as a moving out from a place of assumed comfort, beckoned on by God into the unknown. The image of a journey is particularly apt if considered in its various stages: there is a beginning, with its preparations and planning; the travel itself; and the goal of the journey. In the early stages of beginning a journey, there may be excitement and feverish planning--a guide is helpful here in focusing our attention and helping us to leave behind our unnecessary baggage. I once watched my sister prepar-ing for a backpacking trip: with the advice of an experienced back-packer friend, she was encouraged to take only the essential objects, leaving her backpack light enough to carry and yet stocked with exactly what she would need. But traveling, no matter how well it is planned and prepared, is nevertheless an adventure into the unknown. Often we must stop to ask for directions or other help. In traveling this may be as simple as "Yes, you're on the right road" or "Two more blocks Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. July-August 199Y 533 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction and then turn left"; on a spiritual journey, as simple as "Keep lis-tening in your prayer" or "Look in the mirror every morning: you will see a person God loves profoundly." If we are fortunate enough to have a good and reliable guide or director, we are soon back on track. At times, too, the journey's route may seem long and wearisome--turning aside or even giving up altogether may look like the most positive option. Then a wise mentor's word of encouragement may challenge and enliven us to continue with new energy and zeal. And then there is the goal to our journey. Sometimes we are so caught up in the travel itself that we lose sight of the goal. A friend and I once planned to spend a restful week together; iron-ically, we also planned too many sight-seeing activities, with the result that the true goals of the week--to ,rest and enjoy each other's company--were lost. So, on a spiritual journey, it is easy to be distracted by circumstances and surroundings from our true goal of knowing God. We need a wise and discerning director to help us in maintaining a clarity of vision about our goal. A third image is that of epiphany. Adrian van Kaam, from whom I have borrowed this image, describes an epiphany as the "shining forth of eternity in daily people, in often unnoticed events and things" (8). It is an epiphany that comes through in the openness and vulnerability of spiritual direction. Van Kaam goes on to say: "The risen Lord is our life now. Our life must become a hymn of praise to Jesus rising in us . Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is at hand in each of us. It is already here and now, for we are called to share his resurrection in humanity and history" (65). And surely this is the heart of spiritual direction, that one Christian shares freely with another a word of help, a message of encouragement, a glimpse of eternity. Bibliography Gorsuch, John R An Invitation to the Spiritual Journey. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990. Green, Thomas H. Darkness in the Marketplace. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1981. Nouwen, Henri. Spiritual Direction. Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 1981. Van Kaam, Adrian. The Music of Eternity. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1990, 534 Review for Religious MARY C. SULLIVAN The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs It is 2 June 1577. Teresa of Avila is, in effect, under house arrest in the convent of the Discalced Carmelites in Toledo, Spain--a community she founded in 1569.1 She has been on the road for almost ten years, establishing reformed monasteries of Carmelite women and even of Carmelite men committed to the poverty, silence, soli-tude, penance, prayer, and detachment she believes are envisioned in the primitive Rule. But now for the last year she has been ordered to remain in one of her convents (she chooses Toledo) because of political tensions between the Calced and Discalced Carmelites. She is regarded by the Calced as a ringleader who must be kept out of cir-culation. To add to her isolation, on 18 June 1577 the papal nuncio Nicol~is Ormaneto, who has been friendly to the reform, will die, and his successor, Felipe Sega, will come to Spain in August already prejudiced against Teresa and her work. He will later call her "a. restless gadabout woman, disobedient and stubborn, who under the cloak of devotion invented wicked opinions, going about breaking enclosure, contrary to the decree of the Council of Trent and the orders of her superiors, teaching as if she were a doctor, in contempt of the teaching of St. Paul, who com-manded women not to teach."2 Mary C. Sullivan RSM works in the College of Liberal Arts of Rochester Institute of Technology. She may be addressed at Sisters of Mercy; 18 Upton Park; Rochester, New York 14607. heritage j~uly-August 1995 535 Sullivan ¯ The Brazier That Is My God Prologue But now, in early June 1577, during her enforced reclusion, Teresa is in Toledo, writing a book on prayer at the request of her confessor, Jer6nimo Gracifin, a Discalced priest. By the end of July, after one month of work on Las Moradas (The Interior Castle, or The Dwelling Places3), she will be recalled to Avila, where against her own desire she has again been elected prioress of Incarnation, the Carmelite convent she entered as a young woman and from which in 1562 she will found San Jos4, the first convent of the Reform, across town in Avila. But the Carmelite authorities do not want Teresa to be the prioress of Incarnation. They will call for a second vote, and when fifty-four sisters at Incarnation persist in electing Teresa, these sisters will be ex-communicated and denied the sacraments. On 3 December of this same year, John of the Cross, the confessor and spiritual director at Incarnation, will be abducted from Avila at night by Calced friars and taken to the windowless closet cell in the Toledo monastery of the Calced Carmelites where he will remain impris-oned for six months. Simultaneous with all this, the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing in Seville, having been operating as a powerful ecclesiastical tribunal for almost a hundred years. The manuscript of Teresa's Life has been in the Inquisition's possession for two years, after being denounced to it by the dis-appointed and vindictive Princess of Eboli.4 In the midst of all this difficulty, most of which deeply dis-tressed her, in the six-month period from 2 June to 29 November 1577 (which will actually amount to only two months of writing time), Teresa will start and complete her masterwork, The Dwelling Places, the treatise on prayer and virtue which more than any other of her writings led Pope Paul VI in 1970 to declare her a doctor of the universal church. Not once in this volume does Teresa refer explicitly to the external affairs which weigh so heavily on her mind and heart, though her letters of this period amply demon-strate her concern, and dismay. Rather, in this magnificent book about a human person's gradually increasing communion with the God dwelling within her, Teresa speaks about the prayer of per-sonal conversion, the prayer of reordering and reordered charity within the human heart. And so The Dwelling Places is a book which may contribute immeasurably to the present-day conversion of the church, of religious life, and of the hearts of individual Christian women and men. 536 Review for Reli

Issue 10.5 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; A.M.D.G. . Renew for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1951. Christian Heroes . J. Pu~z Joy in Heaven . Richard L. Rooney ¯ PassionisHc SpirH'uallty . Fidells Rice Modesty ¯ ¯ ~ . ,~ .~ . C- A. Herbs÷ Grace o~ Our Vocation . P. De Leffer Communion for O~hers . . Clerence McAuliffe A Vocational Newspaper Questions and Answers Book Reviews ,VOLUME X i' =, NUMBER 5' RI:::VI W FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME X SEPTEMBER, 1951 NUMBER GONTENTS CHRISTIAN HEROES-~3. Putzo S.J . 225 Heroism of Everyday Life . 225 The New Saints ¯ " . ZZ9 The New Beati . 235 JOY IN HEAVEN--Richard L. Rooney, S.3 .2.3.9 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY--Fidelis Rice, C.P .2.4.1 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 246 MODESTY--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 247 ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE. RELIGIEUSE .2.5.2. THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION---P. De Letter, S.J .2.5.3 COMMUNICATIONS--A VOCATIONAL NEWSPAPER . 260 OFFERING COMMUNION' FOR OTHERS-~Clarence McAuliffe, S.J. 261 MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS . 265 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 20. Alienation of Property for $100,000 . 266 21. Alienation of Sacred Objects: Relics, Images, Vessels . . . . 266 22. Extreme Unction before Major Operation .268 23. Letters of Golden Jubilarians . 268 24. Novice Master at Coun~i~ Meeting . ¯ " . 268 25. Communion to Ambulatory Sick . 269 26. Hail Mary's on Feast of Annunciation . 270 I'~EW MEDITATION BOOKS . 270 BOOK REVIEWSw Pastor's History of the Popes; The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus; The Gifts of the Holy Ghost . 273 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 276 BOOK NOTICES . 278 TEN YEAR INDEX OF REVIEW--MAYBE . 280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September. 1951. Vol. X, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation, Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S~ J. Copyright, 1951, by Adam C. Ellis, S,J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price]! 3 dollars a year: 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Befoie writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Christ:ian bleroe It~UR DAYS call for heroic living. The greatness.and diffi: ~ culties of our time are su.cb that no disciple ofo "~hrist.is allowed to remain satisfied with mediocrity." This, saying of Plus XI has often been quoted. The Holy Year was" meant-to stir up Christendom to greater fervor, that it might be an:active, l'eaven for'the much-needed renovation of the world. The numerous beati-fications and canonizations of this last year put beforeus outstandi'ng Christian heroes whose example is meant to stimulate our mediocgity~ Heroism is the test applied by the Church to candidates for .beati-- fication--not a human, stoic heroism, but a heroism inspired by personal love, by charity, and sustained by the Holy Ghost dwellin~ in the soul. At the beginning the typical saint was the ma'rtyr, th.e Christian who had been a witness to Christ by. dying for Him. ,But soon it was realized that, in the absence of persecution.s, there can be an "unbloody martyrdom" by heroic fidelity in liv'ing for Christ, Thus, by the side of martyrs, the names o,~f. outstanding "confes~ors~j came to be added in the martyrology. Heroism always remained the test of genuine sanctity, and the Congregation of Rites, .When studying the cause of'a confessor, has chiefly to discuss the hiroism his virtue. Is there evidence that he possessed in a herbic degree.the theolggical virtues of faith, hope, charity and the cardinal.~ri~tues :of prudence, justice, temperance, fortitude, with the virtues connected with them'? , .' ~ :: " , But what is required for heroic virtue? It is not easy tO dete~ mine thi's notion. Benedict XIV, in his treatise on'the beatification of the servants of God, has given all the elements, but he has:not made the synthesis, and one may say that the notion remained some:~ what indeterminate. This gave rise, 'within the ,Congregatigrl of Rites, to different conceptions of heroic, virtue. This. difference' de-layed the cause of the servant of God, A. Gianelli. The same reason may explain why until this year no child or ado.lescent ever passed the test, for the classical conception insisted 'on "extraordinary,~.' manifestatidns of heroism. There was room for progress 'tow~i'r'ds greater precision and, accor~ding to a recent articl'e by.~a consultor:of 22'5 J. PU~Z Reoieto for Religious the Congregation of Rites, the well-known Carmelite, Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, a distinct progress has been made during recent years. (Cf. Etudes Carmelitaines, 1949, pp. 175-88.~ This progress has not only a juridical importance for the process of beatification; it interest~ ascetical theology as well, since all Chris-tians are called to sanctity, and the type of holiness required by the Church for canonization determines the ideal of Christian perfection after which all must strive. T.he true Christian is the saint, and the saints are the standard by which we must guide and judge ourselves. Our imitation of.them must be based on a precise notion of what sanctity-~heroic virtue--consists in. Aqcording to Father Gabriel, the work of elaboration and deter-mination took place chiefly between 1916 and 1922, under the direct inspiration of Benedict XV. It can be followed in the decrees of the Congregation of Rites published on the occasion of the declara-tion of heroic virtue especially in the decrees concerning A. M. Gianelli (AAS, 1920, pp. 170-4)'and 3. N. Neumann (AAS, 1922, pp. 23-6). As a result, we are told, the Church is now in possession of a concept of heroic virtue more synthetic, less complicated and less abstract, more definite and easier to apply. This notion was clearly expressed in 1916 by Benedict XV, when he declared that "sanctity consists merely in conformity with the divine will, expressed in the constant and exact fulfillment of the duties of one's state." Sanctity, as the decree of April 11, 1920, explains, cannot be judged by an abstract standard. The saints cannot be reduced to one type. Heroism will vary according to each one's temperament, state of life, and other circumstances. It will not always show itself by extraordinary or stupendous deeds. For, as the decree' states, "these require a suitable occasion. But such occasions are rare and do not depend on the will of man; persecutions, for instance, plagues, or earthquakes cannot be produced at will. Hence, if holi-ness consisted in such deeds, it would follow that holiness itself does not depend on the will of man--which is absurd." The heroism to which all Christians can aspire is the exact and constant fulfillment of their concrete daily duties. "Comrounia sed non communiter,'" according to the motto of St. John Berchmans, doing common things but uncommonly well. What makes the saint is not the nature of his actions, whether extraordinary or common, important or insig-nificant; what counts is the intensity of his love that rules and in-spires all his actions. 226 September, 195 ! (]HRISTIAN HEROES Such fidelity implies real heroism, for nothing is more difficult to human nature than constancy. To be moved in everything by the will of God only, without being influenced by the ever-active sensi-bility, the sudden movements of the passions, the sense of fatigue, the ups and downs of one's n~oods.---such constancy supposes that the soul is under the perfect domination of the Holy Ghost and totally oriented towards its last end. Father Gabriel wrote in the same article, "If it were not so, if it were not perfectly purified, if other motives distinct from the love of God were still active (they can all be reduced to self-love, the root of all inordinate love of creatures), .then it would inevitably act more than once under the impulse of these motives and thus deviate from the pure fulfillment of the divine~ will." In such a soul "we admire a human nature tbat has reached a singular harmony and perfection--its spiritual forces keeping the sensible fac~lties in docile submission or completely conquering their resistance, so as to realize to perfection the task prescribed to it by the Lord: the perfect fulfillment of His holy will by a total, constant, ~nd generous fidelity to the daily duty." "Such sublime conduct, kept up over a long period, and without failure, is completely above the powers of human .nature left to itself . It alone suffices for evangelical heroism, for it makes man perfect in the way the heavenly ~Father is perfect." (Quoted by Benedict XIV in his treatise on beatification, III, c. 21, n. 10.) ! "'The heroism of the ordinary life has officially received a place by the side of the classical extraordinary heroism," wrote D. Pietro Brocardo. (Cf. Satesianum, 1950, p. 197.) Benedict XV's suc-cessor, the Pope who stressed the universal call of Christians to sanc-i. ,t~ty, often expounded this conception. Sanctity, according to Plus ~KI, is not something "exceptional," it is but the Christian life lived fully and intensely according to each one's vocation. Sanctity is but ~he fullest and richest expression of Christian life. It is the divine perfection proposed to all, from the humblest believer to the gigantic ~gures of hagiography. If not all are called to the same height of ~anctity, yet all are called to sanctity. His most famous pronounce-ment on this topic is his allocution published in Osservatore Romano, ~Jan. 6, 1928, on "the terrible everyday duty," given after the reading bf the decree of the heroic virtue of Brother Benildus, a humble leacher who had spent his whole life in elementary schoo.ls: "A humble servant of God, whose whole life was all modesty hnd silence, all very commonplace and very 'everyday.' But in such 227 Reoiew for Religious an. everyday- life how much there is that is not common! This everyday, always the same, with the same occupations, the same ~;eakness~s, the same miseries, has rightly been called 'the terrible ev'e'ryda3f:' How much strength is required to stand up to this ter-rible, this crushing, this monotonous, this asphyxiating everyday! An. un'c6mmon irirtue is very necessary to perform--not with an all too'° frequent negligence and superficiality but with attention and inner fe'rvbr of spirit--that series of common actions which fill our e'4ceryday life'. 0' "Holy Church is never a more equitable judge and a wi~er teacher of bdlinesk than when she honors these humble lights, so often unnoticed even by those who had the good fortun~ tosee them shine finder their i'er~, eyes. Extraordinary things, great events, magnifi-cei~ t enterprises arouse the noblest instincts: in the commonplace, on the:contrary, that is, in the flat and obscure everyday task, there is nothing exciting or fascin.ating. Yet this is the stuff the life of most men' is made of. How often do extraordinary circumstances present therfiselves in a lifetime? They are very rare, and woe to us if sanc-tity were reserved to extraordinary circumstances! What would the greater part of'~nankind do? For it is certain that all without dis-tinction are called to sanctity." " B'roth~r B~nil~tus was beatified twenty years later, on April 4, 1948. On that occasion Plus XII, too, spoke of the heroism of the ordinary life. Benildus was neither a founder, nor a mystic, nor a miracle-worker; h~.was a,~simple schoolmaster. His only claim to the honors' of the YChurch was his fidelity to duty--to his rules and the daily grind of the school. But such constant fidelity to the details of his di~ty, his radiant charity, his serenity in difficulties could only flow. frorrl a'ddep[and vigorous interior life and habitual union with Goal. ' :. ¯ During th~ Holy Year a variety of saints have been' beatified or e~rmn~zed." Maria Goretti w~s only eleven when she died, but she Was canonized as a martyr. Yet, even this extraordinary form of htroisrd;, the Pope pointed out, presupposes the "ordinary" heroism of the'daily life. Among the new beati is the first adolescent ever t'gised to the altars, Dominic Savio. So far, the youngest confessor ~fioni~ed is S~."Stanislaus; but he was a young man of eighteen ~nd, besides bein~ a religious, his life was out of the ordina.ry, Dominic died before he was fifteen, and his life was the very ordinary s~hool-b'oy life. The criterion of heroic virtue exposed by Father Gabriel 228 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES ,seems to havi~ made it possible for children and adolescerits to pass the test required for tl~e supreme honors of the Church. The eight saints canonized during the Holy Year of 1950 brought "the total number canonized by Plus XII tO twenty-two. Saints Emily de Rodat and Maria Goretti were also beatified by the present Holy Father. Among the canonized we find seven confessors and one martyr; one bishop, one priest-founder of a religious insti-tute, three foundresses of religious congregations, and three who attained sanctity "in the world": a middle-aged woman, a young woman, and a girl. Four are Italian, two French, one Spanish, and one from Latin America. Five belong to the nineteenth century, while the fifteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries each claim one. St. Jeanne de Valois (1464-1504) Jeanne de Valois, daughter, sister, and wife of kings, seemed to be so high-placed only to be the more cruelly humiliated and cast away. Her birth was a bitter disappointment for King Louis XI who already had a daughter and wanted a son who could succeed him. Misshapen by nature, she was sent away from the court and brought up by strangers. When still a child, she was bound by a political marriage to the young Duke of Orleans who detested her and who, when twenty years later he l~ecame King Louis XII, had his marriage annulled, makin,g of the rejected queen an object of public ridicule. But the greater her disgrace in the eyes of the world, the more clearly stands out her moral nobility and spiritual greatness. The "royal Cinderella," as she has been called, showed no bitterness, no morbid self-pity; she accepted everything with sincere humility, deep love for God and for men (including her husband for whom she never ceased praying and who became one of the best-loved kings of France), and whole-hearted application to the work God had given her. The king, on sending her away, made over to her the duchy of Berry, and during the six remaining years of her life she resided at Bourges, her capital, administering the duchy with such success that she earned from her pebple the title of "the Good Duchess."A'mid 229 J. PUTZ Review [or Religious the splendor of her court she secretly practiced" the most rigorous penances. In 1500 she realized a long-cherished project, the founda-tion of an order'of the Blessed Virgin, the Annqnciade. Its members were to take as their means of sanctification the imitation, the repro-duction of M~ry, by practicing, her "Ten Virtues" as found in the Gospel. She herself, though continuing to rule the duchy, made her religious profession and wore the habit under her worldly d~ess. She completed her work by founding a Third Order, the "Order of Peace,': whpse members, living in the world, were to work for peace and reconciliation. The Order of the Annonciade flourished for centuries, but was almost destroyed by the French Revolution. At ' present it has a half dozen bouses in Belgium, France, and England. When Joan died in her fortieth year she was immediately venerated as a saint. Her cult grew, miracles multiplied, but she was not formally beatified until 1742. Pius XII solemnlY proclaimed her a saint on May 28. In his homily the Holy Father stressed the saint's work for the promotion of peace; in heaven, he said, she continues to pray for the extinction of hate and for fraternal concord, so that the nations may form one great family, striving with united for~es to ensure prosperity and peace for all. On the following day, in an address to the numer-ous French pilgrims, he described the spirituM characteristics of the saint--spirit of faith, devotion to the Mother of Jesus ("an infallible test of the true. Christian"), union with Jesus in suffering--and gave her as an example tO French Catholics, particularly to the women of France "on'whom in the present crisis devolves a mission 9f supreme importance." SI. Mary Ann of Jesus (1618-1645) Born in Quito, Ecuador, of Spanish parents, this Saint of Latin America--"the Lily of Quito"--showed a precocious attraction for the things of the spirit. She took the three vows at ten and lived the live of a solitary in a room of her sister's wealthy home,.leaving it only to go to church and to visit the poor and sick. She practiced heroic austerities and was favored with sublime prayer. In 16~}5, when Quito was visited by earthquakes and a deadly plague, she publicly offered herself as a victim for the sins of the people. The skourge abated, but she was seized with a malady-which put an end to her short but intense life. She was only twenty-six. 230 September, 1~51 CHRISTIAN HEROES She was beatified by Plus IX in 1853. In 1946 "the Parliament of Ecuador declared her a "national heroine." Her canonizatiorl, the last of the Holy Year, took place on July 9.In his homily the Holy Father stressed three aspects, of her life: (1) immaculate purity; (2) ardent charity, which she practiced towards every misery, spir-itual and material: when she was powerless to help, she tried to obtain help from God by prayer, expiation, the offering of her life; (3) extraordinary austerity, inspired by the desire to expiate the sins of men. She offered herself as a~victim for the salvation of others. This question of mortification needs special stres.sing in the mod-ern world, the Pope said. "Not all, especially nowadays, understand this kind of penance; not all esteem it as they should. Many of our contemporaries despise it or neglect it. Yet we should know that for our fallen nature penance is absolutely necessa.ry. Unless y.ou do pena.nce you will all perish. Indeed, nothing heli3s more efficaciously to conquer our passions and to subject our natural instincts to the control of reason. And when we have won a victory over ourselves it is sweet to exp'erience a divine joy which surpasses' al'l earthly pleasures." In his allocution to pilgrims the following day, the Pope re-marked that we "who. live in the full light of the deyotion of the Sacred Heart may well admire the holy intuitions of this innocent victim who, at the beginning of .the seventeenth century, was led to make of reparation the centre of her spirituality." St. Vincent Strambi (1745-1824) St. Vincent Strambi was one of the great bishops and upholders of the Church's independence in the face of totalitfirian rulers. After being ordained a priest in 1767 he was received into the Passionist Congregation by St. Paul of the Cross himself. He was a great preacher of missions and director of souls (among his penitents was the Blessed Anna Maria Taigi) and filled high offices of authority in his order. In 1801 he was, much against his will, appointed bishop of Macerata and Tolentino by Plus VII. He administered his dio-cese with the zeal of another Charles Borromeo. Preoccupied chiefly with the formation of the clergy and the diffusion of religious in-struction, he brought about a religious renewal among priests and laity. When he refused to take the oath of. allegiance to the ustirping regime established by Napoleon he was expelled from his diocese in 231 J. PUTZ Review for Religious 1808 until the fall of the Emperor in 1813. In 1823 he resigned his see and died soon after in Rome, where Pope Leo XII had made him his confidential adviser." In the midst of his intense activity and the vicissitudes "of his life he never relaxed anything in the austerity of his private life. He was beatified, in 1925 and canonized on June 11, 1950. In his homily the Holy Father made an application to the countries where the Church is being oppress, ed by the secular power: "The Church can be attacked, she cannot be conquered . If under the present difficulties--which in some countries seem graver than those referred to above--some souls are disconcerted, wavering, or anxious, they should remember the promises of Jesu~ Christ and try to imitate the invincible fortitude of this saint as well as. his other virtues." St. Anthony Claret (1807-1870) St. Anthony Claret was another great priestly figure of the nine-teenth century. Born at Salient in the north of Spain, he practiced for a tired his father's trade of cloth-weaving, but eventually was able to follow his heart's desire and join the seminary of Vicb. After his ordination in 1835 and a few years of pa.rish work, he conse-crate'd himself with extraordiriary success to ~he preaching of missions and retreats throughout Catalonia. His zeal inspired other priests, and in 1849 he founded the Congregation of MissioriarySons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, commonly kno.wn.as the Claretians. The same year he was sent to Cuba as Archbishop of Santiago, to b~ing about there a much-needed reform: In this post of exceptional diffi-culty he achieved considerable results, though several attempts were made on his life. After seven years he was recalled to Spain to become the confessor of Queen Isabella II. In the revolution of 1868 he was banished from his country. He attended the Vatican Council where he spoke eloquently for the definition of papal infalli-bility. Soon after, .on Oct. 24, 1870, he died in France. Besides preaching some 10,000 sermons, h~ was an ardent apostle of the press. He wrote 120 books and pamphlets (144 volumes), founded religious libraries, and promoted the diffusion of good literature. He was beatified in 1934 and canonized on May 7, 1950. The work of this powerful apostle is carried on by the Cl~iretians who in 1949 celebrated their first centenary. They count at present Over 4,000 members in 24I establishments all over "the world. Their chief work is education, missions and retreats, and the aposfolate of 232 September, 1951 CHRISTIAN HEROES the press. In Rome they ~un the Poliglotta Press and edit the Corn-mentarium pro religiosis et missionariis. St. Emily de Radar (1787-1852) .' At the beginning of the nineteenth century, the French Revolu-tion and the long wars that followed it bad accumulated in France and Europe immense miseries, spiritual and material. Then Provi-dence raised up numerous saints who, impressed by the needs of their time, devoted themselves to remedy them. Rarely in the history of the Church do we find so many religious institutes springing up every-where, dedicated to the prac.tice of various v~orks of corporal and spiritual mercy. In this providential reconstruction women had a prominent share, and this explains why among the saints beatified or canonized by Pius XII there ale so many religious foundresses of this period. Emily de Radar was beatified by Plus XII in 1940 and canon-ized by the same on April 23, 1950. Born of an aristocratic family, she was brought up by pious parents but passed through a period of worldly frivolity and religious indifference. Converted during the Holy Year of 1804, she decided to consecrate'her life to the service of God. After trying several religious institutes, her visits to the poor made .her realize the great need for Catholic schools: She immedi-ately set to work: she had found her vocation. With three other young women she opened a school, and thus the Congregation of the Holy Family was started. Today it has over 200 houses in Europe and South America--schools, orphanages, hospitals. The H01y Father, in his homily, stressed the precious services rendered by reli-gious institutes of women: "When we consider the admirable enterprises of this saint, when we remember what her congregation and the other religious institutes --almost innumerable--have accomplished, we cannot but proclaim that the Church and civil society as well owe very much to all these religious women. If we did not have them, if God by His heavenly inspiration did not continually and in every century raise them up, if He did not sustain them by His help, who could fill their place? Let all, then, learn to praise them as they deserve, to help them as they can . And may the religious zealously and strenuously strive to live up to their lofty vocation." Saints Bartolomea Capltanio and Catherine Gerosa (1807-1833) (1784-1847) , Bartolomea Capitanio and Catherine Gerosa founded together 233 the Italian Sisters of Charity, after the model of St. Vincent de Paul's Sisters of Charity. Bartolomea began her apostolate at fourteen, teaching, little children. Soon her simple and strong personality drew to her, as to their mother, the young, the poor and afflicted of her little town of Lovere. Seeing the need to organize the ever-increaging work she joined forces with another saintly worker of the same town, Catherine, who was twenty years her senior and had already opened a hospital for the sick poor. Bartolomea died a few years later, at the early age of twenty-six. Her spiritual notes and instructions, as well as a considerable number of her letters, have been published. She left the young institute to the care of Catherine (who had ~dopted the name of Vincenza), an extremely bumble woman, yet an efficierit worker and able organizer. During the fourteen years she had still to live, the congregation continued to expand 'rapidly Today it counts nearly 9,000 religious in some 500 houses. Barto-lomea' was beatified in 1926; Vincenza in 1933T.hey w~re canon-ized together on May 18, 1950. St. Maria Gorettl (1890-1902) No canonization war received with greater enthusiasm than that of the humble village girl who died for the preservation of her purity The ~tory of her martyrdom is. known to all our readers. Her popu-larity and the speed of her promotion to the highest honors of the Church ha~e been equalled or surpassed in modern times only by the Little Flower of Lisieux. Her cause was introduced in 1938 and concluded in 1945. The solemn beatification took place on April 27, 1947, and she was canonized three years later, on June.-24, 1950, forty-eight years after her death. " (Teresa of Lisieux died on Sept. 30, 1897, was beatified on April 29, 1923, and canonized on May 17, 1925. Aloysius Gonzaga was beatified fourteen years after his death, bu~ another' centu.ry passed before be was canonized.) In spite of her youth, Maria was capable of heroism, and this heroism showed itself also in the pardon accorded to her miarderer on her' deathbed and in. the superhum~t'n patience during the extremely painful operation by which,the doctors tried to save her, withou~ putting her to .sleep,. D.ur!ng those tWO. long., hours Mary never complained but kept invoking the help of the" BlEssed Virgin. For .sush :heroism, the Holy F,a.ther point.e~d 6ut.in his allocution, the 23~, September, 195 I. CHRISTIAN HEROES courageous child had prepared herself by the daiIy practice of the virtues of her state: "It is true that it is above all purity that sho~e in Maria Goretti's martyrdom, but with it. and in it the other Christian virtues tri-umphed as well. In that purity there was the most evident and sig-nificant affirmation of the perfect control of the soul over matter. In that supreme heroism, which cannot be improoised, there was the tender, obedient," and active love for the parents, self-sacrifice in the hard work~of every day, poverty accepted in an evangelical spirit and sustained by trust in Providence, religion embraced tenaciously, deepened ever more, ~ssimilated as a treasure of life and nourished by the flame of prayer; the fervent desire of ~lesus in the Eucharist, and finally--the crown of charity--the heroic pardgn accorded to the murderer. All this forms a rustic garland, so dear to God, of country flowers which adorned the white veil of her First Com-munion and, shortly after, her martyrdom." The beatifications of the Holy Year, like the canonizations were eight in number. The total of those beatified by Pope Plus XII at the end of 19~0 is now'fifty-two; this includes the twenty-nine Chinese martyrs. Among those beatified during the Holy Year we find one priest, one boy, and six foundresses of religious institutes: two Spanish, two Italian, and two French. All except one belong to the nineteenth century. Blessed Vincen~ Pallo~f~ (1795-f850). Vincent Pallotti was the apostle of Rome at a difficult period of histo~-y.-After his ordination and a double doctorate at the Sapienza, he started his apostolate among students and it soon became clear that Rome possessed a holy priest. He was made confessor of Propaganda College, the English College, the Roman Seminary. On all of them his influence was deep. But his preferences were for the poor and the workers; he opened professional and agricultural schools and pro-moted t?ade unions. His zeal embraced the whole world and every" need, spiritual and material. For this "universal" object he founded the Society of the Catholic Apostolate (a society :of" priests and Brothers living in common without public vows, commonly known ,235 J. PUTZ Reoieu~ for Religious as the Pallottines) and the Sisters of the Catholic Apostolate. He took a special interest in the conversion of England and sent to that country some of his best men. He realized, more than a century ago, the immense possibilities and the necessity of the lay apostolate, and Pius XI called him a "pioneer and precursor of Catholic Action." This bold and far-sighted planner was a man of incredible humility, considering himself an obstacle to the progress of the Church and accepting without a word the most cruel humiliations. He always kept his predilection f.0r the poor, giving them even his own clothes. He died of a pleurisy contracted as a consequence of giving his mantle to a destitute man. Today 3,550 Pallottines and 2,900 Sisters of the Catholic Apos-tolate continue the saint's w.ork in many countries. Vincent's beati-fication was the first of the Holy Year; it took place on Jan. 22, exactly 100 years after hi~ death. A few days later the Pope pointed out "this great sacerdotal figure" as an example to parish priests and preachers. His sermons, he said, were always directed to the ur~uro nec.essarium; his confessional was eagerly sought after and surrounded with extraordinary effects of grace, "May his spirit be renewed in every one of you and infuse into your apostolate that .irresistible glow of love which the doubting, uncertain, and suffering men of today need so much." Blessed Marla-Soledad Torres y Acosta (1826-1887) Maria started her apostolate of charity in a squalid quarter of Madrid. With her h'elp the parish priest opened a hospital for. the ¯ poor. Eventually she had to take charge of the whole work, which she stabilized and perpetuated by founding a religious congregation, the Servants of Mary. Her institute during her lifetime spread from Spain to South America. At present it counts some 1,600 members. She was beatified on Feb. 5, 1930. Blessed Vincenta-Maria Lopez y Vicuna (1847-1890) Vincenta was born of an aristocratic Spanish family. Sent to Madrid for her higher education, she became interested there in the charitable Work of her aunt who, shocked by the difficulties and dangers of the lives of domestic servants, had opened a home for them. Vincenta refused a brilliant match arranged by her father and 236 Se'ptembe¢, 19:51 CHRISTIAN HEROES took the vow of chastity. After her father's death she used her con-siderable fortune.to develop her work of social assistance. To further extend it she founded the Daughters of Mary Immaculate for the protection of young women. At'present they number, nearly 2,000 members in various countries. Their hostels for domestic servants, working-girls or students provide for the material and spiritual wel-fare of well over 30,000 young women. She was beatified on Feb. 19, 1950. Blessed Paola-Elizabeth Cerloli. (1816-1865) Like Vinc~nta she was bor~ of a noble family in Northern Italy. But at nineteen, not feeling called to the religious life, she followed the wish of her parents and married an old widower,Count Buzecchi, forty years her senior. After the death of her husband and three children she was then tl~irty-eight--she consecrated her time and income tO assisting the poor peasants and farmhands of the sur-rounding country. In 1857 she started a religious community, the Sisters of the Holy Family of Bergamo, for the care of orphans and morally abandoned children. In 1950 this institute counted some 300 members. The saint was also instrumental in founding a simi-lar institute for men, the Priests of' the Holy Family. The brief of canonization compares her with St. Joan de Chantal, an angel in four states of life, girl, wife, widow, and religious. She was beatified on March .19, 1950. Blessed Maria ~e Mattias (1805-1866) Maria was born in the diocese of Gaeta. When she was seven-teen, she attended a mission preached by the Blessed Gaspar del Bufalo, a friend of Blessed Vincent Pallotti and founder of the Mis-sionaries of the Most,Precious Blood. The holy preacher to whom she opened'her soul recognized her great gifts and entouraged her to take up the apostolate of Christian education. She began by gath-ering the little children in her parental home, and in 1834 she founded.a convent and a school. This was the beginning of the in-stitute of the "Adoratrici" of the Most Precious Blood, which today has 215 houses in Italy and 172 in other parts of the world, with some 2,000 members. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Anne-Marie Javouhey (1779-1851) The child of a farmer of Burgundy, she grew up amid the horrors 237 J., PUTZ Reaie~a [or Religious of the French Revolution, sometimes risking her life. in order to hide and assist priests. At nineteen she vowed perpetual Chastity and re-solved to dedicate her life to the education of children and the care of the sick. As other girls joined her in the work she c~nceived the plan of her new congregation, the Sisters of St. Joseph, called "of Cluny" from the place of the mother house. Soon she made founda-tions in mission countries, Africa, Pondicherry, French Guiana, and others. A woman of remarkable energy and intrepid enterprise' (King Louis Philippe said admiringly, "Madame Javouhey, that's a great man"), she frequently visited her missions, worked for the abo-lition of slavery and for the organization of public services in the colonies. From the start she realized the necessity of forming an indigenous clergy, and in order to accelerate the work she brought to France the first Negro candidates for the priesthood. Today the Sisters of St. Joseph are found in every part 'of the world, working in schools, hospitals, leper asylums, and other institutions. She was beatified on Oct. 15, 1950. Blessed Marguerite Bourgeo~ys (1620-1700) This blessed takes us back to the seventeenth century and to the great period of ~he Canadian missions. John de Brebeuf was mar-tyred in 1649. The Ursuline missionary-contemplative Marie de l'Incarnation died in Quebec in 1672. Margaret, who had first tried the contemplative life with the Carmelites and the Poor Clares in her native France, found bet vocation when .the Governor of Montreal came to France and tried to find a teacher for the children of the French garrison of Ville-Marie. She offered her services and in 1653 reached Montreal, where she .began bet apostolate by teaching the catechism and visiting the sick in their huts. In 1658, with some companions whom she bad brought out from France the previous year, she founded the congregation of Notre Dame of Montreal, which became an important educational factor for the whole of Canada and. since 1860, for the United States (at present 5,680 members). Margaret, "schoolmistress and itinerant mis~iorlary,;' opened mission schools ff;r Indian girls, many of whom became zealous Sisters in the institute. Thus, as the Pope remarked in his address to Canadian pilgrims, she realized among the "savage" Huron girls what St. Francis de Sales had dreamt of for France, a congrega-tion of non-cloistered "secular daughters." She was beatified on November 12, 1950. 238 September, 1951 JOY IN HEAVEN Blessed Dominic Savlo (1842-1857) Blessed Dominic, beatified on March 5, is the Benjamin of the confessors raised to the altars, since he was not quite fifteen when he died, The son of a modest but deeply Christian family, he very early showed a special earnestness and resoluteness in his piety. His First Communion, which he made at seven, .definitely set his will towards the goal of sanctity. In 1854 be was received by Don Bosco into the oratorio of Turin. Here~ under the saint's direction, and fos-tered by special graces, his spiritual life developed rapidly; but after two ~,ears a sickness obliged him to return to his home, where he died a few months later. His life was written by Don Bosco him-self. The decree declaring the heroism of his virtues was published in 1933. The beatification of this youthful masterpiece of divine grace--grace to which he corresponded heroically--will no doubt encourage new studies on the nature of sanctity and .especially of children's sancti~j'. [EDITORS' NOTE: The foregoing article is reprinted with permissi'on from The Clergy Montfily, a magazine published in India.] Joy in I-le ven Richard L. Roone}', S.J. "I,"HE Archangel in charge of the recording angels had called a | meeting of the guardians of religious. They were met in his skyey office high above the battlements of heaven. "Quite frankly, Angels, my aide~ are alarmed about this whole business," he was telling them. "The number of 'kicks,' complaints, criticisms and 'crabs' that l)hey have to record for religious is prepos-terous. They're even wondering if these human creatures will be satisfied and happy and content even here in heaven! They have found one hope, however. They feel sure that Purgatory will take all the 'kick' out of these kickers. You Gufirdian Angels do a grand job keeping your charges living up to their vows and observing the larger phases of religious life. It is time, nevertheless, that you went to work on this complaining business. It may relieve their human ,239 RICHARD L. ROO~EY feelings to 'crab' 6r to criticize. It doesn't add to God's glory or to their own merit however. So please, now, to business." The guardians, your own among them, filed out of' .the office and winged earthward. They came, each of them equipped with ques-tionnaires like the following. How would you answer them if your Angel Guardian put one before you during your next examen? 1. Do you find yourself complaining quite often? 2. What (or who!) is your p, et peeve? 3. Do you "kick" about the weather, the c~ll or the room you have, the house you are'in, the food you are. served, the work you have been assigned? 4. Do you ever "crab" about superiors or their directions? 5. Have you a few kindred souls with whom you get together to talk over the way things would be done if you were in charge of them ? 6. Do you firm., and vocalize about it. that the community is a pretty dull, or annoying lot? 7. Are you heaping up a pretty severe judgment for yourself by judging others . . . and that right severely? 81 There is a lot of sense in the little poem: Two men looked through prison bars; One saw mud, the other sad2 stars. Well, what do you see in the rest of us most of the time? 9. Do you accept the ordinary pin-pricks of daily religious life without grumbling? (Remember you are an especially selected member of a thorn-crowned Head.) i0. Can you put all of ydur words and remarks, both within the community and to externs, on the paten of tomorrow's Mass and know that they will be acceptable to God? After scanning the above you may find that it will be a good thing to take your particular examen off such undisturbingly im-practical generalities as humility or charity at large and particularize it at least on keeping a strict guard over your "kicking" tongue. If so, go to it! The best of success to you! Know that you will be a delight not only tO your. fellow religious but to the saints and angels and God Himself as well! 240" Passionist:ic Spiri!:uali!:y' Fidelis Rice, C.P. IN THE INFINITE 'reaches of eternity, within the secret council of the Godhead, the Wisdom and Love of God decreed that all of creation should reflect in.a unique way the ineffable perfections of God. Because God is absolutely infinite--that is, without any limits whatever--no creature could ever exhaust the divine imitabil-ity. Since the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity, the Word, is the Exemplar of all that is, iherefore each creature is called upon in its own distinct way to teA1 us a little more. about the vastness, the goodness, and the perfection of the Word. "All things were madd by Him, and without Him was made nothing that was made." In the realm 6f souls our reflection of the divine holiness is to be accomplished by a participation in the Christ-Life. For each soul is predestined from all eternity to manifest in time the eternal Holiness which is God. There is a uniqueness, then, in the destiny of each soul. "Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who" has blessed us with spirftual blessings in heavenly places, in Christ. As He chose us in Him, before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and unspotted in His sight, in charity." (Ephesians, 1:3, 4.) Here the great Apostle reveals to us that our holiness is planned and designed in eternity, but according to the pattern of Christ. We are all called to mirror the holiness of the Word, but each soul in a different way. There is, then, a wondrous blending of unity and multiplicity in the pattern of holiness. Christ is one, the unique model of all holiness. But because of the limitations of our nature, because of our very creaturehood, each one of us will reflect the holiness of Our Lord in a so.mewhat different way, just as various artists in painting the same subject will use a varying contrast, a difference of light and shadow, greater or less use of chiaroscuro, until the completed can-vases, while basically the same, will manifest vast differences. ¯ So it is that in the various religious orders and societies, approved by the Church, there is a difference of pattern in the design for holi-ness, although, all are dedicated to the one supreme objective--the perfect imitation of Christ. The essential spirit of each religious order is imparted, first of 241 FIDELIS RICE Retaieto for Religious all, by the founder of the institute. Plus XI clearly states that the various founders of religious institute~ were guided in a special way by the Holy Spirit, who seeks alway,s to communicate to the Mysti-cal Body.of Christ the graces purchased by His precious death upon the cross. "For what else did these most illustrious men do in founding their institutes, but obey the inspirations of God? There-fore, let their followers show forth in themselves those characteristic traits which the Founders imprinted upon their several Institutes. Let them not fail in this." ("Unigenitus"; A.A.S., Vol. XVI, p. 133.) The key, therefore, to essential Passionistic spirituality is to ,be found in the life and work of Saint Paul of the Cross, and Passion-ists can be called "Passionists" only insofar as they adhere to his teachings and to his spirit. ° It was the unique genius of Paul of the Cross to combine in one Rule the best features of two apparently contradictory or opposing states of life. For he willed that his religious should cherish and foster the contemplative observance of choir monks, centering all in the liturgical, prayer of the Office, while at the same time fulfilling the sublime vocation of a missionary apostolate. In the mind of Paul of the Cross, missionary activity should flow spontaneously, from the life of prayer, thus verifying the teaching of St. Thomas Aquinas that the function of the apostolate is "tradere contemplata aliis"--"to'give to others the fruits of contemplation." Because the consuming passion of the life of St." Paul of the Cross was love for the sufferings of 2esus Christ, he wanted his religious to share, in a special way, in the redemptive sacrifice of Christ. That is, the Passionist vocation is in a special way a vocation to a life of reparation. The inmost spirit of the Passionist Rule is the spirit of solitude, penanee, poverty, and prayer. In unforgettable language Saint Paul of the Cross described the spirit of his institute in a cir-cular letter which he sent to his religious for the Feast of Pentecost, May 2nd., 1750. "Most beloved Sons, you are dead, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. Therefore, as dead to all that is not °God, r~main in the most perfect detachment from all created things, in true poverty of spirit, and in detachment from sensible consola-tions. Assisted by the most holy grace of ,lesus, direct all your zeal to this end--to be recollected in interior solitude; then you will become true adorers of the Sovereign Good in spirit and in truth . Never withdraw from the holy Wounds of Christ, but ever strive 242 September, 1951 PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY more and more that your souls become hidden in and entirely pene-trated by them." (Letters: Vol. IV, p. 226.) Saint Paul of the Cross was one of the most privileged of mys-tical souls with which God has endowed the Church, but his very mysticism bore the unique character of his vocation. For although he received the grace of the "transforming union" or "mystical mar-riage"-- the highest grace of mystical prayer--at a very early age, yet for over fifty years thereafter he continued in the profound suf-ferings of the Dark Night of the Soul, a fact which Father Garrigou7 Lagrange, O.P., calls almost unique in the lives of the saints. Because Paul of the Cross was a master of prayer, it is not to be wondered at that he should insist upon a spirit of constant prayer. for his followers. In his Rule .he states in the very first chapter that "Prayer is one of the chief objects of our Congregation." The Passionist Rule, as it is observed in our monasteries in the United States today, prescribes, beside the Divine Office, two hours of mental prayer each day--an hour in the morning, and an hour in the eve-ning. Including the time that is devoted to the Divine Office; the Passionist, in the daily routine of his monastic day, spends close' to five hours in prgyer. One of the features of Passionistic prayer is the observance of the night office, for Passionists rise ea, ch morning at two o'clock to chant Matins and Lauds before the Blessed Sacrament. This observ-ance lasts one hour, and the religious retire again at three, to rise once more at dawn for Prime and Tierce. This nocturnal observance is one of the cherished ~xercises of the penitential spirit bequeathed by Saint Paul of the Cross to his sons. In order that the spirit of prayer might always be preserved in the Congregation, Saint Paul prescribed most riggrously that Pas-sionist monasteries be built always in places of solitude, and with every safeguard that the spirit of solitude be not violated nor intruded upon. Hence, even when built in the heart of large cities, there must always be sufficient acreage for gardens and privacy for the solitary walks prescribed by rule. Many of our 'American "monasteries are now surrounded by teeming residential sections, but when they were built they stood alone, in the midst of solitude. The cities have come to the monasteries, but because of the wise prescriptions of the Rtile the spirit of solitude is still safeguarded. However, the spirit Of the Passionist Congregation is also a spirit of apostolic activity. As the present Superior General, Most Rev- 243 FIDELIS RICE Review for Religious erend Albert Deane, C.P., wrote in a recent circular letter to the Con-gregatio, n: "On the day it would cultivate the contemplative life ex-clusively, the Congregation would cease to be what 'our Holy Founder instituted. Nor could he be said to be a good Passionist, who without legitimate cause would'omit to do what he could to attain the apostolic end of our Congregation, although under the p.retext of better caring for his own salvation. His religious profes-sion demands otherwise of him." In this ~ame document, our Most Reverend Father General has beautifully epitomized the heart of the Passionistic spirituality: "For our spirit, dearest Sons, can be likened to a'pyramid, made of the spirit of prayer, penance, and the apostolate, but held together by the fire of devotion to Christ suffering, having no other apex to which the ~exalted Passionist life converges than our configuration to Christ Crucified, whom we must preach by word and by example: 'We preach Christ and Him Crucified.' This is what the words say which we carry engraven over our hearts; this reminds us, if perhaps we sometimes forget, of our very name itself, for we are popularly called 'Passionists'.',' . The primary work of the Passionist Congregation, then, is a reflection of its inner'spirituality--the preaching of popular mis-sions, and retreats to the clergy and religious, as well as to the laity. Passionists conduct no schools, except for the education i~f their own subjects. They engage in parish work only as an exception, and for clearly defined needs in a particular locality. They are above all, preachers of the Passion of 3esus Christ. To this end they take a special vow to promote in the hearts of others, devotion to the Pas-sion of oresus Christ. They do, however, engage in foreign mission work, and they are likewise working among the colored in the South. Saint Paul of the Cross was a staunch advocate of enclosed re-treats for the laity. Cherishing, as he did, the wonderful advan-tages of holy solitude, it is not surprising that he would wish to share these advantages and blessings with the laity. And so he wrote into his Rule the prescription that in each monastery rooms should be provided for lay retreatants. In most of our American monasteries we have special retreat houses for men, and a flourishing retreat movement is an integral part of our Passionist family life. Because Paul of the Cross was consumed by the love of Jesus Christ Crucified, he burned with the desire to bring the riches of His death to the souls of men. He was profoundly aware of the 244 September, 1951~ . PASSIONISTIC SPIRITUALITY meaning of the priestly vocation, and realized fully that a p~iest must always communicate to the Mystical Body 6f Christ the life purchased by the sufferings of Ouk Lord. But he knew, too, that the most fruitful apostolate is that which is the overflow of prayer, rather than a substitute for it. Hence it was that no matter how gifted a missionary might be, no matter how eloquent on the mission-platform, and no matter how great the demand for his services, Saint Paul of the Cross rig- . orously required that each missionary spend a suitable portion of.the year in the solitude and quiet of the monastery. Although far wise to reduce this to a mathematical formula, the founder of the Passionists imposed upon superiors and missionaries alike the obli-gation to. preserve always in the Congregation this time of with-drawal each year from the exhausting round of activity. The demands for our services have grown with the years, and no fixed calend,a'r tan be drawn up which governs the exact details, but our superiors still strive faithfully and sincere!y to arrange the schedule for-each mis-sionary, so that he may spend a sufficient amount of time.withih the mona.stery each year. Saint Paul of the Cross was profoundly con-vinced that "one Religious who is a. man of prayer and lover of solitude will bring forth more spiritual fruit from the ministry than a thousand others who are not such." (Letters, Vol. III, 418.) .,. The Passlonlst family circle is made up of three groups: tl~e priests, the students or clerics, "and the lay brothers. ¯ In most of our American monasteries all three groups are found, for most of our monasteries are also houses of study, or seminaries in which young men are preparing for the priesthood. Our lay brothers, a shitable time after the profession of their perpetual vows, are admitted to }ecreation with the priests; and the recreation is common ~f(;r these two groups. The students remain always in a separate r~creation. The day's horarium.is divided bet.ween prayer and study. The day is spent in silence, except for the two brief recreation periods each day. Three days of fast and abstinence are .observed each week-- Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. During the entire time of Ad-vent and Lent, Sundays included, abstinence from meat is the rule within the monastery. Paul 6f the Cross does not want his sons to forget that t,hey must bd men of penance. For this reason, too, san-dals are worn on the bare feet, and a ro.ugh woolen h.abit is worn the year round. The Passionistic ideal;" then, is to share as intimately as possible 245 FIDELIS RICE. o in the sublime virtues which shone, forth so re~splendently on Cal-vary. It is the vocation proclaimed so sublimely by Saint Paul the Apostle in his Epistle to the Colossians: "Who now rejoice in my sufferings foF you, and fill up those things that are wanting of the sufferings of Christ in my flesh, for His body, which is the Church." (Colossians, 1:25.) So it was that that other P~ul, Paul of the Cross, sought to instill into his followers a burning love for the Crucified, a love which would make them conform their own lives by penance, solitude, prayer, and poverty, to the ideals of Calvary, that they might go forth to preach the glories and the ignominies of the Cross of Jesus Christ. The r~assionist spirit might be summed up in one word, "Stau-rosophy," for "stauros" is the Greek word for the Cross.; ,The sons of Paul o'f the Cross must remain ever absorbed by the wisdom or the "philc~sophy" of the Cross. Wisely has the Church selected the Introit for the Mass on the Feast of St. Paul of the Cross: "Christ0 confixus sum cruci." . "With Christ I am nailed to the cross." (Ga-latians, 2:19.) No other words of Sacred Scripture could epitomize more simply the ess.dntial spirit of this great lover of the Crucified, and of the form of life which he has bequeathed to his sons, who wear that habit of mourning first shown to Paul of the Cross in vision, by the Mother of God, when she told him to founc~ an order whose members would devote their lives to mourning for the sor-rows of Her Son. OUR CONTRIBUTORS F1DELIS RICE, writer and missionary, is on the mission band at St. Joseph's Passionist Monastery, Baltimore, Maryland. J. PUTZ, the editor Of Clergg Month-lg and author of Mg Mass, and P.DE LETTER, a recent contributor to American ecclesiastical journals, teach at St. Mary's theologate, Kurseong, India¯ RICHARD L. ROONEY is on the Queen's Work staff and editor of Action Now. C.A. HERBST and CLARENCE MCAULIFFE are o£ the faculty of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, . , : PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The sul~scripfion pHce of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00"per year for" Domestlc.end ,Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per yeer for all for~icjn subscrip-fio'ns. For further de~'ails please see inside back cover. 246 Modesty C. A. Herbst, S.J. ~4 ~t man's looks betray him: a man of good sense will make him-self known to thee at the first meeting; the clothes he wears, . the smile on his lips, his gait~ will all make thee acquainted with a man's character" (Ecclus. 19:26, 27. Knox version). This' is the Holy Spirit's description of modesty. Following His directive, St. Thomas teIIs us that this virtue is concerned with "the movement and actions of the body; that all of them, those gone through in fun as well as the serious ones, may be decent and proper." (Summa Theologica, 2-2, q. 160, a. 2.) Dress is also included. The cardinal virtue of temperance controls pleasure coming from food, drink, and ' sex, the most difficult things. Modesty, a part of temperance, takes care of the lesser. A subordinate in the hierarchy of authority takes ~in hand the little things. Modesty is therefore not at all the s~me thing' as chastity or purity, as many quite commonly presume, though it may be more or less connected with it. Not one's interior only but one's exti~rior, too, must be con-formed to the .norm of right reason. The easy and evident way for u_s to strive to achieve this is "to imitate Christ. "We must look with the eyes of the soul on that wonderful leader 'beautiful above the sons of men' in the ordinary dress He wore at home . Erect of body and with perfect composure His gait was neither too hurried nor too slow. There was nothing soft or effeminate, not.hiog childish or lackadaisical about Him. Neither could anything gloomy or exasperating be seen in Him, nor was there any assumed gravity. He was not singular nor finicky. His Whole being breathed sweetness, joy, kindness, majesty." (Le Gaudier, De Perfectione Vitae Spirit-ualis, Pars IV, caput xviii.). "Jesus began to do and to teach," first to tellus by His exampl~ how tb act, only later by His words. Our exterior modesty should be, as His, for the glory of God. "So let your light shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven." It should make us more like God. "God cre~ ~ted man to his 6wn image: to the "image of God he created him." Man's likeness to God is, of course, in the soul, in his interior sanc-tity, but that interior dignity and perfection should shine forth, so 247 ¯ C. A. HERBST Reoeiw [or Religiou~ to speak, in the ,modesty of his exterior as through a beautiful and translucent garment, or as the rays of the sun make a cloud all silver and gold. That "image of God" ou.ght somehow to be mani-fested in the body. "Because man's body alone of all the animals on earth is not bowed down to the ground but so made that it can better contemplate the heavens, it can justly be said' that it is made more t6 the image and likeness of God than the bodies of other animals, as Augustine says. But this must not be understood to mean that the image of God is in man's body but that the very form of. the human body represent.s the likeness of God in the soul like a trace." (S. Th., 1, ,q. 93, a. 6.) The importance of modesty in the life of a religious can hardly be overestimated. One is forced to this conclusion from reading the masters of the spiritual life and by noting the Christian tradition through the centuries. The statement made by St. Ambrose in this matter is a classic. "Modesty must be preserved in our very move-ment, carriage, and gait. Our habit of mind is reflected in our body. "Thence the real man hidden away in the heart, the light-headed 6r careless or turbulent man or, on the contrary, the more serious or steady or more upright or more mature man can be ascertained. The motion of the body, therefore, can be called the voice of ~he soul." (De Of Kciis, I, 18.) St. Bernard says: "Modesty is the greatest of orn~ments in reli-gious, especially in the young. This is so true that if they do not cherish it there is little hope of their becoming good or virtuous . Lack of external composure in the body is a sign of an indevout mind." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) Knowing how very closely bod~r and soul are united we are not surprised to hear Hugh of St. Victor say: "As of a wandering mind are born disordered move-ments of the body, so when the body is brought under discipline the soul is made strong. Little'by little the mind within is brought to rest when under the watchful eye of dis.cipline its disorderly move- "ments are not allowed to flow to the exterior." (Delnstttuttone' " " Novitiorum, X.) So exterior modesty m.akes even a greater contri-bution to the soul than it does to the body. St. Vincent Ferrer'thought that a warrior of Christ could never free his soul from disorder if he did not first endeavor to rid his body of what was unseemly. From all of which it would seem to be clear why modesty is so much emph.asized in the beginning of the re!igious life: modesty of action and, incidentally, "modesty of words," which 248 Septernber~ 195 l MODESTY is silence. Even a beginner.can superimpose upon himself external order in the blessed hope that from it will come to him an array of spiritual goods. For it is easier to bring one's exterior under subjec-tion than one's interior. Mqdesty has a great apostolic value. St. Basil says that a virgin should "be seen by those who n~eet her to be such in habit and gait and every movement as to reflect the likeness of God. The eyes of those who behoId her should be incited to modesty and their mind instructed in virtue. They.should hold that sight in honor and, as I have said, show deference to and revere that image of God. As pictures of' satyrs make one laugh and as sad pictures fill the mind , with sorrow . so a virgin, since she is the picture--nay, the very reproduction--of purity, should even if merely seen raise the thoughts of those who behold her up to God . Avirgin, therefore, should be very careful to reproduce in herself the divine image in all t.hings." (Patrologia Graeca, 30, 714-715.) St. Francis of Assisi was most eloquent by his modesty. "It is told ofthe blessed St. Francis that he said one day to his companion, ~'Let us go to preach,' and so went out, took a turn in the city, and returned home. His companion said to him: 'BUt father, are v~e not preaching?' 'We have already preached,' he answered. That sedate-ness and modesty with which they, went through the streets was a very good sermon; it moved people to devotion and to contempt of the world, to compunction for their sins, .and to the raising of their hearts, and desires to the.things of the next world. This is a sermon in action, more effectual than one in w6rd.". (Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, II, x, 1.) The very sight of the young Saints Aloysius, Stanislaus, John Berchmans, and Gabriel of the Sorrowful Mother raised men's hearts to God. The gr.eat in-fluence for good of the pr.ayerfuI, recollected, and modest bearing of those who love God is but another striking instance of "actions speaking louder than words." That is why St. Ignatius said: "And hence it will follow that, considering one another, they will increase in devotion and praise our Lord God, whom every one must strive to acknowledge in another as in His image." (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. i, n, 4.) .The beginner must practice modesty, and by doing so he exer- Cises himself in many virtues. But modesty is also the mark of the perfect. A well-ordered exterior shows great interior'perfectlon. The man who has achieved this has already made great'prggr.ess. One 249 C. A. HER,BST Reveiu~ for Relig:ous who habitually and gracefully has his exterior under control has gone far in the direction of self-mastery. If one has to be mortified to be decent, as our novice master used to say, what constant mortifi-cation and vigilance must be necessary .to put on the modesty of Christ. For this, persevering and almost heroic self-conquest is neces-sary. In this connection it might be well to remark that if we put ourselves through the discipline and took all the pains from a super-natural motive to put on modesty, which is the etiquette of God's ch.ildren, that the children of .the world do to don good manners in public and social life, our merit would i~deed be surpassing great and our spirit of sacrifice supreme. "And they indeed that they may receive a corruptible crown; but we an incorruibtible one" .(I Cor. 9:25). But then, "the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light" (Luke 16:8). Founders of religious orders have given special directives, "rules of modesty," for regulating external deportment. As those given by St. Ignatius of Loyola even now influence many thousands of reli-gious, it might be well to give some of them here. "All must be exactly careful to guard the gates of their senses (especially their eyes, their ears, and their tongue) from all disorder, and preserve themselves in peace and true internal humility, showing it in silence when it is to be kept, and when they have to speak, in the circum-spection. and, edification of their words, in the modesty of tbelr coun-tenance, gravity of their gait and whole carriage, without any sign of impatience or prided' (Constit. S.d., P. III, c. 1, n. 4.) "In all out-ward actions there should appear modesty and humility, joined with religious gravity. The bead should not be turned this way and that way lightly, but with gravity, when need shall require; and, if there be no need, it must be held straight, with a little inclination forward, without leaning on either side. For the most part, they should keep their eyes dowfi, neither immoderately lifting them up, nor casting them now one way., now another. Wrinkles on the forehead, and still more on the nose, are to be avoided, that there may appear out-wardly a serenity which may be a token of that which is interior. The whole countenance should show cheerfulness rather than sadness or any less moderate affection. The lips must neither be too much. shut nor too much open. The pace should be moderate, without any notable has,.te, unless necessity should require it; in which case, however, a care of decorum should be had. In fine, every gesture and movement should be such as to give edification to all men." (Rule~ 250 September, .MODESTY or: Modesty.). St. Paul says in another connection: "When I was a child,. I °spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child. But, when I became a man, I put away the tlSings of a child" (I Cor. 13: 11).'A child must hear and see and taste and smell and touch every-thing. But when he grows up he is willing to put away the things of a child--nay, is eager to. We can hardly imagine a grown-up going on playing with his toys. A man loses taste for such things. So is one as he becomes spiritually mature gradually weaned away, as he attains to th~ full stature of Christ, from the surface pleasure of the senses and the allurements of sense satisfaction. This is the more true the more he grows to relish the things of God. Then the curious ears and roving eyes and anything unbecoming in the countenance. carriage, and gait of childhood give place to that maturity and serenity proper to men and women at horhe with their Father the King. The practice of modesty is not only for religious propriety, or edification, or mortification, or to foster recollection, or to make pos-sible and encourage spiritual development and high interior activity. It is also to keep, our soul from becoming sick or maimed by venial sin or perhaps even killed by mortal sin. "Death is come .up through our windows" said the prophet (Jer.°9:21). St. Bernard comment~: "Death enters our windows when, with prying eyes and itching ears. we insist upon administering to ourselves the deadly cup of distrac-tion." (Sermo 24 in Cantic.) And St. Ambrose: "Who, midst so many bodily passions, midst so many snares of this world, can go along safe and undefiled? The eye sees: the mind is perverted. The ear bears: our attention is drawn away. We sm~ll something: our thoughts are 9bstructed. The lips drink: sin enters in. We touch" something, and we are inflamed with desire." (De Fuqa Saeculi, cap. 1.) That is why Christ, so mindful of human, weakness, instituted for the very end of life a special sacrament for the removal of the re-mains of sin contracted through seiase experience. At the last anointing the priest places the~holy oil "'on the eyes because of sight, on the ears because of hearing, on the nostrils because of smell, on the mouth bedauseof taste and speech, on the hands because of touch, on the feet because of Walking" (Council of Flore~nce, Decretum pro .Arrnenis) saying: "By this holy anointing and.by His most tender mercy may the Lord forgive you whatever guilt you have con- 251 C. A. HERBST tracted." St. Thomas explains: "This sacrament was instituted to" heal us. For a bodily cure we do not take medicine that will restore the whole body but those parts in which the root of the disease lies~ So the sacramental anointings should be made only on those parts where is found the root of the spiritual sickness." (S. Th., Suppl. q. 32, a. 5.) In conclusion, let us listen.again to a few words from that great master of the spiritual Jife, St. Bernard. "With the brethren be re-served, gracious, modest, affable, gentle, and on your guard. Be .strict with yourself but not in such a way as to be a nuisance to others . Every gesture and word, your way of acting, look, gait should be characterized by modesty and reserve. Let there appear nothing con-ceited or stilted in you, no boldness or anything overbea.ring . As the fear of the Lord puts order into a man's lif~ and prepares his whole interior for blessedness, so modesty brings his exterior under subjection. You should not become so familiar with anyone as to be completely forgetful of propriety in his presence." (Ad Quid Venisti?, xvii.) After all, "we are made a spectacle to the world, and to angels, and to men'~ (I.Cor. 4:9). And His Divine Majesty is always pres-ent, too. "In him we live, and move, and are" (Acts 17:28); ETUDE SUR LA PAUVRETE RELIGIEUSI: The Sisters of Providence (Les Soetirs de la Providence) in Montreal have "trans-lated into French six articles on poverty which appeared in the REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS and published them in a booklet. The articles are: "M~y Religious Buy and Sell" (V, 50) and the "Gifts to Religious" series by Adam C. Ellis, S.J.; and 'The Spirit of Poverty" (VIII, 35) by" Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. The "Gifts" se-ries includes: "The Simple Vow of Poverty" (VI, 65), "Common Life and Pe-culium" (VII, 33), "Personal versus Community Property" (VII, 79, and "Some Practical Cases" (VII, 195). Copies of the booklet, called Etude sur la Pauvret3 2eliqleuse, may be obtained from P~ovidence Mother House, 2311, rue Ste-Cath-erine Est, Montreal 24, P.Q., Canada. Cost: 40 cents per single copy; 35 cents in dozen lots or more. ¯PLEASE NOTE C~AREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per veer for Domestic end Cenedian subscriptions: $3.35 per year for ell foreign subscrip-tions. For further deteils pleese see inside beck cover. 252 The race ot: Our Vocal:ion P. De Letter, S.J. [EDITORS' NOTE: In the March number of this year the author of "Why Do They Leave?" concluded the article with an inspiring section headed "Why Do We Stay?" In the present article Father De Letter's analysis of the grace of our voca-tion forms something of a theological counterpart and complement to the latter question. He points out the different graces included in the grace of vocation, namely, the grace of state, the grace of perseverance, the grace of progress, the grace of keeping the rules, and the grace of supererogation. He next gives the solid theological basis for trust in the grace of vocation and concludes by describing God's part, the actual graces of light" and strength, and ours, the conditions for our 'trust. "I will put great trust in the grace of my vocation," wrote St. John Berch-roans among the first of his watchwords. It is of this gr~ice of vocation that Father De Letter writes.] ~i~/JE 'OFTEN HEAR or read about the grace of our religious W" vocation. No doubt we often thank Our Lord for this most precious 6f His gifts. Wi~at exactly is it? Spiritual au-thors use the phrase in a twofold sense, first as the free divine gift by which God calls to the religious life, and secondly as the special helps of grace which enable religious, who have followed the divine call, to meet the demands of their state and to persevere in it till death. 'The second meaning, that of the special helps, of the grace of our vocation will be used. This grace is a reality of our everyday life.,If we allow it to play its part to the full, it may and does make a difference for our own pe£sonal interests and for the souls for whom we labor. For this reason it is well worth studying more closely what the grace of vocation implies and what is the basis of our trust in it. Then it' will be self-evident how we should exploit this God-sent treasure. Grace of State All religiogs, we are told, are offered and receive the grace proper to their vocation. As any other Christians, those who are called to a definite state of life with its definite purpose are offered by the Lord the graces necessary to pursue ,effectively the end of their vocation. This is true both of the general l~urpose of every religious life, which is to seek after Christian perfectioia.or holiness, and of the specific end of each particular order or congregation. Grdce of" Perseuerance in God's Friendship ¯ First'of all, religious are offered and, unless they'wilfully refuse, ~.ctual!y recei~re the actual graces needed to remain permanently on the path thatleads to perfection, "that is, to persevere in sanctifying grace. 253 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious These graces are needed. Theologians commonly teach that without the help of God's grace no one can maintain himself in His friend-ship, because fallen human nature is weak and inclined to evil. But these graces are always offered, theologians reassure us, to all who sincerely endeavour to 'please God and to preserve His love and friendship. And why? Because God's love is faithful: He does not allow to be sr~atched from His hands those who sinqerely desire to be His. If that is the case for all Christians in the state of grace, then it is more true for those whom a special divine call ~lestines for an ever growing perfection of grace. Religious, therefore, m~y count in a special way, by virtue of their very state in life, on the fidelity of the Giver of all graces. He enables them day after day and hour after hour throughout their religious life to avoid every grievous fault. Grace of Progress There is more than that. It is the fundamental duty of state for religious to advance continually in grace and perfection. That again is not possible without the help of God's grace. Our faith teaches us,. infallibly, that no good work for heaven can be performed with-out God;s gracious help. If that is so, and if religious grow in grace precisely by the works of virtue ' (and the reception of the sa.crame,nts, which grace enables them to do properly), then we must say that their Fathe~ in heaven, who is Love, cannot expect them to do thes~ works and not give them the needed help which He alone can give. That is why religious have and receive the graces necessary for the good works that are to lead them on to perfection, the goal of their vocation. ' Grace of Keeping the Rules and Obeying What are these good works? They are, naturally, commanded by the specific end of each religious institute. Concretely, they are laid down in the rules and constitutions: these outline the particular manner in which a religious vocation is to work out its ideal of Christian perfection, These laws and ways, therefore, differ for different institutes.' Hospital sisters, teaching religious, and contem-platives, are not expected to labour for perfection by exactly the same good works. Their respective rules point out to them "by which paths they are'to draw nearer to God. To follow these pathh ~nd no other, each one in the particular.office that is assigned him by the inst.itu, te and. in the community where obedience placed him, .is pnmista.kably the du.ty of state of. every re, ligious. And so all.~e.li- 254 September, 1~ 1 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION gious are offered each day the necessary grace to keep the rules and-fulfil their office: because fidelity to these duties is the concrete way for them to advance towards perfection and fidelity is not possible without these graces. Not every Christian, theologians teach, is at all times offered the grace needed for good works which are not of precept but are supererogatory, because, there is no clear indication that God's will demands these works from them. Only for such good works as are certainly willed by the Lord may we expect His grace to be guaran-teed. But the case of religious is a special one. Though the good ~works demanded by their rules are not, genera'lly speaking, strictly of precept (not at any rate when the religious laws do not bind under pain of sin) and are therefore in a true sense supererogatory, yet the very nature of religious rule implies that God clearly wills those works. His good pleasure and desire is expressed in the rules. By that very fact He also guarantees to ~eligious the necessary graces, ;¢¢ithout which they would be unable to comply with His good pleasure. , This conclusion applies equally to the acts of virtue which obedi-ence to superiors imposes on religious. Commands of religious supe-riors generally (exception being made for orders given in virtue of holy obedience, in whicJ~ the vows are involved) bring to their sub-jects the same kind of obligatiofi as the rules impose. As such, therefore, they do not bind under sin; yet they express to us unmis-takabl~ y the divine wishes. Religious receive the necessary actual graces for obeying the orders of their superiors as they do for keeping the rules. Though these acts of virtue, because not imposed under sin, are supererogatory in the strict sense of the word, yet they are, for religious, guaranteed as possible by the grace of their vocation. "Grace for Supererogatory Acts of Virtue There are additional virtuous actions which are not demanded of religious by rule nor by orders of superiors, but to which, they believe, a special inspiration of the Hgly Ghost invites them. Such good works, for example, extra .acts of mortification, or prayer, or humility, or kindness, are altogether free in the sense that no rule nor direction of obedience imposes them. These are not immediately covered by the grace of the religious vocation. To them will apply the teaching of theologians about supererogatory good works: not unless the invitation of God's grace be sufficiently proved genuine and ?eliablecan they count on His special help to follow up these inspira- 255 P. DE LETTER Review for Religtous tions. It should be added, however, that religious are, from their very state of. life, more opeh to these special invitations of grace. Why?" Because their fundamental duty of state is to aspire after perfection, and not all particulars that appertain to the practice of perfection are or can be determined by the rules or by obedience. Accordingly, religious need these special inspirations. Other things being equal, there is a greater probability that in the case of religious these inspirations of grace are genuine and reliable. To that extent and in that 'indirect way they also belong to the grace of the voca-tion. At this juncture the task of the spiritual director comes in to provide rehglous with sufficient guarantee that allows them safely to follow up these interior invitations. Without this sanction the danger of self-delusion would be real. That danger is excluded from all that falls within clearly known duty. Herein religious may and must depend on it that grace will not be wanting them, if only they themselves are not wanting to grace. Why is it so? Whai: is the dogmatic and theological basis of our trust in the grace of o.u.r vocation? Doctrinal Basis of Our Trust We have already hinted at the intrinsic reason why the grace of our vocation includes all the particular graces needed to fulfill our duties according to the rules and constitutions and the commands of the superiors. It is the following. God cannot command the impos-sible, because of His infinite wisdom and lo,;,e. Of religious He asks a constant strivin~g after perfection: that is the meaning of the reli-gious vocation. They find the concrete way to strive for perfection detailed in the laws of their institutes and the directions of their supe-riors. But to do all that is involved in keeping the rules and in obeying, many good works are needed which no man, religious not excepted, is able to do without the help of grace.: For two reasonsi both because these virtuous actions require a faithful effort which after original sin is not possible for long without grace; and because these acts are supernatural and of their very nature suppose the super-natural help of grace. If then God expected religious to live up to the demands of their vocation and did not at the s~me time give them ~he necessary graces, He would be demanding the impossible. Dogmatic Foundation The. ultimate foundation of this conclusive proof is nothing less than the highest possible authority on revealed truth: ,the infallible 256' ,September, 1~51 THE GRACE OF O~JR VOCATION teaching of the Church. The Council of Trent defined that it is not impossible for men to keep God's commandments; it condemned the contrary assertion of the Lutherans as heretical doctrine (DB 828). In St. Augustine's words the Council explained how men can, in spite of fallen nature's weakness, have the moral strength to do what God commands: "When He commands, He admonishes you to do what you can and to ask for help to do what you cannot, and He helps so that you can" (DB 804). Later. the Church condemned another heretical proposition of dansenistic pessimism which stated that "just men cannot keep some precepts of God even though they wish and try to do so, with the strength they now have; and the graze which would enable them to keep those commandments is also lacking" (DB I092). An infallible teaching, therefore, guarantee, s that we have the necessary graces to keep the commandments. That teaching aimed directly at those divine precepts which oblige under pain of sin, particularly of mortal sin. It may also be extended, though this conclusion is no longer infallible, to divine commands in a less strict serise of the word: to those expressions of the divine will which, though not binding under sin, .yet certainly manifest His desire ind. good pleasure. The Church's Authorit~I This latter is the case, as we well know, of the ordinary religious rules. We have a guarantee for it in the Church's approval both of religious life in general and of the particular religious institutes. The ¯ Church's sanction of the state oflife lived accordin'g to the three evangelical counsels is found in her age:old practice, which dates back td the early Cbristlan centuries, of approving and encouraging tbe monastic institute and the ascetical life. At the time of the Refor-mation it led to an infallible pronouncement, again at the Tridentine Council, by which she declared that the state of viriginity or celibacy is preferable to the state of Matrimony (DB 980). As to the appro-bation of particular institutes, theologians today are agreed in saying that in the solemn approval of religious orders the doctrinai judg-ment that the religious orders,, are apt means to reach Christian per-fection is covered by the Church's infallibility. In the less solemn .confirmation of other religious institutes, the Church's authority in-' volved is not the big.best; yet. that.approval also shares, according.to .the. degree, of the authority" that gives it, in the same fundamental guar.ant~.e:.of truth which is divine. Accordi,ngly? Catholic theology ¯' 257 P. DE LETTER Review for Religious is unanimous, in declaring that the obligation for religious to work for perfection according to the pattern designed in their respective laws is, because of the Church's approbation, the'clear expression of God's will for them. "On this doctrinal foundation rests the teaching of theologians who, like Suar~z, hold that the grace of a religious vocation includes the spe.cial supernatural aids required to live up to the ideal which is proposed to the religious by their institute. He wrote: "Since all ap-proved religious orders are deservedly regarded as founded by the special Providence of God, there is no doubt that each enjoys a'spe-cial divine assistance proportionate to its vocation, and hence greater in proportion as its institute is more exalted and difficult and organ-ized for the greater service of God and the more far-reaching good of the Church" (Rel. S.J., I, 6, 9). What holds good for reli-gious orders as a whole, also applies to the members. The graces of their vocation which effectively enable them to pursue the end of their institute are the concrete expression of the divine assistance that flows from God's special Providence over them. Religious, therefore, are building .their trust on the safe rock of Peter when they firmly believe in the grace of their vocation. More-over, does not the experience of the religioh~ life come to teach them that the Lord does not disappoint that trust? When and in the measure that they are faithful to their calling, they find out what these graces of our vocation mean in practice. Graces of Light and Strength As actual graces in general, so the graces of our vocation are of two kinds which, more often perhaps, are found together rather than isolated. First there is light for the mind, generally more affective and practical" than purely sp~e~uiative and cold (for they are meant to lead to action), by which the meaning and reality of the religious ideal, duties, privileges, favors, appear more clearly, more appealingly, and more exaltedly worthwhile. These' actual graces of light, on occa-sion standing out very markedly, at other times more dim yet really present, give a deeper and new understanding of the rules, of the ideal of poverty; chastity, obedience, of the community life and of our daily tasks of education, missionary work, medical charity, sacred "ministry so that the good works by which religious strive after sand-tity. take on their deep, often hidden, meaning. Together with that light goes a grace of strength and courage for'the will and heart, 25'8 September, 1951 THE GRACE OF OUR VOCATION tempering and steeling one"s whole moral an~ spiritual structure, actually enabling religious to live according to their light. These graces of fortitude, patience, and ability, make Jrpossible to keep up ¯ the effort for progress, and bravely and gladly to accept and take up the small and on occasion bigger crosses involved in the faithful ful-filment of their daily duties. These graces of strength, at times ex-perienced more forcibly, at other times, perhaps more commonly, perceived in humble and dim faith, smoothen the path towards per-fection which often is rough and always uphiIl. The remembrance of these graces received in the past is a precious confirmation" of Our faith and trust in the grace of our vocation. Condition of Our Trust That faith and trust is rightly ours on one condition: that we do, sincerely and hum.bly, what in us lies to answer the graces we receive. There is little need to insist on the first and foremost part in this cooperation with grace which we may take for granted, namely, that we live in the state of sanctifying grace. Progress in grace supposes the st'ate of grace. Unless the substance of the spiritual life be there, we cannot expect further grace~ for progress. These graces, according to the ordinary rule of Divine Providence, are usually given in proportion to oui" fidelity in accepting and answering them. One way of showing this desire of receiving and exploiting those graces is our faithful and insisting prayer for them. According to the hint of the Council of Trent we quoted above, our asking for graces may well be the condition for receiving them. We may even count on the abundant divine aids guaranteed by the grace of our vocation if we sincerely and generously trade for spiritual profit with those we receive. No doubt even then no one can vouch for it that he will never fail God's grace, even though grace does not fail him. We know it too well, human frailty remains in religious as well. And we need not be surprised at our daily faults of weakness which, we may confi-dently hope, involve but little guilty negligence. Provided. only we know how to exploit those very failings to deepen humility and a sense of our need of prayer and trust in the Lord, they do not seri-ously impair our fidelity to grace. Our desires and deeds continue then to express our sincere gratitude for God's great gift, our call to the religious life. Then we may and must always count on the grace of our vocation. 259' A Vocational Newspaper [Contact, a bright, four-page, two-year-old vocational newspaper from the arch-diocese of Boston, may be of interest to readers of the REVIEW who are not ac-quainted with it. The following description was written by a staff member of the publication. For further information write to: Director of Vocations, Room 622, 185 Devonshire St., Boston, M~,ss. ED.] Maintaining that "Personal contact between an interested priest or religious and a good potential candidate becomes the only real vocation program," Father Francis A. Barry, director of vocations in the Boston archdiocese, thought that a vocational newspaper might provide a natural occasion for conversation or 'even extended talks on religious vocations. The paper was given the significant name: Contact. Experience has shown the idea was a 'good one. Contact, a monthly during the school year, began publicati.o.n in October, 1949. His Excellency, the Most Reverend Richard J. Cushing, Archbishop of Boston, the founder of the special vocational program, is the adv.isory editor. The editor is Father Barry. He is assisted by eight associate, a makeup, and ten contributing editors. The latter include diocesan and religious priests, Brothers, and Sisters who write columns, features, reviews, and editorials. His Excellency financed the project during its initial year. The religious orders and congregations having houses in the archdiocese shared the major ex-pense since then. , Distributed gratis" to pupils of parochial or other Catholic schools, from the seventh grade through the senior year in school as well as to Sunday schools, rectories, and seminaries, the circulation now tops 50,000." Increased solely by ~ear-say advertising, the mailing li~t now re'aches out to thirty-one s.tates, the Philippine's, Cuba, Italy; France and Canada. The italicized, three-column, colored logotype carries the triple message: Information, Inspiration, and Action. To attract the young people's attention, each issue is printed with bright color spots, ac.cording to the season or month. Adjacent to some of the standing heads appears a small portrait of the editor of the column, showing his religio.us habit ahd giving his name and address. Feature pictures and action shots of'the apostolate of teaching or social service highlight each issue. Provocative headlines dot the pages: It Seems to Me . Horizons, Meet. some religious com- 260 September, 1951 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS ~nunity, Looking Out . thought from the seminary or the novi-tiate, Do You KnoW?, Parents" Column, and Around tile Diocese. Parochial high school reporters keep copy flowing to the desk of the editor of the last-mention~ed column. Contact reiterates the words of His Holiness, Pope Pius XII: "This vcJcation, thisloving call makes itself heard in manydifferent ways, as many as the infinite variety of accents in which the Divine Voice may speak: irresistible invitations, affectionate and repeated promptings,gentle impulses."--SISTER MARY REGINA, S.S.,J. Offering Communion t:or.Ot:hers Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. SISTER LOUISA sat placidly at her desk filling out the spiritual bouquet. It was the community's gift to Sistdr Mercedes who was to make her p~ofession next day. Sister Louisa was adding her contribution to the various specified good works-- rosaries, s{ations, visits, penances,, aspirations, Masses, Communions. It was an easy and congenial task and she contributed generously. But when she had finished, she found a question e.ngaging her mind,. a question she had never asked herself before. She had added five to the total of Commuriions to be offered for Sister Mercedes. 3ust what did it mean to offer Communion for somebody else? She ~had been doing it for many years. Her relatives and friends were always pleased when she told them that she would offer her Communion for them. Yet she had to confess now that she really did not know what she meant wh'en she told them that'she would offer her Communion for their intention. Many religious besides Sister Louisa have been puzzled by the same question. Nor is its answer easy to find. The purpose of this article is to clarify what we mean when we tell others that we are going to offer our Communion for them. It is important to remember that Communion produces certain effects that are inalienable. For instance, Communion automatically increases sanctifyin~ grace and most probably has the power,to con-fer more of this grade than any other sacrament. We do not transfer 261 - CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Ret~ieto for R'eligious any of this to others when we offer our Communion for them. Again, the increase of active love for Go~t and our neighbor which is the .special effect of the Eucharist and which depends on the fervor of our thanksgiving, is not surrendered by offering Communion for somebo~ly else. So too, the strength to resist temptations, the cooling of disordered feelings, since these are special though secondary effects of Communion and depend also on the fervor of one's thanksgiving, are incommunicable. The same is t6 be said of the additional right to a glorious bodily resurrection which is acquired by the worthy reception of Communion. Finally, the remission of venial sins which results automatically from Communion, if the recipient has sincerely revoked all wilful attachment to them, cannot be transferred to any other person. From all this it is ~lear that the principal benefits accruing from the Lord's Table remain with the communicant. In fact it might appear that no spiritual gifts remain which can lend real meaning to our promise to offer Communion for somebody else. But there are. When we ~o to Holy Communion we ordinarily do extra praying and a certain ambunt of mortification. We make a suitable prepara-tion and thanksgiving. We also fast beforehand. Now we all know that prayer and fasting are subjective acts of virtue, ~nd when made by a person in the state of grace, they have a three-fold value in the sight of God. For the sake of brevity, the theologians use tbre'e tech-nical words to express this three-fold efficacy. They say 'it is "meri-torious, satisfactbry, and impetrative." What they mean is that every act of virtue wins more sanctifying grace (meritorious efficacy), removes some temporal punishment (satisfactory), and pleads with God for spiritual and temporal favors (impetrative). In addition, therefore, to the sanctifying grace which comes spontaneously from each Communion, a person also gets more sanc-tifying grace from his acts of virtue elicited before and after receiving the sacrament. Since we can never give one iota of sanctifying grace, no matter by what means it is acquired, to another person, it is evi-dent that the grace proceeding from these acts of virtue at Commun-ion time is also retained by the communicant. However, the satisfactory and impetrative efficacy of these acts may be relinquished in favor of others when we offer Communion for them. Suppose we consider first the gift we make when we hand over the satisfactory fruits of our Communions. Ordinarily we are able to make a fitting preparation for the 262 oep*e,noer, I95 ! COMMUNION FOR OTHERS reception of Holy Communion. Not only do we fast, rise early, kneel down, but we also make acts of faith, hope, confidence, desire, humility, and perhaps acts of perfect love for God. Now each of these acts of penance and of prayer, by reason of our good subjective dispositions which accompany them, has the power to take away some temporal punishment. Moreover, since we are the ones who do the penance and say the prayers, we have the right to have our otot~ temporal punishment lessened by them. What happens, then, when we offer Communion for another? We transfer this incalculable benefit to the other party and, if he is in the state of grace, he receives it. The same is to be said of'the~ prayers we say at the moment when we receive our divine Lord and during the time that He remains pres-ent within us. We communicate the satisfactory value of all these prayers to the other person. Instead of shortening our own purga-tory we shorten the purgatory of another. We', so to speak, suffer vicariously and gratuitously for some one who has no real claim to our sacrifice. If we reflect for a moment, we shall also understand why the satisfactory efficacy of these virtuous acts preceding, accompanying, and following Holy Communion exceeds that produced by the same acts elicited at some other time. We suppose, of course, that our fer-vor (and by that we refer not to our feelings, but to our acts of will) would be equal in both instances. We shall also understand why Communion remits more temporal punishment than other prayers listed in a spiritual bouquet--for example, rosaries or visits to the chapel. We take for granted, of course, that our cooperation would be equally diligent and that the same number of acts of virtue would be made. Otherwise it could easily happen that a rosary re-cited devoutly and animated by many acts of virtue would remit more temporal punishment than a Communion prepared ~or and received listlessly and negligently. Buy other thin~s being on a par, there is an objective reason why Holy Communion should take away more temporal punishment than the rosary or other pious works. The truth of this statement rests .on the fact that ordinarily the acts of virtue we make in connection with Communion are more fer-vent (here again we do not refer to feelings of fervor) and more numerous than those evoked by other works of piety. This is pa.r-ticularly tru~ of the prayers we say during our thanksgiving' after Communion. And it should be noted that temporal punishment is 263 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious canceled in proportion to the fervor and number of our.tSrayers. But why should our prayers after Communion be more fervent? Because Christ is then physically present within us. As a result of His sacramental presence, both the number and the quality of the actual grac'es showered upon us are ~uperi6r to those which necessarily accompany every pious supernatural work. After Communion our Savior inserts a continuous stream of vivifying actual graces into our minds and hearts, and these graces have as their general object, not to arouse merely confidence or faith or humility, but love itself, the most noble of all the virtues. If we ponder these facts, we shall. readily see. why our prayers after Communion have a singular power to reduce the debt of punishment incurred by somebody else. So much for th~ satisfactory value of Holy Communion. We can be comparatively brief in treating of the sacrament's impetrati've fruit because it rests on the same principles we have been discussing. By offering Communion for others, v~e also mean that we trans-mit to them the petitional power of both our preparation and thanksgiving. The very same acts of virtue have not only a satis-factory, but also a pleading or intercessory value. They implore God to brant spiritual and temporal f~vors. Here again, since we are the ones who do the praying, we are the one~ who have a right to obtain the favors. But we,relinquish this right in fav~)r of other~ when we offer our Communion for them. We forget our own needs; we fore-go some benefits that would surely come to ourselves. ~re sacrifice ourselves for the other party. Of course, we must remind ourselves again that we cannot surrender those benefits that flow spontaneously from the Sacrament, such as the remission of venial sins, the growth in love for God and other people, the new title to everlasting glory and the curbing of unruly impulses. But there are many other spiritual and temporal favors that every person needs. There are .many that we ourselves need, even though we often do.not know precisely what" they are. Yet we forget our-. selves and transfer the intercessory vigor of our Communions to others when we offer Communion for them. It is like writing a let-ter of recommendation f6r som~ one else to obtain a benefit that you yourself need and have a right to; and it is a letter of recommenda-tion that you know is certain to be heeded. It is well to remember also that this impetrative efficacy of~Com-reunion is likewise of exceptional ~luality, just as the satisfactory efficacy, and for the same reason. The number and kind of actual 264 September, I~51 COMMUNION FOR OTHERS graces stirred up in the soul after. Communion exceed those accom-panying other good works. .Consequently if we co-operate with them, our acts of virtue will be correspondingly more fervent so that their pleading value is enhanced. Unfortunately, most of us probably do not pray explicitly "after Communion for the person for whom' we offer the Communion. This is, of course, not necessary since our intention made beforehand suffices to obtain for the otber~the satisfactory and impetrative fruits of the sacramefit. However, if we do remember to pray expressly for the' other person after we have received Communion, we shall un-doubtedly increase the value of our gift for him. It stands to reason that our Savior' listens to our. requests with a more willing ear when He is actually present within us with His Sacred Humanity. We recommend, therefore, the practice of praying explicitly after receiving Communion for the person to whom we relinquish the benefits. We may even ask Our Savior to grant certain spedfic favors, especially spiritual ones, to the other party. In conclusion, then, we cannot give away to anyone else the ¯ principal fruits of our Holy Communions. These we have itemized in the beginnihg. In addition to those listed, we might also add that when an indulgence is granted for the reception of Communion or for some prayer said,before or after receiving the Sacrament, we can-not offer it for another living person. Nevertheless, we do a singular favor foi others .when we offer a Communion for their intention. We sacrifice'for theirbenefit the satisfactory and impetrative fruits which are won by our acts of virtue preceding, accompanying, and follow-ing Holy Communion. MEDICO-MORAL PROBLEMS Medico-Moral Problems, Part III, by Gerald Kelly, S.J., contains complete dis-cussions of euthanasia, therapeutic abortion, organic transplantation,, and adult baptism. Also included are discussions of co-operation in illicit operations, the delivery of a. hydrocephalic infant, and lobotomy for pain relief. The booklet is published by the Catholic Hospital Association of the United States and Canada, 1438 South Grand'Blvd., St. Louis 4, Mo. 50 cents a copy; 12 for $5.25; 50 for $,20;' 100 for $37.50. Parts I and II can be obtained at the same place and at the same prices. 265 uestdons and Answers --20- An unexpected opportunity has arisen to sell a piece o{ communlt~ property {or $100,000, which is much more than we could get for it under normal circumstances. But the property must be transferred.withln ten days, otherwise the offer will be wlfhdrawn. VVhat shall we do about gefflng permission of the Holy See? Fortunately His Excellency, the Apostolic Delegate, now has faculties from the Sacred Congregation of Religious to permit the contracting of loans, sales, and alienations of property belonging to a religious institute, when the sum involved does not exceed a half million gold dollars, provided that the conditions laid down in canons 534 and 1531 be observed. We take this opportunity to inform our readers that the Sacred Congregation of Religious has also granted two other special facul-ties to the Apostolic Delegate: to dispense.religious for the reception of Holy Communion from the obligation of the Eucharistic fast so that they may take something by way of drink or m. edicin~, when their physician considers the keeping of the fast injurious to their health; also to shorten or prolong the postulancy prescribed by the Code of Canon Law (see Bouscaren, Canon Lau2 Digest, Supplement 1943-1948, p. 131, under canon 858). m2 I-- I have heard that permission of the Holy See is required {or th~ aliena-tion of notable relics and images. Is it proper ÷o infer that relics and ¯ venerated images may be bought and sold? Does his include sacred vessels? To .buy and sell is only one form of alienation. Hence it does not follow as a general rule that relics and venerated images may be bought and sold simply because the Holy See at times gives permis-sion to alienate such things. Since three distinct things are included in this question we think it advisable to treat each class separately. Relics. Canon 1289 states very plainly: "It is unlau~[ul (nefas) to sell sacred relics." To do so would be to commit a sin of simony. However, it would not be sinful to charge and pay for the metal case in which the relics are usuhlly inclosed. Canon 1281, § I tells us that "notable relics or precious images, and likewise all relics or images 266 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Which are honored in any church with great devotion on the part of the people, cannot be alier~ted validly nor transferred permanently to another church without the permission of the Holy See." What is me~tnt by notable relics? Paragraph two of canon 1281 gives us a list of notable relics: the body, head, arm, forearm, heart, tongue, hand, leg, or that part of the' body in which the martyr suffered, provided it be "entire and" not too small." Such relics may not be alienated without the permissi6n, of the Holy See. Since it is for-bidden to sell. relics, alienation here must be taken in its other meaning, that is, to give away, to lend, and the like. The permission of" the Holy See would be required also to alienate relics which °are not notable; provided that they are honored in a church with great devotion on the part of the faithful. Small relics in the possession of private persons do not come under canon 1281, but they may never be sold. Precious [maqes. Ecclesiastical goods (church property) are shid to be.precious,when they have a ~pecial value by reason of artistic, historical, or material content (canon 1497, § 2). An image is said to be precious if it was painted by a great artist, or was made of precious materials, and has a notable valu&, that'is, over 1000 gold life (about $335 in our present money). Such images, as well as others which are not precious but which may be called venerable because of the great devotion of the faithful towards them, may not be alienated without the permissiqn of the Holy See. Sacred Vessels. Things are said to be sacred when they are .destined for divine worship by reason of their consecration or con-stitutive blessing. Canon 1305 tells us that "an article of sacred equipment which is blessed or consecrated loses its blessing or conse-cration . . . if it has been put to degrading uses 6r has been exposed for public sale." On the other hand, canon 1539 states that "in the sale or exchange of sacred things no account of the consecration or blessing is to be taken in determining the price." We may say, there-fore, that sacred vessels may be sold privately by one individual to another, or by one moral person to another (a church or community to another church or community) provided no extra charge is made for the blessing or consecration. But sacred things may not be exhibited publicist for sale without losing tbeir blessing or consecra-tion. This applies principally to auction sales and to the placing of a sacred object in the window or in the show case of a store open to the public. 267 QUEST, IONS AND A .NSWERS Reuieu) for'Religious We may conclude by adding that a consecrated chalice and paten do not lose their consecration'by being regilded (canon 1305, § 2). May exfreme unction be admlnls+ered before any major opera÷ion? For the valid reception of extreme unction the subject must be in " danger of death ¯from sickness or old age. If the person who is to, undergo major surgery is already in this condition, he is capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation. It may be that this is ge~nerally the case, but it is not necessarily so. Some operations which may entail a great deal of danger are performed for removing some chronic condition which might not become dangerous, without the operation, for a long time. Such patients cannot be anointed before the operation. In practice, it is not easy to decide whether to anoint a person. before an operation or t6 hwait the outcome of the operation. ¯ There is no universally-established practice; nor could there be: Some patients are clearly not capable of receiving the sacrament before the operation; others are clearly capable; and still others are "borderline cases." Moreover, the pastor or chaplain has not merely to decide whether the patient can be validly anointed l~ut also to judge when the anointing would be most appropriate and beneficial. Our ¢ons+ffufions +el[ us +ha+ "[eff~rs fo +he S~s+ers as well as +hose senf by +hem shall pass +hrough ÷he hands of +he superior who may read +hem," In view of +hls s+a+emen+, may a eAenera[ chap+er eAranf +o 9olden jubilaHans +he prlvllecAe' of seal[n~ +belt leffers before ~ivlng ÷hem ÷o +hl superlor7 "-['he general chapter has no power to change the constitutiofis, unless the constitutions themselves give it that power, which is not likely. On the other hand, since the constitutions' do not oblige the superior 'to read all letters which pass through her hands, the general chapter could recommend that superiors refrain from reading the letters of golden jubilarians, but it could not take away the right to read them which is contained in the constitutions. The general chapter may likewise request that the constitutions be changed in this matter, if that be the wish of the majority. Such a request for a change in the constitutions would be made to the local ordinary in the case of a diocesan congregation, or to the Holy See (Co.ngrega-tion of Religious) in the case of a pontifical institute. 268 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Ret~iew /:or Religious m24-- Is the novice master to be present at the discussion of the general council which follows upon his report on the novices who are preparing for first professlon? Canon 563 reads as follows: "During the course of the year of novitiate, the master of novices, conformably to the constitutions, must present to the .chapter or the higher superior a report con-cerning the conduct of each of the novices." Strictly speaking there-fore, the master of novices makes his report to the chapter (in inde-pendent monasteries! or to the higher superior, but not directly to the gefieral council, unless the constitutions prescribe this. Hence a written report should be given the higher .superior who, in turn, will communicate it to the general council. Many constitutions have an article based on art. 300 of the Norrnae which says that "whenever in the general council the novices or the novitiate is discussed, the mistress should be called, who will make known her mind on the subject under discussion, or submit opportune information." There will be no need (and certainly no obligation) for the master of novices to remain at the council session after he has given the infor-mation prescribed by canon 563. If necessary, h~ can always be called back for further information. ~-25-- Is it permissible for sick Sisters who are not completely bedridden to ¯ receive Holy C~ommunion by the cell of a Sister who is confined perman-ently to her bed. These Sisters can manage to get around although the doctor's orders are that they rest as much as possible. Likewise the sana-torium in which they stay has' an elevator and the chapel is on the first floor. The general rule is that all should receive Holy Communion in the chapel if they can conveniently do so. If the Sisters are so sick that they are obliged to miss Holy Mass, even though they are up and about their rooms or in the corridor, they may receive Holy Com-munion on the floor on which they li~'e. As to the elevator: if the Sisters use .it to go to'another floor for their meals, then they should use it likewise to go to the chapel to receive Holy Commu'nion. In general one may say that if going to the chapel for Holy Com-munion would lengthen the time for the Eucharistic fast, or would put ar~ additional strain upon a sick Sister who is not confined to her 269 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS Review [or Reh'gious bed, she may receive Holy Communion on the floor on which she lives. --26-- Is the practice of saying I000 Hall Marys on the Feast of the Annun-ciation ÷o be considered a superstition? Everything. will depend upon the motive a person has in re-peating the Hail Mary that often on the Feast of the Annunciation. If this is done simply out of love for Our Lady, there is nothing wrong with it, since, it is a laudhble act of devotion. ~If, on the other hand, the practice were based upon a ~purious ,revelation, or a sup-posed efficacy which it does not have of its own nature (that of intercessory prayer), then it might be superstitious. New Medi!:a!:ion Books Like St. Teresa of'Avila, many religious,need a meditation book for many years to help them in their prayer. Four such books, writ-ten as helps for contact with God in prayer, have recently been pub-lished or reprinted. The authors are a German Capuchin, an Ameri-can Jesuit in India, an American Benedictine, and a Hungarian bishop. The books vary in purpose, content, and form. Direct, ~arnest, Practical One of the books is the fourth volume of MEDITATIONS by Father Bernardine Goebel, O.F.M.Cap., translated by Father Berch- 'mans Bittle, O.F.M.Cap. Adapted for the use of the Friars Minor Capuchin, the direct, earnest, and practical reflections will help any follower of the Gospel. The present volume is for the'time from Trinity Sunday to the Twelfth Sunday biter Pentecost. The meditation for Sundays is usually on the Gospel of the.day. Some of the topics developed f6r the course of a week are the Eucharist, the Mass, faith, hope, char!W, and love of .neighbor. Each meditation begins with a brief sum-mary of the meditation followed by a brief introductory paragraph, develbps two points w.ith a consid,eration and*application, and ends with a prayer. (Province of St. Joseph, 1740 Mt. Elliott Ave., Detroit 7, Michigan, 1950. Pp. 264. $2.50.) Prodac~ of Missionarg Zeal From the 'mission.field ~f Ifidia comes MEDITATIONS FOR EVERY 270 " September, 1951 NEW MEDITA'FION BOOKS DAY by Rev. P. J. Sontag; S.J. It has recently been reprinted in an attractive two volume set. The first volume containin~ I87 medi-tations covers the first half of the liturgical year from Advent to Trinity Sunday. The second volume complete~ the year bringing the total number to 369. Most of the meditations are based on the life of Christ. Meditations on the Apostles Creed, the Our Father, the sacraments, on social justice and Catholic Action are included, as ¯ ycell as meditations for the First Fridays, the lit.urgical feasts, feasts of special saints, and over twenty meditations "honoring Mary. Though the meditations'were l~repared specifically for the l~iity, priests, seminarians, and all religious will find them belpful. Each meditation fias two or three (the. additional gives the account from Scripture) preludes and three ¯points which contain ample matter for reflection. For the colloquy, the author modestly hnd wisely con-fines himself to suggesting the person, Our Lord or a saint, to ad-dress. The set belongs to the Science and Culture Series and has a preface by the general editor, Joseph Husslein, S.J. (The Bruce Publishing Company, 400 N. Broadway, Mil,waukee 1, Wisc., 1950. Pp. I, xviii q- 476; II, ix q- 466. $10.00.) Goal ol: Monasticism Volume three completes THE.SCHOOL OF THE L, ORD'S SERVICE by, Rev. Bernard A. Sause, O.S.B. (author of "Bene, dicti~e Spirit-uality," REVIEW, X, 7). The set gives a meditation based on the Rule of St. Benedict for every day of the" year. The present volume for the ninth to the twelfth month contains the text of the Rule of St. Benedict and thirty meditations on ea'cb .of the foll~)wing four subjects: spirit of detachment: good zeal': practices, interpretations. and attitudes that have grown from the Rule: and intimate union with God. There is a bibliography and a composite index for the three volumes. Each meditation contains a carefully developed consideration, an examen for the day, and a practical application. The considerations are enriched by quotations, examples, and commehts ~arnered from Benedictine tradition, The sources are given after each meditation. The author's" development of zeal is especially noteworthy. He pre-sents the virtue of zeal in a concrete, appealing'manner by singling out for each day of the month a Benedictine monk, nun, or lay Brother who exemplified some aspect of zeal in his or her life. Not all of the exam, plats are canonized saints. The book deserves and 2'71 NEW MEDITATION BOOKS rewards a careful, prayerful reading. (St. Meinrad, Indiana: The. Grail, 1951.' Vol. iII, Pp. vi q- 575. $4.00.) Devotion and Inspiration Rt. Rev. Ottokar Proh~szka, bishop of Sz~kefeh~rvfir, who died on March 28, 1927, was an outstanding and saintly prelate and a gifted, prolific writer. His MEDITATIONS ON THE GOSPELS are brief, s.wift-moving reflections on the entire life of Our Lord. He presents a text from the New Testament, gives a few short reflections, and leaves preludes, affections, and colioquies to the exercitant. The meditations should be a source of devotion and inspiration to many. The author w!;ites in the introduction to his work: '"I am come that they may have life, and may have it more abundantly.' I wish to serve this purpose of Jesus at His Incarnation, and to that end I am sending this book out into the world. It is intended to assist in the development of the life of Cbrist within our souls . Christ is God Himself in human shape, and I have to adore Him, and delight in His sublime beauty, in the depth and unique quality of His Soul, in the powerful originality of His mind, in the charm which He diffuses and in the life which flows forth from Him. My soul hangs upon His lips and hearkens to His every word. I see God reflected in Him as in a mirror; I bow my head upon His bands and surrender my heart to Him. He is God's Instrument; He will form me and harmonize thd conflicting elements within me." The present Newman edition bad three volumes fin one. The authorized translation from the Hungarian is by Margaret de Pill. Father C. C. Martindale, S.J., has written the foreword. (Wes.t-minster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1951. Pp.: I, xiv + 229; II, ix + 322; III, viii + 282. $5.50.) SPIRITUAL BOOK ASSOCIATES (381 Fourth Ave., New York 16, N.Y.) September Selection--R. Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Our Saviour and His Love for Us. $6.00. October Selection--Henri Petitot, O.P. The True Story of Saint Bernadette. (Cf. REVIEW, May '51, p. 161). $3.50. 272 ¯ 8ook Reviews THE HISTORY OF THE POPES. By Ludwlcj yon Pastor. Translated by E. F. Peeler. Vol. 36: Benedict XIV (1740-1758). Pp. 513; Vol. 37: Clement XIII (1758-1769). Pp. 4S8. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Missouri. $5.00 per volume. This REVIEW (September, 1950) carried a notice of Volume 35 of the English Pastor, showing Pope Benedict XIV in the opening years of his pontificate working "with a pistol at his head," 'a weapon held by Catholic sovereigns demanding that he let them run the Church as well. ' It was particularly in m'eeting their concerted attack on the Society of ,lesus that Benedict XIV fought for his papal powers. Now Volume 36, the latter part of Benedict's pontificate, and 37, that of Clement XIII, come t6 hand, and their entire content is predominantly devoted to later phases of this titanic contest. Even so they bring the st.ory only to the end of the second last Act, and tfien break off while the~ translator works on the ddr~otternent. Will the Society, in the end, be suppressed? Will this regiment, of twenty-two thousand religious, in some forty provi,ces, 600 col-leges and over 1400 churches, be sacrificed? Read the next volume to foll~w shortly. To religious of both sexes, and members of whatever type of canonical organization, this story cannot but have deep and abiding interest. That it chanced to be the Ignatian Society against which the storm broke was because it was the "Swiss Guard" of the day, and the ruler of the Swiss Guard can expend his troops in battle, or order them back to the barracks to disband. Despite the faults and human weaknesses of the papacy's de-fenders, the story leaves them with the honorable distinction of. "canonical" death in the line of duty. Certain European monarchs were persuaded that the papacy had to be cut down to reasonable size. As the Minister Tanucci put it (37, 13) : "Certainly the primacy of the Pope was incontestable; he was the supreme head and centre of the Church; he had the right to summon a General Council, and he was infallible, but only when 15e made decisions in conjunction with the Bishops. But the Papacy in the form it had assumed in his day would have to. be abolished." 273 BOOK REVIEWS "The only way to treat the Pope was to . . . kiss his feet and bind his hands'~ .(28). So, under forms of exquisite politeness and courtly'deference, a violent strtiggle was waging. If the current tyranny of atheisti~ Commu, nism were being carried, on under the appearance of Catholic Leadership, if Marshal Stalin had his official minister at the Vatican to shape Catholic policy,.we could all the easier understand the high and mighty language of "unavoidable administrative necessity" that permeates these endless pages of eighteenth century despotism: It was proved with mathematical precision again and again that the mon-archs were but acting for the Church's good in withstanding the Pope, etc. Have we not heard these tunes being aired in our own day? Will it. be different in the twenty-second century, or the twenty-fifth? Details are all irrelevant; the contest wages still: evil has not prevailed, but it availeth much--GERALD ELLARD, S.J. THE LOVE OF GOD AND THE GROSS OF JESUS. By ÷he Rev. Regl-nald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Transl~÷ed by Sisfer Je~n~e Marle, O.P. Volume Two. Pp. vi q- 461. B. Herder Book C;o., Sf. Louis, 1951. $~.00. This volume carries forward and completes Father Garrigou- Lag~ange's studies on divine love and the perplexing trials that are apt to befall souls fairly far advanced in the way of that love. Briefly this is the content of it. Part one deals with "crosses of the senses." These ar4 understood to be just what St. 3ohn of the Cross describes as "the night of sense," and hence here we ,have Fr. Garrigou-Lagrange's interpretation of that portion of St. 3ohn's doctrine. Correspondingly the second part is taken up with St. dohn's !'night of the spirit." Both sections, therefore, are concerned with what one might term the dark, distressing, disconsolate, phase of the mystical life. Part three is headed, "The Life of Union through desus and Mary." Among the themes considered are the inhabita-tion of the Blessed Trinity, the unity and sublimity of the apostolic life, the priesthood of Christ, His kingship, the Blessed Virgin Mary as a model of reparation, and St. 3oseph as a model of the hidden life and first among the saints. As parts one and two would com-fort'and strengthen one who is suffering, the rigors of the night of the soul, so this third part has much that is positively very magnificent and inspiring. The Three Ages of the Interior Life is expressly offere~l to the 274 September, 1951 BOOK REVIEWS public by Ft. Garrigou-Lagrange as a synthesis of this work and Christian Perfection and Contemplation (vol. I, v). Hence it shares in the merits and demerits of that larger and later work. These were discussed at length pro and con'in this REVIEW previously (Novem-ber, 19'49, pp. 297-317; March, 1950, 78-95). ' Since The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus was subsequently incprporated in The Three Ages and presented there in the form which the author now prefers, it seems rather surprising that it should be translated and published at this time. Except for scholars who wisl~ to see both studies, one who wants Fr. Garrigou- Lagrange's ideas on these matters should preferably seek them in the later and more definitiire work--AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. THE GIFTS OF THE HOLY GHOST~ By John of St. Thomas. Trenslated fro~ the Latin by Dornin~c Hucjhes, O.P. With e Foreword by Walter Farrell, O.P. Pp. x -f- 293. Sheed end Ward, New York, 19SI. "$3.7S. Now Fr. Hughes has done, and in beautiful form, for English readers what Madame RaissaMaritain did a number of years ago for the French, that is, he has made a translation of the celebrated

Issue 9.5 of the Review for Religious, 1950. ; A.M.D.G. Review for Religious °~Venial Sin r o P. De LeHer Sensitiveness . Winfrld He;bst On Family Spirit . . ¯ . Gerald Kelly Christ on W)nnincj Friends . Jerome Breunlg ~uestions and Answers Book Reviews Report to Rome VOLUME IX NUMBER RI::VII:::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS VOLUME IX SEPTEMBER, 1950 NUMBER 5 CONTENTS VENIAL SIN--P. De Letter, S.J . ¯ . 225 SENSITIVENESS---Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S ." . 233 FOR YOUR INFORMATiON-- Suggestions for Superiors General; Vocational Questions; Medlco-Moral Problems; Catholic Dailyi C~nfessors' ~Patron; Sisters of St. Joseph; "Mike"; Reprint Series . ~. 236 ON FAMILY SPIRIT--Gerald Kelly, S.J . 237 CHRIST SHOWS US HOW TO WIN FRIENDS--Jerome Breunig, S.J: 252 " BOOK REVIEWS-- Our Way to the Father; The History of the Popes; The Holy See at Work; .Little Meditations on the Holy Eucharist . 256 BOOK NOTICES . . , '. . . ' . 261 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 262 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 21. Jubilee Indulgence . , 265 22. Permission for Trips . 265. 23. Authority to Change a Custom . 266 24. What are Norrnae? . 266 25. Collective Nouns Applicable to Sisters . 267 26. Meaning of "the rule." . . 268 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 268 REPORT TO ROME . 269 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ,September, 1950. Vol. IX, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: January, March,May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January" 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.3., Gerald Kelly, S.3. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S.J. Copyright, 1950, by Adam C~ Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable lengtb, p~ovided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscript,on price: 2 dollars a~year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writin9 to us, please consult notice on Inside beck cover. Venial Sins " P. De Letter, S.J. \ SPIRITUAL authors commonly teac, h that a sure sign of fervor in a religious is the hab.itual avoiding of venial sins, just as tepidity betrays itself in frequent and lightly-committe, d daily faults. Between these two dispositions which are neatly character-ized in their, extreme types is a nearly indefinite number of degrees. The steady effort of good religious aims at approaching the ideal of fervor, which implies a constant care to exclude from one's daily life whatever is sinful. It is worthwhile to consider this negative aspect of the striving for religious perfection, not because it is more important than the positive practice of virtue, especially of charity tov)ard~ God and neighbor, but because this refraining from all that is evil is easily ascertainable and consequently serves as an unmistakable indication of genuine fervor. Concerning this negative aspect of perfection, two questions may be asked: (1) when exactly do we commit a venial sin? (2) what is normally possible, or not possible, as regards the avoidance of venial sins? The first question aims at outlining clearly the scope of the matter under discussion with a view to cen-tering our attention on the really sinful objects and not on what is mistakenly called sinful. The second purposes to define the bound-ari4s within which our efforts may be successful, thus eliminating the danger of expecting what may well be beyond human powers. 1) When do we commit a venial sin? The question is clear and simple. And so is the answer--in the-ory. But how does it work out in practice? When is a thought or a desire or a word or an action a venial sin and not merely a positive imperfection, that is, something which is less good than its opposite .or than its omission but which is not sinful in itself?1 The question lln holding firmly to a distinction between venial sin and positive imperfection, Father De Letter is following what seems to us to be the more common and the better opinion. For a very fine presentation of the contrary opinion, especially with reference to the teaching of St. Thomas and the Thomistic school, see The Morality of Imperfections, by J. C. Osbourn, O.P. We might add here that even theologians holding the same opinion as Father De Letter might find difficulty in agreeing on a list of examples of either small venial sins or positive imperfections. For instance; one of the examples that Father De Letter later gives of venial sin ("deliberate thoughts or words of vanity which reveal an inordinate self-concern or self-esteem") might also be given as an example of a positive imperfection. 225 .P. DE LETTER Ret~ietu/:or Religious is worth asking because-a different, judgment isto be made of what is sinful and what is riot. We commit a sin whene~'er we knowingly and voluntarily go against the manifest preemptive will of God, that is, when we do or choose what He forbids, or neglect what He commands. The sin is venial only, and not mortal, when either the knowledge or advertence or the voluntariness is imperfect or partial (even though the matter be grave), or when the object of the sinful act itself is light whether of itself, as in a harmless lie, or because of parvity of matter, as in a small theft. Accordingly there is a first category of venial sins which may be called defective or miscarried mortal sins. Though of less practical importance for our present purpose, these must be mentioned briefly. They are the sinful actions (or thoughts, etc.) which ordinarily would be grave sins but happen to be venial sins on account of incomplete advertence or voluntariness. In other words, since they are imperfect as human acts, they are also .imperfect as sins. This may be the case with thoughts or desires against purity which are o.nly half noticed or half consented to; or with words or actions against chhrity when the gravity or harm involved is in good faith neither realized nor intended. Though faults of this kind may evi-dently occur in the life of a religious, they are not the ordinary "daily" sins which we are here .considering. Consequently a mere mention of them suffices. The other class of venial sins consists of those thoughts, desires, words, or deeds which of their nature involve only light guilt. Yet, even these are not subjectively sinful unless they are deliberately willed with the realization that they are sinful. In other words, these three conditions must be fulfilled, even in a venial sin: (a) actual knowledge-~either implicit or explicit, clear or confused--that some-thing is sinful; (b) some degree of voluntariness, at least incom-plete; and (c) an evil object, that is, the thing done is, or is thought to be, contrary to a divine command or prohibition. Whenever any one of these three elements is entirely absent there can be no question of even venial sin (except in so far as a culpable negligence might be at the root of them). According to these requirements, an unnoticed distraction in prayer is not a venial sin (as long as it is unnoticed); nor is an unheeded imagination or thought of self-complacency; nor a reflex reaction to some exterior stimulus, such as a sign of impatience; nor an uncharitable thought or unkind word which, without any fault 226 September, 1950 VENIAL SINS of our own, we fail to perceive. In all these cases the first element required for a venial sin--namely, actual knowledge--is lacl~ing. Similarly, the element of voluntariness is absent, for example, in the case of a harassing distraction in prayer which is noticed but not accepted (that is, sincerely rejected); or in a persistent but resisted unkind thought; or in an uncharitable remark that escaped before we could control ourselves. Finally, no positive command of God is disregarded by the omission of an exercise of devotion which is not obligatory; or by not choosing a more perfect andmore difficult way of performing one's duty; or by contenting oneself with what is good without preferring the better; or by recreating well and taking natural relaxation with less supernatural motives; or by talking during times of silence without necessity though not without some usefulness. All these actions .are in themselves good, even though they are less good than other ways of acting. There is not, how-ever, on that score, anything sinful in them. But when thoughts, desires, words, or deeds combine all three elements mentioned: awareness, voluntariness, evil object, they must be called what they are, venial sins. Noticed and accepted distractions in prayer mean irreverence towards the Almighty and consequently are sinful. Thoughts or words against charity which are conscious and voluntary go against the good will we owe all children of God and therefore are sins. The same must be said of a lackof self-control which is voluntary, and of wilful impatience by which we deliberately cause pain to others. Deliberate thoughts or words of vanity which reveal an inordinate self-concern or self-esteem are venial sins because they offend against truth and humility. Thefts of small things, or a lie which is not unjust, a lack of self-control in the matter of food, all these are, supposing some awareness and voluntariness, venial faults because they involve an evil object. Since in all these failings the degree of conscious and free consent may vary, the degree of guilt will also vary accordingly. At times the guilt will be slight, at other times more serious. Often enough it will be difficult for us to determine bow much wilfulness and guilt is involved. But then we may safely leave the estimate to Him who reads the hearts of men. All this teaching of the spiritual authors and moralists looks elementary enough, and so it is. Yet it might be good to stress this one particular point: when in our own daily lives we find defective ways of thinking, speaking, or acting which totally lack any one of 227 P. DE LETTER Ret;iew ~'or Retigious the three conditions of venial sinfulness, we may truthfully and peacefully consider that they are not sins--unless, perhaps, there be some more.or less guilty negligence in their root cause. Consequently, we need not confess them nor endeavor to be sorry for them though we can rightly be sorry for the previous negligence which may be the cause of them. They may well be humbling and unpleasant defects which serve to mortify us. But before God and in our conscience they do not harm us spiritually. No one will doubt all this. Yet it not infrequently happens (as personal experience amply proves) that although we realize full well what we should do from a theoretical point of view, nevertheless, in pr.actice, we are unable to act accord-ingly. If the aforementioned defects are not sinful, there is no humil-ity or sanctity in speaking or acting as if they were. (This does not mean, of course, that there can be no true humility in acknowledging our negligence which is the cause of them.) If they are not evil they do not give rise to th~ spiritually harmful effects which are inherent in venial sins. More particularly, they do not cool the fervor of our charity towards God and neighbor, nor do they prepare the way for serious lapses. Whatever evil is in them lies in their root cause only. Shall we conclude that we need not concern ourselves about them at all? This conclusion would not be fully warrantdd and would not harmonize with the fundamental endeavor of religious life which aims at more than the avoidance of sin. It is right to conclude that we need not see sins where sins do not exist. We should, however, be careful about these morally guiltless defects which may well spring from some not guiltless negligence and easily turn us in the direction of sinfulness. Many of the examples quoted above would cease to be sinless as soon as some degree of awareness and wilfulness would enter into them. The care to be taken concerning them evidently does not consist in directly going against them; in most cases that is practically impossible. But they can be eliminated partially by slowly and patiently building up within ourselves strong psycho-logical habits, which incline us in the opposite direction. For example, if we develop a general disposition of kindness and good will, we slowly create in ourselves a "second nature" that will by itself prevent many an unkind thought or word. As to actual practice, must we believe that it is relatively easy for religious to commit venial sins? At times we are led to believe that we could hardly live an hour or fulfill our ordinary daily duties without committing some venial sin or other. Every idle word, every vain thought, every complacency in success seems to be sinful to 228 September, 1950 VENIAL SINS some extent. May we hope that this fear or opinion is somewhat exaggerated ? Different temperaments and different views may incline different people either to severity or to leniency. But no one will deny the principle which both the severe and the lenient must respect: that the degree of free consent to a forbidden object (which in the case of venial sins is something not grievously evil) constitutes the measure of guilt. Without voluntariness there is no guilt and no sin. The divergencies of opinion will, then, stem from the different estimates as to how much freedom of consent is involved in our defective actions. 2) What is normallv possible, or not possible, in avoiding venial sins? This question may seem somewhat surprising. But it is impor-tant that we ask it and find an answer to it if our endeavor to exclude venial sins from our lives is to be enlightened and effective. It would be useless and harmful in the long run to strive after what is impos-sible. SOoner or later such a course of action would inevitably lead to discouragement in the face of repeated apparent failures. So, too, it would be prejudicial to our spiritual progress if we mistakenly did not try to do what is feasible. In this matter we are not left to personal conjectures and reason-ings or to the teachings of private authors. The Church.has given bet own authoritative and even infallible teaching. Four centuries ago the Council of Trent defined against the Protestants that a man in the state of grace is unable "during the whole of his life to avoid all sins, even those that are venial, except by a special privilege from God such as the Church holds in regard to the Blessed Virgin." And when explaining bow venial sins of their nature do not destroy the state of sanctifying grace the same Council conceded that "during this mortal life men, however holy and just, fall at times into at least light and daily sins which are also called venial." This is a most precious hint which must preserve our endeavor both from presump-tion and from dejection. It clearly states what we'must not expect, and what, therefore need not surprise or disappoint us. We cannot hope to exclude from our whole lives all venial sins; we shall not succeed, however saintly or advanced in the spiritual life we may be. Unless we can count on a special privilege such as our Blessed Lady had received we should be trying and promising ourselves the impos-sible. And who would claim for himself this privileged treatment 229 P. DE LETTER Reoieto /:or Religious which is altogether exceptional (the Council of Trent mentions only one.exception, the Blessed Virgin) ? We need not, therefore, be aston-ished or disheartened if, in spite of our best efforts and after long fidelity to the inspirations of grace, we still at times fall into light or daily faults. This is the common lot, the Church says, of the saints. We surely do not expect to be better than the saints, nor shall we be disappointed when we come to know from experience that we are not. But lest some one might find in this doctrine of the impossi-bility of avoiding all venial sin a pretext for taking things easily, the Church has carefully weighed her words. She has infallibly defined only this: It is not possible without a special privilege to avoid all venial sins during an entire lifetime. Whatever is less than this no longer comes within her infallible teaching. Strictly speaking, therefore, it may be true that some saints, even without a special privilege, would commit, say, only two or three venial sins during their whole lives. Even then the Church's definition would remain intact. But this interpretation obviously minimizes her teaching. Her mind is clearly different. She grants that even saints sometimes fall into light sins. How often, she does not say. But she definitely seems to say, from time to time. And it would follow logically that this frequency will vary according to the degre~ of virtue or sanctity or moral strength which a saint has reached. The Church's. teaching, therefore, cannot offer any pretext for an easy-going life. But it is a valuable safeguard against presumption or discouragement. It pre-serves us from attempting the impossible. But the impossible is a distant limit to which we can always approach nearer and nearer, for we can almost indefinitely reduce the number of our small sins. In this connection we should recall the twofold division of venial sins commonly given by spiritual writers: first, the fully voluntary or deliberate venial sins which one commits calmly and with unham-pered freedom, precisely because they are onltj venial and nothing serious; secondly, the venial sins of weakness in which the volun-tariness is only partial and diminished by surprise, or inattention, or fatigue, or listlessness, or some other reason, but in which there still is a sufficient degree of advertence and free consent to make them guilty and to make us responsible for them. This difference in venial sins is well known from experience; each one can no doubt trace it in his own life. Now. it is clear enough that we are able with God's grace to exclude from our daily lives the first category of venial_sins. We can 230 September, 1950 VENIAL SINS make up our minds and be determined not deliberately to commit any venial sins. Since these are fully deliberate, it depends on our free wills alone to commit or not to commit them. From the very nature of the case, we are not here taken by surprise. If we were, there would no longer be question of fully deliberate faults. And our free will cannot be t:orced into a completely free consent; it is we ourselves who decide. Many theologians, it is true, declare that Christians do not in fact avoid all deliberate venial sins during a whole lifetime with the ordinary graces they receive. Because of our innate weakness we some time or other lose sight of the determina-tion not to sin venially. Yet, with growing fidelity to grace and growing abundance of graces these faults can, in those approaching to perfection and sanctity, be eliminated altogether from their daily lives. Accordingly, it is not this class of venial sins which the Church mainly had in mind when she declared tb~t it is impossible for a just man to avoid them entirely during his ~ hole life. What Trent infallibly declared pertains to the second kind of venial sins, which are not fully deliberate. Even saints cannot with-out a special privilege avoid all such sins of weakness. Will this sur-prise any one? Catholics who believe in the fall of m~n and in original sin with its moral consequences on our human nature and on its efforts for good, will expect this. Our weak human nature would require, in order never to be taken by surprise by attractive and pleasing but forbidden objects, a vigilance and self-control so con-stant and so uninterrupted that ir is normally beyond our human strength. Much, of course, depends on the environment in which we live and on the virtuous habits and moral strength we have acquired. Where little or no occasion or temptation arises it is not hard to maintain the degree of watchfulness which bars complete surprise. And for the advanced in virtue and the strong of character, for the humble and the recollected, the charitable and the pure, invitations to sin will be fewer and less attractive. Even they, however, will " have their moments of weakness when they are caught off: guard and when they ball-knowingly, half-willingly do, say, desire, or think what they should not. We cannot expect that this kind of venial sins will ever be fully banned from our lives. We can never feel entirely safe and secure against their attacks. All we can do, and all we oug~hot to do, is by indirect action to try to diminish their number and to decrease the measure of wilfulness and.guilt in them. This effort can and should advance on a nearly indefinite scale leading us always closer and closer to the limit pointed out in the Church's 231 19. DE LETTER Review For Religious teaching. And this goal is our best endeavor. Venial sins, even the semi-deliberate ones, do spiritual harm in many ways. The harm decreaseswith the decreasing guil't, but it remains proportioned to the guilt. From all this it f611ows that a twofold result can be achieved by all of us in the matter of avoiding venial sins. First, we can with the help of grace that is always at our disposal, bann from our lives all fully deliberate venial sins. Secondly, we are able, with the help of the same grace, notably to diminish the number and the guilt of the half-deliberate ones. As regards the avoidance of fully deliberate venial sins, nothing more need be said. The thing has only to be done. But to avoid the semi-deliberate sins, we must concentrate on indirect tactics. We can increase our watchfulness against surprise attacks and make sure that this watchfulness does not relax to the point of dangerous neglect. We can counterac' the causes of unguardedness. And that practically means to grow in virtue and moral strength; for strong virtue can counterbalance the weakness of human nature which is the root cause of our being caught unawares. This indirect action against venial sins is to be applied according to each one's special needs. Each one has to develop those virtues and that moral fortitude which go against the kinds of venial sin to which he is ordinarily tempted. Some insist on charity because they easily fail in that line; they ought to cultivate a general disposition of kindliness in thought, word, and deed; both in prayer and outside of prayer they can thus build up a habit which will be a permanent counterweight against hasty and almost reflex unkind actions. Others are prone to thoughtless and selfish words and actions which are prompted by a natural urge to self-seeking 'and self-assertion: they should develop recollected self-control with the natural means of peacefulness and will power and the supernatural aids of a living' spirit of faith, a sincere and exclusive desire of what God wants, and a spiritual depreciation of all that concerns self only. These examples indicate what is meant by in-direct action against half-deliberate venial sins. The idea is to coun-teract the roots of weakness and inattention from which these faults normally spring. It is possible to paralyze these causes of sins in an ever-increasing measure.' The more we grow in virtue and holiness, the less become our faults in number and guilt. Religious approach this ideal of purity of heart in the measure of their fervor. And their advance in the spiritual life also depends proportionately on the purity of their lives. It is, therefore, impera- 232 September, 1950 SENSITIVENESS tive to know and to do what can be done .with. regard to our daily faults. The more generous and sincere our endeavor in this regard, the more truly shall we be what the religious profession demands of its followers: .giving our best endeavor to acquire the perfection of the Christian life. SensiEiveness Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. THyoAuT t hwea ost ha'e rv edrayy c. aInt dseide msesl ft-hreavt ealsa tai orne lwighioicuhs Iy ¯oruec weiavnetd t ofr obme as open as one can prudently be, as ~lear as water in a crystal vase. You tell me that you have marked down sensitiveness, ~/our inor-dinate sensitiveness, as your very character itself, .and that you have made resolutions accordingly. Humility in all its forms was, and is to be, your weapon,against this fault of character. You tell me that your sensitiveness is the direct offspring of pride and self-love, and that already¯ some years ago you recognized it as .the great enemy against which you must fight unceasingly. 7y'ou believe that you have made just a little headway against it but that much still remains to be done. Very frankly you tell me that your sensitiveness injures you somewhat as follows. Following a reproof, a censure, an admoni-tion, sometimes even the slightest, you become intensely excited interiorly; you feel bitter and hard. Then come unkind thoughts, bitter reflections, inconsiderate criticism, plans to drop or change reso-lutions, temptations against your vocation, discouragement. You state that absolute silence is your only safety then; for were you to speak you would become violent and say things which you would certainly regret, but which, because of your pride,, you might never retract, to your great spiritual danger. Often you are thrown into this state by a single look of disapproval or by something which is done by an individual or by the community that is not to your liking. You add that a strange phase of your sensitiveness is that it is often aroused even by things which are not intended as offensive. This being so, something must be done. And you ask me to tell you what. 233 WINFRID HERBST Review ~or Religious I do veril~r believe that you cannot get rid of your sensitiveness as such, as a natural quality. But in your striving after religious perfection you certainly can keep it down; you can direct it into the proper channels. You can be sensitive about your Heavenly Father's business. To say, "I will not let my pride get the upper hand in the future," would be a useless resolution. What you must do is con-vince yourself that there is nothing in you or about you in which you may of yourself glory and boast. In other words, as you your-self s~uggest, you must acquire humility; and since the best way to acquire it is to practice it, you must let no day pass without seeking occasions to do so and you must from time to time make it the sub-ject of your particular examen according to Rodriguez. But I would have you remember that humility is in every way compatible with manliness, courage, 'resolution, magnanimity, a longing to do great things, a will to win. With St. Paul you may say, "I can do all things." But you must not fail to add in all sin-cerity and humility, "In Him who strengthens me." Humility is truth; and this assertion of St. Paul's is always true. In the proper discharge of your duties you must have a certain confidence; in your studies you need a certain ambition. But all things must be with God and for God, not for self and for men. And, of course, this confidence, courage, and resolution should not show itself in self-praise. How can you boast of that which you have not of yourself, of that which has been given you? You have in a special manner received everything from God: your wonderful vocation, your remarkably good health, your mod-erate endowments, your love of order and exactness, your zeal in religious observance. You simply need confidence and resolution. Cultivate it, then, especially interiorly. I would really like to impress it upon you very earnestly that you may and must have con-fidence in yourself, provided always that self is wholly and humbly lost in God and leaning upon Him, upon Him in whom you can do all things. Confidence in yourself--yes; but at the same time be deeply im-bued with the conviction of your own nothingness. Be persuaded that it is vain and ridiculous to wish to be esteemed because of certain endowments received as a loan from God. Practice acts of meekness, patience, obedience, mortification, sor-row for sin, the renunciation of your own feelings and opinions, and the like. 234 September, 1950 SENSITIVENESS If no attention is paid to you, show no resentment but bear it with resignation and tranquillity. Do not condemn the" actions of others, interpret everything charitably, and, if the fault be manifest, strive" to attenuate it as much as possible. .And forget about it, unless your office obliges you to apply a remedy. In open questions do not contradict anyone in conversation; do not get overexcited in arffuing: if your opin, ion be considered of little worth give way quietly and remain silent. When you must defend the truth, do so courageously, but without being violent or. contemptuous. Lay up a good store of gentleness so that in all circumstances you may ~etain your equanimity. Do not nourish in your heart feelings of dislike and revenge against those who offend you. If anyone blames you or speaks ill of you, do not fly into a pas-sion bu't examine your shortcomings and humbly thank God for preserving you from such things. Whenever you are in.clined to be impatient or downcast, fight against such a temptation courageously, being mindful of your sins and of the fact that you deserve greater chastisements from God. If you .commit a fault and are despised for it, be sorry for the fault before God and accept the dishonor incurred 'as an expiation for it. Yes, I think you should concentrate on the practice of humility. Humility is a fundamental virtue, a sure pledge of sanctity, a token of predestination. A most important lesson taught us by the Divine Savior is this: "Learn of Me, because I am meek and humble of heart." In order to practice humility, be convinced that of' yourself you have nothing but sin, weakness, and misery; that all the gifts of nature and of grace which you enjoy you have received from God, who is the principle of your being; and that to Him alone is due all honor and glory---ornnis honor et gloria. But, you may exclaim, the program you outline is simply heroic. I'm glad you feel that way about it. A proper spirit of humility makes you realize that it will be difficult to live according to the out-line given and that you will be subject to many failures. But that should not prevent you from trying or cause you to give up once you have tried. Recently a religious wrote to me with reference to an article'that I had published on rel!gious observance: "I feel that I have you for a 235 WINFRID HERBST friend because of the barbs contained in your article on religious observance. Try as I might to rid myself of those timely printed remarks, I kept coming back and rereading the same. Ashamed is the right word, indeed. Yellow or coward would be the right word too. Why? I kept asking myself. After having to admit the truth the answer seemed to be: not wanting to be considered a goody-goody and not being concerned about being a perfect religious." To which I replied: "It is a good sign, this dissatisfaction with self. I am not worried about you, so long as you accept your short-comings without discouragement and try to profit by them. It is a sign of growth in humility." For Your Information Suggesfion for Superiors General The first annual report covering the year 1950 must be made by all religious superiors general (even by superiors of independent monasteries and houses) on the forms issued by the Sacred Congre-gation of Religious, not later than the end of March, 1951. During that same year all superiors general of lay institutes (Brothers and Sisters) in both Americas must send in the quinquennial report for the years 1946-1950. A new questionnaire has been published for this report. The English text of the questionnaire (342 questions) costs $1. The ten forms for the annual report including an explana-tory letter by,'the Cardinal Prefect of the Sacred Congregation of Re-ligious cost fifty cents. These forms and the English questionnaire should be ordered now. Send a bank check or an international postal money order (obtainable at any post office), for $1.50 made out in favor of Sacred Congregation of Religious to: Rev. Giulio Mandelli, Archivist, S. Congregation of Religious, Palazzo San Callisto, Rome, Italy. Be sure to register your letter at your postoffice to avoid losing it in the mails. We hope to publish some practical suggestions regarding the filling out of the annual report in the November issue; on the quin-quennial report in the January issue. gocaflonal Ouesflons An interesting and practical pamphlet is One Hundred Vocational (Continued on page 251) 236 On F: mily Spirit: Gerald Kelly, S.3. ~T IS TRADITIONAL usage in the Church to refer to a religious institute or community as "a religious family." This expression is rich in meaning; and all of us can profit by occasionally reflecting on it. The present article is designe~l to provide a stimulus for such reflections; it is by no means calculated to do full justice to the possibilities. . Leaving the Old In itself, the expression, "a religious family," has a positive meaning. It signifies that the religious community is a family in its own right with the duties and privileges that belong to real family life. But this positive element presupposes something negative: a break with one's natural family. Without separation from the old there can never be complete incorporation into the new. Logically, therefore, our reflections ought first to be directed towards this negative element, separation. It is well to note at the outset that separation from parents and relatives is not easy. It is very difficult indeed. Nevertheless, it is a mistake for religious to think that only they are called upon to make this sacrifice. As a matter of fact, even children who marry must effect the same separation if their married life is to be a success. All the best psychological studies of failures in marriage stress the fact that one of the principal causes is the fact that one or both parties remain "tied to their mother's apron strings." The truth of this research merely illustrates the inspired words of Genesis (2:24): "Wherefore, a man shall leave father and mother and shall cleave to his wife." Married people must realize that they are starting a new family, and that they must break definitely with the old. The same is true of religious. In this matter of separation we have both the example and the words of Our Lord to show us the way. When He was twelve He permitted the hearts of those He loved most dearly to be filled with anguish because He must be about His Father's business. Years later He parted definitely with the finest of mothers and the best of com-panions in order to give Himself to three tireless years of His Father's business and to climax it all with His crucifixion. And He confirmed 237 GERALD KELLY this example by strong words about the need of separation. In Matthew (10:37) we read: "He the( loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me." And in Luke (14:26) are the even stronger words: "If any man come to me and hate not his father and mother and wife and children and brethren and sisters, yea and his own life also, he cannot be my disciple." It is obvious that, despite the force of His words, Our Lord is not telling us that we must tear the love of parents and relatives out of our hearts. His own love for His Mother was deep, intense, and tender; and it remained so all His life. Yet it would have been an imperfect thing, and unworthy of Him, had it urged Him to stay with her one moment longer than the divine plan permitted, or had it been allowed in any way to interfere with His apostolate. This is the model of our own affection for parents and relatives. We are supposed to love them. We are bound to them by ties of blood and gratitude. But the love must be well ordered. It must not interfere, even slightly, with the purpose of our religious life, for to achieve that purpose is our Father's business. From the beginning of our r~ligious life we have to set ourselves resolutely to accomplish the physicai and mental separation from parents and relatives that allows us to give ourselves quietly and wholeheartedly to our religious duties. And one of the first and most important lessons we must learn is to entrust our dear ones to Divine Providence. It often happens that a religious has hardly entered the novitiate when he begins to receive distressing news from home. Father has lost his job; mother needs a serious operation; a baby niece has diphtheria; a nephew was in a terrible accident; the black sheep of the family has got .into some new trouble. News of this kind will be more or less frequent all through our religious lives. Unless we adjust ourselves properly to it, it can be the source of constant anxiety that spoils our mental prayer, diminishes the efficiency of our work, and even tempts us to abandon our religious vocation. Of course, it isn't easy to rid oneself of such anxiety. We cannot just.say, "I won't be anxious," and thus put all the worrisome thoughts to rout. But in a positive way we can cultivate the attitude that in leaving parents and relatives, we are putting them into the hands of God, and that if we give our thc~ughts to God and our own vocation, God'will take care of our dear ones. After all, we are not the only ones who need a great trust in Divine Providence. Letter-writing is another test of w.ell-ordered love of parents and 238 8eptembec, 1950 ON I~AMIL~ SPIRIT relatives. It is one thing for a young religious to write home every day; another to write so seldom that parents can justly complain of neglect. It is one thing to write pages and pages of small talk: another to write, "Dear Morn: I'm fine; hope you're the same. Love." These examples are extremes; but not entirely fictional. It is well for religious to cultivate the habit of writing home at regular intervals and to keep that habit as long as ~heir parents are living. The letters need not be long, but they should not be too short, either. A letter is neither a book nor a telegram. We should try to make our letters interesting, without at the same time revealing details that should be kept within the privacy of our community or of telling things that might cause needless worry. There are some mothers who, if they heard their beloved daughter had a sore knee, would immediately think in terms of an amputation. We learn through experience that innocent remarks in letters can easily assume explosive proportions. When I was a young religious I went to the hospital" for a check-up that was little more than routine. I mentioned this fact casually in a letter to a devoted aunt. Three weeks later my superior called me to his room. In his hand was a telegram from the same devoted aunt. She had just heard that her nephew had only a short time to live and she wondered whether she should come at once. That was the first news I had of my desperate condition. Upon investigation, I found that my aunt had told a friend of my check-up, and this friend had told another friend, and so on; and as the news passed from friend to friend my condi-tion grew steadily worse. Finally the original news, transformed by the ghastly details of my incurability, got back to my aunt. Then there are visits. Some time ago I presided at a discussion group made up of mistresses of novices and postulants of various institutes. One of the points discussed concerned the visits to pos-tulants and novices b.y parents and relatives. The customs varied greatly. One of the institutes simply has the absolute custom: no visits till first vows--and this institute has.a two-year novitiate. I am not exaggerating when I say that all the other novice-and postulant-mistresses gasped with envy when they heard this. All agreed that, hard though it seemed, this would be the ideal arrange-ment. All complained that when visits are allowed the day after the visit is like beginning the postulancy or novitiate over again. Some may disagree with me, but I think the religious who is stationed far from home is blest. This is true of monastic institutes because it prevents too much visiting from relatives. And it is even 239 GERALD KELLY Review for Religious more true of other institutes, for it not only prgvents the visiting on the part of relatives, but it helps to preserve in the religious himself the perfect interior liberty which keeps him at the free disposition of superiors. They can send him where he is most needed or most useful without fear of opposition. Occasionally there are good reasons for being stationed near one's home; but such reasons are rather rare and are usually of short dura-tion. Yet it is not unknown that some religious are ingenious at conjuring up reasons why they should be stationed in the shadow of their own home. And sometimes the relatives themselves exert pres-sure to this effect. These relatives have no ill will. They simply do not understand the nature of the religious life; and they need to be set right on this point. The religious who wants to be'a perfectly pliable instrument in the hands of God should not leave the burden of explanation to superiors. He ought himself to assume the respon-sibility of pointing out to his relatives that, in entering religion, he placed himself at the disposal of superiors, and that he wants to work where they think he should work. Living the New The preceding points could be amplified and similar ones added. But, since I have undertaken this article with the purpose of stressing the positive aspect of our family life, I wish to devote most of my space to the elements that contribute to genuine family living in religion. ' The first of these positive elements is paternal government. Some-one has said that government is paternal when it manifests the "gentleness, kindliness, and love of Christ." No doubt that expresses the idea most beautifully; yet, unless we translate "paternal" into terms of ordinary family life, we shall remain in the sphere of mere theory. A good father is supposed to be solicitous for each member of his family, while at the same time seeking the common good of the entire family. This is not easily accomplished even in a family of five or six children; it is certainly much more difficult in a religious community of ten, twenty, thirty, and even more subjects. Never-theless the ideal is there; and it cannot be lowered without prejudice to true family life. This ideal clearly rules out favoritism, as that word is ordinarily understood. But it hardly means that a superior cannot have any especially intimate friends within his community. It is commonly 240 September, 1950 ON FAMILY SPIRIT said that Our Lord had a special regard for St. John; yet no one would dare accuse Him of favoritism. In the best families, parents often have a special love for one child without in any sense neglecting the others. They do not love the others less because they love him more. _And we ourselves, as subjects, often have warm, intimate friendships with a few members of our community without in any way diminishing the charityw'e owe the others. This is human. Supe-riors do not (or should not) cease to be human when they take office. Nevertheless, special friendships present a danger; and superiors, even more than others, must guard, against the danger. Any superior who gives his friends privileges he would not give others, who violates confidences to satisfy their curiosity, who neglects the others Of his community to be with them, who allows them to have undue influence in the managing of the community is certain.ly not governing paternally. Solicitude for the individual must always be subordinated to the interests of the group. All of us, even without having been supe-riors, must have experienced at times the difficulty of living up to this standard. A teacher may have a boy in his class, a thoroughly like-able lad, who is constantly a drawback to the rest of the class in studies and in discipline. Or a prefect may have discovered that a youngster has been stealing or has other bad habits that are infecting the group; and he may be torn between the two unpleasant alterna-tives of having this boy dismissed with the probability that he will not go to another Catholic school or of keeping him in the school with risk of great harm to the others. In problems such as these the ultimate solution must be in terms of the greater good-~and that is usually the common good. We should do all we can to save the individual boy, but not at the expense of the group. And the supe-rior has to solve the similar problems that arise in community life in the same way. He will show great sympathy and tolerance for the wayward or cantankerous subject. But this tolerance has its just limit. The community has a right to its good name and to peaceful living; and its right should not be jeopardized for the individual. A good father likes to be with his family. Every institute, I suppose, prescribes that the superior be present at community meals and community recreations and that he stay home most of the time. This is not merely for the sake of discipline: it is a requisite for good family life. I might suggest, though, that the expression "most of the time" be emphasized. A wise old Father once remarked that a good superior will make it a point to get away from his community 241 GERALD KELLY Ret~iew for Reliqious occasionally. It is good for both the superior and the community. It is clearly a case in which "absence makes the heart grow fonder." And this is also true of ordinary family life. When parents get away occasionally both they and the children benefit by it. When we look back on our childhood, one of the things that very likely strikes us forcibly is the memory of how our parents adjusted themselves to us. When with us they lived in our world, the child's world; and they did not try to force us into theirs. I think that this fact helps to illustrate the full meaning of paternal government in religion. The good superior seeks the interests of his community; he lives in their world, not his own. For instance, he does not monopolize recreation with his own topics of conversation. Or, to put the same example in another way: he does not recreate the brethren; he recreates with the brethren. Paternal government neces- ¯ sarily implies that the superior look upon the members of his com-munity as his children. This is obvious; the correlative of "parent" is "child." But "child" in this context means "son or daughter"; it does not mean an infant or even an adolescent. The paternal supe-rior, therefore, treats his subjects as adults. He has respect for their age, their dignity, and their talents. Many other things could be said about the paternal superior. He can be stern; he is never harsh. He fosters religious idealism by his good example. He is a good provider in accordance with the means at his disposal and the purpose of his institute. He makes sure that his subjects have plenty of time to see him. He tries to employ them according to their strength and their talents. He encourages them to develop their talents for the good of the institute and ultimately for the greater glory of God. And so forth. I cannot develop these points without converting this into an article entitled, "How to be a good superior"-~by one who has ne~er been a superior. The next topic concerns us, the subjects. On the basis of experi-ence, I.should know much more about this. However, it is~rather human to know 'more about the other fellow's job. A friend of mine who was appointed a superior several years ago made a very appro-priate speech on the night of his installation. "A week ago," he said, "I knew everything a superior ought to do. Tonight I'm not so sure." In terms of the religious family, the correlative of paternal gov-ernment is filial confidence. This expression is not easily explained. It seems to signify something that we recognize almost instinctively --like the taste of chocolate--yet are only faintly able to describe. 242 September, 1950 ON FAMILY SPIRIT fundamental element seems to be confidence in the superior's judg-ment. And by this I am riot.referring to the fact that he is in the place of Christ. That tells me merely that I am right in obeying him: it does not tell me he is right in commanding. Religious life would be nothing short of a continuous miracle if all of us lived it day after day and year after year With the conviction that the supe-rior is wrong, but we are right. For ordinary peaceful living we need the confidence that at least generally speaking the superiors are right, that they govern well, that their natural judgment is good. We needn't endow superiors with either infallibility or impeccability in order to gain this confidence. If we may judge from the content of several anonymous letters sent to this review, some religious think that the first requisite for becoming and remaining a superior is stupidity. The attitude of such religious is not readily diagnosed. Perhaps the cause is indigestion, or sleeplessness, or some mental maladjustment. At any rate, it is certainly pathological. And we can all thank God for that: for, if that attitude represented the normal outlook of religious subjects, we should be in a sorry state. I am not saying there are no bad superiors--no unrealists, no martinets, no tyrants amongst them. But I do say most emphatically that there are enough good ones for us to preserve our confidence in the institution, even on a natural basis. And I believe that in saying this I am expressing the view of the general run of religious subjects. As a group we have a basic confidence that our superiors govern well. This does not mean that we do not occasionally, or even frequently, think we could plan things better. Nor does it mean that we never criticize. Most of us, no doubt, indulge in enough criticism of supe-riors to provide matter for a periodic particular examen, for confes-sion, and for good resolutions. We can and we should improve. Nevertheless, some criticism, provided it is not too frequent and especially that it is not bitter, is no major impediment to family life. In considering the paternal-filial relationship, reference, to the manifestation of conscience is inevitable. As has been remarked more than once in these pages, the fact that the Church has forbidden supe-riors to demand a manifestation'of conscience has been stressed to such an extent as to lead many religious to think that their conscience is simply none of the superior's business. The very nature of reli-gious .government shows this to be absurd. Superiors are supposed to assign subjects to places and offices in such a way that the individ-uals can save and sanctify their souls and that the general good of the 243 GERALD KELLY Reoieto t~or Religious institute is promoted. An assignment which defeats either of these ends defeats the purpose of the religious life itself. Yet, how is a superior to make a wise and provident disposition of subjects according to the two-fold purpose of the religious life unless he has an intimate knowledge of his subjects? And how is he to get this knowledge adequately without the help of perfect candor on the part of the subjects? It is very saddening to hear a religious whose assignment is actually proving his spiritual ruin, say: "I just couldn't tell my superior about this difficulty." The fault may be his; and it may be his superior's: in either case, the condition is lamentable and should never have been allowed to develop. Perhaps both superiors and subjects could profit by reflecting on the fol-lowing words of a saintly and experienced spiritual director: "Nothing helps so effectually to engender a paternal attitude toward a subject as the account of conscience; for, when I open my heart to my superior I constrain him to take a fatherly attitude toward me and a fatherly interest in my welfare. Thereafter he cannot remain just my superior if he be a man of normal humanity. Then, this bestowal of my inmost confidence upon my superior will be powerful to effect in my soul the reciprocal relation of filial trust and love. Conversely, when I withhold my confidence from the superior and refuse to open my heart to him, I make his position diffi-cult as far as fatherly feeling is concerned. Sometimes our superiors may seem to us to lack paternal interest. The fault may be theirs; but likewise it may be ours, due to the fact that we have never given them our confidence." Paternal government and filial confidence are the constituent ele-ments of family life in the superior-subject relationship. The third element is the bond of union among the members. ,~,11 that we gen-erally say concerning fraternal charity pertains to the explanation of this element. I shall content myself here with pointing out a few things that seem to have special relevance to our "family" charity. In our mutual relationships there ought to be no quarreling, no offensive teasing, no harsh words. This certainly is the ideal of our charity. Yet, ~i wholesome family spirit can exist among us without perfection in this ideal. Consider again the analogy with the good natural family. The brothers and sisters squabble a bit; the parents lose their tempers occasionally. But they "make up fast"--as the saying goes; a short time after the explosive incidents everyone is acting as if nothing disagreeable had happened. To strive for this is perhaps to have a more realistic goal in our community relationships. 244 ON FAMILY SPIRIT Despite the noblest of resolutions, we get out of sorts, and we fly off the handle. Given a group of normal human beings, these things can hardly be avoided entirely in the close associations that make up community living. But we can certainly avoid prolonged teasing that hurts, continued bickering, harboring grudges, and so forth. These are things that deeply wound family spirit. Our goal, therefore, is to love the members of our community in much the same way as the members of a good Catholic family love one another. It is hardly possible to accomplish this perfectly. There is truth in the old maxim that "blood will tell." On the purely natural plane it is often easy to preserve an intense affection for our blood brothers and sisters even when they possess characteristics that o'thers consider unpleasant. In our dealing with others, even with fellow religious, there is much greaterneed of explicitl~r stimulating motives for love. Certainly there are many powerful motives for mutual love among religious. One of these was expressed graphically by a mili-tary chaplain when he returned to his community after the last war: "You don't know how good it is to sit at table again with a group of men who are all in the state of grace!". These are startling words --perhaps even a bit exaggerated. Yet, isn't it true that they express a profound reason why there should be great peace in the companion-ship of religious? Day after day all of us say Mass or receive Holy Communion--a reasonably sure practical sign that we are living habitually in the friendship of God. There are many saintly people outside of religion, and many others who, if not canonizable, do live constantly in the state of grace. But there are many others who are unjust, obscene, blasphemous; and even good people in the World can scarcely avoid their companionship. In religion our lives and our recreations are spent with companions who, despite many small and irritating faults, are substantially good. Their supernatural goodness is not the only reason why the companionship of religious should be enjoyable. Even on the natural level religious are apt to have more likeable qualities than any average group of the laity. At any rate, that ought to be the case; we are screened for especially undesirable qualities when we apply for admission as well as on the occasions of our .vows. It is true that most of us look back and wonder how we passed the screening; and those of us who entered before the days of intelligence and per-sonality tests may frankly admit in the secrecy of our hearts that, if these tests had existed in our day, we should not have made the 245 GERALD KELLY Reuieu~ for Reliqiou~ grade. No doubt, despite all the screening, some serious mistakes are made. Some pass through t~he screening processes who later become real menaces to community life. But the general percentage of com-panionable characters should be and is much higher than would be found elsewhere. I mentioned before that it is not uncommon for children of the same family to fight among themselves. I have seen two small' boys, brothers, literally mauling each other over the possession of a small wagon. Then another boy appeared and attempted to align himself with one party. But the brothers would have none of that! In a flash their own quarrel was ended and they were united against the intruder. This is typical of good family life. No matter how much the members fight among themselves, they present a united front to outsiders. We religious should have that spirit of family loyalty. In some sense, at least, each of us must have looked on his own ¯ institute as the "best of all" when he entered religion; otherwise we would have joined another. Certainly it is the "best" for us now; and it is not only legitimate but laudable for us to foster a spirit of preferential love. I think it was St. Francis de Sales who sa'id: "For us there is no congregation more worthy of love and more desirable than ours, since Our Lord has willed that it should be our country and our bark of salvation." I have heard that Sisters attending summer school show great interest in the habits of other institutes and that sometimes they exchange habits. But they return to their own with the serene con-viction that, though the others have some good points, theirs is the best. This is not narrow-mindedness. A young man may have the most profound respect for other women yet very reasonably look upon his own mother as the best in the world. So, too, religious may have great esteem for the members, the habits, the customs, and the work of other institutes, yet they prefer and treasure their own above all the others. The well-ordered love of one's institute will not, however, blind us to its deficiencies, or prevent us from trying by legitimate methods to improve its customs. No institute is so perfect as to exclude the need of occasional changes, especially in non-essentials. It is not true loyalty, but sheer obstinacy, that urges us to hold fast to old things just because they are old; that resists any reasonable modi-fication in the habit or any change of customs. Even the general laws of the Church are not so perfect as to exclude change. Family loyalty will not blind us to the defects of our brethren; 246 September, 1950 ON F!kMILY SPIRIT but it will certainly prevent us from criticizing either our brethren or our institute to outsiders. These things are family secrets; outsiders have no right to know them. I am referring here to criticism of one's superiors or fell0w-religious before the boys or girls in school, before the nurses in training, before the p~rish priest, or before the men and women in the parish, and so forth. To reveal to such per-sons the real faults of the community is detraction; and to misrepre-sent the community is calumny. And the harm done by such gossip easily assumes serious proportions. In censuring disloyal speech, I am not thinking of revelations made to canonical visitors or of the unburdening of one's conscience in confession. The canonical visitor is deputed by the Church to ask questions, and in his exercise of this function he is not to be con-sidered an "outsider." The confessor is bound by the most absolute of secrets; and the community is sufficiently protected against harm, even when the religious, in explaining his faults or trials, must inci-dentally refer to the misconduct of others. Further Practical Suggestions I have tried to keep my explanation of the constituents of reli-gious family life from being too theoretical, and I hope I have suc-ceeded to some extent. I should like now to increase the practicality of this article by suggesting a few concrete ways of contributing to the family spirit of our institutes and communities. The purpose of a religious institute is to carry on the work assigned to it by the Church and thus honor God and further His kingdom in the souls of men. In the ordinary providence of God, the supernatural efficiency of the institute depends on its holiness, and this holiness is not some abstract thing; it is, concretely" speaking, the sum total of the holiness of the members. It is very true, there-fore, that each member can say: "The holier I am, the holier is my institute." This truth should be a source of great inspiration and encourage-ment to all religious who are devoted to their religious family. For, in the matter of holiness there is no distinction of grade or work. The general, the provincial, the local superior, the teacher, the nurse, the dean, the housekeeper, the cook, the sick, the retired, the contem-pla. tive, and so forth--all have an equal opportunity of promoting the family cause through an increase of holiness. The saintly cook, therefore, makes a much finer contribution to the most exalted pur-pose of his institute than does the tepid preacher or the worldly 247 GERALD KELLY Review ?or Reliqious teacher. Holiness, of course, includes the whole of one's life--prayer, work, suffering, and so forth--but it refers particularly to the interior life of prayer and penance. In these interior things every religious has great power to help his institute. For one thing, it is the interior spirit that gives the real supernatural value to our own work. Moreover, the interior life of one can have a tremendous influence on the apostolic, work of the others; and it is well for the contemplatives, for those who do the hidden, humble works, and for those who are ill or retired, to note this. This last point is of supreme importance, and I should like to illustrate it by a simple example. A priest seldom goes on'a mission, rarely enters the confessional, without the realization that he may have to de~l with some souls who are "stubborn" or "weak," souls that desperately need superabundant grace for their conversion and salvation. Some of these people seem to have the kind of devil that Our Lord said is driven out only by prayer and fasting. Yet they themselves are too weak or too hard to do the required prayer and fasting. If they are to be saved, someone must do it for them-- at least enough so that they will finally respond to the grace that enables them to carry on for themselves. ~Fhe priest, despite the best of intentions, cannot do it all. On occasions like this, I have always rejoiced in the realization that I have a n~amber of friends who gladly offer some of their pray-ers and sufferings for my apostolate. Shortly after my ordination I was privileged to meet a saintly nun, Sister Agnesetta, of the Sisters of Loretto. We became fast friends, and she was a great help to me until the day of her death. As a young Sister she had been reduced to the state of a helpless cripple. During her last years she could barely lift her tiny knotted hand to blow a whistle when she needed help. Exteriorly she was so cheerful that a casual visitor would think she enjoyed being bedridden. Yet interiorly, for upwards of twenty years she felt not only the physical pain of her illness but the much greater crucifixion of frustration, of "being on the shelf." I cannot express how much it meant to me to begin some apostolic work with the knowlkdge that some of her prayers and sufferings were being offered for me. I have mentioned Sister Agnesetta by name because she has gone to her reward and cannot be embarrassed by my words. I could mention many others and of different institutes, if they were not still living. And I imagine that every priest could do the same. 248 September, 1950 ON FAMILY SPIRIT What has all this to do with family spirit? The answer, at least as regards active institutes, seems obvious. For in the various active institutes, there are teachers who are trying to win wayward pupils, nurses who are trying to bring about deathbed conversions, preachers who must stir the hearts of the impenitent, confessors who must draw penitents away from habits of sin. These and others exercising the apostolate need supernatural help. And what is more natural than that they look for this help from the members of their own institute? I do not mean that our vision should not take in the whole Church, with its entire apostolate; I simply mean that our own institute should normally have the first place in our apostolic intentions. My remaining suggestions will be very brief. First, there is our work. The work of a religious institute is teamwork; it is not the accomplishment of any individual. Each of us contributes to the cause; and it is only by the complete co-operative effort that the desired result is accomplished. In terms of family spirit, this is another consoling truth. It makes each of us realize that his job is important. Then there is charity. The finest act of charity a religious can show his brethren is good example. All of us know the force of example: how easy it is, for instance, to keep the rule of silence when everyone else observes it; and how difficult it is when even a few neglect it. And, speaking of example, I must at least mention our dealings with externs. They are prone to judge a whole institute by one member: hence each member has a tremendous responsibility to his religious family when he deals with them. The religious with true devotion to his institute will always try to act in the presence of externs in such a way as to cause them to esteem his community and his institute. Also, as regards charity, there is the matter of mutual correction. The very fact that we are a family gives each of us an added respon-sibility for the welfare of the others and, of course, for the reputation of the institute. In a family, when one of the children is making a fool out of himself, the other children tell him or their parents about it; and, observing the sound principles of fraternal correction, we religious have to do the same thing. Sometimes religious note that one of their brethren is on the verge of giving great scandal, yet they say nothing either to the individual or to superiors. This is shirking responsibility, a gross form of family disloyalty. Poverty offers a fertile field for the family spirit. The religious 249 GERALD KELLY Review [or Religious who fully realizes that community life is a sharing enterprise--that "he lives off the community, and the community lives off him," as the saying goes--will not refuse gifts just because he "would have'to turn them in," will not spend his time calculating how he might add some gift to his superfluities without sinning seriously against pov-erty. How would we live if no one were willing to. "turn things in"? And in a natural family, would it not be a strange father or mother or sister or brother who would refuse a generous gift because, "Really, I don't need it for myself; all I could do with it is give it to the family" ? Religious with a family spirit do not waste things. They do not leave it to someone else to turn off a radiator when heat isn't needed, to close a window when it is letting in too much cold air or when a storm is brewing and floors or furniture would be ruined. They do not get books, clothing, and other things that they do not need. In other words, like the members of any poor family, they economize. Perhaps I should add, by way of parenthesis, that when I speak of the need of dconomy, I am thinking mostly in terms of men. I have often wondered how we men could get along on Sisters' salaries, or how we could crowd our books, wardrobes, and various junk boxes into the cells or (more often) dormitories that make up the living quarters of our convents, or how we should look were our clothes subjected to the frequent mendings that give Sisters' habits such a long life on this earth. In my religious life I have heard much about obedience, but after the first few years I seldom heard anything new. A few years ago, however, I did hear a retreat master say something new--at any rate, it was new to me. He said, "The obedient man is the available man." This brief statement expresses in a practical, concrete way the whole secret of religious obedience. Our strength lies in the fact that a supe-rior can dispose of us according to the common need; that he can command us, or ask us, or merely suggest to us, and he always finds us ready. We don't shirk a job; we don't dodge responsibility. Few things can be harder for a superior than to have to approach a sub-ject whex~ he knows his request will be greeted by eithe} a growl or an alibi; and I imagine that few things are sweeter for the superior than the realization that his community is composed of available sub-jects, religious who graciously accept any assignment at any time. One concluding remark. To foster our humility, we are often told that if we were gone our place would soon be filled and the 250 community would not even miss us. Perhaps that aspect of our life is sometimes overdone. Perhaps it is good for us to think occasion-ally of how important we are, of how much we, as individuals, mean to the community. The thought can be very inspiring. I trust that some of the suggestions made here will help to provide this inspi-ration. FOR YOUR INFORMATION (Continued from page 236) Questions Asked bg Sisters. It contains questions and answers first printed in a quarterly entitled Vocational Notes for'Sisters. This reprint contains the first htindred questions which appeared in the Notes during 1949 and 1950. The prudent, informative answers are by the Very Reverend Father Clarence, O.F.M.Cap., and the Rever-end Father Jude, O.F,M.Cap. It can be obtained for 15 cents a copy from: St. Anthony's Vocation Club, 220 Thirty-Seventh St., Pittsburgh 1, Pa. Medlco-Moral Problems Modern medicine faces us with numerous ethical problems. Many of these problems are thoroughly discussed in two booklets, Medico- Moral Problems, I and II, by Gerald Kelly, S.J. The booklets are published by The Catholic Hospital Association, 1438 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 4, Mo. Prices on each booklet are: 50 cents a copy; 12 for $5.25; 50 for $20.00. The Catholic Hospital Association also publishes in pamphlet form Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Hospitals. This is the revised medico-moral code which is now used in a large num-ber of dioceses throughout the United States and Canada. Price: 25 cents a copy: 12 for $2.75; 50 for $10.00. Catholic Daily A group of Catholic journalists are planning to publish a daily newspaper dedicated to reporting the news of the da~r in the context ,6f Christianity. The projected publication date is October 10, 1950. For the staff of this paper, The Sun Herald, the work is a vocation, an apostolate. The founders of the new paper have incorporated as The Apos- (Continued on page 264) 251 Christ: Shows Us I-low !:o Win Friends Jerome Breunig, S.J. SINC, E it was first published about fifteen years ago, Dale Carne-gie s book, How to. Win Friends and Influence People, found millions of buyers and readers and has become one of the most popular works of non-fiction in our time. It is obvious to .religious who have read the book that Dale Carnegie has many good ideas which would help them practice the virtue Christ recommended above all. Equally obvious is the shallow humanitarian viev~point and the mercenary self-interest that is illustrated in most of the ex-ample}. Since many of the people with whom we come into contact - are influenced more by the humanitarian mentality of this book than by the mind that is in Christ Jesus, it'might be useful to observe how much better Christ can teach us how to win friends-~even according to Carnegie's rules. Carnegie gives six rules for making people like you: (1) become genuinely interested in other i~eople; (2) smile; (3) remember that a man's name is to him the sweetest and most important sound in the English language; (4) be a good listener; (5) talk in terms of the other man's interest; (6) make the other person feel important, and do it sincerely. ' But the very idea of making people like you may seem foreign to religious and a sordid thought. The religious works only for God, seeks to be unknown, sees in superiors and others "no one but only Jesus." True enough, but the loftiest supernatural motives should not be high-lighted in such a way that they crowd natural means out of the picture. Christ, the Religious of religious, worked onl~r for God's glory. "The things that please Him, I do." To do this more effectively He tried to make people not only like but love Him. How else explain the Cross! And when man's love grew cold, Christ did not hesitate to dramatize His desire to win men's love by wearing H~s Heart on His breast, announcing to the world through St. Margaret Mary: "Behold this Heart, which has "loved men so much and receives nothing in return but ingratitude and indifference." Christ was "genuinely interested in other people." He was 252 CHRIST SHOWS US HOW TO WIN FRIENDS moved with compassion for the multitudes because they were as sheep without a shepherd. He wept over ,Jerusalem. "How often would I ha,~e gathered together thy children, as the ben dotb gather her chickens under .her wings, and thou wouldst not." Christ's interest extended to individuals as well. He pitied the plight of the leper and healed him: "I will, be thou made clean." What interest He showed in Peter! On at least two occasions He insured a pros-perous catch of fish for him. At another time He cured his mother-in- law. Interest is also shown by prayers. "I have prayed for you that your faith fail you not." Genuine interest in others is a big step towards developing that mind that is in Christ ~lesus. It dispels uncharitable thoughts. "The only person who does not improve on acquaintance is self," observes Father Faber. The same writer notes that kindness is not too diffi-cult, for though there are many unkind minds there are hardly any unkind hearts and that a kind mind can be developed by thinking about, being interested in, others. A kind mind implies much thifiking about others without the thoughts being criticisms. A retreat master developed the same thought by the following illustra-tion. A caricaturist seizes on a character weakness and emphasizes it out of all prop.ortion, while the artist is careful to shade the weak-nesses and make the finer qualities stand out. And the artist always comes closer to a true likeness. Dale Carnegie makes much ot: the. smile, featuring Charles Schwab whose smile was literally a million-dollar one. The Evan-gelists do not record the obvious. There is no written record of Christ's sm.ile, yet there is no room for doubting.that Our Lord smiled when He looked up and saw Zacheus, who had to climb a tree to catch a glimpse, when the quick-witted Phoenician woman an-swered, "Even the whelps are permitted to gather the crumbs," and when He surprised the apostles with the miraculous draughts of fish. More important than the smile is what is behind it, the cheerful, light-hea.rted disposition. Christ was a man of sorrows, but He did not let that cast a gloom around Him. He brought cheer to .the wedding feast at.Cana, did not want the Apostles to fast "when the bridegroom was with them," and celebrated Matthew's joining up by eating and drinking with sinners. Christ's doctrine fosters afun-damentally 'cheerful .disposition. "Come to Me all you that labor and are burdened and I will refresh you." "My yoke is sweet, my burden light." "When you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites." 253 ~EROME BREUNIG Ret~iew ~or Religious . Professional personality-developers insist on the practice of saying "Good Morning" to develop the smile. "Good Morning" leaves a smile on the face. Religious should not need to paint a smile by any artificial means. Religious should be the happiest peo-ple on earth, and they are. Smiles come readily. Humility, chastity, and charity thrive in an atmosphere of cheerfulness. The best "propaganda" for vocations is a cheerful religious. An old Father observed that the number of vocations from a particular school was. in exact proportion to the number of cheerful scholastics on the faculty. "Remember that a man's name is to him the sweetest and most important sound in the language." Jim Farley could call fifty thou-sand men by their first name. Christ could call fifty billion by their names. "I am the good shepherd," Christ said, "and I know mine and mine know me." The comparison to a shepherd has a special reference to knowing by name. Shepherds in Palestine then and now have a special name for each of their sheep. The sheep recognizes and answers when its name is called. True Christian charity rather than the wisdom of this genera-tion should prompt a religious to pay the personal respect implied in remembering and using another's name. It is disconcerting to find one who should know our name remembering only our face. The inability to remember another by name leaves the impression that he does not impinge our consciousness to any extent. Our Lord paid this mark of respect to His fellow men. Mary Magdalen did not recognize Christ on Easter morning until He said, "Mary." There are other instances. "Lazarus, come forth." "Martha, Martha." "Simon, son of John, lovest thou Me?" On His very first public appearance we find Christ fulfilling the next rule for winning friends: "Be a good listener. 'Encourage others to talk about themselves." On this occasion we observe Christ as a youth in the temple "listening to them and asking questions." Whenever his enemies were baffled by His wise answers, we always have the assurance that C~ist heard them out first. "Is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar? . Of which of. the seven will she be wife at the resurrection?" His enemies thought they had a sure enveloping. pincer movement only to find themselves suddenly disarmed, by the. wisdom of the answer. But in every instance Christ did not inter-rupt them until they had finished. A beautiful instance of encouraging others .to talk about them-selves is seen on the road to Emmaus. While the two disciples were September, 1950 CHRIST SHOWS US HOW TO WIN FRIENDS con;cersing and arguing together, Jesus drew near and went along with them. He began the conversation, "What are these discourses that you hold with one another as you walk, and are sad?" "Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem and hast not known the things that have been done there in these days?" "What things?" Our Lord encourages them. With kindly for-bearance He listens to the entire story. It is only after they have talked themselves out that He begins with Moses and the prophets and interprets to them the Scriptures. Perhaps Father Faber had Christ the Listener in mind when he wrote the paragraph on kind listening. "There is also a grace of kind listening as well as of kind speaking. Some listen with an abstracted air, which shows their thoughts are elsewhere. Or they seem to listen, but by wide answers and irrelevant questions show they have been occupied with their own thoughts, as being more interesting, at least in their own esti-mation, than what you have been saying. Some listen with a kind of importunate ferocity, which makes you feel that you are being put on trial, and that your auditor expects beforehand that you are going to tell him a lie, or to be inaccurate, or to say something of which h~ will disapprove, and that you must mind your expres-sions. Some hear you to the end, and then forthwith begin to talk to you about a similar exl~erience which has bet:allen themselves, making your case only an illustration of their own. Some, meaning to be kind, listen with such a determined, lively, violent attenti6n that you are uncomfortable, and the charm of conversation is at an end. Many persons whose manners will stand the test of speaking break down at once under the trial of listening. But all these things should be brought under the sweet influences of religion. Kind listening is often an air of the most delicate interior mortification and is a great assistance toward kind speaking." Christ, of course, is still listening. He listens to our prayers. He still hears, through His priests, our confessions. Christ "spoke in terms of the other man's interest." Without parables He did not speak to them. And the parables and illustra-tions were taken directly out of the lives ot: the listeners. Fishermen heard truths in terms of nets, farmers, of seed and crops, women, of house cleaning, etc. In the beatitudes Christ took what was closest to most of his hearers, poverty, suffering, lack of property, mourning, persecution, and showed how they could transform these liabilities into assets. 255 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious Finally, tracing out the pattern of Carnegie, we observe that Christ "makes the other person feel important and He does it sin-cerely." "You are the salt of the earth. You are the light of the world." To Nathaniel, "A true Israelite in whom there is no guile." To Peter, "Thou are Peter and upon this rock I will build my church." John and James were called "Sons of Thunder." Christ has a more sublime way of making others appreciate their dignity. "We will come to him and make our abode with him." The dig-nity of a Christian! As St. Paul echoes and reechoes: "You are temples of God and the Spirit of God dwells within you." All of Dale Carnegie's ways to make people like you are merely applications of the golden rule, which is of divine origin. In fact, the golden rule was formulated by Christ Himself in His sermon on the mount. "All things whatsoever you would that men should do to you, do you also to them." Of course, Christ both in His example and His teaching (He began to do and to teach), shows other ways to make people like you. For instance, "Greater love than this no man has than that a man gives his life for another." Not only does Christ show us how to win friends. The supreme friend-winner sfipplies the necessary and only adequate and enduring motivation. He seems to make the final judgment at the end of the world hinge on what we do or don't do for others. "As long as yofi did it to the least of my brethren, you did it to Me." Book Reviews OUR WAY TO THE FATHER: Meditations for each day of the year in four volumes. By Leo M. Krenz, S.,J. Pp. xx -I- 518: 411; 535, 516. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, 1950. $15.00 (set of four volumes). In "An Apologia" introducing this rich four-volume series of meditations and readings the author gives an account of "the pur-pose, plan, and method of this course of meditations for religious." Besides that portion of the text which constitutes the meditation proper and is printed in large type there are added paragraphs which in many various ways supplement what is primarily proposed for reflection and prayer. To each meditation is prefixed'a preamble, 256 September, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS consisting usualIy of some verses from Scripture, to strike as it were the keynote that characterizes the exercise. There are always two preludes, three points, and a colloquy. It is highly distinctive of this meditation-course that very often in smaller print there are additions "intended to afford further helpful explanations; to sup- . ply more pointed applications; to furnish pertinent biblical, his-torical, ascetical, theological, or philosophical information; or even to satisfy longings for better knowledge of some puzzling dogmatic truth or fact . It is hoped that these supplementary notes and additions may do helpful service as welcome material for pertinent spiritual reading, and at times even for deep study and possibly for round-table discussion." This expedient of appending further develop-" ments helps the author to achieve what seems to be one of his leading preoccupations, namely, to provide religious who make use of these four hundred meditations with a carefully planned and elaborate exposition of a fairly complete system of spirituality, comprising both instruction and motivation. Hence this work could be used for devotional reading in a way and to an extent that would not be true of typical meditation books. A special effort is made to keep in mind the needs of both beginners and proficients in the religious life and in mental prayer. The ways in which Christ and the Apostles instructed their first disciples are consciously imitated with the design of proposing the highest ideals, of getting them practically accepted, and at the same time of pointing out the discrepancies that are only too likely to exist between the profession and the performance of religious men or women. The epistles of the New Testament are also used to learn and copy the method and means by which the Apostles sought to transform recent converts from Judaism or paganism into "be-lievers . doers . and lovers." With this touch of antiquity goes a peculiar flavor of modernity, in that the spiritual lessons of these volumes are studiously adapted to the conditions of our times and place. Evidently it is the author's most earnest and zealous hope that those who use these suggestions for prayerful reflection will. become just what, in accordance with the highest religious ideals and their own special vocation and under present-day circumstances, they ought to be. The theme dominating the whole series of medi-tations is that God is an infinitely good and great father and is inviting us to" an ever closer union with Him. --G. AUGUSTINE ELLARD, S.J. 257 BOOK REVIEWS Reoieto for Reti~ious THE HISTORY OF: THE POPES. By Ludwig yon Pastor. Translated by E. F. Peeler. Vol. 3S: Benedict XIV (1740-1758). Pp. xllv -I- 516. B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, Missouri. $S.00. It surely seems like a return to normalcy when Herder resumes the publication of the English translation of Pastor's great'History. This is the very volume that Pastor was working on when death snatched the pen from his hand in 1928. But so much work had been done upon the pontificates up to and including Plus VI (d. 1799), that these materials were later rounded out and .published with the aid of several scholars named in the introduction. There are thus several additional volumes to appear in English; we trust their appearance will not be further unduly delayed. Those who want their Church history to be nothing but "edi-fying" stories had better not take up this volume; those who have enjoyed--and been built up--by the previous ones of the series, will know what to expect here. They will see a Pope, sixty-five at his election, eighty-three at his death, patiently, even light-heartedly governing the Church in a setting of unparalleled diplomatic black-mail. "Our pontificate," he once said, "will be famous for the injuries we suffer" (p. 111). He more than once described himself as "working with a pistol at his head" (p. 273), carrying on in the face of disappointments, insults, frustration. But by every conceivable concession he prevented for those eight-een years all the gigantic conflicts of the day from reaching the explosions that carrie not long afterwards. The chief interest of this volume turns on that slippery story of the ,lansenists, who for a long time had enjoyed immunity and pro-tection, particularly in Fiance, in their defiance of papal authority. Many different factors complicated the "straight" religious issue, but at every turn it was the Church in France that was torn to shreds by parlement and prelates, by Pompadour's open immorality, and Louis XV's blundering ineptitudes. As early as 1750 Parisians were calling themselves "Republicans," and a French bishop recalled in a pastoral letter that an English king had been beheaded in 1649 (p. 225). But as Benedict passed from the scene the 3ansenists were still in the ascendant, and the party's gre~atest hour, the Synod of Pistoia (1786-87), was still in the making. It is almost another preview of history that in the early years of this pontificate a group of people came together in Rome to plot the total destruction of the Society of,lesus (p. 390). One of those 258 September, 1950 BOOK REVIEWS plotters was a young man named Ricci, who later achieved a baleful fame by presiding at the Synod of Pistoia as its bishop. It is one of the ironies of history that he was a nephew of a General of the desuits he had helped to destroy, and who had died in prison in 1775. Even in the Sacred College there were those who said: "Hold Rome in check by Gallicanism, but Gallicanism by means of Rome" (p. 287). In Benedict's lifetime this conspiracy was. contained, but later on the Tanucci-Pombal-Choiseul p~essure, not to mention the monarchs they served, produced the suppression of 1773. Benedict XIV had a scholar's reputation, particularly in histori-cal and canonical fields, when he came to the papacy. His has been an enduring influence, as organizer, legislator, reformer. His regula-tions for beatifications and canonizations still govern those functions. He .was hailed as "the greatest of the canonists" (p. 298), even as Gu~ranger later said of him that no Pope had ever possessed such a knowledge of the Roman liturgy (p. 301). The book's final section, treating of the missions, handles two other famous controversies he settled: the Chinese Rites (duly 11, 1742) and those of Malabar (Sept. 12, 1744). In this connection it is regrettable that the translation mirrors conditions as they were twenty years ago, for, owing to prgfound changes in the religious mentality of the Orient, it is precisely these acts of Benedict XIV that have been changed in our day by Plus XI and Pius XII. But that was in the interval between the writing of the book and this English translation.--GERALD ]~LLARD, S.d. THE HOLY SEI: AT WORK. B~/Edward L. Hes÷on, C.S.C;. Pp. x~v + 188. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, Wisconsin. 1950. $2.50. This book gives us a popular but adequate explanation of how the Holy Father, supreme visible head of the Church, together with his Senate of Cardinals, governs the universal Church through the medium of the Roman Curia. After a brief introduction explaining the nature and meaning of the terms: Pope, Curia, and Cardinals, the author passes on to the most important part of the book--a one-hundred page account of the various Roman Congregations--in which he discusses the Con-gregations, first in general and then in particular, giving the origin, history, competency, and personnel of each. Part three does the same for the Tribunals ot: the Holy See: the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary, the Supreme Tribunal of the Apostolic Signature, and the Sacred Roman Rota. The fourth and last section treats of the Offices of the 259 BOOK REVIEWS Revieu~ for Religious Holy See: the Apostolic Chancery, the Apostolic Datary, the Rev-erend Apostolic Chamber, the Secretariate of State with its associated Secretariates of Briefs to Princes, and of Latin Letters. A chapter on the Code of Canon Law, the official bod~ of ecclesiastical law for the Latin Church, and one on the election of a new Pope bring the work to a close. The Holy See at Work contains a wealth of interesting details, such as the process of a petition through one of the Congregations from beginning to end, the meaning of "the secret of the Holy Office," the appointment of bishops, the relation of the Churches of the Orient to the Latin Church, the various steps by which a diocesan religious congregation obtains the approval of the Holy See and becomes pontifical, the evolution of a mission from an apostolic prefecture to a diocese, steps to beatification and canonization, special procedure of the Sacred Penitentiary, process of a marriage case through the Rota, kinds of papal documents, the election of a new Pope. Priests and religious, as well as the interested laity, are indebted to Father Heston for having made all this information available in handy form and at a reasonable price. Twenty-two illustrations and three charts enhance the usefulness of the volume. --ADAM C. ELLIS, S.J. LITTLE MEDITATIONS ON THE HOLY EUCHARIST. By Rev. Thomas D. Williams. Pp. 319. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, Wis-consin. $3.50. The Holy Eucharist deserves our whole-hearted appreciation and highest esteem. Yet, because it is shrouded in mystery, and our senses fail to penetrate the veil which hides the Real Presence of Jesus on our altars, we often fail to value this priceless Gift of God as we should. How can we become thoroughly acquainted with so inestimable a treasure, how acquire a conscious security of faith? By frequently meditating on the Real Presence, on the value of Holy Communion, and on the significance of the Sacrifice of the Mass. To make this easy and attractive, Father Williams offers a short meditation for every day of the year on some phase of the Eucharistic mystery. These considerations, based on the words of Scripture and the teachings of theology, are so clear and simple, so attractive and devotional, that any one who ponders them slowly and prayerfully will continually grow in knowledge and love of the Holy Eucharist. The author makes excellent and practical use of Scripture texts, which lend a stimulating touch to every paragraph. Throughout 260 September, 1950 BOOK NOTICES we sense a mellow tone of ~olid piety, and nowhere is there the least evidence of sentithentality or pious exaggeration. We highly recom-mend the book for use in visiting the Blessed Sacrament. --HENRY WILLMERING, S.J. BOOK NOTICES WE LIVE WITH OUR EYES OPEN is a sequel to the earlier work by Dom Hubert van Zeller, O.S.B., which was entitled We Die Standir~g Up. In his first book Father van Zeller treated chiefly the obstacles encountered in the quest for holiness. In the thirty-nine essays of the present volume he centers our attention on the means to sanctity. Here as before the treatment of his theme is straightforward and stimulating. Most of the essays discuss the use of creatures, in-terior prayer, mysticism, asceticism, and the proper orientation of the virtue of love in general and as applied to the sacrament of matri-mony. (New York: Sheed ~ Ward, 1950. Pp. x -q- 172. $2.00.) Richelieu's France of the seventeenth century was the scene for the life and work of Charles de Condren, the second superior of the Oratory in France. M. V. Woodgate's CHARLES DE CONDREN iS not a mere pious biography in the old tradition, but a balanced, though brief, account of a very human, holy, and at times, weak personality. (Westminster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. xi + 155. $2.25.) LITURGICAL PRAYER: ITS HISTORY AND SPIRIT, by Msgr. Fer-nand Cabrol, O.S.B., is an offset reproduction of a liturgical classic which first apeared in its French original in 1900. It was later trans-lated by a Benedictine of Stanbrook in a 1921 edition. The litera-ture and the notes cited are, therefore, of the last years of the last cen-tury, but the text, by a man who could combine deep knowledge with popular presentation, is as timely now as when first written. (Westminster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. xiv -t- 382. $3.50.) The important role of congregations of religious women in the development of the Church, and especially of Catholic education, in the United States cannot be overemphasized. One of the latest his-torical studies dealing with this theme is Sister Maria Kostka Logue's SISTERS OF ST. JOSEPH OF PHILADELPHIA. This carefully docu- 261 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Reoieto for Religious mented, highly objective, and interesting work covers a century of growth and development of the Congregation in the eastern states from 1847 to 1947. (Westminster, Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. xii q- 380. $5.00.) Religious, by profession particularly interested in the hidden life of Christ with its message of self-effacement, obscurity and obedi-ence, should be grateful to Dr. Patrick J. Temple for PATTERN DIVINE: OUR LORD'S HIDDEN LIFE. This book fills a real need, for too many books on the childhood of Christ are either apologetic or piously exaggerated, while chapters in standard "Lives of Christ" are generally too meagre. Dr. Temple gives a detailed account of the exterior life of the Holy Family at Nazareth and presents the Jewish life, society and thought that affected the youthful Christ. Every page of the book is documented, and the explanations in the foot-notes justify the claim that the story of PATTERN DIVINE is not imaginative and fictitious, but sober truth and reliable fact. The devotional tone, which pervades the whole account, is conspicuous in a concluding summary paragraph for each chapter. A very copious bibliography and a detailed index are additional assets of the work. (St. Louis: B. Herder Book Company, 1950. Pp. xii-k 389. $5.00) PRAYER FOR _A_LL TIMES, by Pierre Charles, S. J., and trans-lated from the French by Maud Monahan, is a reprint of a spiritual classic that has already gone through seven editions. The publishers are to be congratulated for combining the former three separate vol-umes. into one. Each of the ninty-nine chapters of two and one half pages deals with some important point in the spiritual life. The book can be used either for spiritual reading or for points for medi-tation. One chapter at a time is sufficient since each chapter demands reflection, application, prayer. The deep spiritual insight and many practical suggestions are brought home in a kindly spirit and a graphic style. (Westminsier, Md.: The Newman Press, 1950. Pp. 328. $3.50.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS [For the most part, these notices are purely descriptive, based on a cursory exam-ination of the books listed.] THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. THE HOLY RULE OF ST. BENEDICT. Pp. xiv q- 95. $1.00 (paper) ; $2.00. (cloth). 262 September, 1950 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENT8 SAINT BENEDICT THE MAN. By Dom I. Ryelandt, O.S.B. Translated from the French by Rev. Patrick Shaughnessy, O.S.B. Pp. 102. $1.25. The first book, a second printing, besides the Rule contains a Short biographical sketch of St. Benedict by Aidan Cardinal Gasque~ and a sermon on the saint by Pope Pius XlI. The second contains three studies of the inner life, "the moral physiognomy," of St. Bene-dict. The studies are based on an analysis of his Rule, on St. Greg-ory the Great's life of th~ saint, and on a comparative study of St. Benedict and St. Francis de Sales. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, St. Louis, Missouri. CHRIST THE SAVIOR. By Rev. Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P. Translated by Dom Bede Rose, O.S.B. Pp. iv + 748. $9.00. This is the English edition of Ft. Lagrange's Latin textbook, DE CHRISTO SALVATORE, a commentary on the Third Part of St. Whomas's SUMMA THEOLOGICA. A thirty-page "Compendium of Mari-ology" rounds out the volume. ISTITUTO PADANO DI ARTI GRAFICHE, Rovigo, Italy IL DIRITTO DELLE RELIGIOSE. By Rev. Louis Fanfani, O.P. Pp. xxii + 346. L. 1500. This is the third edition of the author's Italian LAW FOR RELIGIOUS WOMEN based on his larger Latin work, DE IURE RELIGIOSORUM. "It has been brought up to date with the most recent decisions of the Holy See, and has been improved in some points by a more accurate exposition of the canons of the Code referring to religious women." NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Margland. REVOLUTION IN A CITY PARISH. By Abb4 G. Michonneau. Pp. xxi -~- 189. $2.50. The city parish is in the mission of France among the working class population in the Paris suburbs. A co-worker, Father H. Ch. Ch4ry, O.P., and the Abb4 discuss in dia-logue form the needs and difficulties, the objectives and methods in their missionary apostolate. SAINT PAUL AND APOSTOLIC WRITINGS. By Sebastian Bul-lough, O.P. Pp. xviii q- 338. $3.00. This latest volume in the series of Scripture textbooks for use in Catholic schools in England deals with the Pauline Epistles, the seven Catholic Epistles, and the Apocalypse. Ft. Bullough's exegesis and commentary provide a valuable background for a more intelligent and fruitful understand-ing of these important New Testament writings. 263 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Ret;ieto for Religious SERMON NOTES ON THE SUNDAY PROPERS. By Rev. F. H. Drinkwater. Pp. 119. $2.00. A reprint. The author derives useful themes from parts of the Mass propers exclusiye of the epistles and gospels. SOME RARE VIRTUES. By Raoul Plus, S.J. Translated from the French by Sister Mary Edgar Meyer, O.S.F. Pp. vi q- 213'. $1.75. All virtues are rare, but some that Fr. Plus treats of are especially rare, such as "Knowing how to be grateful," "Good use of time" and "Pity for the sick and afflicted." It is the first English publication of this work. THE. SUPPLICATION OF SOULS. By St,f Thomas More. Edited by Sister Mary Thecla, S.C. Pp. xiii -{- 187. $2.50. This book is Thomas More's refutation of the heretical work of Simon Fish,' SUPPLICATION FOR THE BEGGARS. This is an instance to prove Father J. J. Daly's remark "More's was the" only pen at the service of the Church to do battle in the vernacular against heresy." In the book St. Thomas defends the clergy against irreverent and unfair attack and upholds the doctrine on purgatory, making a moving ap-peal for the poor souls. The book is mostly, but not exclusively, of historical interest. FOR YOUR INFORMATION (Continued from page 251) tolic Press Association, a non-profit organization. One departure from existing journalism is the financing of the paper. Instead of advertising it will depend on circulation revenue. And for initial expenses the founders are enlisting the charity of those Catholics who believe there is a need for such a paper. There will be five issues weekly, and two editions: one local and one national. The national edition will be delivered by air cargo and should reach most subscribers on the day of publication. Prices for one year are: $14.00 for the national edition; $12.50 for the local. For the scale of prices on shorter terms, as well as for other informa-tion, write to: The Sun Herald, 702 East 12th St., Kansas City 6, Mo. Confessors' Patron St. Alphonsus Liguori, founder of the Redemptorists, has long (Continued on page 280) 264 ues!: ons Answers ~2 Im We wish to gain the Jubilee indulgence. Our local ordinary has made no pronouncement on the subject. Have our i:onfessors the authority to prescribe the necessary conditions for gaining this indulgence? Is it neces-sary to go to confession and to receive Holy Communion each time? As Father Bergh pointed out in his article on "The Holy Year of 1950" in the January number of the Reuieto, the general require-ments for gaining the Jubilee indulgence in Rome are: reception of the sacraments of Penance and.the Eucharist,-and visits to the four major Roman basilicas in which certain prescribed prayers must be said. Outside Rome, for those who are entitled by way of exception to gain the Jubilee indulgence at home (all women religious among others), the local ordinary or any confessor delegated by him may substitute other works, of religion, piety, and charity in place of the visits to the four Roman basilicas. In places where the local ordinary has, made no provision, confessors may presume that they have received tacit delegation to make the substitution. Confession and Holy Communion are required for each gaining of the indulgence. ~22m Is it in accord with canon law for religious 1o be given permissibn ÷6 take trips during the summer if their relatives pay the expensesmeven if those trips are pilgrimages to Rome and to various shrines? The obligation to common life which is imposed upon all reli-gious by canon 594 forbids superiors to allow certain members of the community to take a trip (even though it be a pious pilgrimage) merely because parents, relatives, or friends are willing to pay the expenses. Common life requires that the community supply a reli-gious with whatever he needs, just as everything which comes to him as a religions must be put in the community funds. Common life also requires that, generally speaking, equal opportunities be given to all members of the community. Hence a superior could allow the members of his community to make a pious pilgrimage provided that he supplied the necessary expense money for such members of his community as do not have relatives or friends who are willing to pay for them. Again, the constitutions of the community would have to be consulted to see whether such trips, pious or otherwise, are allowed. An article explaining this matter of common life in 265 QUESTIONS AND ~NSWERS Review for Religious detail will be found in this Review for January, 1948, pp. 33-45. When we say that common life generally requires that equal opportunity be given to all, we do not mean that it is a~ainst com-mon life to allow certain privileges (like a pilgrimage) to jubilari-ans, to the perpetually professed, and so forth. In such cases, how-ever, the use of the privilege should be extended to the whole group and should not be limited to those who can procure the necessary funds from relatives or friends. --23- Has a meeting of provincial superiors presided over by the superior general and his councilors the authority to change a custom which has been observed in the congregation for over one hundred years, or is such a change reserved to the general, chapter? Only a general chapter can change customs which are common t~ a religious congregation. The constitutions could give the power to the superior general and his councilors, but this would have to be stated explicitly. --24~ What precisely are the Normae, so often referred to in leglslation for religious communities? How much authority is aHached to them? Must all constitutions and custom books of nuns conform to these Normae? About the year 1860 the Sacred Congregation of Bishops and Regulars, then in charge of all religious orders and congregations, began to establish uniform regulations for the new religious congre-gations, especially of women, which were increasing in number. More or less uniform sets of constitutions were given to them on trial, until they took permanent shape for each congregation in the draft which was given final approval. In the course of forty years some things were changed, others were added, and some were dropped. These regulations, in the shape of a set of model constitutions for religious congregations with simple vows, were published on June 28, 1901 under the title of Norms according to which the Sacred Congregation o~ Bishops and Regulars is accustomed to proceed in the approval of new institutes with simple vows. The Normae did not establish any formal legislation for religious congregations, but were published for the sole use of the Sacred Congregation as a guide in the composition and construction of constitutions for new congre-gations with simple vows seeking the approval of the Holy See. Thus most of the congregations approved during the last part of the nine- 266 September, 1950 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS teenth century and first part of the twentieth (until the new Code of Canon Law in 1918) are based exclusively on the Normae. These old constitutions had to be revised in order to bring them into con-formity with the new Code of Canon Law. However, most of the matter contained in the Normae was incorporated into the Code, with modifications, omissions, and additions, of course. Hence the Normae are useful even today because they give us a better under-standing of the canons of the Code which deal with similar matters, as well as of the constitutions themselves in which the wording of the Normae has been retained in great part. To answer our question-: New constitutions and customs need not and should not conform to the old Normae but exclusively to the present Code of Canon Law. --25~ Is ÷here any difference in ÷he meanlncj and in the use of the followin9 words applicable to Sisters taken collectively: community, order, sister-hood, congregation, institute? In everyday life these general terms are used indiscriminately to signify a group of religious women. Canonically speaking, how-ever, there is a difference in their meaning, which is contained in the definitions provided for us in canon 488 of the Code. Thus: (1) An "institute" (religio) is any society, approved by legitimate ecclesiastical authority, the members of which tend to evangelical perfection, according to the laws proper to the society, by the profes: sion of public vows, whether perpetual or temporary. (2) An "order" is an institute whose members make profession of solemn vows. (3) A "religious congregation" or simply a "congregation" is an institute whose members make profession of simple vows only, whether perpetual or temporary. The canon does not define the terms "community" and "sisterhood," but it does define (4) "nuns" as religious women with solemn vows or, unless it appears other-wise from the nature of the case or from the context, religious women whose vows are normally solemn, but which, by a disposition of the Holy See, are simple in certain regions; whereas "sisters" are reli-gious women with simple vows. The term "community" is not used officially in canon law. It popularly indicates either an "institute," which is a general term in-cluding both orders and congregations, or it is used to identify a local group of religious, classified in canon law as a "religious house." "Sisterhood" is a popular term for an institute of religious women, 267 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS whether of nuns or of sisters, though technically it should be restricted to an institute of sisters only. 26 Do the words: rule, holy rule, constitutions, and customary, represent distinct thlncjs, or has the term "the rule" the same meanincj as "constitu-tions"? Technically the term '"Rule" always refers to one of four great rules which most religious orders followed down to the sixteenth century, and which they still follow, and which are followed by a number of modern religious congregations. These are: the Rule of St. Benedict, the Rule of St. Basil, the Rule of St. Augustine, and the Rule ot: St. Francis. To these four rules, which are stable and unchangeable, other regulations regarding details not contained in the rules have been added, and these additions were called "constitu-tions." In the sixteenth century the new orders of clerics regular who did not adopt any of the four great rules, introduced a new system whereby the fixed and stable parts of their legislation were called "constitutions" while other minor regulations which were changeable were called "rules." Modern congregations, even though they follow one of the four great rules, have a body of practical legislation known as "constitu-tions," and approved either by the local Ordinary or by the Holy See. Minor observances are called "regulations" or "rules." The term "customary," or "book of customs," and the like, indicate observances usually brought into being by custom or usage, first in one community, then in another, and finally in a whole insti-tute. These may be changed by a general chapter, but no general chapter has the right to change the constitutions approved by the Holy See or by the local ordinary. OUR CONTRIBUTORS P. DELETTER is a member of the faculty of St. Mary's theological college, Kurseong, India. WINFRID HERBST, writer, retreat master, former master ot~ nov-ices, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. GER-ALD KELLY and JEROME ]~REUNIG are members of the editorial board of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.Fr. Breunig succeeds Father Alfred Schneider as editorial secretary. 268 Report !:o Rome [In the following pages we conclude the publishing of the List of Questions to be answered in the quinquennial report by pontifical institutes. We have printed these questions, not only as an aid to superiors who must answer, them, but also as a means of giving all religious a better knowledge of the Church's law concerning religious. The questions are published exactly as they appear in the official English trans-lation. Questions marked with an asterisk (*) concern only institutes of men: those marked with a cross ('1") refer only to institutes of women. For information about the means of obtaining the copies of the questions, see p. 236.--ED.] ARTICLE III Coneernlncj those who have departed or been dismissed, and others who leave the Institute Concerning those who haue gone out from the Institute 248. a) How many in the Institute and in each Province, at the expiration of their vows did not renew them, either because they chose not to do so or because they were not allowed to do so. b) How many of the professed of temporary vows were dis-pensed during their vows, and how many of the professed of per-petual vows were dispensed. 249. Were those who were dispensed from tbeir vows at their own request or with their consent, forced, or without serious and grave reasons and precautions permitted, to leave the religious house before the rescript was duly executed. 250. How many transfers, if any, were there to another In-stitute. C6ncerning apostates and fugitiues 251. a) How many apostates and fugitives, if any, were there during the five-year period. b) Did the Society or Institute observe the provisions of law concerning apostates and fugitives, by seeking them (c. 645 § 2),and if this proved fruitless, by proceeding against them according to law, so that their juridical condition should be clearly defined. Were the provisions of law regarding those who came back observed (cc. 2385, 2386), and is watchful provision made for their spiritual good. Concerning those dismissed bg Superiors and those not admitted to profession 252. a) Since the last Report, how many of the professed of 269 REPORT TO ROME Review for Religious temporary v, ows and how many of the professed of perpetual vows have been dismissed, according to Provinces. b) In the dismissal of religious, whether of temporary or of perpetual vows, were the norms of the common law (cc. 647 § 2, 649-672) as well as those of the Constitutions observed. c) Was the same done in regard to not admitting the professed of temporary vows to the renewal of their vows or to perpetual profession (c. 637). 253. Were the dismissed of temporary vows, while the recourse duly made within ten days was pending (c. 647 § 2; S. C. of Reli-gious, 20 July 1923, AAS, XV, I923, p. 457), and the dismissed of perpetual vows, before the decree or judgment of dismissal had been confirmed by the Sacred Congregation (cc. 652, 666), forced to leave the Institute. 254. Are the dismissed who are not in sacred orders released from their vows by the dismissal (c. 669 § 1); and if the vows remain, does the Institute show solicitude regarding their condition (c. 672 § 1). Concerning those dismissed by the law itself and those sent back to the world 255. What were the cases, and the causes which led to them, for both the professed of temporary and those of perpetual vows, where they were either sent back to the world on account of grave scandal or very grave harm (co. 653, 668) or dismissed by the law itself (c. 646). 256. Were steps immediately taken according to the Code (cc. 646 § 2, 653, 668) to determine the condition of those dis-missed by the law itself and of those sent back to the world. 257. Is there any such person whose condition still r~mains undetermined. 258. What cases if any have occurred of the reduction to the lay state of religious who had received sacred orders; how many were voluntary and how many penal. Concerning those who were exctoistered 259. How many cases of exclaustration were there, if any; are the causes carefully and conscientiously pondered in the presence of God before the petition is recommended and the rescript executed. 260. Does the Institute take care: a) That if it seems necessary to ask for an extension of the 270 September, 1950 REPORT TO ROME indults, they be renewed in due time. b) That the persons who are excloistered lead a worthy reli-gious llfe and return as soon as possible to some house of the Insti-tute. 261". Likewise does the'Institute take care regarding those who have been secularized on trial, and regarding their return to religion if at the expiration of the three-year period the indult is not renewed or they are not accepted, by the Ordinary. Concerning absences from the house ¯ 262. Do Superiors see to it that subjects remain out of the house only for a just and grave reason and for the shortest possible time, according to the Constitutions (c. 606 § 2). 263. For absences which exceed six months, except for studies or ministries according to law and the Constitutions, was the permis-sion of the Holy See always obtained (c. 606 § 2). 264. Is it allowed by reason or under color of a vacation, that time be spent with one's parents or outside a house of the Institute. Concbrning the deceased 265. Were the prescribed suffrages faithfully and promptly per-formed for all the deceased. ARTICLE IV Concernincj the various classes and conditions of religlous § 1. - CONCERNING CLERICS (This is dealt with in the Report on formation and studies). § 2. - CONCERh~ING Conversi OR COADJUTORS Concerning their education and training 266. Do Superiors, in accordance with c. 509 § 2, 2° give to those religious who belong to the class of conversi, instruction in Christian doctrine; and do Superiors, both before and after their pro-fession but especially during the earlier years, carefully attend to their spiritual, intellectual, civil and technical education according to the functions which they have to fulfill. 267. Are the religious allowed to engage in works which do not seem to be suitable to the religious state. 268. Do Superiors with paternal charity diligently provide also for the bodily health of the conversi or coadjutors. 271 REPORT TO ROME § 3. CONCERNING THOSE WHO ARE APPLIED TO MILITARY SERVICE Concerning the profession of those who are to be called for the first time to active militarg service 269*. Did Superiors regulate according to the decrees of the Holy See the temporary professions of those who are to be called for the first time to active military service or its equivalent. 270*. Were perpetual professions permitted before the first active military service or its equivalent, to which the young men are liable to be called. Concerning the religious during their militarg service 271". a) Did Superiors take care of their members in the service, watch over their life, communicate frequently with them, requiring a periodical account of their conduct, their actions and exercises of piety, etc. b) What special means were used to secure their perseverance. 272*. In cases of dismissal for just and reasonable causes, or of voluntary s.eparation from the Institute, did the Major Superior fol-low the p~escribed procedure and faithfully conserve all the docu-ments in the Archives. Concerning the renewal of temporarg profession after military service and the making of perpetual profession 273*. For admission to the renewal of temporary profession, was everything done which is prescribed by the common law and in the decrees regarding this matter. 274*. Was the prescribed time of the temporary profession com-pleted after military service, and also the time of the temporary vows which is prescribed by law and by the Constitutions before the making of the perpetual profession. CHAPTER III CONCERNING THE WORKS AND MINISTRIES OF THE INSTITUTE ARTICLE I Concerning minis÷ties in general Concerning the special end and the works of the Institute in general 275. Were the ministries proper to the Institute abandoned or neglected. 276. Were any works engaged in which are not contained in the 272 September, 1950 REPORT TO ROME special end of the Institute; if so, with what permission was this done. Concerning abuses in the exercise of ministries 277. Were any abuses in the exercise of ministries introduced during this time; if so what were they. 278. Is all appearance of avarice carefully avoided on the occasion of ministries. 279. Was begging from door to door, according to law (cc. 621, 622) and the Constitutions, done with the required permissions. 280. Moreover, in begging, were the rules of law (c. 623), the instructions of the Holy See (c. 624) and the norms of the Consti-tutions observed. 281. By reason of or under pretext of ministries, are an excessive or too worldly communication with seculars and frequent and pro-longed absences from the religious house permitted. 282. What precautions are taken in this communication in order to avoid harm to the religious and scandal to seculars. Concerning difficulties with the secular clergy or with other Institutes, etc. because of the ministries 283. On the occasion of the ministries did any friction occur with ecclesiastical Superiors, with pastors and the secular clergy, with other Institutes or with Chaplains. What were the chief instances of such difficulties and where did they occur. 284. What probable reasons can be assigned for these difficulties. and what remedies can be suggested for their avoidance. ARTICLE II Concerning special ministries Concerning Missions among infidels and heretics 285. In the Missions, or in any one of them, did the religious life suffer any harm, and if so, what were the reasons for this. 286. What safeguards were used or should have been used so that in the apostolate the faithful observance of religious discipline and the care of one's own sanctification be better secured. 287*. In the Missions, is the internal religious Superior distinct. from the ecclesiastical Superior. 288*. Did this union of offices in the same person result in advantages or rather in disadvantages. 273 REPORT TO ROME Review for Religious Concerning Parishes, Churches and Sanctuaries 289*. For the incorporation or union of parishes, was an indult of the Holy See obtained, according to cc. 452 § 1, 1423 § 2, so that there should be a union or incorporation properly effected. 290*. In what form were Parishes united to the Institute: pleno iure (absolutely, at the will of the Holy See), in temporalibus, etc., and from what date. (A copy of the document should be sent if there is one). 291". Was an agreement made with the Ordinary of the place to accept any parish. (Send copies of the agreements made during the five-year period). 292*. How do Superiors watch over and assist those of their subjects who are pastors (c. 631 §§ I-2), and in case of need admonish and correct them. 293*. Was the office of local Superior ever united with that of pastor, observing c. 505; did this union give rise to difficulties, or was it on the contrary attended with good results. 294*. Did the Institute obtain from local Ordinaries that Churches or Sanctuaries should be entrusted to it; if so, with what permission and on what terms and conditions was this done. 295*. How do all Superiors see to it that religious discipline suffer no harm from the ministries engaged in by the religious in parishes or in public churche~ which are entrusted to them. Concerning Colleges, Schools and Seminaries 296,*. Has the Institute entrusted to it any Seminaries of clerics, and if so on what terms. (Documents and agreements entered into regarding this matter during the five-year period should be attached). 297*. In these Seminaries, are there any difficulties with the Ordi-naries, concerning either the religious life and discipline or the gov-ernment of the Seminary. 298*. What measures and efforts are employed toward the sound and thorough training and religious education of the students. 299. Are there houses for the residence of young people who are attending public schools. 300. In these cases is very special care taken to see that the schools are safe from the standpoint of both instruction and education; especially is a careful supervision maintained over the instruction and religious education; and if there are any deficiencies are they carefully remedied. 301t. Are there schools which are attended by both sexes; 274 September, 1950 REPORT TO ROME as regards fixing the age beyond which boys may not be admitted or retained, have the prescriptions made by the Ordinaries been observed. 302. Do Superiors strictly see to it that Rectors, Prefects, Teach-ers and Professors receive adequate preparation for their work: a) Scientifically, by acquiring knowledge which corresponds adequately to the grade of the class, and by obtaining degrees and certificates, even such as are recognized outside ecclesiastical circles. b) Pedagogically, by the study and practice of the art of teaching. c) Spiritually, so that they may exercise the office of teaching with a genuine zeal for souls and make it a means of sanctification for themselves and others. 303. Do Superiors carefuIly see to it that the work of teaching be properly harmonized with religious discipline. 304. Did they promptly remove from the office of teaching those who in practicing it make light of the religious life and are not a good example to the students. Concerning the practice of the corporal works of mercg 305. Does the Institute practice the corporal works of mercy toward the sick, orphans, the aged, etc. 306. Are there: a) Guest-houses and hospital

Issue 8.1 of the Review for Religious, 1949. ; 0 A.M.D.G. ~ Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 1949 Sancta~ EcclesiaCatholica . . . . . . . . . . . ocafionsCosfMoney.'~,.-~, ~. . PeterM. Miller .B.a.p. ~t i.s.m. . Cal r e n Mce :A c ull fet The Spirit of Poverty ~.~ . . . ¯ . . . . . Joseph F. Gallen Decisions of the Holy See Ouestlons Answered s~ Book Reviews VOLU~E VII}. .~. NUrvIBEP, I RI VII::W FOR Ri:::LIGIOUS VOLUME VIII JANUARY, 1949 -NUMBER 1 CONTENTS SANCTA ECCLESIA CATHOLICAMJ. Putz, S.J . 3 VOCATIONS COST MONEY--Peter M. Miller, S.C.J .1.8. OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 24 BAPTISM--A DEATH AND RESURReCTION--Clarence McAuliffe, S.J2.5 A REPRINT SERIES--MAYBE! . 34 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTY--Joseph F. Gall n, S.J .3.5 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Jubilee Gifts and the Spirit of Poverty . 43 2. Moderator Keeps Acrit~itg Funds in his own Room . 44 3. Asperges at Community Mass . 44 4. Alms to Beggars . 44 5. Vows of Novice Postponed Five Days . 45 6. Report by Administrator of Patrimony . 4~ 7. Sunday Mass Obligation of Excommunicated Persons . 45 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . 46 BOOK REVIEWS-- Discourses on Our Lady; The Prayer Life of a Religious; In Spirit and in Truth . ~ . 47 BOOK NOTICES . 49 VOCATIONAL LITERATURE . 54 MY MASS . ' . ~ ¯ . ¯ 55 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 56 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, January. 1949. Vol. VIII, No. 1. Published bi-monthly: January, March. May, July, September, and November at the College Press. 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St/Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S~J. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F, Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 1949, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us. please consult noflce on fnsrde back cover. Review f:or Religious Volume VIII January--December, 1949 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edi÷ed by THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE Sf. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in fhe CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX Sancta I::cclesia Ca hollca J. Putz, S.J. THE world needs saints; in our time especially. It needs them not only for their supernatural merits and the great works they achieve; it needs saints to lo6k up to, to admire, to venerate. The more it is sunk in scepticism and mediocrity, in selfishness and materialism, the more it needs saints, witnesses of the invisible, living proofs of what human nature is capable of--a standard and an inspiration. The mere presence or'memory of saints is a blessing for mankind. To behold the saints is, in Newman's comparison, like coming out of a dark cave and discovering the sunlight. In the saints man-kind discovers the meaning of human dignity, the true standards of right and good. "It is the great mystics," wrote the French phi- Iosopher Bergson, "that have carried and still carry along with the'm the civilized societies. The recollection of what they have been, of what they have done, haunts the memory of mankind." Carlyle';~ well-known utterances on hero-worship apply particularly to the cult of the saints, mankind's most genuine heroes: "The manner of men's hero-worship," he wrote, "verily it is the innermost.fact of their existence and determines all the rest. [What would he say if he came back and found that the chief "heroes" of countless boys and girls are now the movie stars?] No nobler feeling than this of admi-ration for one higher than himself dwells in the breast of man. It is to this hour, and at all hours, the vivifying influence in man's life . No sadder proof can be given by a man of his own littleness than disbelief in great men . Not by flattering our appetites; no, by awakening the Heroic that slumbers in every heart, can any religion gain followers." (On Heroes and Hero-worship.) Holiness inanifested in great saints has ever been a mark of tbe Church of Christ. -. "Holiness begins from Christ; by Christ it is effected . His inexhaustible fulness is the fount of grace and glory. Our Saviour is continually pouring out His gifts of counsel, fortitude, fear and piety, especially on the leading members of His Body, so that the whole Body may grow daily in spotless holiness . J. PUTZ Review for Religious "He not only cares for each individual, but also watches over the whole Church: enligh~tening and fortifying her rulers for the faithful and fruitful discharge of their functions; and-~especially when times are difficult--raising up in the bosom of Mother Church men and women of conspicuous holiness, who will be an inspiration to the rest of Christendom, for the perfecting of the Mystical Body." (Plus XII, Mgstici Corporis; nn. 49 ~A 37 of the E.C.T.S. edition.) ?it all times, and especially during the dark periods of history, the Church has been rich in admirable saints. Canonized saints, it is true, are relatively few; for canonization has become a long and complicated process and consequently is reserved to those whom for special reasons the Church singles out from among the great army of men and women who in the cloister or in the world have closely and heroically followed in the footsteps of Christ. Since the beginning of his pontificate, Plus XII has proclaimed 44 new beati (among them 29 martyrs) and 12 saints. These Christian heroes, of whom we may well feel proud, represent a variety" of conditions and walks of life. Nearly all belong to the 19th century; some of them died in the present century, and their glorification could be witnessed by friends and relatives who had been the witnesses of their lives. Thus they prove by their example, as Plus XII pointed out (in his panegyric of Contardo Ferrini), that even in our own times it is possible to be a saint. In his "homilies" (at the canonization ceremony) and with greater detail in his allocutions to the pilgrims that crowd to Rome for these solemn functions, th~ Holy Father has underlined the char-acteristics of each saint and the lessons our times can learn from them. We shall borrow from him in the following survey. 1939-1946 We can give little more than a bare mention of those beatified or canonized before 1947, although the story of every one of them is a fascinating adventure. It will be noted that among those thus honored by the Church, the foundresses of new religious institutes predc~minate. This is but one sign of the steadily increasing share religious women have been taking in the work of the Church, both at home and in the mission field. June 18, 1939.--B1. Emily de Vialar (1797-1856), foundress of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Apparition for the care of the poor, sick, and children (some 1,200 at present). June 25, 1939.-~B1. Justin De Jacobis (1800-1860), an danuar~, 1949 SANCTA ECCLESIA CATHOLICA. Italian Lazarist, first vicar apostolic of Abyssinia. In spite of great difficulties, he converted 12,000 schismatics. May 2, 1940--St. Mary-Eupbrasia (1796-!868), foundress of the Good Shepherd of Angers (at present, 39 provinces with over I0,000 members) and of the Penitents of St. Magdalen (at present over 3,000). She was beatified in 1933. May 2, 1940.--St. Gemma Galgani (1878-1903), ~:irgin; famous mystic; prevented by her infirmities from becoming a reli-gious. Was beatified in 1933. May 12, 1940.--B1. Philippine Duchesne (1769-1852), of the Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus; went as a missionary to North America, where she established the Sisters of the Sacred Heart. May 19, 1940.--BI. Joaquina de Vedruna (1783-1854), first married to a nobleman of Vich (Spain), had nine children; after her husband's death founded the Carmelites of Charity of Vich, for the care of the poor and the sick (at present some 2,000 in Spain and Latin America). May 26, 1940.--B1. Mary-Crucified Di Rosa (1813-1855), foundress of the Servants of Charity of Brescia (Italy), for the care of the sick, the education of children and the preservation of young girls (at present, about 3,000 members). dune 9, 1940.--BI. Emily de Rodat (1787-1852), foundress of the Congregation of the Holy Famih.j of Villefranche (France). dune 16, 1940:--B1. Ignatius de Laconi (1701-1781), a Capuchin lay Brother; most of his humble but apostolic life was spent in Cagliari (Sardinia). December 7, 1940.--B1. Maddalena de Canosso (1744-1835), foundress of the Daughters of Charity, Servants of the Poor (3,500 members in 30 provinces). War conditions suspended all solemn functions during the next years. By decretal letter of November 19, 1943, Margaret of Hungary (1242-1271) was inscribed in the catalogue of saints on the strength of the liturgical cult she had been receiving uninter-ruptedly (equivalent to canonization). She was a daughter of Bela IV, Kin~ of Hungary; at twelve she made her religious pro-fession in a Dominican monastery, and not even the offer of the throne of Bohemia could bring her back to the world. The first canonization after the war (July 7, 1946) was that of Mother Frances Xavier Cabrini (1850-1917), foundress of the Institute of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart. Though J. PUTZ Reoiew for Religious an Italian, most of her extensive and tireless work was done in America, where she became "the mother of the Italian emigrants in the United States." She crossed the Atlantic twenty-four times. Eventually she was naturalized an American, so that she is "the first American Saint." "With an exterior life extraordinarily active she joined an interior and contemplative life of rare intensity; that is the secret of her prodigious apostolate" (Plus XII). That same year saw three beatifications: October 20, 1946.--B1. Marie-Therese de Soubiran (1834- 1889). Born of an illustrious family, she founded in 1864 the Society of Marie Auxiliatrice, charac'terized by nocturnal adoration and the modern apostolate of the working girls. Ten years later, until her death, she underwent a trial that is probably unique in the history of religious foundations. Her assistant, an ambitious and scheming woman who wanted to take her place, accused her of mis-management and succeeded in convincing the ecclesiastical authorities as well as Teresa's first director, Fr. Ginhac. Abandoned by all, ignominiously expelled from the institute she had founded, she did not utter a word "lest souls might suffer greater scandal" and set out on her Calvary into the cold, dark night. After knocking vainly at the doors of contemplative convents, she found refuge in a hospital until she was received into the Order of Our Lady of Charity. There she spent the last fifteen years of her life, in agony of soul, while her own institute was being led towards ruin. For years she was assailed by doubts and temptations, yet with heroic resignation carried her cross till the end. She died a year beforethe true character of her rival and successor was found out and her institute saved from ruin. October 27, 1946.--BI. Teresa-Eustochium Verzeri (1801- 1852). Born in Bergamo, Italy; she attempted the Benedictine life three times, but attacks of epilepsy forced her to leave. Through her trials, Providence guided this gifted and strong woman towards the foundation of a new religious institute for the education of girls, the Daughters of the Sacred Heart, Nooerober 24, I946.--Twenty-nine Boxer Martyrs. The Chinese nationalist "Boxer" rising of 1900, anti-foreign and espe-cially anti-Christian, proved to be one of the bloodiest persecutions the Church has ever suffered. The victims are estimated to have been 100, 000, among them many missionaries: Franciscans, Lazarists, Jesuits, Foreign Missionaries of Paris, Scheutists. The cause of 6 danuarg, 1949 SANCTA ECCLESIA CATHOLICA beatification of 2,418 martyrs of the Franciscan missions was intro-duced in 1926; but eventually, in order to speed up the process, 29 were singled out for beatification: 15 Europeans, viz., 8 Fran-ciscans (3 Bishops, 4 priests and 1 lay Brother), and 7 Franciscan Missionaries of Mary: among these 8 were Italian, 5 French, 1 Bel-gian, 1 Dutch; 14 Chinese, 5 of whom were seminarists and 9 mis-sion servants: all of these, except three servants, were Franciscan tertiaries. The brief "of beatification declares that they were killed not merely as foreigners, but in odium catholfcae £dei. In his panegyric the Holy Father observed that "the grace of martyrdom is generally, on the part of God, the crowning of a whole series of graces that gradually lead up to it; just as, on the part of man, the witness of blood is ordinarily the final gem of a long correspondence to grace." 1947 This year began with three beatifications, which were followed by five canonizations, giving us three new beati and eight saints (several saints being canonized together). April 13, 1947.~B1. Contardo Ferrini (1859-1902). "Most of those who reach the honours of beatification are religious men and women having lived far from the world. It would be useful, I think, for the edification of certain circles, to raise to the altars a marl who has magnificently united holiness of life and purity of faith with the scientific exigencies of a professorial chair. This would give the professors and students of our universities a worthy and appropriate patron." Thus wrote M~r. Duchesne when the cause of Contardo Ferrini was introduced. On April 13th of this year the Saint in the froch-coat (as he was cai~ed by Benedict XV, who greatly admired him) was beatified in the presence of a great number of professors and graduates, some of whom had been his colleagues or students. Born in Milan, Contardo Ferrini, after distinguished studies in Italy and Germany, occupied the chair of Roman Law at the uni-versities of Messina, Modena, and finally Pavia. That is the whole history of his short life. He wrote abundantly and soon acquired an international reputation as the leading specialist in his subject; no less an authority than Theodore Mommsen declared that, for the history of Greco-Roman Law, the primacy was passing from Germany to Italy thanks to Ferrini, and that the 20th century would be the century of Ferrini as the 19th century had been that of von Savigny. J. PUTZ Retffeto for Religious He shone no less by his'holiness. Man is an ens fnitum quod tendit ad infinitum, he wrote in one of his books--and he practised it. A Franciscan tertiary, he led a celibate and ascetical life in the world, seeking light and strength in his daily programme of spir-itual exercises: Communion, meditation, the rosary, and visit to the 131essed Sacrament. His arduous and highly specialized work wzs not something by the side of his spiritual life; he considered it as his way of serving God and the Church. His scientific achievements; his simple and deep piety--"he prayed like an angel," his exquisite charity, made of him "a living apology of the faith and of Catholic life." (Cardinal Pacelli, on Feb. 8, 1931, date of the decree on the heroism of Ferrini's virtues.) April 27, 1947. '131. Maria Goretti (1890-1902) virgin and martyr. It was fitting that our "aphrodisiac civilization" should see the glorification of one who died in defense of purity. Maria Goretti was born in a little village some 30 miles from Rome, from poor but deeply Christian parents. When she was not yet quite twelve, an 18 year-old neighbour, Alexander Serenelli, took a violent passion for her, but Maria ~efused to listen to his evil suggestions. On July 5, 1902, when she was alone in the house, Alexander approached her, carrying a dagger and decided to have his way. Exasperated by her resistance, he plunged the dagger into her breast. Her last words were words of forgiveness for her murderer. Alexander was sentenced to-30 years. In prison he repented and afterwards was a witness in the process of beatification. Among the unusually vast crowd that thronged St. Peter's on April 27tb were Maria's own mother, brother, and two sisters. In his allocution to the pilgrims (largely Catholic Actioia groups of girls) on the following day, the Holy Father congratulated, the mother for "the incomparable happiness of having seen her daughter elevated to the glory of the altars." Maria, he added, is the mature fruit of a Christian home with its old, simple method of education, "of a home where one prays, where the children are brought up in the fear of God, in obedience to their parents, in the love of truth and self-respect; accustomed to be satisfied with little and to give a helping hand . " Comparing Maria with St. Agnes, the Pope remarked that the delicate grace of these adolescent girls might make us overlook their fortitude; yet strength is the characteristic virtue of virgins and of martyrs. "How great is the error of those who consider virginity as an danuarg, 1949 SANCTA ECCLESIA CATHOLICA effect of the ignorance and ingenuousness of little souls without passion, without ardour, without experience, and therefore accord it only a smile of pity! How can be who has surrendered without struggle imagine what strength it requires to dominate, without a moment of weakness, the secret stirrings and urgings of the senses and of the heart which adolescence awakens in our fallen nature? to resist, without a single compromise, the thousand little curiosities which impel one to see, to listen, to taste, to feel, and thus approach the lips to the intoxicating cup ,and inhale the deadly perfume of the flower of evil? to move through the turpitudes of the world with a fir'mness " that is superior to all temptations, to all threats, to all seductive or mocking looks? "No. Agnes in the vortex of pagan society; Aloysius Gonzaga at the elegantly licentious courts of the Renaissance; Maria Goretti living close to, and pursued by, the passion of shameless persons: they were neither ignorant nor impassible, but they were strong, strong with that supernatural strength of which every Christian receives the seed in baptism Idu[ which must be cultivated by a careful eduation . "Our Beata was a strong soul. She knew and understood; and that is precisely why she preferred to die . She was not merely an innocent 'ingenue,' instinctively frightened by the shadow of sin. She was not sustained solely by a natural feeling of modesty. No. Though still young, she already gave clear signs of the intensity and depth of her love for the divine Redeemer . " The Holy Father then denounced present-day public immorality and called on Catholics to react boldly. "Woe to the world because of scandals! "Woe to those who con-sciously and deliberately corrupt souls by the novel, the newspaper, the periodical, the theatre, the film, the immodest fashion! . . . Woe to those fathers and mothers who, through lack of energy and prudence, give in to every caprice of their sons and daughters, and renounce that paternal and maternal authority which is like a reflec-tion of the divine majesty! But woe also to so many Christians in name and appearance, who, if only they wanted could rise against the evil and would be supported by legions of right-minded persons ready to fight scandal with every means! "Legal justice punishes the child's murderer--and it is its duty to do so. But those who have armed his hand, who have encouraged him, who let him do with indifference or with an indulgent smile, J. PuTz Revfeu~ for Religious what human justice will dare or be able to strike these as they deserve? Yet they are the real guilty ones. On them--deliberate corrupters or inactive accomplices--weighs the terrible justice of God . "May the blood of the innocent victim joined to the tears of the repentant murderer, work the miracle of moving the perverted hearts, and of opening the eyes and shaking off the torpor of so man'? indifferent or timid Christians." May 4, 1947.--B1. Alix Le Clerc (1576-1622). Her spiritual career began when, after a somewhat worldly adolescence, she came under the influence of St. Peter Fourier, who was parish priest not far from her native Remiremont. With him she founded the Canonesses of St. Augustine of the Congregation of Our Lady. "The beginnings were very humble, that Christmas night of 1597, whet1 five young women consecrated themselves to God before the whole parish for the exercise of all kinds of good works among the poor, the peasants, the ignorant. No vows, no convent. Those conse-crated were to continue to live with their families, without a religious habit--neither nuns nor seculars." But in those days the world could not understand that kind of life and they were obliged to form a regular religious institute. Guided by circumstances, they made the education of girls their chief work. In that early 17th century they were pioneers in the education of women. Ma~t 15, I947.--St. Nicholas de Flue (1417-1487), a Swiss, born near the Lake of the Four Cantons, showed himself a great Christian in the military, civil, and married life before he became a hermit. As a young man he was for some years a soldier, fighting for his native canton and rising to the rank of captain. He then married Dorothy Wyss and was blessed with an offspring of ten children. A respected citizen, he tookan active part in the civil and political life of his country and held office as councillor and magis-trate- all the while spending whole nights in prayer. Suddenly, at the age of fifty, in 1467, after a vision of the Blessed Trinity, he resolved that he must leave all and go away to live entirely for God. Having obtained the consent of his wife and arranged the affairs of the family, he retired to the mountainous solitude of Ranft, where the people soon built him a little cell and chapel. Here he spent the last twenty years of his life in great austerity; many witnesses have testified that during those years he took neither food nor drink, but only Holy Communion. "Brother Klaus," as he was popularly 10 ,lanuar~J, 1949 SANCTA ECCLESIA CATHOLICA known, was greatly venerated even beyond the Swiss border. People high and low flocked to his cell to seek his counsel and prayer. In 1481, when ~be deputies of the Swiss cantons were assembled at Stans and an open breach seemed inevitable, Brother Klaus was brought in and his farsighted patriotism saved the day and thus helped to lay the foundations of modern united Switzerland. He wa~ beatified in 1669 and venerated as the patron of Switzer-land. After the First World War, devotion to him greatly increased, as the people attributed the safety of their country to his protection. At the canonization, Plus XII pointed out his "providential actu-ality." Intimately mixed up with the concrete realities of his time. he remained deeply united with God and became a model of civic and domestic virtues. Only a return to that "synthesis of religion and life" can save our modern society. June 22, 1947.--Three great models for pri.ests: St. John de Britto, S.J. (1647-1693), the royal page who became a martyr in India, (beatified in 1852); St. Bernardine Realino, S.J. (1530- 1616), the lawyer and magistrate who at the age of 34 interrupted a promising career to become a religious and was for 50 long years the "apostle of the confessional" (beatified in 1895); St. Joseph Cafasso (1811-1860), a secular priest from Turin, the "Pearl of the Italian clergy," director of St. John Bosco and superior of the Seminary of Turin from 1848 (beatified in 1925). In his homily, the Pope set "the apostolic fire and the indomitable courage even unto death" of John de Britto as an example to all missionaries. From Realino and Cafasso he asked every priest to learn "a tireless alacrity, patience, kindness, and above all, constant application to prayer, gince all human labour is vain unless it be seconded by God." The following day, speaking to the numerous pilgrims, the Holy Father began by analyzing the "unity in variety" of the two new Jesuit Saints. They.,.were so different in their youth, the gay and intelligent student of" law and the pious and serious little page; different in their priestly life: the quiet page becomes the "imitator and emulator of St. Francis Xavier," leading a life of heroic adven-tures till his violent death; the ex-lawyer finds his India in his home country, in the town of l.ecce, where he spends his long life in the humble ministry of the confessional. Yet how alike the two were spiritually, for both express the same Ignatian ideal: Homines mundo crucifixos et quibus mundus ipse sit crucifixus: both these men broke all ties of earthly satisfactions, affections and 11 J. PUTZ Ret)ietu for Religlous ambitions, for the love of Christ crucified. ("John passed through the world as a ray through the shade of a dark forest.") In labor[bus: apostolic fire, heroic iabours; with John, "a tire-less movement of action without rest, until interrupted by martyr-dom"; with Bernardine, "'the immobility without impatience of the confessor and spiritual director, who sacrifices himself day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute." Their zeal knows no bounds, and in order to "multiply and extend their action beyond the limits of space and time" they train apostles among the laity (inspired in this by St. Ignatius and by the divine Master Himself) ; in this way John multiplies conversions by communicating his missionary spirit to his converts; Bernardine, through his sodalities, his groups of nobles and workers, penetrates into every corner of Lecce and makes his charity reach every misery spiritual and material. Maximam Dei gloriam semper intuentes: "the ardent desire to promote the glory of God was the illuminating flame, the fountain of the most intense energy in the life of both John and Bernardine; it made them brothers in indefatigable work for souls; it reveals to us the secret of their contempt for the world, of their heroic labours, of their indifference to all the hazards of the road." St. Joseph Cafasso was sent by Providence for "the supremely important and fruitful work of the formation and sanctification of the clergy." He himself was so imbued with the supernatural spirit of the Gospel "that it was no longer he who seemed to live, but Christ in him." "No one more than he has left his mark on the Piedmontese clergy of the 19th and 20th centuries; he has saved them from the dessicating and sterilizing climate of Jansenism and rigor-. ism . How many owe to his guidance their firmness in the "sentire cure Ecclesia," the holiness of their sacerdotal life, their fidelity to the many duties of their vocation . His influence con-tinues; for though the pastoral ministry must adapt itself to the ever-changing circumstances--thus v.g., the social duties which today rest on the shoulders of the priest are incomparably more grave and difficult than at the time of our Saint--yet the spirit, the soul of the sacerdotal life remains the same." "At all times the priest, according to the promise of the divine Master, has been made the butt of insults and persecutions, and in his heart he reckons this promise as a beatitude. But today he is so much more exposed to the crossfire of bitter criticisms not only from 12 ,lanuarg, 1949 SANCTA ECCLESIA CATHOLICA unscrupulous adversaries who throw at him the mud of vilification and calumny, but what is more painful, sometimes also from our own ranks. As the present conditions leave the victims of such defamations practically defenseless, it is more necessary for you, beloved priests, to avoid giving to the critics not only a motive but even the slightest pretext. To this end the highest means will be to model your conduct on that of Joseph Cafasso, by the absolute abne-gation of yourselves, free from all earthly propensities and inter-ests; by a spotless life joined to that fine tact and delicate under-standing of souls which was in so high a degree the characteristic of our new Saint." The Pope .concluded with the wish that the union between the priest and his people may grow deeper. St. Cafasso had the confi-dence of all, young and old, rich and poor. "May he obtain from God, for his country and for the whole Church, a people filled with confidence in the priest, and priests worthy of that confidence!" July] 6, 1947.--Two Saints who were closely united durifig their lifetime. St. Elisabeth Bichier des Ages (1773-1838)', beati-fied in 1934. "Favoured in every way with the most varied gifts of nature and grace," Elisabeth proved her fearless and generous charac-ter during the troubled years of the French Revolution. God then made her meet a holy priest, Andre Fournet (canonized in 1933), who directed her towards high perfection and with whom she founded the Congregation of the Daughters of the Cross known as the "Sisters of St. Andrew." After the death of Andre Fournet she found another Saint to direct her, Michael Garicoits, who has now been canonized on the same day as herself. St. Michael Garicoits (1797-1863), born of poor parents, began life as a domestic servant and worked his way through the schools that he might become a priest. As a you.ng vicar he distinguished him-self by his enlightened zeal and was sent to the seminary of B~thar-ram (a famous sanctuary of Our Lady in the south of France), first as professor and then as superior. Here he became the director of St. Elisabeth Bichier and her institute. Encouraged by her, he also founded a religious congregation, the Priests of the Sacred Heart of desus of B~tharram. He was beatified in 1923. dulg 20, 1947.--St. Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort (1673- 1716), a Breton, beatified in 1888. He had a special love for the poor, and after his ordination, at Saint Sulpice in 1700, he spent a ¯ few years as chaplain in a hosPital. In 1704 he found his true voca- 13 J. PUTZ Reviel~ [or Religious tion: he took to the road as an "apostolic missionary," and during the next twelve years went about preaching in the towns and villages of western France to revive the love of God which had grown cold. He was a fiery orator, and his extraordinary success angered the Jansen-ists, who persecuted him from town to town. He founded two reli-gious congregations: th~ Daughters o[ Wisdom, who were to devote themselves to hospital work and the instruction of the poor (at pres-ent they number about 5,000) ; and the missionaries of the Compan,.j o[ Mary, also called "Montfortists" (the initials S.M.M. stand for Societatis Mariae a Mont[ort). He is best known by his True Devotion to Mar~ , which consists in total self-dedication to Mary and through her to Jesus. In spite of the reserve of some theologians, it has been adopted with great fruit by many fervent souls, among them the Legion of Mary and numerous priests. Here are the words of Plus XII concerning it: "His great secret for attracting souls and giving them to Jesus was the devotion to Mary . Indeed he could not find a more effective means for his time. To the joyless austerity, the gloomy fear, the depressing pride of Jansenism he opposed the filial love-- confident, ardent, active--of the devout servant of Mary towards her who is the refuge of sinners, the Mother of divine grace, our life. our sweetness, our hope . "True devotion--that of tradition, of the Church, and, we might say, of Christian and Catholic common sense-~essentiaIly strives for union with Jesus, under the guidance of Mary. The form and prac-tice of this devotion may vary according to time, place, and personal inclination . True and perfect devotion to the Blessed Virgin is not so bound up with these modalities that any one of them could claim a monopoly. "Hence We ardently desire that, beyond the various manifesta-tions of this piety, all of you draw from the treasure of our Saint's writings and examples that which is the core of his Marian devo.- tion: his firm conviction of the powerful intercession of Mary, his resolute will to imitate her virtues, the burning fire of his love for her and for Jesus." dul~t 27, 1947.--St. Catherine Laboure (1806-1876) ; apeasant girl, the ninth of eleven children; at ten she lost her mother and spent her youth at home performing the duties of housekeeper. Meanwhile. having heard a call to the religious life, she applied herself to the practice of mortification arid of an intense interior life. In 1830 she 14 danuar~/, 1949 SANCTA ECCLESIA CATHOLICA was allowed to join the Daughters of Charit~g of St. Vincent de Paul in the rue du ]dac at Paris. That same year, while still a novice, she was favoured with heavenly visions and received the mission to pro-mote the devotion to Mary, Mediatrix and Queen of the Universe, by having a medal struck and a statue made according to what she had seen in the vision. She .confided in her confessor, M. Aladel, who after careful investigations received permission from the Arch-bishop of Paris to have the medal struck. The medal, issued in 1832, soon spread over the whole world and came to be known as the "miraculous medal." All the time Catherine's identity remained secret, hidden even from the ecclesiastical authorities. After her novitiate she spent her remaining 46 years in the hospice d'Enghien in Paris. There she lived an unobtrusive life, working in the kitchen, in charge of the linen room or of the poultry, or looking after the aged who were supported in the hospice. All considered her as j.ust a simple, pious Daughter of Charity, a lover of poverty and of obedience. No one in the world or in the community suspected that this obscure nun was "the Sister who had seen the Virgin" and of whom everyon~ was speaking. She kept heroic silence. But one part of Our Lady's wish, that relating to the statue, was not yet fulfilled; that is why, on her deathbed, she revealed her secret to her superior. Her funeral was the occasion of an outburst of popular veneration. A child of twelve, crippled from birth, was cured at her grave. She was beatified in 1933 by Plus XI who declared that he knew "no more shining example of the hidden life." Her long life of self-effacement is summed up by Plus XII in the words of the Imitation of Christ: "'ama nescfrf.'" November 9, 1947.~Blessed Jeanne Delanoue (1666-1736) was the child of a French shopkeeper. She devoted herself to the tare of the poor, the aged, the sick, and the suffering, and eventually founded for this work the Sisters of St. Anne of Providence. In his panegyric the Holy Father spoke of the eminent dignity of the poor as illustrated in the life of B1. Jeanne. The voice of the poor is the voice of Christ; the body of the poor is the body of Christ; the life of the poor is the life of Christ. A Schoolmaster Beatfged On April 4, 1948, Brother Benildus, a member of the Congrega-tion of St. de la Salle, was solemnly beatified by Pope Plus XII. Born in Auvergne in 1805, he joined the Brothers of the Christian 15 d. PUTZ Review [or Religious Schools at sixteen. After ~eaching in various elementary schools, in 1841 be was sent with two colleagues to opena primary school at Saugues, a little market town, where he remained till his death on August 13, 1862. His beatification has a special significance for school teachers, for Brother Benildus is probably the first school master to be raised to the altars without any other claim to such honors than the exercise of his profession according to the rules of his institute. Other teachers have been canonized who were martyrs or miracle workers or ecstatic contemplatives or founders of great institutes; but Brother Benildus was nothing but a plain school master, whose whole uneventful life was spent in the classroom. The Holy Father stressed this point in his panegyric on April 5tb. He described Brother Benildus as a model no less imitable than admirable. His secret was perfect fidelity to dut~z--his rules and the daily grind of a schoolmaster. In this he practiced the heroic virtues which the Church requires for canonization. The Pope spoke of the "slow martyrdom" of teachers, which he compared to that of St. Cassian. Speaking of the new beatus, the Pope said: "He loved his children. Yet what a heavy cross they put on his shoulders! The martyrology mentions the execution of a school-master [St. Cassian] whose pupils became his executioners and made him suffer the more as their feeble stabs prolonged his torture. This is an isolated fact, but how many teachers for years, for the whole of a long religious life, have to bear a kind of slow martyrdom from the children who are u;aaware of the suffering they inflict. 'If we did not have the faith,' Brother Benildus once said, 'our profession would be painful indeed; the children are difficult. But with the faikh how everything changes!' " His constant fidelity, the Pope added, to all the detaiIs of his duty, his radiant charity, his serenity in difficulties could .flow only fr6m a deep and vigorous interior life and habitual union with God. In one of his panegyrics of the new saints, the Pope remarked: "More than once We have made you admire, in the variety of their physiognomies, the richness of the divine palette, of that raultiforrnis gratia (~1 Pet. 4:10) which, as it were, projects on the forehead of each saint, like the prism on the screen, one of the vari-ously coloured reflections of the one and infinite Uncreated Light; so that their conjunction gives Us an image--very faint, no doubt, yet marvellously beautiful-~of her who is called par excellence 16 January, 1949 SANCTA ECCLESIA CATHOLICA 'mirror of justice,' because she reflects the splendour of her Son who Himself is the candor lucis aeternae et speculum sine macula." (July 7, 1947.) The Saints are so different, yet fundamentally alike--like varia-tions on the same theme. The common theme of all holiness is love of God, total love which implies total self-sacrifice, utter selflessness. The saints were in love with God: they lived in deep union with Him. Yet this union, far from isolating them from the rest of man-kind, filled them with a universal love and urged them on to heroic self-devotion in the service of men. They. were absolutely humble, because they saw the truth: and being bumble, they had absolute trust in God; this is the secret of their amazing daring in undertaking great things, of their invincible courage and tenacity in carrying them out in the face of apparently insuperable obstacles: "Ego tecum ero." Every Saint, to be canonized, must have given clear signs of heroic virtue. But what strikes one in the lives of many saints is that God seems to take delight in testing their heroism by accumulating on them, as .on Job of old, every kind of affliction. In their most unselfish enterprises they meet with ingratitude, opposition, and failures such as would crush an ordinary man; to these are often added very trying diseases and bodily infirmities; and within their souls, instead of finding divine light and consolation, they pass through an agony of darkness, doubt, temptations, and disgust. Among the new saints, this is illustrated most strikingly in the life of, Blessed.Marie-Th6r~se de Soubiran. The Holy Father, in his panegyric of this heroic woman, indicated a twofold purpose of such trials which often leave our natural reason completely bewildered. The first is that the saints by this bitter experience learn "the secret of total detachment; which liberates them from all apprehension and diffidence of the heart, from all pride of spirit, and which shows them the nothingness and instability of all created things, mere playthinga in the hands of the Creator." The second meaning of those crushing afflictions, this "annihilation," is found in the words of St. John (12:24): "Unless the grain of wheat fall into the ground and die. itself remaineth alone;' but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit." That is why God tries His saints "as in a furnace," while giving them a supernatural strength which enables them to walk on heroically in spite of the darkness that fills their souls. [EDITORS' NOTE: The foregoing article is reprinted with permission from The Clergy Moothly, a magazine publishM in India.] 17 Vocal:ions CosE Money Peter M. Miller, S.C.J. RING the bells and shout the "Alleluias." Modern technique is being applied to religious vocations. Religious societies and congregations of both men and women are discovering that the gamble of advertising vocational wares to adventurous boys and girls can be a tremendous success. The increasing problem created by the shrinking personnel of too many religious groups is finding an adequate answer through the medium of modern advertising. This statement: "Each of my candidates for the Brotherhood is costing me $1,000," may leave a bad taste in the mouths of certain religious who affirm their greater concern for souls and a mediocre interest in "filthy lucre." Yet the vocational director who uttered the above statement discovers that be is leading noble young men to the service of Christ and is pleased that the monastery labor will be accomplished without spending thousands of dollars annually for outside labor. "Within six months," he asserts, "each of those Brothers will pay, penny for penny, the initial cost of advertising expended on them." And only the Angel of God will be able to balance the merits of their good works in the GoIden Book. Once I heard a missionary, weighing his pennies, decide to enter hospital work rather than the educational field in his mission, because statistics proved to him that the expended dollar has more value' for the lasting good of souls in that particular locality when it is used to relieve the wants of the sick and distressed. It is a pleasure then to hear of a successful method of spending dollars to relieve the vocational l~roblem confronting so many com-munities. Too long have we been idly waiting for these vocations. St. Augustine remarked that we must pray as if all depended on God (and thanks be to God, many prayers have been offered for voca-tions), but be also insisted that we must work AS IF ALL DEPENDED ON US. Centuries ago the abbot of the monastery was approached by the youth who begged for admission to the order. There are still too many who believe this is the sole method to be used in acquiring vocations. Sometimes these same persons unjustly condemn zealous vocational directors who are going out "into the highways and by- 18 VOCATIONS COST MONEY ways" as Christ did in the first century of the Church when he uttered His soul-stirring: "Follow Me!" Nor are we the only ones engaged in the vocational advertising field. The Army is lavishing thousands of advertising dollars to staff its diminishing post-war personnel. Theirs is. a high-powered technique of radio and slick, magazines, well beyond the reach of our efforts. (Or is it?) Professions, trades, and crafts are advertising the decided advantages of their mode of life to attract the youth. Should we hesitate then to adopt an organized advertising campaign that will relieve our present needs and be a glory to God for all of eternity~ ¯ Four years ago a certain priest of the Middle West was surprised to learn ,of an ordered campaign of advertising to secure vocations. One year later he had entered the field and discovered the happy taste of success. The cost was a pamphlet. A Sister was sold on the proposition, and the only advertising for which she was able to secure permission was a "blurb." Her Mother Superior was highly pleased with the results obtained. I have observed a small religious congregation increase both quality and quantity in their preparatory seminary through an organized advertising plan developed in their own experience. Eight years ago thirty students attended this seminary; this year the enrollment is 135 carefully chosen candidates. I was bi'tterly disappointed three years ago to learn of two girls who thought they would lik~ to be Sisters, but changed their minds when they could not learn enough about the congregation they wished to join. There is a great appeal in religious life, and adver-tising is a marvelous approach to.the boy or girl. It should be the concern of every order, society, and congregation to integrate such a vocational campaign to their program of winning the world for Christ. The answer of complacent satisfaction [n present personnel ~'/ supply is no answer to the tremendous world-wide demands for reli-gious vocations. The challenge of our era is the white harvest of souls. Eight out of every nine persons over the face of the earth stand in dire need of the true message of Catholicism. In our own country there are sixty million pagans, and another fifty-five million who sit in the darkness of error waiting, perhaps unknowingly, for the Light of Truth. Consider, is it worthwhile to sponsor a program whereby America will quickly have the 10,000 priests necessary? How shall we answer the "Call for 40,000" in South America? Should we 19 PETER M. MILLER Reoiew for Religious concern ourselves with the remaining countries of the world? And where shall we find the three or four Sisters that must complement the work of~every priest. Where to get the thousands of religious Brothers needed for building and maintaining? Whatever your answer may be, of this I am sure--modern adver-tising will be recognized as a powerful arm in securing the necessary vocations. But bow, you may ask, can such a campaign be organ-ized ? Fortunately there is a medium of advertising to suit every purse. While no advertiser will tell you that the element, of gamble can be totally eliminated, yet there are certain approved methods which can safely be said to guarantee results. You will admit that the product you are attempting to "sell," a religious vocation, is 100 per cent perfect. Actually only the ones whom Christ selects will be those who finally accept your message. The campaign is a combination of grace and human labor. Now where is the field for your advertising? Carefully consider the aims of your community, and even more carefully aim or direct your cam-paign. Your "sales talk" must be weighed in the balance to garner all possible vocations in your harvest. Netvspap~r Adoertisements In newspapers and magazines, which you have read, undoubtedly you have seen the vocational message of religious groups. Perhaps for years you have observed a particular advertisement in a certain magazine. That should be your first sign of encouragement. If the "ad" had failed to produce.the desired results, the advertiser would have withdrawn his message. Study the advertisement carefully. Adapt it to your message, or perhaps you can better your display. Right here I might say that we should not hesitate to call upon the technical advice of advertising experts. Certainly it is sound business to pay an experienced man for setting up your advertisement copy. You can capitalize on his knowledge of techniques. It is important to consider the type of magazine and newspaper in order that you may discover which readers your advertisement will reach. Perhaps (and I have met this isolated instance), for a reli-gious group of Sisters of one national extraction, the best organ would be a newspaper of the same national language which has a good Catholic circulation, although it might not be a Catholic news-paper. 2O danuarg, 1949 VOCATIONS COST MONEY Blurbs The blurb is a folder of i~our to six pages. It contains the salient features of your aims and vocation ambitions. Again, working under the capable direction of a display artist, you employ photographs and color, together with a good combination of display type styles, to produce a striking folder. It should be the purpose of this blurb to attract .vocationally minded youth to a contact with your com-munity. Usually different blurbs are enclosed in the letters which you send to a person who has answered your newspaper advertise-ment. This blurb could be given to all the eighth grade girls as an attractive leader for a vocational discussion. A boy of adventurous nature still responds to a color photograph of a missionary leaning against his motorcycle. Personal Contact Here is the most important step in the vocational field work. The one interested in following Christ must see a flesh-and-blood example of his or her ideal. This is concretely established in the vocational director. He (or it may be Sister . ) is your walking advertise-ment. Usually the entire vocation campaign is in his hands. Actually he is a traveling salesman "selling" a product of highest dignity. He knows better than anyone else that it is his important task to discover the vocations which God has destined for his community. The choice of vocational director is highly important. Above all, he (or she) must be an exemplary religious. He must be possessed of that electrical personality impulse which establishes friendly trust and confidefi'ce in the first few minutes of meeting. He must know thoroughly what a vocation is, and what a vocation to his com-munity is. He must be quick and accurate to analyze characters and perceive the elements of vocation or their deficiency in an individual. He must know why youth wants to partake in the great adventure. The vocational director must possess prudence and suavity to over-come the obstacles which many times stand in the path of progress to the vocational goal. His first contact with the boy might be in reply to a newspaper or magazine advertisement. He might have met the youth while showing vocational movies or slides to an eighth grade class. What-ever may have been the initial contact, the next and all-important step is to meet the individual in his home surroundings. The family background, the training field for the youth, is still an essential ele- 21 PETER M. MILLER Review for Religious ment to be considered when judg!ng the lasting qualities of a possible vocation. In the personal interview the vocation is taken from a general class and the candidate becomes an important individual whose great interest is conquering the world for Christ. Here the vocational ideals of the youth and the aims of the community are displayed for mutual consideration. This is the first visit at his home, and there may be two or three more before the candidate finds himself admitted into the seminary or convent school. Perhaps the voca-tional director will observe that the youth does not have the elements of vocation for his communit~ and then he does not hesitate to inform the boy or girl accordingly. Here let me stress the importance of instructing the youth in the necessity of prayer for his vocation during this time. Community Magazine or Newspaper Fortun~itely many religious congregations have a magazine. It is highly advantageous that the vocational director use this arm for his work. It should be his concern that timely vocational articles appear in the magazine. A convent school or seminary could initiate a monthly newspaper to be used in the same manner. Using either one or both of these methods of contact, the reli-gious community has a monthly pipeline of appropriate information flowing into the home of the possible candidate. It clears doubts, establishes a firmer desire through added knowledge, and gives the aspirant confidence in his new life by means of the truths be meets monthly. Correspondence The vocational director must be punctual in replying to ~11 let-ters and queries from the candidates. In more than one instance the students in the seminary were supplied with addressees interested in their mutual vocation. By this method the personal contact was stimulated to greater advantage. The candidate then feels that he is no stranger since for some time he continues in friendly correspon-dence. Pamphlets This is perhaps the most popular form of advertising copy in the vocational campaign. Again photographs, color, type styles, and fine paper are combined in attractive display to give the prospect a good view of his future life in a 24-, 32-, or 48-page booklet. This pamphlet may be concerned with a picture study of the different 22 ,]anuaGt, 1949 VOCATIONS COST MONEY stages of growth in his vocation. Or it may present to the youth the future fields of endeavor. Chiefly, these pamphlets are of an informative nature. However I have seen clever pamphlets that employed fictional characters of the ideal type to portray the vocational goal and attract youth. Some communities use a life of the founder of the religious group. And then again you may wish to imitate those who have a continuity of two, three, or four pamphlets in their vocational series. Whatever may be your plan, be certain that the presentation is a perfect approach, which is to say that it must employ the modern techniques of vivid writing and attractive advertising display. If, in true humility, you must admit that no person in your community could 'turn out an attractive copy, then it need only be necessary for you to gather the facts and present them to "a good writer skilled in modern techniques. He usually has a precise knowl-edge of the elements to be brought to the attention of the reader. More invaluable to you, he knows what technical processes can best illustrate the idea you wish to convey. It pays to seek perfection in the very beginning. What merely satisfies you, may not be suffi-ciently impelling to attract the candidate. Movies and Slides Every educator today knows the emphasis, that is attached to visual aids. Advertisers pay huge sums to have likely customers see their product in the glamor of a movie. Certain religious communi-ties have employed technicians to prepare a movie of their vocational attractions. Indeed some of these are in color and forcefully present their subject. Other groups have discovered' that they can establish better con-tacts with colored slides flashed upon the silver screen. Their advan-tage, they claim, is to modify the description to the reaction of the group. This is certainly evident when the slides are carried into the home. As a matter of economy it might be mentioned that the slides can be replaced conveniently with better shots and thus accomodate the rapid growth that characterizes some communities. Planning Your Campaign The above examples were not listed as separate advertising methods. All of them could be co-ordinated in one grand camPaign. Each is designed fo provoke the interest of the candidate. Of course, the alert vocational, director will discover that he can broaden and complement his advertising by using other mediums. He will have 23 PETER M. MILLER occasional outings, picnics, Christmas parties, and so forth, where the candidates may meet and join in social gatherings and fun with seminarians already forging ahead in their chosen vocation. This is a great advantage. Those who wish to present their message to the youth of today will choose some or all of the above methods. It is important that a wide selection be made, and then you must drive home one grand theme in all your mediums of advertising. At the risk of boring repetition let me state again that you can profit by sounding out good technical advice in founding your program. Then prepare to open your market: Vocations Cost Mone~l Your vocational budget should be a matter of deep concern to your community. If you consider only the expenditures, then the advertising campaign has the appearance of a costly move. How-ever, the budget is to be gauged by the results. Advertise, and dis-cover from your own experience why cigarette manufacturers are quite plea~ed to spend millions of dollars to attract their huge mar-kets. You can issue an attractive blurb for a small amount. Pam-phlets are not too costly either. It might be wise to caution the beginner. Limit your initial quantity of literature until you are convinced that your message is appealing and forceful. Then keep the printing presses busy With your project. Do not hesitate to print a message for even those of the seventh grade. Plant the seed early[ Guarantee a rich harvest by telling your community of your vocation work. Beg their prayers and sac-rifices to bring the project to a grace-filled conclusion. Then the Mystical Body of Christ will grow as the religious members lead other thousands into the Church. How much should you spend for your campaign? Tell me, what price did Christ pay for souls? OUR CONTRIBUTORS ' PETER M. MILLER has been active in the vocation field for some years and is now on the faculty of the Divine Heart Seminary, the seminary of the Congregation of the Priests of the Sacred Heart, at Donaldson, Indiana. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. J. PUTZ is editor of The Clergy Monthly and a member of the faculty of St. Mary's Theo-' logical College, Kurseong, D. H. Ry., India. CLARENCE MCAULIFFE is a profes-sor of sacramental theology at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. 24 I apt:ism--A Deat:h and Resurrect:ion Clarence McAuliffe, S.J. ~i MONG all the supernatural gifts showered upon each of us, the first and most fundamental is ordinarily the sacrament of baptism. Since most of us were baptized as infants, we can-not even recall the actual conferring of this gift. We know it from the testimony of our parents or guardians, or of the parish records. But we are certain that there was a day, not long after our birth, when we were borne in our mother's arms to the parish church. Once there we were transferred to the arms of our godfather or godmother. Certain rites were performed over us in the vestibule or rear of the church. We were then carried to the baptismal fo'nt or the Com-munion rail. The essential rite was accomplished when the priest poured water on our head and declared: "I baptize thee in the name of the Father and of "the Son and of the Holy Ghost." We squirmed when the cool water touched our sensitive skin. Outwardly we were unchanged by this sacred rite, but inwardly a profound change was enacted. We were put to death with Christ by dying to the devil and our natural selves, and at the same time we rose gloriously from death like Christ because our souls were spiritually renovated. Yes, it was a simple ceremony, a perfunctory washing of the head and the simultaneous pronouncement of a few words, but it was a ceremony that had th~ S'on of God for its originator, and laden with His merits, it was like an irresistible plea mounting to heaven from the. cross on Calvary. It was not a mere ablution. It was an ablu-tion performed by the dying Christ, the principal Minister of every sacrament. That is why the heart of God was touched when He witnessed our baptism. That is why He took in His hand this simple ceremony and used it as an instrument to work so many wonders in our souls. In the purely natural order, our souls before baptis.m were intact. They possessed the same faculties that Adam had before his fall, and these faculties were intrinsically unimpaired. But no descendant of Adam was ever born in a merely natural state. Humanity down to doomsday was elevated to a supernatural destiny at the very instant 25 CLARENCE MCAULI FFE Review [or Religious that Adam himself was gifted with it. That is why Adam, when be lost the means to attain this destiny, lost them not for himself alone but for all his de]cendants. Hence we say that every human being is born in original sin. Each of us at birth was confronted with a supernatural goal. But each of us, too, was born without the supernatural means to arrive at this goal because these means, our expected and lawful inheritance, had been squandered by our common father, Adam. Our souls, as a result, were at birth supernaturally paralyzed. They could not function towards the attainment of their sublime destiny until the paralysis was removed. It was baptism that cured this paralysis. It took away original sin. However, the expression "took away," though sanctioned by usage, might be misleading. It might incline us to picture original sin as a kind of black spot dis-figuring the soul. We would then imagine baptism as the divine cleanser that effaced this black spot. Such a picture would be incor-rect. In the pilrely natural sphere, our souls were unblemished, unmarred, whole, equipped with all the healthy faculties they deserved. But something was missing, something that should have been there, had Adam executed God's original plan. That some-thing was a golden light of exquisite beauty, a veritable supernatural organism which should have been superadded to arid commingled with our natural faculties. Baptism was the flame that rekindled that golden light and restored that supernatural organism. This is what we mean when we say that baptism '~takes away" original sin. Moreover, this restoratidn of supernatural gifts through baptism is not the restoratibn of mere passive qualities, however excellent these might be. It is a renewal of life, of supernatural life, a true regerleratior~. St. Paul is speaking of baptism when he tells Titus: "He saved us by the laver of regeneration, and renovation of the Holy Spirit" (Titus 3:5). By natural generation a peFson receives body and soul. He possesses a definite nature endowed with both faculties and instincts. He begins to live naturally. Similarly, by the supernatural generation of baptism a person shares iri the divine nature by the gift of sanctifying grace, and this nature also is accom-panied with its supernatural faculties and instincts. The person begins to live supernaturally. This supernatural generation is called a regeneration, a generating again or anew, because man must first be generated naturally before he can be generated supernaturally by baptism. Another reason Why the word "regeneration" is used, pro- 26 BAPTISM--A DEATH AND RESURRECTION ceeds from the fact that, if Adam had not sinned, we would have been endowed with supernatural life by mere natural generation. No baptism would have been necessary. Since, however, Adam lost this supernatural life by his sin, we are supernaturally dead at the moment of our natural conception and so must be generated again supernaturally through baptism. The very instant we were baptized, therefore, this supernatural nature with its accompanying faculties and instincts was restored to us. We were clothed with the kingly robe of sanctifying grace and thus became God's adopted sons, able to perform acts of supernatural merit and destined to the beatific vision as our inheritance. More'over, along with this grace God infused into our souls certain faculties called the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity. Once we reached the age of reason, these, virtues enabled us to elicit super-natural acts corresponding to them. It is probable that by reason of our baptism God also instilled within us additional faculties, the four cardinal, virtues of prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude. Finally, through the agency of baptism God conferred upon us seven supernatural instincts which we call the gifts of the Holy Ghost. They are called wisdom, understanding, knowledge, counsel, piety, fortitude, and fear of the Lord. Given all this we became super-naturally alive, equipped with an organism by which we could oper-ate in a sphere far beyond our natural powers. It is important to realize also that all these baptismal gifts are realities. Nor are they merely moral realities like the loye of a mother for her child. Neither are they simply juridical realities like the right of a human being to continue in life. They are, as a matter of fact, pbgsical realities. This means that they actually modify the soul. They are qualities that add to its beauty. True enough, they are not material, but spiritual qualities. But they have an entity of their own which is as physically real as the color of a block of granite or the light that emanates from a star. They are as physically real as a label on a box. They are so physically real that if they were material things, we could touch them with our hand or see them with our eyes. And yet they do not add anything substantial to our nature. They are accidental qualities inhering in our one substantial soul. This fact, however, should not derogate from either their intrinsic or their operational value. Even in this world the addition of a natural accidental quality can Work wonders in an object. Consider 27 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Reoieu~ for Religious the electric bulb as it rests on the counter of a hardware store. It is substantially intact, a drab object to behold. But buy it, take it home, insert it in an electric socket and turn on the power. At once it is transformed into a thing of beauty and casts its light on all objects within its range. Yet it differs only accidentally from its condition in the hardware store. Consider also the example of water. If it is cold, it has certain accidental properties. When boiled, many of these accidental properties change. It still remains water, but now it can boil eggs or concoct a stew. It has new powers vastly superior to those of cold water, and yet it is but accidentally changed. Similarly, the baptized soul is altered only accidentally by. its reception of supernatural life, but it now is vested with powers far beyond those which it had before baptism. Indeed, it is now elevated to a supernatural plane so that it can place supernatural acts that completely transcend its natural capacities. When a Roman candle explodes in the night air on the Fourth of July it sends forth many fireballs of various hues, all of them pleasing to behold. So does baptism produce a brilliant array of supernatural gifts in the soul. But these unlike the fireballs stay within the soul, not outside it. Moreover, they do not vanish in an instant as do the fireballs, but they remain permanently unless driven out by sinful acts of the baptized person. Nor are they disparate 'elements like the fireballs, but they are intimately connected with one another. Finall~r, they are not endowed with mere chemical energy as are the fireballs, but they are forms of life. Each of them is like an eye or ear; and, when united together in an accidental union with the soul, they form a complete supernatural organism. Moreover, another physical effect, which, however, is not a form of life, is painted on the soul by baptism. It is called the sacramental character. It, too, is an accidental quality, but it is just as physical as the other gifts received. It truly modifies the soul, changes its appearance. It adds a tint to it, and this tint can never be effaced either in this life or the next. It is a sign to God and the angels and the beatified that the baptized person is consecrated to God. It is an indelible mark proclaiming to them that the baptized person belongs to the army of Christ. It is upon this ontological character that the various rights and duties flowing from baptism are based. It may be worth our while to recall now the nature of these rights and duties. First of all, the character is a sign that the baptized person has an obligation to remain always in the state of grace. This is his prime 28 danuar~t, 1949 BAPTISM--A DEATH AND RESURRECTION duty. If he loses his supernatural life by mortal sin, the character is forever declaring that he is in a state of violence, of infidelity, that he is obligated to take effective measures to restore by repentance the supernatural organism of grace, the virtues, and gifts of the Holy Ghost. If a soldier deserts the army, his uniform still notifies the world that he belongs in its ranks. In the same way, the character of baptism always marks a man as an adopted child of God even though he may have rejected this adoption by mortal sin. Moreover, the character as we have remarked, is ineffaceable. The faithless soldier can take off his uniform, burn it or sell it so that no physical sign remains to indicate that he should be in the army. But the character cannot be rejected. It is always etched on the soul, and its possessor is forever marked as one who should be Christ's friend even though be has sinned grievously. In short, baptism means a change in our allegiance. Before bap-tism we were children of darkness, not of light; we were enthralled by a powerful concupiscence whose thrusts would become more har-rowing in later life. We were, in a true sense, slaves of the devil. But we changed banners when baptism sealed us with its sacred character. We were baptized "in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost." We were, therefore, consecrated to the Blessed Trinity. Through the agency of our godparents we promised sol-emnly to fulfill the obligations consequent upon the reception of bap-tism. We would observe the ten commandments ~nd the six precepts of the Church, and we would do so permanently. By their miracu-lous passage through the Red Sea, the Hebrews escaped from their Egyptian enemies and passed into God's domain, the promised land. In the same way, by baptism we renounce the devil's dominion and come under God's sway. In the last chapter of St. Matthew's gospel (Mt. 28: 19, 20) when our Lord solemnly promulgates the necessity of baptism, He inculcates the obligation to serve God that it entails: "teaching them [the baptized] to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you." And St. Paul means the same thing when he declares: "All of you who are baptized, have put on Christ" (Gal. 3:27). In the fourth century St. John Chrysostom makes the same point when he says: "Trees that are well planted, if they make no return of fruit for the labor spent about them, are delivered up to the fire; the same in some sort may be said of those who are baptized, if they bring forth no fruit." This death to Satan and to sin, which was enjoined upon us by 29 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Review for Religious our baptism, is symbolized by the very rite of baptism, especially. when it i~ performed by immersion or complete submerging into a body of water, the ordinary m.aj~ler of baptizing during many cen-turies of the Church's existen~e.¥ The catechumen goes down into the water soiled with original sin, a slave to concupiscence, subservient to Satan. He emerges cleansed from original sin, fortified against concupiscence, consecrated irrevocably to the Blessed Trinity. This total immersion in the water pictures vividly the death and resurrec-tion of Chris[. That is why St. Paul says that "we are buried together with Christ by baptism unto death, that as Christ is risen from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we also may walk in newness of life" (Rom. 6:4). Christ died for sin; He was buried because of our sins. But when He rose, gloriously changed in body. He had endowed us with the means to overcome sin, to live as God's friends, dust as our Lord's body by its resurrection began its glori-fied life tha~. would never end, so the baptized when he emerges from his burial in the baptismal water, is obligated perpetually to live a new kind of life, a life subject to God and loyal.to His commands. The abiding sign of this allegiance is the sacramental character. But to lead this new life of loyalty to God we need supernatural helps, especially actual graces, by which we can practise virtue and counter temptations. Though we obtain these graces in various ways as we go on through life, we are assured, b/y our baptism alone of a constant flow of them to give us strength.'VAll theologians admit this fact, though they differ in their explanations of how these graces are conferred by baptism. It is a safe opinion to hold that the right to these graces is rooted in the baptismal character. This objective mark is always on the soul and is always telling God: "This person has been consecrated to You. He needs Your help. You have given him a right to receive Your intellectual lights and to feel the lift of Your omnipotent hand. By his baptismal character he is marked as Your ally and friend, but he cannot remain so unless You help him." Thus God by reason of our baptismal character does help us, not for one day or for one year, but during our entire lives. Even in old age, the baptized person still receives from his infant baptism actual graces to resist temptation and to live a good Catholic life. The waters of these graces may be dammed partially by neglect, by worldliness, by sin itself, but they overflow even such formidable barriers. The torrent of graces to which we are entitled just by the fact of our bap-tism will never be completely dry. They come to enrich our youth; 3O danuar~t, 1949 BAPTISM--A DEATH AND RESURRECTION they come to fortify and strengthen us in middle age; they come to embellish and sanctify our old age. God never forgets our baptism. He always sees the character He has impressed. Hence He helps us so that our dedication to Him made at baptism will never become a faithless one. Again, baptism signifies not only that its recipient is consecrated to God and should preserve permanently his supernatural life, but also that he is a member of God's visible kingdom on earth, the Catholic Church. Once baptism is validly received, no matter by whom, that person automatically is a subject in Christ's Church. Some, of course, such as validly baptize, d Protest~ints who are in good faith, are not aware of this fact, but their unawareness does not change the reality. Baptism means membership in the one true Church. "For in one Spirit were we all baptized into one body," declares St. Paul (I Cot. 12:12). The character is the irremovable sign of this membership. When a Sister receives that particular habit which comes with her profession, this habit tells the world that she is obliged to follow the internal spirit of her institute, but it also marks her as a member of a visible religious order or congregation. She belongs to this definite sisterhood and not to any other, and the fact is externally recognizable from the kind of religious garb she wears. "Once a Catholic, always a Catholic" is an axiom whose truth rests on the fact that the character spontaneously issuing from baptism remains imbedded in the soul and postulates perpetual allegiance to the Catholic Church. It follows, therefore, that the baptismal character is the founda-tion for those duties and rights that flow from incorporation into the Catholic body. Among these duties we might mention that of obedience to ecclesiastical superiors, especially to the Holy Father and the bishops; the duty to reverence sacred persons, places, edifices, rites, and other things stamped'with the approval of the Church; the'duty to accept the revealed teaching which she proposes; the duty to con. form to her legislation as embodied .in the code of Canon Law; the duty to participate in at least some of the religious rites which she sanctions. All these duties have as their objective foundation the sacrament~i1 character carved on the soul by baptism. The Church also grants many privileges to her actual members, that is, to the baptized who are not "separated from the unity of the Body." Such members may receive the other sacraments; they may participate intimately in the sublime action, of the Mass by interiorly 31 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE Reoiew [or Religious uniting their offering to the external offering made by the priest alone; they may share in many kinds of indulgences to remove their temporal punishment and to shorten the stay in purgatory of others, especially their loved ones; they are entitled to the help and guidance of their pastors, whether in the confessional or outside it. They have a right to enter a Catholic church at any time; to have their spiritual lives stimulated by sermons, retreats, and the use of sacramental~; to receive benefits from every Mass celebrated in the world every day; to obtain special blessings from the many "Masses for the people" which every pastor must celebrate each year; to be honored with a Catholic funeral service and burial in consecrated ground. In a word, those many upliftings of soul' which come to every loyal Catholic, those consolations that give strength to bear the sorrows of life, that illumination of mind which comes from authoritative teaching and from Catholic books or newspapers or periodicals and from spiritual exhortations, that firmness of will which perseveres in doing good and avoiding evil--all this comes directly or indirectly from membership in the Church and is founded on the ontological character bestowed by baptism. To sum up, therefore, we may say that baptism effects marvels in the physical, the moral, and the juridical orders. In the physical order it regenerates a man by endowing him with a supernatural organism consisting of sanctifying grace, the infused theological and moral virtues, and the seven gifts of the Holy Ghost. In the moral order, it transfers his allegiance from Satan to the Blessed Trinity, removes all actual sins, both mortal and venial, as well as all temporal punishment due to these sins (if baptism is received by an adult), confers a life-long series of actual graces enabling him to cope with his unruly passions, and, finally, inscribes him as a member of the Catholic Church. In the juridical order, it grants him those rights that emanate from affiliation with that Church, but it also imposes on him a set of obligations to which he is bound to conform. " It is a striking fact that these effects are symbolized in a general way by the various ceremonies of baptism. The essential rite, of course, and the only rite instituted by our Lord Himself and neces-sary for the validity of the sacrament, is the washing (of the head) with water and the pronouncing of the proper words. Water is a cooling and refreshing substance. Hence at baptism it naturally sym-bolizes the mitigation of passion that results from the sacrament. Moreover, water is a universal cleanser. As such it is admirably 32 danuar[I, 1949 BAPTISM-~A DEATH AND RESURRECTION suited to represent the removal of sin and temporal punishment from the soul. Again, flowing water is vested with power. It produces a thriving vegetationalong its course. Hence the flowing water of baptism readily illustrates the spiritual regeneration effected in the soul. Especially is this true when the meaning of the flowing water is determined by words that signify a consecration to the Blessed Trin-ity. Again, every society has some form of initiation. Baptism is God's own way of initiating a person into the Catholic ChurScho. much for the symbolism of the essential, divinely instituted rite. But the Church herself has added other ceremonies that likewise typify the results of baptism. Before the infant is permitted to enter the nave of the church, the priest breathes lightly three times upon its face to suggest that the Holy Ghost is about to come upon it to effect its supernatural regeneration. After this, the priest makes the sign of the cross on the baby's forehead and breast to signify tha~ after baptism the baby will be a follower of Christ, not a follower of Satan. St. Augustine makes mention of t-his rite when he says: "You are to be signed this day on your forehead with the sign of the cross, that hereafter the devil may be afraid to touch you, as being marked with this saving sign." Next a morsel of salt is placed on the infant's tongue to signify that after baptism. God will expect and help.this child to preserve and season its mind and heart so that it will never be corrupted by serious sin. On two separate occasions the priest lays his hand on the baby's head to denote that henceforth the child will be consecrated to God. After proceeding to the baptismal font or the Communion rail, the priest touches the lips and ears of the baby with saliva. As far back as the fourth century, St. Ambrose teaches the meaning of this ceremony: "Therefore the priest toucheth thy ears that they may be opened to hear the commands of God: and thy nostrils that thou receivest the good odor of faith and devotion." This rite recalls how our Lord opened the eyes of a blind man with spittle (3ohn 9:6) and put His finger into the ears of a deaf man saying "Ephphatha, i.e., be thou opened" (Mark 7:33). After renouncing Satan three times through the agency of its sponsor, the infant is anointed on the breast and between the shoulders with the oil of catechumens. Oil naturally symbolizes strength. It is used to eliminate aches and pains and to render muscles supple. Hence the anointing on the breast represents the courage to be expected from the infant in its .fight for God. The anointing between the shoulders indicates the strength 33 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE imparted to the baptized to bear manfully the crosses of life. After the essential rite of baptism has been performed, the priest anoints the child with chrism on the top of the head. Just as in the Old Testament it was a custom to anoint priests and kings with oil; and just as it is the Church's custom today to anoint those objects and persons which she solemnly consecrates to God's service, so this ceremony denotes that the baptized baby is now irrevocably conse-crated to God and is a member of His Church. A white cloth is then placed on the head of the baptized to typify the innocence that has been wrought by baptism. Finally, a lighted candle is held by the sponsor to symbolize the same effect, but in addition, the candle sig-nifies that the baby has received a new form of life. A candle flame is not static. It flickers and its flickering is the sign of the baby's newly received supernatural life. It is a fragile flame, one that is easiIy extinguished in the later conflicts of life; but if the baby uses the means that God has provided, it can and should keep that flame forever burning. Such are the effects of baptism according to the teachings of the Church and according to the symbolism of the baptismal rites. God HimseIf is the principal cause of all the wonders accomplished by baptism. But God in His providence decided not to produce these wonders without a visible rite. He desired.that man, confo.rmably with his nature, should have some outward sign to testify to the a~bievement of these wonders. Hence through the agency of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity become Man, He instituted the visible sacrament of baptism. Whenever this sacrament is adminis-tered, God takes it in His hand and uses it as an instrument to beget a new supernatural organism, to paint a sacramental character, to confer sundry supernatural favors and to impose obligations. A REPRINT SERIESmMAYBE! Because of dil~culties which have not yet been overcome, we are unable to say whether we wilI publish the series of reprints men-tioned in our November issue (VII, 331-332). However, a definite announcement will be made in the March issue. Tentative orders are still welcome. 34 ,/ The Spirit: ot: Povert:y Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. IN RECENT ISSUES of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Father Ellis: has explained the obligati6ns of poverty that arise f~om the vo~ and from law, whether the latter is of the Church or of the par.-. ticular institute. The necessity and value of such an explanation are evident. However, as Father Ellis indicated, the spirit of poverty is of even greater importance. This follows from the admitted doctrine of moral theology that the vow and laws concerning poverty are only means of acquiring the spirit of poverty and thus subordinated to the latter as a means to an end. A brief study of the purpose of the vows of religion may clarify this importance. Christian perfection, the end of the religious life, consists in divine charity. St. Thomas places the purpose of the evangelical counsels in the religious life in the fact that they remove the principal impediments to 'divine charity. He' specifies the purpose of poverty as the. removal of all attachment for temporal things. Attachment is obviously something interior, the vow and the laws on poverty extend only to external actions. It is the spirit of poverty that is to regulate the affections. It is pos-sible to observe the vow, to secure permission, and yet to be greatly attached to the things permitted. A religious, therefore, can be faith-ful to the observance of the vow and yet fail to attain the proximate purpose of poverty. This purpose cannot be accomplished without the practice of the spirit of poverty. It may appear strange to assert that the vow ofpoverty is insuffi-cient to attain the purpose of poverty in the religious life, yet this insufficiency is evident in many other respects. In complete accord with the vow of poverty, religious could be given permission to administer their own property, to apply their pfopertyto personal needs, to have a dependent peculium (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Jan-uary, 1948, p. 33), and they also could be granted any kind, quantity, or quality of material things for their own use. Such practices would not remove the waste of time, the preo.ccupation and anxiety about temporal things, the love of riches and pride that St. Thomas lists as the specific impediments to divine charity that are to be excluded by poverty. All of the above practices had to be removed by ecclesiastical law. In a similar manner, the vow cannot 35 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Ret~iew for Religious attain the purpose of religious poverty unless it is complemented by the spirit of poverty. A striving for the spirit of poverty, and especially for its perfec-tion, is also a natural manifestation of the genuine and basic religious spirit. The religious life is of counsel, and it by no means loses this character by the fact that the evangelical counsels are assumed under the obligation of sin. The religious who is faithful to the observance of what his vows command has done much, but he has not done everything. The vows of religion leave many things within the domain of counsel, supererogation, and generosity. This statement is not difficult to prove. In the practice of the Holy See for lay congre-gations, the vow bf obedience produces its obligation only when the religious is strictly commanded in virtue of holy obedience, and for a serious reason. It is further urged that such a command be given in writing or in the presence of at least two witnesses. It is evident that the religious who waits'for the obligation of the vow of obedience will have very little obedience in his life. To realize the sacrifice and purpose of his principal vow, the religious must strive after the per-fection of obedience, which is a matter of counsel and supererogation. In the same religious institutes, the constitutions do not of themselves oblige immediately under sin. This does not mean that the Holy See is indifferent to the observance of the constitutions. The principle of the Sacred Congregation in approving such constitutions is that an obligation immediately under sin is not necessary in a life inspired and dominated by the spirit of the counsels. It would be thus alien to this basic spirit of religion to be content with the vow and to neglect the spirit of poverty, even though the higher degrees of the latter do not oblige under sin. The object of the spirit of poverty is to remove all inordinate affections for material things and to use these only in conformity with the legitimate usage of the particular institute. The latter is com-monly included as part of the spirit of poverty, even though it is commanded by ecclesiastical law. We have used the expression spirit of po~ert~l, because a purely abstract dispute exists among theo-logians as to the existence of a special virtue of povert{j. The better opinion, originated by Suarez but implicit in the doctrine of St. Thomas, is that no such special virtue exists. The object of a vir-tue: must be a moral good in itself. Poverty is not a moral good in itself but something indifferent; .if this were not true, riches would be a moral evil in themselves. The Holy See has used both expressions 36 danuary, 1949 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTYi in its official documents and consistently admits the chapter heading, "The Vow and Virtue of Poverty," in the approval of constitutions. This theological dispute can be an obstacle to the perfection of pov-erty to the unguarded reader, since the conclusion can be readily drawn that the spirit or virtue of poverty is simply non-existent. The followers of Suarez merely deny the existence of one special virtue of poverty; they readily admit and assert the existence of a spirit or virtue of poverty which consists of a plurality of virtues. The spirit of poverty is thus a collection of virtues, especially temperance, patie.nce, humility, and the modesty that St. Thomas defines as a vir-tue that moderates the use of external apparel. Some authors extend the object of this modesty to the use of all material things. Observ-ance of the spirit of poverty will procure the merit of one of these virtues: violations will be sins against the same virtues. However, in its higher degrees, the spirit of poverty is a matter of counsel. The spirit of poverty complements principally the vow and the state of poverty. The Spirit of Povertg and the Vow of Povertg Poverty is opposed to riches, and the evident purpose of the vow of poverty is to make the religious, in some sense, a poor man. The extent to which this is effected by the vow is: (a) the religious must obtain permission for the disposition of money or its equivalent; (b) this permission can be revoked at any time at the mere will of the superior; (c) the permission does not give proprietorship. We can add that, in conformity with the vow, the religious may be granted the use of many valuable objects. Furthermore, the incapacity of a solemnly professed religious to acquire or retain property for him-self is not an effect of the vow but of ecclesiastical law. Therefore, the vow does not effect a poverty of external privation. It aims essentially at a poverty by which a religious is to acquire, possess, and use nothing as his own. He is to dispose of material things not as belonging to himself but as to another. In the actual disposition of money or its equivalent for personal use, the comparison, used by Billuart, of religious to slaves, who have no property rights but use food and clothing as belonging to their masters, is to be true also of all professed of simple vows. The vow does not induce the privation of beggary but it does make the religious a beggar; he must ask and depend on another for all his needs. Externally the vow renders the indigence of tl~e religious greater than that of the beggar. The beggar 37 JOSEP.H F. GALLEN Reoiew [or Religious owns the alms he receives; the religious does not own any of the material things be is granted by a superior. The plea of the beggar can frequently, mask a heart of wealth. In his words he is asking, but in his heart he is dem, anding his own. The vow forces the reli-gious to be externally dependent, but it does not despoil his mind and heart of wealth. "The mere asking of a permission does not neces-sarily exclude a proprietary mind and will in the request and espe-cially in the ensuing retention and use of the object granted by the superior. A religious can ask permission in a spirit of dependence or as a mere legal formality. He.can consider himself the owner of what be asks and look upon the superior as the mere custodian of his own property, who must grant what he asks. He can very readily believe that religious poverty consists in the mere external asking for permis-sion. The essential poverty of the vow cannot be attained unless the religious is animated by the habitual interior attithde that everything he acquires, retains, and uses belongs to another and that be retains and uses them as belonging to another. This interior attitude apper-tains to the spirit of poverty, since the. vow is limited to external actions. The interior spirit of ownership frequently detracts from the per-fection of religious poverty. It will be sufficient to adduce one common example. "I should have it because it was given to me," is a principl.e of conduct not unknown to the heart of the religious. This produces what we may style the "rebate" system. A religious of simple vows receives an absolute and personal gift of five do,liars. Mbtivated by the fact that it was given to him, he will very fre-quently ask to use the five dollars or at least part of it. There is a deadly disjunction against this practice. The purpose for which he wishes to spend the money is either legitimate or illegitimate. If illegitimate, the superior may not give the permission, despite the fact that he received the gift. If legitimate, the fact of the gift is no motive for the religious to ask for the permission nor for the superior to give the permission: Th~ only licit motive in such a case is what the religious needs, not what be has received. The relation to per-mission in religion is to our necessities, not to our income. Such a religious observes the vow, since he asks for permission, but he is qualifying his poverty by mental proprietorship. His norm for asking permission is not what he religiously needs but what he ha~ financially received. The religious who has despoiled his mind and heart of proprietorship will turn over absolutely to the superior the 38 danuar~ . 1949 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTY absolute gift made to him. When the memory of this gift has grown cold, he will present his petition to the superior and allow it to stand or fall on its own merits. This habitual interior attitude is the primary requisite in the spirit of poverty. It is clearly demanded by the essential purpose of the vow and it is of great and universal efficacy in excluding dis-ordered attachments for material things. The religious who has fundamentally put off self in mind and will in regard to material things is not apt to yield to the selfishness of a disordered affection for such an object. The same habit is of equal efficacy in animating the observance of the vow. The religious who is habitually poor interiorly will not often seek riches in his external actions. This fundamental habit also excludes a great obstacle to perfect religious poverty, that is, externalism, formalism, and legalism with regard to the precepts and counsels of religious poverty. The religious who is habitually poor in heart has already strengthened the poverty that spiritual writers call the wall of religion, and he will not easily descend to the legalistic approach that seeks the crevices of "no obli-gation" in the vow and the laws of the Church on poverty. The removal of irregular attachments for material things is the proper object of the spirit of poverty. A religious should evaluate such things only according to their reasonable necessity for his life and work. Any motive or state of will contrary to this is a viola-tion of the spirit of poverty. It is evident that such an attachment can be verified also in the observance of the vow and the state of pov-erty. The external observance of the vow and of the law of the Church does not of itself completely purify the will. Ascetical writers give means for overcoming these attachments. Oftentimes, however, they fail to mention that a great source of the attachments is an ignorance of the purpose of religious poverty and the implicit persuasion of the sufficiency of the vow. A knowledge of this pur-pose and the conviction that the vow of poverty must be comple-mented by the spirit of poverty are efficacious and practical means for avoiding and conquering the attachments. While the spirit of poverty is principally a complement and exaltation 6f the vow, it is also a vivifying source of the observance of the vow. The religious who does not ask permission because of carelessness or fear of refusal, who is habitually loath to ask permis-sion fiecause of the inconvenience and the humiliation, or who asks permission only because he is forced by the vow and would other- 39 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review [or Religious wise sin will very frequently find that his difficulty is an ignorance or lowered esteem of the spirit of poverty. He is conceiving poverty as something that is forced from him and not as his own free gift to God. Poverty has become a merely disciplinary and external matter and has lost its soul and beauty as one of the three essential means that are to unite his mind and will with God in a more perfect love, By considering poverty as something merely external, be can readily have grown into the habit of studying how to gratify and not bow to overcome his affections towards material things, of escaping and not of accept~,ng and seeking poverty. His need is not greater fidelity in asking permission but greater motivation for asking permission. The Spirit of Poverty and the State of Poverty Father Ellis defined the state of poverty: "Each institute has its own norm of poverty, that is, a limit as to the kind, quality, and quantity of material things permitted to the religious for their use. This limit is found determined in the constitutions or, as is more commonly the case in congregations with simple vows, in traditions, customs, and usage." (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1948. p. 207). This limit admits of reasonable differences for such pur-poses as health or work. The expression, "state of poverty," is not too frequently found in modern usage. We have adopted it as con-venient and because it is the term used in this matter by the Council of Trent and by Clement VIII. There can be some lack of knowledge of the importance of the state of poverty in the religious, life. The persuasion that the vow is the one source of obligation has led many to believe that religious poverty is solely a poverty of dependence. It is true that the effect of the vow is a poverty of dependence, but the state of poverty is to produce at least some measure of external privation. This privation consists in the .exclusion of superfluities. The norm for distinguishing superfluities from necessities is that described in the definition given above. It is evident that the use of superfluities, without permission, is an independent proprietary act and, at least as such, a sin against the vow: but the source of the obligation of avoiding superfluities, even though a superior has granted permission, has been a matter of dis-pute for centuries. The Code of Canon Law seems to give an easy solution to tbi, s problem. Canon 5.94, §3 reaffirms a law of the Council of Trent. This law had again been emphasized by Clement 40 January, 1949 THE SPIRIT OF POVERTY. VIII, in 1599.~'The Vatican translation of canon 594, §3 is: "The furniture of the religious must be in accordance with the poverty 6f which they make profession." By "furniture" is meant all things given to supply the personal necessities of religious, as is clear from the description of Clement VIII. We are to take the words of this canon in their obvious sense, that is, they constitute a law and not a determination of the vow of poverty. The words of canon 594, §3, as also those of the Council of Trent and of Clement VIII, are clearly preceptive and directly oblige all religious, superiors and sub-jects. The laws of the Code are moral laws, not merely penal laws, and thus oblige immediately under sin. Therefore, the use of super-fluities, with permission, is a sin against this law. The permission of a superior does not exclude this malice, since lay superiors cannot dispense from the laws of the Church and clerical superiors have been granted no power of dispensing from this law. The importance of the spirit of poverty as inclusive of the state of poverty should be evident. The state of poverty complemen~ts the vow by adding at least some external privation to the dependence of the vow. It also refutes the maxim that permission makes anything licit in religious poverty. Within its essential degree, the state of poverty obliges immediately under sin. This essential degree is to acquire, retain, and use only what is necessary within the limit described in the definition of Father Ellis. The degrees of perfection and counsel are to seek or actually to suffer at times the privation of real necessities and to desire and to be satisfied with what is least in the community in food, clothing, lodging, and other personal neces-sities. The state of poverty is an essential part of the concept and law of common llfe, as prescribed for religious by canon 594. It is, per-haps, the fundamental note of this concept, since the other violations of common life, the habitual obtaining of necessities from externs and a dependent peculium, very frequently have their source in an unwillingness to observe the state of poverty. The Church is not unaware of abuses in common life and insists most emphatically on its observance in the Code of Canon Law. Canon 587, §2 enacts that common life must be perfectly observed in clerical houses of study; otherwise the students may not be promoted to orders. Canon 2389 Makes notable violations of common life an ecclesiastical crime, punishable with canonical penalties. The Sacred Congregation of Religious also inquires about the observance of common life in the 41 dOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoiew ~or Retigio~s quinquennial report that pontifical institutes must mdke to the H61y See. The history also of canon 594 reveals the great value that the Church places on common life and all of its parts. The religious who is sincerely desirous of perfect religious poverty will foster an equal evaluation. It seems idle to give specific examples of violations of the state of poverty. Any religious should know the limit of the definition given above from his study of his own institute and readily realize when he is exceeding that limit. It will not be impractical, however, to mention a rather general source of superfluities in r.eligion, and that is the addiction to gifts for personal use. Very frequently religious receive gifts, especially at such times as Christmas, feast days, and birthdays. A well-informed spectator might be tempted to bid on many of these gifts as irreligious surplus material. The cause is fre-quently in the religious himself. He has been asked what he wants, and all too often he mentions something for himself. His reaction to the,,proposed gift should have been: I can and should obtain from my community any legitimate necessity; therefore, I want nothing for myself from this extern. He should then propose a gift that wil! be useful to his community. The most practical gift for his com-munity or institute is money. We may find an occasional religious who is not living a poor life, but it will be most difficult to discover a religious institute that is not poor. At times it will not be prudent to propose' money, but such a proposal could be made with much greater frequency if the religious had constantly manifested in the past that his satisfaction and pleasure were in gifts made to his community. This attitude towards gifts is a natural consequence of common life. If we are constantly to recei;ce from the common fund, we should be willing to contribute to that fund. The absence of this attitude often implies a lack of religious maturity. It is the part of the child to receive but of the adult to give. The spirit of poverty, in all its applications, also admits a hier-archy of motive. For example, a religious, can observe the state of poverty and endure the privations of common life with mere resigna-tion, with alacrity and joy, with eager desire. He can observe the precepts and counsels of poverty from a motive of contempt of the things 6f this world, desire of eternal riches, or mortification to resemble Christ, Our Lord, from love of God and the desire of con-secrating all his affections to God's love and service. St. Bernard tells us that it is not poverty but the love of poverty 42 January, 1949 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS that is reputed virtue. It is not mere external observance of vow and law but dedication to the spirit of poverty that detaches the heart of the religious from the material goods of this world, that fulfills the purpose of religious poverty and effects the earthly, poverty that is productive of eternal riches. ( uesFons nnd Answers In a congregation professlncj a strlct decjree of poverty the followlncj custom is takin9 root. On the occasion of silver jubilees a wide variety of expensive cjiffs are received by the jubilarlan from friends and relatives. Silverware, hand missals, books, desk sets, wearln9 apparel, money for vacation trips and Mass stipends are common forms of jubilee cjiffs. May such a custom be allowed to develop without serious preiudlce ~'o the spirit of poverty and comr~unlty life? The toleration of personal gifts means in most institutes a pro-gressive relaxation of the spirit of poverty. The inquirer will read with profit the articles on Gifts to Religious (cf. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS, VI and VII). The conscientious superior, in granting per-mission for any of the above-mentioned articles, will be guided by his own constitutions and canon 594, § 1, calling for uniformity of diet, dress, and: furnishings. It is diFicult to see bow a religious may be allowed to keep a set of silverware without detriment to common life. Hand missals are appropriate gifts; other books should be put at the disposal of the community when the jubilarian has finished with them. Generally speaking, books are acceptable as gifts because of their special community value. Desk sets, if permitted by custom, may be given to the jubilarian. But here too the superior must have in mind a certain uniformity of room equipment that is not to be violated by the use of a highly elaborate desk set. Wearing apparel should likewise be uniform and provided by superiors. Our last issue treated the question of money for vacation trips. Gifts for this purpose can give rise to very unfavorable comparisons in a reli-gious community. If a jubilarian wishes to devote some of the money received to the purpose of having Mass said for his intentions, there appear~ to be no reason why the superior may not grant this request. 43. Qu. ESTIONS AND ANSWERS Re~,~ew /:or Religious (Cf. REVIEW FUR RELIGIOUS, V, 335.) A sum' of money to be freely spent according to the wishes of the jubilarian could not be used without the approval of the superior, who must decide whether or not the individual objects to be bought are in keeping with common life. The questions here presented lead us to suggest that from the beginning of the religious life one should acquaint his relatives and friends with the idea of common life, which means uniformity in the use of material things. While a community may depend ~n bene-factors for help in many ways, the individual religious may nor enlist the economic aid of his relatives to defray his personal expenses. Even the shrinkage of convent income is no justification for. the gradual decay of the spirit of poverty. May a rellg~ous who has charge o{ an extra-currlcular activity in a school keep in his own room funds devoted fo fhls actMty? The ordinary rule, according to canon 594, § 2, is that such funds should be deposited with the bursar. Special circumstances would justify the superior's granting permission to keep the funds under lock and~key in a private room. May the celebrant of the Sunday community Mass give the Asperges? Authentic declarations of the Sacred Congregation of Rites tell us that the Asperges is to be given to the people before sung Masses on Sunday in collegiate churches. By a collegiate church is meant one in which a chapter of canons daily chant the Divine Office, just as is done in a cathedral. In our own country there are no such chapters. The Asperges rna~! be given in other churches. In many churches it is the custom to have the Asperges before the parochial Mass if it is sung; if it is a low Mass, no custom prescribes it. Concerning the Asperges before the Sunday Mass in a religious community, the cus-tom of the diocese 'should be followed. May a Superior, without violating his rule, give an occasional alms to a beggar? Canoh 537 permits almsgiving on the part of religious for a just cause according to the constitutions. Hence an occasional act of charity towards a mendicant would be permitted by any institute. 44 danuary, 1949 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS A novice completes his novitiate on the 10th of Aucjust. In orde¢ to make his first profession with other novices who are due on the 15th of Aucjust, he is asked to wait until that date. Does the five-day interval in any way affect the validity of his profession? The novice's first profession is certainly valid. Canon 571, § 2 states tbat'a novice who is judged fit is to be admitted to the profe's-sion on the expiration of the novitiate, (exacto novitiatu). Nothing\ in the canon indicates that the delay of a few days in such circum-stances as those pointed out above would nullify the profession. Ac-cording to canon 1 l, the express statement of the nullifyir;g character of a law must be made if it is to have this effect. No such statement is made in canon 571, § 2. Is an extern, who has been chosen by a novice accordln9 to canon 569, § I as administrator of his property durin9 the time of his simple pro-fession, obliged to make to superiors a periodic account of the disposition of the revenue arlsin9 from the religious' estate? Since the Code makes no statement prescribing such a periodic report, there is no obligation to do so unless it is required by the approved constitutions of the institute. m7~ Are all Catholics excused from the obllcjafion of Sunday Mass once they have attempted marriage before a Protestant minister or have attempted to remarry after havin9 obtained a civil divorce? The questioner apparently is concerned about a statement that appeared in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VI, 215. The article treated certain aspects of the duty of hearing Mass, and it mentioned that there is a difference of opinion among theologians and canonists con-cer, ning the obligation of excommunicated persons. Having indicated this difference of opinion, the article states: "By reason of their excommunication they are deprived of their right to assist at Mass; hence some moralists argue that they cannot have a duty to do so. In practice, they may be considered as excused from the obligation; but they certainly have a duty to do what is necessary to be absolved from the excommunication." The answer to the present question, therefore, comes to this: if the parties are excommunicated, they do not have the duty of attending Mass, but they do have a duty of taking the means neces- 45 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE Review for Religious sary to be absolved of their excommunication; if they are not excom-municated, they have tile duty of assisting at Mass. Are all the parties mentioned in this question excommunicated? It would be impossible for us to give a general answer to the question because for the actual incurring of an excommunication many condi-tions must be fulfilled. The best way to solve a particular case is to refer all the facts to a canonist and let him judge the conditions. Decisions o[ Holy

Speeches Delivered In Other Languages. ; United Nations S/PV.8182 Security Council Seventy-third year 8182nd meeting Wednesday, 14 February 2018, 3 p.m. New York Provisional President: Mr. Alotaibi. . (Kuwait) Members: Bolivia (Plurinational State of). . Mr. Inchauste Jordán China. . Mr. Zhang Dianbin Côte d'Ivoire. . Mr. Tanoh-Boutchoue Equatorial Guinea. . Mr. Ndong Mba Ethiopia. . Ms. Guadey France. . Mrs. Gueguen Kazakhstan. . Mr. Umarov Netherlands. . Mrs. Gregoire Van Haaren Peru. . Mr. Meza-Cuadra Poland. . Ms. Wronecka Russian Federation. . Mr. Polyanskiy Sweden . Mr. Skoog United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland . Mr. Clay United States of America. . Ms. Tachco Agenda The situation in Guinea-Bissau Report of the Secretary-General on developments in Guinea-Bissau and the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (S/2018/110) This record contains the text of speeches delivered in English and of the translation of speeches delivered in other languages. The final text will be printed in the Official Records of the Security Council. Corrections should be submitted to the original languages only. They should be incorporated in a copy of the record and sent under the signature of a member of the delegation concerned to the Chief of the Verbatim Reporting Service, room U-0506 (verbatimrecords@un.org). Corrected records will be reissued electronically on the Official Document System of the United Nations (http://documents.un.org). 18-04195 (E) *1804195* S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 2/20 18-04195 The meeting was called to order at 3.10 p.m. Adoption of the agenda The agenda was adopted. The situation in Guinea-Bissau Report of the Secretary-General on developments in Guinea-Bissau and the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (S/2018/110) The President (spoke in Arabic): In accordance with rule 37 of the Council's provisional rules of procedure, I invite the representatives of Guinea-Bissau and Togo to participate in this meeting. In accordance with rule 39 of the Council's provisional rules of procedure, I invite the following briefers to participate in the meeting: Mr. Modibo Touré, Special Representative of the Secretary-General and Head of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau, and His Excellency Mr. Mauro Vieira, Permanent Representative of Brazil to the United Nations, in his capacity as Chair of the Guinea- Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission. Mr. Touré is joining the meeting via video-teleconference from Bissau. The Security Council will now begin its consideration of the item on its agenda. I wish to draw the attention of Council members to document S/2018/110, which contains the report of the Secretary-General on developments in Guinea-Bissau and the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau. I now give the floor to Mr. Touré. Mr. Touré: I thank the Security Council for this opportunity to introduce the report of the Secretary- General (S/2018/110) on the situation in Guinea-Bissau and the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS). As the report already presents a detailed outline of recent events in Guinea-Bissau, my intervention will focus on updating the Council on political developments since its issuance, while analysing present challenges and making proposals for the way forward. This briefing takes place against the backdrop of a rapidly evolving political situation in Guinea-Bissau. Over the past several weeks, a series of key events have occurred with important ramifications. At the country level, President José Mário Vaz dismissed former Prime Minister Umaro Sissoco Embaló and replaced him with Mr. Artur Da Silva. The African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cape Verde (PAIGC) finally held its party congress despite attempts by national authorities to block it, and re-elected Domingos Simões Pereira as its leader. At the regional level, on 4 February, the Authority of Heads of State and Government of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), pursuant to its decision of 27 January, imposed targeted sanctions on 19 individuals deemed to be obstructing the implementation of the Conakry Agreement. Those individuals and their family members are subject to travel bans and assets freeze. They have also been suspended from ECOWAS activities. The ECOWAS Authority also requested the African Union (AU), the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries, the European Union, the United Nations and other partners to support and facilitate the enforcement of the sanctions. Since the imposition of the sanctions, the reaction of national stakeholders has been mixed. Those upon whom the sanctions were imposed have described them as unsubstantiated and unjust, while those in favour of the sanctions have characterized them as a necessary measure to safeguard the country's democratic course. Meanwhile, national reactions to the appointment of Mr. Artur Da Silva as the new Prime Minister have been generally consistent. On 31 January, the PAIGC issued a statement denouncing Mr. Da Silva's appointment as not being in conformity with the Conakry Agreement. Last week, the Party for Social Renewal, the second largest party in Parliament, and the group of 15 dissident parliamentarians of the PAIGC also issued public statements stressing that they would participate only in a Government formed under a consensual Prime Minister, in strict compliance with the Conakry Agreement. Thus far, the Prime Minister's efforts to consult with political parties represented in the National Assembly on the formation of an inclusive Government have not borne fruit. Under my leadership, the group of five regional and international partners, comprised of representatives of the African Union, the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries, ECOWAS, the European Union and the United Nations, has continued 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 3/20 to harmonize efforts and messaging at opportune moments with the aim of creating a stable and enabling environment for dialogue among political leaders. So far this year, I have convened three meetings of the group. My efforts, together with those of the partners, have focused on engaging national authorities and key political stakeholders in Guinea-Bissau to defuse escalating tensions, encourage political dialogue in order to ease the political gridlock, call for the protection and respect for the human rights of Bissau-Guinean citizens, and urge all aggrieved stakeholders to pursue their grievances through legal and constitutional means. Furthermore, under my direction, UNIOGBIS continues to play a central role in supporting and facilitating the regional mediation efforts of ECOWAS by, inter alia, ensuring the participation of Bissau- Guinean stakeholders at the ECOWAS Summit in Abuja in December 2017, providing substantive and logistical support for the ECOWAS high-level delegations during their missions to Bissau and regularly sensitizing regional leaders to ongoing political developments within the country, while encouraging them to exert their influence on protagonists in order to reach compromises. The absence of a functioning and stable Government for more than three years has limited the ability of UNIOGBIS to effectively and sustainably implement some of its mandated tasks. As recommended by the strategic review mission headed by the Department of Political Affairs in 2016 and endorsed by the Council last year, I have streamlined the UNIOGBIS leadership and structure to promote better integration and complementarity with the United Nations country team and other international partners, while boosting the Mission's political capacities, which has enabled me to exercise my good offices more effectively at the national level. Those changes have also assisted the broader United Nations system in Guinea-Bissau in delivering more focused and integrated peacebuilding support to national authorities and civil society, including women and youth. In this regard, the support provided by the Peacebuilding Fund has been critical. Going forward, UNIOGBIS will need to focus its energies on supporting national leaders in their efforts to appoint an acceptable Prime Minister, establish an inclusive Government, organize and conduct timely elections, and implement the priority reforms outlined in the Conakry Agreement and the ECOWAS road map. Until the completion of the electoral cycle in 2019, Guinea-Bissau remains more than ever a country that requires a dedicated United Nations presence to prevent a further deterioration in the political and security situation at the national level and avoid any negative consequences in the subregion. In this context, my good offices, political facilitation, advocacy and mediation roles, alongside my efforts aimed at promoting respect for human rights and the rule of law and at carrying out integrated peacebuilding support, will continue to be critical. As the Secretary-General has indicated in his report, it is vital that the United Nations remain engaged in peacebuilding efforts in the country while supporting ECOWAS involvement in resolving the political crisis for at least one more year. The Secretary-General has expressed his intention to authorize an assessment of the current mission at the end of that period and to present options to the Security Council for a possible reconfiguration of United Nations presence in the country. It is my hope that the Council will give favourable consideration to this recommendation. The African Union Peace and Security Council (AUPSC), through its communiqué of 13 February, has fully endorsed the measures taken by ECOWAS on 4 February, including the application of sanctions against political obstructionists. It has also requested the African Union Commission to coordinate with the ECOWAS Commission to ensure the effective implementation of these measures. Moreover, it has requested that the Security Council endorse the AUPSC communiqué that endorsed the ECOWAS decision. At this critical juncture, it would be important for the Security Council to continue to reaffirm the centrality of the Conakry Agreement and reiterate its full support for ECOWAS in its mediation efforts and for the measures that it has taken against political stakeholders deemed to be obstructing the resolution of the political crisis. I would further seek the Council's support in underscoring the importance of urgently organizing and holding legislative elections within the constitutionally mandated timeline. Lastly, throughout the past year, the presence of the ECOWAS Mission in Guinea-Bissau (ECOMIB) has consistently acted as a stabilizing factor in the country. I would therefore call on members of the Council and international donors to support the continued presence of ECOMIB through to the holding of a presidential election in 2019, including by advocating for the renewal S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 4/20 18-04195 of its mandate and the provision of the financial support needed to maintain its deployment. I would like to express my gratitude to the Council for its continued interest in promoting peace and stability in Guinea-Bissau. I would also like to commend ECOWAS and its current Chair, President Faure Gnassingbé of Togo, and the ECOWAS Mediator for Guinea-Bissau, President Alpha Condé of Guinea, for their tireless mediation efforts. Finally, I would like to express appreciation to all multilateral and bilateral partners, especially to the AU, the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries and the European Union for their commitment to promoting peace and prosperity in Guinea-Bissau. After several years of long-term investment in the stability of Guinea- Bissau, it is time to consolidate and reap the dividends of our concerted efforts. It is vital that we accompany this process to its completion. The President (spoke in Arabic): I thank Mr. Touré for his briefing. I now give the floor to Mr. Vieira. Mr. Vieira (Brazil): I would like to thank you, Mr. President, for the invitation to address the Security Council in my capacity as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission (PBC). Since my last briefing to the Security Council, on 24 August last year (see S/PV.8031), there have been several important developments in the country. The situation in Guinea-Bissau is rapidly evolving, and the PBC is following it closely. At the most recent Summit of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), held in Abuja on 16 December, the Heads of State and Government gave a 30-day deadline for political actors of Guinea-Bissau to implement the Conakry Agreement. The situation was discussed again by the Assembly of Heads of State and Government of the African Union, held in Addis Ababa on 27 January, in the context of its thirtieth ordinary session. After 15 months as Head of Government, Prime Minister Umaro Sissoco Embaló tendered his resignation to President José Mário Vaz, who accepted it on 16 January. On 31 January, Artur Da Silva took office as the new Prime Minister. The Minister of Foreign Affairs of Togo, Robert Dussey, led two ECOWAS missions to Bissau this year. On 1 February, the ECOWAS mission issued a final communiqué stating that the nomination of a Prime Minister by consensus, as determined by the Conakry Agreement, had not taken place and that the ECOWAS Commission would start applying sanctions against those who create obstacles to a political solution. On 4 February, ECOWAS issued a decision listing 19 names that will be subject to sanctions, consisting of the exclusion from the activities of the community, a travel ban, and the freezing of assets of the sanctioned persons and their families. The Guinea-Bissau configuration is actively engaged in following the situation in Guinea-Bissau and in providing support for the country through different initiatives. I am also in permanent contact with the Brazilian Ambassador in Bissau, who maintains excellent relations with national authorities, political actors and United Nations representatives. I would remind Council members that Brazil was one of the first countries to recognize Guinea-Bissau in 1974. In that same year we opened an embassy in Bissau. In 2017, I organized a working breakfast with the members of the PBC and four ambassador-level meetings of the Guinea-Bissau configuration. We issued three press statements last year on the situation in the country. I also briefed the Security Council on two occasions, on 14 February (see S/PV. 7883) and on 24 August. Between 25 and 28 July 2017, I conducted my first visit to Bissau in my capacity as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration. I met many political actors, including President José Mário Vaz, then-Prime Minister Sissoco, a number of ministers, members of all parties in the Parliament, and representatives of the United Nations. On my return, I stopped in Lisbon, where I met with the Executive Secretary of the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries, Ms. Maria do Carmo Silveira. On 15 December 2017, the Peacebuilding Fund (PBF) approved six new projects for Guinea-Bissau, totalling $7 million, to be implemented between January 2018 and June 2019. These projects are designed to help stabilize the country by providing support to the media and the justice sector, as well as support for national reconciliation efforts and the participation of young people and women in peacebuilding and in politics. The Guinea-Bissau configuration of the PBC discussed and 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 5/20 supported these projects in a meeting held in November last year. The PBC will continue to support Guinea-Bissau not only through the PBF, but also through consultations with different partners, including the World Bank and other international financial institutions. In this context, I am planning a visit to Washington in the coming weeks in order to talk to representatives of the World Bank about possibilities for cooperation with Guinea-Bissau. On Monday, 12 February, I convened a meeting of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the PBC to discuss the most recent developments in the country. On that occasion, we heard a briefing from the Under- Secretary-General for Political Affairs and Head of the Department of Political Affairs, Mr. Jeffrey Feltman. I would like to thank Under-Secretary-General Feltman for his presence there. It was a positive sign of engagement and trust in the role of the PBC. It also showed his commitment to contributing to a solution to the current impasse in Guinea-Bissau. During that meeting, the participants had the opportunity to discuss the recent developments in the country, including the decision of ECOWAS to impose sanctions. They underlined the need for dialogue and mentioned the role of the region, including the importance of the implementation of the Conakry Agreement. Member States also commended the work of the PBF in Guinea-Bissau. Many participants stressed the relevance of respecting the constitutional framework in organizing elections. Member States welcomed the non-involvement of the armed forces in the political crisis. Many delegations mentioned the positive presence of the ECOWAS Mission in Guinea- Bissau (ECOMIB). Delegations also supported the renewal of the mandate of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS), which is expected to happen by the end of this month, and underlined the importance of the good offices of the Special Representative of the Secretary-General, Mr. Modibo Touré. Finally, I also would like to inform the Council that it is my intention to visit Guinea-Bissau in the coming months to consult with a broad range of stakeholders on how the PBC can support peacebuilding efforts in the country and help the political actors find a solution to the current impasse. The exact date of the visit will depend on developments on the ground and will be scheduled in consultation with local authorities. I would like to recall that Brazil is currently the Chair of the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries (CPLP). As was done when I previously briefed the Council, the CPLP has endorsed my remarks. I would like to conclude my statement by reaffirming that the PBC will continue to make every effort to support Guinea-Bissau and I would like to outline the following recommendations in that regard. I reiterate the support of the configuration for the Bissau six-point road map and the Conakry Agreement as the framework for the resolution of the crisis. I call upon the authorities of Guinea-Bissau and key political actors to show leadership and determination by engaging in actions that would lead to the implementation of those agreements. I take note of the efforts of the region to resolve the political impasse in the country. I stress the importance of holding free and fair elections, in accordance with the Constitution of Guinea- Bissau, and call upon the international community to support that process. I underline the importance of renewing the mandate of UNIOGBIS for another year, as recommended by the Secretary-General. I also recognize the effective, preventive and deterrent role of ECOMIB. Finally, I would like to commend the Special Representative of the Secretary-General, Mr. Modibo Touré, for his efforts to help ensure an enabling political environment in the country. The President (spoke in Arabic): I thank Ambassador Vieira for his briefing. I now give the floor to those Council members who wish to make statements. Mr. Tanoh-Boutchoue (Côte d'Ivoire) (spoke in French): I would like to begin my statement by thanking the Special Representative of the Secretary- General, Mr. Modibo Touré, for his insightful briefing on the situation in Guinea-Bissau and the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau. I will focus my statement on two main points: the implementation of the Conakry Agreement by the Guinea-Bissau signatories and the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau. S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 6/20 18-04195 Guinea-Bissau is going through a new phase in the serious and deep political and institutional crisis of recent years. My country and West Africa are concerned about this situation, which is characterized by a political impasse and requires the Council to act with greater firmness alongside the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) and the African Union to bring the political actors of Guinea-Bissau to honour their commitments. Indeed, despite the signing on 14 October 2016 of the Conakry Agreement, which was supposed to favour the appointment of a consensus Prime Minister and the establishment of an inclusive Government, the country is again without a Government and confronted by a blockage of Parliament and a deep lack of trust between the President of the Republic and his party, the African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cape Verde. The stalemate heightens raises concerns not only of a detrimental delay in the electoral calendar, which calls for the holding of legislative elections in May 2018 and presidential elections in 2019, but also of the exacerbation of political tensions and the growth of the criminal economy linked to drug trafficking. My country welcomes the ongoing efforts of ECOWAS to definitively resolve the crisis in Guinea-Bissau, in strict compliance with the communal arrangements and constitutional framework of the country. The current deadlock in Guinea-Bissau is the culmination of a prolonged deterioration of the political situation and the manifest lack of will on the part of the political actors to commit themselves to a consensual settlement of the crisis, despite the appeals and efforts of ECOWAS. Côte d'Ivoire calls on the parties to implement the Conakry Agreement in good faith and without delay. My delegation once again commends ECOWAS for its leadership and the ongoing commitment of its leaders, the Chairperson of the ECOWAS Authority, President Faure Gnassingbé of Togo, and the ECOWAS Mediator for Guinea-Bissau, President Alpha Condé of Guinea, in the quest for a solution to the political impasse in Guinea-Bissau. Côte d'Ivoire also commends the ECOWAS Mission in Guinea-Bissau for its invaluable contribution to stability in the country. ECOWAS, after a lengthy process of futile warnings, decided to adopt individual sanctions against 19 persons considered to be hostile to the process of ending the crisis in Guinea-Bissau. The sanctions are a strong signal of the resolve of ECOWAS to bring the country out of a crisis that has persisted too long. Those measures — which specifically involve the suspension of the participation in the activities of ECOWAS of all persons concerned, a travel ban on travel, the denial of visas to them and their families, and the freezing of their financial assets — must be applied with utmost rigour. The sanctions, I recall, are based on the Supplementary Act of 17 February 2012, which imposes sanctions on Member States that fail to honour their obligations vis-à-vis ECOWAS, and article 45 of the Protocol on Democracy and Good Governance. My country congratulates ECOWAS on taking those courageous measures, which will serve as a wake-up call to the Guinea-Bissau political class, and looks forward to their effective endorsement by the African Union. Côte d'Ivoire invites the Council to fully support ECOWAS in the interests of peace and national cohesion in Guinea-Bissau. To that end, my country calls on the Security Council to adopt by consensus the draft resolution on the renewal of the mandate of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau, which also requires the endorsement of those sanctions. Furthermore, my delegation urges the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries (CPLP), the European Union and the United Nations to also support the efforts of ECOWAS to effectively implement measures that seek to ensure that the Conakry Agreement be upheld. Institutional and political stability, peace and security in Guinea-Bissau depend primarily on the people of Guinea-Bissau themselves. To achieve that, we call on them to take ownership of the Conakry Agreement. Without the involvement of the parties themselves, the prospects for finding a solution to the crisis and for restoring lasting peace to Guinea-Bissau will remain illusory. With regard to the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau, my delegation welcomes the various initiatives to support the political dialogue and the national reconciliation process. Furthermore, we encourage ongoing consultations in order to make progress on security sector reform and to meet the needs of the peacebuilding mechanism under way in Guinea-Bissau. My delegation thanks the Special Representative of the Secretary-General for Guinea-Bissau for his efforts in mediation, promoting the rule of law and building the capacity of the Guinea-Bissau institutions. Côte d'Ivoire encourages its international partners, in 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 7/20 particular the United Nations, the African Union, the European Union, the CPLP and ECOWAS, to cooperate more closely with regard to their work on the ground to ensure greater effectiveness. My country also welcomes the strong involvement of Guinea-Bissau women in the political process, and in particular their role in facilitating dialogue between the parties. With regard to the renewal of the mandate of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau, I would like to inform the members of the Council that Côte d'Ivoire will soon submit a draft resolution for adoption on that issue. At the same time, if it is acceptable to all members of the Council, a draft press statement will also be submitted for adoption. My country reiterates its appeal to all stakeholders in the crisis in Guinea-Bissau to participate fully in the efforts of the international community, in particular of ECOWAS, to promote the comprehensive implementation of the Conakry Agreement, which guarantees a way out of the political impasse that the country has long suffered. I would like to finish by thanking Ambassador Mauro Vieira of Brazil, Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission, for all the information that he has kindly provided to the Council. Ms. Tachco (United States of America): I wish to thank Mr. Touré, Special Representative of the Secretary-General, for his briefing and Ambassador Vieira not only for his briefing but also for his leadership of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission. Recently, the Security Council has witnessed significant success in West Africa in places that have experienced years or even decades of violence and tragedy. Such success includes the first democratic transfer of power in Liberia in more than 70 years and the continued consolidation of democracy in The Gambia, as well as strong economic growth in countries across the region. However, there remain many serious and profound challenges, such as the terrorist threat posed by Boko Haram and the Islamic State in West Africa, elections and reform challenges facing countries with upcoming democratic transition, and humanitarian crises and displacement, all of which merit the continued attention of the Security Council. Given the urgency and magnitude of such problems, the United States believes that a self-inflicted 30-month political impasse, such as that in Guinea-Bissau, is unacceptable. For too long we have gathered to hear updates on fits and starts of political progress that eventually fade to obstruction and obfuscation from the country's leadership. The United States is profoundly disappointed by the decision of President Vaz to ignore the Conakry Agreement by failing to appoint a consensus Prime Minister and to create an inclusive Government. President Vaz must take urgent steps towards a unity Government that will pave the way for peaceful legislative elections in May. The people of Guinea-Bissau are understandably frustrated at the failure of their Government to make progress on the implementation of the Agreement. They deserve better. Time is running out. We have witnessed rising tension. Political gatherings in Bissau have provoked clashes as the people of Guinea- Bissau publicly express their frustration at the skeletal political process. Those clashes led to a crackdown by the Guinea-Bissau leadership. The Government must respect the people's right to peaceful expression and protect that right. On 4 February, the Economic Community of West African States took the ambitious step of sanctioning 19 spoilers of the Conakry Agreement, including their family members. The United States applauds such efforts to hold those in power accountable and to compel them towards finally doing what is right for the people of Guinea-Bissau. We also applaud the renewal of the mandate of the ECOWAS Mission in Guinea- Bissau and encourage the Guinea-Bissau military to continue its political non-interference, while playing its constitutional role. For years, the international community and the United Nations have put resources into Guinea-Bissau to do important things for the benefit of its people. However, with a Government at an impasse, important issues such as security sector reform and combating transnational organized crime, narcotics and human trafficking cannot be adequately addressed. That is unacceptable. As Ambassador Haley noted in the peacekeeping context, the United Nations cannot operate effectively in environments with uncooperative Governments. That also applies to political missions such as the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea- S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 8/20 18-04195 Bissau (UNIOGBIS). For UNIOGBIS to continue on that path would not be the continuation of a partnership with a willing Government but would simply enable its obstruction. Elections must take place on time and will require support. However, first, the Government must first end the impasse to convince its partners that international support will build on established political progress and a willingness to overcome differences to enable the Government to function again. In conclusion, we once again draw attention to the ordinary people of Guinea-Bissau who, for the better part of their lives, have not known the stability of sustainable democratic governance. The Security Council must keep them in mind as we take steps to put pressure on leaders to abandon their self-serving wilfulness and to take action to better the lives of their people. They should know that our patience has now run out. Ms. Guadey (Ethiopia): I wish to thank Mr. Modibo Touré, Special Representative of the Secretary- General, for his briefing on the latest developments in Guinea-Bissau and the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS). I would also like to express appreciation to Ambassador Mauro Vieira in his capacity as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission (PBC) for his remarks. The continued political stand-off and institutional paralysis in Guinea-Bissau remain a source of serious concern. The consequent socioeconomic difficulties over the past two years have impacted the people of Guinea-Bissau and will eventually undermine the peace and stability of the country. We appreciate the important role of the PBC and welcome the approval of useful projects to be financed under the Immediate Response Facility of the Peacebuilding Fund to the amount of $7.3 million. Such projects will certainly contribute to easing the socioeconomic difficulties of women and young people, as well as to promoting stability. The centrality of the Conakry Agreement to sustaining peace, security and development in Guinea- Bissau cannot be overemphasized. We reiterate our call for all stakeholders in Guinea-Bissau to respect and to comply with the Agreement in addressing their differences and the challenges facing their country. We urge them to create conditions for the holding of legislative and presidential elections in 2018 and 2019, respectively. All parties should also refrain from actions or statements that could escalate tensions and incite violence. It is indeed vital that the security and armed forces of Guinea-Bissau continue to uphold the country's Constitution and desist from interfering in the political and institutional crisis. Those who continue to obstruct the implementation of the agreement must be given clear signals that their actions will not be tolerated. In that regard, we commend the role of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) and the high-level delegation it dispatched to Guinea-Bissau two weeks ago. We support its decision on restoring democratic governance and ensuring respect for the rule of law in Guinea Bissau, as endorsed by the African Union (AU) Peace and Security Council communiqué issued today. The Council should reinforce the decision by ECOWAS and the African Union and convey a clear and united message to all the parties in this regard. We believe the concerted efforts by ECOWAS, the African Union, the United Nations and other relevant partners continues to be indispensable to finding a durable solution to the political crisis in Guinea-Bissau. We express our support to UNIOGBIS for its continued provision of necessary support to Guinea- Bissau, with the objective of resolving the current political impasse and creating an environment for of dialogue among all of the country's actors. Accordingly, we fully agree with the recommendation of the Secretary General that the current UNIOGBIS mandate be extended for another year, until 28 February 2019. Finally, we echo the appeal of the AU Peace and Security Council for financial support towards the continuation of the mandate of the ECOWAS Mission in Guinea-Bissau — whose mandate has been extended to 31 March — until the necessary training of the national security forces of Guinea-Bissau is completed. I wish to conclude by supporting the draft press statement proposed by Côte d'Ivoire, and express our readiness to work closely on the draft resolution that will renew the UNIOGBIS mandate. Mrs. Gueguen (France) (spoke in French): I thank Mr. Modibo Touré, Special Representative of the Secretary-General and Head of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau, for his clear and precise briefing, which reminds us of just how critical this point is for Guinea-Bissau. I also thank Ambassador Mauro Vieira for his efforts as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 9/20 Commission and for his insistent appeal for support to regional initiatives and for respect for the electoral cycle in Guinea-Bissau. France is concerned about the non-implementation of the Conakry Agreement since October 2016. The Agreement, which provides for the appointment of a consensus Prime Minister, has remained a dead letter, even though it provides a plan to resolve the conflict. This political impasse has consequences on the ground. There have been several clashes between the police and opposition political parties. Respect for human rights is also not assured in Guinea-Bissau. The latest developments on the ground show that the authorities of Guinea-Bissau no longer hesitate to limit the freedom of assembly and the right to protest. The establishment of a robust compliance framework with regard to respect for public freedoms is an essential precondition to the resolution of the crisis in Guinea-Bissau. We therefore call upon the international community to be particularly vigilant in that regard. Due to the risk of a deterioration in the political and security situation, it is high time for all parties to honour their commitments to reach national consensus, all the more so because the window of opportunity is narrowing, as legislative elections are slated for this spring. In that regard, it is particularly important to ensure that the legislative and presidential time table is adhered to. I would like to emphasize three essential points with regard to the renewal at the end of the month of the madate of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS). First, we must increase our support for regional initiatives. In that regard, France welcomes the ongoing efforts of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), especially the work of the ECOWAS Mission in Guinea-Bissau and the recent adoption of the sanctions list of people obstructing the implementation of the Conakry Agreement. That is an important step forward and a clear sign to the relevant local actors. We are convinced that the solution to the conflict will require consultation among local actors and the international community. In that connection, the group of five international partners based in Guinea-Bissau, which comprises the African Union, the European Union, the United Nations, ECOWAS and the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries, provides a special coordination platform that ought to be supported. Secondly, it is crucial for the Security Council to fully assume its role in resolving the current political impasse in Guinea-Bissau. The Council should increase pressure on local actors, particularly President Vaz, and should direct the parties in Guinea-Bissau to shoulder their responsibilities. Sanctions were adopted in 2012 through resolution 2048 (2012), and additional measures could be taken in conjunction with those taken by ECOWAS. Thirdly, it is essential to renew the mandate of UNIOGBIS, which ends 28 February, and thereby signal the commitment of the United Nations to continuing to participate in the process of resolving the conflict. We should also contemplate restructuring UNIOGBIS following an assessment of the impact of its activities on the ground. It is time for the parties in Guinea-Bissau to move from words to action. Their commitments must now give way to concrete action. Mr. Meza-Cuadra (Peru) (spoke in Spanish): My delegation welcomes the holding of this meeting and thanks Mr. Modibo Touré, Special Representative of the Secretary-General and Head of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea- Bissau, for his briefing. We also thank Ambassador Mauro Vieira for his commitment and leadership as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission. Peru is monitoring with concern the situation in Guinea-Bissau. Despite efforts by the international community and regional organizations to reach a solution to the political crisis, little progress has been made in the implementation of the Conakry Agreement, concluded in October 2016. We would like to make three main points. First, Peru deems the successful holding of 2018 and 2019 elections to be crucial to achieving sustainable peace. In that regard, we are concerned about the nomination of a Prime Minister who does not enjoy consensus among all parties, as called for in the Conakry Agreement. That undermines the credibility of the Government. Additionally, four of the members of the National Electoral Commission, including its President, could not be nominated for the National Assembly, which has not convened since S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 10/20 18-04195 January 2016. Such conditions complicate the holding of legislative elections slated for May. That is why we believe it is necessary and urgent for all parties to resume inclusive dialogue with a view to implementing the commitments undertaken. We welcome the efforts of the Economic Community of West African States, which include imposing sanctions on those who obstruct the implementation of the Conakry Agreement, in line with regional rules and regulations. We believe that it is important to increase the participation of women and youth in the necessary dialogue and subsequent elections. That is why we highlight the efforts of the Women's Facilitation Group, which seeks to increase the participation of women in the country's political processes. Secondly, we are concerned that, despite the current relative stability, a stalled political process could lead to renewed violence and rampant crime, especially considering that the country is vulnerable to threats such as terrorism, organized crime and human trafficking. In that connection, we highlight the launching of the Network of National Human Rights Defenders. As the Secretary-General noted in his report (S/2018/110), reform is needed in this area, including strengthening the armed forces and the professionalization of the police. Similarly, we call for full respect for the fundamental right to freedom of expression in Guinea-Bissau. Thirdly, with regard to socioeconomic development, we would like to highlight the fact that, although the World Bank has reported economic growth of 5 per cent over the past year, it should be borne in mind that such growth is primarily attributed to the country's main exports being sold at a higher price on the international market. Nonetheless, a country whose poverty rate is approximately 70 per cent is socially and economically vulnerable. That is why we believe that peacekeeping and peacebuilding require greater investment in social development, and in particular in Peacebuilding Fund projects aimed at empowering women and young people, promoting national reconciliation and strengthening the judiciary. We underscore the importance of ensuring the predictability and stability of the Fund's financing. We also believe that it is important that the activities promoted by the Peacebuilding Fund be coordinated with the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS) and the United Nations country team. In conclusion, we support the renewal of the UNIOGBIS mandate for an additional year, in line with the recommendation of the Secretary-General. We thank the Economic Community of West African States, the African Union, the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries, the European Union and other international actors committed to assisting Guinea-Bissau for their valuable efforts. Mr. Ndong Mba (Equatorial Guinea) (spoke in Spanish): At the outset, on behalf of the Republic of Equatorial Guinea, let me thank the Special Representative of the Secretary-General for Guinea- Bissau and Head of Mission for the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNOGBIS), Mr. Modibo Touré, and his team for the detailed and important briefing on the situation in Guinea-Bissau. We also thank Mr. Mauro Vieira, Permanent Representative of Brazil to the United Nations, in his capacity as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission, for his briefing, in which he underscored the configuration's commitment to the various initiatives in Guinea-Bissau. The Republic of Equatorial Guinea has followed very closely and with great interest the developments in the political and institutional crisis in Guinea-Bissau. It has paid even closer attention since the country joined the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries (CPLP) in 2014, and now that Equatorial Guinea chairs the Committee established pursuant to resolution 2048 (2012), concerning Guinea-Bissau. In my capacity as Chair of the 2048 Committee, I would like to voice our concern about the deadlock in the peace process in Guinea-Bissau, which is hindering the country's national reform programme, thereby threatening to undermine progress in the country since constitutional order was restored in 2014. Equatorial Guinea lauds the commitment and considerable effort made, as well as the human and financial resources made available by international multilateral partners, in particular the Guinea- Bissau group of five, comprising the African Union, the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS), the CPLP, the European Union and the United Nations. Undoubtedly, the synergy among international actors with regard to the issue in Guinea-Bissau attests to the desire and willingness of the international community to find a peaceful and 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 11/20 consensus-based solution in the interests of Guinea- Bissau. The Conakry Agreement must continue to be the fundamental reference for national political actors. The Agreement not only outlines the appointment of a Prime Minister who is trusted by the President of the Republic, but whose appointment is the result of consensus among all national stakeholders. The Republic of Equatorial Guinea has taken note of the rejection of the appointment of Mr. Augusto Antonio Artur Da Silva by ECOWAS and the main political actors in Guinea-Bissau, in particular of the two main political parties — the Partido Africano da Independência da Guiné e Cabo Verde and the Partido para a Renovação Social. Given the lack of consensus surrounding the appointment of the Prime Minister, the Republic of Equatorial Guinea calls upon all political actors in the Republic of Guinea-Bissau, including the President of the Republic, as well as the leaders of the two main political parties, to work together to form an inclusive Government that would create the right conditions ahead of upcoming legislative elections to be held later this year, and presidential elections in 2019. The Republic of Equatorial Guinea supports the electoral calendar as outlined in the country's Constitution. That is why the Republic of Equatorial Guinea believes that an international support mechanism for the electoral process should be put in place for the purpose of updating the electoral rolls and assisting the Independent National Electoral Commission to effectively shoulder its responsibility, and with all other preparations that would allow for the holding of transparent, democratic elections whose results would put a definitive end to the political maze the country has had to navigate over the past few years. The extension of the mandate of UNIOGBIS is a key element in resolving the crisis. As announced, ECOWAS has decided to extend the mandate of the ECOWAS Mission in Guinea-Bissau until 31 March. The actions of the United Nations must be part of that undertaking. The Security Council's vote, scheduled for 27 February, must allow the Mission to be extended for a year or more, until presidential elections are held in 2019. The Republic of Equatorial Guinea believes that international partners should continue to focus primarily on mediation, good offices, dialogue and direct negotiations as the only viable paths to breaking the current political and institutional deadlock. The most recent report of the Secretary-General on the situation in Guinea-Bissau and the activities of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (S/2018/110) concludes that the population's latent frustration with an uncertain political environment could foster instability and crime. Equatorial Guinea reiterates its gratitude to the defence and security forces that have chosen to adopt a neutral, republican position. Therefore, we urge all political actors in Guinea-Bissau to put the interests of the country and its people, love of State and their responsibility above all other considerations so as to create the right conditions for the holding of free, fair and transparent elections. Stability in the country must not be disassociated from economic recovery. In that regard, we welcome the support of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission, through the Peacebuilding Fund, in financing various multisectoral projects. The Republic of Equatorial Guinea will take part in good offices and negotiations. Equatorial Guinea, as a member of the CPLP and Chair of the Committee established pursuant to resolution 2048 (2012), concerning Guinea- Bissau, will support and take initiatives that it believes are necessary to assist in efforts under way to find a solution to the situation in the brotherly country of Guinea-Bissau. Mr. Skoog (Sweden): I would like to begin by thanking the Special Representative of the Secretary- General, Mr. Modibo Touré, for his briefing. I commend him and his team for the valuable work being undertaken in support of the people of Guinea-Bissau. Let me also extend my thanks to the Permanent Representative of Brazil, Ambassador Mauro Vieira, in his capacity as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission. As Ambassador Vieira mentioned his country's long-standing relations with Guinea-Bissau, I thought that I would take this opportunity to point out that Sweden recognized Guinea-Bissau in 1974, and we began supporting General Assembly resolution 2911 (XXVII), concerning its self-rule, in 1968. In the 1970s and 1980s, Guinea-Bissau was one of our largest development partner countries. There is therefore a deep and historic friendship between Sweden and the people of Guinea-Bissau, and it is in that spirit of friendship that we are engaging in support for Guinea- Bissau in meeting its current complex challenges. S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 12/20 18-04195 Moreover, we welcome the opportunity to draw upon the strategic advice of the Peacebuilding Commission and its longer-term perspective, which are essential for sustaining peace in Guinea-Bissau. The activities financed by the Peacebuilding Fund to that end are also important. An integrated approach from the United Nations family in Guinea-Bissau can contribute positively to overcoming peacebuilding challenges. Accordingly, we welcome the efforts outlined in the report of the Secretary-General (S/2018/110). We are concerned by the ongoing and increasingly protracted political crisis in Guinea-Bissau. A lack of progress in resolving the stalemate undermines peacebuilding efforts and is holding the country's social and economic development hostage. Resolving the crisis is therefore a prerequisite for the consolidation of peace in the country. The six-point Bissau road map and the Conakry Agreement remain the only legitimate way forward, and must be implemented. The appointment of a consensus Prime Minister, as stipulated in the Agreement, is essential. National leaders must live up to their commitments and meet their responsibilities. We strongly commend the efforts of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) to mediate among the parties to find a solution to the political crisis. ECOWAS is playing an essential role on behalf of the region, and we welcome its continued efforts to reach a consensual implementation of the road map and Conakry Agreement. We welcome the ECOWAS decision to impose sanctions on those impeding the Agreement's implementation. It is important that the international community fully support regional efforts in a concerted and coherent manner. In that regard, we welcome the statement issued yesterday by the African Union in support of ECOWAS, including regarding sanctions. Long-term peace and security in Guinea-Bissau will be achieved only when the root causes of the conflict are addressed. Constitutional reform, reconciliation and political dialogue, strengthening the rule of law through strong and inclusive institutions, and ensuring equal access to economic opportunities are all critical in that regard. It is also essential that all parts of society have their voices heard. In particular, ensuring the full and effective participation of women is crucial. We agree with the Secretary-General that the promotion of, and respect for, human rights is fundamental to sustaining peace and ensuring long-term stability and development in Guinea-Bissau. We echo the Secretary- General's call on national authorities to respect human rights and fundamental freedoms and to refrain from any further acts that undermine the rule of law. Let me also take a moment to welcome the military's neutrality and its posture of non-interference in the political process. Concerning the role of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS), it has a crucial role to play in coordinating international efforts to support Guinea-Bissau, not least of which is supporting preparations for the holding of elections. There is a need to immediately refocus the Office's resources where they can be used most effectively, particularly with regard to resolving the political deadlock and supporting the electoral process so that it moves forward. We strongly support the Office's work to strengthen women's participation as active peacemakers in resolving the political crisis, including by encouraging women's mediation efforts. We welcome in particular that the integration of gender-sensitive perspectives into the work of UNIOGBIS and the United Nations country team has been accorded the highest priority by the United Nations in Guinea- Bissau. We look forward to hearing more about how that process is being taken forward. During the Peacebuilding Commission's meeting on Guinea-Bissau on Monday this week, all key actors, including Guinea-Bissau, expressed the view that the Secretary-General's recommendation for a one-year extension of the UNIOGBIS mandate should be authorized. A one-year extension would allow for longer-term planning and more effective support for the implementation of the Conakry Agreement and the holding of elections. The political crisis in Guinea-Bissau has gone on for far too long. It is now time to move forward with the full implementation of the Conakry Agreement and preparations for the holding of inclusive elections. The international community, together with the region, must stand ready to support the country on its path towards long-term peace and development. Mr. Clay (United Kingdom): I thank Special Representative of the Secretary-General Touré and Ambassador Vieira for their informative briefings. The situation in Guinea-Bissau is concerning. It is not the first country in the world to experience a political impasse, but it is a country that continues to emerge from the serious instability and violence 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 13/20 of its recent past. The political impasse has prevented progress on reforms that are critical to addressing key conflict risks in Guinea-Bissau. The situation is only likely to become more volatile as we move towards elections. We have already seen violent confrontations between demonstrators and police, and witnessed worrying efforts to curb political freedoms. Economic growth is at risk, and a serious deterioration in stability would be deeply damaging for development and human rights. The illicit economy and transnational organized crime risk becoming further entrenched, with global implications. More broadly, instability in Guinea- Bissau would affect the wider region, which over the past year has been, for the most part, the site of positive political progress. The United Kingdom welcomes the leadership shown by the West African region, particularly through the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS). It has shown persistence and patience. This is a crisis that began in 2015. It brokered the Conakry Agreement 15 months ago. It has agreed to countless communiqués and published innumerable statements. It has sent numerous high-level delegations to Guinea- Bissau, including three over the past six months alone. But those most responsible for Guinea-Bissau's crisis have responded with stubborn refusal to give ground and find compromise. Therefore, it is understandable that the region's patience has worn thin. ECOWAS has now been driven to impose sanctions against individuals deemed responsible for impeding the implementation of the Conakry Agreement. The African Union Peace and Security Council has endorsed that move. The United Kingdom supports the ECOWAS decision, and we urge the Security Council and the entire international community to remain united in support of ECOWAS efforts. We also believe that it is important to recognize the bold efforts of civil society in Guinea-Bissau to resolve the crisis. In particular, the mediation efforts launched by the Women's Facilitation Group were an encouraging initiative, and we welcome the support given to them by the United Nations. As set out in resolution 2343 (2017), political support for efforts towards the implementation of the Conakry Agreement should be a priority for the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea- Bissau. The key next step remains the appointment of a consensus Prime Minister so that preparations can proceed for legislative elections in 2018, as per the country's Constitution. As we open discussions on its renewal, the United Kingdom will focus on ensuring that the Mission's mandate responds to today's political reality on the ground, that it is realistic and that it is focused on the highest priority needs. Guinea-Bissau's people watched the country emerge from a period of instability but then found their hopes for democracy obstructed by a political knot that their own leaders tied. Support from the region and the international community to prevent the country from backsliding further will not succeed until those who tied the knot untangle it. We hope that good sense, compromise and the commitment to Guinea-Bissau's future will prevail. Ms. Wronecka (Poland): First of all, I thank Special Representative of the Secretary-General Modibo Touré and Ambassador Mauro Vieira, Permanent Representative of Brazil to the United Nations, in his capacity as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission, for their useful briefings. Poland is following with growing concern the current situation in Guinea-Bissau. We support the efforts of the international community aimed at peacefully resolving the political crisis in the country. We therefore call on all political and civil society actors, regardless of their personal differences and ambitions, to engage in dialogue in a spirit of compromise. In that context, we take note that the army is not interfering in the political process. The implementation of the 2016 road map and the Conakry Agreement is crucial to maintaining peace and stability in the country. We appeal to the Guinea- Bissau authorities to complete their implementation and carry out the parliamentary elections scheduled for May in a peaceful atmosphere that guarantees political pluralism and impartiality. We think that women and young people should be included in all decision-making structures related to security sector reform, the national reconciliation process and institution-building. In this regard, we urge the Guinea-Bissau authorities to ensure the protection of human rights and fundamental freedoms, including the freedom of speech and information. Poland commends the important role of the Peacebuilding Commission in Guinea-Bissau in promoting good governance, political dialogue and national reconciliation. We also welcome the significant S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 14/20 18-04195 financial support of the Peacebuilding Fund (PBF) under the PBF Immediate Response Facility. Since the PBF began its activities, Poland has provided financial support to the Fund. Poland also supports the efforts of the Economic Community of West African States Mission in Guinea- Bissau (ECOMIB) as it is an important factor in reaching consensus solutions and cooperation. The decision of the ECOWAS Heads of State and Government, published on 4 February, imposing sanctions on those responsible for non-implementation of the Conakry Agreement is a step towards holding responsible those who are impeding a peaceful, consensus solution to the crisis. Due to the fragile security situation in the country, the presence of ECOMIB is most important. In this regard, we welcome the decision to extend ECOMIB's mandate until the end of March. Its role is essential, especially in view of the upcoming legislative elections. The mandate of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS) expires at the end of this month. The United Nations should remain engaged in efforts towards peace in the country and support ECOWAS efforts to resolve the political crisis. In conclusion, Poland encourages all the parties in Guinea-Bissau to engage in dialogue. We also express our full support for the Special Representative of the Secretary-General, Mr. Modibo Touré. We look forward to the upcoming UNIOGBIS mandate renewal. Mr. Umarov (Kazakhstan): We commend Special Representative of the Secretary-General Modibo Touré and Ambassador Mauro Vieira for their comprehensive briefings on the situation in Guinea-Bissau, and extend our full support for their commitment to facilitating a political solution to the crisis. Kazakhstan is deeply concerned by the protracted political stalemate in the country. We join others in calling on all stakeholders to engage in an inclusive political dialogue and immediately implement the Conakry Agreement and the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) road map to end the deadlock and restore institutional viability. It is therefore necessary to avoid differing interpretations of the Agreement. We commend the mediation efforts of ECOWAS, under the leadership of Presidents Faure Gnassingbé of Togo and Alpha Condé of Guinea, as well as by the other members of the group of international partner organizations on Guinea-Bissau. We have taken note of the decision of ECOWAS to impose targeted sanctions on those obstructing the implementation of the Conakry Agreement. We express hope that this decision will contribute to finding a solution to the crisis and strengthen democratic institutions and capacity-building for State organs. We welcome the extension until April of the mandate of ECOWAS Mission in Guinea-Bissau (ECOMIB), which plays a crucial role in ensuring stability in Guinea-Bissau, and urge international partners to continue supporting ECOMIB. The importance of peacebuilding, good offices and coordination efforts of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau cannot be underestimated. We therefore support the Secretary-General's recommendation to renew the mission's mandate for one more year. We also agree with his proposal to assess the mission, should the political impasse continue. We note the importance of holding legislative and presidential elections according to the constitutional time frame, and call on international partners to provide the necessary technical, logistical and financial support for the electoral process. The current political crisis may further fuel transnational organized crime, drug trafficking and terrorist activities. Therefore, increased national engagement and international support are critical to enhancing and extending reforms in the security, judicial and law enforcement sectors. In addition, the most effective measures must be sought to ensure the country's stability and resilience by increasing support for the education and health sectors, as well as the existing development plans, including Terra Ranka and the United Nations peacebuilding plan. In conclusion, we welcome the active engagement of the Women's Facilitation Group, and impress upon the national authorities the importance of ensuring the participation of women and young people in the political process at every stage and at all levels. Mrs. Gregoire Van Haaren (Netherlands): I would like first of all to thank the Special Representative of the Secretary-General, Mr. Modibo Touré, and the Permanent Representative of Brazil, Mr. Mauro Vieira, who spoke in his capacity as Chair of the Guinea- Bissau country configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission (PBC), for their briefings. 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 15/20 For years now, Guinea-Bissau has been marked by a protracted political crisis. In a region characterized by increasing attention to and respect for the rule of law, human rights and democracy, Guinea-Bissau continues to be out of step, as indicated once again in the latest report of the Secretary-General (S/2018/110). In the light of this, the Kingdom of the Netherlands wishes to underscore the following three points with regard to the situation in Guinea-Bissau. First, the Conakry Agreement of 2016 and the six-point road map should remain the basis for a political solution in Guinea-Bissau, and its provisions should honoured. Secondly, the diplomatic and political efforts of the region through the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) deserve the steadfast support of the United Nations, and particularly the Security Council. Thirdly, the role of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS) in the country at this critical juncture, with elections around the corner, is as important as ever. It is therefore imperative that its mandate be extended. First, with respect to the Conakry Agreement, almost a year and half has passed since the Agreement was concluded. The Kingdom of the Netherlands reiterates the centrality of the Agreement in peacefully resolving the current crisis, and urges the parties to abide by its contents. It is clear that an important roadblock with regard to its implementation is the appointment of a consensus Prime Minister. The need for this appointment has become increasingly urgent. With parliamentary elections on the horizon, it is imperative that these elections be held in a timely, transparent and inclusive manner. Secondly, with regard to support for ECOWAS, while the past six months were mainly characterized by the same intransigence as in previous reporting periods, concerted action and increased pressure on the part of the region, and ECOWAS in particular, could actually lead, when given the necessary support, to tangible progress in resolving the Bissau-Guinean crisis. Yesterday's decision of the African Union Peace and Security Council to support the efforts of ECOWAS is a case in point. The Secretary-General rightly observes in his report that the continuing efforts of ECOWAS to resolve the crisis are commendable. The Kingdom of the Netherlands would like to clearly point out that it supports and endorses ECOWAS mediation efforts and its imposition of sanctions. We welcome the ECOWAS unified action and believe that the presence of the ECOWAS Mission in Guinea-Bissau is vital to the stability of Guinea-Bissau. ECOWAS has shown before that, when united, it has the ability to act as the region's power broker, for example as it did in The Gambia. Like it did then, the Council should firmly support ECOWAS in taking up this role and responsibility, as it should in the case of any other regional organization in Africa that takes the lead in maintaining peace and security in the region. My third point is that ECOWAS cannot do this alone. We commend the African Union and the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries for their collaboration with the European Union and for the support they have brought and the constructive role they play. From the report of the Secretary General, it is evident that UNIOGBIS plays a vital role in Guinea- Bissau. With legislative elections scheduled for 2018 and presidential elections in 2019, the role of UNIOGBIS is more crucial than ever. We therefore call for a renewal of its mandate for no less than one year, in addition to allowing for longer-term planning, including setting more concrete priorities for the mission and making adaptations to meet specific needs. UNIOGBIS's convening power in Bissau remains essential, as will be its role in ensuring peaceful, free and democratic elections in Guinea-Bissau, as well as a smooth post-election process. Renewing the mandate for less than 12 months would send the wrong signal. In conclusion, sustained pressure to implement the Conakry Agreement, the maximum possible support to ECOWAS's ongoing efforts and measures and UNIOGBIS's continued support to the political process will be crucial factors in ending the deadlock in Guinea- Bissau, particularly in the light of the constitutionally mandated elections. Mr. Inchauste Jordán (Plurinational State of Bolivia) (spoke in Spanish): We appreciate the report of the Secretary-General (S/2018/110) presented by Mr. Modibo Touré, Special Representative of the Secretary-General and Head of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS), and the briefing by Ambassador Mauro Vieira of Brazil in his capacity as Chair of the Guinea- Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission. There has been no significant progress or visible improvement in the situation in Guinea-Bissau, where the general instability seems almost impervious to S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 16/20 18-04195 change, thereby jeopardizing the full implementation of the Conakry Agreement, which is unquestionably the fundamental framework for a peaceful solution to the crisis and for achieving sustainable and lasting peace there. In our view, the negative effects are likely to exacerbate matters if the parties cannot definitively condemn sectarian interests and contribute effectively to the mediation efforts and good offices of the relevant international, regional and subregional organizations. Bolivia firmly repudiates any action that could destabilize or jeopardize the ongoing dialogue and reconciliation process that has been established with the participation of all the parties concerned. We urge that the agreements be definitively consolidated in line with the inclusive national dialogue, which would enable Government members, the political parties represented in the National Assembly and every sector of civil society to arrive at a consensus and implement the agreements constructively through a legitimate commitment to achieving a lasting political and social solution whose sole aim is benefiting the people of Guinea-Bissau, in strict respect for their sovereignty, independence and territorial integrity. We acknowledge the active participation of the African Union, the Economic Community of West African States and its Mission in Guinea- Bissau, the European Union, the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries and UNIOGBIS, through its Special Representative, and their ongoing efforts to achieve a rapprochement between the conflicting parties. We believe that UNIOGBIS's work, focused on initiatives aimed at creating opportunities for dialogue and facilitating cooperation in the security and political sectors with the goal of forming an inclusive Government, must be reinforced. It will be crucial to increase the Office's capacity to use peaceful means to deal with the crisis if it is to have more effective and efficient results. We therefore support the recommendation in the Secretary-General's report that the mission's mandate be renewed for another year. We also commend the work being done by the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission, appropriately chaired by Brazil, and we emphasize the importance of strengthening its coordination, information exchange and active collaboration with the Security Council, in accordance with the relevant General Assembly and Security Council resolutions. We continue to encourage the initiative of the Women's Forum for Peace. The efforts of women in Guinea-Bissau to achieve a political solution shows that a gender perspective and female participation in mediation and dialogue at all levels are essential. In conclusion, we would like to reiterate once again that in a time of political, institutional and social crisis, ensuring the welfare of the population and especially its most vulnerable sectors should be the overriding interest guiding Guinea-Bissau on a path to permanent stability. Mr. Zhang Dianbin (China) (spoke in Chinese): China would like to thank Special Representative Touré and Ambassador Vieira, Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission, for their briefings. The situation in Guinea-Bissau has been generally stable in recent months, but it will still require all the parties to work together to meet each other halfway if they are to resolve the political impasse peacefully and as soon as possible. China hopes that the parties in Guinea-Bissau will consider the country's interests, intensify their dialogue and communication in order to bridge differences quickly, implement the Conakry Agreement as soon as possible, form an inclusive Government and resume nation-building efforts. Meanwhile, the international community should continue to follow the situation in Guinea-Bissau. China will continue to support the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau in exercising its good offices and conducting mediation efforts under Mr. Touré's leadership, with the aim of coordinating international support for Guinea-Bissau, promoting political dialogue and advancing the country's economic and social development. The international community should continue to support regional and subregional organizations such as the African Union, the Economic Community of West African States and the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries in their role as mediators, while maintaining respect for the sovereignty and territorial integrity of Guinea-Bissau and supporting the countries of the region in settling African issues through African means. Mr. Polyanskiy (Russian Federation) (spoke in Russian): We thank Mr. Modibo Touré, Special Representative of the Secretary-General, for his briefing on the evolving political situation in Guinea- Bissau. We take note of the report of the Secretary- 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 17/20 General (S/2018/110) and the briefing by Mr. Mauro Vieira, Permanent Representative of Brazil and Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission. Russia supports the efforts of the United Nations, the African Union, the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) and the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries to normalize the situation in Guinea-Bissau, which is undergoing a prolonged political, social and economic domestic crisis. We are concerned about the lack of tangible progress in implementing the Conakry Agreement. We want to emphasize how crucial the Agreement is to mitigating the political hostility and reducing Guinea- Bissau's potential for conflict. We urge the country's executive and legislative representatives to focus on forming an inclusive Government, introducing reforms, especially in the security sector and the Constitution, and increasing their joint efforts to prepare for parliamentary and presidential elections. It will be vital to strengthen the constitutional order and the rule of law and resolve the accumulating socioeconomic issues. We are pleased that the country's political forces continue to act with regard for the law and that the military has remained neutral. We have taken note of the ECOWAS communiqué of 4 February on imposing targeted sanctions on 19 members of Guinea-Bissau's political elite. Regarding the possibility of imposing similar measures based on the provisions of Security Council resolution 2048 (2012), we would like to point out that the resolution's main aim was restoring constitutional order, which in practical terms was achieved several years ago now. The result is that the resolution's sanctions measures are very outdated. In our opinion its listing criteria have little to do with Guinea-Bissau's current political situation, and in any case would not be usable against participants in the political process who are acting within the law. We are compelled to conclude that the opinions of the Secretary-General's report on the security sector situation give the impression that things have been left unsaid. It would have been more logical to discuss how the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS) is implementing the provisions of its mandate with regard to building Guinea-Bissau's capacity to combat transnational crime and drug trafficking, after describing the actual state of affairs in those areas. In general, given the overall situation in Guinea- Bissau, we are willing to consider the Secretary- General's proposal to extend UNIOGBIS's mandate. However, we believe that the Special Representative should focus not only on helping the people of Guinea-Bissau emerge from their political deadlock and preparing for the parliamentary elections in May but also on effectively addressing the root causes of the problems in Guinea-Bissau, which lie in its Constitution's structural contradictions. If the work of constitutional reform is not completed by the start of the next electoral cycle, the country risks encountering the same problems with the new parliament and President. The President (spoke in Arabic): I shall now make a statement in my capacity as representative of Kuwait. At the outset, I join other Council members in thanking the Special Representative of the Secretary- General, Mr. Modibo Touré, for his valuable briefing. I would also like to express my appreciation to Ambassador Mauro Vieira for his briefing as the chief of Guinea-Bissau Configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission. We commend their efforts to support security, stability and socioeconomic development in Guinea-Bissau. We have been following the recent political developments there and regret the fact that none of the provisions of the Conakry Agreement have been implemented since signing it in October 2016. It is unacceptable that there has so far been no appointment of Prime Minister who enjoys consensus by the relevant two parties, which is critical to implementing other items of the Agreement. The situation in Guinea-Bissau differs from other cases before the Security Council in having no security aspects. Unfortunately, however, the impasse has lasted more than a year, and it is the people of Guinea-Bissau who are suffering the consequences. In that regard, we commend the steps that the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) has taken to advance the political process, including measures for the imposition of sanctions on those obstructing the implementation of the Conakry Agreement, as well as the decision to extend the mandate of its Mission in Guinea-Bissau until the end of March. We want to emphasize the relevance of the role of such regional organizations in resolving regional issues. The efforts of the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau (UNIOGBIS) S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 18/20 18-04195 deserve support, since it is dealing with a difficult and complicated political situation. However, we hope that it will be able to make progress during the coming period with respect to conducting legislative elections this year and presidential elections next. The legislative and presidential elections, to be held in 2018 and 2019 respectively, must take place within the specific time frame. We therefore call on the United Nations Integrated Peacebuilding Office in Guinea-Bissau, along with all stakeholders in Guinea- Bissau, such as the European Union, the African Union, ECOWAS and the Community of Portuguese-speaking Countries, to spare no efforts towards that end. We also call on the Government of Guinea-Bissau to ensure its citizens' full participation in the elections, as well as security and freedom of expression and assembly for all. The cooperation between UNIOGBIS and civil-society organizations in promoting and developing the role of women in Guinea-Bissau is very positive. We hope that UNIOGBIS will make a greater effort to guarantee the full participation of all components of the society, especially women and young people, in the next political process and will continue to promote other aspects of its mandate until the current impasse is resolved. In conclusion, we reiterate the importance of the Conakry Agreement as the basic reference for resolving this political crisis in Guinea-Bissau, and the efforts of ECOWAS and President Alpha Condé of Guinea to advance the political process in order to maintain the security and stability of Guinea-Bissau and the region. We stand ready to cooperate with Côte d'Ivoire in preparing a draft resolution for the extension of the UNIOGBIS mandate, in response to a request by the Secretary-General. We also support the issuance of a Press Statement to clarify the unified position of the Council regarding the situation in Guinea-Bissau. I now resume my functions as President of the Council. I give the floor to the representative of Guinea-Bissau. Mr. Delfim da Silva (Guinea-Bissau) (spoke in French): I thank you, Mr. President, for inviting my delegation to the Security Council table and for giving me the floor. I would like to take this opportunity to congratulate your country, Kuwait, on its assumption of the presidency of the Security Council for the month of February. We wish you success in your work. I would like to thank Mr. Modibó Touré, Special Representative of the Secretary-General for Guinea- Bissau, for his presentation today of the report of the Secretary-General (S/2018/110). I would also like to thank Ambassador Mauro Vieira of Brazil once again for his constructive statement on behalf of peacebuilding and constitutional and democratic order in Guinea-Bissau. And I would like to express our gratitude to all the Ambassadors of States members of the Security Council for their attention to my country, Guinea-Bissau. The political crisis in Guinea-Bissau did not begin with the signing of the Conakry Agreement in October 2016, but much earlier. The Conakry Agreement represents a step in the right direction for resolving the crisis by consensus. In the past 15 months, the two main parties — the African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cape Verde (PAIGC) and the Party for Social Renewal (PRS) — have repeatedly and publicly expressed their disagreement on a crucial point of the Agreement, which is having consensus on choosing a candidate for the post of Prime Minister. If a consensus was reached, the agreed candidate would then be appointed by the President of the Republic, in line with the Constitution. The PAIGC states that there was such a consensus in Conakry. The PRS, for its part, affirms that there was not. Fifteen months later, the lack of consensus has prevented the appointment of a Prime Minister, which must be consensus-based. How can the President appoint a consensus Prime Minister without, at the very least, the prior agreement of the two largest political parties? In short, the crisis over the consensus is really what has paralysed the Conakry Agreement and is prolonging the stalemate in the 15-month political crisis in Guinea-Bissau. The question is how to overcome the crisis concerning the consensus. Some believe that the imposition of sanctions will be conducive to it. We are not sure of that. Sanctions are unlikely to defuse a crisis and can even be counterproductive. It is important to bear in mind that while it is easy to adopt sanctions, it is much more difficult to impose a consensus. In any case, continuing to seek a solution to the crisis is clearly the most important thing that we must do. We need a compromise solution, a credible name, a person whose academic, political and professional 14/02/2018 The situation in Guinea-Bissau S/PV.8182 18-04195 19/20 background can bring about such a compromise. We need someone who, without being the favourite candidate of the PAIGC or the PRS, has a background that would enable him to bring the parties together and thereby reach a compromise. The recent appointment to the post of Prime Minister of a PAIGC leader, the engineer Artur Silva, a former Minister of four Government departments — Fisheries, Defence, Education and Foreign Affairs — suggests that he is the right person to help bring about such a compromise. Moreover, after his appointment, Silva was re-elected to the higher bodies of the PAIGC, its Central Committee and Political Bureau — at the party's most recent congress, which ended a few days ago, proving that he has earned the political confidence of the party's most important bodies. Prime Minister Silva has already held working meetings in Bissau, which I would say are encouraging, with all the parties to the Conakry Agreement — the Ambassadors of Nigeria, Senegal, China, the Gambia and the representative of the Economic Community of West African States in Guinea-Bissau. Finally, through the appointment of a senior PAIGC leader, justice can be done to the party that won the last legislative elections. But above all, there will be no losers, since the PRS will be guaranteed strong representation in a Government of inclusion. This is not a zero-sum game. Under this principle of compromise, which allows a certain degree of flexibility regarding the principle of consensus, there will undoubtedly be a winner — my country, Guinea-Bissau. In conclusion, I reiterate our thanks to the members and want to assure the Council that Guinea-Bissau will continue to count on their support in these difficult times for the sake of civil peace, political stability and solidarity. The President (spoke in Arabic): I now give the floor to the representative of Togo. Mr. Kpayedo (Togo) (spoke in French): I would first like to thank you, Mr. President, for the opportunity to address the Council once again on the situation in Guinea-Bissau, in my capacity as Coordinator of the Ambassadors of the member countries of the Economic Community of West African States (ECOWAS) that are accredited to the United Nations. I also want to thank the Secretary-General of the United Nations for his report on the situation in Guinea- Bissau (S/2018/110), presented today by Mr. Modibo Touré, his Special Representative, whom we welcome here, along with his team, and whose briefing has provided us with a thorough picture of the situation in that country. Lastly, I would like to thank Mr. Mauro Vieira for his commitment and efforts in his capacity as Chair of the Guinea-Bissau configuration of the Peacebuilding Commission. Since it began, the crisis in Guinea-Bissau has continued to be a source of great concern for the Heads of State of West Africa, who are therefore sparing no effort to arrive at a favourable and lasting outcome. This issue has been on the agenda of every recent meeting of our subregional organization's Summit. In my last statement to the Council in August (see S/PV.8031), I discussed the trampling of the implementation of the Conakry Agreement, which led to the possibility of having recourse to the ECOWAS sanctions. Since then, the impasse is still there, despite the proposal for a new road map by President José Mário Vaz at the conclusion of the fifty-second Ordinary Session of Authority of Heads of State and Government of ECOWAS, held in Abuja on 16 and 17 December 2017, and reaffirmed in Addis Ababa at the ECOWAS Extraordinary Session held on 27 January, on the margins of the 30th Ordinary Session of the African Union Assembly. In that regard, the President-in-Office of ECOWAS, Mr. Faure Essozimna Gnassingbé, in consultation with his peers, dispatched a mission of the ministerial sanctions committee to Guinea-Bissau on 31 January and 1 February 2018, led by Mr. Robert Dussey, Togo's Minister for Foreign Affairs, Cooperation and African Integration. Its purpose was to assess the progress made by the parties to the crisis in implementing the Agreement and to report to the ECOWAS Heads of State on the potential consequences if the stalemate persisted. Following that report, the Heads of State and Government of ECOWAS, in view of the fact that no significant progress has been seen in the implementation of the Conakry Agreement despite ongoing mediation and calling on all of Guinea-Bissau's political leaders to show their sense of responsibility and respect for their country's Constitution through a frank and inclusive dialogue, decided to activate the sanctions mechanisms against individuals and organizations that are hindering a settlement of the crisis, with the aim of promoting the restoration of democratic governance and respect for the rule of law in Guinea-Bissau. As a result, 19 political figures have been subject to sanctions since 4 February, in accordance with our S/PV.8182 The situation in Guinea-Bissau 14/02/2018 20/20 18-04195 decision 01/2018, on individual sanctions designed to promote the restoration of democratic governance and respect for the rule of law in Guinea-Bissau. The list is not exhaustive,and the monitoring committee for the implementation of sanctions — composed of Togo, Guinea and the ECOWAS Commission — therefore reserves the right to revise it as the situation on the ground changes. Here I should point out, as the representative of Côte d'Ivoire noted earlier, that these sanctions were established through ECOWAS's Supplementary Act of 17 February 2012 concerning sanctions regimes against Member States that do not honour their obligations to the Community, and are based on article 45 of the ECOWAS Protocol on Democracy and Good Governance. They include suspended participation in Community activities, and a travel ban and financial assets freeze for those listed and their families, wherever they may be. The sanctions cannot be effectively implemented without the assistance of the United Nations and other multilateral and regional organizations. In that regard, I would like to take this opportunity to call for multifaceted support to ECOWAS in implementing these measures, which we hope will help to create an atmosphere conducive to the restoration of dialogue among the people of Guinea-Bissau, with a view to resolving this political and institutional impasse, which has lasted too long. In conclusion, I would once again like to invite all the parties to the Guinea-Bissau crisis to show a spirit of compromise, responsibility and openness to a peaceful, negotiated and lasting solution to this dispute, which hampers development efforts in the country and therefore in the entire subregion, which is still dealing with persistent security challenges. The meeting rose at 5 p.m.

Issue 52.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1993. ; for r elig ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 4 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 Washington, 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 $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 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 J~an Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER4 contents 486 feature The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future Mary.Jo Weaver gives contemporary meaning to the legacy of Angela Merici and the Ursulines. prayer 503 Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ shares the struggle of a desert-day experience. 507 Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Robert McCown SJ explains how Christian Zen, or centering prayer, as an ancillary to the Spiritual Exercises offers spiritual repose. 519 God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Mary Corona FMDM shares her experience of God's working in a thirty-day retreat. 532 541 548 spiritual life What Trouble Is Tad Dunne ponders how coping with trouble allows us to find energies that produce growth. Prayer, Memories, and God Theresa Mancuso suggests a fascinating relationship between recalling joyful and painful memories and praying to God. Adding Up 75 Years Vera Gallagher RGS adds up the balance sheet of God's love in her own life history. 482 Review for Religious 553 566 574 apostolate Prayer and Work, Mostly in South Africa Timothy Stanton CR believes that intercession is the main respon-sibility of the church in the painful process of bringing a new South Africa to birth. Religious Life in West Africa 1966-1990 Martin O'Reilly CFC offers an outline of the development of reli-gious life from foreign-born to local-born in West Africa. The Sanctification of Their Neighbor Thaddeus J. Kazanecki CO examines some characteristics of the Italian confraternal life within which St. Philip Neri founded the Congregation of the Oratory. 584 596 6O2 610 religious life Culture and Contemplative Community Marie Beha OSC reflects on how living the Franciscan charism in the United States can be ddngerous both for U.S. Poor Clares and U.S. culture. Canonical Room for Charisms William F. Hogan CSC emphasizes the uniqueness to be fostered by each particular religious institute for the good of the church's mission. Journal of a Novice Director Melannie Svoboda SND explores the mind and heart of a novice director through excerpts that could be found in a journal. A Family Business: Management in Religious Congregations Dennis Newton SVD spells out some practical directives for deal-ing with complications arising from interaction between religious-congregation members and nonmembers in the workplace. departments 484 Prisms 616 Canonical Counsel: The Synod on Consecrated Life 622 Book Reviews 37-uly-Aug~st 1993 483 prisms A seminarian recently told me, in a certain exasperated way, of his frustration about political label-ing in the church. Informally representing others of sim-ilar age, he pointed out that he has known no other church than the post-Vatican II church. An English-language liturgy, a catechetical training distinguished more by ques-tions than by answers, parish organizations still in devel-oping stages, a school faculty composed mostly of lay teachers, along with a few religious women and men not appearing all that different in dress or in lifestyle from their lay counterparts--these are the only memories of church that he has. He has no more nostalgia for the prac-tices of the church of earlier years than he has for the cel-ebrated golden age of radio before the advent of television. His complaint is that any expressed desires for con-nectives to a pre-Vatican II church immediately raise the likelihood of himself and other people his age being called "neoconservatives." These thirtysomething people and younger want rather to explore more fully their heritages of Catholic .faith and practice. They have no battles to fight over the rigidities and meaninglessness that were part of some Catholic devotions and regulations of the recent, past. They are gra,teful for the freedom and respon-sibility which "older" church members have not always felt comfortable with. They appreciate the maturing fits-and- starts of an American hierarchy in providing leader-ship in their letters on peace and justice and on economics and even in the failed .attempt to address the role of women in society and the church. They see as well-mean-ing but fearful the attempts at control and centralization made by what they might want to label as a "conserva- 484 Review for Religious tive" Vatican bureaucracy. But they are nevertheless looking, sometimes toward the past, for something more in their church than they have at present. They would want, in Jesus' imagery, to be like the "head of a household who can bring from his store-room both the new and the old" (Mt 13:52). If I have rather faithfully understood and presented a major concern of significant numbers of younger members in the church, I believe that their complaint is legitimate. The necessity for an in-depth contact with and study of our rich heritages has never been more apparent. We are all-too-aware of the old truism that unless we know our past we are condemned to keep repeating it. We in the church are also well aware that the danger of being prisoners of the past is all-too-real, with the embarrassing irrel-evance of various "churchy" issues in the face of modern world problems and technology. So for us to know our heritages is to have the strength of consistency with our past but also the stim-ulus to move into a creative future where our faith is a light for appropriate decision and action. Our feature article, "The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future" by Mary Jo Weaver, is one attempt to make contact with a heritage in this kind of significant way. I hope that this article will serve as a model for people to study and write engagingly about other heritages, with implications for the present and future opportunities of those very heritages. The women and men who lived our heritages before they were heritages make vivid the values necessary for today's Christian living and the courage it takes to live these values in the face of difficulties, including at times the opposition of good people. This journal has a privileged role to play in bringing people into greater contact with the good-ness within so many spiritual families that live together in our church. In coming to know more fully the relevance of our spiri-tual heritages, we dan expect that our liturgical and prayer practices will be more life-giving, our ministries inspired by gospel beati-tudes will be more clearly focused, and our lives supported in Christian community will be more vigorous. Vatican II and the subsequent years have given the church the occasion for straightening out the gospel storeroom. Now we, the church members, need to enrich our faith lives by com-ing to know and use its treasures, both new and old. David L. Fleming SJ yuly-A1lgust 1993 485 feature MARY JO WEAVER The Most Adventurous of Nuns: Ursulines and the Future I found the title of my talk in the first sentence of Agnes Repplier's biography of M~re Marie: "Of course," she says, "the Ursulines were the most adventurous of nuns." As I skimmed the book, I found phrases like "the most adven-turous of patronesses," the "robust intelligence and fear-less imagination" of the founder, and the "constitutional fearlessness and valorous spirit" of the first missionary to North America. The women most often mentioned in Ursuline history--St. Ursula, Angela Merici, and Mhre Marie--were all formidable figures, and as I read about them I was wafted back into a romantic past when pio-neering women were intrepid and when everything worked out all right in the end. Although the women associated with Ursuline history were not feminists in any modern sense of the word, I wondered what it would mean to attempt a feminist reading of their lives. I was drawn most powerfully into Angela's life, but not before the other two made me stop and take notice. The medieval legend of Ursula as a graceful, beauti-ful, wise, cultured scholar whose learning amazed the doc- Mary Jo Weaver is professor of religious studies and women's studies at Indiana University in Bloomington. Author of Springs of Water in a Dry Land: Catholic I, Vomen and Spiritual Survival (Beacon Press, 1993) and other works, she spent ten years explor-ing feminist issues in the American Catholic Church and has recently begun a long-term research project on traditionalist Catholics in the United States. Her address is 1030 S. Mitchell; Bloomington, Indiana 47401. 486 Review for Religiot~s tors of the church explains why she inspired so many paintings and poems. The bare outlines of her mythical life--martyred along with eleven .thousand virgins with whom she was wandering around barbarian Europe--are fanciful, to say the least, but I do not think it troublesome that the historical facts about her are rather dim. True or false, her legends shaped part of the Catholic tradition and tell us something about the roles women were able to play in the medieval imagination. That she was a virgin, the patron of innocent girls, and a charismatic figure and leader even though she was single--neither married nor in a convent--was obviously attractive to Angela. When I moved to the stories surrounding M~re Marie, leader of the first Ursuline mission in North America, I found genuine historical material used by her biographer in a skilled portrait. Repplier's biography can be summarized in this sentence: "She had escaped every groove in which she had been imprisoned by circumstances." It is a marvelous summary of the life of an ordi-nary woman responding to extraordinary demands, and that seems to be an Ursuline theme, at least in the North American context, where Ursulines were on the scene early and seemed to thrive in the most desperate of situations. Male historians, who typically pay little attention to women, unite in praise for the teaching charism of the Ursulines and their civilizing power on the frontier. There is more, of course, but the bottom line from the his-torians is a witness to dedicated purpose: "The development most distinctively American was the role in educating the young assumed so largely by a myriad of women's communities, begin-ning with the Ursulines in New Orleans in 1727." These same historians do not make much of the fact that the founder of the Ursulines was an independent and rather remarkable woman sur-rounded by strong, inventive women. Those attributes attracted me, however, and it became clear to me that the best way to think about Ursulines was to get to know their founder. Besides, there seemed to be excellent sources of information: well-researched critical biographies, spiritual reflections, historical notes, and modern symposium notes say something about the kind of energy Angela Merici has inspired in her followers. About Angela Merici, there seems to be solid historical ground for an interpretation, but as with the stories of other founders and other times, the pious imagination has sometimes filtered the facts. For example, Angela is remembered ih connection with the July-Aug'ust 1993 487 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns education of girls and is sometimes pictured as energetically open-ing schools; but she neither spent her time founding academies, nor was she drawn primarily to an apostolate of education. Her pioneering spirit was directed towards the moral support of young girls and the regeneration of society as it could be accomplished through a formation program within family settings. Still, because she established a company of independent women at a time when things were astonishingly bad for women, Angela is an example of the "theoretical feminism" that some critics believe has always existed even though it was seldom successful. Theoretical femi-nism means the dedication of women to the abolition of hie(ar-chics, especially those that put women under the direction of men. That description appears to fit Angela's context, and the fact that she tried her experiment during the Renaissance makes her case even stronger. One of the salient points made by feminist historians for the last twenty-five years has to do with periodization. The ways we mark historical periods have been set by men and often mark the realities of women's lives. The late Joan Kelly ~nade this argu-ment with specific reference to Renaissance Italy, Angela's time and place. According to Kelly,.there were no gains for women during the Renaissance. In fact, the age was marked by a restric-tion of the scope of women's powers. Female sexuality, women's economic and political roles, their cultural power in shaping the outlook of their societies, and the ideology about women all underwent profound changes, mostly to the diminishment of women. Yet Angela acted as if the subordination of women was not an issue for her. The "new subordination of women to the inter-ests of husbands and male-dominated groups" that went hand in hand with Renaissance "progress" did not seem to touch her per-sonally though it may account for the rather quick enclosure of the women Angela hoped could live a more autonomous existence. Like fascinating women everywhere, Angela regularly over-turns predictable assmnptions about her. The woman who gath-ered the company later valorized as "the most adventurous of nuns" seems to have been the most reluctant of founders. The founder who has gone into history as one of the world's great pioneers of education seems not to have been that at all, and the visionary who heard a voice from heaven in her teens finally got around to acting on it when she was an old woman. Angela's life fits no .pattern that I can find unless it might be 488 Review for Religious that of Dorothy Day, who summarized her own life's work by say-ing that she never planned to do very much at all. "Opportunities presented themselves and we responded," she used to say, refus-ing to be relegated to the musty shelves of sainthood, out of ordi-nary reach. Dorothy Day is not a perfect parallel figure for understanding Angela, but can help us to perceive the more or less prosaic ways in which ordinary people can be propelled into extraordinary activity. Almost everything we know about Angela Merici happened in Brescia, a small but very volatile city. In 1401 it had been dubbed "the little Rome" because it had 70 churches and 50 monasteries for a population of 16,000, yet sixty years later the apocalyptic reformer Savanarola preached sermons there evoking visions of hellfire and damnation to inspire a change of heart in a morally bankrupt population. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of episcopal leadership. Paulo Zane, absentee bishop there for fifty years (1481-1531), seemed to be in a contest with corrupt popes, cardinals, and priests to see who could lead the most lav-ish and egocentric life. Perhaps Brescia was simply unlucky in terms of its geographical location; it was used, stomped on, and overrun by various armies during the complex territorial wars that dominated the region in the late 15th and early 16th cen-turies. When the French sacked the city in 1512, four years before Angela arrived, the torture and killing of local citizens was so ferocious that all of Europe was shocked by it. If we think of mod-ern- day Somalia, or parts of Latin America or the Middle East, we would not be far off in our analogy. The context for Angela's life, therefore, was collapse and tran-sition. The medieval models for politics and religion were not working, but nothing better was yet in place--a time, in other words, not entirely unlike our own. It was also a time of rampant corruption and moral gridlock, in which those "in charge" appeared uninterested in the daily spiritual li;¢es of ordinary peo-ple. Outside of the 10th century, it is hard to imagine a worse set of popes, one after another, than those who occupied the Holy See then; nearly half of the men who~e stories make up Chamberlain's The Bad Popes ruled during Angela's lifetime. Religious life, although abundantly present, was scandalous rather than edifying, creating a kind of spiritual vacuum for a scream of protest to fill. And, of course, someone did produce such a scream. A young Augustinian monk teaching Scripture at Wittenberg protested .~uly-Aug'ust 1993 4.89 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Charlotte Lichtblau vehemently, but that is a different story. It is not clear how sharply the Lutheran remonstrances touched Angela herself. Many of the reformers of the 16th century--Teresa of Avila, for example-- were so taken up with their own missions that they appear to belong to a climate of religious reform that has very little to do with the great Protestant revolt that began a year after Angela arrived in her new home. Still, ten years later, in 1527, a major anti-Catholic demonstration in Brescia signified, among other things, that people there were in a state of spiritual uproar. 490 Review for Religious To understand Angela's context, therefore, we have to imag-ine a situation that felt generally hopeless and beyond control. The northern Italian borders were not secure, and towns like Brescia were a kind of permanent war zone, not always the scene of bloodshed, but sufficiently precarious to raise the disease rate, encourage prostitution, destabilize families, and generally scuttle normal life. Religious leaders were nowhere to be seen unless one happened to be in Rome attending the theater. The streets of Brescia in 1532 probably resembled Times Square in 1993. They were full of con men sensing opportunities, young women selling themselves for their next meal, old men with diseases or old war wounds and no place to go, and ragged children darting from one bad situation to the next. Acting courageously in this little scene were some dedicated young men operating hospitals for "incur-ables" and a steadfast group of young women whose desire to help young girls led them to imagine themselves working together in a new way. What did these young idealists have in common besides a lively conscience and a desire for spirituality in action? They were all friends of or drawn to Angela Merici, an efficient, maternal woman who, by all accounts, had a magnetic personal-ity shaped by personal sanctity. She had even, so it was said, once had some kind of "vision." As I noted earlier, whatever the facts of her life, Angela Merici is not typical in any way. The outline of her visionary experience-- adolescent orphan girl sees something and claims to be instructed by it--is a standard story; but what Angela did with it is not. Her modesty in claiming very little for herself because of her experi-ence reminds me of Dame Julian of Norwich, who after a series of remarkable visions went on with a modest, reclusive life, recounting them to a scribe only much later. As an adolescent, Angela apparently had a profound religious experience--a dream or a vision--which she believed gave shape and direction to her life; but she did not immediately run to a bishop to disclose its contents, nor did she speculate about the concrete terms into which it might eventually be cast. She simply went about her life as a third-order Franciscan, te.aching catechism in her own village and willing to go wherever she was needed--to Brescia, as it turns out, when she was in her forties. Unless we count a pious life as extraordinary, she did not do anything out of the ordinary there. Perhaps the very routineness of her life calmed people: At the same time, the little things she .~uly-August 1993 491 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Like any normal prophet, she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling her. did made an impressibn on those around her. She lived a selfless life in the company of rich people and brought the attractive wis-dom of common sense to a besieged.situation. She apparently felt secure enough to pursue her lifestyle choice of virginity in the home of a wealthy young merchant, living in his house for more than a dozen years. She was an ascetic who was surrounded by friends, many of them men. She was a good organizer and pitched in to do what needed to be done--nursing, counseling, pro-tecting children, consoling the bereaved--but also apparently felt free enough to go galli-vanting off to Jerusalem, to Rome, and to Varolla, a kind of Holy Land theme park in the Alps. How it became clear to her that it was time to act upon her early vision and gather "a company of consecrated virgins" around her is not Clear to me, especially since I see her vari-ous trips as flights from that call. Every time someone called a meeting, she disappeared! In 1522, when she was in her early fifties, Angela went on a pilgrimage to Mantua, to the tomb of Blessed Osanna Andreasi, a third-order Dominican. Why? Did she simply want to honor this holy woman, or was she begin-ning to suspect that she herself was gifted beyond what she had up to now felt to be ordinary abilities? Did she hope by honoring Osanna, a new and popular cult figure, that she could elude her own fate, like Moses telling God that, in comparison with the articulate Aaron, he was simply not the man for the job? It seems reasonable to assume that she experienced some kind of inner turmoil and was seeking refuge from it. In that way--like any normal prophet, with the exception of Isaiah--she was reluctant to believe that God was directly calling bet. Whether at Mantua she was seeking refuge or confirmation, however, she did not quit running away. Her next pilgrimage, in 1524 to Jerusalem, is what we might expect from such a woman in those times, and having an on-site episode of hysterical illness was not untypical. People in the highly charged atmosphere of a major place of pilgrimage often have unex-pected or frightening physical experiences, but let us examine this moment more closely. She did not, like Margery Kempe, faint or have visions of herself assisting at the birth of Jesus; she did not, like 492 Review for Religious Felix Fabri, feel as if her whole life had been turned upside down. She went blind and so could not see some of the holy places. When I read that story, I wonder what she did not want to see. On her way back from Jerusalem, she stopped awhile in Venice, where city officials begged her to stay and administer a hospital for incurables there, an honor and a challenge to which she responded by fleeing quickly and returning to Brescia. Running away from this opportunity would have made sense if she returned to Brescia to take on similar responsibilities there, but she did not. She was scarcely unpacked when she booked pas-sage on another pilgrimage, this time to Rome and the celebration of the jubilee year (1525). I read this activity as a voyage of internal discovery. Those attuned to their inner voices know that "you can run, but you can-not hide," something An\gela was trying to do in ever more press- xng ways. Whatever her reasons for going to Rome, once there she managed to get an audience with Pope Clement VII. It is hard to imagine this event without the kind of bribery required by most Renaissance popes, so if she managed to see the pope without such machinations, I daresay he already knew about her and saw how she might be useful to him. In any case, if she wanted the solace of a papal blessing, she received another scare instead: he begged her to stay in Rome and administer a hospital there. Here the story gets even more dramatic because, in the face of a papal request, Angela fled lest she be compelled by obedience. Other popes might have pursued her, but Clement was not a man of swift decision. His nickname--"I will and I won't"--was given to him because be was a notorious temporizer, agonizingly slow to make any decision. His disadvantage was her victory. She got herself back to Brescia and away from Rome. Perhaps she imagined she was now safe and sound. ¯ What can one make of all this flight? I see a woman who probably knew she had led a useful life, who was self-assured and willing to help out where she was needed, but not eager to fit into a role she could not yet imagine for herself. The idea that she might be more than a reasonably pious and useful woman and the fact that young people involved in arduous and creative cor-poral works of mercy gathered around her as if around a mother hen may have strained her .self-understanding. Maybe she was just tired--she was in her late fifties--maybe she was just stub-born. I find her self-possessed, unwilling to act until she herself j~uly-August 1993 493 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns was clear about what she might do and how she might act to con-trol her own future. In "running away" she found the time and space to begin to come to terms with it. It is fascinating to see this middle-aged woman struggle with the logical implications of her own life. She had been in Brescia for nearly fifteen years, living a prayerful life and doing good works. People thought her so wise and caring that they called her madre (a tide reserved for holy women and nuns), and from morn-ing to night she was called on by people seeking her advice or drawn to her sensible simplicity, A group of courageous young people who had their own ideas about how to live the gospel in a forlorn world were drawn to her spiritual power. And an increas-ingly clear apostolate, dedicated to the care and protection of young women, had been staring beseechingly at her since Elizabeth Prato, a friend young enough and devoted enough to be her daughter, started working with lost girls in 1522. Vv'hy, then, the reluctance? And why do I find it comforting? Without intending to be cryptic, I think it is middle age, Angela's and my own. Had she been in her twenties, perhaps she would have dived right into the creative community she founded, as many of today's middle-aged sisters, in their youth, were drawn into the irresistible energy of religious life with its sacrifices and promises. But, like many of us today, she was in her fifties, not so quick to act, distracted by alternatives and the cautions that come with age. Maybe she just wanted to live out her days in the mod-est way she had been doing. After all, it is reasonable at this age to be tending the gardens of one's own soul and unreasonable to be launching a major life project. Maybe the call which had come with such clarity many years earlier now seemed distant or unreal, impractical in the present situation. VVhen we are young, the idea that God wants us for something specific seems only natural. All the scary choices--marriage, motherhood, convent life, profes-sional training--are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. But when we are older, the same idea can make us wonder if we are imagining things; we see all the reasons not to believe what we are hearing. In such cases the mysterious ways that God is famous for often manifest themselves in some dramatic way. For Angela, not unlike many of the saints, illness was a factor. Fleeing again in 1529 to Cremona in order to get away from political intrigue and an active war zone, she became gravely ill. And here, I think, she 494 Review for Religio~ts encountered an interesting temptation that may have looked like the answer to her problems. Illness and death beckoned as an option, the last flight, the final escape. She apparently thought that she might really die there and--whether with drama or res-ignation I cannot say--took to her deathbed. Yet, when one of her young supporters composed her epi-taph and read it to her, she bounced back, not as ready to go to heaven as she imagined. Again, I think, she shows the wisdom of age, for it is only when we are very young that we find a "longing for death" something to nurture in our-selves. Angela, hearing her epitaph, dis-covered new energy in herself. She still may not have been ready to lead a new movement, but neither was she ready to be led into eternity to the strains of In Paradisum. Whatever happened to her during those days in Cremona, she was resolved, at the end of this exile, to put down her traveling staff and follow the spirit she had been running from. She made one more short trip to Varolla that winter, to renew her memories of the Holy Land-- a symbol for her sense of purpose--then returned to Brescia and moved into a small room in Elizabeth Prato's house near the church of St. Afra. Now nearly sixty, Angela tucked into this new stage of her life with determination. She lived even more austerely, spent more time in prayer, and began to instruct her spiritual daughters. It is probably only a geographical coincidence that Prato's house was near the church of St. Afra, a 4th-century prostitute who achieved sainthood through martyrdom; but it is interesting that the early work of Angela's group was partly directed at.opening possibili-ties for "penitent women," a euphemism .for prostitutes. By 1532 Angela had gathered a small group around her and developed a rather extraordinary and yet quite simple idea: all the women would engage in an exterior apostolate and lead vir-ginal and virtuous lives, but would take no vows. In its broad out-lines this plan is reminiscent of the Beguines, religious associations of women begun in the 12th century in Belgium and the All the scary choices-- marriage, motherhood, convent life, professional training-- are made with the blessed ignorance of youth. July-Augt~t 1993 495 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns Netherlands. Their success in the 14th century did not impress itself upon the clerical mind so much as the fact that they took no vows and were not subject to the rules of any order. Did Angela know about them? Was she attracted by their relative autonomy? Did she think their exp+riment was worth another try? Her idea was so simple and so revolutionary that it boggled the minds of the authorities: women would commit themselves to an apostolate--the care, protection, and education of girls--and they would promise lifelong fidelity to consecrated virginity. We may consider how her plan might have threatened men. Pious men would see women able to lead useful virtuous lives without their advice, and "men of the world," accustomed to pursuing an occasional dalliance, might now have to sneak into the house late at night, only to be met with the soulful glances of an at-home daughter vowed to virginity. Angela's notion of governance was also disturbing. However much she said about obedience to authorities, the Holy Spirit was her real teacher, and so she stipulated for her daughters. Her desire to trust the activity of the Holy Spirit in the individual heart, however, did not appeal to male authorities. On the con-trary, it frightened them profoundly. Charles Borromeo--still in diapers when Angela died--found the idea of an unmediated Holy Spirit speaking directly to the heart and conscience of individual women wildly dangerous. The changes made by this young arch-bishop of Milan in Angela's Rule are not surprising to anyone with even a minimalist feminist consciousness. Borromeo was a man of his times; Angela was a woman ahead of hers. I find it fascinating that, unlike some other reformers and founders such as Teresa of Avila, Angela did not invoke the com-mands of Christ to carry out her purpose or to solidify her sense of authority. She was sure that what she was doing was made pos-sible by and would be sustained by God, but she exhibited no need to couch her ideas in the language of mystical certainty. Perhaps because she was single and surrounded by eager disci-ples she had no need to talk about divine directives. Perhaps she did not have any. Her ideas about community seem to follow directly from her own experience, an extension of her practical holiness. The memory of her vision--by now no more than a vague request to a bereaved girl--and a st.eady relationship with God were enough for her. The practicality and ordinariness of her plans made her an 496 Review for Religious inspired leader with amazing insight into the needs of women. The frescoes she commissioned for her oratory--the meeting space and prayer room for her young group--constitute a kind of "womanspace" in which her young followers could imagine new possibilities for themselves. Angela's frescoes gave her fol-lowers examples of spiritual heroism. Looking around in that room, young women saw Angela's models. Ursula, Elizabeth, Paula, Eustochium, and, by some accounts, Catherine of Alexandria make exquisite sense and testify to the power of Angela's self-concept. She did not choose prepubescent martyrs or women noted for fasting and silence; she selected strong, bright, self-confident women. It is worth lingering on this point. Although the Catholic tra-dition has a long list of impressive women saints, women whose sanctity rests on suffering, self-effacement, and masochistic penances often predominate. That Angela did not choose such models for her girls speaks eloquently, not only to Angela's time, but also to our own. The women in her murals are all.mature, educated, learned, single, undaunted by male threats or violence, and autonomous in their fashion. Like Angela herself, these women exhibit an inner certainty and independence, making no great claims for themselves, but creating atmospheres of respect by their clearheaded, fearless lives. Even if we look at the under-side of their stories--Elizabeth's sick relationship with her spiri-tual director, for example--the last line of the story is one of strength rather than brokenness. All these women are virgins-- some belatedly, some, like Ursula, spectacularly--and all com-bine devotion to learning with lives of Christlike action. Within two years of the setting up of the oratory, Angela and twenty-eight of the young women who regularly visited that col-orful space signed a book promising to serve faithfully as members of the company of St. Ursula. Within five years that number more than quintupled, and Angela died, leaving behind a growing group, three small documents, and a legacy of self-reliance. How does one survive in a world where, in Yeats's descrip-tion, "the centre cannot hold"? Angela's writings suggest that she endured by reliance on the Holy Spirit, self-confidence, adapt-ability, and kindness. She assumed that her daughters would sur-vive and that God would somehow take care of them, but I see no evidence that she had much stake in gathering a group that would last forever. She does not appear to have been much of a worrier, 3%dy-~lugust 1993 497 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns perhaps because she thought of herself as a mother and had such a fearless concept of motherhood. Angela's model of mothering was dominated neither by the medieval bias that considered women to be morally and intellec-tually inferior nor by Renaissance romanticizing. In her reckon-ing, a mother is loving, but also demanding; tough as well as flexible; able to embody both divine mercy and divine judgment. As CarolynWalker Bynum has shown, these qualities are partic-ularly important in contrast to concepts of divine motherhood that we find in the writings of medieval monks. For them, moth-ers are eternally nurturing, never critical, always available, in other words, stereotypical in the worst ways. Angela's concept of motherhood is the best indicator of her independent spirit. Like the great female mystics of Helfta-- Gertrude the Great, Mechtild--she was able to look into the mir-ror and see herself and her daughters as powerful even as they committed themselves to lives of service. She managed for much of her life to be what many of us hope eventually to become, self-accepting, aware of life's bleak realities without being defeated by them, and so quietly self-confident that it seems not to have occurred to her that she would not be able to do what needed to be done. In managing to live without marrying or entering a convent, and seeing no reason why other women could not do the same, she may have failed to recognize the extraordinary qualities of her own personality, but in that, too, I see modest ambitions con-cealing a powerful sense of purpose. If I can do this, she seems to say, so can you. Little Wonder that young women were attracted to her. She looks out from the past, not with directives, but with encouragement. "Take heart," she says, "I have confidence in you." The word that dominates her writings is kindness, the notion that people can teach more effectively, pray more openly, and act in the world more compellingly insofar as they remember to be tender, encouraging, loving. The ability of hers to enable her fol-lowers by encouraging them to trust themselves is no small thing to emulate in these times of confusion and anxiety about the future of religious life. Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's oppor-tunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Among other things, feminism is a countercultural movement related to the ways women are taught to act and to imagine themselves. As 498 Review for Religiozts someone deeply committed to women in an age that was deter-mined to keep women in lives of subservience, Angela was coun-tercultural. Her relationships, attitudes, and actions did not fit the norm for Renaissance women, nor did they fit into the accepted molds for "pious" laywomen. She did not take up residence with a man in order to have an overseer, for example, nor did she count it a danger to faith to be living outside the control of a husband or a bishop. When she says, in Counsel number 7, to follow the old Law but lead a new Life, she makes a countercultural statement. In the ways she used her own expe-rience to make her life and the lives of other women better, she did then what feminists urge women to do now. Like women in most times, she knew that she could not operate as men do, by domi-nating a situation, and so learned to lead by other means. She was a madre, a mother and leader whose "gov-ernance" was more by example than by decree. At the same time, she was not afraid of provocative images of power, urging her fol-lowers to be "like Judith," the Israelite woman who saved her peo-ple by beheading the enemy leader, Holofernes. In her Counsels Angela suggests that her followers serve oth-ers; practice gentleness; not be anxious if they do their best; build community anywhere; teach by example; find refuge in Jesus; nur-ture those entrusted to them; honor authority in the community; and live in harmony. People can, of course, read those bits of guidance in profoundly conservative ways to suggest that Ursuline women simply comply with rightful authority and define them-selves in terms of old-fashioned virtues of maternal charity. Compassion, prayer, solidarity, and a creative imagination, they might say, have been the tools women have used for centuries to shape life toward their purposes, find they work well in traditional models. But I think it is also possible to read them as directions from a self-possessed, powerful woman to those she expected to follow her lead. The bottom line is Angela herself: she trusted her friends and counted on them to be able to make use of their own experience as she had done. As I see her legacy, she was more Because I find Angela's life a statement about women's opportunities, I think she is something of a feminist hero. Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns interested in encouraging women to trust themselves than she was in providing them with a set of rules and regulations. However one interprets her life, the things Angela did can still be done. Women today--laywomen and religious women--have moved beyond passivity and found new ways to make innovations and to ameliorate social ills, as she did. She knew how to read and respond to the sigris of the times in creative ways and assumed that her followers would, too. She was able to read the gospel in prag-matic terms, as a demand to respond to the human demands of everyday life, and left that as part of her legacy. She looked for a new form of religiou~ life within her own experience and com-bined it with the tried-and-true formulae of work and prayer and fasting to come up with something so ahead of its time that it scared the men in charge of things. That can still be done, too. Whatever happens to "religious life" over the next few years-- and there is no end of controversy about it--I believe that at least three things need to be combined with your own reading of Angela's life. These general recommendations apply to all of us. First, we need to know the Catholic tradition: to be literate about revelation, creation, redemption, Christology, grace, and the rest, not in order to hold on in an obdurate or triumphal way, but to have a solid appreciation of what Catholicism is and is not. With Angela as a model, be assured that I am not talking about the truncated tradition handed on by men, the one that excluded women. I am talking about the full, richly embodied, woman-rich tradition of Roman Catholicism. Those who teach young people know that we now stand in a stream of Catholic tradition that very few people really know or understand. Those whose lives are focused on education might be both scandalized and galva-nized by that fact. Second, we need to have a firm grasp of the sacramentality of Catholicism since it both strengthens the spirit and informs the imagination. If we understand that the things of the world are sacred, that God is often present in the most unlikely of places, then we might see new possibilities in the universe. We need, in other words, as Angela did, to cultivate our religious sensibili-ties: to paint frescoes, create new holy cards, celebrate life. Finally, I think we should read Scripture and its commentaries and make that a part of our prayer. Angela may have done good works and taught her "daughters". all afternoon, but only, I think, because she spent the mornings in St. Afra's in front of the altar, sometimes 500 Review for Religious deeply connected, sometimes wildly distracted, but always, rou-tinely, there. I was attracted to Angela Merici originally because she was a powerful woman and, in my reading, a reluctant founder. As I read and thought more about her, I was drawn to her sense of adventure, her willingness' to risk what may have looked like an idiotic experiment at a time when she may have been mostly tempted to retire. So how can Ursulines combine their founding charism--tied to Angela Merici--with tradition, sacramentality, and Scripture? The hard part of that question for me has to do with the Ursuline charism. What is it? Education? Virginity? Working with young women? The possible answers sometimes seem as multivalent as the life of the founder and perhaps, like all life forms, reflect some facet of divinity back to God in their par-ticularities. Ursulines together embody the varieties of Ursuline life in a way that highlights the many aspects of Angela that are worth emulating. The bottom line for me is confident innovation. I do not know if that constitutes a "charism," but it seems to me that it could. Seeing what needs to be done and doing it with an embracing charity, while refusing to capitulate to fears about the future, is a rather astounding legacy, as useful today as it was then. Bibliographical Notes Many of the ideas for a feminist reading come from the work I have done over the last decade on women in the Catholic Church. My New Catholic Women: A Contemporary Challenge to Traditional Religious Authority (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1985) is the best state-ment of that interest (see especially chapters 1 and 3). Joan Kelly's Women, History and Theory (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984) is still the best place to start when considering the problems raised by feminist historiography. Because Kelly's work is often set within the context of Renaissance history, her essays were particu-larly useful in interpreting the context for Angela. Also, Carolyn Walker Bynum's books, especially Jesus as Mother: Studies in the Spirituality of the High Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982) are outstanding resources for thinking about the ways late medieval women actually thought and acted in the face of various religious and social changes. To learn about Ursulines, I began with Agnes Repplier's Mbre Marie of the Ursulines: A Study in Adventure (New York: Grosset and Dunlap, 1932), which gave me some amusing and provocative insights into Angela and Ursula along with the f~scinating story of M~re Marie herself. I am most indebted, however, to Teresa. Led6chowska's marvelous two- .l~uly-Augus* 1993 501 Weaver ¯ The Most Adventurous of Nuns volume critical biography, Angela Merici and the Company of St. Ursula: According to the Historical Documents (translated from the French by Teresa Nylan and published in Rome: Ancora, 1969). I used this amaz-ing resource to reconstruct the events of Angela's life. The interpre-tation of Angela as "fleeing" from the voice of God and as a "reluctant" founder are my own. I was also instructed by various works of Ursuline historian Irene Mahoney, whose Portraits of Angela (privately printed, 1985) and St. Angela Merici: Foundress of the Ursulines (privately printed, 1985) are excellent books, full of detail and insight. Martha Bucer's Also in Your Midst: Reflections on the Spirituality of St. Angela Merici (Green Bay, Wisconsin: Alt Publishing Co., 1990) was also helpful. Friends provided me with various notes from Ursuline conferences, especially with a very large set of materials from an international conference in Rome in 1991. I read them with great appreciation and have bor-rowed from them here. Other books cited or alluded to in this paper include E.R. Chamberlain, The Bad Popes (New York: New American Library, 1969); Louise Collins, Memoirs of a Medieval Woman: The Life and Times of Margery Kempe (New York: Thomas Crowell, 1964); Dorothy Day, Loaves and Fishes (New York: Curtis Books, 1963); James Hennesey, American Catholicism: A Histo~bv of the Catholic Community in the United States (New York: Oxford University Press, 1981); H.EM. Prescott, Friar Felix at Large: A 15th-Century Pilgrimage to the Holy Land (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1950); William Butler Yeats, "The Second Coming," in The Collected Poems of W.B~ Yeats (New York: Macmillan, 1959); and the Penguin Dictionary of the Saints (London: Penguin Books, 1965). Progeny Imagination gives birth to a new offspring with its own world of wonder. From a procreator's seed comes a poem or a painting, a sonata Or a cathedral. each pulsing with th~ heartbeat of Progenitor-God, Giver of beauty to beauty's ministers anointed with the rite of co-creation. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 502 Review for Religious EILEEN P. O'HEA Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I am in a hermitage. It is, again, not what I expected. The brochure made it seem inviting, a way to satisfy the desire of my heart. I wanted a place to be--to just be, be an empty vessel in God's presence. I wanted to symbolize my response to God at this point in my life and to make sure I am open, attentive to any desire or whisper of the Divine. This hermitage looks out on woods that are covered with ten inches of pure white snow. As one walks, there is no sound but the crunch of rubber boots on a would-be path and the rusde of some frozen leaves that still hang on to bare branches like icicles. To be empty before the Beloved is my desire. And so I sit cross-legged on my saffron pillow before a large wooden cross, flanked by two small icons, and a vigil light. At last, I think, desire meets fulfillment in this quiet, undistracted place. But I am distracted; I am cold. I push the thermostat knob on the small gas heater behind me to its highest set-ring. The heater begins to ci'ackle and bang continuously and make little explosive noises every six minutes or so. It robs me of silence. As darkness absorbs the light of day, I get colder and colder. I have already layered myself in all the clothes I brought with me, and I have squeezed my Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ is a psychotherapist and spiritual director. Her address is 2311 Woodbridge Street; Suite 210; St. Paul, Minnesota 55113. prayer 1993 503 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life I want God's truth to be straightforward-- no glitches. ice-cold feet with their two pair of socks into my new "Thinsulate" mittens. As my feet flop around on the cold wood floor, I remind myself of Emmett Kelly, the circus clown. It is not quite funny, however. I force myself to persevere for one half hour of quiet prayer, but the clanging radiator, my clanging mind, and my freez-ing body do not lead me to a place of rest. I decide it is time for the bread and cheese, the orange, and the cup of tea that are to be my supper. I watch the night as I eat. Each piece of food, each sip of tea, carries its own taste when one is so concentrated. The orange is succulent and sweet, the cheese substantial and rich, the bread mealy and nourishing, the tea satisfying. I am grateful for each. Fortified, I read the Scripture that lies open as if ready for me. I read Psalm 139 out loud and slowly, wondering as I do so if this is the place God will choose to cast some direct light and move my spirit to new understanding. I want to be awake. If I am supposed to be getting a message, if that is why I am here, I do not want to miss it. Toward the end of the psalm my spirit is thwarted by the words: "Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord?" I cannot say these words; I check my own revised version of the text. It is the same. I close the book, wanting to feel glad that God knit me in my mother's womb, but put off by the dualistic image. This glitch prevents me from totally giving myself to this experience. I want God's truth to be straightforward--no glitches. After wrestling around a litde, I decide to again attempt some contemplative sitting. I drape the blanket around my head, shoul-ders, and feet. I set the timer for thirty minutes and wonder if I should. Perhaps this will be the time when I will just want to linger in God's presence unrestricted. So often when I experi-ence this desire some duty calls me away. This is partly why I am here in this hermitage--so I can linger in the sweet and loving presence of God or be carried beyond my own self-consciousness to a very deep and still place. I do not set the timer. I do not rest. I am very cold. I stay in this prayer position, waiting for the time to be over. I want to be comfortable. I am not. After twenty minutes I give up. I think of going to bed. I am tired and everything has taken too much 504 Review for Religious energy. The outhouse is the least of inconveniences, I think, as I stare blankly toward a small wooden washstand. Eight plastic gal-lon containers of water, icy cold, flank it. They are for washing, cleaning, and drinking. I do not like them. I decide it is too early to go to bed. It is only 6:45. I sit in the rocker, my glasses and I peeking out through the draped blan-kets, and begin to read about "unity." The cynical part of me wonders if Ruusbroec (or Ruysbroeck) could have written or known these things if he were as cold as I am. Another level of me intuits the abiding truth he is trying to articulate. I want to sip his words like fine wine and, like the effect of wine, feel them in all the cells of my body. But the resistance of my body and psyche to the frigid Minnesota weather that is penetrating this north-woods hermitage will not forsake its stance. Although I have only one page left to end the chapter, I do not continue. My heart is moved again by Ruusbroec's words when he writes about Christ's prayer for unity (Jn 17:21-23) and says it is the most loving prayer which Christ ever prayed for our salva-tion. I am touched that Christ was praying, that Christ too was filled with desire. Stay with this, I think; do not read further. I close the book. I go to bed. I am warmer. My mind goes back to Ruusbroec's words. I wonder: Is this the truth I am meant to penetrate? It has not quite caught hold of me deeply enough, I ruminate, but perhaps during the night my enlightenment will come. My mind casts about as my body begins to settle into the comfort of warmth. Perhaps Sharon, the woman running this retreat house, is a mystic who can read my soul and tell me things that God wants me to know. I fall asleep. I dream of Sharon. Morning comes. I hesitate to get up, to begin the ordeal of being cold again. I pray, eat breakfast (I do not have to dress because I am already wearing all my clothes), and go for a walk. The atmo-sphere is frigid; the sky is gray" and overcast. Ithink of leaving early. I do not need bodily hardship, I muse; things have been phys-ically hard enough this past year. I need solace and nurturing. However, I counter this thought by reminding myself that I am old enough in hermitage experiences to know one must let them be what they are, not impose oneself or one's desires on them. Let God be God, I remind myself, and you be an open space. As I reenter the hermitage, I realize I dreamt of Sharon, but can only remember her saying it is about change. I wonder if this 3~uly-A~t 1993 505 O'Hea ¯ Hermitage, a Metaphor of Life My time here has taught me how hard it is to contemplate when one is reduced to survival. is significant and a message from God or if it is a matter of my own projections and happenstance. Rather than get caught in this distraction, I reassert the pact I have secretly made with Divine Love and say: "You know my great love for you, you know I desire only you and your will; then, if you want me to move in a certain direction or to know something about you or me, you must let me know it in a way that is not obscure and leaves me free of doubt. I am open to you, but you must remove the obstacles that prevent me from knowing or seeing your will clearly. I am totally dependent on you for this and feel it is not too much to ask of one who is in a relationship of mutual love. In a word, do your stuff and I'll do mine." Inside I sit in the rocker that I have moved as close to the gas heater as possible. I pick up my pen and yellow pad and begin to write: My time here has taught me how hard it is to con-template when one is reduced to survival. Survival sets one's consciousness at the level of basic and immediate, human needs and so occupies it with food, clothing, and shelter that it gives no attention to deeper lev-els of reality. Consequently, these deeper levels of consciousness-- places where intimacy with Divine Being is realized and expressed--are, practically speaking, obliterated. The heinousness of human sin, its death-dealing power, is many-leveled. Starving peoples in Africa and war-torn countries come to mind. I put my pen down and pray: Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison. It is afternoon.I am still cold. In a few hours my time here will be over. I do not want to leave. As I begin to gather my things I think: This hermitage time was neither "lights on" or "lights off," as Ruth Burrows describes moments of the spiritual journey. I console myself with the thought that I came to be an empty ves-sel before God. Before leaving I sit one last time on my saffron pillow to pray. As I do so, I see outside my window a brown oak leaf surrender to a current of air, then glide gently down to the waiting snow. It is sitting there now, very still, ready in due season to become one with the earth. I sit too, quietly waiting, attentive, attuned to Love. ~06 Review for Religious ROBERT MCCOWN Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Or What You Always Wanted to Know About Being a Mystic But Were Afraid to Ask pmeople of the ancient world strove in many ways to com-unicate with whoever they believed to be out there, with whoeveg made the world and somehow controlled their lives and destinies. They offered in sacrifice choice things: grain or wine poured out, sheep or oxen slaughtered then immolated with fire. The smoke, they thought, would rise before the gods with a pleas-ing odor. Th.ey played flutes, used prayer wheels, painted their bodies, stamped their feet, and babbled. They hoped to get the gods' attention, to bring down favors from them. Human nature has not changed with the New Dispensation, nor have the ways men and women try to pray, except these are now purified and made gentle by revelation. Christ invited us to intimacy with his Father, and we respond by lifting our hearts to him: in the Eucharist (above ~11, the true and ultimate sacrifice), in vocal prayer (such as the Rosary), and in private prayer. We address God with words often chosen from the Psalms or given us by Christ himself or by his saints. These same words, as we use them, enrich our hearts and minds with wisdom. Robert McCown SJ has traveled widely in Japan, Thailand, India, and China. He has for the past two years been teaching literature in the University of Hangzhou, on China's eastern coast. His current address is: The Shrine of the Holy Cross; EO. Box 1497; Daphne, Alabama 36526. aTuly-dugust 1993 507 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation Zen has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. But there are problems with using words in prayer--even God's words. Over time we tend to multiply them and to load onto them our own intellectual and emotional baggage, allowing our selfishness to co-opt their meaning. So in some prayers we might even want to dispense with words, to use body language only, which can sometimes be for us clearer, deeper, more pow-erful than spoken words. This, I think, is the prayer Christ meant when he said, "When you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret." In such private and largely nonvocal prayer we offer God ourselves in our silent presence, and God responds to us, creatively, in our lives. This kind of prayer goes under a variety of descriptive names: meditation, contem-plation, and mental prayer. There is a long history of it in the church, going back to her earliest years, but it flourished especially in Europe in the fourteenth through the six-teenth centuries with a succession of great spiritual directors. St. Ignatius Loyola taught his followers in his Spiritual Exercises to meditate upon structured concepts and upon chiseled images--both anchored in powerful words--to explore the destructiveness of their sins, to accept forgiveness for them, and then, centering their lives in Christ, to redirect them to God in service of the church. But he reserved a choice place at the end of these Exercises for his largely wordless, though still rich in imagery, Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love. Others led their fol-lowers to shun in their meditations activities of both the intelli-gence and the imagination and, instead, to go beneath these, down to the marrow of the soul, to encounter the Father in that secret "room" they felt Jesus was speaking of. Zen as practiced by Christians is, in many ways, like this lat-ter form of prayer. It is not new, for it has been used for decades by Christian contemplatives who came under the influence of ascetics of the East. Although in recent years Zen has experienced in the West a growth in popularity, many devout people, unfor-tunately, have misconceptions of it, bringing mistrust. 508 Review for Religious Zen masters themselves often give little help in understand-ing their elusive discipline. When one puts questions to them about it, they often smile and remain silent. I believe this is because they see Zen not as a doctrine but as an activity--and thus an experience--so simple and immediate that, when one attempts to conceptualize it, he only obscures it, as when one tries to define the experience of love or of life. But I feel once people see what Zen is not--certainly not a rival to Christian spirituality--they may wish to try to do Zen themselves and thus to experience the extraordinary benefits claimed to derive from it. Let us consider first--lacking a better term--traditional Zen. Rather than enter the question of the historical origins of it, let it suffice to say it has been practiced for more than 1400 years. Concerning the question of its place of origin--whether India, Tibet, China, or Japan--let us concede simply that it developed in the East, probably in a pantheistic culture. But this should not influence Zen's practical value to us as a mode of meditation any more than the lack of faith of a philosopher should keep us from benefiting from his thinking. After all, a key foundation of scholas-tic philosophy and theology is a series of clear concepts St. Thomas found in the writings of the pagan Aristotle that first came to Europe through the works of Islamic thinkers. Of grea~er importance for our purpose are the reasons Zen developed into the form it ultimately took. These we hope we can intuit as we consider the practice of Zen itself; from these, perhaps, we can gain an insight into why Zen has been found by Christian con-templatives of former times and today to be useful in their prayer life. To do Zen one follows a series of seven conventions. So that our efforts remain not an exercise in looking only but translate into a creative experience, let the gentle reader observe successively these conven-tions as we set them forth: 1. Having chosen carefully the place for our meditation--as free as possible from distrac-tions, harsh lights, sounds, and drafts--we assume the Zen position, as shown in the illus-tration on this page. In this position we join our hands and bow from the waist in the tra-ditional oriental gesture of courtesy which here means, "Now I begin my meditation." A July-Aug~wt 1993 509 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation similar bow at the end will mean, "Now I end my meditation." If we must stand to attend to something--best disconnect the tele-phone beforehand--or we have an itch or a cramp we simply can-not ignore, we bow as we break off meditating, then again as we resume it. This puts parentheses around each session of our med-itation, separating it from interruptions coming from us and from our world around us. 2. We try to keep our backs as erect as comfortably possible: the base of the spine is the key. We do not worry if at first it tires quickly. After a couple of weeks of daily meditation, it will surprise us by its new toughness, even during longer sessions of Zen. 3. Our legs should be crossed as well as possible, but com-fortably, making allowances for bad knees and general decrepi-tude. We strive to keep faithful to the time we agree with ourselves to meditate daily. Twenty-minute sessions are good to begin with. As we go longer, circulato .ry pain in our legs can force us to take a break. For this, we bow, stand, join hands before us, pace the room for two minutes; then, taking again the Zen position, we bow, and resume meditating. 4. Our hands and wrists should rest comfortably on the insides of our thighs--left four fingers on top of right four fingers, the fingers underneath press up dynamically against those above, while the tips of the thumbs touch together ever so lighdy and del-icately. Here we aim to combine a relaxed and stable dynamism of our fingers with an alert delicacy in the touch of our thumbs. 5. Our head should be erect, tilted slightly forwar.d comfort-ably, and with chin in. Our tongue should rest relaxed in the base of our mouth, and we avoid all nervous movement of tongue and jaw. Lips should be relaxed and slighdy parted to permit exhaling through the mouth. 6. Our eyes should remain half closed and out of focus. If we close our eyes, we will go to sleep;, if we focus them on anything, that thing will become a distraction. 7. Our breathing should be not from the chest but from the diaphragm. We loosen our belts, allowing our lower abdomen full freedom to expand and contract. We inhale, knowing the air we take in through our nostrils will heal and give peace, and the air we exhale through our mouth will carry out those things that rob us of peace. This breathing is indeed the key to both tradi-tional and Christian Zen because, once we are in observance of these conventions, the conscious listening to the sound of our 510 Review for Religious breathing becomes the central continuous deliberate activity dur-ing the entire time we are meditating. W.e strive to make this breathing more and more regular, more deeply from the diaphragm. We seek to become increasingly absorbed in repose-fully listening to and centering ourselves in its sound. As we descend deeper into this centering, the thoughts, desires, and images that our mind naturally gener-ates will diminish to nil. If some persist, we do not fight against them, but, by continuously renewing this reposeful centering, we ignore them. If they con-tinue aggressively, it is probably because we are not observing certain of the conventions above. Perhaps our hands have slipped away from the position of dynamism and delicacy, or we are permitting nervous activity in our mouth. But most often the reason will be found in our breathing being not from the diaphragm, or our not centering ourselves in its sound. Striving meticulously to maintain these conventions, in spite of the turmoil our daily lives may be subjected to at the time, and striving, as well, to pass the whole period with a mini-mum of surrenders to needs to scratch or to shift our body's mem-bers, make for steady progress over the months, over the years. Indeed this striving for perfection in every detail--in posture and in centering in our breathing--becomes the daily bread and but-ter of Zen meditation. Even the pain we will feel in our legs after thirty or so min-utes of continuous meditation can be turned to our advantage. As this pain grows, we seek to enter it, to center within it, and, as it were, to find in it a certain rest. Thus our concentration upon our breathing will become more complete and more central, and foreign thoughts will be more completely excluded. The above conventions are, curiously, the essentials of Zen as it has developed over the past millefinium. Being in essence non-verbal, nonconceptual, and nonimaginative, Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. To those practicing Zen, it is the experience that matters, whereas the conflicting ways one tries to describe or analyze this experience are to them secondary at best. But for us Westerners, who look for reasons to be persuaded, let us ask what we are doing when we do Zen, and why. Simply stated, following these conventions meticulously permits us a Zen does not lend itself to being systematized. j~ldy-August 1993 511 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation maximum control of both our physical and mental activities, and from this we are able to suspend them partially. Thus, during meditation, the Zen position encompasses and brings under con-trol in appropriate ways every member and organ of our body-- even our heart--which, we will find, will beat slower as we descend deeper into the centering. While consciously listening to the sound of our breathing itself, we can make it more regular, more from the diaphragm, and it will further become the key to controlling and emptying the activities of our mind: memory, intelligence, will, and imagination, including especially emotions. Thus, in doing Zen we strive to make each session of medi-tation both as dynamic and as empty as possible. As far as I know there is no better way than this to disengage our physical and mental powers over an extended period of time while still con-tinuing awake and alert. Anyone attempting to observe self-imposed silence and recollection during a conventional retreat knows how recalcitrant our bodies and our minds are to this kind of discipline. Not even in sleep itself, which we now know is filled with both physical and mental .activity, is there such a diminish-ment of these as there is in Zen meditation. This partial suspension of our bodily and mental activities for a set period of time daily is the objective of Zen, and from this derive its singular benefits. As we strive for this disengage-ment, and achieve it in a growing degree, we are actually induc-ing our physical and mental powers into a daily, deep repose. Not only are each member of our bodies, but also the thoughts of our hearts, put to rest during our meditation: our conflicting values competing for dominance; our desires, inordinate or not; our ambitions and passionate longings; and our memories, both joy-ful and painful, with ruminations of past grievances. Thus we turn over, to our own mysterious powers of healing within us, our bodies, minds, and hearts; and from this daily repose and renewing of the whole person, a peace is given. We speak, of course, of daily meditation-Z-not over weeks, but over months, over years. If we do Zen faithfully, we will become aware of certain gifts that mysteriously enter our lives. We are surprised by new insights that fall out of nowhere into our minds, perhaps not during the time of meditation, but at other times dur-ing the day or night. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own best values, of how to bring to bear our nobler motivations. We acquire a deeper understanding of our own weaknesses, and we 512 Review for Religious see ways which perhaps we did not see before to put to rest inor-dinate desires. We become less afflicted by painful images of griefs or disappointments; and we are less obsessed by regrets, by per-sonal defeats and shames. Even memories of hurts from deep in our childhood, of which we are perhaps only barely aware but which still send poisonous tentacles up into our present relationships, can be uncovered and healed. We are mystified by how our own recuperative powers can now work within us. Just as, for exam-ple, when one morning we awake and realize happily that at last we are he~iled of a drawn-out bout with the flu, so in practicing Zen we might one day realize that now--but not before--we are able to turn with sincere affection toward a friend who has deeply hurt us. In short, what we experience in ourselves is a self-rehabilitat-ing human being, perhaps with long-immobilized personal gifts now renewed. From this, then, our own creative energies can emerge unencumbered, with a new freedom. This healing will often spread to others around us in our family, in our community and work place, even when they are not aware we meditate. As described thus far, traditional Zen is not intrinsically a religious action; it is, thus, neither theistic nor atheistic. Hence the curious smiles coming from Zen masters when one asks if, as practitioners of Zen, they believe in God. Somewhere further on in this direction lies the experience of enlightenment. Zen masters describe enlightenment as a percep-tion totally beyond reason, beyond imagining; intuitive, yet at the core of our life itself. All of Zen teaching, they add, is but an effort to take the disciple beyond concepts and images that stand for reality, and put him or her in intimate contact with that real-ity itself. It is in vain, they maintain, to pursue intellectually this stage, since all ratiocination on this point is useless, futile, and confusing. Thomas Merton calls this "the Zen fact" and com, pares it to an alarm clock. When it goes off, the sleeper 1) does not hear and just keeps on sleeping; or 2) making a misguided response, in effect turns the alarm off, permitting him to go back to sleep; or 3) he jumps out of bed with a shout of astonishment that it is so late. Zen is the alarm clock, it merely enables us to wake up and become aware. It teaches nothing. It points. Merton continues: "But we in the West, in ego-centered practicality and ¯ . . manipulation of everything, always pass from one thing to another, from cause to effect, from the first to the next to the last and then back to the first. Everything always points to something 3~dy-August 1993 513 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation else and hence we never stop anywhere because we cannot; as soon as we pause, the escalator reaches the end of the ride and we have to get off and find another one. Nothing is allowed just to be and to mean itself; everything has to signify something else. Zen is designed to frustrate the mind thinking in such terms. 'The Zen fact,' whatever it may be, always lands across our road like a fallen tree beyond which we cannot pass. Nor are such 'facts' lacking in Christianity--the Cross for example . . . which gives Christians a radically new consciousness." The way some Zen masters describe enlightenment, as an experience of the unity of all being, reflects the monistic, cos-motheistic, philosophical climate of Zen's origins; and it can be disconcerting to a Christian. Yet, if one takes seriously one of the central teachings of Zen itself~namely, that it is the experience and not the concept of it that matters--then one may judge pan-theistic doctrine as the above to be not central to Zen. Indeed such might be for us the "misguidance" that prompts us to turn off the alarm clock, to go back to sleep and miss the experience. The "fact" of Zen is simply the experience that puts us in touch with this ultimate personal reality itself, and that, I believe, must at last come down to be our own individual living soul--the con-crete reality, not a concept of it. We cannot think our way to our soul's living presence, or analyze or visualize it; but in doing Zen we are brought to the experience .of the soul's availing itself of space to renew itself, and then of its mysterious healing powers in renewing our body, mind, and heart. Being in Zen an apprentice of only some twenty-five years, a full-blown experience of enlightenment, with 'its sudden flash of intuition, is still unknown to me. Nor do I seek it as such; as Christian, I try to keep my heart open to whatever grace the Lord sends and to whatever form he wants it to take. But before we dismiss Zen and turn off the alarm clock, I suggest we take seriously stated opinions of respected specialists, not only of such as Thomas Merton or Dom Aelred Graham, but also of Dr. John C. H, Wu, an eminent jurist and diplomat, a Chinese convert to Catholicism, and a scholar, who is able to write of Zen not from hearsay or study alone, but from within. He is not afraid to write that he brought Zen and Confucianism with him into Christianity. Looking further back, I have been assured by Carmelites who are specialists in both their tradition of con-templation and in Christian Zen that these two traditions are 514 Review for Religious essentially the same: what Teresa of Avila, in her own inimitable way, and what John of the Cross--and what Meister Eckhart 200 years before them--practiced, perhaps unknown to them, was essentially Christian Zen. But what is Christian Zen, which we will now call centering prayer, and how is it prayer if traditional Zen is not? Will an attempt to use Zen in prayer, contrary to what Zen masters main-rain-- that one cannot accommodate true Zen to any ulterior pur-pose- render it ineffectual? To answer, let me offer an analogy. Consider a ballet apprentice who works daily on her technique. She may give little thought to what ballet grammar--the body language she is learning--might be saying or to whom; she metic-ulously strives only to perfect every move, every step of it. For the present, the immediate benefits of her efforts--pride in pleasing a respected teacher, satisfaction in mastering an art--are suffi-cient reasons for striving for self-discipline; and she grows daily in poise and beauty. But one day a certain impresario discovers her and offers her a part in a new production. Now she has two things she lacked before: a role, a dramatispersona to live within, and an envisioned audience. These give form and finality to her efforts. Just as this ballerina can adapt her previously acquired skills to this new orientation, so also, as many Christian contemplatives have found, the skills and the strengths of traditional Zen, with little change in its dynamics, can be fitted into the larger synthesis of Christian prayer. Neither our ballerina above, nor a person doing Zen medi-tations daily, acts without a certain basic desire, or even a pas-sion, which drives their actions, enabling them to keep a daily commitment. One must first wish to do what is necessary to become, to be--whether in ballet, in Zen, or in Christian prayer. Satisfaction found therein will, in turn, sustain and nourish the motivation. When the prophet Samuel was a small boy sleeping in the temple, he was awakened repeatedly by a voice calling, "Samuel, Samuel!" Each time he got up and went to his master, the elderly priest Eli, and asked what he wanted. Each time Eli replied, "I didn't call, my son; go and lie down again." Again Samuel heard the voice calling, and again he went to the old priest. But this time Eli, perceiving it was thd Lord calling, instructed him, "The next time he calls, you must respond, 'Speak, Lord, for your ser-vant is listening.'" Whether that night Samuel really heard the 3~uly-August 1993 515 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation voice of God, or whether he heard only, as he had many times before, the wind blowing through the porticos of the temple, his listening and then giving response is the same. It is the reality from which the call came that makes the difference between an obedient child and the prophet-to-be. We must listen continu-ously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. If we find traditional Zen apt for putting us in contact with the healing and peace-giving powers of our human spirit within, how much more will we find centering prayer apt for opening our beings to the Spirit of God within us, to surrendering ourselves to this Healer, this Comforter? It will be this Spirit's voice we listen for within the sound of our breathing, as she leads us into that silence within, where, using utterances beyond human words, with ineffable groaning, she cries, "Abba, Father!" Far from taking from Zen its dignity, thi~ carries it to its fulfillment. What a grace it is that Christian contemplatives discovered Zen and were able to enrich Christian asdeticism with it. The Christ-centered dynamics of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, especially when renewed yearly, give peace and build motivations to service, but they were not meant to be used daily over a long period of time when they can become exhausting. Centering prayer, on the other hand, not in contrast to the Exercises but ancillary to them, offers spiritual repose. Many of Ignatius's instructions can be applied with profit to Zen.medita-tion: making preparation before meditation by spiritual reading and acts of self-denial; cultivating honesty and sincerity in eval-uating our efforts at praying; making from time to time reviews of moments of joy or of sadness; and, with the retreat master's help, using carefully Ignatius's instructions on the discernment of spirits. In sessions of centering prayer, unlike in other forms of med-itation, one does not pray the words of any pious text, nor even of Holy Scripture. Words, whether we want them to or not, will bloom into images, and images invite concepts which multiply, and thus we are on the way to taking our bodies and minds out of that total surrender to the Spirit, the true mode of centering prayer. Rather, we should see each session of this prayer as that time when the Bridegroom is present before us, looking into our eyes, speaking into our hearts, so we put aside during this qual-ity time his love-letters from times past, no matter how treasured 516 Review for Religious they are. With no more than a bow of adoration and a word to greet him by name, such as, "Jesus, have mercy on me, a sinner," we surrender ourselves with total passivity to his Spirit within us, who will shape our minds and hearts according to his holy will. In this action of the Spirit, one is reminded of a great, silent, mov-ing body of water, imperceptibly and with ease, carrying all obstacles before it. We will look forward to this daily prayer as the best moment of our day, and find in it an anchor for the rest of our lives. Let me mention now one special blessing I have received through centering prayer. When I was a very small child, I once heard my older brothers, one six, the other seven years old, talking about how hell is "for ever and ever--for eternity, which never, ever ends." My mind became beset with fearful images of this eternity, like "the void of infin-ity" that so terrified Pascal. These were most acute when I was ill, which I often was, with high fever, and with accompanying nightmares. During these I often dreamed I was looking up and saw the ceiling above me (and all reality with it) recede up and up and up, for ever and ever. My sight was forced to go with it, on and on, and I could never, ever make it stop; and that was eternity. And I felt desperately alone and forsaken. I could not turn off the nightmare, until my screams brought my father or mother who would awake me and comfort me. This terror remained with me even into later life. When I discovered Zen meditation, which then became for me centering prayer, I took up the custom, after meditating and during the brief prickly feeling as my legs recovered circulation, of lying back on the rug and looking straight up at the ceiling, never forgetting that this was the way I had so fearfully felt I was look-ing into the face of eternity. But over the years, gradually, imper-ceptibly, the terror departed. In its place has grown a trust in God's mercy and, even, flashes--ever so brief and fleeting--of joy in looking forward to my death, which now is approaching apace. These graces I consider among the most precious of my life. Remembering how the ancients strove to get the gods' atten-tion, we know we have already the Father's attention in his son, Jesus, who taught us to pray to his father by offering, not per- We must listen continuously to the voice of the Lord who speaks to us when and how he chooses. 3~ly-Aug'ust 1993 517 McCown ¯ Christian Zen-cum-Ignatian Meditation ishable gifts of animals slaughtered or wine or grain poured out, but one infinitely more desirable: our total selves. This same Jesus promised, moreover, "whatever you ask the Father in my name, he will give it to you." Jesus must have meant precisely that, unless we ask for something that is not good for us, then he will give us something else--something far better for us. Centering prayer, as an ancilla to the Spiritual Exercises, more than any other prayer method I know, enables us to put ourselves into this total trust-ing frame of mind, not stating what we think we want, or need, or when, but silently taking Jesus at his word and waiting. The Father, who knows our needs far better than we do, will respond; and why wouldn't he, since Jesus said he would? Night Prayer The saints have left for the day, their stained-glass coves Are dark. The night, that deep iconoclast, Obscures the panes with his breath, as a prayer revolves Inside me, calling to the blackened east. I close my eyes and linger there, in the glow Of a bleak and fallen image of the outcast world, And wander through remembered brambles that grow Where squandered immortalities should. When young I crossed an ocean. Nearing land Candescent seeds arose from the water's rim As if sown in the sky by a hopeful, graceful hand To mingle with a tide of stars, to bloom unseen. From the altar candles' final gasp of light Two tendrils of smoke vanish into night. Kevin McCaffrey OP 518 Revie~v for Religious MARY CORONA God's Human Face Revealed: A Retreat in Wales Iyhad been living and working in Amman, Jordan, for eight ears when in 1989 I began reading The Journeying Self, by Diarmuid McGann. Becoming deeply involved with it, I came across these words: "The journey of faith begins at the Lord's invitation. He finds us in our places of marginal existence, where we hunger for liberation." I did not go further than that for sev-eral months, but those lines I read over and over again. I could wrest no personal meaning from them, and yet somehow they riveted me. At the same time I was picking my way through a book by Karl Rahner. Being no scholar, "picking" is how I cope with Rahner, and yet I am hugely attracted by him. Of the many sentences I jotted down knowing that I would return to them, here are a few: In contemplation the pray-er is intent on hearing an utter-ance of God never given before . We need the courage to believe that God will say some-thing permanent. It will happen when God is ready. God places me in complete freedom. He deals with me leaving intact my autonomy and self-direction. God is Love and in the face of that--I decide. There were many more, and while I went about my life in community and my teaching duties, these thoughts floated in and out of my mind whenever my interior screen was empty, setting up such a longing that I knew I would need to respond sooner or later. Mary Corona FMDM lives at 6, St. Anthony's Road; Forest Gate; London E7 9QA; England. .~uly-Auguxt 1993 519 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed Remote PreparationmI Go to Anjara The time to plan my annual retreat came round. I thought of Jerusalem, where I had made retreats before, but I had little heart for going there because of the heavy military presence at the time. Though Jordan itself has no retreat facilities, I knew that Father Joseph Na'maat, a diocesan priest in the north of Jordan, had spare rooms in a separate building which anyone was welcome to use on a self-catering basis. He said if I came during July I would have the entire building to myself. With typical Jordanian courtesy he also told me that his house and his table would be mine anytime I felt lonely. Josephine, his housekeeper, would, he assured me, keep an eye on things and make sure I was all right. The fee was so small it was a joke. So eight days on my own loomed. How would I work it out? I went along the shelves of our library and found Rahner's Eight Day Retreat and a paperback copy of the Ignatian Exercises. From my room I picked up my Bible and missal and that was all. I think the journey of faith McGann discusses began for me that day. I felt quite naked going off with what seemed so little in the way of resources. Anjara is a village in the northern Jordanian countryside. Feeling at home in the Arab world and having enough Arabic to do my own shopping, talk with people, and get by generally, I had no fears along those lines. On my arrival I was given a warm welcome by Father Joseph and the redoubtable Josephine. Then, after being shown "my" building and handed the keys, I heard the oft-repeated words "If it gets too lonely, you know where we are!" That first evening I worked out a program for the eight days, allotting time for the breviary, rosary, and Scripture reading. I then marked out three separate hours daily for prayer, leaving time for rest and recreation which, during the eight days, would take the form of walks, sitting on the roof in the sun absorbing the view, and wandering in my host's extensive orchard followed by his floppy old dog. Knowing nothing previously about the Exercises, I soon aban-doned the paperback because it made no sense to me.I stuck to the Bible and the missal and continued to read over the sentences from McGann and Rahner which had so affected me. For the full eight days I spoke to no one, except the dog. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over 520 Review for Religious for the day. Through the grace of God, I remained faithful to all to which I had committed myself. On my final evening Josephine came to bring me over to sup-per and, like the hedgerow and byways folk of the gospel, I was compelled to attend. If you have never experienced an Arab sup-per or indeed Arab hospitality, you have missed one of life's love-lier moments. We sat on the verandah eating, talking, and--I must admit--drinking slightly too much of Father Joseph's homemade wine. The sun slowly sank behind the brown hills. Lamps were lit, creating a soft pool of light in the velvet darkness, and the night insects began their con-cert. We sat on. Eventually, however, and with real reluctance I rose, to a duet from Father Joseph and Josephine of "So soon?" I went to bed that night heavy with good food and wine and quite drunk--no, not from wine, but from the heady smell of honeysuckle and jasmine coupled with the heart-swell that comes from having spent a long summer evening with friends. The following day I returned to Amman knowing that I must do the long retreat. This is where the invitation mentioned by McGann and previously so dimly perceived was pointing. What a Franciscan was doing being so convinced that a Jesuit approach to life and prayer was the right one, I cannot say. But convinced I was. I waved to Father Joseph each morning after Mass and that was the excitement over for the day. To Wales I set about obtaining permissions for the following year and began to look for a place. Almost everyone I spoke to suggested looking for a Jesuit-run center, saying this w6uld be right for what I had in mind. But I prefer retreat houses run by women: they are cozier, and I like my creature comforts. After a few blanks I got a positive answer from a small guest-cum-retreat house, Coleg y Groes, in North Wales. Yes, they could take me. Yes, one of them could direct me. Yes, they were in the heart of the coun-try, and to all my other questions yes . . . yes . . . yes. I booked, hesitant to share with some of my more conservative friends that all was not as they might expect. I would be alone without the support of a group; I would be directed by a deacon, not a priest; 3~uly-Aug~tst 199.t 521 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed worse still, an Anglican deacon; worse again, a woman Anglican deacon! What would Ignatius have said? In August 1990 I returned to England, and in July 1991 I traveled to Wales. Arriving in time for supper, I found the small 18th-century house nestled behind the Anglican parish church in the village of Corwen. My room was very nice, with the promise of quiet. My quick eye noticed the electric kettle, tea bags, and coffee. It all augured well. I began to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then eeing the signs going wrong. I Meet My Directress Margaret, who was to direct me, suggested I join the other guests for supper that first evening; after that I would dine alone. Supper was served in a delightful low-beamed room with a huge fireplace cut from Welsh stone. Flowers were in the deeply set window alcoves, and the whole place exuded security and good living. I began, however, to get the sinking feeling that comes from having made a big decision and then seeing the signs going wrong. To my Roman mind the conversation became so Anglican, cen-tered on the ordination of women. Most of the women present, and indeed Margaret her-self, were ordained deacons. It was the last thing I wanted to get involved in. Intermingled with that were fairly long dis-sertations on the three resident cats. I drained my coffee cup as I tried to quell the rising panic within me. Relief came when Margaret suggested we go to my room for a first talk. In five minutes my fears evaporated. I knew instinctively that in her I was on to a winner. That night I slept well, waking totally refreshed. I made coffee, and one glance at the Welsh weather put me into warm trousers and a thick sweater. In the still sleeping village I found the small Catholic church. Inside, in a back pew, was a very still figure. I knelt down near the door, ready to escape if this man were not the sort I ought to seek out for company. After some minutes he looked up and said "Welcome." This was Father Joseph (I seemed destined to be mixed up with Josephs and 522 Revie'w for Religious Josephines). In answer to my question he said that so seldom did anyone come for daily Mass that we could arrange it any time suited to the two of us. Father became a true friend to me during my thirty days. He watched over me with such care and was always available for counsel or confession. That first morning he arranged for me to have a key to the church so that I could come and go at will. He knew Margaret and felt I was safe in her hands. The Thirty Days Begin And so the routine for the thirty days began. Margaret sug-gested that for the first three days I just browse over my own favorite passages of Scripture, go for walks, and take on an atmo-sphere of quiet. That first morning I took my Bible and went out. I sat overlooking a sweeping green valley and read slowly through some of my favorites: "Widen the spaces of your tent." (Is 55:2); "Behold the Bridegroom is coming." (Mt 25:7); "May He give you the power., to grow strong . " (Ep 3:16-21). And through it all I wondered just what I was doing, alone in Wales, on the threshold of this experience. Those first three days went in very gently. Sleep, walks, quiet reading, and three one-hour prayer periods a day. The kettle, tea, and coffee played their part. On the fourth day we started in earnest into the pattern of the retreat. We moved into four one hour periods of prayer a day. Each "day" would begin at 5 p.m. The four "weeks" were to be flexible as regards length. Margaret spent considerable time giving me the background to the Exercises. As she spoke, words from Robert Gleeson's intro-duction to Anthony Mottola's translation of the Exercises came back to me: "Ignatius intended to stay in Manresa for a few days. These days stretched into ten months with results that are still reverberating around the world." Yes, I thought, even to Corwen. Something of Margaret's own love for Ignatius overflowed into me. Here was no mere competent guide, but rather one who was imbued with the spirit of Ignatius. I felt very secure, but real-ized Margaret was no soft touch as she explained the conditions: no reading, other than that prescribed; no music, news, corre-spondence, conversation, and so forth. She spoke of the neces-sity of being utterly faithful to the full one-hour prayer periods, and she warned me off interior conversation which could easily become the little foxes destroying the vineyard. When she had July-Auffust 1993 523 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed finished, my snug feeling of security had drastically slipped, to he replaced by a sense of vulnerable nakedness. Thus stripped I entered the first "week" of the retreat. The First Week (Seven Days) Sin, in its hideousness, was the focus of this first week. Powerful meditations on words previously heard but never fully absorbed came back to influence my prayer. The First Principle and Foundation offered at the beginning of this week presented such a challenge thai it almost unseated me. Could I, in complete sincerity, make such a prayer? Part of my background reading said, "This law which I enjoin on you this day is not beyond your strength" (Dr 30:11-14). These words stood, like a kind mother, beside the demands of the First Principle and Foundation, urging me to compliance. Yet I hesitated. I moved on into the sin of Adam and Eve; the Angels; the Prodigal Son--all meditated on against a background of Philippians 2:1-11, Baruch 1:13-22 and 63, and Ephesians 1:13- 14 and all deepening in me an appreciation of the heinousness of sin. Karl Rahner says (I quote from memory), "I need to see sin, not so much as an offence against God, but rather as a rebuff against Jesus personally," and "I see him wasting there on the cross--for us--and ~eeing him in such plight, I make my deci-sion." It is difficult to take a detached view of sin with words like that running round one's mind. As the first week was coming to a close, the next commit-ment point was drawing near, the Kingdom meditation with its inbuilt self-offering; and yet I had still not made the First Principle and Foundation my own. I felt discouraged. If I could not per-sonalize the sentiments of the First Principle and Foundation, was there any point in going on? I told Margaret of my difficulty. She suggested rewriting it in language I would feel at home with. And that proved to be the answer. It was the stiff, masculine lan-guage that was getting in the way. After rewriting it in my own words, I could accept what Deuteronomy had been trying to tell me. On the seventh evening Margaret said that tomorrow would be a repose day. She explained what this meant: one prayer period this evening, a good night's sleep, then, after morning Mass, out for the day; on my return in the evening, one more prayer period 524 Review for Religious before she came to see me. She gave me a few ideas as to where I could go. I chose Llangollen: it seemed a place where I could continue to be quiet while doing something different. The Kingdom Meditation-- and Some Sort of Disturbance The meditation given me for the eve of the repose day was the Kingdom, so after supper, and with my inner eye on my day out, I settled down to this period of reflective prayer--and it all went wrong. The whole hour tumbled around in a confusion of despon-dency and misery. I saw myself as a hypocrite and a fool and felt sick with disappointment and embar-rassment. I was not being called as Rahner sug-gested; this was all totally beyond me regardless of Deuteronomy; there was nothing here for me. Some of us are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. Illusion would get me nowhere, and get-ting nowhere was costing a lot of money and time. Leaving my room, I went out into the garden. The moon was riding high, swiftly brushing aside the small clouds which, busy about their own affairs, were trotting along in the opposite direc-tion. Shadows flitted about the garden, and some-where nearby an owl hooted. Further away a dog was barking, but it soon trailed off into a lazy yawn--his heart just was not in it. And here, under the canopy of deep sky, my thought slowly came together and clarified; I began to see what was going on. I returned to my room and found my crucifix and holding it firmly commanded, in the name and power of the crucified and resur-rected Christ, everything not of God to depart. I repeated the command twice. The result: "The storm abated and there was a great calm" (Mk 4:39). Without further ado I made my Kingdom offering as given by Ignatius, went to bed, and slept. Some of US are destined for mediocrity; I was obviously one such. The First Repose Day A glorious day of sunshine and Welsh mountains. A ride on the Railway Enthusiasts' railway from Llangollen along the moun-tainside to Deeside Halt; a leisurely walk by the canal where later I sat and ate my sandwiches while watching boys--up to the age ~uly-Aug'ust 1993 525 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed of forty plus--playing with their boats. Full of fresh air and peace, I returned to Corwen on an early evening bus. Each turn in the road presented a different scene to delight the heart, and I found myself silently singing the word of St. Francis's Canticle of the Sun: "All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made., and first for Brother Sun. how beautiful he is! How radiant!., and Brothers Wind and Air. and all the weathers' moods . " It seemed so appropriate. (Something I discovered during these thirty days was that Francis and Ignatius have much in common.) After supper Margaret came, and I told her of the previous night's upset. She said it was to be expected and then referred me to the description of discernment of spirits in the Exercises, where it was all clearly set out. The important thing, she said, was that I had made the Kingdom offering. Much was gained and nothing at all lost. The Second Week (Eleven Days) And so into the second week. I traveled far in that week. Journeying with Jesus through his life in the given meditations, I became aware of another journey I was making, toward a deeper commitment--and yet my previous fear of.fidl commitment reared up again and again. The demand was too clear, too total, too final. There was no space for maneuver. I stalled badly and frequently during that week. Margaret advised me to use the First Principle and Foundation offering and also the Kingdom offering as ways into the given meditations. She also gave me some salutary advice: "Don't try to give today what properly belongs to tomorrow." "The grace for the future is not yet being offered." I remembered similar advice given me in the past. As a young sister I had made a group retreat under a Carmelite friar. In one of his talks he said that many people fail to advance because they quail before what they fear may be asked of them if they say an unreserved yes. They forget that God is totally to be trusted and would never take unfair advantage of a generous yes. A superior, at a later date, took up the same theme with me (it seems I have had this lack-of-trust problem forever!) and said: "The Lord is total courtesy. He doesn't grab. He looks at what you have and asks 'May I take this?' If you refuse, he will not insist--for the time being any-way." Urn--for the time being. 526 Review for Religious The Two Standards and the Three Classes of Men These meditations caused the same problem that the First Principle and Foundation and the Kingdom had caused; as I saw it, all called for total and irrevocable commitment. Again I had to remind myself of what Margaret had said and what the Carmelite friar and my own superior had said when I was just knee high in my religious life. I spent long hours beg-ging the grace of trust. I tried to reset my focus and not waste precious time looking at abstract problems and missing the grace of reality. I turned to St. Francis at this stage and found his presence a great comfort. On the twentieth day, after lots of struggle but also tremendous peaks of joy and achievement, Margaret suggested I spend one day drawing the experience of the entire two weeks together and then summarize it in a truth-ful prayer of offering. As I set about doing this, I found it amaz-ing how I could look back along the road I had traveled and see so clearly the efforts, frustrations, joys, hopes, gains, losses, and desires and the loneliness and--running in and out of it all like a flame in dry grass--the'fear. And yet ~omehow it all came together with a marvelous coherence: everything fitted. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. I had definitely moved. I had moved light years from where I had been two weeks previously. For better or for worse, I had moved. The agonizing lack of trust, the fears, the anxieties were all part of this pattern of walking. The Lord had supplied where I had been weak. Together we had made it through these two weeks. He had blessed me beyond all imagining and had accepted my desire as though it were something of substance. I was content. On the twenty-second day, a repose day, I went to Ruthin and presume I had a relaxed day, but I have no memory of it. Without the brief note in my journal saying I had been there, I would not know I had. What that says about me I have no idea. I could see, with a rare clarity, that God was with me. I had moved. The Third Week (Five Days) Margaret moved me into the last earthly days of Jesus. Over the next days, spread over five one-hour meditation periods, which j~¢O-dugust1993 527 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed included a midnight hour, I contemplated the Lord at the Last Supper, Gethsemane, and Calvary and right through to the postresurrecfion period. Having visited the Holy Land many times while living in the Middle East, I found it very easy to situate these meditations, but somehow the depths eluded me. On the twenty-fourth day Margaret suggested that I spend four of my five one-hour prayer periods reading through the four different accounts of the Passion. Anyone who has done this in one day will know it does not come easy. Physically it is draining to read something of that nature and length with concentration. By the evening it had quite taken me over, and after supper I went for a long walk, but somehow I could not shake off (was I even meant to?) the felt heaviness of trudging the Calvary road four times. Another Disturbance It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. During the night I woke in the grip of a strange tension, feel-ing physically cold and frightened. I have never been especially brave, but I am not given to irrational fear, and this sense of men-ace was wholly irrational; yet it made me feel that, if I did not give up this retreat, it would break me. For several minutes I did nothing beyond switching on the light and allowing the fear to swamp me. Fear of what? I could put no name to it. Then I remembered Margaret's words, based on those of Ignatius: "It is common for the evil spirit to cause sad-ness, fear, discouragement, and acute anxiety and to place all sorts of obstacles in the way of right reason. The good spirit gives courage, strength, inspiration, light, and peace so that right reason will prevail. Learn to distin-guish." Once again I reached for my crucifix and holy water and followed my previous routine. All returned to normal, but it took some time. The twenty-sixth day I spent quietly looking back over the entire Passion. It proved to be a very hard day. It is not easy to stay with someone in agony while knowing you are part responsible. On the twenty-seventh day, another repose day, I went to Lake Bala. It was a beautiful day, but too hot. Tourists and pic-nickers were all over the place--not helpful. I found the Catholic 528 Review for Religious church, a small converted stable. It was very peaceful, and I stayed quietly there for some time before boarding the bus for the ride home through heart-lifting scenery. The Fourth Week--Coming to the End I was now coming to the end of this whole experience, and Margaret suggested moving back from five to four periods of prayer, 6mitring the night one. She also brought me a tape recorder and some classical-music tapes. Winning some grand prize could not have brought me more joy. I was ecstatic. On the twenty-eighth day I meditated on John 20:11-18, Mary Magdalen's encounter with Jesus in the garden, with Isaiah 30:18- 26 and 35:1-10 as background. I also used Luke 24:13-35, the Emmaus story, with Psalm 62 as background. I became quite filled with the quiet. Jesus' sufferings were over. His pain was finished. I was able to walk calmly in the garden with Mary Magdalen--you see, I knew the answer to her question. The Emmaus road also was peaceful. Again I had the advantage: I knew who he was. All this was leading me quite naturally into the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love. From the twenty-ninth day onward I used this con-templation for one period each day, the other three periods cov-ering postresurrection Scripture. I continued my daily walks in the serene countryside, which for me became Galilee, where Jesus said he wo~ld meet his friends again and where I myself have walked many times. A Final Disturbance One meditation, on the thirtieth day, was given over to the events that include Jesus cooking breakfast for his hungry disci-ples. As I moved further into the scene, it all changed and became blasphemous; but I did not recognize it as such. My discerning powers were, it seemed, in suspension. During Mass the follow-ing morning I became aware that something had been very wrong with that meditation. I looked back at it and saw immediately the gross irreverence of the scenes which had been presented to my view. I was aghast and marveled that I had not realized at the time what was going on. I went hotfoot to Father Joseph after Mass and poured out my sorry story. He took it all very calmly--as con-fessors are apt to do--and explained how the devil will use every July-August 1993 529 Corona ¯ God's Human Face Revealed possible means to stop a person pursuing a course that has as its aim a closer union with God. Margaret, of course, said the same thing. The experience left me with a profound disgust of the one who works such evil things. The Final Days The thirty-first and final day arrived. I drew together the ele-ments of the four key meditations--the Kingdom, the Two Standards, the Three Classes of Men, the Three Modes of Humility. I then moved them into a prayer of offering that I tried to make utterly truthful and realistic for me. Later that day I had a final few words with Father Joseph and returned the keys of the church. Back at the house I had a last talk with Margaret and my retreat was over. The following day I left Corwen and--via Wrexham, Chester, Crewe, Euston, and Plaistow, changing train or bus at each one--I arrived home in London. Eighteen Months Later Days have built on days, and a year and a half has passed since my long retreat. By now it should have gone the way of all the others. It has not done so. Father Joseph's words during our final talk, "You will never be the same again, this experience has changed you," have stayed with me; I know them to be true. That retreat has changed many things. It has set sin in its right context, one which makes scant distinction between small and big offenses. It has cleared away any number of secondary purposes and under-lined the one purpose for which I was born. It has filled my store-rooms with kindling, that I may not perish when my winter fires burn low. It has increased my recovery rate, so that sin and repen-tance are almost simultaneous. It has brought a staying power I never thought to possess; a strength to stay with prayer even when, apparently, there is nothing in it to stay for. It has brought an acceptance that I am as I am and, as far as performance goes, the future will not be much different; progress will still be wob-bly, with backward steps, with fears and sin. But this acceptance of my situation has brought a new dependence; I know I will make it through to the end if I cling like a limpet to Christ. There is, quite simply, no other way. 530 ' Re~ie~ for Religious The Human Face of God But overriding and underpinning all this is the greatest change of all. I am aware that, through all the contemplations of that month, even those during which I was distracted, irritated, fidgety, or just plain bored, God was working. He was working as one whose work it is to take an old manuscript, mosaic, or fresco and restore it to its original beauty; he was etching and bringing into relief, for me personally, the lines of his own human face. I can no longer think of God without, at the same time, seeing Christ; I see him, in some small measure, as Francis of Assisi saw him in great, in the people, however seemingly insignificant, and in the events, however trivial, that form th~ fabric of my everyday life. This new vision is the greatest grace to accompany me into these, the afterdays. The word "Wales" will never again mean for me just a geo-graphical place, hut rather will set a pause for remembering: remembering that revelation did not end with the Apocalypse; remembering how God revealed his face to me in Wales; remem-bering how something of beauty was planted within me and has, in spite of me, continued to grow. My life has become perma-nently divided into "before Wales" and "after Wales." And it all started way back in Jordan, where I "hungered for liberation" and knew myself "intent on hearing an utterance of God never given before" (in the words of McGann and Rahner) and felt strongly impelled, Franciscan and all that I am, to take up the invitation to an Ignatian experience. That, and so much more, is what my long retreat was all about. 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 distri-bution, advertising, or institutional promotion or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be consid-ered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. July-August 1993 531 TAD DUNNE What Trouble Is spiritual life Most of us, at some lull in the cacophony of life, think to ourselves, "I really should be a person who . " And we take some stand on avoiding trouble. Of course, trouble wears many hats. There is the regular trouble of having to learn through our mistakes. There is our unwitting igno-rance of the times when our behavior makes others roll their eyes. Or maybe the trouble is our own doing, like the lies we lay on others and the follow-up work we lay on ourselves just to keep our stories straight. Or like the legacy of emotional trouble callous parents bequeath to their children that continues long after they have died and the children have grown up. The stand we take to avoid trouble is usually rather elemental. We hope a simple strategy can meet every kind of trouble coming our way. Not that we succeed. Indeed, the reason we do not succeed may well be that the way we defined our troubles was a big mistake. This is why, for many of us, our images of God are shaped less by our experience of divine help or by the Scriptures and more by how we conceptualized our getting into trouble in the first place. When people describe their spiritual journeys to me, they usually divide the chapters according to this or that difficulty from which God delivered them, but the difficulties were defined very often by simple earthly sym-bols, not by any measures drawn from revelation. Tad Dunne writes on contemporary spirituality. His address is 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. 532 Review for Religious We get most of the symbols of our troubles from the drama of everyday life--a vacillating boss, a domineering spouse, hard work with no reward, bad weather, and so on. But where people draw the line on what is unacceptable to them will vary nation to nation, old to young, woman to man, race to race. So, before we assume that our view of trouble is totally objective, we need to look instead at the experiences of trouble common to everyone. Then we can look at what the gospel says about trouble and make comparisons about what we have observed. Our universally common experiences of trouble lie not in the dramatic but in the practical patterns in our experiences--expe-riences like carrying burdens, feeling slowed down, running into roadblocks, taking chances and missing, setting schedules and failing to meet them, planting seeds that produce puny fruit, arranging our surroundings carefully and finding that the sur-roundings have trapped us. Everyone, in any culture, grows up with these practical troubles and looks for ways to overcome them. The Example of Physics For the sake of talking about these analogs of our miseries, it will help to classify them. One simple way follows the example of physics. In physics we expect events to occur either in a natural relationship to other events or just coincidentally. While physicists talk about the naturally related events by using terms like elec-tromagnetism, gravity, or inertia, children simply notice that when A happens, then B usually happens. Behind the merely coinci-dental events lie no laws at all, so physicists talk about probabil-ities and norms while ordinary people talk about taking chances and seizing once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Each of these two kinds of expectations, of regularity and of chance, gets frustrated in its own way. Regularity is frustrated when a routine is broken or a law is not followed. Chance is frus-trated when overcontrol eliminates the lucky chance or when exceptions to the rule are somehow ruled out of court. But each kind excludes the other, and so, pressured as we ar.e by this intrin-sic antinomy to Choose only one as our fundamental code for translating experience into meaning, some of us worship a God of Law and others a God of Freedom. The Broken Routine. The God of Law is incarnated in our ear- 3~uly-August 1993 533 Dunne ¯ What Trouble Is God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. liest teacher of regularity: the sun. It gives us as children a sym-bol of what it means to be faithful, kindly, and dependable. We learn at an early age what our race took eons to formulate in a principle: that bodies in motion keep going and bodies at rest stay where they are. If only people could be that orderly! So we experience the trouble of broken routine. Things are going smoothly and something interrupts. Interruptions and contradictions are our enemies, though we can never fully avoid them. Better calm down and do what God expects and all shall be well. Pity those who live in chaos, who seem never to settle down, who spend their lives searching for they know not what. They could well learn a lesson from nature that life lies in regu-larity and dependability. This elemental experience of day alter-nating with night has a remarkable influence on the loftiest and most religious levels of our psyches. We imagine the kingdom of God as a smooth meshing of generation upon generation of peo-ple, as if the oiling of divine grace was meant to eliminate all fric-tion between people. God is an implacable and consistent Trinity, a perfect community, an example which every human family and nation is called to imitate as far as possible. God brings salvation by giving laws to maintain order and by raising up saints to serve as our examples. Life is essentially a struggle of law and order over anarchy and extreme independence. OvercontroL The second kind of trouble is practically the oppo-site of the first. As the first kind loves controls, the second hates them. At some time in our growing up, when we discover that we have taken too many of our parents' controls to heart, we start to wriggle free of them. We take a chance. When governments lay such heavy controls on people that hardly anything is left to chance, we condemn them. The worst kind of control, of course, is self-imposed--when I make more resolutions than I could pos-sibly keep or when I forbid myself to ever try anything daring or maturing. Trouble is anything that impedes probabilities. These elemental experiences tell us that God is a God of free-dom, calling us to a radical trust in all we do. The voice is per- 534 Review for Religious vasive: Let go of trying to control everything and everyone; you are ruining yourself in the process and will never succeed in any case. God will never lay a load on your back without also giving you a strohg back with which to carry it. "Look at the birds of the air . " Human planning is largely a waste of time. The goals of our endeavors so seldom match their outcomes that it is a won-der we keep on setting goals. God will intervene at the oppor-tune moment; divinity cannot be pinned down to laws and predictability. And so on. The Example of Biology Notice how these first two kinds of order and trouble are dis-tinguished by whether or not individual events are either part of some repeating cycle or the result of mere chance. We can also look at sequences of events or stages in something undergoing development. Again, to keep this simple, we can distinguish two fundamental kinds of development, those driven by a single law or principle and those driven by forces only coincidentally related to each other. The single-law kind can be illustrated by seeds. Tulip bulbs develop tulips, not dandelions, and, within quite narrow ranges of development, tulips everywhere look alike. Multiple-principle development can be represented by human relation-ships. People's values differ from each other across the face of the earth far more than tulips do. The reason is that the genetic coding in the fertilized egg that each of us once was does not confine the range of our potential development anywhere near as tightly as the tulip's coding does. Growing up, we continually "recode" ourselves by our choices. By interacting with others we develop in dialectical fashion, making something unrepeatable of both ourselves and our surroundings. If both the genetic (single-law) and the dialectical (multiple-principle) kinds of development are elemental,-then we can expect them to precondition what we mean by trouble and, by exten-sion, what we mean by God's saving grace. Again, the dichotomy between these two kinds of development tends to force a reli-gious choice between a God of Success and what I shall call a God of Exchange. The Weeds among the Wheat. One kind of trouble is caused by bad beginnings. It concerns anyone anxious to make continual July-August 1993 535 Dunne ¯ 14/-bat Trouble Is growth and progress, anyone who worships the God of Success. Long before people study genetics in biology, they experience built-in potentials and patterns of growth everywhere, in flow-ers, birds, and house pets. But some elements interfere with nat-ural fulfillment and choke the natural process of growth. These elements may be people, who themselves have been affected by their own upbringing. The notion here is that people are basi-cally good and that, given rich soil and hearty fertilizer, every person and every project will turn out a success. The worst form of this kind of trouble shows when a person feels predestined to fail because of some original and irreparable personality flaw. If we develop sheerly by genetic laws, then it would follow that God calls us to be creators, to overcome obstacles, and to keep a positive spirit. There is no doubt that the kingdom will come; the inner workings of grace in history guarantee it, sure as an acorn will become an oak. Our job is simply to help it come more quickly. It will be a kingdom of exciting new discoveries, increasing cooperation among all people, and continual improve-ment in people's health and happiness. The Good News is simply the announcement that Jesus loves you and that you have the germ of grace within you. Sin is ignorance, not malice. Evangelization is chiefly education; moral reform will follow auto-matically. In the meantime, we are called to grow in holiness, to grow closer and closer to God like a blossoming flower. Hoarding Energy. This fourth kind of trouble is also about growth, but the pattern of development is determined by a series of events related to each other only by chance. We notice how living things are determined not only by origins or seeds but through a continual exchange with their environments. Here biol-ogy studies how living things give and take within their ,sur-roundings. Flowers give honey to bees while the bees ensure progeny for the flowers. While genetic coding strictly limits any one bee's behavior, the location of beehives and the proliferation of flowers are interdependent. Should a storm wipe out one, the other soon disappears. So nature's contentious personality gives us a symbol of a God of give-and-take, a historical God, an engaged God. Farmers plow their fields and their fields return corn. The better the plowing the better the corn and the better the farmer. The quality of the exchange has a dialectical effect on both sides. 536 Revieva for Religious The same goes for the growth and decay of our friendships. Eventually the friendship is either good for both of us or good for neither one. Trouble comes when things cost more than they return. If a boy exasperates his friends by compulsive chatter, he does not feel energized. He wears everyone out, including himself. Then there is the trouble we cause when we take more from the phys-ical environment than we contribute to it, as is evident in oil spills, acid rains, and fluorocarbon-charged spray cans. Whatever the case, there is trouble eithe

Issue 55.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1996. ; fo r reli ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1996 ¯ VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER3 Revtew fo~r .Reli~tous tS a ~orum fo~r Shared reflection on the~ liVed :experie~ice @ all Who find that :the~.churCb's~ rico bemtaffes ~o~ ,sptntuaht~ "sul~OOrt the~r pdrsonal: ~a~d: apostoli~ :~e~a~cles ~tn the~jou~al are ;meant ~to~ ~e t~foNat~ve~ :~radt~dal~.~o~ in~p~at~nal, wH~en~om a th~lO~ic~l or so~nmt or:somenmes mnontcat oo~nt ot vtew,~ , : Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthlv 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 St. Bernadette Convent ¯ 76 Universit3, Blvd. East ¯ Silver Spring, MD 20901 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. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Chris~ar~ ]~er~tages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1996 ¯ VOLUME 55 ¯ NUMBER 3 230 The Ecclesiology of the U.S. Bishops' 1994 Healthcare Directives John A. Gallagher develops some implications of the ecclesiology underlying the mission, governance, and partnership found in Catholic healthcare services. 249 264 Abandonment That Enlivens and Sets Fire for Mission George Aschenbrenner SJ develops a spirituality of abandonment as central to the stability and identity of a religious congregation in respect to its mission, community, authority, and obedience. Gathering the Fragments: New Times for Obedience Judith A. Merkle SNDdeN explores obedience as affective bonding and the challenge this call presents personally, congregationally, and ecclesially. Review for Religious 283 297 Acknowledging the Gift of Gay Priestly Celibacy William McDonough presents a case for the timeliness of acknowledging the homosexual orientation of gay celibate priests as a gift to the church. HIV Testing of Seminary and Religious-Order Candidates James F. Keenan SJ reviews reasons for and against HIV testing for priesthood and religious-life candidates and suggests some ethical standards that need to be observed. 315 A Call for a Bespoke Revival of a Hijacked Tradition Bertrand Webster FMS suggests a number of ways to update our use of the rosary for both individual and communal devotion. ,~ 228 Prisms 320 Canonical Counsel: General Chapters: Historical Background 326 Book Reviews May-3~ene 1996 prisms Nostalgia becomes a fitti'ng characteristic of the poet Homer's Odysseus--in the midst of all his travels and adventures he is driven by an aching desire to return to his island home and his wife, Penelope. A contemporary dictionary builds upon the original Greek root of nostalgia, expanding its meaning from a home-sickness to the wistful and sometimes abnormal yearning for a return to some fondly remembered season of life or an unrepeatable dream. It seems to be natural for many of us to harbor a certain nostalgia for the past--either what we have experienced or, perhaps, what we have only read or heard about. Movies or television docudramas are often quite suc-cessful in evoking an appreciation of a past with a sim-pler lifestyle or less complicated human relationships. Even reading the Gospels can sometimes lead us to express the wish that we "could have lived at the time of Jesus." The nostalgia to have been among the crowd listening to Jesus speaking out the beatitudes or among the thousands fed by Jesus' miracle of the loaves and fishes receives a rude awakening when we realize that, likely enough, we would have been among those who walked away and went about their ordinary duties of life. In our daily examen of consciousness, we find that we ignore and walk away even now from the many Christs who enter our day. The church of the 13th and 14th centuries--the peak-ing of scholastic theological developments--was in fer-ment from the press of many ideas. The controversies which resulted were often worked through over long peri-ods in a debate form called quaestiones disputatae (disputed questions). The question was a technique to explore the Review for Religious writings of authorities in conflict and the process of conflicting argumentation. Today we sometimes get glimpses of this method in writings found in the medical and health-science fields. Although we may unconsciously idealize the civility of these olden theological discussions, perhaps without too much nostalgia we can appreciate an inquiring drive toward new understanding that is often missing from church life today. Maybe, with computer knowledge banks and television soundbite news, we all have become impatient with debate and discussion; we want only answers and truths and none of the messiness of living with our own responsible choice among some merely provisional under-standings available to us. God's revelation finds its fulfillment in Christ; yet even if revealed truth is complete, it remains for Christian faith to grasp its full significance over the course of centuries. Since the truth of the church's witness is still human truth, we need to ask ourselves the question: Should we not expect disputes and controversies in our theological developments and pastoral practices just as there are in other human disciplines? Consecrated life in the life of the church is not disputed, but how it fits within church structure, what new forms it takes along-side older ones, how to work out the relationship of religious superiors and bishops, and what roles consecrated life plays within the local church are some of the ongoing questions addressed in Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation under date of 25 March 1996. The letter is the pope's reflections on the October 1994 Synod of Bishops on the consecrated life and its mission in the church and in the world. The pope's letter brings a closure to the synod and at the same time opens out its workings into the future. As one. who exhorts, the pope sees the questions around conse-crated life as reason to commit ourselves with fresh enthusiasm. He sees that the church stands in need of the spiritual and apos-tolic contribution of a renewed and revitalized consecrated life. As a resource for continuing this discussion about consecrated life, a new book, The Church and Consecrated Life, is being pub-lished by Review for Religious. The book includes a review of the official church documents on consecrated life since, Vatican a number of exploratory articles, and the pope's apostolic exhor-tation. The book is available from our St. Louis office; the cost is $20 which includes postage and handling. David L. Fleming SJ May-J, ote 1996 JOHN A. GALLAGHER The Ecclesiology of the U.S. Bishops' 1994 Healthcare Directives "Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services" has been published now for about a year.' Sponsors (religious institutes, commonly), board mem-bers, and managers of Catholic healthcare organizations have had the time to reflect upon this new promulgation of directives. What new elements do they find? What will they need to assimilate into their decision-making pro-cesses and their Catholic healthcare operations in order to respond appropriately to this teaching of the American bishops? Interestingly, what is most innovative in this set of directives and most clearly different from the 1971 set is not new or more nuanced ethical teaching. Most of the individual directives are unchanged or only minimally changed. Afterations in specific ethical directives are attributable to statements from the Roman curia (for example, the responsum on uterine isolation) and to changes in the healthcare delivery system in the United States (see Part 6, Forming New Partnerships with Health Care Organizations and Providers). Perhaps the most provoca-tive ethical change can be found in Directive 57, which asserts that "excessive expense [to] the family or the com-munity" can render a life-prolonging intervention an "extraordinary" means and thus a morally optional one. The addition of "community" to the classic definition of John A. Gallagher is director for corporate ethics for the Holy Crbss Health System. His address is 3606 East Jefferson Boulevard; South Bend, Indiana 46115. Review for Religious what constitutes an extraordinary means of prolonging life will probably become controversial in a healthcare system increas-ingly dominated by managed care. What is more distinctly new in the 1994 "Directives" is the ecclesiology that can be perceived as a consistent undercurrent throughout the document. Ecclesiology is the theological disci-pline that attempts to understand what the church is, how it is related to the wider world, and how persons within the church (clergy, religious, laity) are related to one another and the church as a whole; "Directives" is not a treatise on the church. But it is concerned to identify the mission of Catholic healthcare within the mission of the church as a whole, to outline a governance structure for Catholic healthcare vis-~l-vis the local ordinary, and to set limits to cooperative arrangements between Catholic health organizations and healthcare providers daat are not Catholic. This underlying ecclesiology constitutes the truly innovative aspect of "Directives." This inchoate episcopal teaching merits serious the-ological consideration by the sponsors and leaders of Catholic healthcare. TheMission of Catholic Healthcare and the Church's Mission How convenient it would be to begin with a definition of church. But mysteries are not readily captured in crisp definitions. Theologians have contented themselves with speaking of the marks or characteristics of the church (one, holy, catholic, apos-tolic). The fathers of Vatican Council II frequently employed analogies from Scripture to provide clarification concerning the nature of the church. The closest they came to a definition was to assert, in Lumen gentium, that the church is the visible sacrament of the saving unity offered to people through the redemptive work of Christ (LG §9). In his masterful Models of the Church, Avery Dulles SJ pro-posed five models, analogies which enable some further under-standing of the mystery of the church? These models are derived from ecclesiologies developed by various theologians to portray what they believed to be the essential characteristic of the church. The models describe the church as institution, mystical commu-nion, sacrament, herald, and servant. Dulles's argument is that, though the church is no one of these models, its identity can be May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives partially clarified through reflection upon each of them. In a sub-sequent edition Dulles added a sixth model, the church as a com-munity of disciples, to emphasize the inherent cohesiveness and unity among the models and indeed of the church itself. The mission of the church pertains to its activities as a "fel-lowship of life, charity, and truth" founded by Christ to be his "instrument for the redemption of all" (LG §9; see also Ad gentes §5). Note that the mission of the church is simply another man-ner of speaking about what the church is; "mission" is a clarifi-cation, not the addition of some further information. The church is its mission. To assert that the church is "visible sacrament" is to clarify both what the church is and what it does. So with each of Dulles's models: they portray not only what the church is, but also what it does. The church is an institution, and many of its activities result from the fact that it has social, legal, and hierar-chical structures. The church is a mystical communion which unites those who are within it and identifies its relationship with other religious groups. The church as sacrament is the visible symbol of the redemptive work of Christ; its activities are symbols having their effect in the world today. The church as herald pro-claims Jesus' redeeming gospel. The church as servant extends its witness into the secular world. The mission of Catholic healthcare is but one manifestation of the mission of the church as a whole; it partakes in that visible sacrament of redemption, in that mystery which is the church's very being. The mission of the church is manifested also in Catholic parochial life, in education, and in various charitable enterprises. The healing mission of Jesus, "Directives" asserts, touches all of Catholic healthcare: The mystery of Christ casts light on every facet of Catholic healthcare: to see Christian love as the animating princi-ple of healthcare; to see healing and compassion as a con-tinuation of Christ's mission; to see suffering as a participation in the redemptive power of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection; and to see death, transformed by the resurrection, as an opportunity for a final act of com-munion with Christ. ("Directives" booklet, p. 6) Thus, Catholic healthcare is a particular specification of the mission of the church itself. As the documefits of Vatican II say with regard to missionary endeavors, so also with regard to Catholic healthcare, "the differences to be found in this activity Review for Religious of the church do not result from the inner nature of her mission itself, but are due rather to the circumstances in which this mis-sion is exercised" (AG §6). "Directives" (p. 1) indicates that a major reason why a revision was needed was developments within the church: changes in reli-gious orders and congregations, the increased involvement of lay men and women, a heightened awareness of the church's social role in the world, and developments in moral theology. Another major reason was the reconfiguration of the American healthcare system. The acute-care hospital and the long-term- care facility, the two places where most Catholic healthcare has been provided, are being incorporated nowadays into integrated delivery systems. Catholic healthcare organi-zations are b.ecoming owners or partners of these systems or are providing services within them and thus are assuming some fundamen-tally new obligations. Accordingly it became necessary to reflect anew on Catholic health-care's mission. But why explicitly? With Catholic health-care now consisting of myriad structures and organizations by which an array of healthcare services is provided to individual persons and communities, what the new "Directives" intends to accomplish is "a theological basis for the Catholic healthcare ministry" (p. 2). The healthcare ministry has always been manifested in the activities of physicians and nurses, orderlies and aides; women and men dedicated to care of the poor, the dying, the homeless. This ministry was in part animated by people's desire to mirror the healing mission of Jesus. In the United States, Catholic healthcare ministry has, along with the witness of these many individuals, also been closely identified with the healthcare institutions that many religious congregations have sponsored and governed. Now, however, as "Directives" notes, lay people are increasingly emerg-ing as the leaders of this ministry. "Directives," which is "con-cerned primarily with institutionally based Catholic healthcare services" (p, 2), is intended to provide a theological basis for con-temporary Catholic healthcare ministry because this ministry must increas.ingly receive its theological impetus from the apos-tolic endeavors of lay people rather than from the church- What the new "Directives" intends to accomplish is "a theological basis for the Catholic healthcare ministry." May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiolog~ of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives approved constitutions and the apostolic vision of sponsoring congregations. This point is crucial for understanding the ecclesiology of "Directives." Catholic healthcare in the United States has almost exclusively been the ministry of religious women. As the number of religious available for the ministry continues to decline, lay women and men, i~acluding indeed a significant number of non- Catholics, have become leaders of the Catholic healthcare min-istry. From the perspective of the mission of the church and the perspective of lay Catholics, this is a major development. Laypersons are now leaders of an institutional Catholic ministry, roles traditionally reserved to clerics and religious. Lay people are no longer at the periphery; no longer just collaborators, they are increasingly the major participants. The laity has always had a role in fulfilling the mission of the church. The apostolate of the laity has generally been construed as bringing the mission of the church into the secular world. Lumen gentium defines the lay apostolate as "a participation in the saving mission of the church itself" and describes the role of the laity as making "the church present and operative in those places and circumstances where only through them can she become the salt of the earth" (§33). The lay apostolate, however, has generally been embodied in the activities of individual Catholic men and women. In their lives of service as doctors, lawyers, judges, and teachers, they concomitantly witnessed to the saving mystery of Christ. They sometimes joined associations of Catholic lawyers or doctors and sometimes taught or practiced in a Catholic college or hospital, but for the most part their apos-tolate was conducted outside an institution officially associated with the mission of the church. If Catholic lay-persons chose to carry out their apostolate in a Catholic school or hospital, it was the priests or religious who were the sponsors and administra-tors. It was the presence of priests and religious that both canon-ically and de facto gave the institution its Catholic identity and its link to themission of the church. ~ Such an understanding of institutions as vehicles for the mis-sion of the church has become codified in canon law. The law strives to assure that the property and financial resources of such institutions will be used e~xclusively for the mission of the church (canon 1254, §2). When a bishop confers Catholic identity on an educational or healthcare institution, he expects that certain obli- Review for Religious gations of faith and administration will be embodied in the life of that organization.3 A Catholic institution ought to carry out its ministry in a manner that reflects the church's understanding of the gospel and the tradition. "Ethical and Religious Directives" is the episcopal effort to delineate at least some aspects of the church's current understanding of the gospel as it relates to the healthcare ministry. What is most innovative about "Directives" is that it acknowl-edges and endorses the leadership role of the laity in these insti-nations. In the past, as lay people participated in the ministry of priests and sisters, they were sometimes encouraged to model their lives on those of religious, to become mem-bers of third orders, in order to enter more fully into the ministry. But now laypersons qua laypersons are becoming the major par-ticipants in this ministry. In line with what Yves Congar OP wrote shortly after World War II, lay people in the American church have now begun to take part "in the hierar-chical apostolate, that is, in that sacred activ-ity., which defines the church's proper task and mission.''4 Thus "Ethical and Religious Directives" announces a significantly new manner in which the ministry of Catholic healthcare will be conducted in the 21 st century. This sort of development is occurring also in other institutional ministries of the church in the United States. The laity are increasingly being recruited into leadership positions on all levels of Catholic education, In a recent address Father Philip Murnion, director of the National Pastoral Life Center, said that "the fuimre of parish ministry, of educatior~, of pastoral care 'and the development of worship life will increasingly be in the hands of the laity."s The laity are fill-ing the vacuum created by the declining numbers of priests and religious active in the church's institutional life~ Therefore, as Ladislas Orsy SJ has recently suggested, the opinions and rec-ommendations of layperson~ will need to be'more fully integrated into institutional decision making within the church.6 If lay people are to constitute the staff and leadership of Catholic healthcare in the 21st century, how is that ministry to be "The future of parish ministry, of education, of pastoral care and the development of worship life will increasingly be in the hands of the laity." May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives theologically articulated? At the presenttime, mission statements and core values derived from the constitutions and way of life of the sponsoring congregations have provided the sense of purpose and direction that animates the ministry. But, as sponsorship becomes more tenuous and at some point no longer exists, what will replace it? At that point American Catholic healthcare will be drawn back to its ecclesial roots, to what is common to the founding congregations and to the lay apostolate and to the ministry of healthcare: the mission of the church. How the participants in Catholic healthcarewill articulate the relation between the mis-sion of the church and the ministry of healthcare in 2025 or 2050 lies far beyond the worries of current leaders of Catholic health-care. But it is the duty of those who live in a period of transition like ours to begin to make the theological transitions. Dulles's models, I believe, provide us with theological categories with which to begin such a reflection.7 The church as institution, sacrament, and mystical commu-nion will'always be central to its healthcare ministry because those words describe what the church is, as does the word mission. As an institutional ministry, Catholic healthcare must maintain its link to the church as institution. Catholic healthcare will always be sacramental; it will continue to serve as a symbol of the healing and caring ministry of Christ. The anointing of the sick, the sacra-ment of reconciliation, and especially the Eucharist will continue to be essential in Catholic healthcare's holistic healing ministry. Further, as an institutional ministry staffed by persons of many faiths and providing services to a culturally and religiously diverse population, the Catholic healthcare ministry will continue to be a sign of the church as mystical communion. In, a time of transition such as the present, however, and as "Directives" makes clear, there are dangers in the current envi-ronment which jeopardize this relationship. The three models we have just discussed will not be adequate to describe the Catholic healthcare of the 21st century. As laypersons increas-ingly become the bearers of the ministry of Catholic healthcare, it is the herald and servant models of the church that will best correspond to Catholic healthcare's activities. The servant model construes the church's activities in a sec-ular- dialogic model, "secular, because the church takes the world as a properly theological locus, and seeks to discern the signs of Review for Religiotts the times; dialogic, because it seeks to operate on the frontier between the contemporary world and the Christian tradition.''8 Patient care, relations with collaborators and other providers, and the governance and management of multibillion-dollar corpora-tions will increasingly draw the healthcare ministry into a world with which it can never be truly at ease and which it cannot con-trol; but it is the world in which the healthcare ministry will make present the saving mystery of Christ. Will Catholic healthcare as servant be able to have signifi-cant influence on the business and medical spheres which will shape its institutional presence in the world? The values of med-ical science and of business and the manner in which they affect the lives of individual persons and communities will be the socio-cultural matrix which the church as servant will seek to influence. The servant model directs the ministry of laypersons where it has traditionally been done, the secular world. But the lay people enter this world no longer as individuals, but with the collective power, influence, and responsibility associated with the leader-ship of an institutional ministry. The church as herald is, in a sense, the counterpart of the church as servant, The latter seeks to engage the secular world, to bring about at least a partial recognition of the human signifi-cance of gospel values. The church as herald, on the o.ther hand, does not seek the transformation of society, but contents itself with witnessing to the Word of God. The church is gathered by the Word of God which it has received as "an official message with the commission to pass it on.''9 The church as herald com-plements the church as servant by recalling to Catholic healthcare that fidelity to God's Word is the test of its collaboration in a secular world. The Governance Structure of Catholic Healthcare The 1971 version of "Ethical and Religious Directives" makes no specific reference to the role of the local bishop in regard to the affairs of Catholic healthcare organizations. The 1994 edi-tion, on the other hand, assigns a major role to the local bishop in the governance of healthcare organizations within the diocese. The healthcare ministry in a local diocese is an activity in which the diocesan bishop exercises responsibilities that are rooted in his office as pastor, teacher, and priest. As the center of Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiolo~mtof tbe 1994 Healtbcare Directives unity in the diocese and coordinator of ministries in the local church, the diocesan bishop fosters the mission of Catholic healthcare in a way that promotes collaboration among healthcare leaders, providers, medical profession-als, theologians, and other specialists. As pastor the dioce-san bishop is in a unique position to encourage the faithful to greater responsibility in the healing ministry of the church. As teacher the diocesan bishop ensures the moral and religious identity of the healthcare ministry in what-ever setting it is carried out in the diocese. As priest the diocesan bishop oversees the sacramental care of the sick. ("Directives," p. 4) Individual directives define the role of the local bishop in the founding of new Catholic healthcare facilities (no. 8), in the administration of the sacraments to non-Catholics (no. 20), and in the appointment of Catholic and non-Catholic chaplains (nos. 21, 22), especially the director of pastoral care (no. 21). Directive 37 proposes that there be some form of liaison between ethics committees and the local bishop. Part 6 deeply involves the :bishop in decisions of Catholic healthcare institutions concerning entrance into new partnerships and alliances. The local bishop is to be consulted (no. 67), and in some instances appropriate autho-rization or a nihil obstat is to be obtained from him. "Directives" of 1994 articulates a set of mutual responsibilities between the local bishop and the leadership of the healthcare ministries within the diocese. The issues posed by these aspects of "Directives" define how the governance of the bishop is to be exercised. These are fundamentally issues of ecclesiology, not of ethics or morality. Their purpose is to clarify the relationship of the local bishop to the ministries of Catholic healthcare in his diocese. The point is to specify the mutual responsibilities of bishops and the boards and senior management of Catholic healthcare orga-nizations. The more subtle and more important purpose is to maintain the link between the local church and its healthcare ministry. It will be important for Catholic healthcare and the bishops to consider whether this is the appropriate relationship. The ecclesiology of this section of "Directives" is based upon the canonical principle that a .bishop is subject to no higher author-ity in his diocese other than the pope (canon 381). But Catholic healthcare organizations and their member institutions crisscross diocesan lines. Indeed the healthcare ministry is partially set within individual dioceses, but its service and witness are spread Review for Religious to the American healthcare system as a whole. Although canoni-cally there is no such thing as the American Catholic church, it is within the publicly recognized reality of such an organization that the Catholic healthcare ministry exists. That the local bishop is the sole person with the authority to confer Catholic identity upon a new healthcare facility is certainly nothing new, nor is it riew that the bishop should have. a role in the appointment of Catholic chaplains and oversee the administration of the sacraments. Both of these activities pertain to the institutional and sacramental aspects of the church, which are at the heart of a bishop's ministry. What will require clarification is the role of bishops with regard to. ethics commit-tees and the formation of partnerships and other alliances. Ethics committees exist in virtually every Catholic hospital in the United States. They provide three functions. First, they offer edu-cational programs for physicians, nurses, and staff. Second, although they do not make patient-care decisions, they do provide consul-tation to patieni:s, families, nurses, and physi-cians concerning ethical issues that can arise in the course of patient care. Third, they collabo-rate with the officers and board of a hospital in writing policies on such issue~ as "do not resuscitate" orders, informed consent, and physician-assisted suicide. Through such policies Catholic hos-pitals have expressed their compliance with "Ethical and Religious Directives." Many Catholic hospitals possess written policies on abortion, sterilization, contraception, and euthanasia. Physicians, nurses, and other medical personnel practicing within the hospi-tal are expected to conform their treatment plans to the policies of the hospital. The work of the ethics committee is one of the places where Catholic healthcare as h~rald is particularly active. These com-mittees grapple with the concrete details of medical practice within an acute-care setting. The committees require the skills and knowledge base of physicians, nurses, ethicists, and hospital administrators. They apply ~he principles of Catholic healthcare to concrete patient-care decision~. They do so in an environment in which professional medical standards, patient preferences, the What will require clarification is the role of bishops with regard to ethics committees and the formation of partnerships and other alliances. May-J*lne 1996 Gallagber ¯ " Ecclesioloy~y._of tbe 1994 Healtbca~re_D__irec~'.v_e. ,s, desires of insurance companies and other payers, the dictates of civil law, and the teaching of the Catholic hierarchy may not be in agreement. As Catholic hospitals are progressively integrated into organized delivery systems, the work of the ethics commit-tees will need to migrate from the acute-care setting directly into the managed-care environment where the major policy and patient-care decisions will be made. In many instances the Catholic organization will be part of a larger whole; it will not have the same degree of control over policies and patient-care decisions that it has had in the past. If bishops or their representatives enter the deliberations of ethics committees with the same sense of purpose as other par-ticipants in the healthcare ministry, if they come as servants and as heralds, then they will be received as welcome collaborators. The work of ethics committees is very concrete; rarely is time devoted to the discussion of ethical theory or metaethics. Consensus is the mode of decision making on which these com-mittees thrive.I° Authoritarian interventions in the work of ethics committees simply will not work. They will drive away the col-laborators essential for the successful operation of a contemporary ethics committee. How the bishop chooses to interact with the ethics committees associated with healthcare ministries in his dio-cese will determine the contribution these interventions will make to the ministry of Catholic healthcare. A recent article by Kevin Wildes SJ deals with the role that the 1994 "Directives" ascribes to the local bishop. He concludes by saying that the ecclesiology of "Directives" marks a shift toward a top-down model in ecclesiology. The Catholic tradition, Wildes argues, has generally maintained an uneasy tension between those in authority (the pope, the bishops) and those considered to be authorities (theologians). Wildes's concern is that "Directives" gives the impression of being "an effort of those in authority to restrict the space and liberty of those who are an authority.''a~ Wildes's premonition must be taken seriously. The list of those who are authorities in the area of healthcare must include physi-cians, nurses, healthcare administrators, and an array of other professionals whose expertise is essential to the management of American healthcare organizations. Successful relationships among these professionals are based upon collaboration, trust, and a mutual sharing of values. Any form of authoritarianism which denies or rejects the integrity and professionalism of one's col- Review for Religious leagues will destroy the healthcare ministry, which can exist only in a world that does not completely share its values. The legitimate concerns of local bishops for the future of the healthcare ministry in their dioceses is obvious. In some places the institutions of Catholic healthcare are the most visible signs of the church in a diocese. Ethics committees within Catholic health-care organizations address issues that go to the heart of the mis-sion of Catholic healthcare, to the implementation of its fundamental purpose. "Directives" does not propose that the bishop or his representative be directly involved in the work of the committee. Rather, it says that there should be "appropriate stan-dards for medical ethical consultation within a particular diocese that will respecLthe diocesan bishop's pastoral responsibility as well as assist members of ethics committees to be familiar with Catholic medical ethics" (no. 3 7). The purpose of the directive can be most suitably fulfilled by the bishop's creation of a diocesan committee to inform and advise the bishop in the exercise of his stewardship of the healthcare ministry. Such diocesan committees, many of which are already in the process of formation, must be staffed by healthcare profes-sionals and theologians knowledgeable about the realities of the contemporary American healthcare delivery system. Where dio-ceses are small and lack appropriate resources or where diocesan boundaries overlap the service areas of Catholic healthcare min-istries, such committees could be established within regional or state episcopal conferences. In either case, such a committee offers the bishop the means of informing himself on the issues con-fronting the healthcare ministry before becoming directly involved. The Creation of New Partnerships Until relatively recently, Catholic healthcare organizations, like their counterparts in the overall American healthcare deliv-eW system, functioned as independent, autonomous institutions. If there were several Catholic hospitals or long-term-care facili-ties within a diocese, they existed in isolation from one another. There were few reasons for them to function conjointly. The reform of the healthcare delivery system within the United States has greatly altered this basic characteristic of the Catholic health-care ministry. Collaboration, partnerships, and alliances have replaced the earlier autonomy of American healthcare. May-June 1996 Gallagber * Ecclesioloffy of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives The many reasons underlying this ~ajor reconfiguration of the healthcare delivery system reasons already well known to sponsors, board members, and managers of Catholic he~althcare are not ~irectly germane to the purposes of this essay. The con-sequences of this realignment, 'however, are among the fundamental reastn~ for the revision of "Directives," with its emphasis on ecclesiology. The"buzzword in American healthcare is integration. A health- ~are organization, hospital, or long-term-care facility, must be integrated horizontally and vertically. Horizontal integration implies a collaboration or alliance among an array of healthcare organizati6ns that can provide all the services necessary to sustain the wellness and treat the illnesses of a covered 15opulation. Such an integrated delivery network (IDN) or organized deli,cery sys-tem (ODS) will contain primary-care and specialist physicians; ambulatory-care centers, labs and centers for diagnostic medicine, pharmacies, long-term-care facilities, and acute-care hospitals. Vertical integration, refers to the manner in which th6 IDN or ODS is aligned with a system of payers and insurance compianies that furnish the financial support for the network of providers. The stand-alone hospital or long-term-care facility has no future in a healthcare system based upon horizontal and vertical inte-gration. The question the mission and business question before every CathOlic healthcare organization over the past several years has been: With whom should it be a partner? Successful IDNs and ODSs have secured sources of revenue (payers, insurance companies)' and can offer an appropriate array of health services across a geographicalarea. Such IDNs and ODSs have set up rela-tionships with a large number of physicians, have made agree-ments with multiple providers Working together, and have entered into contracts with multiple suppliers of goods and services. These are large complex btisiness operations. Catholic healthcare orga-nizations seek either to become members of or to create such IDNs and ODSs as ways of resolving their business questions. But the presence of a Catholic healthtare organization within a viable IDN or ODS does not necegsarily ensure an appropria'te resolution to the mission quest!on. Can Catholic healthcare insti-tutions be pfir~ners with for-profit corporations? Can they be partners with institutions that provide abortions or other proce-dures that conflict with the "Ethical and Religious Directives"? Review for Religious Can the Catholic healthcare.minlstry retain its status as an instru-ment of the mission of the church in whatever sort of business,~ economic, or healthcare environment? Questions such as these are what induced the bishops to put Part 6 into "Directives" and to append their interpretation of formal and material cooperation. At the present time, Catholic healthcare organizations are developing and acting upon diverse answers to the mission question. Cardinal Bernardin is attempting to facilitate the development of an alliance among the Catholic hospitals of the Chicago archdiocese. Catholic Health Care West has created in California a statewide IDN/ODS that is composed largely of Catholic providers. In Indianapolis, St. Vincent's Hospital has created an alliance with Community Hospitals, a not-for-profit organization, in which other Catholic and non- Catholic organizations are in the process of seeking membership. Recently the Sisters of Charity of St. Augustine ~in Cleveland announced that their hospitals would be entering a partnership with Columbia/HCA, a for-profit hospital corporation. In each of these four very different IDNs/ODSs, the Catholic parties have contended that they are making a business ar}angement that is compatible with their healthcare ministry. "Directives" encourages the leaders of Catholic healthcare to consult with the local bishop and to seek his approval or nihil obstat in the creation of partnerships that will affect the organi-zati0n's mission (no. 68). This process of consultation and approval is a matter of central importance to the leadership of Catholic healthcare organizations as well as to the members of the hierar-chy. Ho~ it is to be conducted and what its goals are will be key factors in the success of such a process. Several directives touch upon issues internal to the process of consultation and approval. Directive 59 stipulates that the prin-ciples governing cooperation should be used to limit the partic-ipation of a Catholic organization in an alliance which provides services "judged morally wrong by the church." Such services, referred to elsewhere in "Directives," include abortion (no. 45), euthanasia (no. 60), direct st~erilization (no. 53), contraception The stand-alone hospital or long-term-care facility has no future in a healthcare system based upon horizontal and vertical integration. May-.]une 1996 Gallagber * Ecclesiolog~f tbe 1994 Healtbcare Directives (no. 52), and artificial fertilization that separates the unitive and procreative components of the marital act (nos. 40, 41). Scandal, the appearance of cooperating in and accepting as permissible an objectively immoral act, rnust be avoided in the partnerships entered into by Catholic healthcare ministries (no. 45). Of course, avoidance of scandal would be agreed to unhesi-tatingly by all parties to this process of consultation and approval. Scandal is a sin against charity, against the very bond that unites persons within the church. No participant in the Catholic health-° care ministry would willingly let the organization's activities be a source of scandal. The more likely discussion would focus on what, in fact, constitutes scandal. The concepts of formal and material cooperation in the evil of others have generally been the gauges used by moral theologians to make such a determination. It is at least questionable, however, whether this mode of moral reasoning will be sufficient to resolve the issues that currently confront the ministry of Catholic healthcare. The concepts of formal and material cooperation were devel-oped by theologians to resolve the qu.estion of the culpability of one person's cooperation in another's morally evil act. The clas-sic example in recent medical ethics has been the Catholic nurse who cooperates with a physician in performing an abortion. If the nurse's cooperation was simply to care for the woman after the procedure in a postoperative (post-op) area, her cooperation was generally deemed remote and material. Her actions were after the fact (remote) and incidental to the act of an abortive-proce-dure; she was simply providing care that would be provided to any post-op patient (material). Indeed, under the principles gov-erning cooperation, a nurse could assist in the abortive proce-dure by handing instruments to the physician if she did not intend the evil of abortion, was performing a task that was itself not immoral (simply handling the surgical instruments), was under duress to cooperate in the procedure (fear of loss of job), had voiced her opposition to the.' procedure, and was not repeatedly placed in this situation.12 The principles governing cooperation were developed to assist confessors in their assessment of the moral culpability of penitents coerced in some fashion to coop-erate in the evil of another. Can it be applied to the activities of healthcare institutions? Fathers James Keenan and Thomas Kopfensteiner, the authors of the appendix to "Directives" that defines the principles gov- Rewiew for Religiot~s erning cooperation, contend that such is the case.13 However, this issue requires further reflection. Certainly the decision-making processes of corporations and institutions are much more complex than those of individuals. Decision making in modem corporations and institutions is spread all through them. Corporate boards endorse or reject proposals made by CEOs and their senior man-agers; CEOs and their management teams approve or modify rec-ommendations from directors and managers. In the healthcare setting, physicians have a strong influence on decisions about healthcare delivery. Corporate decision making is the result of an ongoing, multileveled, integrated discourse that eventually reaches a decision. Although corporations and institutions are moral agents, their agency ought not be confused with that of individual persons. It will be from within the corporate structures which consti-tute the decision-making processes of the Catholic healthcare ministry that the future profile of that ministry will be discerned. If the principles governing cooperation assist some organizations in responding to the question of the manner in which their health-care ministry can be legitimately configured in an IDN/ODS, then clearly they should employ them. Many Catholic organiza-tions, however, have begun to develop processes of corporate ~dis-cernment in order to ensure'that their activities in a reconfigured delivery system will continue to be an authentic ministry in sup-port of the mission of the church. Such decision-making processes are being developed for sev-eral reasons. "Directives" (pp. 6-7) has identified some key values for the Catholic healthcare ministry, "normative principles that inform the church's health ministry": human dignity, care of the poor, the common good, stewardship of resources, and the right to refuse services inconsistent with church teaching. The first four of these principles are clearly values that leaders of Catholic healthcare can share with potential collaborators. Although these values are central to the Catholic ethical tradition, they are also readily embraced by others. Catholic healthcare personnel strive to cooperate with other providers who share these basic values. An IDN/ODS becomes an instance of the very concrete manner in which such principles become embodied in a corporate structure composed of Catholic, and non-Catholics dedicated to providing healthcare services for a community. Indeed, agreement on these values does not necessarily resolve the issue of a Catholic orga- May-~une 1996 ; Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives nization's partnership with an organization that provides elective tubal ligations or even.abortions. But it does widen out the array of issues that are deemed relevant in determining whether~a par-ticular partnership or alliance will be acceptable to a local bishop. These fundamental values of the Catholic healthcare min-istry need to be woven into an array of complex business deci-sions. The very location of places of service will say much about an organization's commitment to care of the poor. The managed-care programs of Catholic organizations and their human-resource practices will portray their interpretation of human dignity. The various allocations of capitated dollars within a system are signs of the system's stewardship of resources. Finally, how an IDN/ODS plans for care of the poor in a nation that has growing numbers of people without health insurance and that faces pending reduc-tions in Medicare and Medicaid spending will be a witness to an important value. All of these decisions need to be made within corporate structures that will take the values central to all Catholic healthcare ministry and make them operative in a given institu-tional structure. Careful processes of discernment assist board members and the leadership of Catholic healthcare organizations to identify the explicit rationale for individual decisions. Such processes pose questions: Why are we doing this? ls this decision in support of the ministry of Catholic healthcare? Will this deci-sion not only facilitate the success of this organization as a busi-ness operation, but also enhance its ministry? In their discussion and discernment about the purpose and practice of their ministry, Catholic healthcare organizations go well beyond the principles governing cooperation. Catholic healthcare has never defined itself in negative'terms. It was not created, nor has it continued into the present, in order not to do certain things. The foundresses of Catholic healthcare and their successors endeavored to operate virtuous institutions that would serve their communities. Current and ongoing reflection by a new generation of successors sets the same positive goals and strives to choose wisely the means to accomplish them. These ~eflective processes are educational; they require that individual board members,and managers, become familiar with the values that.shape the behavior and expectations of the orga-nization. Since values like human dignity and care of the poor are part of the discourse part of what the organization talks about and how it makes its decisions new members need to Review for Religious become sensitized to these values in order to function profes-sionally within it. A culturally diverse professiona! staff can be attracted to ~'participate in the activities of a virtuoias institution that strives to embody values in its services. Their involvement in such an institution need not jeopardize their own religious con-victions. The reflective processes of corporate discernment can con-tribute to the refounding of the healthcare ministry. At this point both bi~shops and leaders of Catholic healthcare are more certain about what the healthcare ministry was than what it is or will be. Latent in all who are concerned for the future of the healthcare ministry is a longing, perhaps even an expectataon, that some wily theologian will identify the essence of Catholic healthcare so that, knowing what that essence or nature is, they can produce it and make it available. But this is not likely to be the case. Catholic healtheare in the past was built upon the religious values and commitments of women who forged a ministry in isolated railroad towns in the West and in the urban poverty of 19th-century American cities. People who practice reflective disc~i'nment together will not discover the new essence of the healthcare min- )stry, but they will invite the leaders of this ministry into a period of dialectics in which the clash of facts and values, of business realities and religious visions, wil.l give rise to a new foundation of the Catholic healthcare ministry. Reflective discernment pro-cesses are heuristic: they strive to pose questions whose answers will render the world in which we live coherent and enlivening. But Catholic healthcare is not yet in such a world. In all like-lihood, it will be some time before the healthcare ministry is securely situated on a new foundation. When that time arrives, Catholic healthcare will be distinct from what it was for most of the 20th century. Yet, in a form that is not altogether clear at this time, it will be a ministry of service and witness, of diaconia and kerygma. At present, however, American Catholic healthcare remains a pilgrim ministry that tries to read the signs of the times and find its way into the future. Notes 1 "Ethical and Religious Directives for~Catholic Health Care Services" was approved by the National Council of Catholic Bishops at their November 1994 meeting. First published in Origins 24~ no. 27 (15 December 1994): 449-462, it was afterwards published as a booklet (Washington: United States Catholic Conference, February 1995). May-yTune 1996 Ga/lagber * Ecdesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives 2 Avery Dulles SJ, Models of the Church (New York: Doubleday, 1974). ~ Adam J. Maida, Church Property, Church Finances, and Church Related Corporations (St. Louis: Catholic Health Association, 1984), pp. 53-58. 4 Yves Congar Op, Lay People in the Church, trans. Donald Attwater (London: Bloomsbury Publishing Co., 1957), p, xxiv. s Philip Murnion, "The Next Steps for the Laity," Origins 25, no, 2 (1995): 30. 6 Ladislas Orsy SJ, "Structures for the Vision: An Interview with Ladislas Orsy sJ," America, 7 October 1995, p. 12. 7 See Bernard Lonergan SJ, Method in Theology (New York~ Herder and Herder, 1974), pp. 285-293. s Dulles, Models, p. 92. 9 Dulles, Models, p. 76. ~0 See K. Danner Clouser and Bernard Gert, "A Critique of Principlism," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 15 (1990): 219-236; John Arras, "Getting Down to Cases: The Revival of Casuistry in Bioethics," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 16 (1991): 29-52. See also Jonathan D. Moreno, Deciding Togetber: Bioetbics and Moral Consensus (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995). ~ Kevin Wildes sJ, "A Memo for the Central Office: The 'Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services,'" Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal 5 (1995): 138. ,2 Orville N. Griese, Catholic Ide~nti?y in Health Care: Principles and Practice (Braintree: Pope John Centei', 1987), p. 401. ~3 James Keenan and Thomas Kopfensteiner, "The Principle of Cooperation," Health Progress, April 1995, p. 24. Annunciation Having left no hint Of handkerchief or halo, Gabriel was gone. There was no other word between them needed, For she and God would grow together so, No angel would intrude. Sally Witt csJ Review for Religious GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Abandonment That Enlivens and Sets on Fire for Mission In 'recent times mission, community, authority, and obe-dience have not always blended well in religious congre-gations. But, when a congregation carefully integrates these four elements, it possesses a healthy center of religious experience that makes possible a clarity of identity, a cohe-siveness of membership, and, most importantly, a fire for mission. This is the thesis of this article. The challenge .fa.c.ing us religious today is not simply a matter of deploy-ing members efficiendy or satisfying their ministerial pref-erences. Rather, the challenge includes a self-abandonment that renews the members' total reliance on a loving God while enlivening them and setting them on fire for mis-sion, their hearts fused together in one consecration. The issue fundamentally is religious and spiritual. Mission always has the overarching importance when-ever it is related to community, authority, .and obedience. Mission, as the very heart and meaning of any congrega-tion, ties the members into the great desires of God as revealed in Jesus. Surely more than being just a job, mis-sion draws its effectiveness from a spiritual theology, active and unitive within the hearts of all the members. At the same time, though mission has a priority over the other three elements, it can never replace any of them without George Aschenbrenner SJ is presently director of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth at Church Road; Box 223; Wernersville, Ptnnsylvania 19565. symposium part 2 May-j~une 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens seriously weakening the congregation's overall effectiveness and corrupting the significance of the element apparently replaced. Obedience when separated from the other three becomes an unhealthy ascetical practice, something shortsightedly in and for itself. Mission when separated from community produces a scat-ter- shot diffused effect, and community without much relation to mission narcissistically turns in upon itself. No, there is no avoiding the interrelationship of these four elements. The very identity and stability of a congregation depend upon it. A clear central integration~of these four elemeflts is as neces-sary for active as for mona~stic congregations, despite the signif-icant differences between them. In religious life today this fourfold central unity may express itself differently in the two, but it r~emains important for both.~ Though not easily accomplished, this central unity .can take on a critical importance in active con-gregations. Because it is the nature of an active community that its members be sent out and dispersed in a variety of ministries, the accomplishment of unity and a sense of felt membership can be difficult. But when the centrifugal force of ministry is not bal-anced with the appropriate centripetal force of community, the pain of disunity and loneliness can destroy the congregation. In many cases the issue addressed here touches on nothing less than the very survival of the group. After renewing a basic .supposition about religious life, I will develop a spirituality of abandonment as central to ,apostolic mis-sion. This spirituality has four different personal objects and cen. trally affects the exercise of religious government for mission. Finally, four results emerge when an appropri.ate,integration of our foursome is ~achieved. Religious Life: Essentially Corporate Existence Orders and congregations each have their own version of the evangelical imperatives of chastity, poverty, and obedience, but all of them have a corporate faith, focused in a shared vision and mission, that distinguishes religious life from other life-forms in the church. In the midst of a great variety of changes within reli-gious life, an essential corporate existence continues to play a central identifying role. And t.hough the und~erstanding of reli-gious community has shifted a lot since Vatican Council II, only some clear shared corporate vision--believed and practiced by Review for Religious all--can prevent religious life from changing into a wholly dif-ferent form. This fundamental communitarian existence stands as one identifying continuity stretching back even to Pachomius in the 4th century. At a time of shifting meanings for religious community, care must be taken not to lose the reality. Especially in the active apos-tolic model, one of the revealing signs of a religious vocation con-tinues to be a genuine desire for a shared faith and life. This must include some form of the following actions done together: shar-ing faith, praying, living, and ministering. These shared actions are not arbitrarily left to the individual's choice or whim. They con-stitute membership. So one is excused only for directly ministe-rial reasons. These commitment mechanisms ritualize in some genuine fashion the corporate vision and faith. Without such reg-ularly siiared experiences, the sense of religious community becomes ethereal and chimerical. Therefore, in some carefully understood sense, religious life is life in community, and not just on one's own. For an active religious, not to have a genuine desire to be,together in praying, living, and ministering becomes a seri-ous countersign to membership and cannot simply be tolerated. This corporate shared life has within it a dynamic impulse to public, visible expression. The life-form of a secular institute runs on~a different dynamic: to be hidden and unrecognized within the secular society. And so, ordinarily the religious life-form will stand out more than that of a secular institute. This element of public visibility gives external expression to the essential corpo-rate nature of religious life. Of cot~rse, the evangelical impera-tives, especially celibate chastity, add their own focus~to this central corporate identity. My point here is simple and clear: reli-gious life is not something done on my own and alone. It is always a shared corporate vision and existence. Mission: A Profound Spirituality and Theology Mission is a great growing concern within religious life today, and well it should be. But this great concern can be misunder-stood. In these days of second, third, and even fourth careers, more and more religious find themselves wondering "What would I like to do now?" or "What should I try after ten years of teach-ing?" Though these and similar wonders can naturally entertain our minds, they can fixate us on too superficial a level. As men- May-June 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens tioned above, mission is not finally a matter of personal preference and efficient deployment of members. Mission in religious life always catches fire in a profound the-ology and spirituality. Religious consecration gathers together and roots members in the mystery of Jesus' obedience to the great universal mission of God's love. A passionate desire for every-body to know how loved and cared for they are in the mystery of God is always burning in Jesus' heart. He is always on this mis-sion. It is his very identity. Jesus' consciousness is dominated by a sense of being sent. He never stands on his own. He never comes to do his own thing. Whatever he speaks and does and is, he receives from another. The Gospel of John makes this very clear in many passages. "I do nothing on my own authority but speak simply as my Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me now: the Father has never left me alone, for I always do what pleases him" (Jn 8:28-29). There is a clear limit to any process of self-actualization in Jesus. This clear limit does not speak of immature dependency, but rather points to a theology and spirituality of love always aflame in his heart. The receptivity involved in Jesus' experience of mission reveals the central love affair that burns at the core of his identity. Rather than passive submission to the marching orders of some distant authority, mission for Jesus always radiates a life of love with the One he calls "my dear Father." At the heart of this love affair, a mysterious abandonment burns in an identity of perpetual ado-ration. It is an adoration that sets him afire every day for his mis-sion and finally for the fearful but well-loved completion of that mission: the great Passover of his life. He does not tell his dear Fathe~ what to do. Rather, their self-abandonment in mutual love forges such a union that Jesus, aglow in the Holy Spirit, is God's mission always burning among us. Jesus: Abandonment to His "Dear Father" In this abandonment Jesus' heart is always burning true. Sometimes he shows his love by carrying out ordinary routines, while at other times he performs deeds of high drama. All disci-ples of the great mission of God must do both kinds of things in their own lives, according to the specifics of their own personal religious experience. Review for Religious In the temple at the age of twelve, Jesus speaks a word of truth: "Didn't you know I must always be where my dear Father is?''2 This truth radiates identity for the young boy, as well as for his distraught mother and foster father. While not easily under-stood, such a word invites contemplative treasuring in their hearts. It not only cannot be contradicted, but it allur-ingly presages a mysterious future. Years later this word has become so clear in his heart as to call him away from his beloved home and mother. An urgency beckons him, an urgency to go to his cousin, the Baptizer, at the Jordan. There the fire flames forth in an enor-mously special way. A religious experience, always alive in his heart, flashes forth in a dramatic moment. A love beyond words and imagining; a Son so specially beloved and pleasing; a servant uniquely chosen for mission--in such a moment the abandonment of his life to his dear Father is so very obvious and very right. He knows that this fire in his heart has not been set by himself, but by a dear Father's loving Spirit. The original temple-word, now a clearly recognized relationship with a dear Father beloved beyond limit, becomes a guiding light all through his busy life in the midst of the people. Always he is one called and sent into the mission of every day. This special inner consciousness keeps the fire of loving aban-donment zealously aglow, ~in his heart. "I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already!" (Lk 12:49). This inner fire burns finally into the completion of his bap-tism. "There is a baptism I must still receive, and how great is my distress till it is over!" (Lk 12:50). The growing paschal ful-fillment of that temple-word brings him into the great mission-ary climax of his life.-It is high drama. A mission of love plays itself out on the stage of his troubled heart, and the audience stretches into the fullness of time. In an olive grove his aware-ness that "everything is possible for you, dear Father" raises a puzzling possibility: "Take this cup away from me." But, beyond the fear and questioning of his mind, in the deepest adoring still-ness of his heart, that fire of self-abandonment faithfully burns and enlivens: "But let it be as you, not I, would have it!" This chosen servant, so much the delight of God, brings the whole mission of his life to unending fullness in the climactic Mission for Jesus always radiates a life of love with the One he calls "my dear Father." 2~lay-37~ne 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens challenge of Calvary. Though the drama and intensity of the moment is high pitch, the story is still the same: a servant aban-doning himself to the Beloved. The mission of love is now some-how complete. "It is accomplished" (Jn 19:30). "Dear Father, into your hands I give over my spirit" (Lk 23:46). Jesus, God's mission. in our midst, stripped to the simple clear essence of his identity, becomes a fire of forgiving love blazing into the fullness of time. Disciples: Sent for Missidn This enlivening fire for mission in Jesus is meant to deter-mine the missionary lives of all his disciples. A great desire for mission and evangelization sends disciples all over the world. This evangelization must always be fueled by an urgency of desire that more and more people taste the joy, freedom, and union of God's deeply personal love in Jesus, a reconciling love in which we all live and move and have our being. Disciples always bring an aston-ishing wealth of gifts, training, and experience to this mission of evangelization. This is marvelous. The cooperation and blend-ing of all these talents in any particular operation, however, is not always easy. At the heart of this sense of mission must always be the same profound identifying attitude of Jesus. An eager, ready abandon-ment in love stokes the heart's coals for the fire of mission. Such missionary eagerness comes from a burning desire to be sent, This fire for mission involves a profound attitude in faith that becomes visible in the results of an appropriate ministerial place-ment process. Daily discipleship in the great mission of Jesus always requires the stance of radical abandonment that identifies Jesus in his love affair with his dear Father. Various dangers today threaten the faith attitude and reli-gious experience needed if we are to share Jesus' burning sense of mission. In recent years many congregations have borrowed ter-minology from corporate management and social psychology to name roles played in the community's organization and struc-ture. 3 While there surely is some value in this, we must be care-ful~ of the significance of our language. Language often has an effect on us that is not immediately evident, It can .talk us into or out of certain attitudes, almost without our noticing. If we slip out of the profound faith perspective described in this article, a prophetic vision easily becomes ideological, and fire for mission Review for Religious becomes political competition. We must be careful that our words do not distract us from the realm of profound faith where the dynamics of life and love are often quite different from those of our secular society. An age still strongly individualistic, therapeutic, and security conscious keeps the focus on self and taking care of self. In ways insidiously subliminal or at least not obvious, this spirit can lead to an assertiveness that resists the abandonment that sets a person afire for mission. Especially when this therapeutic spirit seems very convincing, the dynamic of "sending oneself" can quench the red-hot coals of missionary abandonment. Such self-sending is easily justified in the heady winds of assertiveness and individ-ualism. Such self-sending often makes a person blind to any par-ticipation in the corporate vision; it blocks genuine community mediation and can even manipulate it. Such an attitude and prac-tice ~threatens our sharing in Jesus' sense of mission. The issue finally is always the same: The self-abandonment that enlivens and sets the heart on fire is itself being abandoned. An Abandonment to Whom? The abandonment described here must be an interpersonal experience of love. Though we may pledge allegiance to a flag, we can abandon ourselves only to some person who loves us. Then, when the beauty of the beloved is magnetic enough, the aban-donment becomes practically unavoidable. 'No mere cause, how-ever noble and (xciting, can affect us in this way, can move us as profound interpersonal love, engagement, and abandonment of self can. The abafidonment beyond self that participates in God's mis~- sion in Jesus always includes four loves or four ways of loving. First and foremost, we abandon ourselves into the loving hands of God. This falling 6ut of control can never be forced or strongly willed on our own. We can only be lured and seduced to it by the astonishing beauty of God's love in the fidelity of Jesus. For someone who does not feel the magnetism of that love, the aban-donment so central to this article not only will be almost unin-telligible, but will also be altogether impossible. The person may even repel any such suggestion. The continuing struggle in active apostolic congregations to integrate mission and consecration is relevant here. A certain consecration to, with, and in God is nec- May-June 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens Our hearts' desires and attentions must not focus on ourselves, but on needy people of the world. essary if mission endeavors--even fervently "prophetic" ones-- are to become more than just efficient social work. In other words, the proper integration of consecration and mission can take place only in the actual experience of abandoning ourselves to God's love so radiantly.inviting in Jesus. Second, fire for mission also involves an abandonment in com-passionate sensitivity to all sorts of needy people in our world. No impersonal cause, however rabidly espoused, will suffice. A specification and personalization of the great needs throughout our universe invites the missionary abandonment described in this article. For this aspect of the abandonment to have strong effect today, certain countercultural developments are needed. Our hearts' desires and attentions must not focus on ourselves, but on needy people of the world. This calls for gener-ous abandonment. The charism of each congre-gation must help its members to see needs in the world and then to set priorities. The charism must be alive in their hearts so that they actually address some specific needs of today, rather than simply embrace a vague universalism. A charism that is trying to do everything runs the danger finally of accomplishing nothing. Third, abandoning myself to the community of brothers or sisters who share the same religious consecration implies a belief that our corporate good is much more important than my own individual good. Community here must be, not some idealized reality, but the real people of the here and now. This aspect of abandonment for mission does not make light of my own good, but presumes the pervasive corporate identity whereby my own sense of self cannot be conceived apart from our shared life and mission together. The central energizin, g concern is we, not me. Once again, as mentioned earlier, corporate ministerial impact is what mission is about, not a scatter-shot effect of talented pro-fessional individuals. This corporate identity is not easily attained in an age of therapeutic individualism. It continues to be a major issue in religious formation today, and it must be resolved suffi-ciendy at the time of profession if candidates and communities are to have a future together. Fourth, the abandonment we are discussing will always some-how involve human mediators who specify, clarify, and incarnate Review for Religions God's loving authority in Jesus for mission. Whether these medi-ators are friends, a spiritual director, a leadership team, a provin-cial, the bishop, or the people with whom I live, mission can never be simply a matter of myself and God. The dialogue and dis-cernment stretch beyond individual limitations. Each member's discernment always assumes great importance, but is never the ultimate determining factor in the decision. In many situations human mediation is precisely the point of struggle and disagree-ment among us. Some of this struggle is an understandable reac-tion to excessively authoritarian practices of mediation in the past, but not all of it is so easily explained. Some of this reaction needs to be explored and challenged. Without settling for vague gen-eralities at this point, I want to describe some specific develop-ments in the riext section without, however, resorting to overly definitive, rigid uniformities. This brings us to the role of religious government in fostering a congregation's fire for mission. Role of Religious Government for Mission Models of religious government have gone through an enor-mous transformation since Vatican II. The diversity of develop-ment between men's and women's congregations has been striking. As we become sensitive to the enriching differences of the femi-nine and the masculine, this diversity of development is expected and is perhaps long overdue after many years in which women religious were forced into structures and models originally cre-ated for men. But some further questions surface at this point. Should the governmental models in congregations of women and men be so different? Along with some diversity that all seem happy to allow for, should there not be more similarity in the role of authority and the practice of obedience within men's and women's congregations? How do we recognize and maintain, both for women and men, a continuity of development with the past.in this area of religious authority and obedience? (Such continuity, though not easily recognized at certain junctures in the development, is always a sign of the guidance of the Holy.Spirit.) These questions are not easily answered, and I hope that together we will deal hon-esdy with them for some time. It is too easy a resolution simply to say: that is the masculine way and this is the feminine way. It is my hope that the diversity in thi.s area between the practice of men and women will be mutually challenging and enriching. May-June 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens To give authority to someone utterly without the charism of leadership will usuall not promote the corporate ministerial impact of a con regation, o A movement awayofrom hierarchical models has character-ized ma.ny congregational leadership arrangements since Vatican II. This movement was not so clearly called for in the cohncil's Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life; espe-cially in its treatment of obedience.4 Throughout all the docu-ments of the council, we can clearly find glimpses of a new "vision for the people of God that would legitimate in the Spirit-some of this movement away from a thoroughly hierarchical model. But, withgut' doubt, other waves of influence gathering force over the last thirty years have been churned up and driven along by secular winds. Strong'democratic and egalitarian presumptions have been hard at work deconstru4dng most models of ¯ authority and government. And, once tidal-wave proportions have been reached, it is hard to be concerned about nuance and degree of development and chan~e. The Ignatian model is an interesting.~xample. The original Ignatian concePtion of authority and obedience for mission was strongly hierarchical and centralized. It was this strong centralized model, of authority that made both internal cohesiveness and widespread external ministry possible. Some would view this Ignatian model as the beginning of active religious life in the ~'modern world,s Congregations of women and men claiming Ignatian 'influence and roots in their founding interpret this in quite different ways today, howe~,er much they have or have not thought through and discussed the matter. A triangular model of authority as flowing down from the pinnacle has given way to a model of much more mutual and shared responsibility. We are rediscovering the authority in each mature believing person. When well informed by the Holy Spirit and well in touch with God's people as a whole, each person is able to "author forth" as part-of God's mission of love among us. But is this individualized, egalitarian authority enough for the mis-sion of religious life in the future? If we simply let the recent decentralizing development have its way, will the. proper under-standing and practice of authority for mission just naturally emerge? I think not, Such a development implies too ethereal a Review Jbr Religious view of the Holy Spirit, as though not inviting the cooperative ohard work of human minds and hearts. Authority's triangle can-not simply be exchanged, in my opinion, for a circle composed of brothers and sisters of completely equal authority. A Model of Concentric Circles To properly integrate mission, community, authority, and obe, dience, I suggest another model for religious institutes: concen-tric circles. In the centermost circle is God revealed in Jesus with a very special authority. In the next circle are the founders and foundresses with their charismatic vision and that vision's con-tinuous development. In the next few circles would be individu-als or teams on the general or local levels who possess an authority for unity and mission beyond that of all the other members. This special authority is received both from God and from all the mem-bers through the group's ecclesially approved process of choice. This distinctive authority does not finally s~t these people off from the rest of the members. As a matter of fact, it will have effect only as contextualized within, the community of all the brothers and sisters. The people exercising such special authority are sisters and brothers to. us all. This is precisely why these cen-tral circles are placed concentrically within the largest circle, which contains all the members gathered as brothers or sisters in the one congregation. In the concentric model it is important to distinguish, but not separate, authority, leadership, and obedience.6 Authority is a canonical, juridical office of power rooted in God, not in the chancery or some Vatican office. This is a power about other per-sons for.ministry. Leadership, on the other hand, is a charism of influence and inspiration over other people. This latter cannot be legalized and institutionalized. Not everyone has this charism. Though the juridical office of authority and the personal charism of leadership can and should be distinguished, we must always work hard to keep the two in a proper balance of relationship. To give authority to someone utterly without the charism of lead-ership will usually not promote the corporate ministerial impact of a congregation. To confuse this distinction and the operative government-model in a congregation will always have its cor-rupting effect on the unity of the membership and on its shared fire for mission. That lines of authority be clear regarding who May-~nne 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens exercises it and for what object is not a finicky concern for tidi-ness, but rather a strong desire for spreading fire effectively in the mission of God's love. If authority and leadership must stay in relationship, the same is true of authority and obedience. They form an essential mutual relationship. One cannot stand without the other. While author-ity invites the mature obedience of careful listening, so too must it be sensitive in careful listening to the membership's calling forth healthy mature exercise of authority. Each calls forth the other in a vitality and interrelationship always focused on greater unity.and fire for mission. The decentralizing trend in religious congregations since Vatican II has affected this interrelationship of authority, leader-ship, and obedience. It has thereby also affected the structure, appearance, and sense of belonging in many congregations: But, as we keep relating this decentralization to two other corporate values (membership and ministry) and not allow it simply to develop a life of its" own, a couple of important questions face us. How decentralized can a group become and still preserve a cohe-sive unity and an outreaching mission? How much unrefined plu-ralism can a group tolerate without losing its unity and identity? These questions not only nag at religious groups, but also affect secular organizations and are not susceptible to pat or easy answers. However, dealing with them is crucial because it keeps this decentralizing tendency in relationship with the foursome (mission, community, authority, and obedience) that provides (as this article argues) the central stability and identity of any religious congregation. One of the dangers today is that this decentralizing spirit may assume a solitary dominating influence. Religious authority, then, as exercised in the concentric gov-ernmental structure presented here, serves two major important purposes. In the first place, this authority fosters clarity and energy about the mission of God in Jesus for us here and now. Decisions are made, not simply according to individual preferences and seri- 6us individual discernments, but in light of a congregation's charis-matic identity as that has developed over years to a contemporary specification. Authority thus exercises a preserving role regarding the congregation's present specification of its identity in the mis-sion of God in Jesus. Rather than having a stifling effect, these mediators in the exercise of authority foster: fire for mission and are servants of the faithful continuity of the congregation's Review for Religious charism. Of course, they could never serve this special role with-out the energetic cooperation of us all. In the second place, this authority is especially related to the corporate unity of the group. Just as God's authority is never meant to be an oppressive ,burden, but serves toward the uplifting unity of the whole human family, so this religious authority is a unique service for love in the unity and mission of the congregation. Mediators of this authority, therefore, are special servants of the group's unity in love. Without careful, clear exercise of authority and obedience, a congrega-tion's experienced unity gets ragged and its fire for mission dims. Results of Healthy Integration The proper interrelationship of mission, community, author-ity, and obedience produces four healthy results. First, ministry is always seen as rooted in and flowing out of the Trinity. Neither empty theory nor impractic.al idealism, this profound spiritual theology must ground and animate all ministry in the church. Ministry is really God's work and not some project that we, are in sole charge of and that belongs completely to us. This vision of bedrock faith has very practical implications. The second result is one of these practical implications. This Trinitarian vision of ministry keeps in check the serious danger of finding our very identity in the ministry. To succumb to the dan-ger and identify ourselves in what we do is always to stunt the richness and profundity of our person. This is even more serious in terms of our identity in Christ. Whether consciously or uncon-sciously, letting our very identity--who we are in Christ~--be con-sumed by our hands-on daily work has serious repercussi6ns. Our view of self becomes superficial and overly pragmatic; we stub-bornly cling for dear life to our ministry. The religious experi-ence of taking genuine risks because of our reliance on God's promise in Jesus shrinks. Moreover, the physical decline of old age can bring deep frustration after many years of busy activity if we have allowed those years to teach us by osmosis this faulty maxim: The harder we work, the holier we become. As disciples called by Christ and, saved in Christ, our identity is given; it is revealed, not earned, not merited. "It is, remember, by grace and not by achievement that you are saved . It was nothing you could ordid achieve--it was God's gift of grace which saved you" (Ep 2:6, 8). May-June 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens Jesus' death on the cross is our hope, our salvation. He is our identity beyond all others. In this greatest act of love, we find an identity so deeply rooted in God that we can be surprised; sur-prised by a ministerial availability beyond limits we had mistak-enly imposed, surprised by a ministerial effectiveness beyond our careful planning, and surprised by an experience of aging that invites an. intimacy with Jesus beyond expectation. Once again the central point of this article stands clear: Jesus' abandonment on the cross attracts us and unites us in a similar abandonment that is the core of all ministry. As a third result, when mission, community, authority, and obedience are meshing in the proper way, an invigorated sense of membership pervades the congregation. Members do not feel competitively alienated from one another in seeking, finding, and carrying out employment. Members, rather, feel part of a reality much. bigger than themselves because their individual placement in ministry somehow really involves the entire community. Their daily ministry is part of the community's whole commitment to mission, extending far beyond individual preference into the enor-mous venture of God's mission of love in Jesus for the transfor-mation of the whole universe. As a fourth result, the proper implementation of the four-some described in this article enables a congregation to pool its resources, especially financial ones, and respond to some extremely critical contemporary needs even when the work is not recom-pensed by a living wage or any salary at all. A corporate commit-ment can overcome the limiting of ministries only to those that individual members find adequate to support themselves. In this way availability for minisu'y is stretched beyond the limits of indi-vidual preference, individual job search, and individual income. In conclusion, the church throughout the world,-and espe-cially in North America, faces the tremendous missionary chal-lenge of a civil society becoming more and more secularistic, more permeated with a practical atheism. In the face of such a challenge, fear would distract our gaze and corrupt our courage. All of the church's members must respond courageously. But we religious, from the vantage point of our celibate, simple lifestyle, should be able t6 gaze and~listen together in a specially sensitive and enlightened way, always eager fo~ a self-abandonment that will enliven, not dehumanize, us and will set us on fire for mission way beyond the individual likes and dislikes. The fire of this self- Review for Religious abandonment will constantly remind us, and everybody, that God is at the heart of it all and that God's love in Jesus is the real work being done and to be done. Notes l See George Aschenbrenner sJ, "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," Review for Religious 45, no. 5 (September-October 1986): 653-668. 2 This is a tra~nslation of Luke 2:49 suggested by the Jesuit scripture scholar Father David Stanley in a retreat given in 1967. 3 See Ma~y Linscott SND, "The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Government in the Revision of Constitutions," Review for Religious 42, no. 2 (March-April 1983): 212-213. 4 Most commentators on the document notice an ambiguity within a variety of positions due to the conflicting views represented in the body 6f the council and in the commission responsible for Perfectae caritatis. See Commentary on the Documents of Vatican 11, vol. 2 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), pp. 301-370. s See David Knowles, From Pachqmius to Ignatius (Ox,ford: C_larendon, 1966), pp. 61-68. 6 See Mary Linscott SND, "Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government," Review for Religious 52, no. 2 (March-April 1993): 166- 193. Composition of Place With consistency, theocean disarms life's taut livery. Before the vasL I let it, like a magnet, draw away heavy-metaled worry that cages me unfree. In its place I embrac~e the gossamer interlace of sun and s,ky and foam, fit garment for a psalm by the side of the sea with ;the waves' response in holy antiphony. Anna Marie Mack SSJ May-if:tote 1996 JUDITH A. MERKLE Gathering the Fragments: New Times for Obedience an Matthew's Gospel we visit a scene with which we are all miliar, the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. Jesus, upset over the death of John the Baptist, withdraws to a quiet place. The disciples and the crowds follow him. The sick come and he heals them, even though he is filled with a sense of loss. It becomes evident the people are without sufficient food. Through strengthening the faith of the disciples, Jesus not only heals the sick but even feeds those who journeyed with him to this out-of-the- way place. At the end of the meal, the apostles gather the fragments from the feast and then continue to journey with Jesus. We too have journeyed with Jesus to what some would call an out-of-the-way place. Over the last thirty years, we as religious have set out in search of Jesus. As Perfectae caritatis states, "the religious life is intended above all else to lead those who embrace it to an imitation of Christ and to union with God" (§2). We have found Christ in prayer, in the poor, in our classrooms and emer-gency wards, on planes to Africa, and in AIDS clinics in our urban areas. We have sought union with God in the reforms of Vatican II, in the retreat movement, marching with farm workers, or pro-viding support to the elderly. We find ourselves in a new place, still seeking to listen to his word. We too have our sick with us, and we have our concerns for them. We too wonder if we have brought enough food for the Judith A. Merkle SNDdeN is in the Religious Studies Department at Niagara University. She is the author of Committed by Choice (1992) and a forthcoming book on religious life, cultural crisis, and the vows. Her address is: P.O. Box 1869; Niagara University, New York 14109. Review for Religious journey. We seek food from Jesus for these next steps of renewal, while at the same time knowing that a world on the cusp of a mil-lennium seeks new food from us. We too, like the people on the hillside, are at the end of a divine banquet. Historically we have witnessed in 19th-centnry religious life a multiplication of the loaves and fishes. In its insti-tutions, its way of organizing religious living, its powerful con-tribution to the church, and its marvelous growth, we have seen something unparalleled in church history since the 13th century. , Today we are left with only the fragments of 19th-century religious life; the fragments of the institutions they founded, the fragments of the way of life they constructed to express religious life, the fragments of their spirituality and beliefs. We can no longer go back and re-create the world they once built, and nei-ther the quality and extent of the next divine banquet nor our part in it is clear to us. There is, however, a choice before us today. We can sit on the hillside and tell stories of a wondrous event, of a former way of living religious life, remembering with nostalgia that brief moment of grandeur when God so touched our lives. We can allow our companionship to cover up our hopelessness about the times ever again being right for such a visitation. Or we can hold the fragments in our hands and ask what revelation they may hold for 'us. Why did God leave us with these fragments? Why must the disciples gather them up? As people living on fragments, we must ask, too, what the people did the day after the banquet. How did they continue their journey of faith? We know they did continue it because today we can gather in Jesus' name and we remain a people who live in this mystery. Let us, then, hold these fragments in our hands and pon-der the pain and promise in them. We will be examining expressly the vow of obedience and how, in the context of our times, it takes on new meaning. We will first discuss how religious share in the cultural crisis in our society at large, and in this way we will speak to the pain these fragments hold. Second, we will focus on obedience as affective bonding and on the life process which this involves. Here we will take heed of the promise which religious living holds in our cul-ture as we face issues of morfil decline, fragmentation, and drift. I would like to explore with you the challenge this call presents personally, congregationally, and eccle~ially. May-3~ne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments What is obedience in a social context where the rules have changed from a premodern to a modern to a postmodern mindset in a thirty-year period ? The New Situation We sha~e with others in the Western world in a new situation. of our lives. A recent book makes it clear that the United States society currently lives from moral fragments and community frag-ments only. Ours is a time of moral breakdowns, moral hope-lessness, and drift. We have looked to both economic progress and government to provide a quality life for all, but we realize more and more in the 1990s that there is nothing more important to our lives together than the regeneration that moral community can provide,l ~ Hearing this analysis as religious, we know that the moral drift in the wider cul-ture has touched us also. Thirty years ago Perfectae caritatis launched us on a path of renewal with these words: "The more ardently religious unite themselves to Christ through a self-surrender involving their entire lives~ the more vigorous becomes, the life of the church and the more abundantly .her apostolate bears fruit" (§1). But what is the shape of this self-surrender in a culture living on frag- .ments, where cultural wisdom says to find some corner of the world where your needs are met and stay there, avoiding life's larger questions and the needs of one's neigh-bor? 2 What is obedience in a social context where the rules have changed from a premodern to a modern to a postmodern mind-set in a thirty-year period? Before Vatican II, it could be argued, religious life shared many of the characteristics of premodern life. Community was based largely on a shared geography, kinship, ethnicity, and the particular territorial identity created by the institutions of 19th-century' religious life. The cloister provided a world apart, within a modern world. Vatican II brought the modern world into the cloister, and with it the emancipation, .freethinking, open future, and promise of progress that are chariacteristic of modernity.3 Religious entered into a world organized by mobility of money and work. The old institutions and the clear but at times static thinking they repre-sented gave way to the new. We welcomed this change. New Review for Religious beliefs gave moral and social coherence to our lives. Personal freedom, using one's gifts in ministry, freedom of conscience, per-sonal' development, renewed social commitment, and political reform came to the forefront Community and Identity In this rapidly changing situation, however, the type of local community which taught the virtues, values, obligations, and iden-tity of our congregations was harder to maintain. We sought to enlarge our concept of community with a greater sense of our province community and with various new forms of government at the congregational level. We argued over government, but found ourselves really arguing over community and how we belonged as we experienced growing pluralism among us. We knew that a common checkbook was not enough of a unifier in our growing diversity. But at times we imitated a culture which turned to the market and government as unifiers in the absence of weak-ening moral community.4 But we felt the incompleteness of it all. Community became largely intentional on a small scale, yet broadened to the world at the level of association and conscious-ness. In the mobility of life, community became too transitory for many and at times only an enclave of privacy,s The change brought good and bad, yet this transition has not been complete. As we discern the new times for our vow of obedience, we grabble today for a sense of identity, not just before others but among ourselves. We struggle with the identification of the lim-its of our way of life and with' questions about the appropriate moral ways of dealing with them. For moral discourse always implies boundaries and limits the stuff of community. In this we share in the moral drift of the wider culture where also there has been a weakening of centers of moral formation: family, church, community. Postmodern Challenge We have difficulty, too, with public conversations about our identity as religious because we find, unlike thirty years ago, that words such as church, sacrament, authority, and celibacy do not always have a common core of meaning among us. Years ago we argued about progressive and conservative viewpoints, but we shared a core of meaning. Today our cofiversations reveal vast differences of meaning among us. May-dTune 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments This flows from our being in a culture that lacks a broad interpretative metaphor to explain the order and meaning of the world. Beyond this lack, the uncertainty of any knowledge is widely held. The meaning of any idea is constandy in flux, and no one meaning or interpretation has any authority over another. Since people believe that one cannot know the truth, they think of "truth" as merely the momentary victor among ideas vying with one another for popular acceptance. Criticism of any and all ideas goes on and on. This is a brief description of what authors term postmodernism.6 It is also a description of where some reli-gious locate themselves. We also find a weakening in our skills for envisioning and pursuing the common good together. In a more static society, one cannot opt out of the common good, for one's own enter-tainable options are out of the question if they infringe those of another, and vice versa. In a mobile society, where community is an experience rather than a place, this face-to-face existence is weakened and along with it the ability of a group to reinforce behavior that moves beyond self-interest. We experience this in our difficulty in addressing the responsibilities and benefits of membership. ,4 Situation of Moral Hazard Charles Wilber, the economist, claims that our modern way of living separates us from one another and creates "imperfect knowledge" of one another. This in turn breaks down trust and can place us in a situation of "moral hazard." While Wilber's anal-ysis focuses on industry, I suggest that it provides a window on our experience as religious.7 A moral hazard occurs in situations where people are affected by one another's behavior. A situation is termed a moral hazard when a low trust level causes people to engage in self-defeating behaviors. An example is the distrust that can occur between an employer and employee. The employer fears that the employee is not doing her job. The employee fears that the employer will require too much work or will fire her if given the chance. In response the employee begins to withdraw and shirk her job. To remedy the situation, the employer supervises more to stop the expected laziness. If the employee could self-supervise, work would be more efficient and the company would profit. Instead, what results is a Review Jbr Religions situation where each, the employer and the employee, pursues his or her self-interest. Other individuals working in the situa-tion can observe troublesomeness growing, but no one individual can do anything about it. It becomes a climate, and a self-defeat-ing one. The result is that all individuals are worse off and the group is worse off than if they had been able to work together. Why is it so difficult in such a situation to cooperate?s Because exit is cheap and voice is expensive. Exit means to withdraw, to drop out of the conversation that would be needed to come up with a solution which serves each individual's interest and the group's interest as well. The ability to exit is facilitated by "room to move," the very meaning of a "mobile" society. Voice, on the other hand, involves the communication of one's concern to another and the willingness to work out a solution. The cost to individuals to do this often exceeds the benefits they might hope to receive. Hence, one of the two persons at odds exits. The situation of moral hazard has parallels in religious life 'today. The fragments of an earlier religious lifestyle that we live with include problematic questions about membership and the possibility of group action. We need group decision more than ever before because our problems cannot be solved by individu-als, yet our lifestyle is such that to take up the challenge of voice instead of exit is getting more and more "expensive" emotionally, spiritually, and personally. Obedience in These Times These are new times for obedience. Today the practice of obedience has to be linked to a common consciousness of one's interdependence with others, self-restraint based on a gospel life, and institutional reinforcement of those values that constrain self-interested behavior and build common meaning out of a plural-ity of experiences. Those in leadership know that government can regulate only what people allow to be regulated. Money and government are inadequate unifiers unless there is a moral com-munity based on these beliefs. Researchers today point to "affiliative decline" among reli-gious. They charge that religious lack a sense of purpose based on a belief in the meaning and viability of their way of life. This breeds a sense of disaffection or alienation. The researchers believe that congregations will decline if members have no stronger reason to remain than mere bonding.9 May-June 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments For these reasons the reclaiming of obedience today has to address issues of meaning and common commitment in a situation of pluralism. It has to further outline the path by which religious and their congregations bond the real people who are their mem-bers in the diverse situations in which they live, by shared com-mitment to and reinforcement of the values which give meaning to their lives and direction to their congregational ministry. Our language of obedience has to touch,the process by which we learn to participate--because we want to, as an affair of the heart~-in the life and mission of our congregation. We obey in the '90s:like religious before us, in imitation of Jesus, who obeyed his heavenly Father because he wanted to, out of love. He defined his whole life by this pursuit. Postmode~m means that the systems of the modern age are no longer workable. Progress, freedom of choice, and open bound-aries have not necessarily brought quality of life. We realize today that some of the systems we created in renewal are defective. We, like others in our culture, are searching for meaning, spirit, and moral direction and for new structures, policies, and organiza-tion to unify our communities. Questioning these new times of ours for obedience, there-fore, has consequences for congregational and ecclesial regener-ation as well. There is no obedience without mutuality. As we turn to obedience as affective bonding, the perspectives we gain will have ramifications for congregational response and ecclesial life. I will suggest a few of these ramifications. Obedience as Affective Bonding Obedience of the mind, or cognitive growth in one's knowl-edge of the church and the Christian mysteries, is easier to define than the path of affective bonding which the vow of obedience pri-marily involves.I° Cognitive growth can be measured by assimila-tion of important information. Formation programs, courses of study, and catechetical syllabi can put information about the church and Christian life and one's congregational spirit into a sequence of increasing complexity and hierarchy of importance. Such order-ing allows for proper intellectual formation of a religious. Affective bonding takes longer, is harder to measure, and is difficult to chart. The goal of affective learning is for persons to act as they do because it is in itself satisfying to them. Educational Review for Religious literature offers mbdels to help people reflect on the components of affective learning and bonding.To the degree that growth in obedience is a path of affective learning and bonding with God, with one's community, and with the mission of the church, :reflec-tion on such components or Stages of affective bonding can reveal important aspects of obedience today. The stages we discuss will be termed receiving, responding, valu-ing, prioritizing, and communal charac-ter/ characterization.11 Looking at them one at a time will make their meaning .and relevance clear. Receiving Obedience begins with receiving, becoming conscious of, a vocation and having a willingness to attend to people and events associated with it. All voca-tions begin with a connection: to a men-tor, to a person in a certain apostolate, to a chance advertisement, to a casual remark. Obedience begins here, long before a vow is taken. If there is any decision, it is to remain open to the sub-ject of a religious vocation. At this point there is usually no decision about the merit of the call itself. A per-son is invited to move in this stage from a consciousness of a vocation, to a willingness to receive, to a decision to give mat-ters concerning a vocation some careful attention despite com-peting choices or distractions. While receiving is a stage in obedience, it is also a recurring theme. All through religious life, there are new occasions to revisit this grace of obedience. A new member of cdmmunity is waiting to be received or a new program is being launched. New leader-ship, maybe not of one's own choosing, needs to be accepted. An intervention regarding health, retirement, or change in ministry needs to be examined. Can we even consider it? Can we receive this into our lives? Inability or refusal to "receive" one's congregational reality into one's life causes disaffection. Disaffection here is understood as an alienation from something which is important to our whole-ness or completion)2 When we make a vow of obedience, we say Our language of obedience has to touch the process by which we learn to participatem because we want to, as an affair of the heartm in the !ife and mission of our congregation. May-~une 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments we want our relationship with Jesus to happen within the con-text of this community in the church. Disaffection occurs because we are not in harmony with something which we have chosen as a life-giving relationship. Like the rich young man, we feel the sadness this creates. Congregational mail is not read, a change of ministry is never considered. Persons in authority are rejected before they act. We are living within a congregation, but not receivi ~ng it in our lives. Since obedience has ramifications for the bonding of the com-munity and its effectiveness in mission, disaffection at the. level of receiving can be contagious and can create a negative climate in a local community or a province. Congregational. Disaffection can also be caused by the inabil-ity of the congregation to receive the members. Whom do we receive today? Are we in a posture to receive new members? Do we receive our own present members, or do ageism, racism, and ideological battles cut us off from one another before we begin? Do we know how "they" think before they speak? Do we turn people off?. How do those of us in international orders receive members of cultures not our own? How do these things affect our bonding and our future? While we complain that members have "dropped out" of our congregations, how large is our own circle of inclusion? Ecclesial. In the 19th century the juridical mentality of the church regarding religious life was one of enclosure. To be a reli-gious meant to be "removed" from the world. The new congre-gations forming, however, were different from what canon law described. Hence, they required a new mentality to give them birth ecclesially. The church had to receive something with which it was not familiar. We find that new congregations of simple vows were formed over a period of a hundred years, while the main body of canon laws officially recognized as "religious" only the traditional, enclosed style of religious life.~3 A more radical dia-logue between religious life and the society produced, not the death of religious life, but a newness in its expression and form. The church had an important role in fostering this newness. What today needs to be received to allow this tradition to continue? Responding The next step in affective bonding is a response beyond mere attending to a call or invitation. In response a person does some- Review for Religious thing with, in, or,about the call, besides merely perceivin~ it~ Our first response to the call ofour vocation was to enter, to promise we would give our vocation a try. 0 Responding can begin passively as compliance and later .become voluntary. When persons begin religious life, they often do things they areasked even though the purpose of them may not seem evident at the time. Many would tell of judging early adjust-ments as "what is involved" and going along with what was asked. In order to take on the story of the community and its way of life, such a response is required. When response becomes volun-tary, an emotional response of pleasure or enjoyment occurs. .Responding to people, events, and matters of one's community is accompanied by a feeling of satisfaction. It is obvious that responding is an ongoing element in the obedience of the religious. What marks its distinctiveness is the passage from compliance to voluntary action. Compliance is a valuable obedient response .to many requests in religious life. However, it is only through voluntary action that affective bond-ing moves beyond the fragile link of compliance. The satisfac-tion that comes from voluntary'action is the free blending of the hearts and the wills, which is of the essence of obedience as affec-tive bonding. Compliance is only the handmaiden of voluntary action. Disaffection can occur at the level of responding when a per-son cannot move from compliance to voluntary action. Religious slip .if, fearing enforcement or fearing that lack of any response at all would invite emotional sanctions from. their peers, .they do only what they have to do. Disaffection sets in because in this state the religious are bereft of the normal emotional satisfaction that should come from voluntary participation in the life and mis-sion of their congregations. Congregational. The need to create meaningful avenues bf response' is key to growth in a congregation. Withdrawal breeds lack of emotional involvement, and lack of emotional involve-ment breeds withdrawal. Research claims that altruism in a group actually atrophies when it is not called forth.~4 The resources of love in a group are not fixed or limited; rather these moral resources respond positively to practice, to learning by doing, and negatively to nonpractice. This is not to recommend mak-ing~ exaggerated demands, but only to.re'commend that the group do some stretching. May-~tne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments ~'Ecclesial. The 19th century was'a ,tirfie of new needs. The tur-moil of the Industrial Revolution called ~eligious. from the clois-ter to active involvement in collective, works :of'social significance: education, social services, and healthcare:The church was called to expand its geographical reach and its ministerial presence in a society which claimed its irrelevance. The times were not unlike our own. -, 'Religious, however, ~,ere .partners with the church in meeting this crisis. Many 19th-century orders had superiors general and were not directly under the authority of a local bishop. This new jurisdictional authority in the church enabled the coordination of ministerial works which were transdiocesan and which in turn established the credibility of the church in sectors where it was not previously received,t5 Response of religious to the ,church and response of the mag-isterial church to religious have to continue this tradition for the sake of both the church and religious life, for neither ~prospers in a climate of alienation. The crisis of the 19th century stimulated the creation of a n~w authoritative identity in the church. What is needed today to. strengthen the relationship between religious and the magisterial church is 'for each to view the other novas a problem but as a partner. At this valuing stage in the process of obedience, members make it clear that membership in community is worth something to them. There is enough participation in the life and mission of orie's congregation and enough identification with its way of life so that other people readily identify the members as belonging to the group, _ A later stage of valuing consists of efforts to grow as members, Opportunities for renewal and deepening are sought out. Here there 'is an actual preference for religious life and its values. One is committed by choice. There is an investment of time and energy beyogd the minimum. Members manifest a growing conviction and loyalty regarding the values of religious life and a desire to convinceothers or at~least share their own faith experience. Here the satisfaction felt earlier as pleasure is transformed into an aroused need or drive to act and grow as members of the congregation within the ~hurch and society. There is a motivation to live the life to its fullest extent. Commitment is measured by Review for Religious the extending of such dedicated living over a period of time and by renewed desire to continue. The ongoing dynamic of obedience is shown in the act of prefei'ence.One prefers the life and mission of one's congregation over other things. One willingly considers community priorities in selection of a mission. One willingly chooses to work through a difficult community situation. One faithfully stands by someone in illness in spite of its time-consuming nature. This is the dynamic of valuing. This growth enables the member not just to par~ ticipate passively in community life, but to function actively. A~ fundamental values are owned and appropriated deeply, they also can be translated into new forms and expressions~ Congregational. Conviction regarding the life and mission of the community breeds new endeavors and investment in the worth of meaningful traditions. Dispiritedness, however, grows in a con-gregational climate of doubt about the value of the group, its authenticity, and its future. There is no longer a desire to invite new members. There are no new initiatives. There is apathy and lack of commitment to act and grow as members. People have no energy for anything but super-ficial reminiscing and required presence. This is a great danger especially in a congregational culture which has relied on com-pliance and force as its bond of membership. No one individual can treat this doubt. A~ a situation of moral hazard, it requires group ac6on and leadership. Without oppor-tunitiesto move from compliance to voluntary action, religious are not likely to deepen .their valuing of their congregational life, for they know little of the emotional satisfaction that. comes from voluntary action. Many congregations today are discussing processes of "re-membering," of calling their members to reinvest in new ways that could help them overcome the apathy and fear which threat-ens them. When such a decision of valuing occurs, it leads to the more mature obedience of the next stages. Ecdesial. The effort of the Synod to study the value of religious life was for us religious a supportive moveas we seek or explore The ongoing dynamic of obedience is shown in the act of preference. One prefers the life and mission of one's congregation over other things. May-ffTtne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments our meaning and role now and into the new millennium. We reli-gious need the affirmation of the church, not just passively, but to help us participate in its life actively and creatively within its own re-creation. On our part, what values does our experience rec-ognize as essential in spite of the rapid change we'have under-gone? What support do we need so that w& can translate these values into new fo~ms~and expressions? What do we need and what do we not need from the church? If we religious do not want our relationship to the magisterial church to be based on compliance and ~force, then we too have to do our communal work in taking hold of our future. Prioritiz~ ing As one matures in religious life, membership has to be inte-grated with other values: career goals, family relationships, beliefs, coping, with personal crises, new knowledge and experiences and opportunitie~. Religious have to see how life in community and in the church relates to other dimensions of their life. ~ The first step in prioritizing is a willingness to think issues through. The next step is to bring together a complex of values, possibly disparate values, into some semblance of order and mean-ing. Since renewal has brought a plethora :of experiences into a community, it is critical that the group be' able to sit and talk about .these new yearnings. This ability to talk,will help keep the bonds of~community realistic and centered in the present. For instance, communities can ask how members experience com-' munity when they live apart from the group. Religious need to .relate multicultural experiences, new ways of prayer, educational o'pportunities, changes in the church, mis-sion experience, and women's issues with their membership in religious community. This may require familiarity with new areas of church teaching or involvement in groups within or outside . the community that gr.apple with how the gospel and new per-sonal experiences impinge on one another. For instance, religious who are working through various types of addictive behaviors can learn together the meaning of a twelve-step program in their lives as religious. While this is, an affective process, a sharing of the heart, it also involves cognitive growth, new information, and the ability to generalize and engage in abstract thinking. It requires accu-rate information. In many instances it requires good theology. Review for Religious How do women's issues, church membership, and fidelity to reli-gious commitment relate? How is one a feminist and a member of the church? How does one integrate his desire for political reform and his commitment to the priesthood, which usually means he cannot hold public office? How does one uphold one's valuing of community life and yet reach out in a ministry that makes com-munity contact difficult? Prioritizing is an act of obedience. The organization of values as one prioritizes may result in their synthesis into new ways of membership and deeper investment in the church and community. It is obvious that prioritizing is a principal task in fol-lowing a mature religious lifecourse. Those who take on the hard work of prioritizing achieve a high result, that is, an internally consistent integration of membership in their congregation and church with other aspects of their lives. Congregational. VChen we look at the religious of the 19th century, we can see they did this prioritizing. They integrated religious commitment with an entirely new cul-ture of the Industrial Revolution. They influenced the culture and created a new expression of religious life. They distinguished themselves from "regular" cloistered religious life by collective works of social significance: education, social services, and health-care. In the eyes of the church, it was the leaving of the world which constituted the religious state. However, these religious were immersed in the world. How were they religious? They rejected the upward mobility of liberal society by differentiating their activity from other forms of work in the society. They were active in the society yet were removed by social position. They were "placed" by obedience in the works of their congregation. Their works were not those of the new profitable capitalist cor-porations, although there is evidence of scattered experiments with founding "Christian factories" to give the poor employment and a sense of Christian community.~6 We religious'today are called to the task of integrating our charism with the new situation of our culture. We still struggle with how we have left the world yet are immersed in it as a place of revelation and service. This struggle to achieve a balanced understanding will overcome the feeling of powerlessness, isola-tion, and frustration in the face of a vast and complex future. Prioritizing is an act of obedience. May-Jvtne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments Those who avoid prioritizing see the choice of religious as between embracing everyday secular life as they know it and going back to a pre-Vatican life based on a religious worldview that no longer communicates, This all-or-nothing viewpoint eliminates the possibility of synthesis between the real world of everyday life and the transcendent one which prioritizing calls forth. Ecclesial. For this prioritizing to occur, there has to be a cli-mate in the church in which one can safely explore new avenues of thought and living, engaging in critical reflection and respectful dissent until the value and relationship of new ideas to the mysteries of the Christian life is.evident. Today something is perceived as credible, not just because the church says it, but because it makes human sense. Religious need to be involved in helping the church make sense to the world and the world make sense to the church. Needed church reforms such as giving women more .decision-mak-ing power cannot be ignored by religious orders if they hope at the same time to promote the credibility of the church in first-world society; nor can economic, social, and political reforms be supported only halfheartedly in poverty situations in both the first and third worlds. These corporate stances of prioritizing mark the communal path of obedience within a congregation. Communal Character/Characterization At this stage of obedience, the values of membership in their congregation have a place in the individual members' lives. The values are organized into some kind of internally consistent sys-tem and have controlled the behavior of the individual members for enough time that they are now readily seen as persons who have adopted "living the life" of the congregation. It is impor-tant to note that such a stage of obedience does not come until members have had to prioritize, that is, integrate the new dis-coveries of their gei~eration with the gospel and the founding charism. There is no "cheap grace" in religious life, and one gen-eration cannot hand on to another a ready-made commitment. At this stage of characterization, issues surrounding mem-bership no longer arofise emotion or affect except when the indi-vidual is threatened or challenged. By now .the members are described and characterized as individual persons by their iden-tification with the congregation. It has been integrated into their entire philosophy of life or worldview. To an outsider, identification with the congregation is so clear Review for Religious that it makes individual members predictable and comprehensible. The values of the community are important determiners of the way the various members approach a problem, determining what they will see as important in it. In other words, the living charism becomes a principle of ongoing and daily discernment and opens the religious to the full call of the gospel. The values of the charism will limit the things that members will take into account in attempting to find a solution .to a prob-lem. They provide a focus and an identity. They will al

Issue 56.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1997. ; for re,lig i ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST1997 ¯ VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER4 Review for Religious (s a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is pul31ished bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone:314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPI~I~MA@SLU.I~I)U Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Hendersou, NC 27536 POSTMASTF~R Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1997 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy auy material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creatio,i of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review fi3r Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY/AUGUST1997 * VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER4 contents prayer 342 Evoking the Spirit: Reflections on How to Pray ¯ ~°~Richard Hauser SJ explores the role of the Spirit in bringing about a communion with God, the goal of all prayer methods. 359 Liturgy of the Hours: Path to Integration Judy Roxborough STJ describes how praying the Liturgy of the Hours in community offers many ways in which we can find unity and wholeness, with ourselves, with our commutfity, with the world, and with all of creation. 364 370 spiritual direction What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority? Steve R. Wigall refocuses the question about the spiritual director's authority by considering the role of the Holy Spirit and the directee's freedom in this ministry. Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction Shaun McCarty ST explores the nature and necessity of confidentiality in the ministry of spiritual direction and also some legal considerations affecting its practice. Review for Relig4ous 378 387 psychology Psychology: An Aid to Religious Formation Sefin D. Sammon FMS considers three specific and pressing initial and ongoing formative challenges and examines how psychology may help. Mental-Health Consultation with Religious Orders Alexander H. Smith Jr. considers elements of effective consultation from the perspective of both consultant and community in order to inform, to caution, and to encourage well-grounded principles and practices. 4O2 412 consecrated life Visiting a Scene. of Election Janet K. Ruffing RSM focuses within congregational elections on the ongoing partnership and collaboration of each assembly member and the entire body with those who are elected. The Rewards of a Costly Community Roger Finke ~ses sociological data to demonstrate that new members are attracted to religious congregations that have a distinctive community and mission. 340 433 departments Prisms ~,~, /~,~ -,¢- -r~ Canonical Counsel: Levels of Legislation in an Institute Book Reviews July-August 1997 prisms Jesus Christ is central to our faith and to its practices. As we continue our preparations for celebrating the third millennium in the spirit of John Paul II's 1995 letter, we could well reflect on how central Jesus is to our life, our prayer, and our work--to our everyday world. Jesus identified himself as one "preaching the good news." Jesus, first and foremost, proclaimed himself an "evangelizer." He talked about God. He talked about God's sons and daughters. He talked about God's world. Everything Jesus described--the first rays of sunlight, birds nesting, an old woman giving her little bit of money in the temple; whatever he listened to--spring water flow-ing, a baby's cry, musicians at a wedding feast; things that he could smell and taste--the freshness of a spring rain, the rich flavor of wine; whatever he touched--the mud to put on a blind man's eyes, the coldness of a young man's dead body, the warmth of John's embrace, or the lock-tight hold of Mary Magdalen on -Easter morning: every-thing spoke to him of the wonder of each of God's creatures, but even deeper down the wonder and beauty of God. And so Jesus could tell simple stories about seeds and growth, about wedding banquets and joy, about being neighbors and doing good to battered strangers Every time, in every instance, he is talking about God and our dealings with God. There is a Latin verb--conversari~-which means "to turn in relation with" and thus "to interact with," "to have dealings with," "to engage," or "to converse with" (our English word conversation obviously derives from it). In the light of this Latin derivation, we might say that all R~iew for Religious. our conversation--all our "talking"--is much broader in meaning and takes in all our dealings with others. Jesus was an evangelizer in all his dealings with the men and women of his time. Every incident in the Gospels is a picture of Jesus evangelizing--engag-ing people in the divine context of their lives. What does that say about us as Jesus' followers? To be evan-gelizers we do not have to go off to school and get degrees in theology. We do not have to exile ourselves to another country. All we need do is deal with the people in our everyday world the way Jesus talked and dealt with the people in his ~veryday world. He presented to each person a new quality of life; he uncovered divine values beneath the surface of all our human dealings. But for us to act in such a way implies that our world and the events in our lives speak of God to us so that we can speak of God to others. Like Jesus, we have to become aware of a world alive in God. Isn't that an essential to the good news which we live and speak about and deal with others about? John Paul has stressed repeatedly that we are being called to a new evangelization. Today we call our effort a "new evange-lization" because our educated world seems so ignorant of Jesus' way bf seeing (seeing deeper down) and because we ourselves, whatever our vocation in life, whatever our age, whatever our tal-ents and .education, are newly conscious of our responsibilities to preach the good news. For us to be Christian, to be like Jesus, we must be missionary; we must be evangelizers. How do we, neophyte evangelizers, start to live in Jesus' world? By reading the Gospels. Throughout the rest of this year. dedicated especially to Jesus, we need to set an agenda for our-selves of reading the Gospels through--slowly and over and over again. We need to let their words, their stories, become the warp and woof of our lives. We will be imbibing Jesus' way of being an evangelizer. We will assume more and more a stance of dealing with people in Jesus'. kind of world--a world alive in God. Like Jesus, we will be doing our part in making ourselves and our world come alive.in God. Like Jesus, we will be preaching good news to the "poor," that is, those who have so little a sense of God's pres-ence permeating their everyday world. David L. Fleming sJ 3~uly-August 1997 prayer RICHARD J. HAUSER Evoking the Spirit: Reflections on How to Pray Students in my graduate spirituality classes frequently ask about the most effective method of prayer for attaining union with God. They ask whether centering prayer from The Cloud of Unknowing is more effective than lectio prayer from the Benedictine tradition. (Lectio prayer is short-hand for lectio-meditatio-oratio-contemplatio prayer, a method from the 12th century for praying with Scripture.) Recently claims have been made for one method over the other. I am uncomfortable with assumptions behind such ,questions: that a method is necessary, that one method is more effective than another, that the effects depend upon our activity. After teaching methods of prayer conscien-tiously for years, I have been led by experience to soften my assertions about the use of method. My uneasiness regarding methods relates primarily to people's almost Pelagian lack of awareness 6f the role of the Holy Spirit, in any method of prayer or spiritual dis-cipline. The basic question for all spirituality is how we ¯ integrate our human effort with the role of the Spirit. Pope John Paul's 1986 encyclical, "Lord and Giver of Life," offers an apt response. Reflecting upon the Gospel of John and Christ's promise.to send ;another advocate to take his place, the pope summarizes the Christian tradition Richard J. Hauser SJ is chair of the Department of Theology at Creighton University and director of its graduate programs in theology, ministry; and spirituality. This is his tenth article for our journal. ,His address is Creighton University; 2500 California Street; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. Revie'w for Religious. on the Holy Spirit as sanctifier: "The redemption accomplished by the Son in the dimensions of the earthly history of human-ity-- accomplished in the 'departure' through the cross and res-urrection- is at the same time, in its entire salvific power, transmitted to the Holy Spirit: the one who 'will take what is mine'" (§11). The pope echoes Vatican Council II's emphasis on the Holy Spirit by insisting we adequately understand Christian vocation only when we understand the role of the Holy Spirit: the entire effect of the redemption is brought about by the Holy Spirit. We post-Vatican II Christians are challenged,to renew our theolog-ical models of the church, of the self, and of spirituality in light of our renewed understanding of the work of the Holy Spirit--an understanding all but lost before the council. And we are then challenged to renew every spiritual discipline, including personal prayer. The Spirit and Vatican II: Shift in Models One shift in models concerns the church. In recent decades we have witnessed two different, ~ough complementary, models of church. Each model assigns a distinctive role to the Holy Spirit. (Since I am a Roman Catholic, my primary understanding of church is that of my own tradition, but I have learned that my insights are applicable to Protestant traditions as well.) In the first model the Holy Spirit is indeed present in the church, but the church is seen primarily as an institution governed by hierarchi-cal authority--for Catholics: priests, bishops, pope. The Holy Spirit guides the institution through the hierarchy, and the hier-archy, especially the local priest, guides the people. The institu-tion rests secure because an infallible guidance in faith and morals was promised to it. In the second or Vatican II model, the Holy Spirit is present in the church, but the church is seen as the peo-ple of God, the entire community of believers, head and members united in the one Body of Christ. While continuing to guide the church corporately, the Holy Spirit also guides the members indi-vidually. The following excerpts from chapter 1 of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) highlight this truth elegantly. The Spirit dwells in the church and in the hearts of the faithful as in a temple. In them he prays and bears wimess yuly-A ugust 1997 Hawser ¯ Evoking the Spirit to the fact that they are adopted sons. The Spirit guides the church into the fullness of truth and gives it a unity of fellowship and service. He furnishes and directs it with var-ious gifts, both hierarchical and charismatic, and adorns her with the fruits of his grace. In order that we may be unceasingly renewed in him [Jesus], he has shared with us his Spirit, who, existing as one and the same being in the head and in the members, vivifies, unifies, and moves the whole bod);. Another shift in models is related to the church as the Body of Christ and concerns the nature of the self. Christians are dis-covering anew a central element of the New Testament message: the role of the Spirit within the self. Before Vatican II this role was virtually absent from our consciousness; now it dominates theo-logical consciousness. The plethora of books on the Spirit and spirituality in recent years are a sign of this. What is the role of the Spirit within the self?. Our treatment of this topic must begin with the Last Supper discourse in John's Gospel. Jesus is comforting his disciples, having told them of his imminent departure. But now I am going to the one who sent me, and not one of you asks me, "Where are you going?" But because I told you this, grief has filled your hearts. But I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For if I do not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. (Jn 16:5-7, revised NAB here and throughout) Jesus assures them it is better for them that he'goes; the, Spirit he sends will take his place, guiding and strengthening' them in their mission. Indeed, this union with himself through the Spirit is the condition for apostolic effectiveness. The Gospel could not be more clear: Remain in me, as I' remain in you. Just as a branch cannot bear fruit on its own unless it remains on the vine, so nei-ther can you unless you remain in me. I am the vine, you are °the branches. Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit, because without me you can do nothing. (In 15:4-5) Jesus' prediction is fulfilled at Pentecost when the Spirit descends on the community. The Acts of the Apostles gives wit-ness to the working of the Spirit in the apostolic church. Note the difference in the disciples before and after the coming of the Spirit. Review for Religious Among New Testament writings the epistles of Paul are a most eloquent witness to this power of the Spirit--a power he received only after his conversion to Christ at Damascus. For Paul, belief in Jesus with the subsequent infusion of the life of the Spirit is the source of all power. It is a new principle of life. Paul contrasts it with the flesh and its tendency to sin. But you are not in the flesh; on. the contrary, you are in the spirit, if only the Spirit of God dwells in you. Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the spirit is alive because of righteousness. If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies also, through his Spirit that dwells in you. (Rm 8:9-11) This principle of life infuses the Christian community, form-ing one body, the Body of Christ, with every member united and animated by the Spirit. As a body is one though it has many parts, and all the parts of the body, though many, are one body, so also Christ. For in one Spirit we were all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, slaves or free persons, and we were all given to drink of one Spirit. (1 Co 12:12-13) A note on the activity of the Spirit in the self: The Holy Spirit joins our human spirit; it does not replace it. We humans enjoy three modes of activity flowing from the three dimensions of our being: physical, psychological, and spiritual. It is helpful to imag-ine three concentric circles: the center is the spirit, the middle is the mind, the outer is the body. Every human activity engages all three levels. Our physical and psychological activities are obvious to all. But what are our spiritual activities? The spiritual level is the level of our freedom, our freedom to respond to the Spirit or not to respond. The Holy Spirit joins our human spirit, initiating within us the desire for goodness~without the Spirit's presence we would nbt even have the desire. Responding to the Spirit, then, transforms the other levels of our b.eing, the physical and the psychological. The Spirit is the principle for all Christian life. Traditionally this indwelling of the Spirit has been called sancti-fying grace. Personal prayer--like every spiritual activity--is a response to the Spirit. An important corollary flows from this truth: We can trust our inner selves. At our center we have God's Spirit to guide us. .l~uly-Aug'ust 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit Previous approaches to spirituality did not adequately acknowl-edge that presence. Commonly they taught that the self cannot be trusted because of fallen human nature and inherited original sin. This inherited brokenness so dominated our consciousness that we undervalued the power of redemption from sin. Since we could not trust this inner self, it became necessary to look outside our-selves for external guidelines. Contemporary approaches, too, acknowledge human brokenness--hence the emphasis on dis-cernment of spirits--but they also acknowledge the real effect of Christ's redemption. We have been freed from the slavery of sin; therefore, we can trust our inner selves. Grace in us is stronger than sin in us. Frequently we Christians have substituted fidelity to prescribed formal prayers--morning and night prayers, meal prayers, divine office, prayerbook formularies--for a more inte-rior response to the Spirit. Unfortunately, the Vatican II theological renewal concerning the Holy Spirit has not yet permeated popular consciousness thor-oughly. Many of us live within a different model of the self, which I will call the Western model because I recognize that it dominates the approach to God of many in the Western Hemisphere, In this model God is solely transcendent--in heaven--and so not dwelling within the self through the Spirit. This God in heaven is not readily seen as the initiator of good actions. Though the Western model duly acknowledges that we are made to know, love, and serve God in this life and so be happy in the next, it tends to give God no role in these actions until after they are performed, when rewards of grace are given in this life leading to the reward of heaven in the next. In this model, people tend to see themselvesas the initiators of their own good deeds, including personal prayer. Sanctifying grace is often erroneously under-stood as the treasury in heaven of merit earned by good works on earth. This Western view of self is not taken from the New Testament, but rather absorbed from several aspects of our culture. Our culture is secular. Our .view of the self tends also to be sec-ular; we do not recognize God's presence within us and its influ-ence on our inner motivation. At best we give intellectual assent that through baptism we receive sanctifying grace and so God is with us, but this notion of God's presence does not tend to affect our daily motivation. Our culture is also capitalistic, and financial rewards are conditioned on performance; we presume God gives Review for Religious spiritual rewards the same way, rewarding the just with grace--and perhaps even material prosperity--and withholding these rewards from the unjust. Our culture is individualistic. We prize inde-pendence and eschew any dependence, even finding dependence on God's grace demeaning. Without giving it much thought, we just presume we earn our salvation as we earn everything in life: by our own hard work. This view has disastrous effects on our understanding of how to pray: since the Spirit is not present within us, prayer cannot be a response to the Spirit, Another shift in models concerns spirituality itself. Unfortunately, we Christians have not drawn out implications of the Vatican II-renewed models of the church and the self and applied them to our practice of spirituality or to our personal prayer. Christian spirituality is a response to the Spirit. Today attention has shifted from performing spiritual disciplines (like prayer) externally to responding internally to the Spirit pres-ent in our hearts. Paul teaches his Jewish communities that they have been freed from subservience to the 613 Mosaic laws and are now called to respond to an inner law: "Now we are released from the law, dead to what held us captive, so that we may sePce in the newness of the spirit and not under the obsolete letter" (Rm 7:6). This truth also highlights the inadequacy of the Western-model understanding of good actions as self-initiated and emphasizes the scriptural teaching that~all good deeds are Spirit-initiated. Prayer and service not flowing from the heart do not fulfill Jesus' commandment of love. The Gospels present Jesus as hav-ing the most difficulty with a group of people who perfectly ful-filled all the commandments externally: the Pharisees. Jesus refers to them as whitened sepulchers. Externally they kept the com-mandments, internally they violated their very essence: love. Luke's parable on the Pharisee and the tax collector going to the temple to pray calls attention to the centrality of one's heart in prayer. The Pharisee boasted of his fidelity in keeping all the commandments, emphasizing his superiority to the tax collector. "But the tax collector stood off at a distance and would not even raise his eyes to heaven but beat his breast and prayed, 'O God, be merciful to me.a sinner.' I tell you, the latter went home jus-tified, not the former; for everyone who exalts himself will be Grace in us is stronger than sin in us. Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted" (Lk 18:13-14). Previous approaches to spirituality often seemed more con-cerned with the external performance of prayer and service than with the quality of heart underlying them. Indeed, we usually examined our consciences in terms of sinful actions performed or omitted. For instance we focused not on whether we hated our neighbor, but on whether we performed hateful actions. Likewise we focused not on whether we praised God at Sunday Mass, but on whether we fulfilled our obligation by being physically pres-ent- our dispositions were irrelevant. Luke's presentation on the love commandments catches the quality of heart central to spirituality. Recall that the questioner was coming from a mentality that focused on the external obser-vance of many Torah-related precepts as central to observant Jews. Jesus, however, echoes the simpler injunction from the same Scriptures: "Teacher,'what must I do to inherit eternal life?" Jesus said to him, "What is written in the law? How do you read it?" He said in reply, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your being, with all your strength, and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself." He replied to him, "You have answered correctly; do this and you will live." (Lk 10:25-28) We should recall that love is always a response to the Spirit: love in us originates with God in us: Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God; everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love . Beloved, if God so loved us, we also must love one another. No one has ever seen God. Yet, if we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to per-fection in us. (1 Jn 4:7-8, 11-12) The Spirit and Spontaneous Prayer How does the above apply to how we pray? that is, to what we do when' we withdraw individually to be with the Lord? I will begin with our commonest experience of prayer, spontaneous prayer, prayer outside of formal prayer times. Prayer itself I describe simply as "the movement of the heart toward God under the influence of the Holy Spirit": no heart movement, no prayer. Review for Religious (Prayer cannot be identified with either words we say or thoughts we think; indeed, prayer need not be accompanied by either words or thoughts. In Christian tradition the deepest prayer transcends both.) The movement occurs only when we are "under the influ-ence of the Holy Spirit." When we are not in touch with the Spirit, we cannot respond to it. The movement of the heart under the influence of the Spirit is "toward God." The Spirit moves us towards the Father and towards Jesus. As Christian theology sees the Spirit as the bond of union between the Father and the Son in the Trinity, so the Spirit is our bond of union with the Father and Jesus. In the communion of saints, the Spirit unites us also with Mary and the other saints. We on earth are united with them as they now are in heaven, where they continually love and praise the Father and Jesus. There they can be pri;cileged intercessors for us. With them we move toward communion with the Father and Jesus. A note about the purpose of prayer: Often we unreflectively assume that prayer is for the pur-pose of seeking specific favors from God. Deeper reflection, however, reveals that in prayer we are really seeking a confirmation of God's love for us. The purpose behind all our prayer is a deeper communion with the Father and with Jesus. Though we may be led to prayer for many different reasons, as we continue praying we eventually realize that our deepest need is for God's presence and support: the Spirit has transformed our initial desires. The process is not unlike Jesus' transformation in the Garden of Gethsemane. He initially seeks to have the chalice removed, but ends yielding to God's will and presence. I believe we experience over and over again the truth of Augustine's excla-mation "Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee." In prayer there are many levels of .communion, of experienc-ing God's presence. The very desire for God's help is already a rudimentary experience of communion, even though the desire may be interspersed with distractions. The desire is real, but at this level the Spirit has not yet transformed other dimensions of the self. At a deeper level the movement toward God in prayer may be accompanied by tranquillity and peace. The Spirit makes us aware that the world is in God's hands, and we rest in the secu-rity of our relationship with our loving Lord. This is the usual In prayer we are really seeking a confirmation of God's love for us. ~uly-August 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit experience. But, at an even deeper level, the Spirit so unites us to God that we lose conscious awareness of our communion with God. During the momentary experience itself, self-awareness recedes, but we are able to reflect upon the experience afterwards. The experience leaves a residue. The residue is described as wholeness, joy, contentment. Reflection on my own prayer experiences leads .me to a sur-prising conclusion (one I would not have made ten years ago): I find my heart drawn to God as frequently during spontaneous prayer as during the times I set aside for formal prayer. I have noticed that certain conditions foster these experiences--am I describing for myself a method for spontaneous prayer? The times and places are important. On schooldays the expe-riences occur mostly in the evenings after I have completed my day's work. Having put aside preoccupation with projects, I either take a leisurely walk around the campus or sit in one of my favorite places, such as a secluded university garden or the fountain-piazza in front of the church. On weekends the experiences can occur anytime, provided I have put aside preoccupations with work. I must give myself enough time for the experiences to occur--min-imally fifteen minutes, ideally a half hour--and must never be rushed. These experiences of spontaneous prayer, especially as they occur in natural settings, have affected my retreats and vacations. I now choose places for my annual retreats primarily for their setting. I find that my heart moves to God through nature in spontaneous ways that thoroughly refresh me. I consider the for-mal reflections characteristic of retreats as no more important than simply enioying the Lord's presence in nature. In these places God gives me the insights I need for my life. For my annual vaca-tions, too, I choose settings that facilitate spontaneous prayer. I see vacations as similar to retreats, as times for being re-created by God's presence, not simply as times to be distracted from my daily life. I find myself breaking into spontaneous prayer also at other times during the day. Most commonly this occurs after a partic-ularly successful class or during a walk down the campus mall. on an especially beautiful day. And it occurs when I am faithful to times of formal prayer. I believe we sensitize ourselves to the Spirit's presence during formal prayer, making it more likely that prayer will break forth spontaneously during daily activities~ Review for Religious The Spirit and Formal Prayer Only after discussing spontaneous prayer do I feel comfortable discussing formal prayer. Recall that formal prayer refers to time specifically.set aside for personal prayer. The question about the merits of centering prayer and lectio prayer makes sense only in the context of formal prayer. What method of prayer should we use to facilitate responding to the Spirit and reaching commu-nion with God? Remember that our role is to provide the condi-tions for responding to the Spirit. We all have our own rhythms for maintaining union with God. The observations I make here are attempts to share what has been working for myself. They do not imply that this is the way it should be done. Since we humans are complex beings of body, mind, and spirit, it is important for us to 0 find our own personal ways of getting our bod-ies and our minds ready to respond to the Spirit. The following patterns work for me. Time, place, and setting are important. First, the time. After rising, showering, shaving, and getting a cup of coffee, I light a candle and begin a period of sixty to ninety minutes. I sip the coffee and do some journaling; then, putting the coffee aside, I pray the morning office; finally, I move to personal prayer for the last twenty to thirty minutes. I never rush, spending as much time journaling as needed. It.clears my head and allows me to process what has built up in my psyche, matter which could emerge as distractions in my prayer. Often journaling provides the topic for the subsequent prayer. Next, the place. I pray in my own room, in a chair next to a large window that looks eastward over the secluded garden I men-tioned above; the chair, facing my prayer wall, is upholstered and comfortable, but supports me firmly in an upright position. On a side table are all the things I need: my journal, a Bible, the daily office, a lectionary, meditation books related to the liturgical season. I love this room, away from my offices. The window, open in warm weather, gives direct access to the sights and sounds of the garden and to the warmth and light of the rising sun. My prayer wall is hung with favorite icons, prints, and crucifixes gathered over the years; I rearrange it for the various liturgical seasons and feasts. Physical details are key: the time, the place, the furniture and furnishings. The regular rhythm of entering this environment at I believe we sensitize ourselves to the Spirit's presence during formal prayer. July-August 1997 Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit this time each day not only helps one to be receptive to the Spirit, but often occasions immediate communion with the Lord. Given the desire for communion with God, praying can be simple: just find the right time and place and go there regularly! Prayer methods, too, can dispose one to receive the Spirit. The methods of lectio prayer and centering prayer differ. Lectio prayer is a response to God's presence in the word. The word of God has many meanings. God is present in the scriptural word; traditionally most have found this to be the most helpful starting point for prayer. God is also present in the word of creation; some find focusing on God's presence in the beauty of nature a more effective beginning. God is present in the existential word as well; many find focusing on God's presence in the events and people of their lives the most effective beginning. But all aspects of cre-ation- images, poetry, music--are words of God and possible starting points for prayer. God is present in all of reality, sus-taining it in existence and using it to bring us into communion: "Creation proclaims the glory of God." In lectio prayer we choose an aspect of God's word to focus our attention; and then .we wait, listen, and respond to that word--under the influence of the Spirit. Our effort is to attend to God's word and, as much as pos-sible, avoid letting our attention be drawn toward distractions. In lectio prayer we are led by the Spirit toward a progres-sively deeper response to God's presence in the word. Frequently the dynamic is from thinking (meditatio) about God's presence~in the word, to praying (oratio) to God in response, to simply rest-ing (contemplatio) in God's presence without either thinking about God or even consciously praying to God. Guido II, a 12th-cen-tury Carthusian abbot, gives the classic expression of the internal dynamic of this prayer: You can see., how these degrees are joined to each other. One precedes the other, not only in the order of time but of causality. Reading (lectio) comes first and is, as it were, the foundation; it provides the subject matter we must use for meditation. Meditation (meditatio) considers more carefully what is to be sought after; it digs, as it were, for treasure which it finds and reveals; but, since it is not in medita-tion's power to seize upon the treasure, it directs us to prayer. Prayer (oratio) lifts itself up to God with all its strength and begs for the treasure it longs for, which is the sweemess of contemplation. Contemplation (contemplatio) when it comes rewards the labors of the other three; it ine-briates the thirsting soul with the dew of h~avenly sweemess. Review for Religlous Reading is an exercise of the outward senses; meditation is concerned with the inward understanding; prayer is con-cerned with desire; contemplation outstrips every faculty. (Guido II, Ladder of Monks, Cistercian Publications, 1978) The goal of the process is contemplation which "outstrips every faculty" and rests in communion with God unmediatated by our own activity. Our activity recedes; God's increases. God holds us close with little or no effort on our part. An image, adapted from Abbot Thomas Keating, helps us understand the process. The Spirit is the river; the word of God the boat; God the ocean. We live in the river (the Spirit). In prayer we allow the Spirit to direct our attention to the boat (the word of God). Focusing on the boat, we move with the boat into the ocean (God). Quite similar to this is the dynamic of spbntaneous prayer. Some aspect of God's word catches our attention. Through the Spirit we respond and are brought into divine communion. Centering prayer is quite different from lec-rio pra~er. It is based bn the truth of God's pres-ence in the center of our being, beyond the level of thoughts and desires. It presumes the scrip-rural model of the self. In centering prayer we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. The method, taken from the 14th-century English classic The Cloud of Unknowing and popularized by Trappist Fathers Keating, Pennington, and Menninger, is simple. We choose a favorite appellation for God, such as, "Father," "Abba, Father," "Jesus," "Lord," "Rabboni." We begin prayer with this "prayer word" and simply sit in faith and love before God. We do not begin With any reflections about God flowing from the word of God; we simply are in faith before God. Our goal is to be totally receptive to the Spirit so that it can hold us in communion. Interior silence, is the matrix for our receptivity. Keating's advice for handling thoughts is simple: Resist no thought, react to no thought, retain no thought; simply return to the. prayer Word. Note that we do not return to this word unless a thought arises. Thoughts inevitably arise and we let them pass, returning to the prayer word. Thoughts even have a positive qual-ity to them because, as we let them pass, ,;re are removing from In centering prayer we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. ff~uly-Auffust 1997 Hauser ¯ Evoking tbe Spirit our psyches obstacles to the contemplative communion with God; they are actually part of the purification process. Handled well, they move us toward interior silence, that is, nonattachment to thoughts. Eventually thoughts may recede and we can be before God in faith with little use of the prayer word. Once you grasp the fact that thoughts are not only inevitable, but an integral part of the healing and growth initiated by God, you are able to take a positive View of them. Instead of looking upon them as painful distractions, you see them in a broader perspective that includes both interior silence and thoughts--thoughts that you do not want but which are just as valuable for the purpose of purifi-cation as moments of profound tranquillity. Vghen everything in the unconscious is emptied out, the kinds of thoughts that were~passing by in the beginning will no longer exist. There is an end to the process of purifi-cation. Then the awareness of union with God will be con-tinuous because there will be no obstacle in our conscious or unconscious life to ~interfere with it. (Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Open Heart, Amity House, pp. 112 and 102) The goal of the process is contemplation which outstrips every faculty and rests in a communion with God unmediated by our own activity--the same goal as that of lectio prayer. The image of the river (the Spirit), boat (the word of God), and ocean (God) is helpful. Remember that we live in the river (the Spirit); in centering prayer we simply move in the river directly into the ocean (God).The prayer word is not a boat; we do not use it to support thinking (meditatio) and loving (oratio) as in lec-tio prayer. The prayer word serves only to symbolize our inten-tion. The Spirit brings us directly into communion without reflection on the word of God. ~ A third method should be discussed, mantra prayer. Its assumptions and dynamics are similar to those of centering prayer. It enters the Christian tradition formally in the 5th century in the Conferences of John Cassian. In mantra prayer, too, we respond to God directly, unmediated by reflections on God's word. But we come to prayer with a previously chosen mantra, not merely with a prayer word. We begin prayer slowly repeating dae mantra, coordinating its four phrases (separated by asterisks) with our inhaling and exhaling. (Most authors, but not all, suggest coor-dination with breathing). Cassian notes that the desert fathers preferred: "O God * come to my assistance * O Lord * make haste Review for Religious to help me." The most famous.mantra in the Christian tradition, however, is the Jesus Prayer that arose among the Greek fathers in the 5th century: "Lord Jesus Christ * Son of God * have mercy on me * a sinner." Any phrase can serve as a mantra. I frequently recast scriptural passages into mantra form. Among my favorites: "The Lord * is my shepherd * there is nothing * I shall want"; "You are my servant * whom I have chosen * my beloved * with whom I am pleased"; "I am the vine * you are the branches * with-out me * you can do nothing." The method for handling thoughts is similar to that of cen-tering prayer. When thoughts occur, we simply let them pass and return to the rhythmic repetition of the mantra. This repetition is the matrix for our receptivity to the Spirit. Our effort in this method is to let pass all thoughts that occur and to return to the repetition of the mantra. We do not reflect upon the mantra, but simply use it as a way to focus our minds and symbolize our inten-tion to pray. (If we begin reflecting upon the. mantra itself, we have switched from mantra prayer to lectio prayer.) As we become still, we may want to drop parts of the mantra or even the entire mantra. We may use only the appellation "Lord" to symbolize our intention. If this occurs, we have moved from mantra prayer to centering prayer. But, in any case, the goal of all these methods is contemplative union with God which "outstrips every faculty." The holy men of the Orthodox Church see the essential task of the Christian life as being to restore this unity to man with a mind and heart integrated through prayer. The mantra provides the integrating power. It is like a harmonic that we sound in the depths of our spirit, bringing us to an' ever-deepening sense of our own wholeness and central har-mony. It leads us to the source of this harmony, to our cen-ter, rather as a radar bleep leads an aircraft home through thick fog. (John Main, Word into Silence, Paulisy Press, p. 15) The Best Method of Prayer? Praying is an art, not a science. The goal of all prayer meth-ods is communion with God. Since only the Spirit can bring about this communion, our role ,is providing conditions conducive to our receiving the Spirit. Communion remains a gift. I once believed--erroneously--that my conscientious use of a particular method guaranteed good results in prayer. There is no best way to pray. Through trial and error we individually discover what works best for ourselves. The following reflections about formal prayer July-~lug~tst 1997 Hauser * Evoking the Spirit present what has been working for me, but may not be helpful for everyone. Sometimes no method is needed. Frequently, after lighting my candle, settling into my prayer chair, sipping my coffee, and doing some journaling, I find myself already close to God with no further effort needed on my part, so I stop journaling. I am already centered; no method is needed. Perhaps my journal writings have brought to mind some blessing, some word of God, from the pre-vious day. The blessing becomes the occasion, the sacrament, for awakening consciousness of God and for resting gratefully in God's presence. The Spirit moves me from gratitude to commu-nion and contemplation. All I know is that I have no desire either to reflect upon or pray over the blessing. Or perhaps the jour-nalings have recalled a need which then becomes the occasion, the sacrament, for awakening consciousness of dependence on God and resting in silent acknowledgment of my helplessness without God: "Be still and know that I am God." Occasionally while I am journaling, saying the office, or doing my personal praying, my attention is caught unexpectedly by something in the garden outside my window: the sun rising through the trees, the song of a bird or the rusde of leaves, the fra-grance of blossoms, the wind blowing. Then I have no desire to continue reflecting Or praying: I find myself held close by God-- I am centered. Nature has become the sacrament occasioning communion with God and contemplation. Frequently my attention is caught by an icon or print on my prayer wall, the Vladimir Madonna, perhaps, or Fra Angelico's Annunciation, or a photograph of the Vatican Museum's 4th-cen-tury sculpture of the Good Shepherd. In the various liturgical seasons I may be especially caught by Hicks's Peaceable Kingdom, Gorgione's Adoration of the Shepherds, Perugino's Crucifixion, Fra Angelico's Noli Me Tangere. I believe the Spirit offers seasonal graces. Sometimes a combination of prayer methods is helpful. If I have not experienced the drawing of the Spirit toward communion and contemplation during journaling and the morning office, I readily choose lectio prayer. Usually something from the previous day or one of the readings from the office presents itself. Sometimes I look over a seasonal meditation book, reading alit-tle and then putting the book aside to see how the Spirit will move in me. Meditation books are helpful as starting points, but Review for Religious then we need to be sensitive to our own inspirations, to the exis-tential word of God as we ourselves experience it in our own lives. We need to wait in God's presence, listen to God's speaking through the word in my heart, and respond in the way the Spirit moves us. We speak only in response to the Spirit and only after we ha~;e listened. The goal of prayer is resting in a communion with God that is beyond thoughts and desires. When I reach this peaceful state, I find it helpful to switch from lectio prayer to mantra prayer. I use the mantra to keep my mind occupied and prevent distractions from arising. The gentle repetition of the mantra sustains my intention. At this point I am held to God by God with virtually no effort on my part. This restful state is often referred to as the prayer of quiet. This beginning contemplation is marked by con-scious awareness and enjoyment of God's presence. But sometimes this reflective consciousness recedes and we enter momentarily an even deeper state of contemplation. We become aware of this special grace only when we return to reflective awareness. I often move from mantra prayer to centering prayer. After a period of mantra prayer, I may find the mantra unnecessary and even bothersome. My faculties are quiet; I am centered. Using a simple prayer word, I move in faith and love toward God. When distractions arise I let them pass, renewing my intention by my prayer word, all in response to the Spirit. We speak only in response to the Spirit and only after we have listened. Evoking the Spirit God made us to be fulfilled in communion with the Father and Jesus through the Holy.Spirit--a fulfillment expressed both in prayer and in service to our neighbor. The Spirit in us yearns always for this fulfillment. In formal prayer we consciously attend to our relationship with God; ~n Sl~Ontan60us prayer it just hap-pens. Both are identity experiences, both are "movements of our hearts to God under the influence of the Spirit." The prayer expe-rience is the experience of our deepest identity; complex methods ought not get in the way of this basic yearning, of our being. I believe that all methods of Christian prayer are somehow related to one another. .~dy-,qug~st 1997 L3-S-7- Hauser ¯ Evoking the Spirit Each of us has the challenge of discovering how the Spirit is moving within us to help us experience our deepest identity. We ought never be discouraged. No matter how disturbing and pre-occupying the external events of our lives may be, we can always pray because we have been given the Spirit to help us in our weak-ness. I think Paul had his own tumultuous life in mind--and per-haps also Jesus' experience in Gethsemane--when he wrote the following words to the community in Rome, a comraunity expe-riencing persecution and even death for their faith in Christ: The Spirit too comes to the aid of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.~And the one who searches hearts knows what is the intention of the Spirit, because it intercedes for the holy ones according to God's will. (Rm 8:26-27) AMORALTHEOLOGIAN'S REQUEST¯ Professor Germaln Gnsezas beg~nmng to work on the fourt~i volume of his systemau9 treatment.of moral theolo, gy ennded The Way of the Lord Jesus. ThiS,final volun~e will troat~thE i'esp0hsibilities proper to women and men lbiing the coiasecrated life and to men who have been ordained as deacons, priests, or bishops. He seeks a~dv~lce from those whose responslbdmes he will be ~eating. To stimulate reflection tfe proposes'some questions: - What Would you expecl~ of the book ] am undertaking? What is a ~bmpa~:able resource yod Can~ think of and Would recommdnd,to a no,ice or a seminarian? ¯ What moral problems'do religious or clerics sometimes experience that are never touched on by magisterial documents and~ perhaps, seldom or never discussed in., books and journals? ~ . ¯ What rec~nt books and/or ~a_rticles have y9ufound "" ¯ especially helpful?~, ~ ¯ ,~,~,* Besides obvious ~6pics such as obedience and virginity or, celibacy for the kingdom's sake, what Other matters sh6uld I~onsider? : - ¯ ~3esid~s stu~13?ing~relevant paSs~ag~ in Scripture and. - " rele~cant magisterial docunient~,of the.tweritieth century, o whatother sources should I use?~ " Any communication he reEeives will be kept in .~tfictest confidence. All real cases used as examples in the book will be fictionalized to safeguard.~ privacy Please contact: Germain Gi'isez; Mount Saint Mary's College; En~mitsburg, Ma~land 21727, USA. Review for Religious JUDY ROXBOROUGH Liturgy of the Hours: Path to Integration Rilar Feliu STJ, former superior general of the Teresian sters, once described the Liturgy of the Hours as the frame that encloSes our day. Like the frame of a painting, our common prayer time can radically change the way we perceive the day as we look forward to it at Lauds, and back on it at Vespers. Bringing our lives to prayer through the Hours can effect far more than bringing a new perspective or adding a rosy tone' to our view. It can also be the channel for the powerful working of the word of God, which is "living and effective, sharper than any two-edged sword" (Hb 4:12). Encountering in a prayerful setting the psalms and other scripture texts again and again through the cycle of the seasons, allows them to work on us, "penetrating even between soul and spirit, joints and marrow,., to discern reflections and thoughts of the heart." Perhaps the image of a loom is more appropriate than a simple frame, for through the Hours run the threads of the word, and the threads of our lives, which can be woven together into a fabric both beautiful and whole. The Liturgy of the Hours is the frame on which we can discover unity and wholeness, helping us to integrate our lives. The first task at Lauds is to become engaged in the act of prayer. For some of us this may not be .an automatic event. At times I have found myself physically present at Lauds, perhaps Judy Roxborough STJ, a sister of the Society of St. Teresa of Jesus, has been a computer programmer in rocket-data analysis, meteorology, and telephone-circuit simulation and also an editor. She is currently involved in her first love, teaching, at Sacred Heart School in Uvalde, Texas. Her address is 343 North Crisp Street; Uvalde, Texas 78801. t-3- 9 July-August 1997 Roxborougb ¯ Liturgy of the Hours even mentally present, but somehow not engaged. I haste not tuned in to the act of prayer, the fundamental attitude of wor-ship. It is as if I were racing the engine, but in neutral. With the clutch disengaged, the highest octane gas is not going to produce one foot of forward motion. And so it seems with prayer when we are not engaged--nothing happens, in spite of all the proper rituals and words. For me it is often something from .without that calls me into prayer--a word of introduction, a song, or perhaps a line from a psalm engages me and leads me into prayer. When this happens, I am integrated into prayer, into the moment, and into relationship with my Creator. My focus changes as once again I realize the simple truth that I am creature entering into praise of my Creator. This shift in focus is the narrow doorway through which I can encounter the divine. The Liturgy of the Hours also provides a way of bringing.us a deeper .awareness of the passage of time, not just in a chrono-logical sense, but as sacred time: time as participation, together with the universe, in God's plan of salvation. The cycle of the Hours, praying Lauds at sunrise, Vespers at sunset, helps to inte-grate us with the rhythm of the day. We find our place in the diur-nal cycle. The day begins at Lauds, and in a sense the whole day becomes present as we look towards it. This is the proper moment to consecrate the day to God, to invoke the Spirit, to ask for a blessing on all that we will do, to form within our hearts the inten-tion to serve God well this day. At Vespers the day is again pres, ent--in memory--and is gathered together in thanksgiving. Whether we have succeeded or failed, found joy or sorrow, there is thankfulness that God has brought us through the day, never abandoning us. Vespers joyfully remembers, gives thanks, cele-brates, and offers the day back to God, with a sense of completion. Through the celebration of the seasons, we also find our place in the liturgical year. Advent, Christmas, Lent, Easter, Pentecost, ordinary time, and special community feasts all give us reference points within the flow of time. The simple act of becoming aware of the season in a prayerful setting helps us to become more inte-grated in time. Just as the priest puts on vestments to celebrate the Eucharist, so do we put on the season thr.ough the Hours. The mood and nuances of the season become our own. P~rticipafing in the season in this wa.y heightens our own sense of wholeness and of being at one with the world we' dwell in. This is especially meaningful in a society which anticipates seasons for commercial Review for Religious purposes, discarding them as soon as their monetary potential has expired. In many ways, as we have become insulated from natural surroundings, we have lost much of our connection with seasons, and the Liturgy of the Hours helps to mend this separation. At times we commemorate special moments of our lives in the Liturgy of the Hours: personal milestones, community feasts, civil occasions. This too helps bring unity to our lives, putting the milestones in Christian perspec-tive, forging new bonds as we each cel-ebrate our unique heritage, and making connections with the stream of civilian life. In a different sense we may find a new integration in time through the repetition of the psalms themselves. I may be struck for the first time with an application of a psalm to some event of the past. Suddenly both the psalm and the event become fresh for me and acquire new meaning. The psalm becomes my own (integrating my life with Scripture), and the past is inte-grated with the present.as it is reinterpreted in the context of the whole. This process is like weaving, going back to pick up the old threads of our lives and weaving them together with the new. The fabric of my life becomes a little more whole; time itself is being redeemed. The past is not lost forever, but brought back, cleansed a little, purified a little, healed a little, as it is brought to prayer and we discover God moving within those bygone events. The very act of praying together with the community has aspects of integration. The community chooses an hour for prayer, often one that few actually find optimal. Nevertheless, we com-mit ourselves to this time, integrating our desires and needs as community. Our physical presence at community prayer enfleshes and symbolizes our commitment to be one, a commitment that will demand a little dying from us each day. The intercessions that we offer also provide an opportunity for further integration within the community. To the extent that we are willing to bring our petitions to God beftre our brothers and sisters, to the extent that we are willing to hear their interces-sions and hold them in our hearts, to the extent that we are will- Our physical presence at community prayer enfleshes and symbolizes our commitment to be one, a bommitment that will demand a little dying from us each day. ~7~tly-Augttst 1997 Roxborou~b ¯ Liturgy of the Hours ing to pray earnestly for one another, making one another's bur-dens our own, we deepen our community life. Here is a wonder-ful opportunity to risk loving one another in community by sharing our concerns, our needs, our failures; by accepting the concerns, needs, and failures of others. Our union with the entire Body of Christ is also strength-ened as we pray the church's own prayer. We join with all the church in praying the psalms, in celebrating feasts and seasons, in lifting up our hearts to praise God for the resurrection, in thank-ing God for the day. In daily intercession we pray with and for the church, just as we do for our own needs~and for those of the com-munity. We expa~nd our horizons to the whole church, indeed, to all of humanity, through prayer. We can give a voice to the voice-less as we offer prayers of praise and petition on behalf of all those who cannot pray, those who do not know how to pray, those whose hearts are hardened against prayer. When we speak to the Lord on behalf of others, we share their burden~ and find com-munion with them. This communion, the fruit of prayer, is a grace for us, a gift that brings us to our rightful relationship.with our brothers and sisters, a relationship that allows us to become more whole, more human. Our prayer with and on behalf of others is not limited to our fellow Christians, nor even to all humanity, but includes all of God's creation. We are voice for the whole universe, awaiting redemption: "Creation awaits with .eager expectation the revela-tion of the children of God; for creation was made subject to futility, not of its own accord but because of the one who sub-jected it, in hope that creation itself would be set free from slav-ery to corruption and share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that all creation is groaning in labor pains even until now" (Rm 8:19-22). All creation is groaning, crying out for redemption. The universe itself suffers the wounds of sin and alienation and yearns for healing. We can become voice for all creatures, for all creation, in our prayer. When we lift our voices in praise or petition to the Creator, we offer praise and petition on behalf of all creatures, all creation: .birds and fish, trees and rocks. The same psalms that we recite proclaim the praise of God's silent ones: . Let the rivers clap their hands, the mountains shout with them for joy. (Ps 98:8) Let the plains be joyful and all that is in them. Review for Religious Then let ~ill the trees Of the forest rejoice. (Ps 96:12) You mountains and all hills, fruit trees and all cedars; You animals wild and tame, you creatures that crawl and fly; You kings of the earth and all peoples, princes and all who govern on earth; young men and women too, old and young alike. Let them all praise the LORD's name, for his name alone is exalted, majestic above earth and heaven. (Ps 148:9-13) The untilled meadows also drip; the hills are robed with joy. The pastures are clothed with flocks, the valleys blanketed with grain; they cheer and sing.for joy. (Ps 65:13) In becoming voice for the speechless, we find union with cre-ation, and in that union we also find our creaturehood, so that we can become more the persons we are called to be: creatures, redeemed, proclaiming God's goodness, There is a wholeness and unity suggested here, a sense of peace deriving from this kind of connectedness to the whole of God's world. To make that con-nection, even for a few moments of prayer, spins another thread that can help bind the wounds of separation for ourselves, for our communities, for "our world. Indeed, the hour we spend praying the Liturgy of the Hours offers us a path toward wholeness. Speechless In wordless psalmody I watch the sun strike golden fire atop the trees. A finite moment stills Infinity, emboldens a dare to spell a sunrise ignited by Divinity. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 3~dy-Aug~lst 1997 spiritua direction STEVE R. WIGALL What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority? One of the most debated issues in the literature of spiri-tual direction is that of the spiritual director's authority. Some argue that it is improper for spiritual directors to wield authority over their directees. They see the author-ity that has been traditionally and historically invested in the role of the director as a problem to be apologized for and avoided. Others view spiritual directors as people who properly carry a divine authority by reason of their being gifted by God to be divine instruments in directees' lives. This article surveys thes~ arguments and suggests an alter-native way of understanding the issue. Authority Is Negative Numerous articles and books begin their discussion of spiritual direction with an almost embarrassed effort to avoid, or at least redefine, the classic terms spiritual guidance or spiriiual direction. The Reverend Peter Ball, canon of S~. Paul's Cathedral in England, writes about his discomfort with both words, spiritual and direction. He considers them ambiguous and liable to be misunderstood. He expresses particular concern that the word direction implies "a sense of authority, even authoritarianism." After Steve R. Wigall is a Presbyterian clergyman and a candidate for the Th.D. degree at Boston University School of Theology. His address is 296 Lowell Street; Lawrence, Massachusetts 01841. Review for ReIigious all, he says, "a director directs, steers, is in charge. Directions are orders. You are supposed to comply with them, to obey." l William Barry and William Connolly, too, find spiritual direc-tion an awkward term: "The term spiritual direction unavoidably suggests to people of our contemporary Western culture a spiri-tualism and an authoritarianism that sound theology and psy-chology must repudiate." The fear they express is that the classic terms guidance and direction describe a practice that places exces-sive authority in the hands of the director) Green agrees that a director should not be given too much authority. He insists that the director's role with the directee must be only that of a "co-discerner" of God's voice? Doherty addresses the same concern by insisting the director should be merely the directee's friend.4 Schneiders insists that the spiritual director must exercise no authority at all over the directee. She writes that the director is just a companion whose role is to point the directee to God, but who in no way speaks, to the directee in God's name. The director-directee relationship, she writes, is fraternal or sis-terly, rather than parental,s She goes on to argue that it is invalid for the director to take an authoritarian role or to set the direc-tion of another's life, since people must exercise that responsibil-ity themselves. The director, she states, does not and cannot give direction, but merely helps directees find or discern God's direc-tion for themselves.6 Authority is Positive Other writers are less hesitant to describe the role of the director as one of authority. Guenther, for example, argues that the role of the spiritual director cannot possibly be one of mutuality and friendship. She writes that spiritual direction is essentially a hierarchical relationship in which the focus is not meant to be shared, but is to be on the directee.7 Bots and de Vries agree'that a spiritual director is not a spiritual friend. The image of friend-ship, they contend, places too much emphasis on the human aspect of the relationship and not enough on the role of the Holy Spirit.s William McNamara, who runs a spiritual retreat center in Sedona, Arizona, attributes to the spiritual director the high authority of a spiritual teacher, much like that of a guru in the Hindu tradition.9 Kallistos .Ware, like many writers who speak from the Orthodox tradition, describes the spiritual director as .y~dy-August 1997 Wigall * Wbat ls a Spiritual Director's Authority one to whom a directee gives trust and obedience, In Ware's view, the directee submits to the director's authority in order to avoid the ego trap of trying to make spiritual progress by self-will and personal effort.1° Those who invest the spiritual director with significant authority do so because they believe that God gifts and uses the director. Andrd Louf, for example, argues that a director is accorded authority as a spiritual elder because he or she is given a spiritual gift or charism by God, and that the charism enables the director to receive and impart God's authoritative word of guid-ance.~ 1 Sister Donald Corcoran explains that, in the Orthodox tradition, the authority of the spiritual director is based on the recognition that the spiritual director is a person in and through whom God works. Directors, she states, are called spiritual father or mother because they are used by God, in parentlike manner, to engender, convey, and nurture spiritual life in their directees.~2 Looking back in history, we find many authors expressing this same confidence in the spiritual director's authority. St. Symeon the New Theologian, for example, taught that the directee should understand that, because of the director's God-given gift, "fol-lowing [the director] . . . is following Christ." This is not, as Blessed John of Avila says, that directees should "subject [them-selves] to another person. [or] confide in. a person alone." The directee's confidence in the director's authority is based on his or her faith "in God, who will speak to you and strengthen you through another person."~3 Merton explains the original histor-ical reason for the authority that was accorded to spiritual direc-tors: He writes that historically the authority of spiritual directors was based on a recognition of their charism and that--when the first hermits went out into the desert, leaving behind established Christian communities--they exchanged the hierarchical guid-ance of their bishops for the guidance of the spiritually gifted.~4 An Alternative Perspective Obviously, some are comfortable investing the spiritual direc-tor with divine authority, while others are not. The question of authority is approached from different perspectives. Authority is seen as something negative by those who believe in egalitarian relationships and by those who are concerned about avoiding its abuse. Authority is seen as positive by those whose worldview is Review for Religious hierarchical and by those who are concerned about avoiding chaos and disorder. There are legitimate concerns on both sides ofithe authority question. I suggest that, when we look at the concerns that are dis-cussed under the ~bric of the spiritual director's authority, two fundamental questions can be found at the heart of this debate: (1) Does the director see and acknowledge the Holy Spirit as the authority for and source of his or her ministry? and (2) Does the director's ministry set the directee free to follow where God is truly leading? Ouestion One: Corcoran is a good example of an author who argues that Christ's Spirit is the Christian's one and only spiritual director. She points out that, while othe~ religious traditions have master-disciple relationships in which the disciple obeys the authority of an earthly master, Christianity does not have an equivalent relationship. Christ still lives. His Spirit is still pre sent with and within each of his followers and is still the one master of every Christian disciple. Christ's Spirit, says Corcoran, is still the Christian's only authority.Is Because Christ is the Christian's one true spiritual director, the only authority a human spiritual director can have is derivative. This insight is cru-cial to the debate over the spiritual director's authority. Whether spiritual directors claim to speak with God!s authority or claim to .be merely spiritual friends who point their directees toward God, it is crucial that directors acknowledge to themselves and to their directees as well that God and God alone is the central authority in their life and ministry. Question Two: St. John of the Cross, along with St. Teresa of Avila, stands at the head of the great Carmelite tradition of spir-itual direction, one which is not the most laissez-faire of traditions. Yet St. John is an outstanding example of those who champion the freedom of the individual directee. In The Living Flame of Love, John strongly advocates that each directee needs to be granted the freedom to follow God's Will. Those who are born of the Spirit, he says, are wildly free and need to know that God alone is their Lord and guide.~6 This second insight is crucial t6 Those who invest the spiritual .director with significant authority do so because they believe t hat God gifts and uses the director. ~dy-August 1997 Wigall * What Is a Spiritual Director's Authority the debate over the spiritual director's authority. No matter how spiritual directors understand or carry their authority, a more important question by far is whether and to what degree spiri-tual directors are able to set the individual directees free to follow the unique path along which God is leading each one. How spiritual directors envision their own authority is deter-mined to a large extent by the theological tradition and the cul-tural context within which they operate. One director may be comfortable claiming to be a spiritual abba or aroma or a spiri-tual elder; another may be more comfortable claiming to be a spiritual friend. Both sides of the authority question can benefit from realizing that the important issue at stake in this matter is not so much how spiritual directors conceptualize their authority; rather, it is how they answer the two questions raised in this arti-cle, both of which refer to the crucial underlying matter of the quality of the director-directee relationship. These two questions also directly relate to the issue of authority. However, they shed light on the practice of spiritual direction in a way that the'debate over the authority of spiritual directors has failed to do. I suggest that what underlies the concern for affirming the director's authority as God-given is the question of whether direc-tors acknowledge their dependence on God's Spirit. I suggest that the question of whether they protect and assure their directees' freedom is what underlies the concern for limiting the director's authority. Both of these questions represent concerns that relate to the director-directee relationship, and both are essential for spiritual directors to address. No matter how spiritual directors understand their authority, they need to deal with these two issues, They need to acknowledge openly their submission to God's authority. And they need to set their directees free to seek and follow Gdd. Notes 1 Peter Ball, Journey into Truth: Spiritual Direction in the Anglican Tradition (London: Mowbray, 1996), pp. 4-5. 2 William A. Barry and William J. Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (Minneapolis: Seabury Press, 1982), pp. 9-11. 3 Thomas H. Green, Opening to God (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 1977), p. 49. 4 Rose Marie Dbherty, "Doing Spiritual Direction in a Group," Praying 29 (March-April 1989): 6-7. Review for Religious s Sandra Marie Schneiders, Spiritual Direction (Chicago: National Sisters Vocation Conference, 1977): 19-20, 47-48. 6 Schneiders, "The Return to Spiritual Direction," Spiritual Life 18, no. 4 (Winter 1972): 275, and "The Contemporary Ministry of Spiritual Direction," Chicago Studies 15 (Spring 1976): 123. 7 Margaret Guenther, Holy Listening: The Art of Spiritual Direction (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Cowley Publications, 1992), p. 3. 8 Jan Bots and Piet Penning de Vries, "On Spiritual Direction," Review for Religious 40, no. 4 (July-August 1981): 496. 9 William McNarn~ara, "Psychology and the Christian Mystical Tradition," in Transpersonal. Psychologies, ed. Charles Tart (New York: Harper and Row, 1975), pp. 408, 425. ,0 Kallistos Ware, "The Spiritual Father in Orthodox Christianity," Cross Currents 24 (Summer-Fall 1974): 296. 11 Andr~ Louf, "Spiritual Fatherhood in the Literature of the Desert," in Abba: Guides to Wholeness and Holiness, East and West, ed. J. Sommerfeldt (Kalamazoo: Cistercian Publications, 1982), pp. 38-40. lz Donald Corcoran, "Spiritual Guide: Midwife of the Hig,her Spiritual Self," in Abba, ed.J. Sommerfeldt, 356-357. 13Jerome M. Neufelder and Mary C. Coelho, eds., Writings on Spiritual Direction (Minneapolis: Seabury Press, 1982), pp. 18-19. 14 Thomas Merton, Spiritual Direction and Meditation (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1960), pp. 3-4: is Donald Corcoran, "Spiritual Guidance: The Role of Spiritual Directors in Christian Spirituality," in Christian Spirituality, ed~ B. McGinn and J. Meyendorf (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1995), pp. 444, 448-451. 16 Joel Giallanza, "Spiritual Direction according to St. John of the Cross," in Spiritual Direction: Contemporary Readings, ed. Kevin G. Culligan (Locust Valley, New York: Living Flame Publishers, 1983), p. 202. July-Aug~tst 1997 SHAUN McCARTY Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction Cdonfidentiality is a critical consideration in a spiritual-irection relationship as well as a serious ethical impera-tive for the director.-This derives from the nature and history of spiritual direction, which deals with the most intimate levels of a person's life. The topic, theh, merits careful cqnsideration. I intend to e~xpl0re: (1) the nature of confidentiality; (2) why it is critical for the spiritual-direction relationship; (3) some legal considera-tions concerning its observance; (4) the relative merits of church regulation of this ministry to protect the confidentiality rights of the one :guiding and the one guided; and (5) an alternative to out-side regulation in dealing with the need for the exercise of a' responsible ministry of spiritual direction. Nature of Confidentiality "Confidentiality" has to do with keeping secrets. Something is "confidential" when a private matter is imparted in secret. "Confidence" carries the sense of firm belief in, reliance on, and assurance of another keeping trust. "Confiding," then, assumes a trusted "confidant." A "secret" is a hidden fact which may not be divulged, whether it be a fault or even something good that needs protection, for example, inventions or special recipes. There are three kinds of Shaun McCarty ST, currendy on a sabbatical, l~as been director of Trinity Ministries Center for several years. He writes from 1733 Metzerott Road; Adelphi, Maryland 20783. Review for Religious secrets: (1) A "natural" secret, in which the obligation to secrecy arises from the nature of the case, for example, deeply personal matters spoken of within close human fellowship or matters whose revelation would in some way injure or displease another (such as defamatory gossip). (2) A "promised" secret, which is to be kept, not by the nature of the case, but because of one's subsequent promise not to reveal the matter; the obligation arises from fidelity to one's declared word, but does not apply to useless or inane matters. (3) An "entrusted" secret, wherein the matter is revealed on the condition (whether explicit or implicit) that it will be kept secret. A special kind of entrusted secret is referred to as a "pro-fessional" secret; it obliges doctors, lawyers, the clergy, and some others by reason of their professions. This is the most binding secret of all. It is with this privileged category of professional secret that spiritual direction is concerned. Those bound to secrecy include not only the director, but all those'who may become privy to it, such as supervisors, consultants, and supervi-sory and peer-supervisory groups. The Necessity of Confidentiality Confidentiality is an imperative that arises from the need for discretion in matters where serious harm may come to self, oth-ers, or communities. People have a right to privacy. Confidentiality is a practical demonstration of reverence for the personal, inti-mate, and sacred values of another person. There is also a need on the part of both individuals and the public at large for a climate of freedom and trust wheri it comes tb seeking help that involves the revelation of confidential material. Vital to the effectiveness of guiding, helping, . and healing professions.are these elements of freedom and trust. Few events can be more destructive or preclusive of contin-ued help than the violation of trust and loss of such freedom of exchange. Not only is a violation of confidentiality destructive of the relationship with the person who divulges personal informa-tion, but it often can make the person betrayed wary of ever entrusting anyone else with similar confidences. It leaves deep wounds that are a long time healing. Some mention should also be made concerning the damage done to the integrity, reputa-tion, and future effectiveness of the one revealing the confidence. It can compromise that person's integrity and credibility for the ~dy-Aug~st 1997 McCart~ ¯ Con~dentiali~ Issues in S~iritual Direction future. The matter of confidentiality is of special concern in a ministry as sensitive as spiritual direction, for it is especially dependent upon the establishment and maintenance of that trust-ful silence so vital to open dialogue. In Catholic circles especially, spiritual direction has tradi-tionally been distinct from, yet closely akin to, sacramental con-fession and the confidentiality surrounding it. Spiritual direction is referred to as belonging within the "internal, nonsacramental forum"; sacramental confession, the "internal, sacramental forum." Exceptions With the exception of sacramental confession (and, as some would hold, spiritual direction), some secrets may be revealed under certain circumstances. A basic axiom in regard to most secrets is: The more important the secret, the greater the reason needed to reveal it. The obligation to secrecy ceases ordinarily when (1) there is permission from the one who owns and reveals it; (2) when it has already been disclosed by others; (3) when there is sufficient reason to avert a greater evil, that is, to avert a grave danger to the common good or serious harm either to a third party or to the person revealing it. It is permissible to discuss confidential material in consulta-tion with a prudent third party while at the ~ame time taking care to protect the anonymity of the person revealing it--unless that person objects. In regard to spiritual direction, such a likelihood should be discussed and agreed to when the initial working rela-tionship is negotiated. As with the revelation of secrets, it is,also unethical to probe into secrets unless for a serious reason and by using just means. The fields of investigative journalism and criminal investigation have in recent years brought public attention to the ethical ques-tions of both what may be investigated and what methods may be used. Some Legal Considerations In the United States there are civil and ecclesiastical laws both protecting and restricting confidentiality that may some-times be in conflict or simply inadequate.~ Review for Religious Traditionally, constitutional decisions of the Supreme Court have deferred to ecclesiastical law, not wishing to interfere with the free exercise of religion which is protected under the religion clause of the first amendment of the United States Constitution. As a consequence, not only has the confidentiality concerning sacramental confession by an ordained Catholic priest been respected, but likewise the legal right to keep priv-. ileged communications confidential has been afforded to clergy of other traditions. Though they vary from state to state, statutes con-cerning the "clergy" privilege are part of each state's rules of evidence. Under them the fundamental rule is that the public has a right to every person's evidence. Privileged communications are an exception and must meet certain restrictive requirements. While "minister" is usually interpreted in a strict sense, that is, one who is ordained in the church, the parameters of this clergy priv-ilege vary from state to state. In familiarizing oneself with particular statutes, there are some questions that need to be asked such as: Who qualifies as a member of the "clergy"? What types of communi-cation are covered? What do the statutes require in terms of the regulation of the ministry of spiritual direction by a given church, denomination, or community? What must be the expectation of the one making the communication? What must be the nature of the relationship between the 'spiritual director and the one mak-ing the communication? 2 There have been conflicting decisions in the courts concern-ing those not ordained who are consulted as spiritual directors and who have claimed clergy privilege. In a case arising in 1971 in New Jersey, a Catholic sister was cited for contempt for her refusal to testify in a murder trial of a former pupil for whom she had been spiritual director. She claimed the statutory privilege allowed by New Jersey law protecting the confidentiality of those authorized by her church as a minister of spiritual direction. Her plea was rejected because counsel was unable to find anything in Catholic doctrine or practice that would give her the right to claim privileged communication? More recently, in 1985, a sister in Missouri refused to make a deposition concerning a plaintiff because of a previous relationship as spiritual director and was granted the clergy privilege by way of extension,4 The more important the secret, the greater the reason needed to reveal it. 37zdy-August 1997 2VlcCarty * Confutentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction ~ As more recognition is given to nonordained people who are nevertheless exercising ministries such as spiritual direction, it might be hoped that clergy privilege would be extended further. Yet legislators and courts, understandably and for obvious reasons, favor restriction of privilege when it comes to withholding evi-dence. In recent years, even pre~;iously recognized clergy privilege has been abrogated in many states with reference to child abuse. ~ Ecclesiastical law in the Roman Catholic Code of Canon Law (1983) carefully protects the secrecy of material confided in sacra-mental confession (cc. 983-984),,but has little to say with direct reference to the nonsacramental ministry of spiritual direction, in which.a growing number of nonordained people have become involved. As previously noted, civil law will generally respect the provisions of ecclesiastical law. Given the absence of specific eccle-siastical recognition of spiritual direction in the ministries of the church, it is difficult to discuss the rights of the nonordained in reference to privileged communication. Both official recognition and outside regulation of spiritual direction are problematic. There are some who have advocated regulation of this min-istry by ecclesiastical law to protect people from civil- and crim-inal- law requirements.5 They suggest that special guidelines, standards, or even statutes be created by denominations and reli-gious communities to protect members from having to divulge confidential information obtained in spiritual direction. Such statutes would call for defining spiritual direction as ministry, establishing it as an office in the church requiring certain quali-fications, providing for the presentation or selection of candi-dates, and making a statement concerning confidentiality that includes specified exceptions. If this course of regulation is fol-lowed, it has been suggested that such statutes or policies be pro-posed on an interfaith basis. This takes into consideration that frequently the spiritual director and the directee do not belong to the same denomination. So as to protect the rights of the confidant, such regulations would provide for no waiver of confidentiality on the part of the one confiding.: The regulations would be clear and consistently implemented. It has been further proposed that they would also include confidential communications received in pastoral coun-seling. and other nonsacramental ministries in which information is communicated in an atmosphere of confidentiality. Such regu-lation has benefits and deficits that will be dealt with later. Review for Religious There has been some inclination for courts to recognize the right of~nonordained spiritual directors to withhold privileged communications. (Of all the states at the present time, Illinois seems to have legislation most consistent with ecclesiastical pro-visions, even though it limits the privilege to those accredited by the religious body.6) However, for now at least, it would seem that spiritual directors may not assume that th4y can successfully claim clergy privilege in a civil court.7 To Regulate or Not to Regulate? On the one hand, it would seem beneficial for churches and communities officially to recognize and to regulate ministries of spiritual direction. On the other hand, though laws protect, they also tend to con-trol and thus hinder freedom. Regulation would have the advantage of gaining church recognition of the min-istry of spiritual direction. This would seem to make it more likely that the civil authorities would recognize privileged communications made to the nonor-dained, thus providing more legal protec-tion for those involved. In addition to official recognition of a ministry, it would also, seemingly, render malpractice and other forms of litigation less likely in that regulation would require evi-dence of a person's competency to be a spiritual director, would make statements of policy, and would provide for sanctions. On the negative side, with regulation there wouldbe certain trade-offs. Regulations would bring tighter outside controls to what has traditionally been more of a free and charismatic ministry. Recognition of bona fide spiritual directors has.come to a large extent from local faith communities in which people gifted for the ministry have been recognized and sought out, and much less from the approval of some institution, often at a distance from the local scene. Every ministry need not be created into an office. Moreover, regulation raises the question of who determines qualifications, policies, sanctions, and the like. Would such reg-ulation not raise the further complication of limiting the choice of directors to denominations recognized by the regulating agency? I would wonder whether, with the growing number of Both official recognition and outside regulation of spiritual direction are problematic. L3-75-- j%dy-August 1997 McCarty * Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction malpractice suits, a regulating agency might be more liable for suits brought againsf an "approved" or "licensed" director. Such suits tend to go after the "deep pockets" of agencies having affin-ity with the individual. What Is the Alternative to Outside Regulation? Without a doubt, there is need for responsible stewardship in the exercise of any ministry and especially spiritual direction, which deals with the deepest and most delicate matters of a per-son's interior life. But, instead of regulation from the outside or from above, is it not,preferable for provisions and standards to come from within agencies preparing people for this ministry and professional societies supporting and challenging people in their practice of it? Laudable efforts at self-regulation by such groups as Spiritual Directors International, perhaps, have greater promise of balancing freedom with responsibility in exercising a respon-sible stewardship. Ethical and moral guidelines developed in this fashion are apt to call for even higher standards of professional-ism than would legal restrictions or an external regulating agency. Such guidelines would be concerned not just with confidentiality, but also with other important issues such as: (1) help in discern-ing whether one is genuinely called to exercise this ministry; (2) careful preparation and enrichment that would include pertinent understandings, processes, skills, and supervision; (3) encourage-ment: for ongoing education and formation in theological, scrip-tural, psychological, and other related disciplines; (4) maintenance of integrity in the role of spiritual director with regard to time, frequency, place of meetings, and so forth; (5) recognition of lim-its of competency in making or declining to make referrals; (6) avoidance of fostering emotional dependency; (7) ongoing assess-ment of each spiritual-direction relationship; (8) measures of accountability such as insisting that spiritual directors also receive spiritual direction and individual or pee~'-group supervision; and, most of all, (9) keeping, in the relationship, the focus on the per-son's God-relationship. Needed: A Poised Balance In this article we have explored the nature and necessity of Confidentiality in the ministry of spiritual ,direction and also some Revie~ for Religious legal considerations affecting its practice. We have considered some pros and cons of official recognition and outside regulation of this ministry. Hopefully, these considerations underscore the need for faithful stewardship in maintaining a poised balance between freedom and responsibility in the exercise of a ministry that calls for both sacred silence and public accountability. One who goes shopping for a product is cautioned: "Let the buyer beware!" Perhaps it is also wise advice for those seeking official recognition or outside regulation: "Let the seekers beware and proceed with caution!" We need open ears and closed mouths as we fulfill a sacred trust. Notes ' R.P. Stake, "Professionalism and Confidentiality in the Practice of Spiritual Direction," The Jurist 43 (1983): 214-232. z Stake, 227. 3 Stake, 228. 4 D.K. Iopollo et al., Confidentiality in the United States: A Legal and Canonical Study (Washington, D.C.: CLSA, 1988). s Stake, 231-232. 6 Iopollo, pp. 60-61. 7 Stake, 229. Wild Things Wild strawberries in the grass, tiny spots of red amid the green. One does not always understand how the wild things grow, rooted and strong though appearing fragile. So am L Lord, a wild thing, eager to grow anywhere, but there are times when the wind's so strong and it rains so hard and long that my weakness shows. Virginia Skrdlant SHCJ j%dy-August 1997 SEAN D. SAMMON Psychology: An Aid to Religious Formation psychology At the outset, let ug set the record straight: Psychology can be a help or a hindrance to formation for religious life. In the right hands it becomes a valuable tool for help-ing young people take up the life and mission of their congregation or institute. Its findings and principles can assist men and women religious in the middle years, too, and those of us facing the inevitable diminution that comes with age. Psychology, however, can also tyrannize us. In the wrong hands and incorrectly applied, it can lead to exces'- sire self-involvement and give rise to less than adequate preparation for today's demanding apostolic life~ With all that said, this admission must also be made: In some quarters of religious life, considerable suspicion continues to .exist about psychology and its practitioners. While in some instances good reason may support such wariness, in others it might very well be unfounded. This article will explore a possible place for psychol-ogy in initial and ongoing formation. There is nothing magical about the science of psychology. It is made up of many schools of thought, and its pr~actitioners engage in the same kind of debate as researchers in other human sciences do. Psychology is also a young science and, as Sehn D. Sammon FMS is vicar general of the Marist brothers. His address is Fratelli Maristi delle Scuole; C.P. 10250; 00144 Rorna, Italy. Review for Religious such, struggles still to find its place among those other sciences with longer and more established traditions. In spite of its many and varied approaches to the human per-son and its rather brief history, however, the findings of various schools of psychology--when correctly and appropriately applied--can assist formators in calling forth apostles for today. While formation is always the Lord's work, at the present time the~ fruit of the hard labor of some people in the mental-health field might be able to help us in a number of areas. Let us consider, for example, three specific and pressing ini-tial and ongoing formative challenges and examine how psychol-ogy may help: (1) educating for a healthy sense of our sexuality and life of celibate chastity, (2) preparing for the interpersonal chal-lenges found in today's ministry and community, and (3) deepen-ing our self-knowledge so as to ensure that some of our less than sterling motives~ do not interfere with the action that the Lord wishes to take through us. Before we address these issues, though, let us examine a few of psychology's tools and critique their pur-ported power. Psychology Is No "New Priesthood" Every profession has its rituals. Doctors, attorneys, teach-ers-- all have certain agreed-upon methods, principles, points of view. If, for example, you visit a doctor's office with a sore throat, a persistent cough, a headache, chills, and other aches and pains, you expect the physician to carry out a thorough examination and perhaps order some tests in order to diagnose correctly a head cold or pneumonia. Both conditions are treatable; the appropri-ate remedies, however, are different. Psychologists also have their rituals. Testing is one of them. Is there anything magical about the Rorschach test, the Thematic Apperception Test (TAT), the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory (MMPI), the Reitan battery, or other somewhat more culture-free instruments? Not really. Psychological testing will unearth little more than a perceptive person w0uld find out about another after a year or so of living together. Ask yourself this question: Do many months have i:o pass before you realize who is selfish, self-centered, generous, even-tempered, moody, very intel-ligent, and so forth, in any new community you join? What test-ing does is .give us this information more quickly. July-August 1997 Sammon ¯ Psychology Findings from testing can be of great help to any candidate for religious life and to his or her formators. IL for example, testing tells me that I am overly sensitive, opinionated, rigid, and stub-born-- well, then I have some grist for the mill of formative direc-tion. On the other hand, test results will also tell me about my strengths: my intellectual level, my ability to manage life's chal-lenges. Such findings are powerful allies in the work of forma-tion, for both the candidate and formator. Apostolic religious life has for years judged the admissibility of candidates by three general criteria: at least average intelli-gence, good judgment, and adequate physical health. A medical examination provides information about the last item; psycho-logical testing can help with the first two, To avoid pitfalls in testing, however, one should know, for example, how the test was normed. Obviously, an instrument that used a population of middle-income, midwestern United States citizens to establish its scoring criteria needs to be normed anew before being applied to candidates for religious life in Asia, Africa, Europe, and Latin America. Psychological examiners also need to be well acquainted with religious life and its values. How else will they be able to write a helpful report and provide feedback that encourages rather than hinders the process of formation? Before men and women in lead-ership or formation engage a psychologist to carry out the psy-chological assessment of a candidate or a member of the province, they need to be sure that the examiner understands and respects the values and commitments that are integral to religious life~ Formators also need to know the place of psychotherapy. This can be essential to growth for some members of a province or congregation, but psychotherapy cannot be the very mode of for-mation, even though a formator's accompaniment or direction may have therapeutic aspects. The psychotherapeutic relation-ship is different. It involves, for example, a different kind of per-sonal privacy for the client. If I am a psychologist in a therapeutic relationship with a client, I have no right to reveal anything disclosed to me in that relationship without the client's expressed and written permis-sion. The only exceptions to this rule are the laws in certain juris-dictions that mandate the reporting of some disclosed actual or anticipated criminal behavior such as child sexual abuse or homi-cide. The strict right to privacy that governs therapy allows clients Review for Religious to unburden themselves without fear of reprisal or judgment on the part of the therapist. That right must be protected. Formative direction or accompaniment is, in my opinion, dif-ferent. I prefer the word mentoring to describe this relationship. Mentors are like older brothers or sisters, persons close in age but with more experience. Mentors help younger people--and at times contemporaries and older folks--to identify the dreams in their life and to give those dreams a place in that life. Mentors are both parents and peers, and not exclu-sively one or the other. They offer example, challenge, acceptance, counsel, and at times friendship. The following distinction between a therapist and a mentor might help clarify their differing roles. Therapists, in general, do not disclose to clients information about their own personal lives. In contrast, an accompaniateur (a companionable guide) or person doing'formative direction might often enough use a per-sonal example to encourage the person being directed, to chal-lenge him or her or illustrate a point. Do accompaniateurs and those doing formative direction, then, need to be psychologists to be effective? Of course not. Do they need adequate and up-to-date information about human devel-opment and its principles? Absolutely. Most accompaniateurs can also benefit from having at hand a mental-health person to help with advice or to provide supervision when needed. To insist that every accompaniateur or person doing formative direction be a psychotherapist, however, misses this important reality: religious formation is a spiritual and not a psychological journey. Religious formation is a spiritual and not a psychological journey. Education for a Healthy Sense of Human Sexuality and Celibate Chastity Celibate chastity is in trouble today. When a colleague, friend, student, or family member asks us why we are living a life of celi-bate chastity, we respond quickly: For the sake of the kingdom, to love everyone and not just one person, to be more available. Then we pause and hope that there will be no more questions.~ The vast majority of us in religious life' have had inadequate education about human sexuality and celibate chastity. How many Sammon ¯ Psycholo~ of us, for example, recognize the important distinction between sexuality and genitality or realize that celibate chastity cannot be equated with asexuality?. Celibate chastity is a particular way of liv-ing out my sexuality. Today, more than before, psychology can provide us with realistic information about our human sexuality, information that will also help us to grow in our appreciation of our life of celibate chastity. God can be held responsible for passing out sexual energy. Just as we have spiritual energy, so also we have sexual energy. For what purpose? Our sexual energy draws us into relationships with other people and with our God. For some of us it might come as a surprise to learn that. the purpose of sexual and spiritual energy is the same: union with God and with others. Any adequate program of education for celibate chastity would do well to include information about the factors that advance or impede healthy psychosexual development. In addition, we could benefit today by some additional frank discussion about sexual orientation, masturbati~)n, intimacy in relationships (and the dif-ferent expectations of men and women in this latter area), and the spiritual foundation for celibate chaste living. During our religious formation many of us were warned about "particular friendships." Stop for a moment now and consider that phrase, Then ask yourself this question: Is there any other type of friendship than a particular friendship? I do not think so. Obviously, this preoccupation with particular friendships was often at the heart of past concerns about sexuality: a fear that . people might lose control of one very powerful part of their lives. We need to be quite clear about this important point: All of us must make decisions in life about our human sexuality. Married people, single and single-again people, celibate chaste people--no ¯ one escapes the process of decision making. For our peace of mind, the decisions we make need to be in keeping with our val- . ues and commitments. If I am a married man, for example, and I )want to remain faithful to my wife, I will have to set some limits in other important relationships in my life. If any of us believe that we do not, from time to time, have to make some difficult deci-sions about how we will channel our sexual energy, we are living in a dream world. Psychology can assist us in our education about .human sexu-ality. Furthermore, studies made of stages of growth in lives of celibate chastity2--~ith its fidelities and failures can help all of Review for Relig4ous us appreciate the wonder of this way of being a sexual person. Paradoxically, in the end psychology can help us understand that to be at home with our life of celibate chastity we must ultimately face what it means to be a spiritual person. Most of us are quite at ease when talking about the place of poverty and obedience in our lives. While we might not always agree on the day-to-day specifics involved in living out these vows, we can, without too much difficulty, discuss their place in our lives. Psychology and its current findings about human sex-uality might help us achieve the same ability to discuss celibate chastity. Interpersonal Challenge,s Found in Today's Ministry and Community Life Have you ever lived with a'chronic complainer? This simple test will help you decide if there is one in your life: When some-one comes to talk with you, does he or she generally sit down right away? You know the reason full well: they are going to be there for a long, long'time. The story of Jonah illustrates this: even God tired of such incessant whining! How about life with negativists--those people who, when faced with a new and hopeful idea, respond by saying "it won't work," "we tried it last year and it failed," and "those in charge around here are not intelligent enough to see to its implementation." Do stallers hold a prominent place in your life of ministry?- folks who ~iust could not make a decision even if your life and theirs depended on it. And what about men and women who with'- hold information unnecessarily so as to keep undue control of any situation? Realistic people do not expect their lives of ministry or in community to be altogether free of troublesome folks. There are, however, some individuals whose behavior can sap energy from us that would be better directed toward the work of the mission. Organizational psychology and some of its principles can teach us to cope with these difficult characters and their kissing cousins.3 With what outcome? So that all of us can get on better with the task at hand:'living together harmoniously and carrying out our mission in the church. Every community, too, passes through its own stages of growth.4 Some communities are healthy places in which to live, Jvdy-August 1997 Sammon * Psychology others less so. We have all participated in community meetings, for example, where the real meeting took place in small groups after the formal meeting had come to a close. Poor communica-tion skills, the lack of a vocabulary with which to discuss some difficult topics, a failure to learn ways to respectfully disagree with one another when necessary--all those factors can make life in community something other .than what it should be: a support to us in carrying out our mission. Psychology can help a community identify where it is in its own development and can suggest steps that can be taken to enhance its spiritual, ministerial, and interpersonal growth. Psychology can also help us develop the skills we need to live together more effectively and with genuine Christian charity. We all need a place to come home to. If our religious com-munities fail to be places where friendship is possible, human hnd spi~ritual support available, and the love that can exist between sisters, and brothers evident--well, then, who would freely choose to live this life? In many church ministries today, there are tensions. Sometimes it is tension between men and women. At times strife develops between priests and lay religious or between religious and their lay partners. Tension can spring up among members of any ministry team. If the level of tension in our ministry reaches a point where the mission is no longer being carried out effectively, the science of psychology can provide some specific help. More importantly, principles of psychology can. be used to nip in the bud any developing problem before it becomes something larger than life. 3-84 Self-kngwledge in the Service of the Mission Did you know that there is no such thing as a perfect family? There are good enough families--where 'the people and the place provide what we need for life, along with a push out the door so that life can expand--but, no, perfect families exist only in the imagination of some people. We take our families with us when we come into religious life. ~While its members may not be physically visible, they do participate in some way in every community meeting that we attend. Families shape and form us--for good or ill. We: also bring along to religious life what we learned about Review.for Religious ourselves while living in our family. In yours, for example, how was anger dealt with, was sexuality talked about openly, did disagree-ment give rise to alienation from the family at large? In some families, for example, members may stop talking to one another in the face of a disagreement or disappointment. In my family, for example, I realize in retrospect that expres-sions of anger were not encouraged. To signal that events were getting out of hand with me, my mother would often use the phrase "Sefin, be nice!" Though nowadays I pay less attention to it, still--when I am feeling angry, even at my present age--I hear her saying "Se~in, be nice!" Some of us suffer from low self-esteem. Simply put, we do not think we are worth very much. Low self-esteem is often the result of receiving information coming from my world through a series of faulty filters. Because of what we have been told about ourselves, some of us eventually come to believe that we are worthless or, at best, not worth very much. When people with low self-esteem make a mistake, for exam-ple, they suffer shame rather than embarrassment. Rather than learn from the error of their ways, they "beat themselves up" instead and insist that .they are bad people undeserving of any recognition or praise. We take our families with us when we come into religious life. Low Self-esteem a Threat to Effective Ministry Low self-esteem is a threat to effective ministry. Why? When our self-esteem is low, we begin to look to have our needs met by those we are called to serve. Eventually we need them more than they need us. When such a situation develops, we are no longer doing ministry. Rather, by our "serving" others we are promoting our own well-being, our own good feelings about ohrselve.s. Once again psychology can help us--towards enhanced self-esteem that is in the service of mission. Self-intimacy--a gift that often comes with mid-lifeS--helps us accept the particular and perhaps peculiar amalgam of bits and pieces that make up who we are. By mid-life we know full well that our motives for doing things in life are often mixed. Tha~: knowledge, in itself, helps keep us honest when it comes to ministry. Sammon ¯ PsycholoKv The Lord came for sinners and not the saved. At mid-life many of us feel more of a need to be redeemed than ever before. We have become distinctly aware of personal and social sin. But this self-understanding paradoxically enhances our self-esteem. This knowledge, in itself, helps keep us honest when it comes to ministry, helps us to carry out the Lord's mission free of illusion. Psychology and its principles can play an important role in this purification. Psychology Can Help In summary, then, psychology--used as one formative tool among many others--can be a friend to formators in religious congregations and institutes and an ally for mid-life and senior women and men religious in their ongoing formation. Today in particular it may help deepen our understanding about our com-mitment to celibate chastity, provide us with skills for greater effectiveness in ministry and a rich life in community, and help ~us grow in .greater self-awareness and self-acceptance in service of the mission of Jesus. If it does help a~complish these ends, that fact in itself will be a blessing beyond measure. Good psychology has more to do with self-transcendence than with self-fulfillment. It is not antithetical to the concept of sin, to admitting guilt, nor to penance and self-sacrifice. Rightly used, psychology leads to greater freedom of spirit and more effective ministry. Notes ~ Sefin D. Sammon, An Undivided Heart: Making Sense of Celibate Chastity (Staten Island, New York: Mba House, 1993). 2 A.W. Richard Sipe, A Secret World: Sexuality and the Search for CeJibacy (New York: Brunner/Mazel, Publishers, 1990). 3 Robert M. Bramson, Coping with Difficult People (Garden City, New York: Doubleday Anchor, 1981); Se~n D. Sammon, Don't Get Eaten for B~eakfast: Making Sense of the Impossible People in Your Life (forthcoming). 4 Rosine Hammett and Loughlan Sofield, Inside Christian Community (Jesuit Center for Human Development, 1981). s Se~n D. Sammon, Life afier Youth: Making Sen~se of One Man's~ourney through the Transition at Mid-life (Staten Island, New York: Alba House, 1997). Review for Religious ALEXANDER H. SMITH Mental-Health Consultation with Religious Orders Myental-health consultation has evolved over the past thirty ears in a specialty with a large body of literature on the process and technique, with diverse applications (Caplan and Caplan, 1993; R. Caplan, 1972; Altrocchi, 1972). Relatively few of these studies directly apply to religious orders, where their mem-bers have made lifelong commitments to membership and where the consultative process must be crafted to accommodate the unique features of religious life in a group setting. Mental-health consultation with a religious community requires a clarity of purpose at,times even more demanding than that in agency, school, or other ifistitutional setting. Within 'the community beats the heart of its spiritual tradition, one that pre-sumably drew its members, at least at a conscious level, to seek God and serve others. Beyond these oversimplified parameters, the climate of expected altruism and fraternal charity can paradoxically create the possibilities of boundary confusion, difficult limit set-ting, self-righteous entitlement, and exaggerated expectations of being understood and accommodated. Herein lie the often found tangle of inspired devotio0 and the all-too-easily-disillusioned psyche with its comple~es, hidden desires and aversions, power struggles, and longings. Not infrequently these very issues drive the community to seek assistance. Religious communities frequently experience a range of needs for outside help. The problems occur in group-level issues such Alexander H. Smith Jr., EdD, is a profession~il counseling psychologist. His address is 3150 Willis Avenue; Cincinnati, Ohio 45208. j~dy-August 1997 Smith * Mental-Health Consultation as conflict resolution, factioning, and decision making, They occur often to individuals as thorny personality conflicts and in groups as resistance to assimilating new tasks and letting go of old ones. Almost all communities have been faced with the problem of dwindling membership, including losses both of old timers and of new members who do not stay. Many communities are half the size they were thirty years ago, and few have found effective ways to integrate "then and now." Administrative talent varies across com-munities, and the management of the group according to its charism in this subculture of increased psYchological awareness is very challenging. Renewed individualism often stretches the best of minds to steer a course that supports the individual and the group as well. Most communities must cope with practical realities of day-to-day community life that become too hot to handle as a group. The community that approaches consultation in an informed way can realize more effective outcomes. The community's effort to make these course corrections with the consultant's assistance is best served when both the community and the consultant are familiar with what tO expect from each other. Such an informed recogni-tion of issues that are often unique to religious communities helps facilitate a more hopeful tone from inception to termination. The application~ of consultation to religious life appear to range from uninform~ed and sometimes naive "hacking" to highly competent psychological models that integrate diagnostic and intervention strategies from group process theory, models of con-sultation, knowledge of defense organization-in individuals and groups, and so on. This essay considers in very basic form these elements of effective consultation from the perspectives of both consultant and community in order to inform, to caution, and to encourage well-grounded principles and practices. What Type of Consultation Is Best for This Community? The consultant must help the community to select the appro-priate type of consultation. Caplan and Caplan (1993) have iden-tified four major ones: client-centered case consultation, consultee-centered case consultation, program-centered admin-istrative consultation, and consultee-centered administrative con-sultation. These me~hods differ in their targets of service delivery. Review for Religfous They were developed primarily for assisting other therapists work-ing with clinical populations, and they range across a spectrum of targets within a system from problems of an individual client to those of program development and organization. This model of reflective, "indirect" consultation differs substantially from that of organizational development where the focus is on team building, conflict resolution, and other modalities of more direct action methods (see Altrocchi). Two main types of consultation are probably most frequent for religious communities. These are consultation for individual cases where a mental-health issue has emerged, and administrative con-sultation where group-process difficulties need to be addressed. An adaptation of these principles to the :exigencies of life in religious communities is essential for both the consultant and for the com-munity. Usually there are crossing lines of communication, author-ity, and role functions, and the consultant must recognize that decision-making boundaries may be more fluid and that author-ity lines may vary from centralized to decentralized ones. More importantly, the nature of community life involves life commit-ments by its members to form and to maintain a group which supports its members' very livelihood. This reality requires that the consultant reconceptualize the consultation model as one which impacts not only service or "case management" in a work setting, but one which accommodates and supports the manifest structures .of a group whose very livelihood depends upon inter-personal competence and adherence to a task. The Alliance between the Consultant and the Community: Clarifying the Stated Purpose The initial phase of consultation includes the assessment of the community's tolerance for self-observation and for facing uncomfortable and at times painful issues. Some communities are more rigid than others. Some communities are more capable of examining attitudes, beliefs, and practices which interfere with accomplishing their stated aims. Some communities roll with the inevitable punches of difficult times and problematic personalities in a fairly relaxed way. Others struggle frequently, often appear-ing brittle and easily fragmented. The community's decision to seek consultation is rarely unan-imous; the events that lead up to the decision are themselves diag- ~dy-Aug'ust 1997 Smith ¯ Mental-Health Consultation The initial phase of consultation includes the assessment of the commumty s tolerance for self-observation and for facing uncomfortable and at times painful issues. ---.-390 nostic for the group and'for the consultant. The consultant who works with a religious order encounters a network of unique opportunities to assist individuals in a group. The consultant faces with the client community the same human foibles found in any organization. The! engagement with the community from its inception requires that the consultant maintain an integrity about the consultation. Often the initial request for consultation concerns unrecog-nized scapegoating. All group processes invariably include struggle with how to handle anger, disappoint-ment, and disavowed responsibility and therefore with the phenomenon of scapegoating. The process of scape-goating in religious life is surprisingly frequent. Historically it was often fos-silized in such matters as the status of lay brothers. A community's history with these major conflictual issues can be read ,off the contemporary problem foci, and the consultant can begin to read between the lines. For example, one community sought help about how to deal with a difficult member who was "conserva~ tive" and who would isolate himself from the rest of the communify, not participating in common prayer and work. The stated problem, of course, was to address the community's difficulty with its member. However, the com-munity had been chronically divided within itself about liturgical and dress practices. The community maintained the conflict for years by censuring any differentiation from the "new" majority norm. It had ironically created an authoritarian norm that resem-bled the very ones it prided itself for opposing in the larger cl~urch and had scapegoated "problem" members as they came through the ranks. The consultant initially should convey an acceptance of these problems as they are stated, while maintaining the accompanying desire to help the community in the most appropriate way possi-ble. The task here is to open the door to reasonable consideration of all the forces that define the problem as it appears to the com-munity and to be able to further negotiate the community's will- Review for Religious ingness to redefine it or "reframe" it in adaptive ways. In a way quite similar to (but by no means the same as) the initial stages of a psychotherapy, the consultant conveys a tolerance for the ambi-guity of the problem and seeks to draw the community into a more self-observing stance. Elaborating the Consultative Request The initial request usually stands as the consciously stated reason for help. Inevitably it includes a variety of unconsciously associated "agendas." The consultan~ recognizes these hidden forces that have coalesced to prompt the seeking of assistance and will respectfully inquire about them without attempting to inter-vene. They have a much longer life than the consciously stated one., The consultant for religious communities should maintain a particular ear for the historical context of these problem areas. Initially the community often challenges the consultant to do something impossible and then waits to see whether she or he is grandiose enough to try to tackle it. Questions like "Can you help us, deal with all the unspoken anger in this bunch?" need to be answered in a modest but respectfully humorous way: "Well. let me think a minute . . . what happened to the last guy who tried it?" After the ice is broken with the group's powerbrokers, the question can be restated in terms that can more easily be addressed, again hopefully with some humor: "Well . . . some-thing is getting in the way of people here being able to speak their piece., without getting sent ~to New Guinea . " The consultant takes these intangibles into account and for-mulates in clear language an agreement with the community about what consultation will be about, what it can and cannot accom-plish, when and how it will occur, when it will conclude, and what the sort of fee would be involved. The community should expect some response from the consultant that clearly formulates the current understanding of the problem.from perspectives of both community and consultant. Such a statement is usually best if it is,simple and colloquial and contains a potential for redefinition later on: You guys have really been struggling with this prob-lem about who lives with whom., and you're also saying you want to start closing out some parish work, that every-body is getting burned out., you really don't have to wait July-August 1997 Smitb * Mental-Healtb Consultation until the whole team is carried off the field before changing the game plan., let's see if it makes sense to meet a few times and see if there's some connection between these issues, how the community presently thinks about it and what would give the problem some fresh air . The initial phase is a get-acquainted one for both par-ties. The community needs time to size up the consultant and vice versa. The anxiety that accompanies a community's need for help can prompt it (and the consultant) into a pre-mature determination of type of consultation. The com-munity may be panicked about a growing tension between members or between subgroups and may demand quick results from the consultation. It is the height of folly for the consultant to rush in with psy-chological inventories or group-assessment devices. The religious in a community live there as well as work there. The consultant goes home. The context is different from industry, whei'e people at least have the escape of going home themselves in the evening. One community had be~n very reserved about seeking, con~ sultation. Careful assessment revealed that a previous consultant had come in for some "team building" and had required the com-munity to take a popular (but psychometrically compromised) test and then had proceeded to place the results on newsprint around the walls of the'community recreation room. No one would attend any further meetings; the community felt railroaded, overexposed, and very upset with the consultant. The consultant never stayed around long enough to get the feedback about how such cavalier interventions affected real people's lives. The community members' response to the proposed method is significant, for it often reflects attitudinal force and counterforce at work. For example, one community's s~uperior would not directly address the issue of the fee~ The consultant was told to contact the financial officer, an individual who was rather irrita-ble and demanding. The financial officer spoke to the consultant in a veiled condescending way, expressing dismay that the con-sultant even dare to charge a fee to a religious order. Such interactions in the initial phase reflect not only an anx-iety which the community cannot master, but also the manner by which it resolves it. Here the problem is manifested as anxiety about having adequate supplies and resources, whereas the uncon-scious fears seem to be around loss of control and authority. The community has designated someone who is rather difficult to con- Review for Religious trol the purse strings. The resolution is observed in the superior's being unable to address the financial issue directly and hiding behind the irritability of the financial officer. This kind of maneu-ver results in the superior coming across as a weak negotiator and never allowing the community to meet the financial issue head on. Some other forces are at work: the superior is set up as a "pup-pet" and the actual control resides in "old-timers" who are direct-ing the choice of leadership. The consultant's appearance on the scene is less than welcome, for they fear that the whole consultative process will undermine their "fiefdom." The community rarely lets the consultant in on the main difficulty all at once, especially in the beginning phase. The community has grappled with some issue for a long time; it has seen various personalities struggle with it with varying degrees of success. There have usually been fluctuations in leadership styles, in gov-ernance and decision-making processes, and in community responses to the changes. The texture of the com-munity's approach is often tied into its history and charism as well as to the current composition of

Daniel Deudney on Mixed Ontology, Planetary Geopolitics, and Republican Greenpeace



This is the second in a series of Talks dedicated to the technopolitics of International Relations, linked to the forthcoming double volume 'The Global Politics of Science and Technology' edited by Maximilian Mayer, Mariana Carpes, and Ruth Knoblich 






World politics increasingly abrasions with the limits of state-centric thinking, faced as the world is with a set of issues that affect not only us collectively as mankind, but also the planet itself. While much of IR theorizing seems to shirk such realizations, the work of Daniel Deudney has consistently engaged with the complex problems engendered by the entanglements of nuclear weapons, the planetary environment, space exploration, and the kind of political associations that might help us to grapple with our fragile condition as humanity-in-the world. In this elaborate Talk, Deudney—amongst others—lays out his understanding of the fundamental forces that drive both planetary political progress and problems; discusses the kind of ontological position needed to appreciate these problems; and argues for the merits of a republican greenpeace model to political organization.





Print version of this Talk (pdf)







What is, according to you, the biggest challenge / principal debate in current IR? What is your position or answer to this challenge / in this debate?



The study of politics is the study of human politics and the human situation has been—and is being—radically altered by changes in the human relationships with the natural and material worlds. In my view, this means IR and related intellectual disciplines should focus on better understanding the emergence of the 'global' and the 'planetary,' their implications for the overall human world and its innumerable sub-worlds, and their relations with the realization of basic human needs. The global and the planetary certainly don't comprise all of the human situation, but the fact that the human situation has become global and planetary touches every other facet of the human situation, sometimes in fundamental ways. The simple story is that the human world is now 'global and planetary' due to the explosive transformation over the last several centuries of science-based technology occurring within the geophysical and biophysical features of planet Earth. The natural Earth and its relationship with humans have been massively altered by the vast amplifications in dispersed human agency produced by the emergence and spread of machine-based civilization. The overall result of these changes has been the emergence of a global- and planetary-scale material and social reality that is in some ways similar, but in other important ways radically different, from earlier times. Practices and structures inherited from the pre-global human worlds have not adequately been adjusted to take the new human planetary situation into account and their persistence casts a long and partially dark shadow over the human prospect.



A global and planetary focus is also justified—urgently—by the fact that the overall human prospect on this planet, and the fate of much additional life on this planet, is increasingly dependent on the development and employment of new social arrangements for interacting with these novel configurations of material and natural possibilities and limits. Human agency is now situated, and is making vastly fateful choices—for better or worse—in a sprawling, vastly complex aggregation of human-machine-nature assemblies which is our world. The 'fate of the earth' now partly hinges on human choices, and helping to make sure these choices are appropriate ones should be the paramount objective of political scientific and theoretical efforts. However, no one discipline or approach is sufficient to grapple successfully with this topic. All disciplines are necessary. But there are good reasons to believe that 'IR' and related disciplines have a particularly important possible practical role to play. (I am also among those who prefer 'global studies' as a label for the enterprise of answering questions that cut across and significantly subsume both the 'international' and the 'domestic.')



My approach to grappling with this topic is situated—like the work of now vast numbers of other IR theorists and researchers of many disciplines—in the study of 'globalization.' The now widely held starting point for this intellectual effort is the realization that globalization has been the dominant pattern or phenomenon, the story of stories, over at least the last five centuries. Globalization has been occurring in military, ecological, cultural, and economic affairs. And I emphasize—like many, but not all, analysts of globalization—that the processes of globalization are essentially dependent on new machines, apparatuses, and technologies which humans have fabricated and deployed. Our world is global because of the astounding capabilities of machine civilization. This startling transformation of human choice by technological advance is centrally about politics because it is centrally about changes in power. Part of this power story has been about changes in the scope and forms of domination. Globalization has been, to state the point mildly, 'uneven,' marked by amplifications of violence and domination and predation on larger and wider scales. Another part of the story of the power transformation has been the creation of a world marked by high degrees of interdependence, interaction, speed, and complexity. These processes of globalization and the transformation of machine capabilities are not stopping or slowing down but are accelerating. Thus, I argue that 'bounding power'—the growth, at times by breathtaking leaps, of human capabilities to do things—is now a fundamental feature of the human world, and understanding its implications should, in my view, be a central activity for IR scholars.



In addressing the topic of machine civilization and its globalization on Earth, my thinking has been centered first around the developing of 'geopolitical' lines argument to construct a theory of 'planetary geopolitics'. 'Geopolitics' is the study of geography, ecology, technology, and the earth, and space and place, and their interaction with politics. The starting point for geopolitical analysis is accurate mapping. Not too many IR scholars think of themselves as doing 'geography' in any form. In part this results from of the unfortunate segregation of 'geography' into a separate academic discipline, very little of which is concerned with politics. Many also mistake the overall project of 'geopolitics' with the ideas, and egregious mistakes and political limitations, of many self-described 'geopoliticans' who are typically arch-realists, strong nationalists, and imperialists. Everyone pays general lip service to the importance of technology, but little interaction occurs between IR and 'technology studies' and most IR scholars are happy to treat such matters as 'technical' or non-political in character. Despite this general theoretical neglect, many geographic and technological factors routinely pop into arguments in political science and political theory, and play important roles in them.



Thinking about the global and planetary through the lens of a fuller geopolitics is appealing to me because it is the human relationship with the material world and the Earth that has been changed with the human world's globalization. Furthermore, much of the actual agendas of movements for peace, arms control, and sustainability are essentially about alternative ways of ordering the material world and our relations with it. Given this, I find an approach that thinks systematically about the relations between patterns of materiality and different political forms is particularly well-suited to provide insights of practical value for these efforts.



The other key focus of my research has been around extending a variety of broadly 'republican' political insights for a cluster of contemporary practical projects for peace, arms control, and environmental stewardship ('greenpeace'). Even more than 'geopolitics,' 'republicanism' is a term with too many associations and meanings. By republics I mean political associations based on popular sovereignty and marked by mutual limitations, that is, by 'bounding power'—the restraint of power, particularly violent power—in the interests of the people generally. Assuming that security from the application of violence to bodies is a primary (but not sole) task of political association, how do republican political arrangements achieve this end? I argue that the character and scope of power restraint arrangements that actually serve the fundamental security interests of its popular sovereign varies in significant ways in different material contexts.



Republicanism is first and foremost a domestic form, centered upon the successive spatial expansion of domestic-like realms, and the pursuit of a constant political project of maximally feasible ordered freedom in changed spatial and material circumstances. I find thinking about our global and planetary human situation from the perspective of republicanism appealing because the human global and planetary situation has traits—most notably high levels of interdependence, interaction, practical speed, and complexity—that make it resemble our historical experience of 'domestic' and 'municipal' realms. Thinking with a geopolitically grounded republicanism offers insights about global governance very different from the insights generated within the political conceptual universe of hierarchical, imperial, and state-centered political forms. Thus planetary geopolitics and republicanism offers a perspective on what it means to 'Think Globally and Act Locally.' If we think of, or rather recognize, the planet as our locality, and then act as if the Earth is our locality, then we are likely to end up doing various approximations of the best-practice republican forms that we have successfully developed in our historically smaller domestic localities.





How did you arrive at where you currently are in IR?



Like anybody else, the formative events in my intellectual development have been shaped by the thick particularities of time and place. 'The boy is the father of the man,' as it is said. The first and most direction-setting stage in the formation of my 'green peace' research interests was when I was in 'grade school,' roughly the years from age 6-13. During these years my family lived in an extraordinary place, St Simons Island, a largely undeveloped barrier island off the coast of southern Georgia. This was an extremely cool place to be a kid. It had extensive beaches, and marshes, as well as amazing trees of gargantuan proportions. My friends and I spent much time exploring, fishing, camping out, climbing trees, and building tree houses. Many of these nature-immersion activities were spontaneous, others were in Boy Scouts. This extraordinary natural environment and the attachments I formed to it, shaped my strong tendency to see the fates of humans and nature as inescapably intertwined. But the Boy Scouts also instilled me with a sense of 'virtue ethics'. A line from the Boy Scout Handbook captures this well: 'Take a walk around your neighborhood. Make a list of what is right and wrong about it. Make a plan to fix what is not right.' This is a demotic version of Weber's political 'ethic of responsibility.' This is very different from the ethics of self-realization and self-expression that have recently gained such ground in America and elsewhere. It is now very 'politically incorrect' to think favorably of the Boy Scouts, but I believe that if the Scouting experience was universally accessible, the world would be a much improved place.



My kid-in-nature life may sound very Tom Sawyer, but it was also very Tom Swift. My friends and I spent much of our waking time reading about the technological future, and imaginatively play-acting in future worlds. This imaginative world was richly fertilized by science fiction comic books, television shows, movies, and books. Me and my friends—juvenile technological futurists and techno-nerds in a decidedly anti-intellectual culture—were avid readers of Isaac Asimov, Arthur C. Clarke, Ray Bradbury, and Robert Heinlein, and each new issue of Analog was eagerly awaited. While we knew we were Americans, my friends and I had strong inclinations to think of ourselves most essentially as 'earthlings.' We fervently discussed extraterrestrial life and UFOs, and we eagerly awaited the day, soon to occur, we were sure, in which we made 'first contact.' We wanted to become, if not astronauts, then designers and builders of spaceships. We built tree houses, but we filled them with discarded electronics and they became starships. We rode bicycles, but we lugged about attaché cases filled with toy ray guns, transistor radios, firecrackers, and homemade incendiary devices. We built and fired off rockets, painstaking assembled plastic kit models of famous airplanes and ships, and then we would blow them apart with our explosives. The future belonged to technology, and we fancied ourselves its avant garde.



Yet the prospect of nuclear Armageddon seemed very real. We did 'duck and cover' drills at school, and sat for two terrifying weeks through the Cuban Missile Crisis. My friends and I had copies of the Atomic Energy Commission manuals on 'nuclear effects,' complete with a slide-rule like gadget that enabled us to calculate just what would happen if near-by military bases were obliterated by nuclear explosions. Few doubted that we were, in the words of a pop song, 'on the eve of destruction.' These years were also the dawning of 'the space age' in which humans were finally leaving the Earth and starting what promised to be an epic trek, utterly transformative in its effects, to the stars. My father worked for a number of these years for a large aerospace military-industrial firm, then working for NASA to build the very large rockets needed to launch men and machines to the moon and back. My friends and I debated fantastical topics, such as the pros and cons of emigrating to Mars, and how rapidly a crisis-driven exodus from the earth could be organized.



Two events that later occurred in the area where I spent my childhood served as culminating catalytic events for my greenpeace thinking. First, some years after my family moved away, the industrial facility to mix rocket fuel that had been built by the company my father worked for, and that he had helped put into operation, was struck by an extremely violent 'industrial accident,' which reduced, in one titanic flash, multi-story concrete and steel buildings filled with specialized heavy industrial machinery (and everyone in them) into a grey powdery gravel ash, no piece of which was larger than a fist. Second, during the late 1970s, the US Navy acquired a large tract of largely undeveloped marsh and land behind another barrier island (Cumberland), an area 10-15 miles from where I had lived, a place where I had camped, fished, and hunted deer. The Navy dredged and filled what was one of the most biologically fertile temperate zone estuaries on the planet. There they built the east coast base for the new fleet of Trident nuclear ballistic missile submarines, the single most potent violence machine ever built, thus turning what was for me the wildest part of my wild-encircled childhood home into one of the largest nuclear weapons complexes on earth. These events catalyzed for me the realization that there was a great struggle going on, for the Earth and for the future, and I knew firmly which side I was on.



My approach to thinking about problems was also strongly shaped by high school debate, where I learned the importance of 'looking at questions from both sides,' and from this stems my tendency to look at questions as debates between competing answers, and to focus on decisively engaging, defeating, and replacing the strongest and most influential opposing positions. As an undergraduate at Yale College, I started doing Political Theory. I am sure that I was a very vexing student in some ways, because (the debater again) I asked Marxist questions to my liberal and conservative professors, and liberal and conservative ones to my Marxist professors. Late in my sophomore year, I had my epiphany, my direction-defining moment, that my vocation would be an attempt to do the political theory of the global and the technological. Since then, the only decisions have been ones of priority and execution within this project.



Wanting to learn something about cutting-edge global and technological and issues, I next went to Washington D.C. for seven years. I worked on Capitol Hill for three and a half years as a policy aide, working on energy and conservation and renewable energy and nuclear power. I spent the other three and a half years as a Senior Researcher at the Worldwatch Institute, a small environmental and global issues think tank that was founded and headed by Lester Brown, a well-known and far-sighted globalist. I co-authored a book about renewable energy and transitions to global sustainability and wrote a study on space and space weapons. At the time I published Whole Earth Security: a Geopolitics of Peace (1983), in which my basic notions of planetary geopolitics and republicanism were first laid out. During these seven years in Washington, I also was a part-time student, earning a Master's degree in Science, Technology and Public Policy at George Washington University.



In all, these Washington experiences have been extremely valuable for my thinking. Many political scientists view public service as a low or corrupting activity, but this is, I think, very wrong-headed. The reason that the democratic world works as well as it does is because of the distributive social intelligence. But social intelligence is neither as distributed nor as intelligent as it needs to be to deal with many pressing problems. My experience as a Congressional aide taught me that most of the problems that confront my democracy are rooted in various limits and corruptions of the people. I have come to have little patience with those who say, for example, rising inequality is inherent in capital C capitalism, when the more proximate explanation is that the Reagan Republican Party was so successful in gutting the progressive tax system previously in place in the United States. Similarly, I see little value in claims, to take a very contemporary example, that 'the NSA is out of control' when this agency is doing more or less what the elected officials, responding to public pressures to provide 'national security' loudly demanded. In democracies, the people are ultimately responsible.



As I was immersed in the world of arms control and environmental activism I was impressed by the truth of Keynes's oft quoted line, about the great practical influence of the ideas of some long-dead 'academic scribbler.' This is true in varying degrees in every issue area, but in some much more than others. This reinforced my sense that great potential practical consequence of successfully innovating in the various conceptual frameworks that underpinned so many important activities. For nuclear weapons, it became clear to me that the problem was rooted in the statist and realist frames that people so automatically brought to a security question of this magnitude.



Despite the many appeals of a career in DC politics and policy, this was all for me an extended research field-trip, and so I left Washington to do a PhD—a move that mystified many of my NGO and activist friends, and seemed like utter folly to my political friends. At Princeton University, I concentrated on IR, Political Theory, and Military History and Politics, taking courses with Robert Gilpin, Richard Falk, Barry Posen, Sheldon Wolin and others. In my dissertation—entitled Global Orders: Geopolitical and Materialist Theories of the Global-Industrial Era, 1890-1945—I explored IR and related thinking about the impacts of the industrial revolution as a debate between different world order alternatives, and made arguments about the superiority of liberalist, internationalist, and globalist arguments—most notably from H.G. Wells and John Dewey—to the strong realist and imperialist ideas most commonly associated with the geopolitical writers of this period.



I also continued engaging in activist policy affiliated to the Program on Nuclear Policy Alternatives at the Center for Energy andEnvironmental Studies (CEES), which was then headed by Frank von Hippel, a physicist turned 'public interest scientist', and a towering figure in the global nuclear arms control movement. I was a Post Doc at CEES during the Gorbachev era and I went on several amazing and eye-opening trips to the Soviet Union. Continuing my space activism, I was able to organize workshops in Moscow and Washington on large-scale space cooperation, gathering together many of the key space players on both sides. While Princeton was fabulously stimulating intellectually, it was also a stressful pressure-cooker, and I maintained my sanity by making short trips, two of three weekends, over six years, to Manhattan, where I spent the days working in the main reading room of the New York Public Library and the nights partying and relaxing in a world completely detached from academic life.



When it comes to my intellectual development in terms of reading theory, the positive project I wanted to pursue was partially defined by approaches I came to reject. Perhaps most centrally, I came to reject an approach that was very intellectually powerful, even intoxicating, and which retains great sway over many, that of metaphysical politics. The politics of the metaphysicians played a central role in my coming to reject the politics of metaphysics. The fact that some metaphysical ideas and the some of the deep thinkers who advanced them, such as Heidegger, and many Marxists, were so intimately connected with really disastrous politics seemed a really damning fact for me, particularly given that these thinkers insisted so strongly on the link between their metaphysics and their politics. I was initially drawn to Nietzsche's writing (what twenty-year old isn't) but his model of the philosopher founder or law-giver—that is, of a spiritually gifted but alienated guy (and it always is a guy) with a particularly strong but frustrated 'will to power' going into the wilderness, having a deep spiritual revelation, and then returning to the mundane corrupt world with new 'tablets of value,' along with a plan to take over and run things right—seemed more comic than politically relevant, unless the prophet is armed, in which case it becomes a frightful menace. The concluding scene in Herman Hesse's Magister Ludi (sometimes translated as The Glass Bead Game) summarized by overall view of the 'high theory' project. After years of intense training by the greatest teachers the most spiritually and intellectually gifted youths finally graduate. To celebrate, they go to lake, dive in, and, having not learned how to swim, drown.



I was more attracted to Aristotle, Hume, Montesquieu, Dewey and other political theorists with less lofty and comprehensive views of what theory might accomplish; weary of actions; based on dogmatic or totalistic thinking; an eye to the messy and compromised world; with a political commitment to liberty and the interests of the many; a preference for peace over war; an aversion to despotism and empire; and an affinity for tolerance and plurality. I also liked some of those thinkers because of their emphasis on material contexts. Montesquieu seeks to analyze the interaction of material contexts and republican political forms; Madison and his contemporaries attempt to extend the spatial scope of republican political association by recombining in novel ways various earlier power restraint arrangements. I was tremendously influenced by Dewey, studying intensively his slender volume The Public and its Problems (1927)—which I think is the most important book in twentieth century political thought. By the 'public' Dewey means essentially a stakeholder group, and his main point is that the material transformations produced by the industrial revolution has created new publics, and that the political task is to conceptualize and realize forms of community and government appropriate to solving the problems that confront these new publics.



One can say my overall project became to apply and extend their concepts to the contemporary planetary situation. Concomitantly reading IR literature on nuclear weapons, I was struck by fact that the central role that material realities played in these arguments was very ad hoc, and that many of the leading arguments on nuclear politics were very unconvincing. It was clear that while Waltz (Theory Talk #40) had brilliantly developed some key ideas about anarchy made by Hobbes and Rousseau, he had also left something really important out. These sorts of deficiencies led me to develop the arguments contained in Bounding Power. I think it is highly unlikely that I would have had these doubts, or come to make the arguments I made without having worked in political theory and in policy.



I read many works that greatly influenced my thinking in this area, among them works by Lewis Mumford, Langdon Winner's Autonomous Technology, James Lovelock's Gaia, Charles Perrow's Normal Accidents (read a related article here, pdf), Jonathan Schell's Fate of the Earth and The Abolition, William Ophul's Ecology and the Politics of Scarcity... I was particularly stuck by a line in Buckminster Fuller's Operating Manual for Spaceship Earth (pdf), that we live in a 'spaceship' like closed highly interconnected system, but lack an 'operating manual' to guide intelligently our actions. It was also during this period that I read key works by H.G. Wells, most notably his book, Anticipations, and his essay The Idea of a League of Nations, both of which greatly influenced my thinking.



This aside, the greatest contribution to my thinking has come from conversations sustained over many years with some really extraordinary individuals. To mention those that I have been arguing with, and learning from, for at least ten years, there is John O'Looney, Wesley Warren, Bob Gooding-Williams, Alyn McAuly, Henry Nau, Richard Falk, Michael Doyle (Theory Talk #1), Richard Mathew, Paul Wapner, Bron Taylor, Ron Deibert, John Ikenberry, Bill Wohlforth, Frank von Hippel, Ethan Nadelmann, Fritz Kratochwil, Barry Buzan (Theory Talk #35), Ole Waever, John Agnew (Theory Talk #4), Barry Posen, Alex Wendt (Theory Talk #3), James der Derian, David Hendrickson, Nadivah Greenberg, Tim Luke, Campbell Craig, Bill Connolly, Steven David, Jane Bennett, Daniel Levine (TheoryTalk #58), and Jairus Grove. My only regret is that I have not spoken even more with them, and with the much larger number of people I have learned from on a less sustained basis along the way.

                                    



What would a student need to become a specialist in IR or understand the world in a global way?



I have thought a great deal about what sort of answers to this question can be generally valuable. For me, the most important insight is that success in intellectual life and academia is determined by more or less the same combination of factors that determines success more generally. This list is obvious: character, talent, perseverance and hard work, good judgment, good 'people skills,' and luck. Not everyone has a talent to do this kind of work, but the number of people who do have the talent to do this kind of work is much larger than the number of people who are successful in doing it. I think in academia as elsewhere, the people most likely to really succeed are those whose attitude toward the activity is vocational. A vocation is something one is called to do by an inner voice that one cannot resist. People with vocations never really work in one sense, because they are doing something that they would be doing even if they were not paid or required. Of course, in another sense people with vocations never stop working, being so consumed with their path that everything else matters very little. People with jobs and professions largely stop working when they when the lottery, but people with vocations are empowered to work more and better. When your vocation overlaps with your job, you should wake up and say 'wow, I cannot believe I am being paid to do this!' Rather obviously, the great danger in the life paths of people with vocations is imbalance and burn-out. To avoid these perils it is beneficial to sustain strong personal relationships, know when and how to 'take off' effectively, and sustain the ability to see things as an unfolding comedy and to laugh.



Academic life also involves living and working in a profession. Compared to the oppressions that so many thinkers and researchers have historically suffered from, contemporary professional academic life is a utopia. But academic life has several aspects unfortunate aspects, and coping successfully with them is vital. Academic life is full of 'odd balls' and the loose structure of universities and organization, combined with the tenure system, licenses an often florid display of dubious behavior. A fair number of academics have really primitive and incompetent social skills. Others are thin skinned-ego maniacs. Some are pompous hypocrites. Some are ruthlessly self-aggrandizing and underhanded. Some are relentless shirkers and free-riders. Also, academic life is, particularly relative to the costs of obtaining the years of education necessary to obtain it, not very well paid. Corruptions of clique, ideological factionalism, and nepotism occur. If not kept in proper perspective, and approached in appropriate ways, academic department life can become stupidly consuming of time, energy, and most dangerously, intellectual attention. The basic step for healthy departmental life is to approach it as a professional role.



The other big dimension of academic life is teaching. Teaching is one of the two 'deliverables' that academic organizations provide in return for the vast resources they consume. Shirking on teaching is a dereliction of responsibility, but also is the foregoing of a great opportunity. Teaching is actually one of the most assuredly consequential things academics do. The key to great teaching is, I think, very simple: inspire and convey enthusiasm. Once inspired, students learn. Once students take questions as their own, they become avid seekers of answers. Teachers of things political also have a responsibility to remain even-handed in what they teach, to make sure that they do not teach just or mainly their views, to make sure that the best and strongest versions of opposing sides are heard. Teaching seeks to produce informed and critically thinking students, not converts. Beyond the key roles of inspiration and even-handedness, the rest is the standard package of tasks relevant in any professional role: good preparation, good organization, hard work, and clarity of presentation.





Your main book, Bounding Power: Republican Security Theory from the Polis to the Global Village (2007), is a mix of intellectual history, political theory and IR theory, and is targeted largely at realism. How does a reading and interpretation of a large number of old books tell us something new about realism, and the contemporary global?



Bounding Power attempts to dispel some very large claims made by realists about their self-proclaimed 'tradition,' a lineage of thought in which they place many of the leading Western thinkers about political order, such as Thucydides, Machiavelli, Hobbes, Rousseau, and the 'global geopoliticans' from the years around the beginning of the twentieth century. In the book I argue that the actual main axis of western thinking about political order (and its absence) is largely the work of 'republican' thinkers from the small number of 'republics', and that many of the key ideas that realists call realist and liberals call liberal are actually fragments of a larger, more encompassing set of arguments that were primarily in the idioms of republicanism. This entails dispelling the widely held view that the liberal and proto-liberal republican thought and practice are marked by 'idealism'—and therefore both inferior in their grasp of the problem of security-from violence and valuable only when confined to the 'domestic.' I demonstrate that this line of republican security thinkers had a robust set of claims both about material contextual factors, about the 'geopolitics of freedom', and a fuller understanding of security-from-violence. The book shows how perhaps the most important insights of this earlier cluster of arguments has oddly been dropped by both realists (particularly neorealists) and liberal international theorists. And, finally, it is an attempt to provide an understanding that posits the project of exiting anarchy on a global scale as something essentially unprecedented, and as something that the best of our inherited theory leaves us unable to say much about.



The main argument is contained in my formulation of what I think are the actual the two main sets of issues of Western structural-materialist security theory, two problematiques formulated in republican and naturalist-materialist conceptual vocabularies. The first problematique concerns the relationship between material context, the scope of tolerable anarchy, and necessary-for-security government. The second problematic concerns the relative security-viability of two main different forms of government—hierarchical and republican.



This formulation of the first problematic concerning anarchy differs from the main line of contemporary Realist argument in that it poses the question as one about the spatial scope of tolerable anarchy. The primary variable in my reconstruction of the material-contextual component of these arguments is what I term violence interdependence (absent, weak, strong, and intense). The main substantive claim of Western structural-materialist security theory is that situations of anarchy combined with intense violence interdependence are incompatible with security and require substantive government. Situations of strong and weak violence interdependence constitute a tolerable (if at times 'nasty and brutish') second ('state-of-war') anarchy not requiring substantive government. Early formulations of 'state of nature' arguments, explicitly or implicitly hinge upon this material contextual variable, and the overall narrative structure of the development of republican security theory and practice has concerned natural geographic variations and technologically caused changes in the material context, and thus the scope of security tolerable/intolerable anarchy and needed substantive government. This argument was present in early realist versions of anarchy arguments, but has been dropped by neorealists. Conversely, contemporary liberal international theorists analyze interdependence, but have little to say about violence. The result is that the realists talk about violence and security, and the liberals talk about interdependence not relating to violence, producing the great lacuna of contemporary theory: analysis of violence interdependence.



The second main problematique, concerning the relative security viability of hierarchical and republican forms, has also largely been lost sight of, in large measure by the realist insistence that governments are by definition hierarchical, and the liberal avoidance of system structural theory in favor of process, ideational, and economic variables. (For neoliberals, cooperation is seen as (possibly) occurring in anarchy, without altering or replacing anarchy.) The main claim here is that republican and proto-liberal theorists have a more complete grasp of the security political problem than realists because of their realization that both the extremes of hierarchy and anarchy are incompatible with security. In order to register this lost component of structural theory I refer to republican forms at both the unit and the system-level as being characterized by an ordering principle which I refer to as negarchy. Such political arrangements are characterized by the simultaneous negation of both hierarchy and anarchy. The vocabulary of political structures should thus be conceived as a triad-triangle of anarchy, hierarchy, and negarchy, rather than a spectrum stretching from pure anarchy to pure hierarchy. Using this framework, Bounding Power traces various formulations of the key arguments of security republicans from the Greeks through the nuclear era as arguments about the simultaneous avoidance of hierarchy and anarchy on expanding spatial scales driven by variations and changes in the material context. If we recognize the main axis of our thinking in this way, we can stand on a view of our past that is remarkable in its potential relevance to thinking and dealing with the contemporary 'global village' like a human situation.





Nuclear weapons play a key role in the argument of Bounding Power about the present, as well as elsewhere in your work. But are nuclear weapons are still important as hey were during the Cold War to understand global politics?



Since their arrival on the world scene in the middle years of the twentieth century, there has been pretty much universal agreement that nuclear weapons are in some fundamental way 'revolutionary' in their implications for security-from-violence and world politics. The fact that the Cold War is over does not alter, and even stems from, this fact. Despite this wide agreement on the importance of nuclear weapons, theorists, policy makers, and popular arms control/disarmament movements have fundamental disagreements about which political forms are compatible with the avoidance of nuclear war. I have attempted to provide a somewhat new answer to this 'nuclear-political question', and to explain why strong forms of interstate arms control are necessary for security in the nuclear age. I argue that achieving the necessary levels of arms control entails somehow exiting interstate anarchy—not toward a world government as a world state, but toward a world order that is a type of compound republican union (marked by, to put it in terms of above discussion, a nearly completely negarchical structure).



This argument attempts to close what I term the 'arms control gap', the discrepancy between the value arms control is assigned by academic theorists of nuclear weapons and their importance in the actual provision of security in the nuclear era. During the Cold War, thinking among IR theorists about nuclear weapons tended to fall into three broad schools—war strategists, deterrence statists, and arms controllers. Where the first two only seem to differ about the amount of nuclear weapons necessary for states seeking security (the first think many, the second less), the third advocates that states do what they have very rarely done before the nuclear age, reciprocal restraints on arms.



But this Cold War triad of arguments is significantly incomplete as a list of the important schools of thought about the nuclear-political question. There are four additional schools, and a combination of their arguments constitutes, I argue, a superior answer to the nuclear-political question. First are the nuclear one worlders, a view that flourished during the late 1940s and early 1950s, and held that the simple answer to the nuclear political question is to establish a world government, as some sort of state. Second are the populist anti-nuclearists, who indict state apparatuses of acting contrary to the global public's security interests. Third are the deep arms controllers, such as Jonathan Schell, who argue that nuclear weapons need to be abolished. Fourth are the theorists of omniviolence, who theorize situations produced by the leakage of nuclear weapons into the hands of non-state actors who cannot be readily deterred from using nuclear weapons. What all of these schools have in common is that they open up the state and make arguments about how various forms of political freedom—and the institutions that make it possible—are at issue in answering the nuclear-political question.

                                                                                                                

Yet one key feature all seven schools share is that they all make arguments about how particular combinations and configurations of material realities provide the basis for thinking that their answer to the nuclear-political question is correct. Unfortunately, their understandings of how material factors shape, or should shape, actual political arrangements is very ad hoc. Yet the material factors—starting with sheer physical destructiveness—are so pivotal that they merit a more central role in theories of nuclear power. I think we need to have a model that allows us to grasp how variations in material contexts condition the functionality of 'modes of protection', that is, distinct and recurring security practices (and their attendant political structures).



For instance, one mode of protection—what I term the real-state mode of protection—attempts to achieve security through the concentration, mobilization, and employment of violence capability. This is the overall, universal, context-independent strategy of realists. Bringing into view material factors, I argue, shows that this mode of protection is functional not universally but specifically—and only—in material contexts that are marked by violence-poverty and slowness. This mode of protection is dysfunctional in nuclear material contexts marked by violence abundance and high violence velocities. In contrast, a republican federal mode of protection is a bundle of practices that aim for the demobilization and deceleration of violence capacity, and that the practices associated with this mode of protection are security functional in the nuclear material context.



What emerges from such an approach to ideas about the relation between nuclear power and security from violence is that the epistemological foundations for any of the major positions about nuclear weapons are actually much weaker than we should be comfortable with. People often say the two most important questions about the nuclear age are: what is the probability that nuclear weapons will be used? And then, what will happen when they are used? The sobering truth is that we really do not have good grounds for confidently answering either of those two questions. But every choice made about nuclear weapons depends on risk calculations that depend on how we answer these questions.





You have also written extensively on space, a topic that has not recently attracted much attention from many IR scholars. How does your thinking on this relate to your overall thinking about the global and planetary situation?

                                                                                                          

The first human steps into outer space during the middle years of the twentieth century have been among the most spectacular and potentially consequential events in the globalization of machine civilization on Earth. Over the course of what many call 'the space age,' thinking about space activities, space futures, and the consequences of space activities has been dominated by an elaborately developed body of 'space expansionist' thought that makes ambitious and captivating claims about both the feasibility and the desirability of human expansion into outer space. Such views of space permeate popular culture, and at times appear to be quite influential in actual space policy. Space expansionists hold that outer space is a limitless frontier and that humans should make concerted efforts to explore and colonize and extend their military activities into space. They claim the pursuit of their ambitious projects will have many positive, even transformative, effects upon the human situation on Earth, by escaping global closure, protecting the earth's habitability, preserving political plurality, and enhancing species survival. Claims about the Earth, its historical patterns and its contemporary problems, permeate space expansionist thinking.



While the feasibility, both technological and economic, of space expansionist projects has been extensively assessed, arguments for their desirability have not been accorded anything approaching a systematic assessment. In part, such arguments about the desirability of space expansion are difficult to assess because they incorporate claims that are very diverse in character, including claims about the Earth (past, present, and future), about the ways in which material contexts made up of space 'geography' and technologies produce or heavily favor particular political outcomes, and about basic worldview assumptions regarding nature, science, technology, and life.



By breaking these space expansionist arguments down into their parts, and systematically assessing their plausibility, a very different picture of the space prospect emerges. I think there are strong reasons to think that the consequences of the human pursuit of space expansion have been, and could be, very undesirable, even catastrophic. The actual militarization of that core space technology ('the rocket') and the construction of a planetary-scope 'delivery' and support system for nuclear war-fighting has been the most important consequence of actual space activities, but these developments have been curiously been left out of accounts of the space age and assessments of its impacts. Similarly, much of actually existing 'nuclear arms control' has centered on restraining and dismantling space weapons, not nuclear weapons. Thus the most consequential space activity—the acceleration of nuclear delivery capabilities—has been curiously rendered almost invisible in accounts of space and assessments of its impacts. This is an 'unknown known' of the 'space age'. Looking ahead, the creation of large orbital infrastructures will either presuppose or produce world government, potentially of a very hierarchical sort.  There are also good reasons to think that space colonies are more likely to be micro-totalitarian than free. And extensive human movement off the planet could in a variety of ways increase the vulnerability of life on Earth, and even jeopardize the survival of the human species.



Finally, I think much of space expansionist (and popular) thinking about space and the consequences of humans space activities has been marked by basic errors in practical geography. Most notably, there is the widespread failure to realize that the expansion of human activities into Earth's orbital space has enhanced global closure, because the effective distances in Earth's space make it very small. And because of the formidable natural barriers to human space activity, space is a planetary 'lid, not a 'frontier'. So one can say that the most important practical discovery of the 'space age' has been an improved understanding of the Earth. These lines of thinking, I find, would suggest the outlines of a more modest and Earth-centered space program, appropriate for the current Earth age. Overall, the fact that we can't readily expand into space is part of why we are in a new 'earth age' rather than a 'space age'.





You've argued against making the environment into a national security issue twenty years ago. Do the same now, considering that making the environment a bigger priority by making it into a national security issue might be the only way to prevent total environmental destruction?



When I started writing about the relationships between environment and security twenty years ago, not a great deal of work had been done on this topic. But several leading environmental thinkers were making the case that framing environmental issues as security issues, or what came to be called 'securitizing the environment', was not only a good strategy to get action on environmental problems, but also was useful analytically to think about these two domains. Unlike the subsequent criticisms of 'environmental security' made by Realists and scholars of conventional 'security studies', my criticism starts with the environmentalist premise that environmental deterioration is a paramount problem for contemporary humanity as a whole.



Those who want to 'securitize the environment' are attempting to do what William James a century ago proposed as a general strategy for social problem solving. Can we find, in James' language, 'a moral equivalent of war?' (Note the unfortunately acronym: MEOW). War and the threat of war, James observed, often lead to rapid and extensive mobilizations of effort. Can we somehow transfer these vast social energies to deal with other sets of problems? This is an enduring hope, particularly in the United States, where we have a 'war on drugs', a 'war on cancer', and a 'war on poverty'. But doing this for the environment, by 'securitizing the environment,' is unlikely to be very successful. And I fear that bringing 'security' orientations, institutions, and mindsets into environmental problem-solving will also bring in statist, nationalist, and militarist approaches. This will make environmental problem-solving more difficult, not easier, and have many baneful side-effects.



Another key point I think is important, is that the environment—and the various values and ends associated with habitat and the protection of habitat—are actually much more powerful and encompassing than those of security and violence. Instead of 'securitizing the environment' it is more promising is to 'environmentalize security'. Not many people think about the linkages between the environment and security-from-violence in this way, but I think there is a major case of it 'hiding in plain sight' in the trajectory of how the state-system and nuclear weapons have interacted.



When nuclear weapons were invented and first used in the 1940s, scientists were ignorant about many aspects of their effects. As scientists learned about these effects, and as this knowledge became public, many people started thinking and acting in different ways about nuclear choices. The fact that a ground burst of a nuclear weapon would produce substantial radioactive 'fall-out' was not appreciated until the first hydrogen bomb tests in the early 1950s. It was only then that scientists started to study what happened to radioactive materials dispersed widely in the environment. Evidence began to accumulate that some radioactive isotopes would be 'bio-focused', or concentrated by biological process. Public interest scientists began effectively publicizing this information, and mothers were alerted to the fact that their children's teeth were become radioactive. This new scientific knowledge about the environmental effects of nuclear explosions, and the public mobilizations it produced, played a key role in the first substantial nuclear arms control treaty, the Limited Test Ban Treaty of 1963, which banned nuclear weapons testing in the atmosphere, in the ocean, and in space. Thus, the old ways of providing security were circumscribed by new knowledge and new stakeholders of environmental health effects. The environment was not securitized, security was partially environmentalized.



Thus, while some accounts by arms control theorists emphasize the importance of 'social learning' in altering US-Soviet relations, an important part of this learning was not about the nature of social and political interactions, but about the environmental consequences of nuclear weapons. The learning that was most important in motivating so many actors (both within states and in mass publics) to seek changes in politics was 'natural learning,' or more specifically learning about the interaction of natural and technological systems.



An even more consequential case of the environmentalization of security occurred in the 1970's and 1980's. A key text here is Jonathan Schell's book, The Fate of the Earth. Schell's book, combining very high-quality journalism with first rate political theoretical reflections, lays out in measured terms the new discoveries of ecologists and atmospheric scientists about the broader planetary consequences of an extensive nuclear war. Not only would hundreds of millions of people be immediately killed and much of the planet's built infrastructure destroyed, but the planet earth's natural systems would be so altered that the extinction of complex life forms, among them homo sapiens, might result. The detonation of numerous nuclear weapons and the resultant burning of cities would probably dramatically alter the earth's atmosphere, depleting the ozone layer that protects life from lethal solar radiations, and filling the atmosphere with sufficient dust to cause a 'nuclear winter.' At stake in nuclear war, scientists had learned, was not just the fate of nations, but of the earth as a life support system. Conventional accounts of the nuclear age and of the end of the Cold War are loath to admit it, but it I believe it is clear that spreading awareness of these new natural-technological possibilities played a significant role in ending the Cold War and the central role that nuclear arms control occupies in the settlement of the Cold War. Again, traditional ways of achieving security-from-violence were altered by new knowledges about their environmental consequences—security practices and arrangements were partly environmentalized.



Even more radically, I think we can also turn this into a positive project. As I wrote two decades ago, environmental restoration would probably generate political externalities that would dampen tendencies towards violence. In other words, if we address the problem of the environment, then we will be drawn to do various things that will make various types of violent conflict less likely.





Your work is permeated by references to 'material factors'. This makes it different from branches of contemporary IR—like constructivism or postmodernism—which seem to be underpinned by a profound commitment to focus solely one side of the Cartesian divide. What is your take on the pervasiveness and implications of this 'social bias'?



Postmodernism and constructivism are really the most extreme manifestations of a broad trend over the last two centuries toward what I refer to as 'social-social science' and the decline—but hardly the end—of 'natural-social science'. Much of western thought prior to this turn was 'naturalist' and thus tended to downplay both human agency and ideas. At the beginning of the nineteenth century—partly because of the influence of German idealism, partly because of the great liberationist projects that promised to give better consequence to the activities and aspirations of the larger body of human populations (previously sunk in various forms of seemingly natural bondages), and partly because of the great expansion of human choice brought about by the science-based technologies of the Industrial Revolution—there was a widespread tendency to move towards 'social-social science,' the project of attempting to explain the human world solely by reference to the human world, to explain social outcomes with reference to social causes. While this was the dominant tendency, and a vastly productive one in many ways, it existed alongside and in interaction with what is really a modernized version of the earlier 'natural-social science.' Much of my work has sought to 'bring back in' and extend these 'natural-social' lines of argument—found in figures such as Dewey and H.G. Wells—into our thinking about the planetary situation.



In many parts of both European and American IR and related areas, Postmodern and constructivist theories have significantly contributed to IR theorists by enhancing our appreciation of ideas, language, and identities in politics. As a response to the limits and blindnesses of certain types of rationalist, structuralist, and functional theories, this renewed interest in the ideational is an important advance. Unfortunately, both postmodernism and constructivism have been marked by a strong tendency to go too far in their emphasis of the ideational. Postmodernism and constructivism have also helped make theorists much more conscious of the implicit—and often severely limiting—ontological assumptions that underlay, inform, and bound their investigations. This is also a major contribution to the study of world politics in all its aspects.



Unfortunately, this turn to ontology has also had intellectually limiting effects by going too far, in the search for a pure or nearly pure social ontology. With the growth in these two approaches, there has indeed been a decided decline in theorizing about the material. But elsewhere in the diverse world of theorizing about IR and the global, theorizing about the material never came anything close to disappearing or being eclipsed. For anyone thinking about the relationships between politics and nuclear weapons, space, and the environment, theorizing about the material has remained at the center, and it would be difficult to even conceive of how theorizing about the material could largely disappear. The recent 're-discovery of the material' associated with various self-styled 'new materialists' is a welcome, if belated, re-discovery for postmodernists and constructivists. For most of the rest of us, the material had never been largely dropped out.



A very visible example of the ways in which the decline in appropriate attention to the material, an excessive turn to the ideational, and the quest for a nearly pure social ontology, can lead theorizing astray is the core argument in Alexander Wendt's main book, Social Theory of International Politics, one of the widely recognized landmarks of constructivist IR theory. The first part of the book advances a very carefully wrought and sophisticated argument for a nearly pure ideational social ontology. The material is explicitly displaced into a residue or rump of unimportance. But then, to the reader's surprise, the material, in the form of 'common fate' produced by nuclear weapons, and climate change, reappears and is deployed to play a really crucial role in understanding contemporary change in world politics. 



My solution is to employ a mixed ontology. By this I mean that I think several ontologically incommensurate and very different realities are inescapable parts the human world. These 'unlikes' are inescapable parts of any argument, and must somehow be combined. There are a vast number of ways in which they can be combined, and on close examination, virtually all arguments in the social sciences are actually employing some version of a mixed ontology, however implicitly and under-acknowledged.



But not all combinations are equally useful in addressing all questions. In my version of mixed ontology—which I call 'practical naturalism'—human social agency is understood to be occurring 'between two natures': on the one hand the largely fixed nature of humans, and on the other the changing nature composed of the material world, a shifting amalgam of actual non-human material nature of geography and ecology, along with human artifacts and infrastructures. Within this frame, I posit as rooted in human biological nature, a set of 'natural needs,' most notably for security-from-violence and habitat services. Then I pose questions of functionality, by which I mean: which combinations of material practices, political structures, ideas and identities are needed to achieve these ends in different material contexts? Answering this question requires the formulation of various 'historical materialist' propositions, which in turn entails the systematic formulation of typologies and variation in both the practices, structures and ideas, and in material contexts. These arguments are not centered on explaining what has or what will happen. Instead they are practical in the sense that they are attempting to answer the question of 'what is to be done' given the fixed ends and given changing material contexts. I think this is what advocates of arms control and environmental sustainability are actually doing when they claim that one set of material practices and their attendant political structures, identities and ideas must be replaced with another if basic human needs are to going to continue to be meet in the contemporary planetary material situation created by the globalization of machine civilization on earth.

                                  

Since this set of arguments is framed within a mixed ontology, ideas and identities are a vital part of the research agenda. Much of the energy of postmodern and many varieties of critical theory have focused on 'deconstructing' various identities and ideas. This critical activity has produced and continues to produce many insights of theorizing about politics. But I think there is an un-tapped potential for theorists who are interested in ideas and identities, and who want their work to make a positive contribution to practical problem-solving in the contemporary planetary human situation in what might be termed a 'constructive constructivism'. This concerns a large practical theory agenda—and an urgent one at that, given the rapid increase in planetary problems—revolving around the task of figuring out which ideas and identities are appropriate for the planetary world, and in figuring out how they can be rapidly disseminated. Furthermore, thinking about how to achieve consciousness change of this sort is not something ancillary to the greenpeace project but vital to it. My thinking on how this should and might be done centers the construction of a new social narrative, centered not on humanity but on the earth.





Is it easy to plug your mixed ontology and interests beyond the narrow confines of IR or even the walls of the ivory tower into processes of collective knowledge proliferation in IR—a discipline increasingly characterized by compartimentalization and specialization?



The great plurality of approaches in IR today is indispensible and a welcome change. The professionalization of IR and the organization of intellectual life has some corruptions and pitfalls that are best avoided. The explosion of 'isms' and of different perspectives has been valuable and necessary in many ways, but it has also helped to foster and empower sectarian tendencies that confound the advance of knowledge. Some of the adherents of some sects and isms boast openly of establishing 'citation cartels' to favor themselves and their friends. Some theorists also have an unfortunate tendency to assume that because they have adopted a label that what they actually do is the actually the realization of the label. Thus we have 'realists' with limited grasp on realities, 'critical theorists' who repeat rather than criticize the views of other 'critical theorists,' and anti-neoliberals who are ruthless Ayn Rand-like self aggrandizers. The only way to fully address these tendencies is to talk to people you disagree with, and find and communicate with people in other disciplines.



Another consequence of this sectarianism is visible in the erosion of scholarly standards of citation. The system of academic incentives is configured to reward publication, and the publication of ideas that are new. This has a curiously perverse impact on the achievement of cumulativity. One seemingly easy and attractive path to saying something new is to say something old in new language, to say something said in another sect or field in the language of your sect or field, or easiest of all, simply ignore what other people have said if it is too much like what you are trying to say. George Santyana is wide quoted in saying that 'those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.' For academics it can unfortunately be said, 'those who can successfully forget what past academics said are free to say it again, and thus advance toward tenure.' When rampant sectarianism and decline in standards of citation is combined with a broader cultural tendency to valorize self-expression and authenticity, academic work can become an exercise in abstract self expressionism.



Confining one's intellectual life within one 'ism' or sect is sure to be self-limiting. Many of the most important and interesting questions arise between and across the sects and schools. Also, there are great opportunities in learning from people who do not fully share your assumptions and approaches. Seriously engaging the work and ideas of scholars in other sects can be very very valuable. Scholars in different sects and schools are also often really taking positions that are not so different as their labels would suggest. Perhaps because my research agenda fits uncomfortably within any of the established schools and isms, I have found particularly great value in seeking out and talking on a sustained basis with people with very different approaches.





My final question is about normativity and the way that normativity is perceived: In Europe and the United States, liberal Internationalism is increasingly considered as hollowed out, as a discursive cover for a tendency to attempt to control and regulate the world—or as an unguided idealistic missile. Doesn't adapting to a post-hegemonic world require dropping such ambitions?



American foreign policy has never been entirely liberal internationalist. Many other ideas and ideologies and approaches have often played important roles in shaping US foreign policy. But the United States, for a variety of reasons, has pursued liberal internationalist foreign policy agendas more extensively, and successfully, than any other major state in the modern state system, and the world, I think, has been made better off in very important ways by these efforts.



The net impact of the United States and of American grand strategy and particularly those parts of American brand strategy that have been more liberal internationalist in their character, has been enormously positive for the world. It has produced not a utopia by any means, but has brought about an era with more peace and security, prosperity, and freedom for more people than ever before in history.



Both American foreign policy and liberal internationalism have been subject to strong attacks from a variety of perspectives. Recently some have characterized liberal internationalism as a type of American imperialism, or as a cloak for US imperialism. Virtually every aspect of American foreign policy has been contested within the United States. Liberal internationalists have been strong enemies of imperialism and military adventurism, whether American or from other states. This started with the Whig's opposition to the War with Mexico and the Progressive's opposition to the Spanish-American War, and continued with liberal opposition to the War in Vietnam.



The claim that liberal internationalism leads to or supports American imperialism has also been recently voiced by many American realists, perhaps most notably John Mearsheimer (Theory Talk #49). He and others argue that liberal internationalism played a significant role in bringing about the War on Iraq waged by the W. Bush administration. This was indeed one of the great debacles of US foreign policy. But the War in Iraq was actually a war waged by American realists for reasons grounded in realist foreign policy thinking. It is true, as Mearsheimer emphasizes, that many academic realists criticized the Bush administration's plans and efforts in the invasion in Iraq. Some self-described American liberal internationalists in the policy world supported the war, but almost all academic American liberal internationalists were strongly opposed, and much of the public opposition to the war was on grounds related to liberal internationalist ideas.



It is patently inaccurate to say that main actors in the US government that instigated the War on Iraq were liberal internationalists. The main initiators of the war were Richard Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. Whatever can be said about those two individuals, they are not liberal internationalists. They initiated the war because they thought that the Saddam Hussein regime was a threat to American interests—basically related to oil. The Saddam regime was seen as a threat to American-centered regional hegemony in the Middle East, an order whose its paramount purpose has been the protection of oil, and the protection of the regional American allies that posses oil. Saddam Hussein was furthermore a demonstrated regional revisionist likely to seek nuclear weapons, which would greatly compromise American military abilities in the region. Everything else the Bush Administration's public propaganda machine said to justify the war was essentially window dressing for this agenda. Far from being motivated by a liberal internationalist agenda the key figures in the Bush Administration viewed the collateral damage to international institutions produced by the war as a further benefit, not a cost, of the war. It is particularly ironic that John Mearsheimer would be a critic of this war, which seems in many ways a 'text book' application of a central claim of his 'offensive realism,' that powerful states can be expected, in the pursuit of their security and interests, to seek to become and remain regional hegemons.



Of course, liberal internationalism, quite aside from dealing with these gross mischaracterizations propagated by realists, must also look to the future. The liberal internationalism that is needed for today and tomorrow is going to be in some ways different from the liberal internationalism of the twentieth century. This is a large topic that many people, but not enough, are thinking about. In a recent working paper for the Council on Foreign Relations, John Ikenberry and I have laid out some ways in which we think American liberal internationalism should proceed. The starting point is the recognition that the United States is not as 'exceptional' in its precocious liberal-democratic character, not as 'indispensible' for the protection of the balance of power or the advance of freedom, or as easily 'hegemonic' as it has been historically. But the world is now also much more democratic than ever before, with democracies old and new, north and south, former colonizers and former colonies, and in every civilizational flavor. The democracies also face an array of difficult domestic problems, are thickly enmeshed with one another in many ways, and have a vital role to play in solving global problems. We suggest that the next liberal internationalism in American foreign policy should focus on American learning from the successes of other democracies in solving problems, focus on 'leading by example of successful problem-solving' and less with 'carrots and sticks,' make sustained efforts to moderate the inequalities and externalities produced by de-regulated capitalism, devote more attention to building community among the democracies, and make sustained efforts to 'recast global bargains' and the distribution of authority in global institutions to better incorporate the interests of 'rising powers.'





Daniel Deudney is Associate Professor and Director of Undergraduate Studies in Political Science at Johns Hopkins University. He has published widely in political theory and international relations, on substantive issues such as nuclear weapons, the environment as a security issue, liberal and realist international relations theory, and geopolitics.





Related links



Deudney's Faculty Profile at Johns Hopkins
Read Deudney & Ikenberry's Democratic Internationalism: An American Grand Strategy for a Post-exceptionalist Era (Council on Foreign Relations Working Paper, 2012) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney et al's Global Shift: How the West Should Respond to the Rise of China (2011 Transatlantic Academy report) here (pdf) 
Read the introduction of Deudney's Bounding Power (2007) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's Bringing Nature Back In: Geopolitical Theory from the Greeks to the Global Era (1999 book chapter) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney & Ikenberry's Who Won the Cold War? (Foreign Policy, 1992) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's The Case Against Linking Environmental Degradation and National Security (Millennium, 1990) here (pdf) 
Read Deudney's Rivers of Energy: The Hydropower Potential (WorldWatch Institute Paper, 1981) here (pdf) 









Print version of this Talk (pdf)

The Mercury December, 1908 HEEP THOSE WHO HEEP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. 2**£™°I CAPS AND GOWNS TII Gettysburg College. Lafayette, Lchigh. Dickinson, State College, Univ. of Penn s> Ivani i. Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Wellesley, Bryn Mawr and the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods _»»■ Degrees. The College Man's Opportunity. We offer the Surest Means of finding your right place. Hundreds of good positions open in business, in teaching and in technical work. Offices in 12 cities. Write us to-day. TUB JYMTJOJVJZ, OB»^JVIZJlTIOJV Of BXAIJV BHOXBJtS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. BATES $2.00 PEB DAY. £iver-y Cttad-ied. Jotin P. M^tifl- Proprietor. DEALERS IN All kinds of Fresh and Smoked Meats Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. Hummelstown Brown Stone Company, QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. WalioTwille, 33a.-LiprT.-Ln. -&o., Pa,. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK. Telegrapn and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visit-ing quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R. R. R. For Artistic Photographs Go To TIPTOJV The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. PATRONISE OUR ADVERTISERS Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut —AT— Harry B. Sefton's BARBER SHOP. 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. SHOES REPAIRED -BY-Charles Hartdagen, Middle St., Opp. Court House, GUARANTEE ALL WORK. GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STOKE. Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. Vke only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. 2 * * » | Seligniqi] I * % 1 ^ B^etim | !t ** 2 Are Gettysburg's Most * * * aV * « v. « «» V* t- * * * * -3 Reliable TAILORS #»»**###*#**#*****»*** PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. i^l^^^^i^^^^^^i^i^^i^^r'i^M^l^.y^yi^-^i^^i^: as ;!. .1.1I ■>!•■ II IIfI Essentially the instruments for criti-cal and discriminating- buyers. Super-ior in every detail of construction and superb instruments for the production of a great Variety of musical effects and the finest shades of expression. Close Prices. Easy Terms. Old Instruments Exchanged. WEAVER ORGAN AND PIANO CO., MANUFACTURERS, YORK, PA , U S A. \&i^iAtt%zi&Zfc5%'i$te*&*&M$',?¥:&& s Headquarters —FOR-HATS, SHOES, A*TD GENT'S FURNISHING. Sole Agent lor WALK-OVER SHOE EGBERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right Itje Lutheran Mlieirtloji Society No 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Supt, THE KAERCURV The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College. VOL. XVI GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1908 No. 7 CONTENTS. A CHRISTMAS POEM 2 E. J. BOWMAN, '11. JUSTIFICATION OP THE BOYCOTT 3 E. E. SNTDER, '09. CONSTITUTION OP THE KEYSTONE DEBATING LEAGUE 7 IS THE GOVERNMENT COSTING US TOO MUCH?. 9 P. S. DENGLER, '09. OUR LITERARY SOCIETIES II.—PHRENA 11 WHY IS GETTYSBURG NOT WEALTHY? 13 ST. G. PHILLIPY, '09. THE JUNIOR "PROM" SOCIALLY CONSIDERED. .15 BIOGRAPHY OF SCHILLER 17 MISS BAUSCH, '11. CULTURE'S DISTRESSING FOE 20 G. E. WOLF, '09. THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE LINCOLN ROAD.22 G. L. KIEFFER, '09. THE "INDIAN STEPS." 23 E. C. STOUFFER, '11. THE INVESTIGATION OF THE FARMER; WHAT IS IT LIKELY TO BE WORTH? 25 MISS HELEN H. BRENNEMAN, '08. EDITORIALS 27 BOOK REVIEWS 29 EXCHANGES 30 THE MERCURY A CHRISTMAS POEM. E. J. BOWMAN, '11. .Behold the earth in solemn stillness lies! Again, his course traversed, the king of day Has sunk beneath the distant mountain tops. No longer glows in radiance the sky, But silent night enshrouds the wearied earth. No sound of man or beast comes forth to break The charm that over all has cast its spell. And far above from out the folds of heaven's Aetherial dome, the stars innumerable and Sublime are smiling on the earth below. All nature bows her head in reverence, thus- The God of Peace to laud and magnify. 'Twas such a night when from far Eastern lands, O'er mountains high, through valleys deep, Wise Men? Their way were tracing, guided by a star Outshining all the innumerable host That spangled all the heaven's majestic dome- When lo o'er Judah's city, Bethlehem, It stopped, and there, within a lowly hut, Behold, asleep within a manger lay The Holy One, the Buler of the Wise, By seers announced and prophets long before- 'Twas such a night when on the rolling hills O'erlooking David's City, Bethlehem, The humble shepherds, holy and devout, Their flocks were guarding from the hostile foe That roamed o'er hill and plain in quest of prey- When lo, the glory of the living God Around them shown, and, standing in their midst They saw the form of One divine in robe Of heavenly light, and in a tender voice The Messenger addressed the shepherds thus: "Fear not, I bring you tidings of great joy, THE MERCURY. To you, I bring them and to all mankind: In yonder Bethlehem is born this day A child, who is your Saviour and your Lord." Then while the shepherds filled with awe, o'er this Mysterious scene were meditating deep, Their gaze beheld a heavenly host in robes Of shining white around the Messenger Of love. Then forth upon the hallowed night The mellow strains of heavenly music broke, And there alone by God's own chosen few "Was heard the anthem of the Christmas-tide: "To God on high be glory evermore And upon earth goodwill and peace to men." JUSTIFICATION OF THE BOYCOTT. E. E. SNYDER, '09. JHE justification of the boycott is by no means an easy task. Its practice and its underlying principle have always been questioned and in view of the advanced and radical ground taken by both its advocates and its opponents, a careful study of the boycott, its history, its develop-ment, its modern forms, and its ultimate object, is necessary to enable us to pass judgment upon it, either favorable or unfavor-able. The term originated in 1880 when Captain Boycott, an Eng-lishman, who was the agent of Lord Barne in the Connemara district of Ireland, became so obnoxious because of his harsh treatment of the tenants, that they retaliated by inducing the people for miles around to have nothing whatever to do with him. They would neither speak to him, work for him; buy from him, sell to him, or in any way connect themselves with him. More than this they resorted to violence and even blood-shed, to prevent others from doing so. But this was not the ori-gin of the practice although it gave rise to the term. The prac- 4 THE MERCURY. tice extends almost as far back as history itself. In 1327 the citizens of Canterbury, England, boycotted the monks of Christ's Church. They refused to inhabit the houses of the prior, and passed an ordinance that no one should buy, sell, or exchange drink or victuals with the monastery. A severe punishment was provided against the disobedience of the order. The first use of the boycott in America was during the period just preceding the Eevolution, when the colonists boycotted several articles of British make. This culminated in the Boston Tea Part}', which was advocated and supported by our best and most patriotic citizens. Thus the advocates of the boycott claim that it was born in the cradle of American liberty. It was a great weapon, used by the Abolutionists against slavery, and it has often been used by ministers and others prominent in the social world against intemperance, immorality and other social evils. It has been used by the Manufacturer's Association against the work-ingmen, but here it is known as the "black list," and in this form it has ruined thousands of poor laborers. It has also been used by the laborers, in retaliation against the capitalists and it is this use which represents what we today recognize as the boy-cott. Thus from its history we might define boycott in its original usage, as meaning a combination of many to cause loss to one person by refusing to have any relations with him and by influ-encing and coercing others to treat him in like manner. In re-taliation for some wrong either real or imaginary, they withdraw from the victim all beneficial intercourse and even resort to force, in order to persuade others to do likewise. Today the term boy-cott means a combination of many usually organized working-men against an individual or a combination, through which they seek by withdrawing their support and services to secure redress for some infringement upon their rights. It,is this use that we would attempt to justify. The boycott, as has been mentioned, is but another name for the "black list," although it is usually practiced with a nobler end in view. The boycott usually seeks redress for wrongs, while the "black list" disregards the justice of its object and seeks only additional advantages by this coercive means. Yet the capital-ists raise a great cry of injustice when the boycott appears,, and shall be defined by the college that submits the question. THE MERCURY. lose no time in making their appeal to the courts for injunction and protection, although they are daily and yearly practicing the same principle against the laborer who can seek justice through no other means. But in this case it is the poor man's ox, that is gored instead of the rich man's, and if he would resist or seek redress, he is pointed out as dangerously affected by socialistic principles, and often suffers for trying to maintain a right guar-anteed to all by our Constitution. In practice, also, the boycott has changed, and few of the ob-noxious and injurious characteristics of the ancient boycott re-main. The boycott, as practiced at present, as has been stated, is simply the ostracism of an individual or organization, by an organization in order to secure, what they believe to be their rights. It may result in great pecuniary loss to the victim and because of this fact has often been restrained by injunction, but ■no violence attaches to it; no personal harm or injury, and in many cases individual bitterness has been eliminated. No force or coercion is used outside the obligations of membership in the contending organization, although, this fact is often changed, .and it is true that many organizations do take up the fight in sympathy. It is, when rightly used, but an effective weapon in the hands of the laborer by the use of which he is able to secure consideration and justice, when other means have failed, and as such its use is justifiable. From the laborer's standpoint its use possesses considerable economic importance, for it is only by its use, through the me-dium of his organization that he can battle, with any degree of success against the oftimes higher intelligence and more perfect organization of his employers, the capitalists. In this age, the tendency of each class, seems to be to gain wealth regardless of the loss, they may occasion. To the laborers, the boycott, is one of the few barriers that stand between him and a lower standard of living, which would be the inevitable result, were these barriers removed. Our eco-nomic welfare depends upon progress in every class. If the laborer is to share this progress he must advance and not recede. He must raise his standard of living, his culture and his edu- •cation instead of lowering them. To do this he must be in con-tinual conflict with the capitalist, who is his superior in educa- THE MERCURY. tion, and had an additional advantage because of his capital. The boycott has proved to be one of the few things which the •capitalists have not been able to overcome, and as its use enables the laborers to maintain his ground in the conflict for advance-ment, it is certainly justifiable. The boycott can also be regarded, as simply the practice of the right guaranteed to each citizen by our government, to say, write, or publish, anything he wishes, on his own responsibility. This is what the laborer claims for the boycott. He certainly has the right to govern his own words and dealings and to use his influence with others so long as he advocates a just cause and uses no coercive measures to secure adherents. This represents the workingman's idea of the boycott, and while it must be ad-mitted that it is here pictured in its most favorable form, and •that it is seldom practiced within the prescribed limits, yet the argument is founded upon a basis of justice and many decisions of higher courts have recognized this fact. As a last claim, we would advance the boycott, as the only ef-fective weapon against the "black list." No man has a right to work permanent ruin to another because of individual difference of opinion nor has an organization a similar right, and since the employer often uses this means against the employee, the laborer has a right to defend himself by the boycott. It is a hard and bitter solution to the problem. It is the Old Testament dispen-sation, "An eye for an eye." but when we consider that the con- 'ditions, from an ethical standpoint are far from normal, we must be satisfied if they do require abnormal means. Thus would we justify the boycott, from an economical view-point, but when we turn on our question the light of an ethical culture, we find it again questionable and we are compelled to ask ourselves the question, "Is there in the business activity of today, as represented by the masses on both sides, a point where ;an individual can retain pure ethical ideals and secure true eco-nomic good?" Perhaps in the masses there is not, but it is pleasing to note that here and there in the great business hustle of our age, we see sturdy advocates of a higher principle emerg-ing from the ranks of both contestants and when these shall have gained a majority the justification of the boycott will be impos-sible, but not until then. THE MERCURY. 7 CONSTITUTION OF THE KEYSTONE DEBATING LEAGUE. ARTICLE I. NAME AND MEMBERSHIP. This organization shall be known as the Keystone Inter-Colle-giate Debating League and shall have the following members: Bueknell, Lafayette and Gettysburg Colleges. ARTICLE II. PURPOSE. The purpose of this organization shall be to increase interest in debating in each of the colleges represented and to encourage inter-collegiate debating. ARTICLE III. ORGANIZATION. The executive committee shall consist of one undergraduate from each college represented and shall meet annually at the time and place of the final debate to transact all business of the League. ARTICLE IV. CONTESTANTS. Each college shall send to the contest in which it participates three representatives. Contestants shall be regularly enrolled students in the collegiate department taking at least ten hours of recitation or lecture work per week. The names of the de-baters and alternate shall be submitted to the opposing team at least ten days before the debate. No college shall protest the-eligibility of a debater later than five days before the debate. ARTICLE V. SELECTION OF QUESTION. The question for debate shall be submitted not later than six weeks and returned not later than five weeks before the debate is to be held. The college that receives the question shall select sides. No college shall submit the question to the other college twice in succession. Terms in the question, if not understood. THE MERCURY. ARTICLE VI. JUDGES. The college at which the debate is held shall submit to the visiting team at least four weeks before the debate the names of prospective judges. The visiting team may strike from the list any of "the names and shall return the remainder within one week designating the order of preference. No personal friend of any contestant and no one having had student of official relations with either of the colleges involved, shall be eligible for appoint-ment as judges. At the close of the contest, without conference-with his associates, each of the three judges, deciding for him-self, shall give his vote duly signed and sealed to the presiding officer who shall announce the decision. The judges shall base their decision on argument and composition and delivery; argu-ment to count sixty per cent., composition and delivery forty per cent. ARTICLE VII. CONTEST. The college at which the debate is held shall select the presid-ing officer. Each debater shall have fifteen minutes; ten min-utes for his opening speech and five minutes for rebuttal. The first speech in rebuttal shall be made by the negative, and the-affirmative shall close the debate. The order of speakers in re-buttal shall be left to the discretion of the respective teams. No> new material shall be introduced in rebuttal speeches. ARTICLE VIII. EXPENSES. At the annual meeting of the Executive Committee, each col-lege shall present an itemized statement of its expenses necessary for the year. This expense shall be born equally by the colleges-of the League. TIIE MERCURY. IS THE GOVERNMENT COSTING US TOO MUCH. F. S. DEX3LER, '09. F wo except the most active period of the Civil War, the total drafts upon the Treasury of the U. S. during the past Congresshavebeengreater than at any period in our history. The total appropriations made by Congress dur-ing the Civil War were $1,309,000,000 of which $1,030,000,000 was spent upon the army. The appropriations for the fiscal year 1909 reached a total of $1,007,000,000. In these days, when private fortunes sometimes run up to a hundred million dollars we are liable not to realize how large a sum a billion dol-lars really is. It would take an expert counter, working eight hours a day, over one hundred years to count a billion silver ■dollars. A billion dollars in twenty dollar bills would make a pile 13,750 feet high. What is all this money used for? The expenditures may be classed under three general heads: Postal Service, $225,000,000. Military Service, $500,000,000. Other Government Service, $225,000,000. The largest appropriation for a single department was that for the post office. The postal service is one of the greatest utilities which the government gives to the people and one which the peo-ple can appreciate every day. The post offices scattered all over the land turn into the postal department a large revenue each year but it is not sufficient to run the service. The quarter of a billion dollars is disbursed through many channels. The sal-aries of postmasters, clerks, carriers and messengers total in the millions. The railroads come in for a large amount for carrying the mail. The rural delivery was established in recent years at a cost of about $25,000,000. A bill was proposed at the last Congress to establish a rural parcels post, but it was not passed. The most significant feature of the appropriations during the year is the great amount of attention that has been given to the building up of the military branch of the government. The ex-penditures for the army and navy, if we leave out of account the years when the country was engaged in war, have been the larg-est in the history of the country. The army was granted $95,- 10 THE MERCURY. 000,000; the navy, $123,000,000; the amount $163,000,000 for pensions should be included. The remainder of the half billion dollars is spent for fortifications, military and naval academies, soldiers' homes, arsenals, armories,'navy yards and numerous other things of a similar nature. The total expenditures for military purposes, direct or indirect, is truly a colossal sum when we bear in mind that our standing army today is not over 70,000. The sending of our fleet around the world is an event in history—an event which cannot fail to have a good influence. While we may be a peaceful nation, it will show that we have strength enough to protect ourselves in time of trouble. Some people think that our navy is too large. They say that our ships have nothing to do and then they get into trouble as in the cap-turing of the Philippine Islands. The remaining quarter of a billion dollars goes for a great number of things. The Agricultural Department, the Diplo-matic and Consular service, the Indian Bill, the different bu-reaus and public works are all included. We have seen where the money goes. Now, where does it come from? The revenues of the government amount to about $800,000,000 and this will leave a deficit of about $200,000,000. The treasury has a surplus of $250,000,000 to meet this. If this is not sufficient bonds can be sold. The Speaker of the House and the House itself keep restrain-ing hands on the extravagant tendencies of the varioifs commit-tees. The tendency of Congress to spend money is increasing at an appalling rate. The money appropriated by last Congress would have run the government during the decade ending 1896. These periods are both far enough removed from the Spanish War not to be materially affected by it. The world has advanced and moved forward since 1896, but not to such an extent as to warrant the rate of increase of running the government. There seems to be a leakage somewhere. Congress should remember that even a million dollars does not flow into the treasury of its own accord but it is pushed in and that as a result of the sweat of many brows. This does not mean that a narrow-minded policy should be adopted. The American people are willing to pay well to keep their country in the front ranks of the army of THE MEKCUEY. 11 progress. The last Congress has made a record in appropriating, public money and it is up to Congress to make a record in the-spending of it. OUR LITERARY SOCIETIES II—PHRENA. N the account of Philo which was published last month we find much that is very similar to the history of" Phrena The Phrenakosmian Literary Society was founded Feb. 4th, 1831, in Linwood Hall. At the second regular meet-ing a constitution and by-laws were presented and adopted. We are fortunate in having the original copy in an excellent state of preservation. Although frequently modified and amended, this historic document retains its original and noble spirit. The whole aim of its authors and zealous defenders is admirably ex-pressed by this, the motto of the Society: Kocr/m T/iv peva. There also exists the minutes of all the meetings that have been held since the Society was organized. These also have been well cared for and may be found among the treasures of the li-brary. As for Phrena's library, it can be said that it contains 5,845 volumes, which are the results of the energetic exertions of our members. Various catalogues of these books have been made for the use of our members, but most of them are not suitable for reference work. The Society is now indebted to George Heintz. '09 for a complete card index of the library. This not only en-hances the value of the present, collection of books but insures to us the proper recognition, care, and usefulness of any works we may add. Other property of value has accrued to the Society. In 1837r when Phrena was given a large and convenient room in the new college building (Old Dorm.), efforts were immediately made to secure suitable furniture. Here again the characteristic as-siduity of Phrena's members was triumphant. Improvements have been made from year to year, and the present beautiful ap-pearance of our hall furnishes sufficient evidence of the energy 12 THE MERCURY. as well as the taste of those by whom it was accomplished. The-present apartment in Eecitation Hall is elegantly furnished. Busts of Franklin, Webster, Cicero and Demosthenes have appro-priate places on the walls. The walls are also decorated with portraits of those Phrenakosmians who have done honor to their Alma Mater by becoming capable to hold professorships in our college. The Society has helped men individually, and has contributed much to the health of college spirit. A literary contest in which much spirit is shown, is held each year, with our sister society, Philo. Formerly it was the custom of the two societies to join at commencement time and be addressed by an honorary mem-ber of each society, alternately. In earlier years, of those be-longing to Phrena, and Eev. E. J. Breckenridge, D.D. officiated in 1842, Eev. T. H. Stockton, D.D. in 1844, and Eev. George B. Cheener, D.D. Much time and labor could be spent in arranging the inter-esting events of Phrena's history, but the space on these pages-does not permit the presentation in detail of very much con-tained in the Society's records. Suffice it to say, the work of those who have gone before should be gratifying to us as presag-ing that like privileges and honors are in store for their succes-sors. With the same noble aspirations and unalterable determi-nation let us be true to our literary societies as were those who have gained so much by supporting them. At present, Phrena is wide awake, doing excellent work and living true to the spirit of her fathers. THE MEECUEY. 13 WHY IS GETTYSBURG NOT WEALTHY ? N. G. PHILLIPY, '09. N" treating this question we will consider the people as a whole, taking as broad a view as possible under the cir-cumstances. According to Webster, wealth means large possessions, opulence, riches. Of course we could not compare Gettysburg with a large city and expect the same amount of wealth, but should more properly compare it with smaller towns of its own size. One of the foremost reasons why Gettysburg is not wealthy is the lack of industries conducted on a large scale. We find no shops or anything of a like nature whereby the owners or entre-preneur can amass a fortune. The ordinary workman cannot collect a fortune as nearly all his wages are used to support his: family. As a rule where there are no large enterprises located we find little wealth. It is true the location of the town geo-graphically may be accountable for the lack of industries, but this does not demand consideration under the present question. The lack of employment for men accounts for the slow in-crease in population. An increase in the value of land and property depends largely upon an increase in population and as the values of each remain nearly the same from year to year, speculation and investments in this line are unprofitable and unremunerative in Gettysburg. The country surrounding the town is not so very fertile and agriculture is not as productive as we find in many other locali-ties. Very few agricultural products are put on the market by the farmers near the town in any great quantity. We do not find minerals profitable for mining in the neighboring localities so very little shipping is carried on. 'Eailroads depend on freight for their profits and when there is little transportation railroad facilities are usually poor. Being located inland the people have not the opportunity to carry on markets or any other pursuit which water affords. The people themselves, have a great influence on any town. If we make a careful study of the people and their pursuits we have partly, at least, the solution of our problem. In our study 14 THE MERCURY. we must take into account their likes and dislikes, their desires,, their ambitions and their doings. The people as a whole are of a retiring nature. There seems: to be little greed for money and little ambition to amass a great, fortune. Each individual is actuated by a desire to live com-, fortably and save enough to keep himself and family during old age. Judging from appearances everybody is contented and happy, a condition which is proof of the statement that the de-sire for riches is lacking. We find the population as a body, industrious, being em-ployed at different occupations. An unusual number are en-gaged in educational work who labor more for knowledge and the pleasure afforded thereby, than for the money received for their work. It is natural in a college town to have cultured people. Peo-ple of culture and refinement have their surroundings fashioned after their ideas and influence the whole community. This class has certainly added much to the community. The battlefield also attracts many well-to-do people who come here to. live a retired life and to enjoy the beautiful surroundings. In Gettysburg, if a man is not engaged in educational work, he is in sympathy with it and usually formulates his opinions accord-ingly. In conclusion, the people are interested in their personal welfare, mentally as well as physically, and do not have the de-. sire for great wealth as their sole ambition. THE JIEUCURY. 15 THE JUNIOR "PROM" SOCIALLY CONSIDERED. CLL consideration of the social significance of the Junior Prom naturally involves a taking into account the general social life of the college community. For it is obvious that the character and tone of this annual function must, to a large extent, be determined by the social life as it is developed throughout the year. And since the Junior Prom is just in its infancy,—in its formative period,—this pa-per shall be both critical and suggestive. The social life of our college seems to be the characteristic so-cial life of colleges in general. It is very different from the so-cial life that existed in earlier years of the college. New condi-tions in the social structure at large, together with the increased number of students, have all contributed to the existent social status in the college community. The present exclusive tenden-cies in modern family life, unknown to our forefathers, cannot fail to produce like tendencies among a body of students; the social product developed in our college is, in short, but an out-growth of the existing trend of home life. Though the number of students in any one college is really small, when compared with the number enrolled in a modern university, yet it has grown so that no longer can the authorities of even the small college boast that theirs is the privilege of easily acting in loco parentis, and of forming with the student body a well regulated family. Instead of one united family, thoroughly democratic in its workings and with a reasonably common purpose and as-piration, the student body has been organized by the fraternity into many little families, each with its distinctive membership making of paramount importance the promotion of its own inter-ests and those of its individual members. The college authori-ties have, in other words, failed to meet new conditions by their failure to provide a sane and invigorating college family atmos-phere for the student to grow in, and it should not be surprising, therefore, that the students have themselves provided their own substitute, inferior though it may be. The fraternity is not lacking in provsions for the diversion of 16 THE MERCURY. its members. Numerous social events are held during the year, and occasionally an inter-fraternity function is arranged. Be-tween the members of this organized portion of the student body, who are thus frequently brought together, there naturally is formed a rather strong attachment. But how about the unorga-nized portion, which is comprised, for any one of several reasons, of the men whom the fraternity has not attracted? The social opportunities of most of these men are not only more limited, they are also more individualistic. That there should be a cer-tain divergence, therefore, between the fraternity and non-fra-ternity element is not to be wondered at. The Junior Prom is a step in the direction of preventing this divergence. Every element in the student body is to be repre-sented as far as possible on a common basis. The possibilities of general good fellowship are on this occasion to be fully pre-sented and fostered. Men who are seldom to be found in com-pany of their fellows in a purely social way are to find in the Junior Prom an opportunity of seeing what such commingling means for a man and for the community. Men to whom this is not a new experience are to find pleasure in assisting the unini-tiated over the stony places. The realization of all this could not, of course, be expected in the two times in which the Junior Prom has been held. Indeed it may require several more years to accomplish the desired re-sults. It seems very apparent, however, that tendencies point in the right direction. Last year's Prom marked an improvement over the first, in that dancing was not the exclusive feature of the occasion. Provision was made, though not of a sufficiently definite and attractive character, for those who do not dance. This is not passing judgment upon dancing as a means of di-version; it does mean to imply, however, that to allow dancing or any other form of diversion to become the exclusive feature of a social event indicates a distortion that cannot fail to prove exceedingly narrowing. It implies, too, that it is altogether un-fair to expect those who do not dance to attend an affair which provides definitely only for those who do dance, and which gives dancing such predominant or exclusive place that real com-mingling is impossible. Dancing has become such a mighty factor in the social life of young people everywhere that it is not THE MERCUttY. 17 surprising that it has gained a considerable foothold in our col-leges, but to permit it to have the ascendency at an event, such as the Junior Prom, which contemplates the presence of a large number who do not dance, shows great inconsiderateness and means the blasting of the real significance of the Prom. The far-reaching influence of the Junior Prom, properly regu-lated, can hardly be appreciated at this early stage in its evolu-tion, but to behold its possibilities along the lines indicated should be sufficient to impel us to assist in its proper develop-ment. A. ± A BIOGRAPHY OF SCHILLER. MISS- MARY BAUSCH, '11. JOHANJST Christoph Frederick Schiller was born at Mar-bach, in Wurtemburg, Germany, Nov. 10, 1759. He was the only son of Johann Casper Schiller, an officer in the Wurtemburg army, who held an inferior position in the Duke of Wurtemburg's household. The elder Schiller is was a man of great strength of character. To him Schiller is indebted for his firm and positive traits. His mother, Elizabeth Dorothea Kodweis, the daughter of an innkeeper at Marbach, was just the opposite of her husband in temperament, of strong yet gentle demeanor, full of simple charm and wisdom. We can see deep traces of this mother's sweetness and gentleness in the life of the gifted poet. Schiller did not find it easy to choose a profession. He first attended school at the village of Loech, where influenced by Par-son Moser, his teacher, he prepared himself for the clerical pro-fession. These plans were thwarted by the Duke of Wurtem-burg. He next entered the public school at Ludwigsburg. At the age of fourteen, he became a student at the military academy near Solitude Park, Ludwigsburg, the Duke wishing to have his services for the state. There he pursued the study of law, which was very repugnant to him. After two years had passed he 18 THE MERC PET. gave this up, and began the study of medicine, and was subse-quently appointed regimental surgeon. During this time, however, he was engaged in. the study of lit- 'erature. He was especially fond of the classics and became very proficient in Greek. His knowledge of Greek philosophy is ap-parent in his writings. His first work of note, "The Eobbers," he completed before he was twenty-two years old. Schiller pro-tested in this work against the restraints which he felt the Duke had unjustly forced upon him. Fearing the Duke whose wrath he had thus kindled, he fled to Mannheim. There he passed through many hardships, one reverse of fortune followed an-other. But still he continued to write. Schiller's first play in verse was "Don Carlos,'"' which was pre-sented at Hamburg in August, 1787. The Duke of Weimar, whose interest had been aroused in the young poet, made him one of the counsellors of his court. Upon his arrival at Weimar, Schiller was introduced to Goethe. This acquaintance subse-quently ripened into a close friendship. Early in December, 1788, Schiller's "History of the Eevolt of the Netherlands" was published. This work brought the best results, financially, which he had yet received. It not only had a rapid sale but it aroused the attention of the intellectual world. Through the influence of Goethe, he was offered a professorship in history at the University of Jena which after some hesitation he accepted. On Feb. 22, 1790, he was married to Charlotte von Lengefeld, a most admirable woman who aided him greatly in his life work. A very busy life opened to Schiller while at Jena. It was not unusual for him to spend fourteen hours daily in lecturing and writing. But the strain of such heavy work was too great for a man so delicately constituted as Schiller. A dangerous pulmonary dis-ease overtook him so that he was forced to give up his position as instructor in the university. Then through a generous gift he was enabled to revisit Wurtemburg, where he remained almost a year. In May 1794, he returned to Jena much improved in health although never again entirely well. The period between 1796 and 1800 was especially rich in lyrical productions, of which "Der Taucher," and "Das Leid von THE MERCURY. 1$ der Glocke " aTe prominent. The latter has been considered the best known of Schiller's poems. It deals with the most dra-matic events in the life of man. His great works, "Wallenstein" and "Maria Stuart" followed in close succession. Next came "Die Jungfrau von Orleans" in 1801, "Die Brant von Messina" in 1803, and "Wilhelm Tell," the last and perhaps greatest of his works, in 1801:. In this last great tragedy, Schil-ler portrays with wonderful power the Swiss resistance to tyr-anny. He causes the leader, Wilhelm Tell to stand elevated as a national hero. In all his writings, Schiller's love of liberty and hatred of despotism is manifest, but in none so much as in Wilhelm Tell. Schiller had now reached the zenith of his glory. His man-ners and appearance had improved. The timidity and conscious-ness of youth was replaced by the dignity and ease of more ma-ture years. He was overwhelmed with public honors and enthu-siastically received everywhere he went. But alas, when prosperity and fame seemed permanently se-cured to him, the dread disease which had undermined his health again overtook him. He endured this last trouble with great fortitude; though he had to pass through many trials yet his spirit seemed as it were to soar above them all. He continued to work until at last, his weakened powers being overcome, he passed away on May 9,, 1805, at the age of forty-five. The news, of his death brought universal grief to Germany. 20 TKE MEKCURY. CULTURE'S DISTRESSING FOE. G. E. WOLFE, '09. UST as men err in making happiness a distinct end, so do they err by putting culture in a similar position. And just as they deceive themselves by trying to pro-cure happiness as they would some commodity, so they deceive themselves by like attempts to gain culture. Life would indeed be a barren thing, if it were not enriched by our capacity for happiness and culture, but it is worse than barren where there is a false conception of these enrichments. That culture should be perverted to such an extent that men would make it a fad, seems almost inconceivable, yet that is what the intellectually curious and the socially idle made it some twenty years ago. What abhorrence must have been aroused in all who possessed true cultural instincts! For a fad is always a sham—a gross perversion—and a sham in the world of art ox-literature begets a peculiar offensiveness and hatred. The short-cut, superficial methods employed in pursuing this culture fad must have been entirely detestable to all serious-minded and sin-cere people. Could it be otherwise, with genuine culture possess-ing the rich qualities of ripeness and maturity in taste, intellect and culture ? How crude and defective the sham in the presence of the real! But this perversion, while more pronounced at certain periods, lias not been confined to one or two decades. Haste and arti-ficiality have always been employed by men, in their eagerness to possess the charming ripeness and greatness of soul which mark the truly cultured man. Recent years, however, have de-veloped a new condition, the recognition of which requires no unusual insight. There has developed a foe to culture which is distressing, not simply because it is aiming at culture by per-verse methods, but because it is entirely at variance with true cul-ture and lias so widely disseminated its influence that one may rightly inquire whether the true cultural instinct will not even-tually be quenched on account of it. "Smartness" is not a modern product by any means, but never has it captivated a people as it has the present generation; never THE MERCURY 21 has it held such predominant sway. Strictly speaking this spirit belongs to the world of mediocrity, but so important has it be-come that it claims recognition as the "real thing" from alL We have our so-called "smart sets," but the spirit of smartness in these days finds fruitful soil among all classes—as well among the wealthy as among the not-rich, as well among the intelligent as among the unlettered. And it is this, we believe, that today constitutes culture's distressing foe: it is this that makes impera-tive the loud calls, "Let Us Go Back"—in the direction of "The Simple Life." Not that there are no more who possess true culture, or who are eager to possess it. There are such indeed, but so effectually has the "sporty" microbe been doing its work in the rising gen-eration, that quiet people have well-nigh been driven to despera-tion, those with undeveloped cultural instincts have been tainted or entirely diverted and others never get a desire for cultural pursuit at all. One does not have to be a pessimist to be conscious of the fact that it is the fashion for everybody to be gay; that we are all called upon to persevere in a gala atmosphere. From the ex-treme solemnity of bearing that characterized our forefathers we have swung clear to the opposite extreme. It is impossible not to come in contact constantly with the cheap jargon that is everywhere afloat; with the lightness, cyni-cism and insinuation of immoral sentiment which marks the con-versation of popular young people. Fashionable clothes and jaunty manners never played as prominent a role as today. Plain, unassuming people, to whom this pertness and super-, ciliousness is extremely repulsive, are wondering when there will \ be a reaction toward the sane and rational. Surely the reaction-must come, and parents and educators have no more important duty before them than to seek to obliterate this spirit of sm^rt-. ness. THE MEECUEY. THE ECONOMIC ASPECTS OF THE LINCOLN ROAD. G. L. KIEFFEK, '09. JJST order to consider this subject properly, we must first inquire into the nature of the proposed "road." There-fore, briefly, "The Lincoln Eoad" is a proposed na-tional memorial to Abraham Lincoln. The "road" is to be a grand boulevard joining Washington, D. C, with Gettysburg, Pa. Its two hundred feet of width are to be occupied by green-sward plots, hedges, and trees, a speedway for automobiles, a driveway for carriages and wagons, two double-tracked electric railways, the one for express trains and the other for local trains. The very nature of the proposed "road" declares that it shall be equally open to both the rich and the poor. This being true it will be the means of bringing to Gettysburg, for at least a day, many of the hundreds of thousands of tourists that annually visit Washington. Hence with all this traffic, the very "road" itself might become an economic asset to the United States gov-ernment. To accommodate these people appropriate hotels would have to be maintained in Gettysburg. The present hotels and restau-rants would have to be renovated and enlarged. New ones also would have to be erected. A higher standard would be the order of the day for all Gettysburg hotels when official Washing-ton would be in the habit of paying them a visit at almost any hour. To meet this increase of business occasioned by the influx of people, Gettysburg herself would have to grow and increase the number of and enlarge all her business places in whatever line they might be. Naturally all property in Gettysburg would increase in value as would also all the property along the "road" from Washington to Gettysburg. To compete with the travelling facilities which would be af-forded by the proposed "road," the facilities of the present rail-roads would have to be bettered and new roads would be built— both electric and steam. All eyes would naturally be turned towards Gettysburg, which THE MERCURY. 23 with its historic surroundings, beautiful scenery, and medicinal springs, would naturally be expected to become the greatest sum-mer resort in the United States. The character and number of tourists would necessitate gov-ernment control of all guides. Thereby would undoubtedly be obliterated the blot of blots found upon the world. With gov-ernment control of all guides the tourists would be guaranteed just and equal treatment. For the guides themselves, better days would result. To Gettysburg's educational institutions would come greater publicity and a better appreciation of these institutions' rare sur-roundings. The result would naturally be manifested by an in-crease in the student bodies and an enlargement of the institu-tions themselves. All this resulting from the proposed "Lincoln Way?" Yes, more. With it connected to Gov. Stuart's proposed highway from Philadelphia to Pittsburg, "The Lincoln Way" naturally would become the backbone of a national highway system extend-ing all over the country. Then would all roads lead to Gettys-burg, which would be, in fact, the shrine of American patriotism, the Mecca for all Americans. THE "INDIAN STEPS." E. C. STOUFFER, '11. HE immense dam of McCalPs Ferry Power Company is nearing completion. As a result the slowly rising waters of the Susquehanna river are gradually cover-ing up one of the oldest and most noted landmarks of south-eastern Pennsylvania. The old "Indian Steps" are artificial shelves, cut no doubt, by means of stone hatchets into the face of a large round-pointed rock, which juts out from the west bank of the Susquehanna river. They were cut by the North American Indians possibly centuries before the discovery of America. These steps were used by the dusky inhabitants as a place on which to stand and dip the shad as they crossed the rapids on their annual journey 24 THE MERCURY. to the spawning grounds in the upper Susquehanna. Since the settlement of the country the white man has for generations used them for the same purpose. So far-famed were these steps that the Indians from the North, South, East and West came here to fish. Only the strong, vigorous and daring could fish from this rock for only such were able to endure the chill damp night winds which frequent the lower Susquehanna. As each contestant ap-peared a chalk mark or number was placed on his hat to desig-nate his turn. When his name was called he took his place, tied himself to a ring in the rock and cast the net. Each one was ■compelled to take his catch and be content. If there were a goodly number of shad, all was well; but if it proved to be a small catch he had to go away heavy hearted and take his place in the waiting line again. Year after year from these rocks hundreds of these daintiest ■of all fishes have been caught, some to grace the humble board of ■a poor riverman, some to please the fastidious taste of a city epicurean. The land around the "Indian Steps" was originally occupied by the Conestoga Indians and was preserved for them by the first proprietors of the state. Even Maryland, which was attempting to push her lines farther and farther north, respected the rights of the natives and made no attempt to appropriate this section. 'The land was held for the Indians until August 26, 1786, when a deed was granted to Joseph Eeed on condition that the "Indian Steps" should be preserved for a fishing place for the poor of the community. This charge has been faithfully kept until now. A few months more and the old landmark will have passed away and forever this curious specimen of Indian art will be lost to Pennsylvania. THE MERCURY. 25 THE INVESTIGATION OF THE FARMER; WHAT IT IS LIKELY TO BE WORTH. MISS HELEN H. BRENNEMAN, '08. EVEEAL months ago when President Roosevelt ap-pointed a committee to investigate the condition of the farmers throughout the country, it provoked quite a little amusement on the part of some people, while on the part of others it aroused sarcasm and anger. Many people regarded the President as a "busy-body" and failed to recognize the real aim in his interest in the farmers' condition. Never before has there been a man at the head of the nation with such broad and liberal views and one who has put forth such strenuous efforts in behalf of all kinds and classes of peo-ple. And it was such a motive that prompted him to take this action. The scope of this committee's work is not to ascertain the technical methods of farming and to inquire into personal matters, but to find out what are the general sanitary, social, educational and economic conditions of country life, to find out what is needed, what improvements can be effected, and in what way the government can help them. The commission was confronted with a task not only wide in its scope but comprising a large territory, and many people were to be dealt with. The President suggested that the farmers be called together in convenient meeting places for discussions, and that the members of the commission try to get in the closest touch possible with them and find out their needs. The commission has sent out circulars to professional men, business men, farmers and many others. These circulars con-tain a list of twelve questions with respect to the public schools in the vicinity and their efficiency; whether the farmers get rea-sonable returns from the sale of their products; whether they have good railroads, highway, telephone and rural postal service-accommodations ; whether there is a sufficient supply of labor in the neighborhood. These questions show what the commission are seeking to find out. It is their desire not only to ascertain the conditions but to get opinions and suggestions as to what needs to be done. Now the question arises, "What is the investigation likely to 26 THE MERCURY. be worth ?" In the first place it is very evident that almost the entire success depends upon the attitude of the people. If they continue to take it as a joke or with a feeling of animosity, cer-tainly the progress of the commisison's work is going to be checked and its ultimate success doubtful. However Dr. Bailey of Cornell University, the chairman of the commission, says that the public interest is increasing as the people come to under-stand the commission and its work. These words are encourag-ing and indicative of a very likely success. If this investigation is going to amount to anything, there must be co-operation of the people, especially of the farmers for whose benefit these efforts are being exerted. In a recent mes-sage to the commission the President said, "It is esssential that the farmers, the men who live on the soil should feel a sense of the ownership in this commisison, should feel that you gentle-men in very truth represent them and are responsive to their de-sires, no less than to their needs." If this committee receives the support of the people, it should effect some good results. There is a larger percentage of per-sons engaged in agricultural pursuits than in any other occupa-tion and it is only just that more attention should be given to their needs. The demands for better highways, better railway and trolley service are being universally agitated, and surely the commis-sion will concentrate, its efforts towards their accomplishment thus increasing the facilities of the farmer for better profits. At the Farmers' Convention held in Madison last October scientific crop raising and the need of teaching agriculture in the schools were among the principal topics approved by that orga-nization. It is just as essential that agriculture be taught in the rural schools as manual training and trades in the city schools. Here again if such a desire could be met by the gov-ernment it would not only benefit the farmers economically but the nation also. It remains to be seen just what this investigation will amount to, but nevertheless we can surmise that the educational advant-ages in some districts will be improved, that there will be bet-ter facilities for the transaction of business and that the social, educational and economic conditions will be bettered. T H E HERCURV Entered at the Postoffice at Gettysburg as second-class Matter. VOL. XVI GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1908 No. 7 Editor-in-Chief Assistant Editor P. F. BLOOMHARDT, '09 CHARLES F. V. HESSE, '09 Exchange Editor Associate Editors H. REY WOLF, '09 SAMUEL FAUSOLD, '10 Business Manager EDWARD N. FRYE, '10 CHABLES L. KOPP, '09 Advisory Board Ass't Bus. Managers PROF. C. F. SANDERS, A. M. G. U. KNIPPLE, '10 PROF. P. M. BIKLE, PH.D. PAUL S. MILLER, '10 PROF. C. J. GRIMM, PH. D. Published each month, from October to June inclusive, by the joint literary societies of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. Subscription price, one dollar a year in advance ; single copies 15 cents. Notice to discontinue sending THE MERCURY to any address must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors and Alumni are cordially invited to contri-bute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. such is often the case. EDITORIALS. THE question has often been asked how a small college, with a limited number of students and a corresponding limitation of tal-ent can successfully conduct nearly as many student enter-prises as the larger univeristies— and conduct them, too, in such a way that they frequently rival similar organizations in their larger sister institutions. But Our own college may be taken as suffici- "28 THE MERCURY. ent proof. Our five varieties of athletic teams, our three publi-cations, two literary societies, debating and oratorical teams, musical clubs, and dramatic society, etc., have often been re-spected rivals to similar teams of other and larger schools. But the mere fact of the numbers of these enterprises does not neces-sarily have to affect the quality of the results accomplished. We are inclined to think that men with just as great ability and as large capacity for work are to be found in the smaller college as in the larger ones,—not as many, to be sure, but the ratio is about the same. Furthermore, the smaller college offers oppor-tunities to every one of such calibre, while in the larger schools, •only a comparatively few can take part. LAST year Gettysburg was disappointed in not being enter-tained by her dramatic society, the Mask and Wig. Presumably this was due to the lack of time for rehearsals. Nevertheless the loss was felt. This year it has been decided that no musical club trip will be taken. It has been suggested that the time, talent, and energ}', usually devoted to this organization be turned into another channel; that is, into the perfecting of a good play or minstrel show which might be allowed to take a trip, similar to the Triangle Club of Princeton. IN a few days the first term of the present collegiate year will be closed. After an arduous week's work in examinations, the Christmas vacation will be the more appreciated and enjoyed. Its rest and pleasure has been anticipated by all, but especially has it been longed for by the Freshmen. Christmas has been written about so often, and from so many different viewpoints, that little that is new is left to say. To the college student it is a joyous season to be looked forward to, but in its actual enjoy-ment, he no longer thinks of college and its surroundings for it is a vacation season at home. So, with its last issue for 1908, the MERCURY wishes all its readers a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. THE MERCURY-. 29 BOOK REVIEWS. INDER the Crust, by Thomas Nelson Page, Phrena. This volume is composed of original stories. Each story has a philosophical side. They were evidently written to stimulate thought and the author has succeeded admirably. One of the stories, "A Brother of Diagones" is especially commenda-ble. In this story, great wealth is pointed out as a stumbling block rather than an aid to happiness. The simple life, too, is contrasted to the hustle and bustle of the metropolis. Other stories of the volume effectively contrast altruism and egoism. The Biography of Thomas Jefferson, by John T. Morse, Phrena. This biography is very impartially written. The au-thor gives us the facts indulging in neither unmerited praise nor criticism. He seems to have an insight into the man's very nature and thus vividly portrays the actions of the statesman both at home and in the blaze of public life. The biography not only enumerates the achievements of Mr. Jefferson with their causes and effects but also those of contemporary statesmen. The biographer shows Mr. Jefferson as a visionary, shrewd politician and a far-sighted statesman. The book is very readable and valuable. Tides of Bamegat, by P. Hopkinson Smith, [Philo 11:6.] This is a book which one can scarcely afford not to read. It presents a very impressive picture of life. It is an account of how one member of a noble and respectable family brought shame and disgrace to the family name There is seen the secret sufferings of the sister through false modesty. Her life would have been made happy indeed, if she had only opened her heart to her lover. It shows how one sister may give advantages and culture to another and instead of receiving gratitude, have her head bowed in shame while the other, seemingly soulless, is not af-fected. There is also brought out the yearning and love of a father for his son whom he has driven from home in a fit of anger for the evil he has done when he refuses to do right. The story is somewhat overdrawn, but otherwise one can find no fault. It is nevertheless very instructive. Although somewhat tedious at times it is generally interesting. The language is clear and wholesome. The Brass Bowl, by Louis Joseph Vance, [Philo, 11:8.] The so THE MEECURY. title of the book is somewhat fanciful as the bowl has practically the least connection with the story. Anyone wishing to read a book for entertainment and recreation will find this romance suited to his purpose as it is very interesting, simple and full of action. The thread of the story seldom breaks and the climax is near the end. The reader will be pleased with the happy ter-mination. No characters are used except those which are neces-sary to the plot. The principal parts are played by persons of high social rank, and they seem to be somewhat magnified. There is no place in the book that is tedious. The narration is clear, animated and well balanced. The language is simple and vigorous. The author has handled 'the plot very well. He shows broadmindedness, independence, the possession of a vivid imagination and a pleasant sense of humor. He has an ac-quaintance with high social life. The reader will be very much pleased with "Mad Maitland's" spirit as he makes his wild flights and also with Miss Sylvia Graeme who comes into Mait-land's life in a very peculiar way. EXCHANGES. JE are glad to have with us again most of our old ex-changes. There are a few that have not arrived yet. We trust that all will soon respond. It seems necessary again to call attention to the con-tent of the MERCURY. The MERCURY, we are trying to make a literary journal, and not a paper combining literary, athletic and the other departments of college activities. The "Gettysbur-gian," our weekly publication, contains the news of the various departments of college life. Among the good things in the "College Student" we would call attention to "Lowell's 'Biglow Papers'" and "Eelation of Diction to Character." The former is a critical essay which brings to notice many interesting facts concerning this import-ant contribution to American literature. The latter shows how the ideals and characteristics of the individual are reflected in hie writings. THE MERCURY. 31 We are glad to welcome "The Thielensian" to our exchanges. In the article entitled "Greek and Eoman Influences" the writer reminds us of some of the beauties of Athens and Borne. The beginning of philosophy was in Greece. Then from the Eomans we can learn the lesson of patriotism. Their motto was, "Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori." The Eomans understood mili-tary matters, and we can also learn much from their sculpture and architecture. "Luther in the Eeformation" is also worthy of perusal. The character sketches of Taft and Bryan in the "Otterbein Aegis" are brief but very interesting. We all admire the teachings and doctrines of Socrates, the great Greek philosopher. He busied himself by trying to teach men the truth, and even though he greatly emphasized truth, he was especially eager that men should become happy and useful citizens. To be a good citizen he regarded the "summum bonum" of the individual's life. Indeed in our present age of political corruption, we can not over-emphasize high ideals of citizenship. "Making an American Citizen" in the'Thiloma-thean Monthly" presents this subject in a forceful manner. The writer gives some qualifications of the ideal American citizen. First, he must exercise the right of franchise. It is not only his right, but his duty, to vote. Secondly, he must vote intelligently and not allow himself to be bribed by a paltry farthing. Again, he must be a doer, and not depend upon party leaders. And lastly he must have strong moral convictions. As to the prob-lem of attaining this ideal, the author says, "If I were to offer a solution of this vital problem, it would be: the continual, untir-ing moral and civic training in home and school." All scholars have more or less knowledge of epic poetry. They all know something of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey, Virgil's Aeneid and Milton's Paradise Lost, but often the epics of less renown are neglected. "The Sketch Book" contains an article entitled "Sita," which tells us of India's epics. The Eamayana and the Mahabharata are India's chief epics. "Sita" is the im-portant character in the Eamayana. She is to the Eamayana what Helen of Troy is to Homer's Ilaid. The article gives a brief summary of the epic and closes with a few ethical com-ments on the character of "Sita." 32 THE MEKCUKT. We wish to comment on two articles in the "Albright Bulle-tin." "The Character of Satan in 'Paradise Lost,'" and "Work; Man's Opportunity." The writer regards Satan as the princi-pal character of the epic, and speaks of him from that stand-point. In the latter essay, we have a very practical exposition on work and its blessings to the individual. Lovers of German literature will find pleasure in reading "Two Representatives of German Epic and Lyric Poetry" in the "Lesbian Herald." Of our High School exchanges, the "Eed and Black" (Read-ing High School) deserves special mention. The departments are well represented and as a whole the paper makes a pleasing appearance. We gratefully acknowledge the usual exchanges. "PXYK iKT2« r>rv. M3VSUT13ER5. There's no pen that gives such all-round satisfaction i Conklin's Self-Filling Fountain Pen. It's the best pen for College Men. When an ordinary fountain pen runs dry in the middle of a word, it means you've got to stop right there, hunt up a rubber squirt gun, fill your pen to overflowing, clean both pen and dropper, wash your hands, and then endeavor as best you can to collect your lost Crescent f'f train of thought. It's different with Filler Jr-l 9 FILLING "THE PEN WITH THE CRESCENT-FILLER" To fill, iust dip it in any ink, press the Crescent-Filler, and the Conklin is filled and ready to write instantly. You can't over-fill it. Hence no inky fingers, no loss of time, no ruffled temper. The feed of the Conklin is No waiting for ink to come—no jerking—no slips, blots. ng dealers handle the Conklin. IE yours does not, order direct. Look tor the Crescent-Filler and refuse substitutes. Prices, $3.00 and up. Send at once (or handsome new catalog. T3E OOHZLIH PEH CO., 31 Itiahattsn Bnildiag, Toledo, Ohio. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FUfOTTUfjE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames; Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. - Telephone No. 97. 3=3L ZB_ 23eri-d.ex, 37 Baltimore Si., *-tttt/xhurg;, FA EDGAR C. TAWNEY BAKER West Middle Street. J. B. WINEMAN, DEALER IN CHOICE FAMILY GROCERIES, PROVISIONS AND FRUITS, BOARDING CLUBS A SPECIALTY. SUNDAY SCHOOL LESSON HELPS AND SUPPLIES, P. ANSTADT & SONS, Publishers, Book and Job Printing of all Kinds ttrtte for Prices. YORK, PA. ■> PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EMIL ZOTHE ^MEMS ENGRAVER, DESIGNER, AND MANUFACTURING JEWELER 722 Chestnut St., Phila. SPECIALTIES : MASONIC MARKS, SOCIETY BADGES, COLLEGE BUTTONS, PINS, SCARP PINS, STICK PINS AND ATHLETIC PRIZES. All Goods ordered through G. F. Kieffer, CHARLES S. MUMPER, MtKALER MJV TTTTTS "KFTTTTT? 15! PICTURE FRAMES OF ALL SORTS * W *■*" * * *» *fc*Hf REpA|R WORK DONE PROMPTLY I WILL ALSO BUY OR EXCHANGE ANY SECOND-HAND FURNITURE NO. 4 CHAMBERSBURG STREET, GETTYSBURG, PA D. J. SWARTZ DEALER IN COUNTRY PRODUCE, GROCERIES, CIGARS AND TOBACCO. GETTYSBURG. SHOES KEPA1UHI> —BY— 115 Baltimore St., near Court House. GOOD WORK GUARANTEED. -IS-Your Photographer ? If not, why not? 41 BALTIMORE ST., GETTYSBURG, PA. 8EFT0N I FLEMMING'S LIVERY, Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, -Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arm »» Filbert St. A convenient and homelike place to stay while in the city shopping. An excellent restaurant where good service combines with low prices. ROOMS §1.00 PER DAY AND UP. The only moderate priced hotel of reputation and eonsequenee in > 3Pla.ila.cLe2pla.ISL • » J 1 i SQ *. • • » ,atindry . . OF YORK . . Offers tfte COLLEGE STUDENTS first-dass work; at Special Low Prices. E. C. STOUFEER, Local Agt. C. D. SMITH, Prop. MEANS TASTY WOEK SAEEFULLY DONE. MfcNU CARDS. LETTER HEADS, WINDOW POSTERS ENVELOPES, DANCE CARDS TICKETS, Programs of all kinds. Everything the College Man wants in Paper and Ink. Specially designed work. Latest Effects in Paper, clone in Colors along lines of College Men's Associations. Catalog and Book work. The Gettysburg Compiler will keep old and new students in touch with town and college life. HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The Intercollegiate Bureau of Academic Costume. Cotrell & Leonard, ALBANY, N. Y. ™2li2^! CAPS AND GOWNS To Utttyi-buri? College Lafayette. Lehigh. Dickinson. State College, Univ of Penn sylviinin, Hnrviird, Yale. Princeton. Wellesley, Bryn Mnwrnnd the others. Class Contracts a Specialty. Correct Hoods i. Degrees. Mr. College Man We are already lining up our clients for nextSpring. With our National Organization of 12 offices we will need over 2000 college men for technical, office, sales aud teaching positions throughout the United States. We can also use at any time college men who are in the market for a position. Let us explain to you NOW. Write for the "College Man's Opportunity." It tells how Hapgoods, a great organization built up by college men has placed many thousand youngmen, has raised the standard of college meu as a business factor throughout the world. State age, education, location desired. THE JV\iTIOJVJIZ, OBGjrjVTZJlTjrOJV OF BIlJlIJV BHOHKBS. Commonwealth Trust Building, Philadelphia, Pa. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Headquarters for BANQUETS. Electric Lights, Steam Heat, All Conveniences. Free Bus to and from station. Convenient for Commencement Visitors. RATES $2.00 PER DAY. -livery CLi'ta.c'ked. Jot]i] P. JV^tH Proprietor. BECKER & CO., DEALERS IN All kinds of Fresh and Smoked Meats Chambersburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. ALLEN K. WALTON, Pres. and Treas. ROBT. J. WALTON, Supt. flummelstown Brown Stone Company, QUARRYMEN and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING and TILE. Wa/l/fcoTwille, ]£)a.-u,pT-vlr\, ^o. Pa. CONTRACTORS FOR ALL KINDS OF CUT STONE WORK. Telegrapn and Express Address, Brownstone, Pa. Parties visit-ing quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P. & R-R. R. For Artistic Photographs Go To T{PTON The Leader in PHOTO FASHIONS Frames and Passapartouts Made to Order. PATRONISE OUR ADY$RTI$$RS Come and Have a Good Shave or Hair Cut -AT-Harry B. Sefton's BARBER SHOP. 35 Baltimore St. Barber's Supplies a Specialty. Also choice line of Cigars. SHOES REPAIRED —BY— Charles Hartdagen, Middle St., Opp. Court House, GUARANTEE ALL WORK. GETTYSBURG DEPARTMENT STORE, Successors to the L. M. Alleman Hardware Co., Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of HARDWARE, OILS, PAINTS AND QUEENSWARE, GETTYSBURG, PA. Tb.p only Jobbing House in Adams County. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. s * * » ** *»« * ft * «« « «»* ** « « * »* « * * « **«* ***« aa »« « ***** a »*« »* * *** Seligrqciq Are Gettysburg's Most Reliable TAILORS «* And show their appreciation of your patronage by giving- you full value for your money, and closest attention to the wants of every customer. ■ T' ■,f T &.WirX'z?&/&teM$&^.'^*fc?ttvte*&^ Students' Headquarters —FOR— HATS, SHOES, AVD GENT'S FURNISHING. Sole Agent for WALK-OVER SHOE EGBERT'S STORE. Prices Always Right T|e Lutheran PubliGOlioii Society No 1424 Arch Street, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Colleges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and develop one of the church in-stitutions with pecuniary ad-vantage to yourself. Address HENRY 8. BONER, Supt